Work Text:
This is your fault.
Bellamy screws his eyes shut, forcing his breathing to even out, his body to stay still, the tension of his shoulders to release.
This is your fault.
Very deliberately, Bellamy unclenches his teeth. He inhales through his nose.
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
Hold.
This is your fault.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
Exhale.
This is your fault.
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
This is your fault. This is your fault. Your fault. Your fault.
With a frustrated growl, Bellamy opens his eyes. He’s in a dilapidated ruin that, once upon a time might have been a tavern. He’s not hiding, per se, but he’s sitting behind the counter, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees.
He uncurls the fingers slowly. Deliberately.
Everything you do, you must do consciously, with purpose. To help Spacekru deal with the overwhelming weight of guilt, Echo taught them all how to meditate. Be aware of your body. Control your mind. Don’t let it drag you down paths you don’t want to tread.
He wants to scream. He inhales instead.
9
8
7
6
“I am guessing this is about Octavia.”
Bellamy raises his head to see Clarke sitting on top of the counter, her legs swinging a few centimeters from his head.
"This is my fault."
Clarke didn’t die for us to live and make the same mistakes, he told Murphy yesterday. And yet, here he is. Not two days on the ground and he’s already provoked a war. He’s lost two of his people. And the rest are at risk, hiding in a soon-to-be enemy-infested valley. He’s put his sister in danger again.
Every time he closes his eyes he sees the man jumping to intercept the canon’s blast, to protect Octavia. It should’ve been him. He should’ve moved. That’s his job.
“Sure it is,” says Clarke shrugging. There is a pause. She’ll know what to do; she was always the better leader, the better strategist. Oh, Gods, please, let her have a solution! “I mean you were charged with six people and didn’t murder over 30% of them, even though, knowing Murphy it must’ve been hard. Then you came down and saved my skin. Found a way to open the bunker and free everyone…”
“Nearly got my sister killed and started a war. Yes, I was there. Also, I might’ve just killed 30% of my people.”
“No. Diyoza said they were keeping them as insurance. They’re still alive. Plus it's Raven and Murphy. Raven's smart enough to get them out of any sticky situation. And Murphy's... Murphy's like weed, it never dies. They'll be fine.” She smiles down at him: soft and private. “Bellamy, no matter what your sister says, they’d be still down there, if it wasn’t for you.”
He doesn’t know how to answer. Guilt curses through his body. Once upon a time, it was easier to shoulder. He’s gone soft. He’s forgotten his purpose.
“Hey!” His attention snaps back to Clarke as she jumps from the counter and plops down in front of him. “Stop it! You made a gamble. It went wrong, that doesn’t mean the war was your fault.”
“I provoked her.”
“Raven should’ve told you they were trying to get the control of their ship back.”
“Why didn’t she?”
Clarke shrugs. “That is a problem for another day. Right now we need to reach the valley.”
Bellamy nods his head.
You’re a follower.
He pushes those thoughts back, back, back into the box in the back of his mind, where they’ve been securely stored for most of the past four years.
That’s when he remembers: He’s been through this. All this guilt and pain and despair.
He remembers that spacewalk with Raven in which his friend forced him to confront their truth: that he had done more good than harm; that he had protected his people to the best of his ability and that his shortcomings didn’t define him. Yes, some deaths were on him. But not all of them. Yes, he had gotten O thrown into lock-up, but he had also protected her all his life. He had given her everything he could and more and he deserved the recognition for what he had done: the good and the bad. He had the right to make mistakes.
It took him a long time to accept that. But Raven’s intervention and the support of the rest of the group helped him through that.
He frowns.
That’s why he didn’t jump in front of the sonic blast. Because over the past six years he’s discovered he has a life apart from Octavia. And his people need him more than Blodreina does.
He’s not going to war.
This is your fault, hisses his sister in his mind.
No. It isn’t.