I can't lose you

[Clarke Griffin]

That was just typically Bellamy. He just survived almost dying from a poison and the biggest problem he had was wanting to know if they already found who had wanted him dead. The blonde girl reached for his hand, hoping she could continue to comfort him through this, but was it just comfort for him? She felt comforted by it as well, Clarke found, because his hand was no longer completely ice- cold. Some warmth was returning to it, a clear sign of him getting better, slowly but surely. Clarke shook her head.

“Not yet. Kane is investigating it, though. I kind of lost my mind with them a bit. But, as far as I heard, we were right: It wasn’t Monty or Miller.” Those two were completely shocked and clearly feeling guilty despite not having done it. They cooperated with Kane to find out who had done it. Whoever it was would have to pay one way or another. “They were told to bring it to you to help you recover, both by separate people. They told them it was just for you due to what happened with you, to help you get back to strength. Kane will find the culprit.” Monty and Miller would want to see Bellamy, but for now she wanted to be alone with him as a question burned in her. 

“Bellamy… What do you remember from before you fell asleep?”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Her attempt at comfort was indeed successful as he wrapped his fingers around her hand in return to the gesture. She answered his question, saying that they had not found the person responsible, but that it was definitely not Monty and Miller. Bellamy trusted both of them, though he still felt unsettled at the thought that someone among them would have stooped to this level. He believed in Kane's diligence though and knew that with the limited people here, they would find the person. Clarke stated that she lost her mind, and his gaze fell to their joined hands.

"You didn't punch any walls did you?" He asked teasingly as he playful inspected her knuckles to be sure. He looked back at her, the disorientation seemingly gone for good. "If they were waiting for a good time to strike, then they nailed it." Because Bellamy had been weak and vulnerable. Two things he absolutely hated being. And now, thanks to whoever did this, everyone else knew it too. It wasn't enough that he had collaped upon their return to Camp Jaha. But then he had fallen into a coma for everyone to see. When he got his hands on this person . . .

Clarke then asked him what he remembered from before he fell asleep. Bellamy tried to search his mind for the answer. He tried to think back to what they had been talking about. Something about cats . . . and her going through great lengths to protect him. She had said that she needed him . . . or had she. And then he had returned with . . . wait. Bellamy's face remained unchanged, but his mind was racing. He couldn't recall whether he had actually said the words or not.

 He had felt them for quite some time, but had he been dazed enough to reveal them? If he had, then what if he ruined everything? If he hadn't, then what if he stated that he did and in turn . . . ruined everything. If he actually did say them, it wasn't with an expected mutual response. He couldn't assume that she loved him back. Damn it, why couldn't he remember?

"Us talking," he answered simply, his voice betraying his heart and mind for his words came out calm and collected, where as he was thinking and feeling so many other things at the moment. "Why?" Did she know how he felt about her? He hadn't been planning to say the words anytime soon. She was already going through so much and he was certain the last thing she needed was him professing his love for her . . . when she may, and most likely did not feel the same way.

[Clarke Griffin]

“Not walls. I might have almost punched Miller.” But she didn’t. Or was it Monty? Or both. He’d feel bad if she told him exactly how crazy she had gone out there, but she wasn’t exactly thinking straight. Bellamy had been the only thing holding her to the ground, but without him the dreams, the fears had been rapidly catching up with her. Even worse all concentrated in the fear for him, rendering her so terribly helpless. She felt like she couldn’t move in fear, but of course logically she had been able to move, her soul, that was another story entirely. Clarke was aware that with every lost life, she lost part of herself as well. He had held her together, hat made sure she wouldn’t shatter on the spot. Her initial reaction to protect herself had been abandoned for him. 

“They did nail it. The dose they gave you would have just made you sleepy, unable to move, cough up blood once in a while had you been fully rested and healthy. But like that – it almost killed you.” She had spent so much time watching his vital, seeing them get worse and worse and praying for Lincoln and Octavia to hurry the fuck up. Since she had come Clarke felt lighter, but she still felt unsettled, slightly unhinged as well.

This was the reason why she didn’t exactly know what she hoped for. Had she wanted him to remember him professing his love for her or not? She felt disappointment and relief at the same time – loving her sure felt like a curse these days. Maybe it was better if he didn’t remember it. Maybe she should keep it that way. Dead followed her like a shadow. 

“Just, well, you were in a coma, Bellamy. I just wanted to know if there was a gap in your memory. Just wanted to check if you’re okay."

