Chapter four

Bellamy is in a cage. His fingers are clinging to the metal, and he's using all his force to try to free himself. There is a girl staring at him in the cage beside his own. She doesn't say anything to him, but her eyes follow every movement he makes.

When a few people walk into the lab, they come directly for Bellamy, unlocking the cage and yanking him out. To his own horror, Bellamy can't do anything. He feels lethargic and unsteady, hands practically glued to his sides as the doctors start to strap something to his feet.

All he wants to do is scream out for help. He needs Octavia, his mother, Clarke, Finn. Anyone really. Before he even knows it, he's strung up by his feet, his fingers just barely touching the ground. The needles prick into his neck and Bellamy can see the thick tube that is going red with his own blood.

Bellamy tries to thrash around, but he finds himself completely unable to do anything but hang there and feel the way his blood is taken out of his body. He feels like crying as he just wishes there was somebody to help him. He'd take anyone.

Just as he's thinking it, someone enters the room. Although Bellamy's vision is clouded, eyes heavy with exhaustion, he instantly recognizes the young boy. He's got on a backpack and a blue button-up shirt, and Bellamy wants to amend himself when he thought he wanted anyone to help him. Anyone but this kid with his backpacked labeled with the name "Lovejoy".

The boy stares at Bellamy for a few moments, face red and blotchy, and Bellamy knows it's because of radiation. Finally he asks, "Where is my dad?"

Just behind Bellamy, he can make out the fuzzy shape of a body. Bellamy knows exactly whose it is. Trying to open his mouth to apologize, nothing comes out. He can't say anything. If his tongue could work, Bellamy would try to explain to him why he had to do it, but nothing is working.

"Where is my dad?" he asks again, voice sounding like it's echoing through the room. He's crying now, fat tears rolling down his face.

Bellamy still can't say anything, and then the kid starts to walk closer and Bellamy is certain this is where he's going to die, but then he doesn't.

He's jolted awake, face sweaty and heart beating rapidly. His neck is sore, too. At first, he's not even entirely sure where he is. He sits up, eyes still heavy as he rolls his shoulders and gingerly touches his neck. Before he can deduce it's just because of the way he was sleeping, he jolts into realization that he's at Mount Weather. The weight of the situation falls back onto him.

As he tries to forget about the dream, he looks to the couch across from him for Clarke.

The blankets are puffed up, and Bellamy thinks Clarke is still there sleeping, but when he steps closer, he realizes there is no body. Alarmed, he swiftly turns to the door to find the barricade gone but the door securely shut.

"Fuck," Bellamy sighs out, snatching his gun off the coffee table and scooping up his backpack.

The halls are just as quiet as before, and Bellamy can hear the echo of each rushed step. Nearly panicking, Bellamy starts to sprint, legs on fire as he heads towards the one place he hopes Clarke will be. He finds the door to the outside still ajar, a light breeze hitting Bellamy before he's nearly blinded with the brightness of the afternoon.

Right outside the door, Clarke is on the ground cross-legged. Bellamy keeps one hand on the door as he drops his shoulders and breathes out a sigh of relief, his heart still beating rapidly.

Clarke realizes she's not alone and stands up. Facing Bellamy, she goes, "Ready to leave?"

It takes a minute of shock, but Bellamy finally nods. "Yeah, I just need to get some stuff," he tells her. "I saw some whisky yesterday. Thought Jasper might want it."

With a curt nod, Clarke follows him back into the bunker and Bellamy heads toward where he saw the small, rectangular bottle, but make a point to also stop by the storage room to grab a few of the books he noticed the other day, as well. Clarke watches curiously for a moment before her eyes scan all the paintings that are on the walls and piled on shelves.

"Do you think they'll take them back to camp?" Clarke asks, fingers dragging down one of the paintings. She appears to be admiring it, and it's then that Bellamy remembers she likes drawing.

