Bellamy

Echo had covered Lincoln with Octavia's sheets, but Bellamy knew that could only be a temporary measure. Already the blood was soaking through the white linen, crimson and ugly. Once she had covered the body, she approached Bellamy with a bowl of water, which she set down next to him, handing him a clean cloth. Her brown eyes met his, and he watched as her gaze flickered to Octavia for a moment. His sister remained slumped against his chest, still and numb. He was glad that her back was facing Lincoln.

"Can you…" he trailed off, not wanting to say the words out loud, but Echo seemed to understand what was left unsaid. She moved away and started mopping up the blood, which had long since pumped itself out of Lincoln's neck until there was more on the floor than in his body.

Bellamy took Octavia by the shoulders and peeled her back from his chest, sitting her up a little. She allowed him to move her, not fighting or helping him either, just allowing herself to be posed. She was like a sad little puppet- limp, empty. He knew she was in shock.

"Okay," he said softly, gently unzipping the white sweatshirt she was wearing and pushing it back off her shoulders. There wasn't much he could do about the cotton tank top she wore underneath, which had also been stained, but her sweatshirt had taken the worst of it. He tossed the shirt to Echo, who added it to the pile of bloody linens.

Dipping the cloth into the water, Bellamy picked up Octavia's arm and cradled it in his lap. He started to wash the blood off her skin, slowly and methodically, his eyes flickering to her face every once in a while, searching for a reaction- any reaction- but her expression stayed blank.

When Octavia had been a toddler and water rations had been sufficient, he had helped his mother bathe her in a bucket in the middle of their quarters. Octavia had loved it, splashing and laughing that soft little laugh she had- the laugh of a baby who knew how to be quiet. As he tenderly bathed her arms and hands now, working the blood from the beds of her fingernails and the creases in her palms, he felt himself longing for that baby she once was.

Back then, it had been such a simple task to protect her. She was so little, so easy to care for, so easy to entertain. Her world had been so small, and she hadn't been old enough to realise it yet, not wise enough to wish for something bigger. He'd also been young enough himself, then, that he could have fun with her, without necessarily worrying so much about the reality of their lives. The world sat lighter on his shoulders at that age, despite the responsibility his mother had placed in his arms along with Octavia, only seconds after she was born.

Things were so much harder now, and the world was so much vaster. He had learned to let her go, with Lincoln, but now look what had come of that. All he wanted to do now was fold her in his arms and never let her out of his sight ever again. He wanted to hold onto her like a vice with one hand, and fend off every danger on Earth- and every potential danger- with the other. He tried to fight that urge, but it was so hard.

Finally he couldn't stand the silence. "Hey, O," he said softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. She didn't look at him, didn't acknowledge that he'd spoken. He finished washing the blood from the last finger on her left hand and said with forced cheeriness, "There we go… all clean."

He saw her eyes flicker to her hand, saw her clean fingers curl into her palm, and then fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. She was silent, and not a single muscle in her face twitched as she wept. He laid his palm against her cheek and tried to get her to meet his eyes, but she wouldn't do it- stubborn, always. At least that part of her was still awake.

Echo had finished mopping up the blood as best she could and she had left the room, but now she returned with an armful of fresh linens, new clothes for Octavia, and a few pieces of rope. Bellamy had no idea where she'd gotten any of it, but he was glad at least that she was handling what needed to be done. He started on Octavia's second arm, watching carefully over his sister's shoulder as Echo laid the sheets down on the floor, rolled Lincoln's body onto them, wrapped him up, and then used two sections of rope to tie the sheets tightly around his neck and ankles. She tossed the rest of the rope and the extra sheets aside and then left the room again.

Seeing Lincoln like that, shrouded and still, Bellamy felt such a mix of pain- for Octavia, for losing her first love and what her future might have been with him; for Lincoln, for the loss of his life and the pain he'd had to endure; and for Bellamy himself, for the loss of a good friend, and for the knowledge that it would up to him to pick up the pieces that Lincoln's death had left behind.

Lincoln had done so much for them, but now he was just gone. And to be killed so unceremoniously, so cruelly, so quickly… it still seemed unbelievable.

Bellamy was halfway done washing Octavia's right arm when Echo reappeared with two guards in tow. They lifted Lincoln's body, one at either end, and the sound of them struggling drew Octavia's attention for the first time. Bellamy tried to stop her from turning her head, laying his hands on her cheeks, but she pulled away from him and whirled. Seeing Lincoln being lifted up from the floor, her eyes seemed to grow angry and frightened all at once. Bellamy watched her take in the sight- the blood gone, Lincoln wrapped up and hidden from view, his body heavy and unmoving in the arms of the guards.

