1. hold me closer

4x03 — How I wish this scene had played out.

Rated K. (ratings vary with each chapter)

Bellamy Blake.

Clarke finishes writing his name next to the number 99.

She can't bring herself to write her own.

After all she's done, after everything she's lost, after the pain she's caused, how can she? How can she decide that her life means more than any of her people?

The logical part of her brain insists that she's needed. That her people need a leader to survive. But then her eyes flicker to the dark-haired boy asleep on the couch, and she knows they'd be okay without her.

But she can't do that to him again. She can't just hand off her burden when the guilt makes it too difficult to bear; not for a second time. She remembers the day he said the words that had cut into her so deeply:

Enough! Clarke, you are not in charge here. And that's a good thing, because people die when you're in charge.

He was right. No matter what she did, it felt like she'd never stop making fatal mistakes.

She was glad to have him back at her side, that was for sure. Her heart fills with warmth for him — for the man who risked everything for his sister, who never stopped looking out for his people, who was so forgiving that she was sure she didn't deserve it.

"Clarke."

His husky, freshly-awoken voice halts her train of thought and snaps her back into reality. Her eyes refocus, and she sees him sitting upright on the couch, hair tousled and shirt crinkled.

"Hey." Clarke smiles weakly, her tired eyes shifting back down to the dreaded piece of paper on her desk.

"Have you finished the list?" His voice is gentle, his head slightly tilted and his dark eyes shine with empathy.

Clarke's already small smile falls, too exhausted to put up any sort of façade. She doesn't answer his question, but instead places her elbows on the desk and rests her face in her hands, exhaling slowly. After a minute, she feels his hand gently rub her shoulder.

In that moment, she's so grateful for the small gesture of reassurance and so worn out by the pressure of choosing who lives and who dies that she shoots up out of her chair and buries her face in Bellamy's chest. His arms instantly wrap around Clarke, gripping her tightly without hesitation.

"If I'm on that list, you're on that list."

He says softly, his chin resting on her head.

Clarke closes her eyes and lets the tears run down her cheeks. God, she hates crying.

"I don't know if I can do this again," Her voice trembles, and she bites her lower lip to stop her from breaking down completely. She doesn't bother explaining what "this" she's referring to; he already knows.

He pulls away and grips her shoulders, his head tilting down so his deep brown eyes can meet her pair of big blues. She begs herself not to sob.

"We do what we have to do, Clarke. You can't blame yourself for all the things we've done to survive."

"All I ever do is make things worse, Bell." Her resolve weakens, and her voice becomes dangerously shaky.

"Listen to me. We live in a shitty world, okay? You're doing the best you can with the cards you've been dealt. You can't save everyone, but if anyone is going to come close... it's you, princess."

Clarke closes her eyes and breathes out through her lips, her emotions stabilizing.

"Your name has to be on that list. Write it down, or I will."

He's right. She is trying her best. And now, she'll just have to hope that it's enough.

Bellamy's hands fall to his sides, and her shoulders suddenly feel cold.

"Thank you, Bellamy." She manages a genuine smile of gratitude.

"You can thank me by writing down 'Clarke Griffin' on there." His head tilts down, motioning to the paper resting ominously on her desk.

Clarke leans over, grabs a pen, and quickly scribbles her name before she can talk herself out of it. She steps back from the desk, hastily distancing herself from yet another reminder that her people might have to suffer another earth-shattering loss.

"When's the last time you got some sleep?" Bellamy nudges her, raising his eyebrows.

She lets out a breath. "Too long ago."

"Come on, I'll walk you to your room."

Clarke nods and gives him a small smile.

After a mainly silent walk back to her quarters (where her mind can't stop wandering to that damn list), Clarke stops in her open doorway and turns to face him.

"Thank you, Bell."

"For what?"

"For everything, I guess." For everything you do for me. I don't deserve it... or you.

She averts her eyes, choosing to look at the cot in her living room rather than meet his perpetually intense gaze.

How does she convey exactly how much of a relief it is to have him with her on this unbelievably difficult climb? If Clarke tried explaining that, they'd be standing in her doorway for hours. Hell, it'd take an eternity just to thank him for all the times he's saved her life.

"You know, as much as I enjoy saving your ass all the time, you've saved me, too."

There he goes again, reading her mind.

"You don't owe me any thanks, princess. We look out for each other down here. Especially royalty."

Clarke looks up at him again, his playful tone making her smile. But as reassuring and perfect as his words are, nothing can ever wipe away the lingering guilt that accompanies every decision she's ever had to make.

"Get some sleep, okay?"

She blinks a few times, then processes his words. Her slightly wide eyes convey a thought she's sure Bellamy can understand: I don't want to be alone.

"You can come in," She says softly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She nods. "I don't want to be by myself right now."

"Okay," He answers.

This has happened before; after ALIE. After Mount Weather. After she closed the dropship door.

When the weight becomes too much to bear and nightmares keep her from sleeping, she asks him for help. Back at the dropship (after that fateful day trip where she'd first seen his true self), she'd take the bedroll next to Bellamy's and fall asleep while he was sharpening spears for hunting. After Mount Weather and ALIE, she'd come into his quarters and crash on his couch while he listened to the patrol radios.

Maybe it's because they understand each other and what they've been through, but for some reason each other's presence is often the only thing that seems to appease both of their demons, at least long enough for them to rest.

It doesn't even take Clarke ten minutes to fall asleep on her couch, head rested comfortably on Bellamy's shoulder, who can't resist a small smile, even while half-asleep himself.