Octavia

The room was dark, cold, and it took her a moment for her eyes to adjust. Still, she knew where Bellamy was, not only because she'd seen him through the window, but also because his breath was laboured and loud, so she could locate him easily through the darkness.

She faced the window for a moment and she tried to see Clarke and Lia, but all she saw was her own reflection. Silently she mouthed, "I'll be okay."

Turning back in Bellamy's direction, she swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself for whatever was coming.

"It's me, Bell," she said softly as she slowly closed the distance between them. She saw his face snap towards her and she held her breath, trying not to focus on how different he looked- face covered in blood, eyes clouded with a crazy, faraway expression, skin ashen.

She reached him and tried to control the shake in her voice as she said again, "It's me." His eyes were boring into hers, his chest heaving. She saw his fists clench.

Octavia dropped to her knees beside him and she reached out with her hands, intending to lay her palms on his knees, but before she could he bolted upright and ran to the other side of the room, plastering himself against the opposite wall, near the door.

She could hear the strain in his breathing, the strange grunting and groaning sounds he was making under his breath, and she recognised all that from when Lincoln had been a Reaper. She knew there was no chance he might escape, since she'd had to hit a button to unlock the door before coming in, and it had slid back into place behind her. They were locked in here together.

"Bell," she said gently, standing up again, keeping her movements slow as she started towards him.

He launched himself at her, so fast she barely registered his movement until he was grabbing her by the shoulders and throwing her toward the door. He went the opposite way, back to his corner, crouching down with his back to her, holding his head in his hands.

"Go!" he screamed, and it was her brother's voice and not his voice. Even uttering that single syllable seemed to be incredibly difficult for him, and she heard his breathing catch and grow thicker as he struggled.

"I'm not going to leave you," she told him, not moving, just talking to him. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

For a long moment there was silence, and then Bellamy ripped himself away from the wall and he grabbed her, throwing her down roughly onto the floor and jumping on top of her. With his face so close to hers she could see the needle marks on his neck, the redness in his eyes, the sweat beading his forehead, and it broke her heart- to see him like this, so tortured, so broken, so out of control. He screamed into her face, then stopped, staring at her, chest heaving.

"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered, terrified.

Bellamy leaned on his heels, backing onto his knees, clawing his fingers through his hair, his body subtly rocking as he let out heartrending shrieks and soft groans, muttering nonsensically to himself. The sounds were horrifying, but she forced her features into a neutral expression. She wanted to hug him, hold him, but she just sat up slowly and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees.

"Go," he whispered, his voice so raw. "Please, I… can't…"

"Yes you can, Bell," she said urgently. "You won't hurt me, I know you won't."

"I will!" he yelled at her, grabbing her and shoving her across the floor until her back hit the wall, his hand around her throat like a vice. She grabbed his wrist in both of her hands and widened her eyes, waiting for the squeezing pressure of his grip, but it never came.

"You won't, will you?" she asked softly. "You can't hurt me. "

He was breathing hard, laboured, not looking at her, his eyes wild with terror, sweat pouring down his forehead, hair matted against his scalp, a constant drone of mumbling grunts under his breath as he just knelt there, holding onto her, not loosening or tightening his fist, just holding her throat in his hand.

"I'm going to get you out of here," Octavia whispered, tightening her fingers around his wrist and pulling gently. He let her remove his hand, and she watched as he dragged his gaze up from the floor and looked at her. "Okay?" she whispered, blinking back tears. "I'm going to get you out of here and you're going to be fine."

"Go," he whispered.

Octavia shook her head. "No. Clarke and I-"

"Go," he said again, savagely. "You… and Clarke." It seemed such an effort for him to speak to her.

On impulse she leaned forward into his chest and laid her cheek on his heart, the way she used to when she was little and panicked, needing something solid and reassuring to hang onto. She felt how tense he was, heard the strange rhythm of his heartbeat- first fast, then slow and thudding, and then seeming to skip a few beats, pause for way too long, before returning to normal.

He didn't wrap his arms around her, as he normally would have. Instead she felt his hand touch her hair, felt his fingers thread through the strands, and for a moment everything seemed fine, but then he was wrenching her back by the hair and shoving her away. He jumped to his feet and put distance between them, and she watched in horror as he put his palms squarely on the wall and rammed his head into it over and over.

