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Bellamy kept his eyes on her for as long as possible, watching until her silhouette was swallowed up by the night, before turning his attention to the crowds of angry people making their way towards him and his friends. A part of him wanted to turn back around and run after Clarke, but he knew that wasn't the plan. He needed to stay here; she was going with Russel back to space. That was the plan. A plan that once again involved them being separated. Normally that wouldn't bother him as much as it did right now, but the memory of almost losing Clarke still burned strongly in the back of his mind.
She would be okay. He knew that right now he needed to focus his attention on not dying outside in the mob of angry people, and instead, on getting inside the container his friends had found to take shelter in. At first, they were worried that the container doors wouldn't hold, but as the bangs and shouts of those on the outside infected by the red sun toxin continued, they realized that there was no way anyone was getting through the doors, and everyone inside the container was able to relax slightly. Despite all the noise surrounding him from outside, and the constant chatter of his friends from inside the container, he found his mind drifting off to a place he was all too familiar with, a place where he worried about Clarke. Leaning back against the container wall, he could feel a familiar sensation of worry bubbling up inside of him; after everything, they had been through, and the number of times he had almost lost her, he couldn't believe he had just let her walk away so easily this time.
Except for this time, it wasn't as much worry as it was regret. While he was worried about whether her plan would work and she would make it out alive, he also wished he had gone with her. Not because Clarke needed protecting – she was more than capable of handling herself, but instead because even if she survived, the thought of losing her yet again was almost too much to handle. Because there was something he wanted to, no, needed to tell her. He hoped he would have the chance.
Bellamy's eyes drifted around the container; standing directly opposite him was Echo. While this wasn't the right time, like he had promised himself back in Gabriel's hideout there was a conversation he needed to have with her. But not now.
Right now, he could only think about Clarke.
When they first met, he had hated her. Well, that wasn't quite true, He thought he had hated her, but, even from their first day on the ground, a part of him had always admired her courage.
The first time he had noticed some type of feeling, although at the time he had blamed it on the infamous jobi nuts, was when they had taken a day trip in search of a supply bunker. As they'd walked through the empty fields, he had found that even her presence had helped calm his mind. Helping her position the rifle, well, that had stirred up a whole new bunch of feelings that Bellamy had been determined to push aside. He would somethings think back to that day and wonder how different things would be if he hadn't stayed, no, correction, if Clarke hadn't convinced him to stay. Would he have survived? He couldn't be sure. But he would've been spared the pain of watching his friends and his people die in countless wars that could've been easily avoided. If he'd left then, though, he wouldn't have had the chance to get to know Clarke. Despite all the pain and suffering that followed in the years to come, what he had with Clarke, the bond that had formed between them, that was something he wouldn't trade for either of the worlds he had now lived on.
Spending six years in space had given him a lot of time to think about his time on the ground; while he was grateful that they'd made it out before Praimfaya had hit, he couldn't help but think about the people he had left behind. Things on the ring had been simpler, without a doubt. There had been no wars to fight, no goodbyes to be said, just the seven of them trying to get along. But it should've been eight. Clarke should have been there with them. They all knew it, but every day on the ring he would take a couple of minutes to look out from one of the windows down at earth, and hope that even if it seemed impossible, they would eventually meet again. Afterall, goodbyes between them never seemed to stick.
He'd watched Clarke leave too many times, each time hurting slightly more than the last, but each just as unbearable. Some of those times were out of his control, and other times he wished he'd done more.
The first time they'd been separated, he hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye. Watching the dropship door close, seeing the fear and regret etched on Clarke's face as she searched in the crowd for him and Finn, that was a look he'd tried many times to forget, each time unsuccessful. He had known then, that this wasn't the last time he would see her, but that did nothing to ease his qualms. Even when they had found each other again, he only allowed himself a brief moment of happiness before turning his attention to fighting the war against the Mountain Men. He wished he'd allowed himself more time.
Mount Weather. That was something he was more than happy to forget. What they had to do to survive in there, what had been done to their people, that was almost too painful to recall. The actions they had just taken to save their friends would haunt them for the rest of their lives. But Bellamy had thought, really thought, that they would be able to get through it together. They would be able to count on each other for support and they would have time to slowly come to grips with everything that had happened, and to heal. For a minute, everything had seemed like it would eventually be okay. And then it wasn't. Standing there, hearing those words ‘I'm not going in', had made him realize that perhaps this was it for them. Another goodbye.
