Work Text:
For twelve days they had been travelling. For twelve days they had marched and driven and rode towards an uncertain last hope. ALIE's message was their driving force. Clinging to any possibility of survival, the Arkadians- and a handful of grounders- slowly made their way through the dense wilderness, hoping for a light at the end of the tunnel, hoping for a chance at a future.
Bellamy wasn't entirely convinced that there would be a happy ending to their story. Nothing about the ground had ever been that simple. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to fight with everything he had to bring his people to safety. No matter his pessimism.
"Hey, Bellamy!"
He heard Murphy call from a few yards away. Small groups would occasionally split off from the caravan to hunt and scout. Today himself, Clarke, Murphy and Miller had all ventured out to see what they could find or catch. Oh and Emori, who knew more about hunting than any of them it seemed.
"What is it?" Bellamy casually asked as he made his way to where Murphy stood.
"Looks like we'll be eating venison tonight. Guess she really is the 'Commander of Death.'"
“Shut up, Murphy,” Bellamy replied, annoyed. He came to stand beside Murphy and found him standing over a dead deer as Clarke knelt beside it, pulling out an arrow.
“Nice shot,” he said.
“Thanks,” She said distractedly, “We’ll need a way to carry it.”
“I’m on it,” Miller spoke up from behind Clarke and promptly left to go find the tools necessary.
“Where’s Emori?” Clarke asked Murphy as she stood.
“Gathering nuts and berries. Apparently she doesn’t trust us to know which ones to eat and which ones will kill us.”
“Or give us hallucinations,” Bellamy added without thinking. His eyes darted to Clarke who was looking at him. She bit her lip and gave a small shake of her head. They both were thinking the same thing; a memory from a time that felt so long ago now.
Clarke looked away and tucked a piece of her short, blonde hair behind her ear.
He still hadn’t commented on that….
The first day they had returned to Arkadia, Clarke had disappeared. He couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. Since Polis, there had been very few times she had not been within eye sight. He had been anxious then too....
When he had asked Abby if she knew where Clarke was, Abby gave him the dorm room number she was staying at, saying she should be there. Bellamy went to her room and knocked on the metal door. Twice. Called her name. Knocked again. Nothing.
Getting more and more worried, Bellamy reached for the door knob, surprised when he found it unlocked. He took a step inside the quiet room.
“Clarke?” he called out.
The bed was unmade and empty. Fear began to spread in his chest when he heard her voice.
“Bellamy?”
He spun around to find Clarke standing in the doorway to the bathroom, her short hair wet, with a faded cream towel wrapped around her body, drops of water still trickling down her very exposed skin.
Bellamy’s mouth went dry.
At least he had enough sense to look away once his brain registered what exactly he was gaping at.
“Clarke. S-sorry, I umm…..your mom said you'd would in here,” He stumbled over his words as he half turned his back to her.
“And here I am. It’s alright, Bellamy. What is it you needed?” She asked him.
The word NEED sent a shiver down Bellamy’s spine and not one born from fear. He swore seven times over to himself. He should have had more patience and waited at the door longer. He should have left the room immediately when he thought she wasn't there. And he definitely should not be consumed with the thought of tasting the drops of water that lingered on his friend's skin.
From the corner of his eye he peered at her.
Her expression was calm and unconcerned. But Bellamy noticed as her hand went to the towel on her chest, which was brimming over the fabric, torturing him. She fidgeted, adjusting the towel and a faint blush grew on her cheeks.
Dammit. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
“Nothing important. I’ll catch up with you later,” quickly, ungallantly and ungracefully, Bellamy left the room, closing the door behind him without another look in her beautifully blinding direction.
It was only later, when he thought back on the whole encounter, that he remembered seeing her short hair and the cut blonde locks that were lying on her bathroom floor.
Now, as he watched Clarke, standing in front of him, Bellamy realized that they had yet to discuss her hair-or that incident- since.
Miller returned with a cut branch and some rope to carry the deer. Murphy and Miller hauled it on their shoulders, as they made their way back to the caravan.
The group walked leisurely, keeping their eyes on the woods but also just trying to enjoy the freedom and the forest. Emori walked ahead, teasing and flirting with Murphy behind her as he and Miller carried the deer. Bellamy and Clarke brought up the rear, a bag of medicinal herbs she had collected over her shoulder, a rifle over his.
"How much longer, do you think, till we get there?" Clarke asked. She didn't need to specify which 'there' she was asking about. Not to him anyways.
"Raven said we have at least another 50 miles to go last time I checked with her," he said.
"That'll mean another 4 or 5 days," she said, almost as if to herself.
"Minimum. And not including any obstacles we might find along the way," even as he said it, Bellamy's grip on his rifle tightened, just a fraction.
The group approached a rope bridge that hung above a fast moving river, thankfully the same one that they had used on their way here. It was't easy navigating the dense woods and any extra time spent back tracking or getting lost could cost them. As they walked across, the bridge swayed and the wood creaked.
"We already have obstacles, Bellamy," Clarke said, "We don't have enough food, the people are exhausted, some of them are even getting sick and I just-"
"Clarke," Bellamy cut her off, stoping halfway down the bridge and turned to face her, wanting to ease at least some of her anxiety, "You're doing what you can, okay? Everyone's trying to do what they can."
Clarke looked up at Bellamy, listening to him, but there was still a crease in her forehead and worry in her eyes.
