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✪ timeskip
BELLAMY BLAKE |
PLANS
SUMMARY OF KNOWN DETAILS TIMELINE OF EVENTS
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| ( codes by whambam ) |
Entry tags:
[He makes a face. Yeah, he gets that.]
There's infinite magic possibilities here, apparently, I doubt it's the hardest task in the world. [He is surprisingly optimistic for a cynic.] If it gives people a chance for a voice, it shouldn't be hard to get them involved either.
There's infinite magic possibilities here, apparently, I doubt it's the hardest task in the world. [He is surprisingly optimistic for a cynic.] If it gives people a chance for a voice, it shouldn't be hard to get them involved either.
No. They would not. A gift or a curse - who decides which it might be?
[ She says it with some consideration, her eyes distracted for a moment. She knew that debate personally, wondering if her own suffering was one or the other, unsure if she should think one way or the opposite, if she should welcome it or shame it. She is agitated with it, frustrated, and she says nothing - she simply nods her head, breathes.
Her eyes look at her sleeves, her hands reach but do not touch the blood on her face, and, finally, her lips curl. ]
Deer. Hare. Crow. I forget the others.
[ She says it with some consideration, her eyes distracted for a moment. She knew that debate personally, wondering if her own suffering was one or the other, unsure if she should think one way or the opposite, if she should welcome it or shame it. She is agitated with it, frustrated, and she says nothing - she simply nods her head, breathes.
Her eyes look at her sleeves, her hands reach but do not touch the blood on her face, and, finally, her lips curl. ]
Deer. Hare. Crow. I forget the others.
I think that given how well the current system of government is going, you wouldn't struggle to pull that off either.
( as soon as Bellamy begins moving she closes her sketchbook, tossing it to the end of the bed as he says her name, reaching for her. part of her- well, part of her wants to shrink back and away, wants to ensure he can't, and it's less that she doesn't want him to, and more that she feels like she doesn't even deserve it anymore. they've come a long way from where they were a year ago, finding a comfort in the presence of each other, and Clarke-
she feels like she shouldn't be allowed to have this, not after what she did back in their world, even if it was just a dream.
but she has to do her best right now, he needs her to, she needs herself to. she forces up a thin smile, reaching her hand down to rest atop his, thumb stroking over the back of his hand, an effort in comfort. she doesn't know what he's learned about home, if anything at all, and the last thing she needs to do is try and explain I sent you to die. )
Hey. Welcome back.
she feels like she shouldn't be allowed to have this, not after what she did back in their world, even if it was just a dream.
but she has to do her best right now, he needs her to, she needs herself to. she forces up a thin smile, reaching her hand down to rest atop his, thumb stroking over the back of his hand, an effort in comfort. she doesn't know what he's learned about home, if anything at all, and the last thing she needs to do is try and explain I sent you to die. )
Hey. Welcome back.
[Relief rushes through him when he feels her hand, and he doesn't even think about turning it over, curling his fingers around hers and nearly engulfing them in his grip.]
You too. [Right?? That makes sense - she was out too. She's awake now. They're both back, and he hopes she wasn't sitting there alone for the same amount of time he was, though he suspects it's a dumb hope to have.]
[Bellamy finally sits up, resting one elbow on his leg as he leans his head into his hand. Part of him still feels like he should be there, inside Mount Weather, not here with Clarke where it's safer. But even looking down at his clothes, they're the dark ones he remembered last - not the uniform stolen from Lovejoy's corpse.]
[He exhales suddenly, still holding her hand. It's - so calm, sitting here like this. It's so jarring and he's tense with the memories, except in his hand where his fingers with hers are both iron and gentle.] I saw home.
You too. [Right?? That makes sense - she was out too. She's awake now. They're both back, and he hopes she wasn't sitting there alone for the same amount of time he was, though he suspects it's a dumb hope to have.]
[Bellamy finally sits up, resting one elbow on his leg as he leans his head into his hand. Part of him still feels like he should be there, inside Mount Weather, not here with Clarke where it's safer. But even looking down at his clothes, they're the dark ones he remembered last - not the uniform stolen from Lovejoy's corpse.]