As he watched her walk away, the morning sun causing a slight halo to form around her golden hair, he wondered if this time, this would be it. The ground was a dangerous place, and while Clarke had an impressive set of survival skills, there was no knowing what dangers lay ahead. He wanted to run after her, to go with her, but he knew that wasn't what she wanted, and truth be told, it wasn't what he wanted either. It didn't make it any easier though; a lump catching in his throat as he tried to call out after her, but instead of words leaving his mouth, all he could do was let out a quiet sob. A part of him understood Clarke's actions, yet another part of him felt betrayed. Both parts hurt like hell.
It had taken a while to move past that; ultimately the feeling of betrayal had won him over and in the resulting time between her leaving and them finally reuniting, some not so pleasant things had happened – mistakes he wished he could undo. A part of him had wondered if he would ever be able to fully forgive her, but as she lay attached to an IV, the night blood coming from Ontari the only thing keeping Clarke alive, he realized that he hadn't been angry at her for leaving, he had been angry at himself for not being there for her when she needed the support. She had done so much to protect him, and when she had returned to Arkadia, when they both had needed each other's support, he had pulled back. He had let her down and he never wanted to make that mistake again. After they had finally saved the world, he had, yet again, thought that things would be different, but like always they were immediately faced with yet another life-threatening situation and the time he had thought they would have slowly slipped through his fingers. Goodbyes had never been easy, but Bellamy had come to realize that you were lucky if you even got the chance to say something at all. Bellamy had learnt that the hard way and some of those memories would forever haunt his dreams.
Yes, they'd been through hell; they'd suffered and fought both wars against the world and each other. He'd left her, she'd left him, and they had both, inadvertently, caused each other so much pain, but, despite all that pain and loss, there was a whole lot of good memories too.
When Bellamy had first seen Clarke after she had escaped from Mount Weather, well, it was the first time he had been at a loss for words. While a part of him had known that she was still out there, he had feared he would never see her again. So when he saw her running towards him, her face, despite being covered in cuts and bruises, still as beautiful as it had always been, he tried to get the words out but found himself choking on the emotion that they carried. Instead, he relaxed into her embrace, allowing the rest of the world to melt away around them. Another time, he had told himself. Tears had already begun to prickle in the corners of his eyes and he didn't want the salt to get into the cuts on his face. That was the reason he tried to tell himself, anyway, but no matter how many times he repeated it, he knew it was only a lie he had told himself at the time to protect him from a much more painful truth.
Sitting around the fire not long after Finn's death, he had found his gaze drifting over towards where Clarke lay, sleeping peacefully. As the golden light from the fire flickered across her face, Bellamy couldn't help but notice how untroubled she looked; the world had been cruel to her, and he hoped that one day she would finally be able to live a life full of happiness. They had talked that night too, and Bellamy had felt his heartbeat just that tiny bit faster. He knew nothing was going to happen, but the moment they had shared just before Octavia had woken up had felt so genuine and pure that it had really given him hope that one day, something more may happen. Hope was all he needed.
But hope could be cruel – there was nothing worse than having it only to lose it. With the death wave fast approaching, he, Clarke, and Jaha had left on a mission to find an old nuclear bunker with the hopes that it would be able to save all their people. This had been their last chance, a chance to avoid having to make decisions that should never have to be made, and they'd failed. There was no bunker. Their dreams of the survival of their people disappeared the moment they had opened that door.
He'd woken up that evening to find Clarke having almost finished the list of the 100 – not the delinquents that were sent to the ground, but instead, if they were unable to find a new solution, the list which decided which of the 400 people from the Ark were allowed safety inside Arkadia, and who would have to be left outside. It was a grueling task, no one should have to decide who lives and who dies, but it was a set of choices which were continuously thrust upon Clarke. As he had walked over, he could remember seeing one space left on the list, Clarke's hand hovering over it, shaking slightly, as she questioned who should take the final spot. He knew what she would be thinking, do I deserve to live? Bellamy could answer that for her. Perhaps, at that moment, he had been thinking with his heart, not his head, but ultimately the choice to write her name down on the list was more than just a selfish one. Clarke had become their leader, time and time again she had saved them all and while not everyone recognized that, he knew that without her they would be unable to survive. She was the person who people looked to, to make the hard choices. She was so strong, and that was something these people would need if they wanted to survive five years.