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The thought of her punching Miller brought a slight smile to his lips. Not that he wished any harm to befall his friend. But it was also never a good idea to anger Clarke. "I wonder if that was planned," he thought out aloud. "Whether they anticpated it reacting that way, or just thought it would do what you said under normal circumstances." There was a difference. One was an attempt to weaken him, the other was an attempt to kill him. The person who had done this obviously had some knowledge of the poison . . . but was it extensive to know that with Bellamy's already weak state, it would have far worse results than it normally would have? He had collapsed in front of the entire camp when they returned; his state was no secret.

Clarke then answered his question, saying that she wanted to know if there was a gap in his memory. So he hadn't said anything. Or maybe he had and she wasn't telling him, which would completely understandable. He didn't know which he preferred. He figured it would certainly make things less complicated if she did know for them to go on pretending that he hadn't said anything. Though he would always wonder . . . damn it.

Why couldn't he just remember. "Right," he said, swallowing back the question that he wanted to ask. "I'm ok though," he confirmed. "I'm already feeling much better," he added on, trying to change the subject from what he may have said. If they dwelled on it for too long, curiosity would get the better of him and it may just slip out. "Thank you, for everything, Clarke." He wanted her to know just how grateful he was. She saved his life, and he wasn't going to dismiss that or take it for granted.

[Clarke Griffin]

She wondered it, too. If it had been Monty Clarke would have said it was his plan. Monty was the kind of guy to have enough knowledge of plants to anticipate this reaction. Others? She wasn’t sure. There could be some people to know enough to actually go for his life. Others might have just misjudged the moment completely. It didn’t matter. They would get a punch in the face either way. “I wonder about that, too. We’ll find out.” Eventually they would know. And she would take matters into her hands. Whoever tried to take him, knowingly or not, would pay. 

“No need, Bellamy. I stayed for you and I will continue to do so.” Wait, she should not say that. She should not imply anything that might betray what Lexa so easily saw. It didn’t matter between them. Maybe it mattered to her, but it was not the most important thing right now. The most important thing was him. Clarke ran her hand through his hair, her face soft. At least he was okay. He was going to be fine. “You know, you saying you’re feeling much better won’t get you out of here faster or out of bed.” He needed to rest now, even more so than before. Clarke knew, logically that her body was in a lot of need of rest as well. She would, once she knew he was really getting better. And then the nightmares would come, but that was inevitable. “You need to give your lungs time to heal and your body in general. Octavia needs you. This camp needs you. Wait.” Clarke had noticed the mask. It was stupid to still have him wear the mask when he was over the worst and his lung only needed a bit of help now. As carefully and gently as possible, Clarke took the mask off. She detached it and replaced it with a nasal cannula, fixing that on Bellamy as well. “Does that work? That okay?” Without even realizing it her hand had gone back to run through his hair over and over again.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He knew they would. They would indeed figure it out. He tried to set it aside for right now, hoping that whoever did this would not be a threat to anyone else . . . mainly Clarke. She then told him that she didn't have to thank him; that she stayed for him and would continue to. "That reason alone makes it very necessary to thank you." She had been set on leaving, he'd seen it in her eyes. Yet she had stayed for him when he needed her. Where his words failed in telling her, his body practically screamed his need for her. And she had stayed. He wouldn't have survived this -- physcially, mentally and emotionally -- if it weren't for her. The feeling of her hand running through his hair was so tender, and he couldn't help but feel relaxed by it.

Perhaps it was selfish to allow himself this sort of peace but he couldn't resist. Her unwavering, soothing touch always was exactly what he needed. It seemed to satisfy a craving that he didn't even know he had. "I couldn't have gotten through this without you," he told her with strong sincerity. She may think there was no need to thank her, but there was every need in the world. She proceeded to tell him that him stating his improved health would not get him out of the bed. "The latest I'm staying in here is tomorrow morning." No later than that. "Besides, something tells me you've barley rested yourself. Maybe I need to make sure that you do," he said teasingly, though with some truth as well. Knowing her, she would have sacrificed any sleep and rest to take care of him, to make sure he was ok. She went on to explan that his lungs needed time to rest but it was her latter words that caused him to pause.

"Octavia needs you." "I love Octavia, but she'll be fine." "I need you." "And I love you, but you'll be fine." His mind went over these words, prompted in his memory by what she had told him. That's what he said. Wasn't it? There was a strong familiarity with the words and it was seeming less like a dream and more like a slip of the tongue. As his mind tried to process this, she fortunately took off the confounded mask and replaced it with a far more convenient device that allowed him just what he needed. "Much better," he answered truthfully, but his mind was somewhere else. He couldn't do this. He needed to know for sure if he had said something. He couldn't leave this to wondering if he'd admitted he loved her. He couldn't be that much of a coward.

