I think the most challenging thing with this story is speeding up the chemistry between Clarke and Bellamy. Does it sound like it's moving too fast, with Bellamy's "feelings" at all? Even though they're not quite feelings yet... I don't have two seasons to work with, but I DO think under these circumstances, their relationship would move faster than on the ground as leaders. Because here they only have each other. Does that make sense? Oh, and has anyone seen the new season 3 trailer? (Screams) Sorry. Pleease review!
Bellamy stared at the door until his anger ran dry. He didn't realize his hands were clenched until he noticed the sting from bitten palms. He instantly loosened his grip, trying to shrug off whatever it was that had gotten into him.
If Clarke wanted to die, then so be it. If she wanted to pointlessly hand her life over to the Council by walking out exposed and vulnerable into their sights, that was fine by him. She had left behind the Amoxicillin and he'd remembered the dosage. Since he'd found the pod, their agreement had reached its end. Bellamy, as of now, relied on her for nothing.
"She might be able to do it," the mechanic said from behind him and he ground his teeth, turning away from the door. "No," he snapped. "The Princess has just walked in front of the firing squad."
Bellamy moved past Raven as if he were going somewhere, but then it hit him that he had no where to go. He couldn't leave the room. What he really wanted right now was to take a closer look at the pod, but he couldn't risk it with her leering over his shoulder.
Raven scoffed, causing Bellamy to look over at her. "Clarke just got in front of thousands of people to tell them what the Council doesn't have the guts to. She risked a mass panic, maybe even a civil war to say that. Sure, I've known her about a day, but I wouldn't underestimate her." A nonchalant shrug. "She definitely has Abby's blood, with a backbone like that."
A backbone. Did it take a backbone to send a girl's father out to space? Bellamy stared at her. "I wouldn't be so quick to compare the two of them if I were you," he said darkly.
Raven studied him, one hand on her hip. "What's that supposed to mean?"
He rested against the wall, breaking away from her gaze. "Whatever you want it to."
Raven worked on the pod in silence, but sometimes the sound of twisting gears and gadgets would cease, as if she didn't know what to do next. It made Bellamy wonder if her fixing up the ship was just a hoax to throw him off. But she was an idiot if she thought he was about to let go that quickly. Bellamy knew what he wanted, so every once in awhile, he would sneak glances over to the pod, trying to note the mechanics of it in in case he had to take it by force. It would be an ignoble thing to do, but if he was willing to shoot the Chancellor to get to the ground, he'd deprive a young girl the product of her hard work.
You've always done what you had to do to protect your sister, didn't you? That's who you are.
If only Clarke knew how wrong she was. It would certainly make his actions seem more justified but that didn't make them right. And it certainly didn't earn him forgiveness.
Bellamy tugged his fingers through his hair, feeling annoyed at the random thought of her. But with it, brough something else: The image of Clarke being floated rose up in his mind, unbidden. He could see it clearly, how her body would be sucked back into that endless void, where no hand would reach for her this time.
He pushed it away.
When Bellamy had first met her, he'd taken her for some privileged, incapable girl that had everything handed to her on a golden platter. Her education, her freedoms, her status. Her people were the reason for his people's poverty. They had less so that her kind could have more, but to pin that on Clarke was like blaming Octavia for his mom's actions; it wasn't fair.
An uncomfortable feeling gnawed in the pit of Bellamy's stomach. It was what had him continually glancing at the door, waiting for it to open. But that just made him irritated with himself. Clarke didn't even matter to him and regardless of her current predicament, his original impression was right. Once, she had once been pampered. Ignorant. Both a burden and an inconvenience to him.
But despite that, Bellamy had to admit that she was other things, too. She was smart and innovative. She thought well under pressure, and did what she believed in, even if she paid for it in blood. She did the right things the right way while he did the right thing all the wrong ways.
Their morals set them worlds apart, in the one truth that as Bellamy was willing to kill for his sister, Clarke was willing to die for her people.
That's who you are, the words repeated in a loop. Bellamy shook his head. If this was who he was, then Clarke was much better than him.
And he hated that.
"Hand me those pliers over there, will you?" Raven's voice cut through to him, holding out a hand from the pod. Bellamy thought about just ignoring her, but then he considered that this could be his chance to get a closer look at the pod.
He shoved off the wall and wandered over to her, grabbing the metal tool off the floor. He slapped it into her palm. "So how exactly does this thing run?" Bellamy asked coolly.
Raven let out a snort. "Right. Like I'm going to give you tips on how to man my ship. Not the brightest crayon in the box, are you?"
Bellamy glowered at her back. It'd be easy to take it now, be even he wouldn't risk hijacking a broken escape pod. Unless that had been a lie to begin with. His frustration piqued. "You mentioned some kind of pressure thing didn't you?"
