Bellamy

Waking with a terrible jolt, Bellamy let out a long, shaky breath, trying to banish the horrible visions of what he'd just been dreaming about- death and destruction, all the suffering that had happened at his hands.

"Hold still," Clarke's gentle voice came from next to him, and he did, letting her slide the needle into his neck. He felt her fingers, cool against his pulse, felt the Red flood through his veins, and he drew in deep, shaky breaths, trying not to let it show just how good it felt to get that drug.

"Does it hurt?" she asked softly, misinterpreting his reaction.

Very slightly, he shook his head. "No, it's fine."

When she withdrew the injector it took all his strength not to break the ropes on his wrists and grab it, force her to empty the whole syringe. The cravings were overwhelming, and even at a partial dose he felt dizzy with bliss for a few minutes, though it sickened him to feel how much control it had over him.

After a little while Clarke drew her hand back, seeming satisfied with his pulse, and she returned to the horses, tucking the injector away in one of the saddlebags. Lia watched their supply of Red like a hawk, even sleeping with it, so he knew she knew what it did to him. Oddly, her security was comforting.

He looked up at the sky- it was barely dawn, still dark. Belatedly, he felt Octavia's body curled along his side, her head tucked into his shoulder, heard her soft breaths of sleep. He frowned at Clarke.

"I couldn't stop her," she said, pre-empting his complaint as she returned to his side, shaking her head. "Believe me, I tried."

"Please, just… don't let me do anything to her," he said urgently. "Or you. I couldn't live with myself. It's bad enough-" He broke off, deliberating trying to banish Echo's face from his mind's eye. The worst part was the memories tied in with her death- the pleasure he'd took in her blood flowing, hot and sticky, into his mouth and down over his chin, the uncaring way he'd slaughtered a person who had grown to mean something to him. Bellamy shook his head, trying to force all of it from his mind.

"Hey," Clarke said gently. "Don't worry… I'm monitoring you closely. As long as we keep dosing you regularly, you should be fine."

He looked into her eyes, and the trepidation he saw there tore at his already bruised heart. "I don't want you to be afraid of me," he said softly, cringing, lowering his eyes to the ground.

There was a pause and then Clarke dropped to her knees in front of him and he felt her hand on his shoulder. He had no choice but to look at her, and then she said, "We're going to get through this, Bellamy… I promise. We're almost home. And you're the only reason any of us are still alive."

He could see that she meant it, and the relief that he felt overwhelmed him for a moment. Then it turned into fear as she started untying the ropes at his feet. "Hey, don't do that," he urged her, trying to pull away, but she'd already loosened the knots and they slid off his ankles, freeing him.

"Don't worry," she assured him gently. "I'll leave your hands tied, okay? I just want to take you to the hot springs and get you cleaned up."

He smiled at her, liking that idea in spite of the worry he felt that he might suddenly go insane and hurt her. If that happened, would he feel it coming? How fast would he snap? He remembered how it had felt to watch Lincoln choose the Red over him, leaving him at the mercy of the mountain, and at that time, Lincoln hadn't even really been a friend yet. He swore to himself that he'd die before he'd betray Clarke the same way, but he was also acutely aware of how incredibly strong the drug's influence really was. When it came right down to it, was he strong enough to fight it? Even for her, or for Octavia?

"Come on," she said, smiling, grabbing him by the arm and hauling him to his feet. He was scared, but somehow her confidence lessened it just a little.

Bellamy hesitated, looking down at Octavia, surprised their voices and movements hadn't woken her, realising just how tired she must have been. He glanced over at Lia next and said, "We shouldn't leave them alone together."

"Lia risked a lot to help us," Clarke said. "She won't hurt Octavia." The 'again' hung unspoken in the air between them.

A small smile played at Bellamy's lips. "I was more worried about O attacking her."

With a soft laugh, Clarke tugged on his arm and he allowed her to lead him through the dense trees a short way, until they arrived at the hot springs. It didn't really look like much, just a steamy dip in the earth, but it was big enough and deep enough, and the hot water looked extremely inviting.

"I'm going to have to take these off after all," Clarke said, touching his wrists. Before he could protest she had untied the ropes and let them fall to the ground, and then she said, "Take off your clothes."