"I'm not sure," Bellamy mutters, grabbing a few different paperback books by random that aren't too thick. "I think I saw some pencils in here. Wanna grab some?"

Clarke looks up to him from the painting, eyes still vulnerable and too easy read, so much unlike how they usually are. Bellamy only saw a flicker of the hard Clarke, the one who can mercilessly shoot people to save her friends, when they thought there weren't alone in the bunker, but now she's back to being small. He's almost positive that Clarke doesn't like people to see this side of her, especially when usually everyone needs someone who is strong when everything is falling apart. But Bellamy is allowed to see her like this.

"I'm fine," Clarke says. "But I was thinking I want to stop at the dropship."

Bellamy doesn't particularly like the idea, and is worried she might just be trying to prolong the inevitable even longer, but he nods, knowing that it will be fine. Bellamy hasn't been there in what felt like forever, but he figures one quick trip can't hurt.

He wants to ask Clarke why exactly she wants to stop there. They would only find a similar scene to the one they found here. More death because of their own actions. But Bellamy has to tell himself that those actions were the reason he and the people he loved were alive. It doesn't stop the pain he feels in his chest, though.

As Clarke heads for the door, Bellamy grabs a few pencils he sees lying around and stashes them in his bag. She'll want them eventually, he figures.

The walk to the dropship is quiet. The woods are mostly empty, save for a few animals that are wandering around and make Bellamy whirl around, gun at the ready only to find a small rabbit. The relief of finding that instead of a grounder is overwhelming, though.

Eventually, just before nightfall, they arrive at the dropship. As Bellamy had expected, there are still bones covering the grass, and he almost steps on a skull as he walks towards the dropship. These deaths, though, don't make Bellamy ache as much the ones at the bunker. These were soldier deaths, they signed up for this, but the people that died at Mount Weather never signed up for anything.

"Lexa was never going to forgive me for this," Clarke says, the toe of her shoe just barley touching a skull that was cracked in half.

Bellamy hates thinking about the grounders. Now that the alliance is broken, he knows that more trouble will be waiting for them once they got back to Camp Jaha. For now, he's happy to have these calm moments alone with Clarke. Bellamy thinks that this trip hasn't only helped Clarke, but also himself.

"Why does everyone have to die?" Clarke asks, voice despondent as he looks on to the graves outside the half-broken gates. "I don't want for someone else I love to die."

Bellamy knows she's thinking of Wells, and probably Finn, and maybe even her father. He struggles to come up with something to say to her that won't sound unsympathetic. People die, though, and mostly unfairly, and Bellamy has seen it his entire life, starting the day he watched his mother get floated.

"I don't want you to die."

This catches Bellamy off guard. He looks to up to Clarke's eyes, her own staring deeply at Bellamy. It sounds like a confession, but Clarke is confidently staring back. Bellamy doesn't want to misconstrue this information, so he carefully replies, "I don't want you to die, either. And that's why I wanted you back home."

Clarke smiles a little, and Bellamy can't help but to grin back. With a few strides, Clarke is wrapping her arms around Bellamy with a tight grip. He instantly hugs back, one of his hands holding the back of her head as she leans into him. Her hair is soft under his fingers, and the harsh pain that's nearly always lingering in his chest is softened.

When she pulls back a little, to look at Bellamy's face with bright eyes, he's not expecting the way she leans in and kisses him. It takes a few beats for him to even kiss back, but once he does, everything seems to click into place.

The feeling of his brain that's constantly thinking too hard about every little thing clicking off as he kisses Clarke is seems almost too good to be true. But he doesn't have to think about what comes next for them when he carefully nips at Clarke's bottom lip.

They pull back for air, though, and Clarke is smiling, and Bellamy knows he's probably grinning like an idiot. She looks like she's about to say something sweet, but then in the span of milliseconds, her face contorts into fear and she shouts, "Bellamy!"

Confused, he starts to turn around where her eyes are looking past him, but before he can figured anything out, he feels a sharp pain on the back of his head and then everything goes black.