[He exhales suddenly, still holding her hand. It's - so calm, sitting here like this. It's so jarring and he's tense with the memories, except in his hand where his fingers with hers are both iron and gentle.] I saw home.
( as soon as he admits to having seen home, her grip on his hand tightens significantly, curling her fingers into his. the motion of it claws its way up her throat, because it's only been a few hours. hours of replaying the memories of home, of a headache of memories from the Drabwurld rushing back, then the vision of the spire falling.
the comfort in having Bellamy be awake is immediate, and it's almost impossible for the anxiety and upset of home to eclipse that. Clarke might not know how to grapple with her new memories, but she knows she would be far less capable of doing it without Bellamy here.
there's a tightness to her voice when she finally speaks up, and she intends to tell him that she dreamed of him, too. that it wasn't just him, but- )
I didn't know if you were going to wake up. ( she swallows back the lump in her throat, gripping his hand a little tighter. it all comes out in a rush after that, like if she doesn't get everything out now, her throat might close around her words. ) I dreamed of home and woke up, and I wasn't sure if you'd stay asleep like other people have, and I didn't- I didn't know what to do. ( I was scared. )
the comfort in having Bellamy be awake is immediate, and it's almost impossible for the anxiety and upset of home to eclipse that. Clarke might not know how to grapple with her new memories, but she knows she would be far less capable of doing it without Bellamy here.
there's a tightness to her voice when she finally speaks up, and she intends to tell him that she dreamed of him, too. that it wasn't just him, but- )
I didn't know if you were going to wake up. ( she swallows back the lump in her throat, gripping his hand a little tighter. it all comes out in a rush after that, like if she doesn't get everything out now, her throat might close around her words. ) I dreamed of home and woke up, and I wasn't sure if you'd stay asleep like other people have, and I didn't- I didn't know what to do. ( I was scared. )
[It's not that everything else in his head goes away - that'd be impossible - but the shift in everything about Clarke draws his attention sharply. The fact that he has no idea what she'd seen because they'd separated again, especially after everything they've done together in the Drabwurld, leaves him uncomfortable, as much as he doesn't regret his choice to infiltrate the mountain.]
[His grip tightens too, as desperate as it is reassuring.] Like hell I'd just sleep my way through this place. [It's meant to be lighthearted, but he means it. Like hell I'd leave you alone here.]
[Bellamy's other hand moves, quietly cupping her face, thumb on her cheek. He startles himself with the contact, almost enough to pull away, but he keeps it there, keeps his gaze on her stubbornly. Between the pictures of home (hanging from his ankles, his blood drained before he drained someone else's) maybe he needs a little proof that his hands aren't just for killing. Between that and the visions, the spire collapsing as the biggest welcome back fuck you, the contact is more grounding than he wants to analyze. So he just rolls with it. He wants her attention.] I'm awake now. It's done.
[That she'd been scared, on his behalf, might have scared him a year ago, but he's long since come to terms with how similarly he'd feel (and has felt).] It's okay. We're okay.
[His grip tightens too, as desperate as it is reassuring.] Like hell I'd just sleep my way through this place. [It's meant to be lighthearted, but he means it. Like hell I'd leave you alone here.]
[Bellamy's other hand moves, quietly cupping her face, thumb on her cheek. He startles himself with the contact, almost enough to pull away, but he keeps it there, keeps his gaze on her stubbornly. Between the pictures of home (hanging from his ankles, his blood drained before he drained someone else's) maybe he needs a little proof that his hands aren't just for killing. Between that and the visions, the spire collapsing as the biggest welcome back fuck you, the contact is more grounding than he wants to analyze. So he just rolls with it. He wants her attention.] I'm awake now. It's done.
[That she'd been scared, on his behalf, might have scared him a year ago, but he's long since come to terms with how similarly he'd feel (and has felt).] It's okay. We're okay.
If people wanna be and stay in charge, earning loyalty is better than forcing it.
[Having been on both ends of that spectrum, he can say that more easily.] The latter is necessary sometimes, but you have to prove it in the end too.
[Having been on both ends of that spectrum, he can say that more easily.] The latter is necessary sometimes, but you have to prove it in the end too.