"You don't have to ask me twice," he teased her, and he enjoyed the redness that rose into her cheeks before she rolled her eyes, gave him a shove, and stepped back a little. Anything to lighten the mood. He peeled off his clothes, getting down to just his underwear, and then turned to step into the hot water, hardly believing how good it felt as he sank in up to his chin.

"Careful you don't put your head under," Clarke warned him, turning back around to face him again. "I remember reading on the Ark that some hot springs have amoebas that can get into your brain through your ear canal."

"Wow, that's… comforting," he said dryly, but made sure not to submerge his whole head, though up till then he'd really wanted to.

Clarke sat down on a rock at the edge of the pool and pulled a clean cloth out of her pocket, handing it over. "Clean up," she said. "You'll feel better."

Bellamy smiled and took the cloth, dipping it in the water and starting to wash up. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon, and he watched the way the rays caught in Clarke's hair. He found himself battling an intense desire to splash her, but he knew it would be inappropriate.

His humour faded abruptly as he glanced down at the water and saw a red hue quickly spreading throughout the pool. His jaw tightened and he couldn't help but think of all the Grounders they'd brought to him in his cell, how he'd killed each one without any thought of their lives, only the drug he was given as a reward. He couldn't help but think of Echo, how she'd saved his life over and over, and he hadn't given a second thought to sinking his teeth into her throat.

Bellamy felt a sudden ache in his chest and a lump rose up in his throat so fast that he was already choking on it as the tears started. He just hung his head and wept silently, hoping Clarke wouldn't notice.

But of course she noticed right away, and she seemed alarmed at his sudden change in mood as she said, "What is it?"

He just shook his head, crying silent tears as he covered his face with his hands, hating that she was looking at him, looking at the water, the blood of all those innocent people he'd killed.

He was surprised by a sudden displacement of water as she slipped into the hot spring next to him. It wasn't a big pool, really only large enough for two, or maybe three very friendly people, but still he tried to back away, his tears stopping from the surprise. He looked at her, watching as her blonde hair fanned out and became stained with the blood in the water.

"Your hair," he managed to speak, gathering it up in his hands and holding the ends, now pink, above the surface. He hated to see her like that, stained with the blood he'd shed.

Clarke looked down and her expression seemed to soften as she realised what was bothering him so much. Gently she extracted her hair from his grip and let it sink back into the water. "I don't care," she told him firmly.

He met her eyes, finding himself suspicious, not believing her- but all he saw in her gaze was honesty and truth. He shook his head, a few more tears slipping down his cheeks, unable to look at her through the shame.

She moved closer to him, taking both his hands in hers. "Hey, don't do that," she said softly. "Don't shut me out."

He wanted so badly to hold onto her, but he let go instead, backing up against the rocks, as far away from her as he could get. He shook his head. "Clarke, no."

His rejection hurt her more than he'd expected as she whispered, "Why not?" Her voice swung up with something like anguish on the second word. "Bellamy- you told me yourself- what we do to survive… that's not who we are. Not really."

It felt like a lifetime ago that he'd told her that, and while he could remember believing it then, remember the hope he'd tried to offer her with those words, now it seemed like he'd been someone else. Naïve, even in the face of all that had happened up to then… never believing it could get so much worse.

Again he met her gaze and he pulled in a sniffling breath. "I don't know how you can even stand to look at me," he whispered, feeling wretched, desperate- he was a demon, a murderer.

Bellamy was unprepared for the matching desperation in her own voice as she cried, "The same way you can look at me!" For a moment silence hung between them until she said softly, "Okay? We've both done things, Bellamy… horrible things. What happened to Echo- that wasn't your fault. It wasn't you."

They lost eye contact as Bellamy shook his head, his gaze falling again to the bloodstained water, then up to the sky.

He felt her hands seize his cheeks and she forced him to look at her. Fiercely she said, "I know who you are."

Bellamy stared at her- she was so adamant, so certain, that he found he couldn't do anything but believe her. Never had he experienced such acceptance from anyone who didn't share his blood, but again and again she had believed in him, even when they'd barely known each other. For a long moment he just stared at her, before finally he asked, softy, "How do you do that?"

