Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 15, 2015 22:38:04 GMT
“What I need is something I can’t have.” It was a lot of things she couldn’t have. She wanted to go back, in time. To redo everything. To protect the people she cared about from being killed. Clarke wanted to retrace her steps and find out where she went wrong, because obviously at one point she had gone wrong somewhere. But where? And why? And how? What had set it in motion? At one point she had gone one step to far and she could no longer turn around and fix herself. No, what she needed was something she couldn’t have. She doubted she could be repaired. And she didn’t deserve it. With so many people thinking she wasn’t good enough, they must be on to something, right? She was just not good enough. It was the simple truth, wasn’t it? She just wasn’t good enough for anything but to be the one to make the hard decisions for her people. While Clarke still shed tears her sobs quieted. She needed to pull herself together. The damaged girl she was could not resurface ever again. Whoever she was, needed to be, that was to be her reality now, wasn’t it? However she was going to pull it off. All she knew she couldn’t go out to face the others in the morning. She’d… busy herself around the tent. She’d make it homely. But maybe she should talk to Bellamy before that. Because she didn’t even know if she was still welcome here.
“Bellamy. I need you to be honest with me.” She began. She was still in his arms, both palms now pressed to his chest, ready to push him away and get her things, the very few belongings of her. Clarke knew then and there where to go and how final it would be, but she knew she couldn’t tell him her destination. Wanting her or not, he’d stop her or try to. But her mind was set. She would only stay here if there was a chance to …. Keep at least the friendship, even if she would forever know she was just not good enough. He had feelings for her but it didn’t matter because she wasn’t enough. He was the one person with whom she up until a day ago she felt like she could be enough. And she was wrong. “Should I stay here or leave? I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore. I can just… you know sleep somewhere else. It’s not big deal. But I want to know if I’m still welcome here.” Maybe it was more than just a question if she was welcome in this tent. Maybe part of her wanted to hear if this, all of this could one day be good again, even though she knew deep down that nothing could be fixed anymore. It would never be good anymore, not with the people around… and she feared her relationship with Bellamy could never go back to the friendship it used to be. She lost it all. Another sob escaped her. The tears were back. She didn’t want to lose her friend through all of this. She spent those nights by his side praying he’d survive, praying she wouldn’t lose him, yet she had. In a different way, but she lost him. She really should go.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 15, 2015 20:15:08 GMT
The problem was obvious the moment he seemed to show the intention to move only nothing ever happened. Hopefully it was just due to what he had been injected with. If not his spine was damaged. Clarke felt her throat tighten at the idea that Bellamy, of all people, could come out here with permanent damage. She was too late. She was honestly too late. If he was paralyzed it was on her, because she had not been fast enough. This was her fault, only her fault. But she couldn’t tell him, not yet. Maybe they could fix it, in the station. They owed him to at least try. Until then she would not call it by their worst case scenario, she couldn’t because that might make it real for her too.
“It’s okay, Bellamy. You’re not supposed to move anyway.” She tried to soothe him. She needed him to stay calm and unmoving anyway. And she needed to explain to him as well as she could what was happening and what they had to do in an attempt to save him, if they even could. “From what I can see they drilled close to your spine. This might be just the anesthesia numbing the entire area and I just added to it with a second injection, which hopefully numbs the pain for a while longer.” Clarke ran her hand through his hair again. She needed to pack more of it in order to keep him as painfree as possible on the way back to camp. “I need you to not move. I can’t see the full extend of your wound like this. I’ll bind it, okay? And then we will get you onto a stretcher and take you home to Camp Jaha with us. There Jackson, Mom and I can look at it properly and fix it if they hurt something badly, if we can. Okay? You just have to hold on.” She had known the moment he brought up the idea that he could get hurt. She feared it, feared losing him. Now it appeared it came true. What if they couldn’t fix it? She didn’t want to think about that. Instead Clarke reached for disinfectant and what cloth she could find to bind the wound.
