Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it.
It's a quote he can't quite remember where from. But it rings true, now more than ever. His mother, his sister, Gina.
There's just one exception, and he wonders if she somehow managed to get through unscathed.
Clarke walked into his life the same way she walked out, with an unnerving ease. One day she was there and suddenly he couldn't imagine his life without her by his side. And too quickly he had to.
He's walked the empty ring everyday since they got back to the Ark, and with what's left of it, it doesn't take that long. He stops at nearly every window, briefly, fleetingly so as not to give off the impression that he cares that the earth is burning below. No one is around to see his disinterest, it's more of a show he puts on for himself. Like all the other masks he's donned before it. The earth doesn't look any different today but he can't stop his eyes from shifting. Imagining everything he'd come to call home burning away.
He was a child of the Ark just like the 100, just like all the sky people had been. But he'd never really gotten the chance to be a kid. He touches the walls as he passes, dragging his hands across the cool metal. For now it is his saviour, back then it was a prison.
The ground, that had been a dream brought to life. Even for just a few hours. Before the grounders attacked. Before he became something more than the guy he thought he was, the guy who was just doing what he had to protect his sister.
Shooting Jaha was the hardest choice he had made before reaching the ground. It had seemed like the only choice. Turns out to have been the first of many only choices. This never ending spiral downward into a person he barley even recognized.
Closing that spaceship door wasn't an easy choice. Everything in him pushed against it. It still did, even after all these months. But he barley even hesitated in the moment. He had been too busy worrying what Clarke would say to him. What she would want him to do. Think with your head Bellamy, that's the voice that comes to him at times like these. When the shame and the doubt become overbearing. She's there again, offering forgiveness he isn't quite sure he deserves.
But it's that moment, the moment he decided to let go that has him so wrapped up in himself. He thinks about it so often, bites his bottom lip until Murphy snaps him out of it over dinner with another one of his stories Bellamy isn't too convinced is true. He spaces out when Raven or Monty talk at him about numbers and equations and landing plans. Or silently sits there while Harper offers to cut his hair, and she hums a tune that sounds familiar. He watches on as Emori and Echo spill over textbooks, recognizing words, learning the names of the stars, and staring out of that window, beyond at the sky while his eyes fall back to earth, always back to earth.
He hadn't liked her at first either. She was spoiled and entitled, and he wasn't quite sure how to see beyond that image he had created for her. He still struggled with that, even back on the Ark. Trying so hard to let other people in. Trying to figure out that maybe he could be wrong about people; maybe he could be wrong about himself too.
She had had everything in life that he never had. And somehow, when they fell to earth they came out equal. He didn't see that right away. He tried so hard to hide his fear, all the pain that he carried with him. It took him too long to notice that look in her eyes, that darkness shinning in those blue eyes, was the same kind of pain mirroring his own.
Loss. Heartache. Self hatred. She had it too, they all did. But for so long she had to hide it away - when they all looked to her she was strong, she was resigned. A kind of strength and presence that Bellamy had never seemed to perfect no matter how much they listened to his speeches, or followed his orders. The other kids, they didn't see her the way he did. They didn't see her cracks, her tears, her quiet, familiar moments of fragility.
Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things. He told her that once. And here he is, still trying to survive after so long. Bellamy tries to remember who that person was, because he hasn't truly had the privilege to be who he is in years. Not since his mother was floated. He's not even sure who that person was anymore. He thinks about Clarke, who she would've been in other circumstances. It breaks him to think they wouldn't recognize each other. Maybe if he had waited, hadn't left her. Maybe he would've gotten the chance to know her, the real Clarke . To like her.
When he let her go, he let go of that possibility. And he isn't quite sure what's worse. How easy it was then, or how hard it is now.
Raven had said: It's now or never. He chose now. He chose life for his friends. He chose to condemn her, and maybe himself along with her. Because no matter how little sense it made, how irrational she would say he was, Bellamy felt trapped down there with her. That's how he imagined it in his nightmares. Finding her, holding her like he had done before. Tucking her into his chest and shielding her eyes from the blast so she wouldn't have to see it coming. So she wouldn't have to feel so alone.
Bellamy rounds a corner into the communications command. It's the first place he went that day, more than half a year ago, and it's always where he starts and ends this journey. Bringing himself in a circle that seems ironic, even to himself.
Today he finds Raven sitting there, fiddling with wires and mumbling to herself, quickly writing things down. He barely takes notice, the presence of the other 6 have become a constant reminder of where he was and what he did to get here.
They all did this, the first couple weeks, when life was hard and her loss was so new. They all felt the guilt; they all slowly forgave each other, and themselves. He didn't blame them for that. Bellamy knew the strength of forgiveness, even when you couldn't grant it to yourself.
They were still trying to survive after all. He should be making it back to the common room they'd all claimed as their shared space. He's promised to teach Emori about Augustus today - something so far from his mind, yet so close to his heart.
Bellamy,
He knows that voice. It's been almost a year but he could distinguish her calling his name in crowds of people, he's heard it through war cries and static-y radios. This was no different.
He turns from his place by the window. Raven's already staring up at him.
"Raven,"
"I know!" She's half way into a smile when a crease forms between her brow, "I heard it, but,"
She reaches for some wires and there's a quick flash. Sparks emitting from one of the panels.
He rushes over to the comm system as Raven steps back shielding her eyes. She joins him in a moment, "Just some fireworks, no extra damage. This ship's been through a lot."
"Clarke?" He manages to muster.
Raven stops fiddling for a moment, she doesn't meet his eye this time, "It sounded like her, but Bellamy,"
"I know," He lets it out in a tired breath, "please just tell me I can send something out."
So it's been I think seven months now, it had been almost 8, I lost consciousness for a while there, so you're going have to keep your smartass mouth shut if my numbers are off.
He laughs, and Raven whispers an 'oh my god'.
"Raven?" He turns to her again, reiterating his earlier question with just her name. Bellamy knows he puts too much on her at times. She's a genius but the fate of her friends on her shoulders all the time - he knows what that feels like - he can recognize the tiredness in her eyes.
"Look at this," She lifts up a bundle of wires, she's yelling over the static, "this place is a mess, half these boards are fried. It's a miracle we got anything at all."
He knows that. He knows that he could be losing his goddamn mind. And he also knows he left her. He left her for dead down there, and she's been alone this whole time; for the next 5 years. He knows all this; and while he may have let her go before, he also knows that it won't ever happen again. So despite the doubt, the guilt, he feels a sense of hope rise in him. A feeling he had been so scared he'd dreamt. And with that emotion, so fragile and passionate, reminding him of who he used to be standing at her side, he presses the comm button anyway,
"Clarke?"