Author's Note: I normally write for Criminal Minds, but I've recently gotten into this show. And oh my gosh, I love it so much. It's been ages since I've written anything. I am not sure how this turned out. I hope to write lots of 'The 100' in the future!

Warning: Major character death.

Disclaimer: I do not own 'The 100' or any of its characters, no matter how much I wish I did.

He'd expected pain. Perhaps it was adrenaline, or shock, but when the knife entered him...

The mountain man pulled it out, and he felt a sick feeling spread through him. He struggled to not throw up. The screams of pain. The fighting. His people. They weren't giving up.

He didn't know how he did it, but somehow he managed to take the mountain man by surprised and Bellamy plunged the knife into his heart. He'd underestimated him. Being stabbed didn't put him out of commission entirely. But now he wavered. It was hard to remain standing.

She saw him now. The way her eyes widened, and the way her mouth fell... He could see it. She loved him, too.

Suddenly, Clarke was running towards him, and he was falling.

He remembered the first time he saw her. He'd thought her to be a privileged brat. Oh, how times had changed.

"Bellamy." She was beside him, her eyes examining him frantically.

The screams. "Clarke. Our people. They need you." It'd never been so hard to speak.

"I need you," she replied pushing down on his wound in a useless attempt to stop the bleeding.

He could see the tears in her eyes, and it was enough to break the brave front he was making an effort to put on.

"Take care of them," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Take care of O."

"Of course I will," Clarke told him, "But you'll be right there helping me."

He smiled. Typical Clarke. Tears filled his own eyes.

"Tell O," his voice broke off. "Tell her I was brave, okay? Tell her I was brave right until the end." He couldn't explain why, but it was important that his sister believed him to be brave. Even, if at the end, he was scared. Not of dying, but he was scared of leaving his people. His sister. Clarke.

"You are brave, Bellamy."

He couldn't answer her. Anything he said was going to prove her wrong.

"You know what we're going to do when we win this war, Bellamy?" she asked, her eyes not leaving his face.

"What?" The pain he hadn't felt earlier, he felt it now. Clenching his teeth slightly, he closed his eyes.

"Whatever the hell we want."

A small laugh escaped him. He opened his eyes. "Clarke-"

"No, don't tell me something you wouldn't say if you weren't convinced you were dying," she cut him off.

"I love you."

Whatever she'd expected him to say, it hadn't been that.

"No, don't do that. Don't you say good bye," she demanded, but no matter how firm she tried to sound, her voice trembled. "I can't lose you, too. Not... Not after everything. Bellamy, please." Her words came out in short bursts as she began to hyperventilate.

The paleness of his face, the fact that the blood was still pouring out no matter how hard she pushed... He was running out of time and she knew it. She couldn't miss her chance.

"I love you, too," she blurted out.

"No good byes, huh?" he managed to get out. His lips turned up in a smile as he closed his eyes, again.

"You can't just ignore it when someone tells you they love you," she told him. Her voice was more steady now.

"No, I suppose you can't." He watched her expression, the way her tears fell. He wanted to remember her face. For as long as he could. Despite the abundance of blood throughout her hair, on her face, he couldn't see her as anything but beautiful. And he closed his eyes, but still, all he could see was Clarke's face.

"Bellamy, wake up." No response. "Bellamy Blake. You wake up this instant!"

"Clarke." Jasper was beside her now, and as he crouched down to move her hands, she shook her head. She hadn't noticed until then, but the fighting had stopped in this room. Only her people remained. But she could hear an explosion in the distance. This battle was not done.

"No. No. I have to keep the pressure on."

The look in his eyes said it all. But still, he voiced it. "You don't have to do anything for him any more, Clarke. You can't."

"No!" the voice echoed in her head, the painful scream. Someone was in pain. Was that her voice? No. She turned her head. Octavia Blake stood in the doorway. It'd been her voice.

Now it was Octavia running towards him, and Clarke pulled her hands off him. She began rocking in the spot, her breaths coming out uneven.

Love is weakness.

His face burned her mind. That cocky smile of his. The feeling of comfort, and safety she felt when he'd embraced her. The happiness she'd felt to see him after everything. He'd told her he loved her...

Love is weakness.

No. Lexa was wrong. Lexa was a fool. Love was strength. Love was empowering. It was true. It would be easier to not feel, to not care. She certainly wouldn't feel what she felt now. Like she was dying. But what would life be then? Without love? How could there be happiness? And if there was no happiness, what would be the point? As she saw him on the ground, his sister clinging to his dead body, she felt stronger. Determined. Her breathing returned to normal, and she got to her feet without a word.

She'd lost Bellamy. She'd lost the man she loved. They took him from her. And he was the last thing they'd take from her. She'd lost Bellamy, but she was not going to lose the war.