“I need help to put him on a stretcher.” She called out. Several of their friends came forward, two immediately coming to drag a stretcher with them. This would be hard. Maybe they could get a kart to transport him more comfortably. There had been some in the mines. They needed one of those at least. She could do it. If there was something they could save, they would. As the guys moved into position Clarke stopped them. “Be careful. You can’t, under any circumstances, move his spine, do you understand me? You have to take him over very, very carefully.” And they did. This was her fault.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 15, 2015 19:28:26 GMT
She hoped he was right. She hoped she could survive for him, for them. So they could all heal together. This had done more to them than just the physical wounds. Those would heal. There was no way it wouldn’t. The emotional wounds would be a lot harder to deal with. He had killed one of his friends. He had to watch helplessly as his friends were hurt, while she knew he was protective of them, he wanted to protect everyone in his care as the leader. Clarke could only suspect that his current nurturing side was an extension of this: he wanted to protect her and with that came caring for her wounds. Clarke felt for him. Someone would tend to him, she knew the others worried and they’d be there for him.
“I’d rather not. I hurt. It’s like my veins are on fire.” But she would try, somehow. Even though she wanted to escape the pain. It was better to try and focus on him in some way. She could watch his body move, his muscles flex, but she still wondered about his well being. Bellamy deserved her cooperating, fully. Which included everything. He wanted her to focus on herself, that included allowing him to care for all of her wounds, right? Clarke didn’t tell him what she wanted to do when she reached behind her to unclasp her bra and take it off. She felt her cheeks warm. It wasn’t exactly every day that one revealed their breasts to a friend, but he wanted to care for her, he wanted her to think of herself: That was how she was doing it: By allowing him to see what they had done to her in that area as well, the cuts and bruises there.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 15, 2015 18:05:07 GMT
Clarke felt helpless when someone – Bellamy – pulled her into his arms. She couldn’t react, couldn’t push them off, even if she wanted to. Her hands raised and frozen she didn’t know what to do. For just a moment even the sobs died in her throat as Bellamy held her against his chest, as his strong arms held her as if he could protect her against the world. But eventually she accepted his comforting gesture. Her hands dug into his shirt, probably lightly scratching his chest as she just held onto it. She wanted to be so small, small enough to disappear for good, but this world would not allow her to, no matter what, no matter how little people wanted her around. It seemed like her job was not yet done. They still needed someone to make those kinds of decisions for them, to break under the weight they were willing to put on their shoulders. She knew she already broke. She felt it in every tear that soaked Bellamys shirt now. She felt it in the way she clung to his shirt, in the way her body shivered and shook against him, despite how much pain had just been added to her burden by realizing that she was not even good enough for him. Not even good enough for her own mother. The blonde was sure there was no way she would ever forget the way she looked at her. She couldn’t run away from any of it. She could not be good enough in anyones eyes. She wanted to go back, back to the time when she was good enough for someone, when someone looked at her like she hung the moon and stars into the sky.
“I want my dad.” She sobbed into Bellamys chest. He was dead. Her mother killed him and almost her as well. And she had killed so many, but her dad was gone. There was no way she could ever be held by him again. There was no way her mother would hold her again without anything standing between them. They couldn’t go back in time, no matter how much she wanted to. There was nothing she could undo anymore. She had to live with herself, with who she became, whoever that was. It felt like she was falling apart, like everything holding her together in that moment were Bellamys arms and that in itself hurt, because Clarke was so used to holding herself together, yet she couldn’t do it anymore. It wasn’t fair. None of it was, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall apart. It would only confirm to everyone what she already knew they thought. Still shaking she tried to let go of Bellamy. Clarke uselessly wiped at her eyes in order to dry them but new tears followed.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t…. I know you don’t want….” She didn’t know what she wanted to say, how she wanted to make him understand that he didn’t need to be there for her. If he didn’t want to be there for her, she would not force him to and given his words yesterday and earlier, she shouldn’t even be here. She didn’t even know where to go, but she deserved that. Maybe she should go to Tondc and announce what she and Lexa had done. Maybe she should welcome her punishment, but she was scared. She just didn’t know where to go anymore, where up or down was or … who she was. “I’ll make sure not to let this happen again.” She certainly wouldn’t bother him with her pain anymore. He had enough to deal with by himself. She could deal with this by herself. She had to. Just then, still with him, she felt so terribly lonely that more tears escaped her. “I should… get food and tea for us.” Or she should leave. She just knew she had to do something, to make herself busy before she lost it again.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 15, 2015 17:17:13 GMT