Raven pulled herself out so abruptly that Bellamy had to move to the side to keep out of her way. Her eyes flashed with warning, belying the hint of a smile on her face. "Pressure regulator," she explained. "And no, it's not important. Unless you're aspiring to die a very painful way by air bubbles in the brain and all. If that's the case then be my guest." She waved her fingers at him. "Pop, pop."
Bellamy pursed his lips, unamused. He rapped his knuckles on the pod's frame, trying a different angle. "You sure a hunk of metal like this will hold?"
Raven stepped towards him. "That's the dream," she said, and shoved him back from the pod. "And keep your delinquent hands off that hunk of metal."
Bellamy was about to say something in reply to that. But then she wagged her eyebrows, conspiratorial as if to say, do you really want to push me? And he remembered that she was the one covering for him. If that still held in Clarke's absence.
He settled for a contemptuous glare.
It melted away though, as the sounds of approaching footsteps sounded from down the corridor, coming for them. Bellamy's back went ramrod straight. Fear prickled the hairs on his neck as he searched around the room for someplace to hide.
"Sheet," Raven said calmly and Bellamy's eyes snapped to a silvery curtain lying in a heap behind the pod. He snatched it up and ducked beneath it, just as the door opened.
Everything inside him went very still. Even his breath was squeezed from his lungs as he waited, listening from under the sheet. The footsteps stopped.
"Hey, you got the regulator," Raven said, her voice free of the scorn it held when she was speaking to him. But then the lightness in her tone diminished. "What's wrong?"
"Clarke," the other person who could only be Abby Griffin said. Bellamy tensed. He hadn't spoken to the Chief Medical Officer beyond his one physical that was required for all new cadets. But he still recognized her voice; could picture her in his mind. Chin raised, arms held tightly at her sides, eyes hard and authoritative.
Raven feigned ignorance. "What about her?"
"I find it hard to believe you missed the message," Abby deadpanned, but she didn't sound angry. On the contrary, she sounded defeated. "I know she's been here, Raven."
Bellamy felt his chest contract and he half-expected Raven to give him up. To toss him to the wolves that was the Council. But the mechanic just said, "I thought she was on the ground."
Abby sighed. "We don't have time for this. You have to install the regulator. Now. How long will it take for you to launch?"
Bellamy could practically feel Raven's hesitancy, tangible and thick as it bled through the sheet. "With the regulator? Maybe twenty minutes."
His hands tightened into fists. So she had lied. But he barely had enough time to process that before Abby said, "They'll be here in five."
What? His already cold blood turned to ice.
"The Guard?"
"Marcus. Nygel turned in the morphine I traded for the regulator."
Raven's voice turned incredulous. "You gave her morphine?"
"Now, Raven."
Footsteps instantly moved across the floor and Bellamy felt the vibration of them under his hands.
"What about Clarke?" Raven asked, all pretenses gone as she got to work installing the equipment.
Abby hissed out a breath and Bellamy no longer recognized her unkempt voice. "I don't know where she is. She took a huge risk with Jake's recording. But...maybe it was for the best."
The screech of grating metal sounded from the pod. "Why?"
"Over three hundred people are going to be culled in less than twelve hours if we don't receive word that Earth is survivable. Oxygen levels are at twelve percent and I already have patients showing signs of hypoxia. I opted to have some of them put into a comatose state to decrease O2 intake but the Council refused."
"So they're just going to murder all those people?" Raven said, spitting the words in disgust.
"No. Not if you can make it down before then and radio us back," Abby said. "Then Jaha will launch Project Exodus as planned."
Bellamy struggled to keep his breathing shallow as to not look like anything other than some indiscernible piece of junk from the outside. Project Exodus; the ships that would bring everyone to Earth.
The sound of Raven's movements instantly ceased. "'Me?' You're coming down, too."
"There's no time. I can only buy you minutes." Abby's voice drew closer as she moved towards the pod. She drew in a slow breath. "Only one of us has to reach the ground, Raven."
"Abby..."
"You have to hurry. Three hundred lives depend on you."
By the clanking of metal, Bellamy could tell Raven had resumed her work. "No pressure," the mechanic hissed.
Bellamy's mind raced. That pod held two and now, there was a vacant spot. This was his chance, as surely as though God had carved it out just for him.
But the growl that ripped from Raven's mouth a second later pulled Bellamy out of his reverie. "She gave us a bad part!" She yelled.
The sound of footsteps receded and Bellamy didn't realize it was Abby moving away until her voice appeared by the door. "Find a way, Raven," she said. "You have to. I'll give you as long as I can."
"Abby-" But the door had already closed.
Bellamy waited a single heartbeat before pulling the sheet off and standing up.
Raven was halfway into the pod, slamming her fist against against a dial. He peered in from the opposite side, casting cursory glances at the door. "Looks like you're down a passenger," Bellamy chided.
Raven shot him a glare. "Regulator is a bust. Both of us would be dead within minutes."
"Could you substitute it with something else?"
