He was seated alone in the makeshift cafeteria, his thoughts bleak and full of self-recrimination, when Clarke appeared and took the seat across from him.
"You look haunted," she told Bellamy matter-of-factly, as she studied the bags beneath his eyes and the sallowness of his skin. "Here," she offered, passing him a beverage that looked like green goo, "Drink that. It's got all kinds of nutrients and vitamins in it."
Bellamy took the cup from her, his eyes finally focusing on Clarke's and he nodded before taking a sip of the liquid. He coughed and cringed, looking with disgust down at his cup before saying, "This tastes like shit. I'd rather drink muddy rainwater."
Clarke's eyes sparkled in response, a smile tugging at her lips. She shrugged and said casually, "How often is it that something good for you actually tastes decent?"
The cloud that had seemed to be hovering over Bellamy before Clarke had joined him appeared to be lifting. But Clarke's next words brought the dour expression back again.
"So what were you sitting here stewing about?"
"I was trying to figure out what I could have done differently that would have changed things," he answered sullenly.
"Bellamy - " Clarke started, a warning in her tone that told him she was about to argue that he'd done what he had to do, but he wasn't convinced of that.
"Don't," he interrupted more harshly than he'd intended.
"Bellamy," she said sternly, a stubbornness in her flinty stare that he knew meant she was determined to have her say. "What happened is NOT your fault. You couldn't have known what he was going to do."
"But if I'd gone instead, or if I'd sent Octavia with them, or sent her instead of Murphy, who knows how it would have turned out," he protested, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his conviction that he could have somehow kept Finn from completely losing himself while slaughtering peaceful villagers.
"Exactly," Clarke agreed, her voice rough with emotion, "We don't know how it would have turned out. If you'd gone, you could have been killed. Either by the grounders or in some kind of mess with Finn. Octavia probably would have killed Finn unless he got a chance to kill her first. You did the best you could, Bellamy. You couldn't have saved him. He was already lost."
A wary Finn approached the table, ignoring Bellamy entirely while gruffly declaring to Clarke, "We need to talk."
Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw Bellamy tense and she shook her head at him almost imperceptibly before focusing coldly on Finn.
In a firm, no-nonsense tone she said, "I said everything I needed to say when we talked earlier, Finn. I don't recognize you anymore. And I have no desire to get reacquainted."
Finn growled and clenched his fists, his eyes hardening with fury. He stood stock-still, motioning with his head toward Bellamy before saying, "I need a word, Clarke. Without him."
"I'm not going anywhere," Bellamy stated immediately, his words casual but his every muscle was coiled, ready for action.
It was easy to see the potentially violent turn this confrontation could take and Clarke wasn't about to allow it.
She leveled her gaze at Bellamy and told him evenly, "Give us a few minutes."
Bellamy's nostrils flared but he stood stiffly and took two steps around to Clarke's side of the table, bending over to speak softly, stubbornly, near her ear, "Fine. But I'm sending Murphy over. I'm not leaving you alone with him again."
Clarke met his eyes briefly and gave a curt nod of understanding.
Without another word, Bellamy walked away.
Triumphantly, Finn took the seat that was now vacant across from Clarke and demanded, "Why won't you talk to me? I told you how much I need you. How am I supposed to change, fix things, if you won't even talk to me?"
Murphy came over and silently joined them, taking the seat next to Clarke, leaning an elbow on the table while Clarke's mouth hung agape.
Having heard everything Finn had said as he'd neared them, Murphy spoke before Clarke was able to.
"You really think all you have to do is demand that she forgive you? Order her to be your savior and she'll do it, no questions asked? You know better than that, Finn. Clarke gives orders. She doesn't take 'em."
Finn glared coldly between Clarke and Murphy, then shoved the chair back and stormed off.
Turning to Murphy, Clarke gave him a grateful nod, saying softly, "Thank you," to which he responded with a slight nod of his own as he rose from the seat he'd taken and moved silently away.
A moment later, Raven was at the table, hands planted firmly on the flat surface as she leaned forward in a manner that could be interpreted as either urgent or menacing, possibly both.
"Clarke, I hate what he did as much as you do but he's lost right now. We can't abandon him when he needs us the most."
With a tired sigh, Clarke shook her head sadly. "There's nothing I can do for him, Raven. He made his bed. Now he has to lie in it."
Raven clutched the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white and her face paled at Clarke's words. "He's my family. My only family. There has to be something we can do."
"He's a danger to us all right now," Clarke stated, again shaking her head, this time as if she still didn't quite believe what she was saying, "We can't risk him losing control again. If it were up to me, he wouldn't be walking around free. He'd be in lock up for committing acts of war."
"War, Clarke?!" Raven exclaimed coldly, "Weren't we already at war?"
"NO," Clarke stated firmly, "We were on the verge of a compromise, an agreement to work together with the grounders against Mount Weather. Until Byrne's soldiers went and shot our only hope."
"Not our only hope," Raven responded, "Octavia's with the grounders even now, trying to repair the damages, finish what you started when you stayed to treat the wounded. Now she's our only hope."
"True," Clarke conceded. She glanced away for a moment, taking a few deep breaths while she pondered their options. "If you have any ideas on how we can reach Finn, I'm all ears. I haven't been able to come up with anything on my own."
Satisfied, Raven nodded and stood upright, readying to leave. "I'll think on it and get back to you."
Clarke nodded her agreement and watched Raven turn and limp away.
The next thing she knew, Bellamy had silently slid back into his seat and she found the tension easing out of her with a sigh.
"What are we going to do about him, Bellamy?"
Bellamy glanced over his shoulder toward the last place he'd seen Finn then turned back to Clarke and said grimly, "Whatever the hell we can."