Octavia felt her jaw drop a tiny bit as she looked back and forth between Clarke and Bellamy. She kept waiting for something, for Clarke to say she was kidding, that of course she wouldn't risk Bellamy's life on the off chance that he could do something. For Bellamy to put his foot down, to say he wasn't going, that he wouldn't, that he couldn't leave.
She waited for Raven to pinch her so she could wake up and realize that it was just a dream, a horrible dream, that it wasn't actually happening, that her brother wasn't being sent off to his death by Clarke, who was the only one besides her who could make Bellamy risk something so massive, so important. It wasn't real. It wasn't.
But none of that happened. She didn't see Clarke open her mouth to take it back, she didn't see Bellamy shout out that there was no way in hell he was going to go along with a plan so stupid, she didn't see Raven reach out and pinch her.
All she saw was the dip in Bellamy's head, the drop in his jaw when Clarke's words registered in his head. She saw his tiny step back at her words, as if he could outrun what she was saying if he only got a head start, as if physically dodging her sentence would make it go away.
She saw him nod, his eyes down to the ground.
She saw him hide away in himself, like he always did. And she saw Clarke take the out she offered him, and slip away tossing a "Good luck," over her shoulder as he stared down at his feet.
She couldn't talk Lincoln out of it. She knew she wouldn't be able to. The shadow hanging over him wouldn't go away until he made it. And she understood, she did.
But there was no shadow hanging over her brother. He wasn't fighting his own demons. He was fighting Clarke's.
She got up from her place next to Lincoln and walked over to him. He was facing away from her, watching the grounder camp.
"Bell," she said, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around. "This is a stupid plan."
He let out a slow breath, looking at the ground again. Hiding, she reminded herself. "O—"
"No," she interrupted. "No! You'll die," she spat. He brought his eyes to hers. "You know that. You'll go into that mountain and you won't come out."
He shook his head. "I have to do this, O."
"There's. Another. Way."
He just shook his head again.
Her brother, the man who had made every impossible choice for her entire life, who made them all to protect the people he loved, to protect her and her mother. To protect their friends. To protect Clarke. He was throwing it all away, because he was too scared to admit that he didn't follow Clarke's orders just because she was a good leader.
"This is a mistake," she said. He reached out to her, tried to pull her into him but she slipped out of his grip. She shook her head. "This is a mistake, and I'm not going to let it happen."
"Clarke!" she shouted, chasing after her, brushing past where Abby stood. Clarke stopped and turned to her, her face hard but weary. Worn down. Tired.
"Octavia, I know what you're going to say, but the decision has been made," Clarke said.
"The decision has been made?" Octavia spat. "It's a terrible decision! You're asking Bellamy to die, Clarke. You know that."
Clarke shook her head. "We don't know that. Bellamy is right, I made it out. He can make it in. He's strong, Octavia. He can take care of himself."
Octavia huffed out a laugh. "That's the only thing in this world my big brother doesn't know how to do. He's never taken care of himself, Clarke. He's always taking care of someone else."
Clarke looked over her shoulder, back at the fire. Bellamy was crouching down next to it, shoving supplies in his pack.
"They're his people, Octavia."
"He's not doing it for them," Octavia yelled. "He's doing it for you."
Clarke looked away. Down to her feet. She and Bellamy shared the little habit of looking down when they didn't want to confront something.
"Octavia—"
"It's not. Worth. The risk," she countered. "You think he would risk your life like this? You think he would ever ask you to die for the greater good?"
"Bellamy made this plan long before I agreed to it."
Clarke looked back up with her, her eyes stony. It wasn't the woman Octavia knew. She didn't recognize this Clarke. The Clarke she knew had taken care of her people, had taken care of Bellamy. She'd never willingly risked one of their lives in the off chance it might help them out. She'd run weaponless into a battle zone to look for Bellamy, to get him into the dropship. She'd smashed a window and cut her own arm, taken a hostage to find Monty. She'd killed Finn herself to avoid causing him anymore pain. She drank what could have been poison to protect Raven.
This wasn't Clarke.
"If anything happens to him," Octavia grabbed her arm and pulled Clarke to her so that she couldn't look away. "That's on you." She let go and took a step back. "You might be in charge here Clarke, but he's my brother. And you have no idea what that means."