( when Bellamy tells her to communicate if it's too much, she imagines that he doesn't mean it in the way that overwhelms her. because it isn't the sound of Bellamy's pulse on either side of her face, it isn't the rush of blood in his veins, it isn't the warmth of his closeness, it's that she's so suddenly reminded of Jason that something in her breaks.

she had been trying so hard to keep her hands tightly wound around her grief, pushing it down to a dull murmur, but in one movement, one touch, Bellamy unleashes it. because it's something Jason did with her many times, a gesture that was given often, and all she can think of is how much her chest aches in his absence, how half of her feels so very absent. her grief had been crippling when she was still human, but it feels amplified now, bigger than her entire person, and Clarke wonders how she's meant to keep it all inside of her.

hands lifting, her fingers curl around Bellamy's wrists, and the tears come quickly, hot down her cheeks, and the sob rattles in her chest. it's a desperate noise, a broken one, and Clarke's grip tightens on Bellamy, gripping him like a lifeline as she cries. )

I promised. ( her head ducks down, away from his, because even just staying like that hurts so much more than she wants to admit. ) I promised to protect him and I couldn't. I couldn't keep my promise. ( every part of her starts to tremble, hands shaking as she holds his wrists. ) I tried to bring him back and I failed and died and I can't try again. I can't bring him back. I promised.