Edited 2015-05-18 05:33 (UTC)
The person it's put upon, probably. [His response is born both out of refusal to let someone else dictate a choice and what it means to make your own, even on something like curses verses gifts.]
[He nods once.] And what'd you do with 'em?
[Because even if it's easier to get food in this world than his own, the idea of wasting any sort of game leaves him wary.]
[He nods once.] And what'd you do with 'em?
[Because even if it's easier to get food in this world than his own, the idea of wasting any sort of game leaves him wary.]
[She's grinning. He knows it. She doesn't even have to be a human, he just knows, and it only manages to annoy him in return.]
[He pushes her back with his leg in return (gently all the same), rolling his eyes.] I don't need you to tell me where to go, or we wouldn't be in this mess, now would we?
[He might not have thought that retort through, but that's basically the story of his life. He does start moving again though, going back and forth between watching the area and watching Clarke (both out of habit and in suspicion).]
[He pushes her back with his leg in return (gently all the same), rolling his eyes.] I don't need you to tell me where to go, or we wouldn't be in this mess, now would we?
[He might not have thought that retort through, but that's basically the story of his life. He does start moving again though, going back and forth between watching the area and watching Clarke (both out of habit and in suspicion).]
We're not- ( she stops short, lips pursed before she corrects herself. ) I'm not.
( her voice catches after that, because she isn't. she's really not. it was easier back home, it was so much easier. because she had been given the same choice there as she had here after Nuala had died. the option to turn it off and push it away; the grief and the guilt and the overwhelming pain of it. but back here- back in the Drabwurld she promised not to, she promised too many people, and now she's terrified that she doesn't know how to navigate it this time. )
I killed- ( her breath catches and she grips his hand hard enough that her own fingers ache, and her shoulders start toe shake from how hard she's trying to not cry. she can't, she can't, because she isn't sure she'll be able to stop if she starts to. her voice shakes, pitches higher, and she isn't going to cry, she isn't- ) Bellamy, I-
( her voice catches after that, because she isn't. she's really not. it was easier back home, it was so much easier. because she had been given the same choice there as she had here after Nuala had died. the option to turn it off and push it away; the grief and the guilt and the overwhelming pain of it. but back here- back in the Drabwurld she promised not to, she promised too many people, and now she's terrified that she doesn't know how to navigate it this time. )
I killed- ( her breath catches and she grips his hand hard enough that her own fingers ache, and her shoulders start toe shake from how hard she's trying to not cry. she can't, she can't, because she isn't sure she'll be able to stop if she starts to. her voice shakes, pitches higher, and she isn't going to cry, she isn't- ) Bellamy, I-
Edited 2015-05-18 06:56 (UTC)
[Waver nods in agreement.]
Oh, on that part I agree. I try and practice that at every opportunity.
Oh, on that part I agree. I try and practice that at every opportunity.
[It's mechanic to say it: I'm okay, we're okay, meager means of reassurance when it's suddenly very clear that neither of them are fine. And he knows she must have - seen up to a certain point. Watched herself kill Finn.]
[His expression collapses with hers, and there's a part of him that's glad she doesn't repeat as she'd done at home and close herself off. But the other part hurts for how much she's hurting.]
I know. [His voice is gentle as his hand moves from her face to the back of her head, and he lets go of her hand so he can pull her towards him, arm wrapping solidly around her. He couldn't do this before, for too many reasons to care about. He understands her choice, and he'd told her so at home too; there isn't an ounce of blame in his tone or frame. It doesn't mean it'll get any easier, but she is Clarke and he is Bellamy, and they wouldn't have gotten this far if they didn't understand even the most haunted parts of each other.] I know.
[She doesn't have to say it, she doesn't have to do or say anything she can't bring herself to, because he already knows. All he can do is just - keep holding her, cradling her head with Finn's death hanging in the air between them.]
[His expression collapses with hers, and there's a part of him that's glad she doesn't repeat as she'd done at home and close herself off. But the other part hurts for how much she's hurting.]
