Work Text
Bellamy didn’t know a lot of things, but he knew he needed Clarke and he knew that no matter what he did, she was gone. He had left her behind. They were supposed to do everything together, that's how they worked. She was the head and he was the heart. She knew it, he knew it, heck even Murphy knew it. He was supposed to go to the satellite with her, they were supposed to send the signal and then get back to the rocket together. They were always supposed to be together, but here he was back in space without her. He left her on a world being ravished by fire, and if she survived she was alone. If she survived. He didn’t even know if she was alive or not. Walking around the Ark was a lot to get used to, of course he had grown up there but it wasn’t the same place now. When on the ground, he had imagined what his life would be like on the Ark if he knew the people he did now. If he knew Monty and Harper, who were meant to be together. If he was friends with Raven, who had been through so much in the time that they were on the ground but she hadn’t let that stop her. If he knew Murphy, their resident cockroach who slowly grew on everyone until they couldn’t imagine life without him. He imagined meeting Clarke, of calling her princess and picking on her. He imagined getting to know her, not as one of the 100 sent to the ground to die, but as the girl who loved to draw and wanted to save people. He imagined what it would be like to have a life with Clarke on the ark, to think that they would’ve been together if they had met in space. He had spent countless nights imagining life on the ark, but in each one Clarke was always there. And now she wasn’t and Bellamy didn’t know what to do. He spent a lot of time at the bay window facing Earth, watching the fire ravage the planet he loved, the planet that tried its best to kill them. The planet that he left the love of his life on, the one that killed her. He had found a bottle of whiskey in Jaha’s old room. It was labeled ‘The Baton’ and it was to be opened when they went back to the ground. Now was as good a time as ever, seeing as they were probably never getting back to the ground. Raven had said they didn’t have enough fuel to land safely without killing everyone. He sat in that window, drinking to the memory of Clarke. They were supposed to get drinks together, she promised they would but here he was, alone. He saw her everywhere, and everytime he looked out that window, he could hear her. So he sat at the bay window, listening to Clarke tell him how he inspired people, how she knew he did everything for Octavia, how he had to use his head. He drank to the ghost of Clarke Griffin, who would haunt him till the day he died. The day Bellamy had left Clarke to die on Earth, was the day that Bellamy himself changed. Every choice he had to make, every plan that failed, every mistake, and every achievement was made thinking of Clarke, and how she would decide. Every night he went to bed though, he thought of every moment they had together. He thought of the first time they met, when he went to open up the drop ship doors and she told him the air might be poison. He thought of Clarke running up and hugging him after she thought he was gone. He thought of pulling the lever in Mount Weather, and he thought of her forgiving him when he thought he was a monster. Clarke was his better half, she kept him centered and from making mistakes he couldn’t come back from. He remembered Jaha saying he kept her grounded, and how crazy the idea was to him because she was the one who kept him grounded, she kept him from losing his way, not the other way around. He slept to one side of his bed, a habit he had picked up on from the many nights he and Clarke had spent awake far into the night while trying to figure out a way to stop praimfaya. They often shared the couch in the chancellor’s office, taking turns staying up trying to find a solution. He remembered the look on her face as she spent hours trying to find a way to save everyone. He remembered how upset she looked as she made the list, the list that chose who got to live and who got to die; and she put him down on that list. Clarke hadn’t bat an eyelash at writing Bellamy’s name down, but she couldn’t write her own. In some way, he realized she might have always planned to not make it out of praimfaya. He put her name down, he tried to keep her from switching suits with Echo, he tried to save her so many times. He loved her, and would do anything to keep her safe. He loved her. It was the first time he admitted it, even to himself, and he realized he’d never have the chance to tell her how he felt.