He saw her forehead wrinkle, saw her eyes dart back and forth across his gaze as she tried to understand what he was meaning. So he filled in the blanks for her- he told her, "You just… you say one simple thing, and somehow it makes everything better." He didn't realise until now that maybe, when she'd gone, he'd missed that most of all. Without her beside him all he could see was everything he'd done wrong, could still do wrong. But with her next to him, he felt like he was worth something, that he wasn't just a monster after all. That he could be better, be the man his mother had raised him to be- a good man.

Clarke lowered her palms from his cheeks, but he grabbed her hands in his and pulled her through the water toward him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. He could feel her chest pressing against his, the pounding of her heart, the warmth of the water around them, and one of his knees was just lightly touching her thigh. Her eyes were locked on his, her gaze full of questions.

When he kissed her it seemed to surprise her, but only briefly, because almost immediately she melted into his lips, her whole body sinking into his arms. He held her, kissing her just lightly at first, testing, and then when she offered no resistance he curled a hand into her hair and parted his lips against hers. When his tongue found hers he felt her jump a little, and he laughed softly, pulling back from her lips and resting his forehead against hers. "Sorry," he whispered.

She shook her head. Her breath was warm, her skin soft. He sank his fingertips into her hair, parting the strands to stroke the base of her neck. He felt her shiver at his touch and he opened his eyes, taking in every detail of her face- eyes still closed, lips slightly parted, a pink hue to her cheeks, hair hanging in damp waves alongside her face. She was beautiful, but to notice that seemed somehow absurd, beside the point, considering how strong, intelligent, brave, resilient, tenacious, warm, considerate, generous, and kind she was.

Yes, Clarke was beautiful, but beauty was nothing compared to everything else that she was, and he wondered when exactly he'd first noticed it all, first saw how incredible she really was. When had he gone from being infuriated by her to not knowing how to live without her by his side? Why did it surprise him so much, considering the hell he'd gone through to find her, without ever once questioning if it made sense?

He watched as she finally opened her eyes to look at him, watched her tongue dart out and wet her lips before she said, softly, "We should go back."

Bellamy touched the curve of her cheek lightly with his fingertips and he nodded, but neither of them moved. Instead he watched as she leaned her face into his touch, raising her chin, and he took that as an invitation to cover her mouth with his again. This time she opened her lips to him, her fingers anchoring in his hair. The electric shock that jolted through him was better than any drug as she seemed to grow braver, her tongue seeking his out hungrily. He was happy to oblige her, drinking her in, holding her close, kissing her deeply until they both had to pull away and breathe again. In that moment oxygen felt so overrated- an inconvenience.

"We really do need to get back," she told him, voice soft. She picked up the cloth that was still floating nearby and wiped it down his neck, cleaning the last of the stains from his chest. He just watched her as she removed whatever blood he hadn't seen, and he couldn't help but feel like he was seeing her for the first time.

Finally she pulled away from him and he let her go, tracking her movements with his eyes as she pulled herself from the pool and gathered her shirt up at the front, squeezing it out over the water as best she could. He hauled himself out of the pool too, picking up the furs she'd brought and handing one over. They dried off as much as possible before pulling the rest of their clothes back on. He enjoyed the flush that had stayed on Clarke's cheeks the whole time, surprised to be introduced to a new side of her- a shy side, bashful even. He found it cute. It made him feel like there was even more to discover.

They were forced back into a reluctant reality as soon as they returned to the campsite, seeing Lia and Octavia already packed and ready to leave.

"Hey," Octavia called warmly to him, but he heard the nervousness in her voice. "I was about to come looking for you guys."

"We're fine," he assured her. He didn't look at her, not wanting her to read his face and maybe realise what had just happened. He wanted to keep it to himself, treasure it a little, before anyone else had anything to say about it. He glanced at Clarke, held her eyes for a moment, and he could see that she felt the same way.

"We must leave now," Lia spoke up, shattering the moment. Bellamy tore his gaze away from Clarke, climbed up on his and Octavia's horse, waited for his sister to settle in behind him, and then together the four of them set out again.

He was glad Octavia was guiding their horse, because no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on the path ahead, he simply couldn't. This time, it wasn't the Red that was consuming his thoughts. In fact, he hardly thought about the drug at all, instead imagining the feel of Clarke's lips against his, as he tried to wrap his mind around how drastically things had just changed.