So I recently rewatched the first few episodes of the 100 and I realized how much Octavia had changed throughout the show. And because I always wished Octavia and Clarke were closer, I decided to write this. :)
(Clarke's POV)
I was sitting by the fire when a hand rested on my shoulder from behind. I jumped and turned around, immediately trying to cover up the fact that he had made me jump.
"What do you want, Bellamy?" I asked. I was surprised at how harsh my voice sounded. I never even knew I could sound like that. But then again, being on the ground has taught me a lot of things about myself that I hadn't realized before. Some of which were better off hidden.
"Have you seen my sister?" he asked. He either didn't hear the harsh tone in my voice or chose to ignore it. Judging by his facial expression it was probably the latter. Then I realized what he was asking me. My head shot up to the place Octavia Blake had been sitting only five minutes ago. I sighed. Bellamy was so overprotective when it came to his little sister. They had a fight that afternoon when he refused to let her go out to explore with us. If he didn't hate me so much I'd have told him to back off. She needed some independence. I've been meaning to talk to Octavia since the day we witnessed Jasper being stabbed. I knew it shook her. It did that to all of us.
"I think she might have gone to have a rest. She's been looking after Jasper all day," I replied, my tone becoming friendlier.
"She should have told me where she was going!"
"Last time I saw you talking you were arguing. I don't think she'd come to you right now," I explained calmly. "She's a teenager, Bellamy. She wants you to trust her."
Bellamy sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
"Do you want me to talk to her?" I asked. He stayed quiet for a moment as if he was trying to think of other possibilities. But he realized that if he couldn't get through to his sister right now, maybe somebody else could. He nodded his head. I smiled and got up from the bench. It was a cold night but the sky was clear. Walking down the path to Octavia's tent I looked up at the stars. One of them was the Ark, drifting in space with no set destiny. On the Ark more than two thousand people were slowly dying of oxygen deprivation. It made me sad thinking about them. My people. But I also knew I couldn't save them. I could save others though. I could save the ones who were down here with me. I reached Octavia's tent and stopped. A dim light shone through the fabric. She wan't asleep.
"Hey, it's Clarke, can I come in?" I asked. I heard a muffled sound and then a high pitched voice:
"Sure."
I unzipped the tent and climbed inside, closing it again behind me. She was lying in her sleeping bag. When she didn't say anything I decided to speak:
"I just wanted to-"
"Check on me?" she said, not letting me finish.
"No," I replied, "make sure you were okay."
"I'm fine," she replied, looking up at me for the first time. Only then did I notice the dark patches under her emerald green eyes.
"Are you sleeping okay?" I asked her. She looked down at her knees, as if she was embarrassed to talk to me. "Octavia..." I said, beckoning her to speak. She shook her head slightly. I looked down at her hands. They were shaking. "Are you scared of something?" I asked. She looked up at me. Her beautiful eyes were filled with tears threatening to spill any second. I moved closer to her. Her breathing became uneven. "Hey, it's okay," I said, trying to soothe her. She rested her head on my shoulder as a few tears escaped from her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. "Do you want to talk about it?" I whispered, stroking her hair. "It might help, you know."
"Maybe later," she replied. I nodded.
"It's great to be brave. People look up to natural leaders. But there's no shame in letting yourself fall appart sometimes," I explained, hoping she would understand what I meant.
"That's being weak," she replied. I sighed. Obviously that was what she thought.
"No, honey. That's being human," I replied. "You'll understand soon enough."
I could feel the way her body clung to me that she was extremely tired. I lay her back down on her pillow and rested my head next to her. I continued to stroke her hair, remembering that that was the way my father would get me back to sleep when I woke up from a nightmare as a child. I looked at her. Her eyes were open and her tears hadn't stopped falling. I swallowed, desperate to get rid of the rising lump in my own throat.
"Close your eyes," I whispered, taking her hand in my free one. I could feel her body tense up. "They're just dreams." She looked up at me and nodded. "We'll talk about it tomorrow okay?" It wasn't really a question and I think she sensed it too.
"I'm scared," she said, her voice broken and raspy from crying.
"Shh..." I soothed her, squeezing her hand. "I'm here with you and I'll be here when you wake up."
"Thank you," she said. I reached out and wiped her wet cheeks. Finally calmer, Octavia closed her eyes. She started drifting off straight away, her breathing becoming regular again. Within two minutes she was fast asleep. I sighed sadly. She must have been so tired.