The 100 We will survive Chapter 1 - Bellamy
"I loved her," Clarke cried as she sat on the edge of Lexa's bed. "She's all I wanted, and I lost her," she sobbed.
"I know," whispered Abby as she held her daughter.
"No you don't understand," Clarke sobbed even harder.
Abby took Clarkes face in her hands. "I know it hurts," she said "I'm so sorry," at which she wrapped her arms around Clarke and let her release the pain that she had been holding in.
Clarke didn't break down often, and she had held in the core of her loss until she had a moment to finally let go.
Standing at the door was Bellamy. He witnessed it all, and he was ashamed to have. It wasn't intentional. He came to let the Griffin women know the stairs were cleared so they could finally descend the tower.
He walked in, just in time to hear Clarke's confession and her words were like punch in the gut. He wanted to back out, but his feet wouldn't move. A part of him wanted to take her in his arms and tell her it was okay, and another part knew it wasn't his place. He needed to let them know everyone was waiting, but he couldn't interrupt, not now, not after seeing the state Clarke was in. As quietly as he entered the room, he walked out.
"Where are they?" asked Marcus, looking past Bellamy's shoulders "Did you find them?''
Marcus couldn't hide the concerned look on his face.
"Yea, they're talking, I couldn't interrupt," Bellamy said softly.
"Is everything alright?' Marcus asked with the same questioning stare.
Bellamy wouldn't look him in the face. He kept his gaze down, as he tried to hide his disappointment. He shook it of quickly knowing he couldn't change anything so he focused on what he could do. He needed to get busy and start moving the wounded down the tower. He immediately turned and took control and began barking orders at the others.
Marcus grabbed Bellamy's shoulder stopping him momentarily. "Hey, are you alright?" he asked, knowing something was bothering Bellamy.
"I'm fine," Bellamy lied, "Let's get these people out of here," he said, and then he turned and pointed to Miller. "You get the front."
Miller and Bellamy lifted the stretcher carrying Bryan, and started making their way down the narrow stairs.
The task of getting everyone out was massive, and took most of the day.
Clarke and Abby finally came down a few hours into the evacuation. Clarke's face was blotched, her eyes, red rimmed, but she was focused on her task. She saw Bellamy each time he emerged with someone. She wanted to tell him to rest, seeing how tired he looked, but each time she saw him, someone called to her for help, and when then he was gone again back up the tower.
"We can't leave them there," Bellamy argued with Murphy.
"Look I helped, and I'm done," Murphy griped.
"What's going on?" asked Marcus when he walked up.
"He wants us to carry down all the bodies," Murphy said "I say leave 'em. We've done enough."
"Murphy's right," said Marcus.
Bellamy looked shocked at what Marcus was suggesting
"Look I don't mean to leave them," Marcus corrected himself "but we need to rest. We can recruit some more help in the morning."
Bellamy wanted none of it. He wanted to get it done, and get out of the city. He felt uneasy and knew the sooner the task was done the sooner they could get back to camp. But he nodded yes while still keeping his gaze down. The truth was, he was tired and felt like every bone in his body ached. He knew that if he stopped he wouldn't be able to get back up, and knowing what waited for him in the tower was unbearable.
Bellamy turned and scanned the room. Clarke, Abby and Jackson were busy in the makeshift hospital they had set up in the towers lobby, while Murphy, Emori and some of the others that had helped carry the wounded down were settling in along the back wall to finally rest.
Bellamy walked past them just as Clarke caught up to him. "Hey," she said as she reached for his arm, stopping him. "Are you okay?' she asked.
"Yea, I'm fine," he said as he forced a smile. "Are You okay?" he asked.
"Not really Bellamy," she said. "We have to let these people know, but how?" she said looking around with a frown.
"Let's focus on getting these people taken care of, then we'll figure it out," he said.
"You need to rest," she said concerned at his appearance. "You can't keep going like this Bellamy."
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," he said, "I just need make sure everyone's down," he said as he headed back up the stairs.
Clarke watched him as he turned and made his way back up, a little slower this time, like his legs were lead weights. She wished he would slow down and rest, but she knew him well enough to know, he would stop when he was ready.