I know. [His voice is gentle as his hand moves from her face to the back of her head, and he lets go of her hand so he can pull her towards him, arm wrapping solidly around her. He couldn't do this before, for too many reasons to care about. He understands her choice, and he'd told her so at home too; there isn't an ounce of blame in his tone or frame. It doesn't mean it'll get any easier, but she is Clarke and he is Bellamy, and they wouldn't have gotten this far if they didn't understand even the most haunted parts of each other.] I know.
[She doesn't have to say it, she doesn't have to do or say anything she can't bring herself to, because he already knows. All he can do is just - keep holding her, cradling her head with Finn's death hanging in the air between them.]
during the canon update sleep:
They were choking on smoke. It stung the eyes and burned the throat; walking through fire which roared high as forests, a hellish, scorched landscape.
Something in the distance roared, and they knew to fear it. Began to race and run, batting the air to help to clear it.
But the sound hadn't been an animal one. Nor a thing a human throat could mate. It sounded like steel and iron rent to breaking. Like great gears grinding.
They burst from the maze of fire to a windswept ledge, and tasted sea-salt air; a landward breeze buffet the fire and smoke back enough that it pressed like cool kisses against their faces, and stretched before them was a great vision of ruin.
Giant hulking monsters made of metal rampaged. Great cog-and-gear machines with dragonlike maws that spanned stories tall trod upon the village, worked in tandem to roar and slam their bodies against a falling spire to knock it to ruin. Their eyes gleamed with the light of Shards, winked like coals in the night.
They spread the fire and the fear and could not be stopped.
( her arms hover without touching him, without returning the hug. it isn't that- it's not that she doesn't want to, but that small part of her that reminds her of how undeserving of this she is pulls at the back of her mind, and Clarke can feel her breath coming faster now, picking up with the rate of her heart, and it's taking everything she has to not cry. every other indication of it is there, the way her breath stutters, the shake of her shoulders, but she's trying so hard to keep the tears at bay. it's only out of stubborn determination that they don't fall yet.
she killed Finn and he thanked her for it. she can still remember Raven's cry of pain when Clarke had stepped away, remembers the way Finn's blood slicked her hands, remembers the way he haunted her after.
and she remembers sending Bellamy away.
Clarke's hands shake as she leans into him heavily, more than she means or wants to, but the solid presence of him is all that's keeping her together. she's a million pieces of herself, a mixed puzzle with parts that belong to two different pictures. there's the Clarke here in the Drabwurld that wouldn't have ever done that to Bellamy, but there's the Clarke she dreams of back home that sent him away because loving people was too much of a weakness for her. the pieces don't fit together, and it's a struggle to even try. )
I'm- I'm sorry. I'm- ( the tears feel hot on her cheeks when they start to fall and she has to swallow back a sob to keep from making any noise. it's bad enough she's crying, she can't let this take over, too. ) I sent you away. I t-told you I couldn't lose you and I- And I sent you away. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Finn's- Finn is dead and you're gone and it's my fault, I'm sorry-
she killed Finn and he thanked her for it. she can still remember Raven's cry of pain when Clarke had stepped away, remembers the way Finn's blood slicked her hands, remembers the way he haunted her after.
and she remembers sending Bellamy away.
Clarke's hands shake as she leans into him heavily, more than she means or wants to, but the solid presence of him is all that's keeping her together. she's a million pieces of herself, a mixed puzzle with parts that belong to two different pictures. there's the Clarke here in the Drabwurld that wouldn't have ever done that to Bellamy, but there's the Clarke she dreams of back home that sent him away because loving people was too much of a weakness for her. the pieces don't fit together, and it's a struggle to even try. )
I'm- I'm sorry. I'm- ( the tears feel hot on her cheeks when they start to fall and she has to swallow back a sob to keep from making any noise. it's bad enough she's crying, she can't let this take over, too. ) I sent you away. I t-told you I couldn't lose you and I- And I sent you away. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Finn's- Finn is dead and you're gone and it's my fault, I'm sorry-
Hm. [ She says nothing, but it's obvious that she approves of his answer. It shows thought, a bit of intelligence, and Lauralae appreciates it - not that she says it. All she does is turn her gaze away for a moment, turn her head down, considering, thoughtful.
