A/N: This chapter is brought to you by a 3-hour stopover in Sydney and free airport wifi. :)

Bellamy

For a long time he watched the IV line, the little chamber filled with clear fluid, the drip, drip, drip from the tubing, the slightly strange feeling of the cannula in his hand, keeping his vein open. His mouth was dry but he wasn't thirsty.

Next he pulled at his restraints, testing them, trying to break them, but the leather seemed to hold despite his best efforts. He hoped that once he was a Reaper again, that added strength wouldn't break these bonds.

"Hey," he said to Clarke.

She was nearby, writing notes on a clipboard after deciding to keep a record of this like a real medical procedure. Her pencil paused on the paper and she looked at him. "What is it?" She frowned in concern as she approached him. "Do you feel okay?"

"Yeah, I feel fine," he assured her. "I was just thinking, when this all starts, what if the restraints don't hold? Is there a backup?"

Clarke nodded. "Lia," she said. "If it comes to it, she'll dart you. I'd rather not do that, because I don't want to add anything to your body when it'll already be so unstable, chemically. But it's there just in case."

"She told me sometimes they don't work so fast," he said, clenching his jaw a little. "What about the doors? Can they be locked from the outside?"

"It's not going to come to that," she assured him.

"But if it does- can they be locked from outside this room?"

Clarke glanced towards the doors, and then she nodded. "Yes. If we have to."

"Good. So if I break the restraints on my wrists, I'm going to go for the ones on my ankles right away- just like Lincoln did in the drop ship. If that happens, you and O need to get outside the doors right away and close them. Lia can do her thing, and then you can both come back in and keep an eye on me. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Clarke said gently. She looked scared, and he wanted to take her hand, but he couldn't. The restraints had felt more and more confining, irritating, as the day had gone on. Now, Clarke seemed to sense his frustration and she laid a hand against his cheek. For a moment her skin felt wonderful, cool and soothing, but then he felt a strange prickling in his cheek and he had to pull his face away.

"Sorry," he said, shaking his head a little.

"Hypersensitivity to touch," Clarke told him. "It's normal." She went to the light switches and turned all but one of them off, making the room dark for him, preparing for when his eyes would become light sensitive. He nodded his head, drawing in deep breaths, trying not to show how terrified he was.

"Clarke," he said to her, drawing back her eyes. "Thanks for this."

"Stop saying that," she said tenderly. "I'm doing this for myself as much as you. And for Octavia."

Bellamy nodded. "Yeah, I know." He let out a long breath and added, "God, I can't wait for this to be over."

"This is the worst part," she told him. "Anticipation."

He didn't think that was quite true- yes, it was terrible to be waiting, but the feeling of actually craving the drug, the horrifically wild and frenzied skipping of his thoughts, his single-mindedness, his violence, his lack of caring for those he would normally love… that was the worst part.

As the day dragged on, Octavia and Lia came back and Clarke explained the plan to them. Bellamy could only relax once everyone agreed to his terms. As long as Octavia and Clarke stayed safe, he could focus on what he needed to do. He knew this was unpredictable, but the more he could ensure their protection, the better.

Gradually, over time, his craving for the drug became stronger and stronger, and he felt more and more out of touch with reality. His heart was pounding, his breath coming quickly, beads of sweat on his brow and chest. Clarke brought over a bowl of cool water and dipped a cloth in it, wiping it down over his skin.

Octavia was sitting nearby in a chair, and she leaned forward as Clarke tended to him. "Are you okay, Bell?"

He nodded. "For now. Are you sure you want to be here?"

She sat back in the chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "Till the end."

With a soft smile, he said, "Okay then."

"Look at me for a second," Clarke said, and he did, turning his eyes toward hers. She pulled out a small flashlight and shined it across his gaze, which made him cringe, like he was looking directly into the sun, though the beam of the flashlight was quite mild- weak, even. Clarke just nodded and jotted down some notes.

"Do you have to do that?" Octavia asked, an edge to her voice. "Write everything down?"

"I'm just making a record of this," she answered, sounding surprised. "It might be helpful later."

Octavia glowered, crossing her arms over her chest, her jaw tight.

Without thinking, Bellamy tried to reach out to her, but them he remembered he couldn't. "O," he said, drawing her attention. "It's okay." He knew what she was thinking about- Santos, the psychiatrist in the Sky Box.

Letting out her breath, she nodded. She eyed Clarke for a moment and said, "I'm going to read that, just so you know."

Clarke laughed softly and handed over the clipboard. "Go ahead- it's boring." Directing her attention back to Bellamy, she stroked his hair for a moment and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Like crap," he answered honestly. "But I know it's only going to get worse."

"Pain?" she asked carefully.

He shook his head. "No, no pain. Just… discomfort. I feel like my skin is crawling. And I keep thinking about the Red." Even as he said it, he was hit with an overwhelming craving that he could barely stand. He pulled in a breath and let it out again, feeling his voice shudder. "I feel like I'm going to die without it."

"Well, lucky for you, we're not going to let that happen," Clarke said gently, but he could see she was worried, and so was Octavia. The only one who seemed totally unconcerned was, of course, Lia, who was sitting in a chair of her own near the door, just watching everything they did with obvious curiosity.

Someone was always with him. Even though they took breaks to eat and sleep, one of the three of them was always by his bedside, waiting with him, monitoring him. It helped not to feel alone, but he was slipping deeper and deeper into a place he didn't want to go.

