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Clarke's cheeks burned as Bellamy threw the sleeping bag over their heads. Standing up, he pulled Clarke up with him in one fluid motion, gripping her hand tightly.
"Octavia?" he breathed, squeezing Clarke's hand tighter.
Octavia nodded with a watery smile. She stretched out her arms and Bellamy broke, running forward and catching her.
"I never thought I'd see you again," he said, tears welling in his eyes.
"I'm here big brother," she mumbled into his chest. Bellamy jerked forward, holding her at arms' length.
"Are you hurt?" he asked sternly, his eyes searching her body for hidden wounds and injuries.
Octavia closed her eyes and grimaced, moving her hand away from her side. Turning her hand, Bellamy gasped when he saw it covered in blood. Octavia gingerly lifted up the hem of her shirt revealing a deep gash.
"Grounders," she whispered, "Lincoln didn't make it," she choked back more tears.
Bellamy turned, "Clarke." His eyes pleaded with her and she had never seen that look in his eyes. Behind him, Octavia began to sway on her feet. Clarke called out, rushing to her. Bellamy caught her in his arms, lowering them both to the ground. He rested her head in his arms as she struggled to stay awake.
"Octavia! Octavia!" his voice was gruff but the tears still fell. Clarke got the sleeping bag and her pack. There was next to nothing in there that would help Octavia.
Octavia's eyes fluttered, "Until we meet again, big brother."
Bellamy shook her, "No. No. Clarke is going to make you better, Octavia. Do you hear me? Fight this." She nodded but her face had lost all its color.
"You can help her, right?" his eyes locked with Clarke's. Clarke lifted Octavia's shirt and traced the outside of the gash, running her fingers along the purple lines that stretched across Octavia's stomach.
"She's lost a lot of blood, Bellamy. And these lines? It means the wound is infected and that infection is traveling through her body." She managed to maintain her formal, doctor candor, but refused to look at Bellamy.
Bellamy reached for her arm, forcing her head up, "But you can fix her? Make her better?"
"I don't know," She relented, feeling her own eyes begin to water.
He shook his head violently from side to side, "You have to Clarke. You're the only one who can. You have to." His eyes begged her again and Clarke's heart turned in her chest.
"Bellamy," she began, grabbing his hand, "I can't."
He stared at her, disbelieving. A terrible moment passed between them.
"The infection is too far gone. The most we can do is make her comfortable…" she trailed off.
Bellamy's jar clenched, "There has to be something you can do, Clarke. Please."
"No," Octavia's eyes fluttered and Bellamy's attention was instantly on her, "You heard her…I'm done," she shifted in his arms, "I don't need anything, Bellamy. I just needed you," she smiled weakly, "I knew I would find you."
Bellamy rested his forehead on Octavia's, "Please don't do this, Octavia."
Octavia moved her arm, reaching for Clarke, "Clarke."
Clarke bit her lip, trying to hold in her tears, "I'm here Octavia."
Octavia's breath was shallow and it was hard to speak, "Make sure he doesn't get himself killed."
Clarke laughed lowly between her tears, "I will." She promised.
She looked at Bellamy, devotion in her eyes and she began to fade even further away, "Thank you, big brother."
He brushed the hair from her forehead, "I love you, Octavia."
She smiled closing her eyes, finally, "Until we meet again." She took in a deep, shuddering breath. And then she was gone.
"Until we meet again," Bellamy said, pulling her body closer. The sobs ricocheted out of him and he rocked her body in his arms. Clarke wrapped her arms around her knees, crying and crying.
They stayed like that for hours; long after Octavia's body had gone cold. Eventually there was silence from them both. Bellamy stood up carefully, placing Octavia's body on the sleeping bag. Unzipping Clarke's pack he pulled out the small trowel. He started for the trees.
Clarke stood up quickly, "Bellamy," she choked out, sniffling. Her stomach lurched when he turned to face her: his eyes were red and blotchy and his whole face was swollen with the heartache and sadness.
She reached forward for the trowel, "Let me."
"No," was all he said. He stalked back into the forest.
The chill of night came and Clarke pressed herself to the tree farthest away from Octavia. She wanted to be as far away as she could.
She began to hear strangled screams and cries from the woods. She jumped each time, the sounds lurching through the trees.
A few hours later, Bellamy returned. He dropped the trowel at Clarke's feet and slowly picked Octavia's body up. She didn't follow him. Didn't think she should.
He returned eventually. Although not all of him, she decided later. He met her at the tree she was sitting against. Clarke took his hand gently, and pulled him down. He landed on his knees, the cries forming in his chest again. He breathed deeply and sporadically. She placed her other hand on his cheek and he let out a sob in response.
He collapsed into her and she held on to him tightly, wrapping her arms around his chest. She felt herself begin to cry again, tears seeping onto his shirt. In the early morning hours they fell asleep, still attached to each other.