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Clarke didn’t see the shot that took Bellamy down but she felt it rip through her heart as though it was her that had taken the bullet.
She thinks she screams as she watches him fall but she’s so focused on getting to him, has to get to him now, that she only registers what happens next when her hands are dragging him into her lap and her fingers are cradling his cheeks.
He coughs and she almost weeps because he’s still with her, she hasn’t lost him and he hasn’t been torn from her forever.
“Bellamy! Hey, hey! Stay with me!” She’s panicking, trying to focus but all she sees is red seeping through his once blue shirt. She vaguely registers that there’s too much red, then promptly dismisses it because, no. No, she will not lose him.
“Well, shit.” He grimaces, lets out a sigh as his body sinks back into hers.
Bellamy groans, gritting his teeth as a tremor of pain ricochets through his body. “Dying is a lot more painful than I thought it would be.” He tries to chuckle but it’s cut short as he starts to choke on the blood rising from his throat.
“You are not dying! I’m going to fix this, just stay awake!” She’s scrambling to put pressure on the wound in his chest as he lurches forward to spit blood onto the ground. It’s too close to the heart, way too fucking close.
“I don’t think I’m walking away from this one, Clarke.” He grabs the hand she’s currently pressing into his chest, covers it with his own and squeezes weakly, his other hand rising to cup her cheek.
“Yes you are, Bellamy! You are!” She squeezes back and clings to him desperately, pushes her cheek into his hand more firmly, uses his touch to ground herself so she can think. She just needs a second to think and she can save him. She’ll keep him here by pure force of will if she has to. She will not let him go.
“You can’t save everyone.” Bellamy’s eyes are becoming glassy as he fights to keep them on her face, smiling even through his pain.
“I can save you.” She swears, bending forward to press her forehead into his.
“You already did, princess. Every day since we met.” His voice gets weaker, losing its volume as he talks.
She weeps at the familiar nickname, feels his hand start to lose its grip on hers as he begins to slip away.
“No! I love you! I love you, Bellamy, please, please, don’t leave me!” She pulls back to meet his eyes one last time, begging anything that will listen to just give them a little more time.
“Love you too.” He smiles, half agony, half joy. Shudders, breath catching as she leans in to press her lips to his.
Clarke feels him return the pressure for a few precious seconds before he exhales against her mouth and goes limp, hand falling from her face.
She knows she screams then.