Raven passed a hand over her forehead, slick with sweat. "I don't have enough parts to fabricate a regulator. No, I'd need some kind of protection, something durable enough to survive re-entry. The only thing like that though would be..." her eyes suddenly drew up, staring at something just passed Bellamy's shoulder. He turned around, following her gaze upwards to where another spacesuit hung. It wasn't like the ones he and Clarke had worn; this one was brown and obviously ancient.
He glanced back at Raven who was smiling at it. "Bingo," she mumbled.
Bellamy looked to where his own suit was lying, discarded on the floor. Understanding slowly pieces itself together and self-loathing suddenly erupted inside him, colored in vivid, ugly shades of regret. He'd left his helmet at the airlock and that one, fateful decision would cost him. That was it.
He had no alternative.
It was time to make another wrong.
In one fluid movement, Bellamy grabbed Raven, dragging her out of the pod by her legs. The suddenness took her by surprise, allowing him to get a good grip around her waist as he yanked her up. She thrashed against him, but Bellamy's hold was firm. He didn't want this, but it was the only way. The only way.
He didn't want to hurt her so he used the wall as leverage, pinning her to it. A screwdriver was gripped in her hand and Bellamy wrested it out of her fingers, until it dropped to the floor.
"I knew it," Raven snapped at him, the accusation coated in venom. "I cover for you and this is what I get? I wonder why Clarke even bothered."
Bellamy shoved away his guilt. "I left my helmet in the airlock," he told her. And then he was speaking the words aloud. "This is the only way."
Raven didn't reply. The voices that appeared just outside the door instantly snagged both of their attention and Bellamy's eyes prang towards it. In the distance he could make out Abby's voice and someone else's. Deeper. Masculine. Marcus Kane.
Panic flared inside him and Bellamy exchanged a look between the spacesuit and Raven, still trapped beneath his arm.
Rage lit in her eyes. "If you launch, I die. You got lucky with Jaha, but this time you won't. This will be murder."
When he said nothing right away, her lip curled in revulsion. "Wow. You know you may be wanted by the Council, but you are no different from them."
His anger sparked, but it wasn't directed at her. It was directed at himself.
Raven was right. She wasn't like Jaha and Bellamy couldn't use the excuse that she deserved what she got. She was innocent, regardless of her snide remarks and haughty attitude.
For nearly a day, Bellamy's hands had been wiped of blood. Was he really that ready to dirty them again?
I wonder why Clarke bothered. He hesitated.
Why had she bothered? She wouldn't have if she knew what he was planning to do. What he was doing. No, if Clarke saw him now, she'd take back every seemingly good thing she'd said of him. She'd see him as he once saw himself; a murderer. A monster.
He shut his eyes. My sister. My responsibility. "I don't...I don't want to do this."
The heat in Raven's gaze didn't lessen. "Then don't. It would be a waste to kill me now if the Exodus ships are just going to come down later. But if you take my place and mess this up, you won't just have my death on your hands. You'll have over three hundred, too."
Bellamy felt his resolve crumble. One death alone was a burden. But hundreds? His hands couldn't hold that much blood.
Raven glanced at the door, where the voices of Abby Griffin and Marcus Kane still echoed behind it. "If you're gonna decide, you better do it now, Shooter. Or should I say, Murderer."
Bellamy's anger doubled. It mixed with a myriad of other emotions; panic, fear, hatred, grief, even despair. It was cataclysmic, and it threatened to tear him apart.
You're not a killer, Bellamy.
No. For some reason, he'd been given the opportunity to make a different choice. A do-over, but he wasn't deciding it blind. This time he knew the weight that one word carried. Killer. If he went to the ground now, it would haunt him for the rest of his life, and dance over his grave.
Bellamy stared at Raven, his eyes boring into hers. "There's a girl," he said. "Of the One Hundred. Her name is Octavia Blake. I want you to find her. You tell her I'm coming."
Raven glared back a moment longer but Bellamy took it as acquiescence. He dropped his arm and moved back before she could try something. But she just picked up the wrench again and used it to smash the glass panel over the suit. Fragments rained across the floor, glimmering like diamonds, but Raven ignored them as she pulled the suit on.
"You'd better get out of here while you still can," she said, as she raised the helmet over her head. "It's about to get a little bumpy."
He wouldn't to be told twice. Bellamy moved to the door. He didn't need to look through the small window to know guards were just beyond it.
He took a deep breath. New plan, then. First, he'd make it past the guards. If he got that far, maybe he'd find Clarke, provided she wasn't already dead.
Bellamy raised his hand to the exit panel, praying he hadn't just let his only way to Earth slip through his fingers.
He pressed it.
The door slid open and he had a moment to absorb the scene before him-Abby opposing Marcus, with two guards at her sides. They stopped talking. Kane's gaze met his.
And then Bellamy was moving, breaking through the two guards that were sorely unprepared for him. Kane shouted something, but Bellamy was already halfway down the corridor, running for his life, for his own soul. Running as if all his ghosts had shed their nightmares and were now chasing after him.