Her reaction was so swift and furious that he didn't have a chance to do anything until she was already on her feet and attacking the guards, trying to stop them from taking Lincoln. She didn't speak, she just screamed, ripping their hands away from his body with her nails. They dropped Lincoln in surprise and she caught him, but his body was heavy. She managed to cradle his head as he slumped back onto the floor, dropping to her knees with him in her arms. Bellamy rushed over, but as she started to untie the rope at Lincoln's neck, he reached out to stop her.

"No, Octavia, you don't want to do that," he warned her, closing his hands over hers. "Please, just… don't. You don't want to remember him like that. Please."

She didn't immediately respond, but her hands stilled under his grip and she made no further effort to untie the knots. When he gently pulled her away from Lincoln's body, she let him. Her voice was raw when she said, "I already do." The pain in her blue eyes when she looked at him made him feel a physical ache in his heart. "I already remember him like that."

Bellamy just gazed at her for a long moment. Echo was watching them, and he saw the sympathy in her eyes.

He just nodded his head at his sister and then he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "I know," he murmured. "I know." He felt her tuck her chin into the side of his neck, felt her fingers anchor in his hair and hold on tightly, felt his shoulder grow wet with her tears. He let her cling to him, just giving her whatever comfort he could. He nodded to the guards, and again they lifted Lincoln's body into their arms. This time Octavia didn't stop them when they carried him out of the room.

Echo remade the bed, righted the furniture, and soon it looked like nothing had happened in there. It was eerie, but Bellamy was glad Octavia wouldn't have to look at the carnage anymore. He finished washing her other arm and Echo handed him the fresh clothes she'd brought- a plain cotton shirt and soft pants, like something you'd sleep in.

"Here, O, change into these," he urged gently, pressing the clothes into her hands. He just wanted her to be rid of every reminder possible of what had just happened. He knew that wouldn't erase the horror of it all, but he couldn't imagine how terrible it must be to be caked in the blood of someone you loved. He just wanted her clean, and then they could work on getting her through this.

Hollowly, she nodded her head. He stood up, offering her a hand, which she took. He led her back to her bed and sat her down, watching as her eyes swept over the last couple of sheets that hadn't been needed to wrap the body, the pristine bed, the remainder of the rope Echo had used, and the clean floor that had only just been covered in Lincoln's blood. She didn't look like she believed any of it was real.

Bellamy crouched in front of her and took her hands in his, squeezing them tightly. "I'm going to be right outside," he promised her. "I'll be back as soon as you're changed."

Octavia nodded again. She licked her lips and whispered, "It's okay, Bell." Her voice was so numb and strange that it made him briefly squeeze his eyes closed against it.

"I'm going to be right back," he repeated, wanting her to take that in- that he wasn't leaving her. "Okay?"

Again, she nodded. He started to stand, but she laid a hand quickly over his, stopping him. He looked into her eyes, and he thought they seemed just a little more animated than before.

"I can stay," he offered. "I can just turn around."

"No," she said, her voice soft. "No, it's fine… go." Lightly, her fingers traced a meaningless pattern over the back of his hand. He stayed still, letting her do whatever she needed to do. Finally, after a long silence, she looked at him again and said, quietly, "I love you."

He just nodded his head, laced his fingers through hers, squeezed, and said once more, "I'll be right back."

Her eyes watched him all the way to the door, so he made sure to seem confident, strong, but as soon as he was outside and the door was shut, he looked at Echo and he just felt his whole face collapse. He couldn't help but feel totally powerless. He had watched his sister's world implode and all he could do was wash the aftermath from her hands. It made him feel helpless, like a failure.

Echo approached him but he waved her off, feeling tears welling up and not wanting Octavia to hear him cry. He was not as skilled at silence as she was.

Echo followed him down the corridor a short way, where he turned the corner and leaned his forehead against the wall, taking deep breaths to keep his tears from falling. He felt Echo's hand land on his back, rubbing gently, and he accepted that comfort without comment.

Finally he pulled in a shaky breath and pushed himself back from the wall, meeting her eyes. "I should have listened to you," he said miserably.

"It would not have made a difference," she said, and he was relieved that even if she was thinking 'I told you so,' she chose not to voice it. "If a shadow child decides to kill, people die."

"We can't stay with her," he said, just the thought of it- of Octavia having to travel with the person who'd killed Lincoln- making him sick.

"And yet we must," Echo reminded him. "We have no choice."

"Fine, but we can't leave Octavia in this goddamn place," Bellamy insisted.

Echo was silent for a long moment. Finally, tenderly, she said again, "And yet we must. We will come back for her in three weeks."

"No way," he snapped, his jaw clenching in anger. "Are you insane? I'm not leaving her here."