There wasn't a lot he had felt sure of then, but the one thing that he knew with the utmost certainty was that she deserved to be on that list. As she rested her head against his hand placed on her shoulder, he wished that they could just stay like this forever. For the list to be tucked away, something they didn't have to worry about again. Maybe Praimfaya won't come, and they can finally return to a normal life. Ha. If only.
The moment they had shared in the lab before Praimfaya, was a memory that burned so strongly in his mind that every detail felt as clear as it had been the day it happened. The six years he had been on the ring he played that memory over and over and over, holding on to what he thought was the last moment he would ever share with Clarke. As they had stood at the railing, looking down at the Rocketship that they would fly back to space in, he had really thought they were going to make it. Having already said goodbye to their loved ones in the bunker, and all dressed up in those awful radiation suits, they both knew that this was it; there was no going back now.
They'd stood, mere inches apart, and he'd watched as her eyes had begun to glisten with tears, struggling to get the words out. The way she had talked had made it sound like they would never see each other again. As they talked, he could tell that she was holding herself back; that there was more that she wanted to say but couldn't. He tried, too, to say what he had been holding onto for so long, but every time he opened his mouth the words just wouldn't come out, and once again he had found him telling himself that it was okay because he would have many more opportunities to tell her all the things he so desperately wanted to say and that once they were safe on the ring maybe it would be easier to finally say them. But maybe wasn't enough to save her, and he had found the moment slipping through his fingers.
When she'd placed her hand on his heart, he had hoped she hadn't noticed it begin to beat faster. Whether she did or not, he would never know, but as they embraced, he could feel her hands clasp behind his back, and he knew they both never wanted to let go. For a fleeting moment, he felt safe like everything would be okay. What he hadn't known at the time was this hug would ultimately end up would be their last, until he returned to earth once again. They'd spent so long together that it had become impossible to imagine living a world without Clarke. But that was the world he was about to find himself living in.
A part of him always hated how much time he had wasted that day being angry at her for what had happened in the bunker. As they had talked in the van, even with their helmets on he could see the regret in her eyes, her voice wobbling as she spoke to him, struggling to hold back the tears. He had known then that he couldn't stay angry at her. After all, she had only been trying to save her people. Things had been so good then, despite the ever-looming threat of the world ending, the time that they had between that conversation and their final one in the lab had once again given him the hope that in the six years they had been about to spend together in space, things might change. Tomorrow was never guaranteed on the earth, Bellamy knew that. But for some reason, a part of him had always felt like he had all the time in the world to tell her how he felt.
Then the world ended.
A part of him had always wondered, what if? What is he had told her when he had the chance when they were alone in Becca’s lab? Would that have made a difference? What if he had gone with her to the tower? Maybe if he had stayed, she wouldn't have spent six years alone. Maybe, if he'd just had the courage to tell her how he felt, he wouldn't have spent six years thinking about how he was too late.
He had been hung upside down and drained of his blood, covered in acid rain, been beaten and bruised more times than he could count, but nothing compared to the pain of looking down on the earth knowing he had left Clarke to die.
The moment he had seen Clarke again for the first time in six years, he was sure that he had been hallucinating. Maybe he'd drunk a funny batch of Monty's algae before they left, maybe somehow he had ingested some jobi nuts – he wasn't entirely sure, but despite Madi telling him, multiple times, that Clarke was alive and how she had, in fact, survived the death wave, he was still struggling to comprehend it by the time he arrived at the camp where the prisoners had set up base. He'd never thought he would see her again. He really, genuinely thought he'd lost her, and now she was here, after all this time, she was really, truly here. She was bruised and battered, but she was alive. Alive. There was so much he had wanted to tell her, and this time, since the earth wasn't dying, he thought they would have time.