Once Bellamy was back at the top, he checked to make sure everyone breathing had been evacuated. The throne room held an eerie silence. He looked around at the scattered bodies and focused in on one. The bile rose in his throat as he walked over and stood above Pikes body. So many emotions went through him. He shook it off and gathered his strength as he grabbed the ex-chancellors body and hoisted it over his shoulders. He struggled to get his balance but finally centered Pikes body so it was easier to maneuver.
Bellamy slowly made is way down the stairwell, each step a struggle, until he finally got to the bottom and lowered Pikes body onto the cold cement floor of the empty room. He didn't stop to dwell on the fact that Pikes blood spilled down the front of his jacket. He tried to push away the images of Octavia running her blade through Pikes body, with nothing more that disgust on her face. He tried to ignore the heaviness of his legs as he ascended the stair well, back up the tower. Each body he carried down seemed to be heavier than the last. There were only eight bodies in the throne room, and three were in the commander's chamber. It was the same room where he heard Clarke's confession of love for Lexa.
Bellamy waited to take Ontari's body last, only because of the horrific mess it was in. The black blood made it even worse, and although Bellamy wasn't the squeamish type, it still was a task he dreaded.
Looking over her body; still pulled apart at the breast bone, he looked around for something to wrap her up in. He didn't know her story; only that she was a killer, but then so was he. Still she was a girl, and he wanted to give her some sort of dignity and not have her body paraded around like a side show.
Bellamy yanked down a curtain from an adjoining room and laid Ontari's body carefully onto it, and then he carefully wrapped her up and fastened it with cording. He lifted her up and onto his shoulder, surprised that she seemed lighter than the others had been. Still he was struggling with the body, but he finally got her downstairs with the others he had piled into the makeshift morgue.
The only ones left inside were a few grounders that had been at the elevator wheel. That section was sealed off from the explosion they had set at the beginning of their battle to take out ALIE. He almost started to dig for them, but realized it was a futile task.
Bellamy was done, his body covered in blood, as if he had bathed in it. Everyone had slept through his work, and he was glad. It was something he needed to do, and he didn't want to hear them argue with him about it. Although he was exhausted, he knew he had to find a place to clean up.
Each floor had water pumps, and he knew the higher he climbed the harder he would have to work for water, so he stayed on the ground floor. The kitchens were in back and when he stepped inside he found Jackson.
He looked up, surprised to see anyone. He just nodded, then glanced around for the water pump.
Jackson was stunned at Bellamy's appearance. His eyes grew wide and his first thought was that Bellamy had been in a battle. He was covered in blood. "Bellamy, you're bleeding!" he said as he rushed over to the boy.
"No I'm fine," he said for the third time in 24 hours. But again he wasn't. He was spent. It took everything not to drop. His body was shaking, from exhaustion. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot. He trembled from hunger, and struggled with every movement. "Where's the blood from?" Jackson asked warily. He wondered if Bellamy had butchered someone.
Bellamy looked at him. He knew what Jackson was thinking. He didn't blame the man. He deserved to be watched, questioned, and not trusted.
"Don't worry. I just moved the bodies down from the tower. I need to cleanup," he mumbled.
"Pumps over there," Jackson said pointing towards the rear of the room.
Bellamy made his way to the back and cleaned began to clean up. He felt sick, as if he couldn't wash away the blood that stained his hands and arms. He looked into a reflective metal sheet on the wall and saw the reflection of a blood soaked monster staring back. The sight panicked him; not realizing blood covered his neck and face. He frantically began splashing at it, trying to clean the blood from the victims of ALIE's reign. The water ran red from his face. He felt sick to his stomach at the sight of it. He began to panic, thinking he couldn't get it off.
"Hey," she said as she walked up beside him. Clarke took his hands in hers. "Bellamy stop," she said. She could see his panic; his red tired eyes, his shaking weak body.
He stood there and looked down, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the pool of tears that threatened to spill and make him look weak. He turned his head away from her and pulled his arms back from hers. He instinctively wiped under his eyes with the back of his hand then hunched his shoulders and rested his hands on his hips, taking deep breaths.
"Bellamy," Clarke said "What's going on? Please talk to me."
Bellamy took another deep breath, and then he turned to face her. He had gathered his composure.
"I'm just tired, like everyone else. I need to clean up, and we don't have towels. I need to get done here so we can get our people back home, and I need to find Octavia," he said.
"We'll find your sister. I promise," Clarke said all the while knowing something was bothering Bellamy, and she wasn't sure what it was, but she was going to find out.