She had shot Dante in a last desperate attempt to get Cage to do what she wanted, to let her friends go. Monty was visibly torn as Clarke spoke her threats to the man. He had to understand that she would go to all lengths, that she would do whatever it took to protect her friends. If this was what it took, she would go that way. She had so much blood on her hands already. She felt paralyzed as Monty and her had to watch everything escalate. They were trying to stop them, understandably. She would, too, but Clarke had offered them a deal, a way where they would all come out of it alive. She had offered it, yet they decided not to take it. It was Montys gasp that made her look up at the screen. Bellamy. They had him! For this second her conviction faltered. Her mind raced, trying to find another way. She needed to stop this. She needed to end this. For this moment, as she could only watch them put Bellamy on a table helplessly, all she could hear was Montys fast typing on the computer. The beginning knocks at the door and anything else drowned out. Cage, she noticed grinned up at the camera triumphantly, as if he knew exactly what this could mean. He had no idea. He had no idea that Bellamys scream almost made her sink to her knees, as if it was inflicting physical pain on her. Clare felt tears run down her cheeks, she heard Montys sobs, but she also still heard the typing despite the screams and drilling.
“You made your choice, Cage.” Clarke spoke into the radio, announcing to him that now there was no turning back anymore. With growing horror she had to watch her mother be put on another table. She had to watch Jasper being captured, as well as Octavia and Maya. It had to stop. Right now. The blonde was convinced she could not take another scream from Bellamy. Just then Monty announced that he did it. All she had to do was pull one lever. One simple pull and it would be over. Everyone, but her people, would die. But the pain would stop. Their people could go home. They had every chance to stop it, Clarke had offered it. In wonder Clarke watched Monty place his hand on hers, but she removed it. He had put enough guilt on his shoulder by making it possible for her. She still held onto his hand and he squeezed hers in return, trying to show his support. She pulled the lever.
Everyone was dying, yet the two of them still held onto each other only letting go as they moved out of the control room as if in a dream, in trance. The blonde didn’t stop to listen to Jasper. Maybe should have stayed with Monty, but even if she wanted, she couldn’t have. She needed to get to Bellamy and her mother. The first thing she saw was her mother. Every instinct, the pain in her heart told her to go to her, to hug her, to cry in her arms, but before she could even move her teary eyes fell to Bellamy. There was time for hugging her mother later. She was fine, but it seemed like Bellamy needed her more.
The blonde slipped her hand into his while her other ran through his hair, trying to get his attention. “I’m here, Bellamy. It’s over. I’ll take care of you.” Though at first glance she could tell what they did had caused damage. They obviously never cared for those they drilled. Maybe they caused more damage to him on purpose as her mother seemed to do just fine. But Bellamys wound was bleeding. “Get me that.” She instructed, pointing at an injection with anesthesia – why the hell did they not use it? It would be painful without and given what she had done that day already, this would at least be something she knew to deal with. With her mothers help she could do it. “It will be okay, Bellamy.” She said again, squeezing his hand softly just as she sank the needle into his skin. “You’ll be fine. Octavia is fine. You will get home soon. We all will. It’s over. Bell?”
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 15, 2015 15:58:20 GMT
She had no choice? She had no choice? Of all the things Lexa could have said that felt like an insult and a punch in the face at the same time. It wasn’t like Lexa could fix it with this short excuse of having had no choice. Of course she had a choice!! Clarke herself had proven it. She would have never walked out on the Grounders, like Lexa walked out on them. Clarke might have been just a medical student, but even she saw the strategy behind Mount Weather going to Lexa and offering her the deal. She should have never accepted it, because that was, what in the end proved what kind of leader she was. Maybe eventually this action would bite her in the ass. Right now, if Clarke could do it, she would personally arrange for that. And maybe then she’d stand before Lexa arguing she had no choice, while knowing it held as much truth as Lexas statement held: None. She had every choice. She held the advantage in her hand and decided to betray her alliance and her own people. She decided to betray Clarke on a very personal level. She made promises, so many, yet in the end, she betrayed her.