He had finally thought things might be a little smoother for them from here on out, it's not like they could get any more complicated than they already were. But he should've learnt by now that things were never easy for them, and it wasn't long until he found himself betraying Clarke to save all their people, and then her consequently leaving him in Polis to die in the fighting pits. He knew that she had only been trying to protect Madi, but her leaving again didn't do anything to help the pain.
When Madi had told him that Clarke had radioed him every day for six years and seven days, he was sure he felt his heart stop beating for a moment. His whole body went numb, as so many different emotions filled his brain. He had turned back to look at Clarke, her distant figure slightly distorted by the falling raindrops. Six years. While he had tried to move on, she had never given up hope that they would meet again.
The rain which fell heavily did well to disguise the tears which slowly trickling down his face. The air was crisp; the fog rolling in from the surrounding hills had brought with it an unpleasant coolness, which, accompanied by the rain, had up until that moment, left an unpleasant chill crawling across his skin. But now, a strange warmth radiated out from his chest, the energy pulsing through his veins, and the anger towards Clarke that he had felt just minutes ago slowly became a distant memory. Because, despite all the emotions whirling around inside of him, there was one that stood out stronger than the rest. Love. He'd tried to push down his emotions since reuniting with her, but this was making it so much harder.
But life had continued to move forward, and he hardly had any time to fully process his emotions before he had found himself climbing into his cryo pod. He had forgiven Clarke, and he'd told her that too, but he could see in her eyes that she didn't quite believe him. And once again, he found himself promising that once this was all over, once they were back on the earth, he would finally work up the courage to say what needed to be said. As he had laid on the surprisingly comfy bumpy padding in the pod, he had thought about Madi's question to Clarke - would the dream when they were asleep, and he had found himself wondering the same question? Would he? If he did, he knew what it would be about. Or rather, who.
125 years later, as the two of them stood at the window, looking down on what would become their new home, arms wrapped tightly around one another as tears streamed down their faces, Bellamy had realized that they finally might've found peace. Monty and Harper had given their lives to help them find a new home, and with that, a renewed sense of hope. Monty wanted them to do better, to not have to fight anymore to survive. It sounded nice. Almost too good to be true.
For a short while, Sanctum had seemed that way. The bright colors, happy people, the two glorious suns which lay high in the sky above them, the air inside Sanctum that was filled with a sense of tranquility that Bellamy hadn't felt in a very long time. Maybe Monty was right, and this really could become a new home for them. After all, they deserved some peace, didn't they?
The evening he'd seen Clarke on the dance floor, smiling and laughing, he had not felt so happy in a very long time. It was weird, but for so long all everyone had tried to do was survive, they hadn't had the opportunity to live. Now, as he watched her twirled around in circles, the rich blue dress giving off a slight shimmer in the dimmed lights, he had wondered if they could finally be content – they would build their new compound and they could live, as cheesy as it sounded to him, happily ever after. He knew that was only a thing mentioned in fairy tales, but this place felt so magical that maybe it was possible. Maybe they had finally found a place where they could do more than just survive.
Then she died.
The night Bellamy had found out about her death, he felt everything crumble around him. It was like all the color had been sucked from the world around him; everywhere he looked he could only see darkness. All the other times he had lost her, the tiniest part of him had always held hope that she was still alive. But they all knew what the Primes did to their hosts, and he really believed that there was no coming back from this. This time, it was permanent. He'd had a second chance, and he wasted it, making the same mistakes he did back before Praimfaya. The emotions he felt suffocated him; pain, anger, loss, they pressed heavily down on his chest, making it hard to breathe. Did he even want to live, in a world without Clarke? He wanted to make the Primes suffer, make them feel the same pain he was feeling right now, but as badly as he wanted to do that, he knew he never could – it isn't what she would've wanted. Maybe, with time, he could learn to accept her death, but the unspoken words he had held back for so long would forever haunt his dreams.
But as suddenly as he'd lost her, he had realized that she wasn't, in fact, truly gone and there was still a chance to get her back. She could still be saved. Bellamy knew he would do anything to get her back. Even if it meant dragging her through the woods to find someone, he wasn't sure existed. It was a risk, but one that he was willing to take. Clarke was too important to lose.
