Bellamy sat alone on the lab floor, the radio in his hand, his head against the counter behind him. Raven had left him alone long ago, but still he sat in silence. He turned the radio on and off, flipped it over in his hand, ran his fingers through his hair and just stared at the darn thing.
He wanted to speak. Oh, he so desperately wanted to just speak into the microphone. He wanted to call down to earth, to the earth he knew was scorched and empty, and just speak.
But he knew that as soon as he spoke, and released that button, he would be met with silence. A deafening silence that would crush his only hope, confirm his worst fear.
That Clarke really was dead.
As the lonely days on the spaceship wore on, Bellamy's mind began to churn over the possibilities of his other half surviving Priamfiya. The Nightblood didn't work the first time, but wasn't it the same way with Luna? Maybe all she had to do was hide for a few months and adjust. She was a survivor, and if there was anything in her blood that would keep her alive, it would work. It would work for her.
Bellamy chanted this to himself as he lifted the radio to his mouth.
"Hello," his voice cracked on the first syllable. He paused, cleared his throat, and began again, his eyes shut. "This is Bellamy Blake, radioing from the Arcadia Ring. It has been 93 days since Priamfiya, on earth. Me and my companions are alive and well, up here." Here, he stopped again. This was it. There was no turning back now. "Can anyone hear me?"
The silence made the tear in his heart grow larger.
Even as he sat, his chest heaving, his head limp against the side of the table, and the lone few tears rolling down his cheeks, he realized something. Clarke may be dead, she may not be. She probably couldn't hear him, if she could still hear anything at all, but he didn't want to stop.
The silence made him want to try again.
"Clarke, I know if anyone's out there, it's you, and I..." He pulled the radio away from his mouth and took a deep breath. Unsure of where to even begin, he started from the beginning.
"Oh, God, Clarke, I'm so sorry," The tears began again. "I never wanted to abandon you, no one did. I knew I shouldn't have let you go to that tower alone, but I did, and now you're gone, and I'm so sorry."
Bellamy stopped himself, burying his face in his palms. He blamed himself for Clarke's death, as he believed he rightly should. He should have been the one to go to that stupid tower in the first place, or at least go with her. Echo couldv'e helped Murphy rescue Monty instead of wasting her precious time in a pointless, selfish suicidal ritual that Bellamy ultimately stopped. Sometimes, he still regretted it.
How could the universe be cruel enough to have Bellamy save Echo, and not Clarke?
"We made it, thanks to you, Clarke," he muttered into the radio. "93 days we've been up here. Echo and Emori have had a hard time adjusting, but they'll be okay."
Bellamy paused again and considered his surroundings. Raven. Raven was Clarke's friend too.
"Raven, is, well, Raven. She's amazing. You should see her, Clarke. She's back to her normal self. Like the version of Raven that first came down in the drop ship." Bellamy let himself let out a small laugh at the memory. "I know you didn't like that version very much."
"Monty and Murphy are doing okay, as is Harper. They've all got each other, you know? Even Echo and Emori, in all of their Grounder habits, have become quite the pair. Raven seems content to her robots and machinery, though she's still close to Murphy and Harper. She seems to think they're her little minions to boss around sometimes." Another sad laugh.
Bellamy imagined Clarke's laugh, for just a split second. He saw her, in the campfire light, back in the era of 'Princess' and 'Whatever the hell we want'. He saw her lips parted, her head tilted back, her golden hair shimmering way too perfectly for a girl who lived on a planet without showers. He could almost hear the song of simple laughter escaping her lips, and he wanted to hold on to that. God, he just wanted that back.
"I'm... Well, to be honest, Clarke, I don't really know how I'm doing," he lied, rubbing the back of his neck. He knew exactly how well he was faring in space. "I help where I can. You know I'm not the smartest or most technologically advanced mind around here. I'm great when it comes to the brute work and heavy lifting, though."
He paused and searched his next words carefully.
"In all honesty, I just miss you. You once said I needed to use my brain more, because one day you wouldn't be there to use it for me. I remember how wrong I thought you were- how wrong I knew you were. And here we are." A sad sigh escaped his lips and he looked at the radio, blurry now from the tears in his eyes.
"Clarke, I don't know if I even have a head when you're not around. I'm sorry your lecture didn't help with that," His sad laugh made him just sadder, wishing for so many things. So many impossible things.
The radio went silent. He held it delicately and stared at it, as if he believed hard enough, her voice would come crackling through any second. It would be just like the moment in Mount Weather, all that time ago. He replayed her voice saying his name in his head over and over again, until he almost believed he'd actually heard it echoing out of the speakers.
Bellamy lost track of time. He didn't know how long he'd sat there- seconds, minutes, maybe hours. The silence became deafening all over again, and he pressed down on the speaker button one last time.
"I'll talk to you tomorrow, Clarke."