“You had every choice, Lexa. You chose to abandon us. Don’t tell me you had no choice. You and I know that’s an excuse. But I was there, too, Lexa. We stood before their open doors with an army and an army inside. You sacrificed 300 of your people for this, but ran from the actual fight. Not many of your people would have died, because we outnumbered them. The deal alone was a sign of their desperation. We had them, Lexa. We had them with their backs against the wall and no way out. Had you stayed strong and true to the alliance, we would have won with minimal bloodshed.” Clarke stepped back from her.
“Jus drein jus daun. How did you explain it to your people, that they did not get the revenge your people deserved according to your culture. We had to sacrifice Finn for killing 18 of your people. The Mountain Men killed and tortured countless of them, but you let them get away with it. Don’t tell me you had no choice. You had a choice. And you chose to break abandon your allies.”
@lexa
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 13, 2015 22:57:50 GMT
Clarke never thought that one day four simple words, spoken maybe in kindness could feel like a stab to her heart. They had a finality to them that she did not know how to deal with, so she didn’t. The blonde simply nodded before ducking out of the tent. For a moment she thought she might be able to break down there and then, but she felt the eyes of the others on her almost immediately, rendering her incapable of giving in to the urge to just react on this pain. Maybe it was for the better. Maybe not dealing was exactly what she needed. At the moment she doubted that she could break any further. Hadn’t she reached full capacity yet? Hadn’t she reached the point of no return yet? How much more could people hurt her? How much more could she tear herself apart in order to protect the people she loved? How long could she take being around the others? Clarke tried not to think of those questions as she worked with the others, building tents, tending to injuries, never looking into peoples faces, not even as they spoke about her or to her. The only moment she did, was when someone suggested a possible culprit for Bellamys poisoning. Was it possible? If they were right the entire idea of poisoning…. It was her fault, wasn’t it? It was because of her that someone hurt Bellamy.
When Clarke returned to the tent, her throat felt like it was on fire. The held back emotion left her in actual physical pain she could barely understand. Clarke knew emotions and heartbreak had power over a humans body. A broken heart could actually kill a human, as emotional distress could actually make things in the heart break. It was fascinating, as long as you were not affected. She was now. She felt the pain in her throat and it felt like there was a physical barrier before the tent that she could not cross. What if those words meant he did not want to see her anymore? What if she was no longer welcome? Anywhere actually? Clarke looked around. So many people were struggling, she could not let herself be weak, but she knew, at the end of this day she could not hold herself up anymore. This was what it felt like to break apart fully. Right then she couldn’t care about Bellamy. She let out a sob, just before she managed to stumble into the tent. She made it two steps inside before she allowed her legs to lose the fight against gravity, falling to the floor, crying. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t go out and help the people when their gazes tore her apart. She couldn’t keep wondering if she was welcome in her own tent or even here. She wanted to be enough for someone, yet she knew by now she wasn’t. It hurt so much.
“I can’t do this anymore. I…. it needs to stop.” She was whispering it more to herself, not expecting Bellamys help, not even knowing if he was there. Yet she didn’t even know how to make it stop. Running was an option, but what good would it do? It would not put her back together. Nothing would, but the sobs, the tears, the high pitched squeaks she let out at least helped her aching throat just a little, because she was finally letting it out.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 12, 2015 22:58:51 GMT
“We were meant to die anyway. Every single one of us was facing a death sentence. Earth is just a different way of execution for us.” She had to agree. They had sent them down here to die. They were desperate. Clarke understood their motivations, but the bitter truth remained: According to their knowledge it should have been more likely for them to die. Either immediately due to toxic air or slowly, through radiation, which still existed in the atmosphere as Clarke had learned in her short time in Mount Weather. Only their people had evolved, they could handle it now. Otherwise the 100 would be dead of radiation poisoning now. Not a single one has shown the slightest symptom in the time they should have appeared. But just then Murphy voiced something that made her blood boil with anger. Even just the thought of forgiving him and trying to understand disappeared with those words. Like so many others, knowing better or not, he reduced her once again to who she was born as, belittling what she was through, while she had tried to understand his struggle and just then make sense of his through process, never once trying to belittle any of his decisions, but trying to take him seriously. Just then she knew there was no point at all to this conversation anymore. If he could not see that others suffered as well, why should she continue to recognize it in him? Clarkes face immediately hardened, walls she didn’t even realize she lowered in an attempt to speak to him, were brought up again.