He closed his eyes for a moment, basking in the sensation of her soft touch before he opened his eyes once more. He looked at her softly, intently, forcing the question out. "Clarke, did I say something to you before I fell into a coma?" His question may seem simple, but it entailed quite a bit. His tone made it clear to what sort of 'something' he was referring to. And he didn't need her to repeat it. He just needed a simple yes or no. His gaze was fixated on her, watching her very carefully for her reaction knowing that if he had said what he think he may have, then there surely would be something behind her expression. If not, then it would just be casual and perhaps a bit of confusion as to what deep meaning he held to his words. But he had to know. He needed to know. He couldn't just tiptoe around this. He had to own up to what he may have said.

[Clarke Griffin]

“I have rested, I’ll have you know.” Clarke managed a grin at that. “Lincoln and Octavia made me.” It wasn’t too much, he was right, but had they not made her rest, she would have sat with him, awake, the entire time. This way she actually got a bit of sleep, even if it was laced with terrible nightmares of the things she had done. She had no intention of sharing that detail with him. But once he would no longer need oxygen for his lungs, she would be more than happy to take him back to their tent and care for him there. The others could then come and see him as well. They would need it as well, especially Miller and Monty who were probably shook with guilt. They needed to see Bellamy. And she needed to stay close. She had been way too worried about him, had been before, too.

As soon as he asked about what he said before he fell into the coma, she was glad she was running her hand through his hair. It made it easier to focus, it was soothing her and maybe the task would allow her to reply without giving away any emotion. Lexa could read them easily despite how guarded she was around her. Could be? Maybe not.. She didn’t know if her face betrayed her hesitation or the flicker of emotion in her eyes as she thought of the possibility.
“Of course you did. We were speaking. You were pretty out of it.” That was it, wasn’t it? He was out of it. No point in declaring it anything its not. He couldn’t feel for her. “Said you loved me.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He believed her quite easily when she told him that Octavia and Lincoln made her rest. But he still imagined it wasn't a great deal. He knew her well enough to confidently reach that conclusion. "I doubt it was much," he vocalized his thoughts. After all she had been through at Mount Weather . . . well, hopefully now that he was fine, she would be able to get the necessary rest. She then answered his question, saying that he was speaking and was out of it. That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for, though her next words set aside any doubt.

He had said them. It wasn't just a figment of his imagination, or words he had harbored for so long never to be voiced. He stated them. Yet she told him so casually. He wondered if she thought it to be insincere, that he had just blurted them out without meaning them. Bellamy was very aware that he had two options right now. He could tell her that he had just been babbling and it meant nothing -- which would be an utter lie.

Or, he could tell her the truth. He was trying to think of what would be better for her. He didn't want to ruin the relationship they had but admitting his unrequited love for her. But at the same time, he wasn't sure he could lie to her. Not after all they had gone through together. He swallowed, a strange feeling in the pitt of his stomach as he thought about how best to proceed.

"I shouldn't have said that." He couldn't exactly apologize for the words because he had meant them. The timing was just off. Way, way off. He wasn't sure he would have ever told her how he truly felt about her, but now that it was out there . . . he couldn't blatantly pretend like he didn't mean his words. "This is the last thing you, or we need, Clarke. So can we just . . . put it aside." Hell, forget it even happened. God he hoped he didn't screw up what they had by revealing this. He had never been in love with anyone before, and he didn't want to destroy their bond by making her feel . . . well, whatever she had most certainly felt when he professed his love for her.

[Clarke Griffin]

He was right. It wasn’t much sleep, but more than he expected, probably. He was probably expecting her to have gotten 0 sleep. He would have been right if it hadn’t been for his sister and Lincoln. They were the only people she could possibly trust with him. Even if Octavia hated her, they both knew the other would go to certain lengths for Bellamy. Did she know why? Probably not. And Clarke would not tell her. Their relationship was not like that anymore. Her words still rang in her ears. All the words still did, but hers were just true. Everyone was counting on her, but she was just not good enough, just no worth counting on. Self doubt crept up on her. She felt like Octavia was right. She had tried hard, but it didn’t seem to be hard enough. It was never hard enough, not good enough. 

Bellamys words about what he said didn’t help the pain she felt over knowing she wasn’t good enough. He shouldn’t have said that. He could just put it aside like it was nothing. Maybe it was nothing to him, not of consequence, just another word. Love, but not enough maybe, not in that way probably, not in the way she felt it for him, where the pure thought of him dying made her feel like she could die. Clarke pulled her hands back, running them over her arms as if to warm them. She nodded. “Yeah. Okay. Sure.” Clarke actually began to feel cold, but she knew it was not because of the surrounding air, it was from within her. He didn’t feel the same, it hurt. It made her feel so cold and empty inside. For a moment she considered leaving, but she couldn’t. It would just make him realize that it hurt her. She pulled the blanket up around her on the chair.

