"She must be pretty important to you."
What was the point of lying? Anyone could see the truth, it was clear as day. He looked directly at Clarke, lying on the floor, bruises on her cheeks and tears in her eyes. But still with what looked like an almost imperceptible smile, directed at him and only him.
"She is."
She sighs and there's something in her eyes that he can't quite figure out what it means. But himself can't even explain how he feels. Less than an hour ago, he thought she was dead. That she died six years ago. And yet, there she was. Alive, for now at least. He couldn't even fully believe it yet. He thought that he might have lost consciousness during landing and all this was a dream, because how else could this be real?
But it was real. And they were in danger. Obviously. It was the ground, after all. Old habits die hard.
"Okay," Diyoza says, "You got your deal."
He allowed himself to slightly relax for a split second, before Clarke's cry fill the air around them.
Bellamy is about to rush forward, ready to take off with his bare hands this damn electric collar if necessary, when Diyoza shouts in a surprisingly powerful and authoritative voice, "McCreary!"
Clarke stopped moving immediately.
"Sorry," McCreary says, unapologetically, "Finger slipped."
"Take it off of her." Bellamy snapped.
McCreary glanced at Charmaine, "Colonel?"
She nodded briefly, clearly upset about the whole situation. McCreary pulled up Clarke bluntly. Bellamy restrains himself to not intervene, while the madman took off Clarke's collar, looking like a kid who had just been deprived of his favorite toy.
Clarke put her hands on her neck as soon as she was free of the torture device. Her eyes, on the other hand, didn't leave Bellamy's. They were so close, yet way too far apart. But they didn't dare to move, as the others still had their guns aimed at them.
"Bring them in there," Diyoza says, pointing to the church, "McCreary, we need to talk."
One man grabbed Clarke by the arm and pushed her toward the edifice. She doesn't even have the energy to try and fight back anymore. She could only look at the man with so much hatred in her eyes that he would be kinda afraid of her for eternity afterwards. Bellamy followed, escorted by two other men, who closed the door behind them right after pushing him inside with Clarke.
And finally, Bellamy realized that this wasn't some kind of fucked-up dream.
No one could've told who moved first. In a matter of seconds, they're in each other's arms and they both have tears running down their cheeks. Their face was buried in the other's neck and they were holding onto each other so tight that it was almost painful, but they couldn't care less. They looked like a mess. A beautiful, broken mess. A million forgotten memories were making their way back into their hearts and it was like suddenly, no time had passed at all. The way the other felt against them and even their smell, as weird as it might sound, was bringing back so many memories. Unfortunately, even the most painful one.
"I'm so sorry, Clarke," Bellamy whispered.
"Don't be," he thinks he can hear her answer, "You did what you had to do. I'm so proud of you."
And even if it fills his heart in a way he cannot explain, he can't totally shake his guilt away. For years, he lived with it. Accepting what he had done, without never really forgiving himself. He knew that he had done what had to be done to save the others but didn't make it any easier. He would need so much longer to be able to even start to forgive himself.
"I missed you. I can't believe you're real," he simply replied.
"I missed you, too," Clarke responded through her tears, "I knew you'd come back."
She said that, but Bellamy, somehow, knew she had lost hope of seeing him again, at least a little. And he was right. She had lost hope. She had not expected to be saved, much less by him. And yet, here he was. A part of her, the old Clarke probably, thought that it was obvious that he was there. When had he ever let her down?
How was it even possible to spend such a heartfelt moment, while the ones before - and probably the ones that would shortly follow - had been so intense? But it was always like that with them, isn't it? One perfect moment, among a night of chaos.
They were still holding onto each other when Diyoza entered the room, followed by McCreary, Zeke, and two others.
"Hmm."
Bellamy and Clarke turned around, surprised. Diyoza was intensely watching them, something they both remarked. They moved apart slightly, yet still remaining close. Their gazes hardened, ready to be the co-leaders they once were. Diyoza didn't miss any of it.
"So, should we talk?"