He continues, of course, and she lets her lips twist into an almost there smirk, a little dark and dangerous. ]
I ate them.
[ In her wolf form, of course. She had devoured them. ]
He continues, of course, and she lets her lips twist into an almost there smirk, a little dark and dangerous. ]
I ate them.
[ In her wolf form, of course. She had devoured them. ]
[His fingers move, carding through her hair, moving in a gesture of assurance and comfort. Bellamy can feel every bit of her shaking, and he doesn't have to see her face to recognize her tears are on the way. This close, it'd be impossible to misread her.]
[When she speaks, starts crying, his arm tightens around her and he presses the side of his head to hers. She doesn't have to return it, but it doesn't mean he'll stop hugging her. His voice is gruff with the emotional volcano they're sitting in, not an angry hard just - edging on overwhelmed not by her but everything around them.] It's not your fault. I made that choice just as much as you did. Going inside the mountain was my idea.
[He remembers being struck with a strange sense of upset by her agreement, her decree of being weak coming off her initial I can't lose you too. He understood it, like he understands all of her choices, but the surprise of it was the unintended admission of how much she did care and how terrible it was to watch her try and cast it off.]
[He won't let her do that here. The Drabwurld is not home, no matter how many parallels and similar decisions they've been pushed to make. He has no regrets about entering the mountain, no matter what he's had to do so far, because it means they're one step closer to saving their people. Killing for them is just the easier part of what he'd go through for it.]
Clarke. I don't blame you, okay? Not for anything.
[When she speaks, starts crying, his arm tightens around her and he presses the side of his head to hers. She doesn't have to return it, but it doesn't mean he'll stop hugging her. His voice is gruff with the emotional volcano they're sitting in, not an angry hard just - edging on overwhelmed not by her but everything around them.] It's not your fault. I made that choice just as much as you did. Going inside the mountain was my idea.
[He remembers being struck with a strange sense of upset by her agreement, her decree of being weak coming off her initial I can't lose you too. He understood it, like he understands all of her choices, but the surprise of it was the unintended admission of how much she did care and how terrible it was to watch her try and cast it off.]
[He won't let her do that here. The Drabwurld is not home, no matter how many parallels and similar decisions they've been pushed to make. He has no regrets about entering the mountain, no matter what he's had to do so far, because it means they're one step closer to saving their people. Killing for them is just the easier part of what he'd go through for it.]
Clarke. I don't blame you, okay? Not for anything.
( her hands finally find him, reaching for his shoulders, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as she clutches him. holds tightly as though, should she let go, he might be gone again. and that's the fear, isn't it? that she isn't really awake in the Drabwurld, that it's a dream while she's home.
breaths coming in stuttered gasps, she presses her forehead into his shoulder, choking back on a noise that tries to escape. she killed Finn. she killed him and it's the type of blood that she'll never be able to get off, not even here in the Drabwurld. and when it got to be too much, when the guilt was ready to swallow her whole, she sent Bellamy away instead of falling back on his support.
he says he doesn't blame her, but- )
I blame myself.
( for not finding Finn sooner, for not keeping him safe, for not finding a different way that spared his life, for agreeing with Lexa about weaknesses, for sending Bellamy away. she blames herself, because there is no one else to blame. )
I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know- ( her fingers tighten their grip in his shirt and she lifts her head to look at him properly, desperation leveled in her gaze. ) What do you remember? What happened at Mount Weather? Bellamy I need to know what happened to you.
breaths coming in stuttered gasps, she presses her forehead into his shoulder, choking back on a noise that tries to escape. she killed Finn. she killed him and it's the type of blood that she'll never be able to get off, not even here in the Drabwurld. and when it got to be too much, when the guilt was ready to swallow her whole, she sent Bellamy away instead of falling back on his support.
he says he doesn't blame her, but- )
I blame myself.
( for not finding Finn sooner, for not keeping him safe, for not finding a different way that spared his life, for agreeing with Lexa about weaknesses, for sending Bellamy away. she blames herself, because there is no one else to blame. )
I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know- ( her fingers tighten their grip in his shirt and she lifts her head to look at him properly, desperation leveled in her gaze. ) What do you remember? What happened at Mount Weather? Bellamy I need to know what happened to you.
