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All she saw was red.
His blood.
Nothing else. Just the red of the liquid that had poured from him onto her hand.
After she had returned to the others, not even bothering to acknowledge Commander Lexa, she had found water and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until her hand was raw with a different kind of red.
Ignoring the voices calling out to her, she had escaped to the sanctity of her cot, where she now lay, her hand underneath her back so as to avoid looking at it. She could still smell it, all of it, his blood, him. But she knew that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop breathing to stop the stench. And even as she closed her eyes, the sight was still there. The blood. The mass of dark hair hanging over the bent body. The grounders’ shocked and angry expressions. Her comrades’ pitiful faces. Raven’s rage and despair.
All of it blurred.
She took her other hand and rubbed at her face repeatedly, hard and fast, desperate to erase the visage of it all, of what’s she’s done.
No. No. No. No.
NO!
She suddenly felt two large, strong hands wrap around her own, pulling it away from her face. Her eyes shot open, though she was unable to make out the figure’s face, and she squirmed under the touch.
“Clarke! Clarke, calm down, it’s okay. It’s just me. It’s okay.”
She stilled at the familiar baritone voice, and then recognized the silhouette of curls and a strong, straight frame. She relaxed a little under his presence and hung her head, unafraid of his judgment.
“What are you doing here, Bellamy?” She wasn’t surprised that her voice sounded as broken as she felt. She reluctantly pulled her other hand out from under her back but dared not to look at it.
After a few moments of silence, she looked up for his response. But she didn’t get one. Perhaps he didn’t want to tell her. Perhaps he didn’t know. He just sighed, his expression sad but thoughtful, and sat on the edge of her cot.
He didn’t let go of her hand.
“Clarke…I don’t know if this will change anything, but you did what you had to do. For everyone.” His voice was slow yet firm.
She furrowed her eyebrows, angry at his pity. “You don’t have to justify what I did, Bellamy.”
He looked for her eyes and shook his head. “No, that’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m just stating the truth. No matter what everyone else says, you did what was right. You saved us all. You tried to save him, and in a way, you did. Clarke, if you hadn’t done what you did, the grounders would have burned him and tortured him. You spared all of us even more pain. If anything, you gave him a merciful death."
Clarke remembers the words that still echo throughout her mind.
Thanks, Princess.
More tears appeared at them. He sounded so broken, so vulnerable. Like he was already dead when he said it.
Nothing sounded sadder than his last words.
Bellamy ran his thumbs across the back of her hand but didn’t say anything.
“Like with Atom,” she whispered, finally meeting his searching eyes.
His eyes softened at her words and her broken gaze. “Like with Atom,” he repeated, nodding his head slightly.
His hands on her own felt warm and comforting, but they didn’t wash away what happened.
“I’ll have to live with what I’ve done for the rest of my life,” she muttered, her voice devoid of any emotion. However long that’ll be.
Bellamy’s hands tightened a fraction around her hand. “We’ve all done things down here that we regret. Those things, though, don’t make us who we are,” he said softly. “It’s how we deal with those things in the aftermath.”
She inwardly laughed at the irony – she had said something similar to Finn earlier.
Clarke lowered her eyes to their hands and squeezed back. Bellamy understood well the pain and self-loathing. He had felt it with Dax. It made her feel not quite so alone, but this was different. This was Finn.
She knew she would have to live with this night for all of the following ones after this. And for that, she was afraid of closing her eyes. Afraid of her subconscious.
A feminine voice interrupted her thoughts. “Hey, Clarke,” Octavia called from the entrance. Bellamy let go of her hands and stood. “Your mother and Kane wanted to let you know that the Commander is meeting with us tomorrow to discuss the newfound peace and war against the Mountain Men.”
Clarke nodded in acknowledgement and Octavia turned to leave but stopped at Clarke’s voice. “Octavia, how is..how is Raven?”
Octavia turned back around and smiled sadly at her. “She’s with Wick right now. She’s not talking, but I’d give her some time before going to her. She’s pretty unstable right now."
Clarke nodded robotically. “I understand.”
Octavia returned the nod and disappeared.
When she was sure Octavia was gone, Clarke clutched at her forehead and felt fresh, hot tears pour down her cheeks, almost as fast as the blood that –
She thought there was no room for sadness for Raven due to her remorse. But she was wrong. She couldn’t imagine what Raven was going through. Raven lost the only family she had. Clarke hated this whole thing. The Grounders. Earth. Finn. Herself.
She didn’t want to be the leader she was and move on. Not yet. She didn’t want to be strong right now. She wanted to cry. So, she stuck her right hand back underneath her and cried.
Bellamy laid his hand on her shoulder and sat back down. He let her cry all of it out. He didn’t say anything. He just sat there and let her cry. Until all of her tears added up to the blood lost from the Collins boy.