"Our best bet is to get everyone to the safe zone as quickly as possible," then he said softer, holding her gaze, trying to reassure her, "You know that."
Clarke looked away and moved to continue walking, ahead of him.
"Yeah, I know that, Bellamy, but that doesn't- AAAAAH!!"
A terrible crack came from below as Clarke's body fell through the bridge. Bellamy dropped onto the wooden boards as he grabbed Clarke's wrist, preventing her from plummeting into the river. The current lapped at her thighs, blood streaming down her arm from where the wood had seemingly cut her.
Their eyes locked. Clarke's eyes were wide with panic, Bellamy's narrow with strain and effort.
Neither looked away, for fear of losing sight of the other, for fear of seeing the peril below them. He heard feet running on the bridge, help coming. He nodded to Clarke.
"I've got you," barely loud enough for her to hear. He gripped her wrist tighter, if possible.
Clarke nodded in return, eyes still looking at him with fear but also faith.
That's why they didn't see it coming.
A large log careened down the river, too late did Clarke see the impending blow.
"Bellamy!" She cried out, just before the great trunk struck her body, ripping her hand from Bellamy's, pulling her down into the water. Her golden head did not resurface.
"CLARKE!" He screamed into the unforgiving river.
Bellamy jumped to his feet, ripping off his rifle and jacket.
"Bellamy, NO!" Miller yelled at him, knowing what he was thinking of doing, "Jumping into that river isn't going to save her!"
Bellamy glared at him, eyes like daggers.
"Well standing on this fucking bridge isn't going to either!"
Bellamy grabbed the bridge rope, about to throw himself over it when Murphy's hand grabbed his arm, hauling him back.
"Bellamy, STOP, you'll only get yourself killed!"
Bellamy violently threw off Murphy's grasp and sprinted to the edge of the bridge. There was swearing behind him, followed by the sound of boots following in pursuit. He came to the river's edge and kept running, eyes never leaving the water, eyes always searching for her blonde hair, her coat, her ANYTHING to come into view.
NO was all he could think. NO NO NO.
He kept running. Lungs burning, heart tearing and still he ran. He stumbled over sticks and rocks as he raced the river, he felt his jacket rip when it caught on a branch, he didn't give a damn.
The current beside him finally began to slow and the water soon became calm.
"THERE!" Bellamy spun around to see Miller pointing to something on the far side of the river.
His eyes flew to that direction, and found what Miller saw. He didn't hesitate.
Bellamy walked right into the still waters, swimming when his feet could no longer touch the bottom. When he reached the dark mass floating in the water, he knew it was her.
Bellamy grabbed her limp body, turning her to face him. His heart went cold at the sight of her blue, unmoving lips.
He wrapped his arm around her and vigorously swam towards land.
Miller, Murphy and Emori all pulled them up onto the grass.
Bellamy ignored their forlorn murmurs at the sight of Clarke's still body. He reached for her, immediately placing his fingers gently where her neck met chin, just like she had shown him, just like he had seen her do a dozen times.
Nothing.
"No," Bellamy whispered. He pulled open her soaking jacket and placed one hand on top of the other, just to the right of the centre of her chest, where her heart no longer beat.
"No," he repeated as he pressed down, again and again and again. Ignoring the lump in his throat, ignoring the blur of his eyes.
"No," like a mantra he recited. He moved to place his lips on her icy ones, breathing air into her lungs, breathing whatever life he had left into her.
"No," he lips whispered as they left hers.
Tears dropped onto his hands as he continued to thump on her chest.
"No."
Darkness was all that Clarke could think and feel. A black static that invaded every sense, just a vast inky nothingness. If she could think, she would be wondering where she was. If she could feel, she would be wondering why she was so cold.
But there was only darkness.
Then, like a picture on a screen, a memory played before her.
She was walking through a forest, starring up at a great towering tree when the world flew out beneath her. When the world stopped again, she was staring up at him, at Bellamy.
If she could smile she would have.
But the memory soon shifted. It was still Bellamy's soft, brown eyes starring down at her, still his strong outstretched hand holding her above the abyss. But the world around them transformed.
The sound of rushing water filled her ears, blood dripped down her arm where the metal bracelet once was, the voices yelling were not the same as before.
Then the picture blurred as a voice came to her in the darkness.
"No." Is all it said.
The picture slowly began to fade.
"No." Came the voice again.
In the dying image, Clarke could just make out Bellamy's face as her hand was ripped from his, as she sank back into the darkness.....
Brown, murky water gushed from Clarke's mouth as she heaved to the side. Bellamy smiled with incredible joy at the sight. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He held her steady and brushed her hair away from her face. A dry jacket was offered to him and when Clarke had expelled what seemed like the entire river from her lungs, he wrapped her in the fabric and pulled her into his lap.
He rested his cheek gently on her head. A cold hand came up to his chest.
"Bellamy?" Her broken, strained, voice called.
"Shhhhh, I'm here, I've got you," he told her and began gently rocking them back and forth, "You're okay, you're okay." He whispered to her. He was trembling and smiling and crying all at once.
She brought her cold hand to his neck, and pulled herself closer to him, burying her face in his chest.
He kissed her wet hair and held her tighter.
She was alive. He hadn't lost her.
That was all that mattered. They were still on this earth, they still had a chance at a future.
He wouldn't be alone.
He wouldn't have to face this alone.
For a long time, he sat by the river's edge, holding her, holding each other, rocking ever so slightly, knowing what they might've lost.
Knowing what today might have been........