[His face falls, even if she can't see it, and his grip tightens again around her. How could he possibly try and take that from her? He knows she was the one who plunged the knife, but he's the one who made the first mistake and sent Finn off with the gun. She blames herself and Bellamy feels so helpless to persuade her not to.]
Clarke, he - [He what? Was going to die anyway? She spared him that torture? What good are these reassurances right now?]
[Especially because she asks him about the Mountain.] I don't. I never will. I swear on my life, Clarke, I don't blame you for any of this. [It's a promise he has to make, before he goes on.]
[He's going to tell her, he is. Keeping Mount Weather to himself was never on the table, but he hesitates right now.] I got in. I was fine, last I saw. Maya helped me. If you don't remember. [Because he'd managed to find her, on the radio, and he remembers the sound of her voice helping him to press on. The big events have been covered, but who knows how far apart they are again by the details?]
[He's still holding her head, and he meets her gaze. She's so close, it's so impossible to lie, to brush it off, because there is nothing in him that wants to keep these secrets.] I didn't get the same treatment you did. They decontaminate the Grounders a little more aggressively. [His neck feels heavy, like it should be bruised, and he swallows.] Chains and powerwashing. Cleanest I felt in months. [He spits it out intended as a joke, but it's more hostile than that. There was also a lot more to it than the simplistic description he offers, and he wouldn't be surprised if she could tell.] You were at the Grounder cages. That's where I ended up.
Clarke, he - [He what? Was going to die anyway? She spared him that torture? What good are these reassurances right now?]
[Especially because she asks him about the Mountain.] I don't. I never will. I swear on my life, Clarke, I don't blame you for any of this. [It's a promise he has to make, before he goes on.]
[He's going to tell her, he is. Keeping Mount Weather to himself was never on the table, but he hesitates right now.] I got in. I was fine, last I saw. Maya helped me. If you don't remember. [Because he'd managed to find her, on the radio, and he remembers the sound of her voice helping him to press on. The big events have been covered, but who knows how far apart they are again by the details?]
[He's still holding her head, and he meets her gaze. She's so close, it's so impossible to lie, to brush it off, because there is nothing in him that wants to keep these secrets.] I didn't get the same treatment you did. They decontaminate the Grounders a little more aggressively. [His neck feels heavy, like it should be bruised, and he swallows.] Chains and powerwashing. Cleanest I felt in months. [He spits it out intended as a joke, but it's more hostile than that. There was also a lot more to it than the simplistic description he offers, and he wouldn't be surprised if she could tell.] You were at the Grounder cages. That's where I ended up.
I do remember.
( some of it is fuzzy, feels worlds away (it is), and she's still muddling through the things that were a dream and the memories of the Drabwurld. but she remembers that; she remembers feeling such despair that she was ready to give up. she remembers finding out that they were bleeding the kids, remembers not hearing from Bellamy, remembers Raven telling her that she killed Finn and wasn't allowed to give up.
(and she did, she did, she did. she killed him and he thanked her, and all she can remember is not being able to scrub hard enough to get his blood off her hands and how his last words were thanks, princess and the way Raven screamed loud enough for the world to hear her.)
but she remembers Bellamy's voice over the radio, and the surge of hope in her chest. those things she remembers, too.
his explanation is processing is far and away different from her own. she woke up in a stark white room and just had to wait to be cleared for contamination; only delayed by her own (rightful) suspicion of the Mountain and its residents. she regrets what she did to Mia, now, but back then it felt necessary in order to find their people. but Bellamy-
her face is blank as she stares at him. it isn't a disconnect so much as she's trying very hard to keep herself together for this, to not keep crying, to listen. )
You're being vague so I don't feel worse, aren't you?
( some of it is fuzzy, feels worlds away (it is), and she's still muddling through the things that were a dream and the memories of the Drabwurld. but she remembers that; she remembers feeling such despair that she was ready to give up. she remembers finding out that they were bleeding the kids, remembers not hearing from Bellamy, remembers Raven telling her that she killed Finn and wasn't allowed to give up.