“I don’t actually know what time it is. Or what day.” Why did this hurt? She shouldn't feel rejected, but in a way, he had rejected her. Friends, that was all they would be then. "I guess I could see if Miller and Monty are up, if you want to see them."

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She had said ok, but he knew it was far from that. He could tell with the way she withdrew her hand from him, and her body language which had also changed. It was more distance because . . . of what he said. He knew that much, and he hated himself for it. "Shit," he breathed out, wishing he had been in more control of his words . . . somehow. "I really screwed this up, didn't I?" He asked rhetorically, not needing an answer because he already knew it. He had messed this up. He had admitted to loving her and now was trying to pretend like it shouldn't change anything between them. Would things be the same? Could she still be friends with him, not thinking that he had any expectatons that their relationship surpass friendship?

He loved her. Nothing would change that. But he couldn't expect the same from her, nor could he pressure her for it . . . and he feared that this was exactly what he had inadvertantly done. She suggested seeing Miller and Monty, and he supposed that was a good idea. He wanted to fix this though. Yet, how could he? Would she look at him the same way? "Yeah. That would be good I guess." Damn it. Damn him. He had said the words in his unguarded state; words that he never meant to utter. She had been through hell, and here he was, making things more difficult for her. "You should rest properly Clarke." He wanted her here more than anyone else . . . but he messed this up. And he needed to think of how he could fix it. If there was a way to fix it. Because the one thing he couldn't do was lie and tell her he didn't mean what he had said.

[Clarke Griffin]

“It’ll be fine.” She said again, but she didn’t know if it could be fine. How could it? Neither of them could go back and change anything. This weight would forever be upon them. Nobody would carry it with them. They were on their own with that, but of course she wasn’t enough. It was all she could say. They could go back to the friendship they had, right? To the respect they shared. This didn’t mean they would have to lose it. She could rise above the fact that he didn’t want her, eventually. For now it just hurt – a lot. It was just all so much right now. Clarke just didn’t know what to do, where to start to put the pieces back together, that felt like they have now fully fallen apart, now that it felt like he’d no longer hold her together – he didn’t want her and why would he? She got up.

“I’m getting them, then. I’ll… see you.” It was good to get out of there. Once outside she could let go of the tension. Even her face could relax, letting the sadness and pain show that she held back for him. It didn’t matter to the others anyway, so she’d be fine. As she suspected the looks given to her were all the same, at least they felt the same. Hanging her head slightly she went to find Miller and Monty, who immediately pulled her into a hug between the two of them. Their whispered words touched her. For the first time since Mount Weather she felt like someone else apart from Bellamy might actually care about her.

Once the two were on their way to Bellamy – after having agreed to stay with him for the night, Clarke returned to their tent. For a moment she considered just moving herself out of it. For another she considered leaving, leaving everything behind, for good this time. But eventually she just lay down. She felt defeated and small and insignificant and so she lay on his bed and cried, wondering when it all went so wrong. What she had done and what she could do to undo it all. This night Clarke cried herself to sleep.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke said that it would be fine, and he wished he could so easily believe that. It wasn't that he considered her to be lying, but perhaps it was just a hopeful statement . . . both of them wanting it to be fine. But there was so much healing they had to do. She had stayed for him, and this was how he treated her? He'd given her more to deal with when she already had a hell of a lot to endure. He was supposed to help her through it, be there for her . . . and instead, he had collapsed, gotten poisoned, and now admitted his feelings to her. This was not helping her. Not at all. Bellamy was relieved for the company that could distract his mind from all the thoughts flooding in it. He gave a small smile to Monty and Miller as the three of them conversed for some time.

It was good to see them, good to speak to them. Bellamy had wanted to be there to support Monty through the difficult task of making it possible for he and Clarke to do what they did. And Miller, well, Nathan was one of Bellamy's closest friends. Eventually, their conversation was brought to a halt as Kane came in to check on him. They both departed, and the older Blake sibling spoke with Kane for a bit.

He updated him on the situation, still not finding the person responsible but assured him that they would. Eventually, he too left and Abby briefly came in to check on things. Before Octavia returned. Each time someone entered, Bellamy hoped it was Clarke, even as the hours of the night passed. He knew it was selfish of him to want her to come, but he couldn't help it. Sleep soon became impossible to avoid and Octavia remained seated while Bellamy slipped into a light slumber, heavily feeling the absense of Clarke's presence, though found comfort in Octavia's. Just in a very differet way.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep before he opened his eyes. It was early, he could tell that by the light outside as well as the quiet surroundings. Bellamy intended to stay true to his words, that the latest he would stay here was the next morning . . . which it technically was. He pulled out any wires, needles, whatever he was attached to and slowly turned his body so that his feet touched the ground.