Occasionally he slept, fitfully, plagued by nightmares, but he would always wake with a start, disoriented and confused. If Clarke or Octavia happened to be next to him when that happened, he would get a soft hand on his face and a murmur of reassurance. If Lia was the one keeping watch, she would stay where she was and say something robotic, like, "You are still alive." It usually made him laugh.

Octavia happened to be the one next to him when he woke up and felt that something had changed. She saw his eyes open and stood to approach him, but he held up a hand and said, "Don't."

She stopped, obviously hearing the edge to his voice. "Do you need anything?"

"Can you turn the lights off?" he asked, gritting his teeth.

"They're off," she answered gently. "All of them. It's dark in here, Bell."

He could see her so clearly that it seemed like there were giant spotlights pointed right at her, but he nodded his head and said, "Good." He'd thought his cravings were bad before this, but now he felt horrific, like he could barely stand to be in his own skin. He felt his heart pounding, felt his hands trembling, a cold sweat across his skin.

Octavia appeared suddenly beside him with a cool cloth, wiping it over his chest. It felt good and bad at the same time- soothing but irritating, leaving an unpleasant tingling sensation across his skin, almost like pain. He gritted his teeth and said nothing, but Octavia could see his discomfort and she cringed in sympathy. "It'll be okay," she said softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze.

Before he even realised he was doing it, Bellamy had seized her wrist and then her arm, hauling her close to him. "I can't do this," he said urgently.

Octavia frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I can't do this, O… it's too awful. I'm going to die. Please… I need it."

She shook her head. "No you don't, Bell. I promise you're not going to die… we're keeping you safe. Clarke's taking really good care of you."

He felt an overwhelming surge of anger rise up in his chest and he was appalled by an intense desire to hurt her- hit her, strangle her, anything- just because she wouldn't give him what he wanted. He let go of her, giving her a little shove so she staggered out of his reach. "Stay away from me," he snapped- he'd meant it as a warning, but he'd said it with anger and immediately he saw the hurt flash through her eyes, watched her pushed it away.

"You're going to be okay," she said firmly. "Just calm down and-"

"Octavia, I need it!" he exploded, yelling at her. "You don't understand!"

"I know it feels like that, but-"

"Goddammit, no, don't you get it?! I'm going to die! You're killing me!" Even as he yelled at her, he felt the panic rising up from his stomach, as though with each word he spoke, the statement became even truer.

He really felt like he was going to die- his body was shaking, his skin clammy with sweat, his heart pounding in his ears, his vision tunneled and darkening. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit, and none of it was in his control. The room was spinning, tumbling around, and the anxiety was overwhelming.

Octavia crept close to him again and he tried to grab her, wanted to hurt her for denying him what he needed. "You're killing me!" he yelled at her, his anger suddenly ramping up unpredictably. "After everything I've done for you… after you ruined everything! After you made me a prisoner in my own life and killed Mom!"

Octavia cringed as though he'd struck her and backed away, crying now, shaking her head.

Clarke rushed in, obviously drawn by his yelling, and she put a hand on Octavia's shoulder and said softly, "It's okay, he's not himself, he doesn't mean that."

Octavia pulled in a breath and let it out, nodding. "I need some air." She shrugged out of Clarke's touch and didn't even look in his direction before she left the room.

"Clarke," Bellamy said, trying to get a handle on his breathing as he told her, "We were wrong, I'm not going to make it. I need a little Red, okay? Just to help me through this… just until I feel better, or I'm going to die."

"If I give you more, you're never going to feel better," she said calmly, standing well out of his reach. "You know that."

"No, we were wrong," he said urgently, pulling at his restraints, wishing he could break them. "Clarke, I need it."

She said nothing; she just checked his vitals on the monitors, made some notes on her clipboard, and ignored him. It was infuriating. "Are you enjoying this?" he asked savagely.

That got her attention. Her eyes were full of pain as she looked at him and whispered, "Of course not."

"I bet you are," he growled, no more able to stop himself from hurting her as he'd been able to stop himself from hurting Octavia. "I bet you like this- getting to play doctor. Experiment on me."

Clarke shook her head and said, "This isn't you." He wondered if she was trying to convince him, or herself. "You don't mean any of that… you're lashing out because we won't give you what you want. We just have to get through this, Bellamy, and then you'll be fine."

"Dammit, I can't!" he yelled, and suddenly he was crying. "Clarke, I'm serious… I'm going to die."

"No you aren't," she said gently. "Your vitals-"

"That monitor is wrong!" he insisted. "I can feel what's happening in my own body, Clarke!"

She crossed her arms over her chest and said, "I can get you anything but Red. Are you hungry?"

"No," he snapped. "I don't need food, I need Red." He drew in a deep breath and tried to calm down. "Clarke, listen to me," he said, forcing his tone to be gentle now. "You know I don't want to take it. You know I don't want to be on that stuff. So I wouldn't be saying this unless it was true- I need it. Just a little bit, to take the edge off. Just give me a quarter of a dose." When she shook her head he begged, "An eighth?"

Clarke shook her head. "You're saying that because you're an addict," she said tenderly. "But soon you won't be, and you'll be glad I didn't give you any. I know this is hard because you've been on it so long, but it's going to be okay. It just feels awful- but you're safe, I promise."

Bellamy felt his body go rigid and he arched his back, hauling his arms and legs against the restraints as hard as he could, over and over, trying to break them. Clarke took a step back, watching him carefully, but the restraints held. Still, he kept trying until he was totally exhausted. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was Clarke watching him closely, her arms crossed over her chest, a deeply disturbed expression on her face. The last thought he had was how much he wanted to kill her.