(and she did, she did, she did. she killed him and he thanked her, and all she can remember is not being able to scrub hard enough to get his blood off her hands and how his last words were thanks, princess and the way Raven screamed loud enough for the world to hear her.)
but she remembers Bellamy's voice over the radio, and the surge of hope in her chest. those things she remembers, too.
his explanation is processing is far and away different from her own. she woke up in a stark white room and just had to wait to be cleared for contamination; only delayed by her own (rightful) suspicion of the Mountain and its residents. she regrets what she did to Mia, now, but back then it felt necessary in order to find their people. but Bellamy-
her face is blank as she stares at him. it isn't a disconnect so much as she's trying very hard to keep herself together for this, to not keep crying, to listen. )
You're being vague so I don't feel worse, aren't you?
[There's a moment where he thinks he might panic, when she looks at him blankly, because he can't bear the idea of her closing off now, before he realizes she's just - trying to listen, as best she can, in the face of everything else.]
[He leans forward, pressing his face into her shoulder, taking a second.] Not on purpose.
[It's part of it, of course. He doesn't want to put this on her with everything else she's dealing with, but the other part is just that he's still processing it. It was such a rush, from the moment Lincoln failed him to the moment he woke up here beside her. It still doesn't feel like it happened.]
Everyone's shackled, hands, feet neck. They poke and prod them. Test them, probably. [It's easier to phrase it as though it's something that happens only to Grounders, distancing himself from it. They did so much, and he honestly can't tell what some of it was.] There're injections. Powders, pills. Maybe chemicals.
[He doesn't wait before jumping to the next part, not wanting to dwell on it.] I woke up in a cage. They tried to take the Grounder next to me to bleed her. [He can see that split second decision to kick the bars, to draw the attention on him. It was as much a way for him to get out of the cage as it was to stop them from taking her.] I got them to take me instead.
[His hands wrinkle into her shirt. Clarke saw the riggings. He doesn't need to explain it. He's not even sure he could right now, not with his chest tightening.] When I came to again, Maya was there. She did something. Helped me get down.
[Short, quick sentences. It gets the simple parts out.] Helped me get out.
[He leans forward, pressing his face into her shoulder, taking a second.] Not on purpose.
[It's part of it, of course. He doesn't want to put this on her with everything else she's dealing with, but the other part is just that he's still processing it. It was such a rush, from the moment Lincoln failed him to the moment he woke up here beside her. It still doesn't feel like it happened.]
Everyone's shackled, hands, feet neck. They poke and prod them. Test them, probably. [It's easier to phrase it as though it's something that happens only to Grounders, distancing himself from it. They did so much, and he honestly can't tell what some of it was.] There're injections. Powders, pills. Maybe chemicals.
[He doesn't wait before jumping to the next part, not wanting to dwell on it.] I woke up in a cage. They tried to take the Grounder next to me to bleed her. [He can see that split second decision to kick the bars, to draw the attention on him. It was as much a way for him to get out of the cage as it was to stop them from taking her.] I got them to take me instead.
[His hands wrinkle into her shirt. Clarke saw the riggings. He doesn't need to explain it. He's not even sure he could right now, not with his chest tightening.] When I came to again, Maya was there. She did something. Helped me get down.
[Short, quick sentences. It gets the simple parts out.] Helped me get out.
And then you got on the radio to me.
( her voice is empty the way a dead thing might be. there's no sympathy laced in her words, no emotion etched into the syllables, no catch in her breath. it isn't that she's closing off, that she's shutting down, it's that there is so much that she doesn't know what to do with it all.
the guilt is a heavy pressure, a growing burden, and she's sure that her knees will buckle beneath her before she can manage to shoulder it and keep going. it's Finn killing a village, it's her killing Finn, it's everyone blaming her for her choices in that, it's having sent Bellamy to Mount Weather, and now it's this. the experimentation, the torture, that they hung him for his blood. she feels so responsible, feels so guilty, and it compresses her chest until she can't breathe, as though she can't get enough air despite how many breaths she might take.
and the house feels too small, and Bellamy too close, and the noises of people outside too loud, and there is so much guilt-
Bellamy's head is on her shoulder and Clarke's reaching up before she thinks better of it, cards her fingers through his hair as her free hand lifts, shaking, to whisk the tears from her face. she doesn't know when they started falling, can't even remember now, but of course she is. of course she's crying, because does she know how to do anything else when the guilt presses down on her? will she ever know how to do anything else in response to it?
