100 One Shots #5
Disclaimer: I do not own The 100 nor do I own anything on CW.
Loving Eyes
They'd known the Grounders would come, but Clarke had never been prepared for what that moment would cost her. The warriors had descended on them in droves, more than she cared to stop and count. Their war cries were enough to send a shiver down her spine, but that wasn't the worst part.
The worst part came when her gaze found Bellamy's across the battlefield, and she knew there was no way that she would ever reach him in time. She struggled to convey the feelings she'd kept hidden for far too long, looking at him as though he were her last hope.
Bellamy could see the tears glistening on Clarke's cheeks; her blonde curls glowing in the waning sunlight. She looked beautiful even with her skin marred by blood, sweat, and tears. She would always be beautiful to him.
In that moment, with the sun sinking low in the sky and the sounds of battle all around, he knew that he loved Clarke Griffin with every fiber of his body and soul. He tried to commit this moment to memory, this moment when his whole world narrowed to one startling pair of sea blue eyes.
What caused his breath to catch was the answering love that shone only for him in the twin pools of cerulean sorrow. She loved him too. He knew that he didn't deserve her, but this made what he was about to do all the more important.
"Get in the drop ship now," Bellamy screamed.
He watched as Clarke shook her head, and began to try to make her way to where he was. She was willing to die by his side, but he couldn't allow that. She had to live- she had to live to fight another day even if he could not.
So Bellamy reluctantly shifted his gaze from Clarke to Miller, his dark eyes begging the other man to do what he could not- to save his Princess. Miller gave a nod, his arms wrapping around Clarke as he dragged her into the ship.
Her screams tore at Bellamy's heart, but as Miller shoved her behind him, he couldn't help the overwhelming relief that coursed through his body. The last thing he saw of the woman he loved was as the drop ship door closing, Anya leaping in before it closed for good.
As Clarke watched Bellamy disappear it felt as though her heart were being ripped in two. She knew that one of them had to stay with the 100, but more than anything she wished that she could save him.
Tears burned her eyes as she pulled the lever, closing the door. A blur descended into the ship, and for a moment she thought that maybe Bellamy had made it after all.
However when she turned, Clarke found Anya quickly overcome by the others. Anger burned in her blue eyes as she looked upon the woman who had probably just caused Bellamy's death, and she knew that for that the Grounder would pay.
"Tie her up," Clarke ordered, "Fire the rockets now!"
Jasper struggled with the switch, and then the ship quivered with the blast. Everyone was tossed about at the force of the explosion until it once again struck the earth, followed by an eerie silence.
Clarke waited for any sound that could indicate that there were still dangers waiting for them beyond the door. When nothing met her ears, she stood up and pulled down the lever.
What met her eyes when the door fell was utter devastation and carnage. Smoke rose up from the charred remains, ash floating softly on the breeze before drifting to the land on her clothes and in her hair.
Clarke looked around, her mind wandering to the identity of the unrecognizable bodies at her feet… No, she couldn't think about that now. She wouldn't think about that. For if she did, she knew that the pain would not be something she would come back from. She would sit and wallow in his death, always wondering if there was something she could have done to save him.
Suddenly screams and shouts filled the air along with a cloud of orange smoke.
"Mountain Men," Anya cried as everyone began falling to their knees coughing as they tried to expel the toxic fumes from their lungs.
Clarke fell right along with them, one hand covering her mouth and nose in an attempt to keep out the smoke. She looked up to see men in strange suits with breathing apparatuses over their faces walking slowly through the smoke, guns held tightly in their grip.
She felt her consciousness begin to slip as blackness crowded in, and she prayed that Bellamy had somehow survived because without him, she had no reason to live and no reason to fight. She welcomed oblivion, darkness being a far better companion to the overwhelming grief she felt at the loss of the man she loved.
-Lin