"Bellamy, stop!" she yelled, hurrying to him, grabbing his shoulder and trying to haul him away from the wall, hating to watch him hurt himself. He whirled and backhanded her, knocking her to the floor. She tasted blood on her lip, but she barely noticed it as in the next moment he was pulling her upright and holding her against the wall, hands gripping her upper arms. His chest heaved and his teeth ground together with a disturbing crunching sound.

"Hey, big brother," she whispered, keeping eye contact with him. "I know you won't let anything happen to me… right?"

He didn't let go of her, but she felt his grip relax just a little. She held her breath as he leaned his face in close to her neck, and for a moment she was so sure he was going to bite her that she stiffened in dreadful anticipation. She felt his breath on her skin, hot and sticky, and it made her heart pound faster.

But the bite never came. Instead, he laid his forehead down against her shoulder and cried horrible, grief-filled sobs from somewhere deep within him. She tried to move her arms out of his grip, wanting to wrap them around him, but he wouldn't let her. Somehow she sensed that this was it, this was the limit of his control- he could cry on her shoulder, but if she touched him again then maybe he wouldn't be able to stop himself from killing her. So she just leaned her cheek against his head and let her own tears fall silently into his hair.

The door opened, startling them both, and Bellamy pulled his head back from her shoulder abruptly and whirled her around, throwing her roughly towards the door. She crashed into whoever had opened it, and she heard the door slam shut behind her and the lock click back into place. Octavia scrambled to her feet and looked down at Lia, who appeared annoyed as she too stood up.

Before Octavia could say anything, Clarke had run up to grab her and wrap her arms around her. "Are you okay?" she asked urgently. She seemed terrified.

Octavia wrestled free of Clarke's arms and she turned her eyes to Lia, glaring at her. "Why did you do that?" she snapped. "I was getting through to him, couldn't you see it?"

"Yes," Lia answered, looking shocked. "I could. How is that possible?"

"I told you," Octavia answered sharply. "Bellamy wouldn't hurt me."

"A Reaper has never been known to show mercy," Lia insisted. "A Reaper does not care about family, about love, about loyalty. How did you do that?"

Octavia remembered the looks of fascination Lia had often worn when she'd watched her and Bellamy, as though there was something about their relationship that she found intriguing, or like she longed for something similar. Maybe she'd had something similar, once, and missed it.

"He loves me," Octavia said carefully. "We aren't like a normal family. He raised me… protected me… he was all I knew aside from our mother for sixteen years… that kind of bond can't be broken. Maybe it's stronger than the Red."

Lia seemed totally captivated by that statement, but also completely perplexed. She frowned at the floor for a long moment before she said, "Follow me."

A short way down the hall from Bellamy's cell, Lia opened a door and ushered them inside. Then she left them there, locking them in.

"Bellamy's still in there, Clarke," Octavia said, hardly noticing that once again she was a prisoner. "He's going to be okay- you can help him, just like you did with Lincoln." She was excited, her heart surging with hope.

"What were you thinking, going in there?" Clarke exclaimed.

"I was thinking I needed to do something," Octavia snapped. "One of us had to."

"You almost got yourself killed," Clarke protested.

"No I didn't," she answered, glaring, stubborn.

Clarke drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, and she seemed to switch gears as she started to think through the logistics of what Octavia was asking. "To help him we need to get him out of here… we need to take him to a medical facility, where he can be monitored for a day or two while he detoxes… we'll need fluids, adrenaline, and a defibrillator to do it properly."

"Right, and the version that doesn't take place in a magical fairy land?" Octavia asked dryly.

Clarke flashed her the briefest of smiles, considered that, and then said, "Bare minimum, we need a cave and anything that can deliver an electric shock."

It still sounded impossible. Both women paced, thinking, Clarke running her hands through her hair, Octavia occasionally kicking the wall in frustration.

Neither of them had come up with any kind of a plan by the time Lia returned. For a moment the little girl just stood in the doorway and looked at them with a grim face that Octavia didn't quite know how to read. Finally she said, "Come with me and do everything I say. I'm going to take you out of here- all of you."