I was being weak. I was being weak. I was being weak. I was being weak.
she can't swallow back the raw sob that claws its way up her throat, can't remember how to breathe around it, and god, she wonders if this is what drowning feels like.
she's being weak and she doesn't know how to stop. )
( her voice is empty the way a dead thing might be. there's no sympathy laced in her words, no emotion etched into the syllables, no catch in her breath. it isn't that she's closing off, that she's shutting down, it's that there is so much that she doesn't know what to do with it all.
the guilt is a heavy pressure, a growing burden, and she's sure that her knees will buckle beneath her before she can manage to shoulder it and keep going. it's Finn killing a village, it's her killing Finn, it's everyone blaming her for her choices in that, it's having sent Bellamy to Mount Weather, and now it's this. the experimentation, the torture, that they hung him for his blood. she feels so responsible, feels so guilty, and it compresses her chest until she can't breathe, as though she can't get enough air despite how many breaths she might take.
and the house feels too small, and Bellamy too close, and the noises of people outside too loud, and there is so much guilt-
Bellamy's head is on her shoulder and Clarke's reaching up before she thinks better of it, cards her fingers through his hair as her free hand lifts, shaking, to whisk the tears from her face. she doesn't know when they started falling, can't even remember now, but of course she is. of course she's crying, because does she know how to do anything else when the guilt presses down on her? will she ever know how to do anything else in response to it?
I was being weak. I was being weak. I was being weak. I was being weak.
she can't swallow back the raw sob that claws its way up her throat, can't remember how to breathe around it, and god, she wonders if this is what drowning feels like.
she's being weak and she doesn't know how to stop. )
[He tenses at the sound of her voice, and he feels like he needs to pull away. He shouldn't have told her, he shouldn't be putting any of this on her right now. All he's done is add to her burden when he wants to rip it from her hands.]
[It's impossible, though. Clarke has proven herself capable of making the kinds of decisions he thought she couldn't, but it's dealing with them that keeps ruining them both. They can't take it from each other all the time. They have to - handle it. Somehow.] It wasn't your fault. What happened to me wasn't your fault, Clarke.
[If his voice is scratchy, it's probably because he's starting crying too. He doesn't deserve her hand in his hair, but he can't bring himself to break from it. It's so much gentler than metal and chains.]
Stay. Please. [Bellamy doesn't know what he can offer her in return, but he's so scared she's going to shut down, even with the way her sob racks her body. His arms hold her tighter, not hard enough to hurt but enough to - to ground her, maybe. Like she's doing for him now. It's probably selfish. He'd probably let her go too, if she needed that. There are a thousand things he would do for Clarke, but he can't figure out what she needs now.]
It's not weak. You weren't being weak, keeping me from the Mountain. We had to get in there. We're going to save them.
[It's impossible, though. Clarke has proven herself capable of making the kinds of decisions he thought she couldn't, but it's dealing with them that keeps ruining them both. They can't take it from each other all the time. They have to - handle it. Somehow.] It wasn't your fault. What happened to me wasn't your fault, Clarke.
[If his voice is scratchy, it's probably because he's starting crying too. He doesn't deserve her hand in his hair, but he can't bring himself to break from it. It's so much gentler than metal and chains.]
Stay. Please. [Bellamy doesn't know what he can offer her in return, but he's so scared she's going to shut down, even with the way her sob racks her body. His arms hold her tighter, not hard enough to hurt but enough to - to ground her, maybe. Like she's doing for him now. It's probably selfish. He'd probably let her go too, if she needed that. There are a thousand things he would do for Clarke, but he can't figure out what she needs now.]
It's not weak. You weren't being weak, keeping me from the Mountain. We had to get in there. We're going to save them.
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