“Because I thought maybe there could be a good guy underneath the asshole. I guess I was wrong.” And with that he would not get any support from her against Raven or anyone else. He was on his own. He walked away, saying how he’d always be the bad guy to her and, yes, he was right, he just ensured that. “You made sure of that, by blowing the one chance you had to prove yourself.” Clarke looked as he walked away, but she made no move to follow him. Because why should she? She had more pressing issues at hand, like their friends in Mount Weather, the Grounders, even just the simple thought of winter approaching day by day. Once he was gone, Clarke, too, turned around to walk away.
@murphy (*kicks the muse* I couldn't make her walk after him. Sry)
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 12, 2015 12:45:51 GMT
@etain
Clarke had no idea how long she had been walking already. She had long since given up her clothing and replaced it with whatever she found – occasionally she had come across ruins of the old society, houses and what not. Since the people there were most obviously dead, she took whatever clothing she needed to stay warm enough through the ever colder days and nights. It was nearing winter. Clarke was no expert in weather, climate and what not, but she felt it. She felt it in the air around her in the way things grew colder and she needed more clothing to keep her warm. One day Clarke came across a mirror in one of the houses. She didn’t know the girl in the mirror anymore. The girl looked more like a grounder than an Arker. Maybe she was that now. She had the moral compass of a grounder maybe.
But with that realization came an idea: Grounders. If she went to them she might survive the winder. There was no way she could go back to her people. And so Clarke started to collect more herbs and to braid her hair. The next time she came across the village of Grounders, she did not turn away to hide again. She decided to take her chances. Clarke had her story – it was as close to the truth as possible. She dared to approach the village slowly in the evening. The leader of it allowed her to stay. Since she said she could heal people, she got accepted. Clarke moved into a small cabin just outside of the village. It had enough land and a little river for her to attempt to care for herself. Everything else she would need, could be traded with the village as she helped as a healer. Clarke had been living just outside the village for three days now when she dared to join a few others at the bonfire they had, together with a blanket to keep her warm. She had no intention of talking too much. She just wanted to join them right now. She saw next to a woman. “Hope you don’t mind.”
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 12, 2015 12:04:03 GMT
As much as Clarke trusted Lincoln, there was a problem with it: What if he didn’t have the antidote? What if he couldn’t find it? He would have to go by the symptoms, but what if they weren’t as telling as Bellamy thought they might be. What if there was more than one poison capable of similar symptoms? What if Lincoln could not save her? What if there was no hope and he was clinging to it regardless? He might need it, the feeling of being able to help at least her. And maybe that was also the reason why he wanted her to stop cleaning his wounds. He might just need to be active after what he had been through. If that was the way he wanted to cope, who was she to stop him? She might die. So in the end she ceased trying to clean his wounds and let him take action.
Clarke whimpered slightly once he started to wipe at her face. She could see the concentration in his face as he worked on cleaning her wounds. It might not matter soon. The moment he had to wring out the cloth again, Clarke pulled his shirt over her head so he could access the rest of her body – apart from the intimate areas – easily. She felt safe, knew she was safe with him, so she let him. “Can you… stay with me, Bellamy?” She whispered as he continued. “Please. We don’t know what will happen with the poison and… I don’t want to be alone.” She did not want to suffer, but she knew she would. There were not many people, who she could be around, who she wanted to be around. Bellamy was topping the list right now. “Will you let Octavia look at your wounds later? They need cleaning, too.” But she was currently probably worrying about Lincolns fast return.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 10, 2015 19:37:16 GMT
Admittedly she jumped a little as she heard him speak. He didn’t intend to sneak up on her, but he was right, she was deep enough in thought to not notice him come in, which caused her to jump like that. She didn’t mean to express fear of him, because she didn’t fear him. He was a good man, it seemed, but he did catch her by surprise. Clarke tried to save the situation by smiling at him. He seemed to understand her situation well enough to know. Clarke turned to him.
