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He couldn’t sleep.
His head was tainted with with the faces of 320 people who died, because of him. God, he didn’t even know what the hell they looked like, but their faces still ran amuck everytime he closed his eyes.
He knew he should have accepted Kristina’s offer of “riding her higher than the moon”, he would of at least burned some energy, making it harder for him to resist sleep. But when she asked, the word “no” slipped out without him even knowing, as if it were second nature.
And Kristina, obviously hurt from the sudden rejection of their routine, bitterly asked, “Since when did Bellamy Blake deny having a good time?” Walking away, he found himself asking the same question, but he already knew the answer.
Since he started noticing how beautiful a certain blonde’s smile was.
Roughly running a hand over his face, eliciting a groan, Bellamy decided he needed some fresh air. Laying down and thinking about Clarke’s smile was not going to help him fall asleep.
It would just cause confusion in the already fucked up brain of his. Images of the blonde’s, face flushed with happiness, looking carefree, which was important because Clarke was never carefree, were problematic. Because they caused Bellamy to wonder how he could make her smile, make her feel carefree.
He quickly got up, shaking his head as he made his way out of the tent, as if shaking his head was going to shake her from his thoughts.
It didn’t work.
It seemed to do the exact opposite actually, being that Clarke was exactly who he saw as he surveyed his surroundings, sitting in front of her tent, mindlessly playing with her fingers.The night was cool, but the golden halo of her hair brought a certain warmness to it.
Oh, god. He rolled his eyes at his sappy inner thought.
“Everything alright, Princess?”
The deep tenor of his voice caused her to jump, steering her away from her thoughts.
“Oh, hey, didn’t notice you there.” She said looking up at him with glossy eyes,and a shadow of a slight smirk playing at her lips.
She looked tired, but he knew it wasn’t from the mountain of patients she had that day, or from the stress of the ever growing problem with the grounders. This type of tired was from being too tired to fall asleep, just like him.
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Hmm?”
“I asked if you were alright.”
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, yeah I’m fine, I just need some sleep, it seems to be escaping me.” Casting her eyes down, she sighed. She too had been plagued with formidable thoughts and couldn’t count how many times she tried to force herself to fall asleep that night.
"You wanna go for a walk?" Bellamy asked nervously, swallowing hard.
Clarke sent him a quizzical look. Why the hell did he want to go on a walk with her? Sure, they weren’t jumping at each other’s throat anymore but they weren’t exactly friends either … were they?
"It’s just, I can’t sleep either, and I was gonna go for a walk, and since you look like you need to get away from here for awhile, I figured you could tag along, if you want, I mean."
He was babbling, she’d never seen him babble before. The sight of a nervous Bellamy was almost comical, and she would have teased him about it if she wasn’t so damn tired.
"Sure."
His eyes widened at her response, he didn’t think she would say no, but he didn’t expect her to say yes either. Maybe he wanted her to say yes so bad, that the reaction was just the same. God, he didn’t know.
"Good."
Clarke got up from the floor, dusted her hands and said, “Lead the way then.”
As they began walking, Clarke started feeling nervous. She’d been alone with Bellamy before, when they had to discuss matters of tactics and strategy to keep the camp from falling apart. But now they were walking away from the camp, and they didn’t need to speak about anything urgent, they both just needed alone time, which they were gonna spend … together.
She was going to be alone with Bellamy, like alone alone, and it was making her skittish.
The walk didn’t take long, and the two ended up by one of the far ends of the wall, away from the rest of the camp.
“Here we are. I usually come here to when I need to clear my head, usually at night though, so I could just stare at the stars, I know it’s lame, but it helps.” Bellamy said looking up at the sky, which was lit up with an array of stars.
Clarke looked up, immediately taken aback by the beauty of the sea of stars looming above her. She wanted to comment on how beautiful they were and tell him that it wasn’t lame at all, but her words got caught in her throat as a tear fell.