As they had waited in the cave, him and Josie in Clarke's body, he could remember the feeling of anxiousness creeping down his spine, slowly taking control of all his emotions. The desperation he had felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, because he knew that if he lost Clarke again then he would lose everything. Time was not on their side; there wasn't much of it left, and truth be told, he had not been sure they were going to make it. So, when Josie told him that Clarke could hear him, he knew that it could be the last time he ever got a chance to say anything to her. So much, so, so much he wanted, needed to say, yet all he managed was I won't let you die. The silence that had settled between them after he said that was enough to let him know that both Josie and Clarke had known what he was really trying to say, masked by what he had actually said. But he had tried not to ponder for too long on that, instead, running through different scenarios in his head of all the things that could go wrong before they made it to Gabriel's, all the ways in which he could lose Clarke. They made it in time, albeit not together, and by the time Bellamy had arrived Josephine was already back in control. This time, he wouldn't get a goodbye.
Just as it started to seem like she would be okay, Bellamy watched her die.
Not like this.
He could hardly remember Octavia trying to pull him back, telling him that she was gone, the look of despair in Gabriel's eyes knowing he had failed Bellamy, no, the only thing Bellamy had been focused on was not giving up on Clarke. For all the things that had happened in their lives, the one thing Clarke had never done was give up easily. He knew, somehow, he just knew, that this was not the end of her story, that she was still in there, fighting. She was going to come back. He could feel it. The heart and the head, yeah? Yeah. He wasn't sure how long he had been trying to bring her back before she gasped for air, nor did he know how long she had been dead for, but then and there, the only thing that mattered was that she was alive. Clarke. Not Josephine, but Clarke. The person he loved.
When they had last hugged, the morning after he had almost lost her once again, he had wanted to hold her tight and never let go. He hadn't realized how afraid of losing her again he was, and now, with her in his arms, everything became crystal clear. God, he'd thought they had all the time in the world. They'd found this seemingly tranquil land and people who were willing to help them, and he'd found himself wondering that maybe, just maybe, with time things could change again.
His relationship with Echo was important to him; they'd spent six years together on the arc and Echo had become his family. But what he had with Clarke, it wasn't something that was quite as easy to describe – even he wasn't entirely sure what it was, but he knew that it was something worth fighting for. He didn't want to hurt Echo, she'd suffered through a lot in her life too and he didn't want to be one more person to hurt her. But it wouldn't be fair on her if he stayed in a relationship that he was no longer invested in. As soon as he was back in Sanctum and things had settled down, he would tell Echo what needed to be said. He knew Echo would understand - a part of him knew that Echo probably knew that their time had come too. They had been good for one another on the Ark; they had helped each other survive, had been there for one another through all the highs and lows of six years in space, but down here, things were different.
Now, they got a second chance at life, and he wanted to do things differently. 131 years ago, he had left the person he loved behind on a burning planet. He'd made the mistake of never telling her how he felt. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
The plan that he, Clarke, Octavia, and Gabriel had come up with didn't go accordingly, and yet again he had found himself saying goodbye to Clarke.
So here he was, locked inside a giant metal container which while it protected him from the chaos outside, it did nothing to protect him from his thoughts. Not that it was all bad, though, the time spent inside had helped him realize something had known for a long time, but something he had been too afraid to act on.
He'd never felt so sure of something in his life. Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Maybe it should be. For so long he'd done his best to put his people first and to not let his emotions dictate his actions. But he was tired of telling himself it wasn't the right time. Would it ever be? Making excuses to himself was not going to change the way he felt about Clarke. It had taken him a while to understand how he felt, and even longer to truly accept what it meant. Without Clarke, there was no color in his life. She made everything brighter – her smile was so infectious she could cheer him up even on the worst of days, and when he looked into her eyes he no longer felt scared of what was to come; there was something about their relationship that made him feel like when they were around each other, he was safe.
He realized now, perhaps too late, that the time they had left was too precious to waste. There was never going to be the right place or the right time. But he knew he couldn't spend the rest of his life wondering, if only. He loved her. It had taken a while to realize it, but he really loved her.
Three words. It was just that simple.
Bellamy just hoped it wouldn't be too late.