"If you do not, then the shadow child may kill one of us next to ensure that she gets what she wants," Echo told him firmly. "And if we do not keep moving, then Clarke may die. There is still the Ice Nation's bounty to fulfill before we can begin to head north. We do not know if Clarke is safe, or what her circumstances are. Don't be a fool, Bellamy- we are helpless here. It is distasteful, but your sister will be safe in this mountain for the next three weeks, and then you will come back here and liberate Octavia- and Clarke will be beside you."

When she reminded him about Clarke, the danger she was likely facing, he felt completely torn. Now that he'd seen Lia in action, he was even more afraid of what might be happening to Clarke. He knew they had to find her, and soon, but how could he leave his sister here, to be experimented on like a lab rat?

He drew in a deep breath, letting it out long and shaky. "Octavia and I need some time alone," he told her, then promised, "I'll think about everything you said."

"Do not underestimate Lia, or test her patience," she warned him.

"I won't," he said. He knew he wouldn't- not ever again. He reached out abruptly and pulled Echo close to him, just hanging onto her, not sure if this was for her benefit or his. She seemed to appreciate it though, her arms snaking around him and squeezing him back tightly. A long moment passed, and then he let go of her, giving her a soft smile before heading back around the corner and up the corridor toward Octavia's room.

He knocked lightly on the door, and when she didn't answer he just let out a long breath, readying himself to be strong for her, and then he pushed the door open.

At first it was like his mind didn't believe what he was seeing, like there was some kind of interruption between the visual input of his eyes and the processing part of his brain.

Then he registered it all at once: Octavia's body in the middle of the room, suspended from the light fixture by the length of rope Echo had left behind, her limbs gone limp, her head slumped forward, the rope tight around her neck. Her face was white.

The recognition of all that took only a second, but it took what felt like an eternity for him to run across the room and grab her by the legs, pushing her upward, taking the pressure off her neck. He heard someone screaming her name, but he didn't immediately recognise his own voice.

Echo rushed into the room and her face blanched as she saw what was happening. Hastily she climbed up on the bed and started pulling at the knot that connected the rope to the light, but it was done up so tightly that even with Bellamy supporting most of Octavia's weight, the rope was still taut enough that it was hard for her to loosen it.

"Hurry up!" Bellamy shouted at her. "Oh God… hurry, goddammit, hurry!"

Suddenly he saw Lia standing in the doorway, and he wished he could kill her- child or not, he wanted to murder her, imagined every type of death there was in that moment and wished he could inflict her with each one. But, holding Octavia, he was helpless to stop Lia as she walked across the room towards them, and he feared now for Echo's life too. Then she surprised both of them by simply holding out her knife, handle first, and Echo grabbed it and used it to quickly saw through the rope.

Octavia's entire weight fell into Bellamy's arms and he eased her to the ground, loosening the rope around her neck and pulling it off, hurling it aside as he grabbed her face in his hands, shaking her, trying to wake her up.

"Help me!" he yelled desperately- shouting at everyone and no one. He laid Octavia down again and he tilted her head back, opening her mouth and leaning down to breathe into her lips.

"There is no point in trying to revive her," Lia spoke up.

"You shut up," he said savagely, placing his hands on Octavia's sternum and trying to start her heart with desperate pushes deep into her chest.

"Leave us!" he heard Echo snap, but Lia just stood there, as though Echo hadn't spoken at all. Instead of going anywhere, Lia just watched him working on Octavia with a look of fascination on her face. But Bellamy hardly noticed her.

"Come on, O, come on, please, please," he said urgently, breathing into Octavia's mouth again then going back to the chest compressions. "Will you help me?!" he snapped at Echo, frantically, as she made no move to assist him. Hopelessly he groaned, "Oh God, why did you leave that rope in here?"

Slowly it came to him that there was a reason Echo wasn't helping- Octavia lay motionless and still on the floor, and nothing he was doing was making a single bit of difference. That understanding hit him like a punch in the stomach, and he rocked back onto his knees, gasping for breath, raking his fingers through his hair, unable to accept what was happening. But he had to.

"Oh God," he howled, the tears starting now, belatedly, a torrent down his face. "Why did I leave her alone? Octavia…" He leaned in again, touched her cheeks, swept the hair back from her face, tried to coax her to open her eyes, but nothing he did elicited any kind of response. "God, O, please, no, please don't do this…"

But was already done. Echo didn't approach him, and she didn't try to touch him either. She just watched as he pulled Octavia into his arms and curled himself around her, sobbing into her hair, a raw and agonising sound that came out of the deepest well of grief that he had. He wanted more than anything to die, but even that would take a phenomenal amount of effort, and right now he couldn't even move.

From the doorway, Lia said calmly, "Time to go."