The sight reminded her of the crashing of the ship that happened three days prior, bringing up thoughts that had been haunting her that night, thoughts of her mother.
Her mother who probably burned to death, coming to see her.
Her mother who probably died thinking that her daughter hated her very existence.
Her mother who she never got to say sorry to.
Clarke tried really hard not to cry, she really did, especially not in front of him, but she couldn’t help the sob that escaped from her throat.
Bellamy had been too enamored with the stars to notice that she had been crying, it was the sob that caught his attention.
“Clarke?”
She didn’t even hear him, she had been so engulfed with guilt that all she could hear was the sound of her mother apologizing, begging her to forgive her.
Dropping to her knees, Clarke sobs became louder. “I’m so sorry, I’m so so so sorry. Oh, God, I’m sorry.”
Bellamy was taken aback, he’d never seen her this vulnerable before. She was always so strong, always put together.
“Clarke.” he repeated, whispering this time, the sight of her breaking down on the floor, was visibly hurting him.
“I’m sorry! Mom, can you hear me?! I’m so sorry. Mom, please!” She was banging on the soft dirt of the floor now, sobbing uncontrollably.
Bellamy couldn’t take it anymore, he dropped to his knees and pulled her into him. Clarke didn’t deserve any of the pain she was going through. He tried to comfort her that night, but she declared that he was okay and marched back into camp, quickly wiping her tears away.
Clarke didn’t pull away from Bellamy when he began to hold her, she just buried her head in the crook of his neck, and continued to cry.
“It’s all my fault, It’s all my fault. She tried to apologize, tried to tell me that she was sorry. And all I did was tell her to her that I was done with her, It’s my fault she died, all mine Bellamy.”
“Hey, It’s not your fault. Your mom wouldve been on that ship, whether you forgave her or not. Okay? You had nothing to do with it, Clarke, nothing.” He was trying to calm her down, running his hands through her hair, rubbing her back.
“I should have forgave her! Thats why I couldn’t sleep, all I could see was my father yelling at me, telling me that if I forgave her, then none of this would’ve happened. She died thinking that I hated her!” Clarke was pulling on the bottom of his shirt, as if it would bring him closer to her.
She needed support, comfort, him.
Bellamy slowly took her by the shoulders, and pulled away.
“Look at me.” He demanded, moving his hands to cup her face.
Clarke’s gaze was fixed on the floor, the absence of his warmth made her uneasy.
“Look at me.” He repeated. She slowly met her eyes with his. She had stopped crying, but her face still looked pained, and it caused Bellamy to form tears of his own.
“Now listen, your mom knew you loved her, not for one second did she think you hated her. You were hurt, and she knew that. She died knowing that her daughter loved her. So stop! Stop, blaming yourself, because in no way, shape, or form, was what happened your fault.”
He was crying now, the thoughts of his own sins were coming back to him. He thought it was ridiculous that Clarke felt like she played any part in her mother’s death, she had done nothing wrong, unlike him.
He had actually been the cause of death for 320 people, just so he could save his own ass. He was the guilty one, not her.
Clarke had noticed that Bellamy started crying, and their positions had changed. She was now the one holding him while he bawled, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, and he was now the one crying into her shoulder.
“I killed them, Clarke. I caused them to die. If I didn’t take out the radio from the pod those people would still be alive, they would still be with their families, breathing.”
Using the same maneuver that Bellamy had used moments before, Clarke held his face in her hands.
“That’s why you couldn’t sleep?”
He shook his head, “No.”
“I saw their faces every god damn time I closed my eyes. If I hadn’t been so selfish 320 people would still be alive right now …”
Bellamy continued to let out his anguish, but Clarke just blocked him out, and kissed him.
Bellamy paused wide eyed, the action throwing him off guard, before leaning into the kiss, pulling Clarke into him.
Soon all thought of his crimes vanished, it was as if she was his medicine, a remedy of some sorts.
Pulling away, Clarke rested her forehead on his.
“We’ll be okay.”