He felt a bit groggy, still not entirely energized, but he rested enough. He quietly reached for his shirt, putting it on and exited the room. His eyes squinted at the light, though managed to quickly adjust. The first place he went to, was where he hoped he'd find Clarke, so with his mind set, made his way to the tent -- hoping she had not moved out of it. Relief washed over him when he stepped inside and saw her there. Maybe they could fix this after all. Maybe he hadn't ruined beyond repair what they had. God he hoped not. He wouldn't be able to get through this without her. He needed her. He loved her.

[Clarke Griffin]

She didn’t sleep long. Her dreams were haunted by countless people, who she knew lost their lives at her hands, most of them burnt or mutilated in another form. After that she just couldn’t go back to sleep anymore. The thoughts in her head were too loud, screaming at her that she was not good enough, that this was all she did. She hurt people, she was meant to protect them, to lead them, not to hurt them. Bellamy was the protector, not her. She was… nothing anymore. She had failed every single thing she once used to bring to the leadership team they once were. Bellamy was the best for their people, alone. She needed to step back. 

But then there was the thing with him. While she lay there, breathing in his scent, she knew she had to make sense of it all. Clarke knew she had acted out of being hurt. Of course she did. She had done so much to keep him safe, then he brushed the potential feelings between them off like they were nothing. And that was exactly what they were. At least that was exactly what they should be: Nothing. She had feelings for him, enough to want the best for him without caring for herself. That meant they weren’t allowed to exist to begin with. She had to push them down, squash them and make sure they could never resurface, which was in itself an impossible task. Just as she lay there, contemplating how to go on – pretend it never happened – someone came in. 

Clarke turned to see who it was. It was Bellamy. This early? Clarke was pretty sure he had not been released yet. Who the hell let him out? “Who released you?” She asked him, but since she knew how stubborn the man could be, she moved over to her bed, giving him back the room in his. And hell she’d not explain this.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy had not failed to notice which bed she was sleeping in, but nor did he feel the need to draw attention to it. He didn't know what it meant. Whether it showed that they would be ok, or that she was . . . he just didn't know. She asked who had released him and his answer was a simple enough one. "Myself." Like hell if he was going to spend another day lying in bed like that. There were things that needed to be done. Besides, he'd gotten the antidote. Thanks to that and the fact that Clarke had taken care of him, he was going to be fine. "I told you the latest I was staying there was tomorrow morning, which is now." Damn why did he had to have made things so awkward.

Why couldn't they just go back to before he had revealed what was in his heart. "Did you get some sleep?" He asked casually, though the question was far deeper than that. Sleep wasn't something he imagined was so easily acheived. The only reason he had been able to get a semblance of it was thanks to her. Holding her, being near her. The need to recover had also played a part but he figured that was over now. Night was the most haunting time, as it forced them to lay with their thoughts, plagued with their past actions and memories of them. But right now, it was all he could ask. With her not being in the room with him during the night, he hoped she had gotten at least a bit more rest than his previous state had permitted her to.

[Clarke Griffin]

What an idiot. Could he not see that he was not yet in a fit state to leave the station and to work again? So it was back in her hands to make sure he was taking care of him again. Nothing had changed there. At least it was a task she knew. She could do it in her sleep, perhaps. Not that sleep was an option anymore. She needed to make sure he would rest most of the time. She had to make sure he would eat and what not. At least that would distract her from her dangerous thoughts. Clarke hugged her pillow to her chest. “You should start listening to the doctors.” Her mother actually knew what she was talking about. Unlike Clarke, who had just been an apprentice. Her mother knew shit. He should have waited for her okay. What did he want? To collapse again? What would he have done had she not turned back?

“I can sleep when I’m dead.” And maybe she wanted to be. It would be easier. No more dealing with guilt, pain and rejection. Who’d mourn her? Him, maybe, her mother. Monty and Miller would be there for them, Jackson, Kane. Maybe it was better, easier for sure. And then the Grounders could no longer demand her life, should Lexas cowardice show again and she started blaming Tondc on her. That might happen, knowing this woman.

“You should get into bed and rest a little more. The camp isn’t awake yet anyway.” Once it started to wake, Clarke would have to find another reason for him to stay in bed - even if she would have to address his protective nature.

Bellamy Blake