“Just dreaming, actually.” An impossible dream. Earth was impossible to reach. It was still toxic. Even if the levels of radiation would go down to make them survive the first days, after three weeks radiation poisoning would set in either way. They’d die either way. It didn’t matter right now. Clarke smiled at the man who joined her with a book. Who would have thought someone would share her passion for a quiet day, a good book and a good view. And maybe tea too. “You can take as much of the tea as you like, by the way. The perks of being born privileged. That is easy to come by for me.” Ridiculously easy actually. So she liked to share. It was not much, but something. Anything else missing would raise questions.
“So what are you reading at the moment?” She asked as she finally pulled her book to her – which was still as embarrassing to her as it was before: cheesy romance novel, but well it served the purpose. She’d just have to skip the juicy passages with him around. Those could get especially bad.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 10, 2015 16:16:22 GMT
“I won’t sleep.” It was quite simple to her. The dreams would come. I was day. She would not sleep. She refused to sleep right now. Maybe even in the night. Clarke knew her body would eventually demand sleep, but that was the only sleep she wanted. As soon as her body was this far, it would be like passing out: restful and dreamless most likely. She wanted to go for that. Everything else brought her dangerously close to having to deal, having to endure what her dreams showed her and to having to listen to the voiced in her heads, speaking the truth about what was going on around her every second, how she was not good enough and never would be. She didn’t deserve to heal. Most likely what happened to him was her doing as well and that would eventually be accounted for as well. Maybe he’d learn to hate her as she was not good enough for him anyway.
Clarke shrugged as he stated he hurt her. There was no point in denying it or confirming it. It didn’t matter. She had to deal with this situation in order to salvage whatever was left of their friendship. Lexas words came to her mine. Love is weakness. How right she was. She was beginning to understand why she was cutting herself off from whatever relationship she had, but Clarke knew she could never deny not having feelings herself. She had to numb herself to whatever she was feeling. She had to go out there, work, suffer under those looks and learn to deal with the people thinking of her like they did. It was the only way for her to proceed. There might be no way to go back to who she was before and she should let go of expecting anything pleasant. She was their leader, together with Bellamy. He inspired the masses, but it seemed like she finally found her place.
Maybe her place was to be the one making the decisions nobody else could. To bathe herself in blood when nobody else would dare to make this decision. To give up her soul to save theirs. I bear it so they don’t have to. She remembered those words spoken not only by herself. She’d bear it, their looks, the responsibility, the pain, so they could sleep at night. Maybe that was what she was good for. Not good enough, but at least something. “It’s okay. I understand, Bellamy. And really, I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It’s what it is, we’ll move on from that. We’ll continue to be their leaders, like every other day. I’ll deal with it. No point in dwelling on things that should be in the past. Let’s just move on and forget this ever happened. I should go, get to work.” With that she slowly got up from the bed, to get her clothes and prepare to go out.
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 8, 2015 22:50:39 GMT
Looked like neither of them would get too much sleep that night. If sleep way even something she could consider to begin with given how the pain would just stay the whole night long. It was okay, really. She could deal with it, even if it wasn’t easy. Pain was never easy to deal with. But focusing on Charlotte was a good way to not think about it, a good distraction. For now she was locked up. Nobody could hurt her and she could not hurt anyone else – unless she wanted to go through her and Bellamy, which a twelve year old would not be able to. Bellamy was simply physically stronger than her.
“Hanging has been out of proportion even with Murphy.” She had seen the dynamic that has been developed, it was on her. All of this was on her and well Murphy. He had made it necessary. Then again he probably would have done it sooner or later. He had it in him, as he had proven spectacularly. Clarke sighed as she tried to think of a way to punish her without having to sign her death sentence. “We could banish her in a way. We could rule that people are not to speak to her, though it that would work is another question in itself.”
Bellamy Blake
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 8, 2015 20:01:11 GMT
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
|
|
Offline
Nov 26, 2020 21:43:23 GMT
Tag me @clarke
|
|
Post by Clarke Griffin on Sept 8, 2015 18:50:16 GMT
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
|
|
