we all die anyways x bellamy blake/the 100

22 / panacea

turn your pain
into power

song
my tears ricochet
taylor swift

——————
Charlie
——————

My feet crunch against the wreckage from the ship—metal, rocks.

Bones. Ashes.

The ship created a huge crater, dissolving any trees within a mile. The trees on the outskirts were charred, some still on fire.

I hadn't said a word since last night, but I had joined the group of twenty kids that went out to scope the crash. Clarke was apart of it. We had shared silent moments together in understanding and grief.

I felt sick to my stomach.

"You sure they should be out here?" I hear Finn ask Bellamy from my right. His voice was low—maybe he thought I couldn't hear him. Or maybe I wasn't his main concern and he didn't care if I heard. After all, his gaze was probably set on Clarke.

"Probably not." Bellamy responds. I could feel his eyes on me. "But they should see it."

"Charlie." Raven calls out from behind the boys. "You should be looking for a black box—you know what that is?"

I nod. Black boxes recorded any flight data. Why the ship crashed.

"Good."

I kick some rubble out of the way and am greeted by a charred skeleton, the face unidentifiable. I wonder if it was my father. My stomach flip-flops. I turn away and dart over to a large rock, vomit churning in my throat. I step behind the boulder, away from anyone else's sight for privacy. Bending over, I gag a couple times and my hair falls into my face.

From behind me, a strong hand pulls my locks out of my face and holds it behind me in a makeshift ponytail. The little breakfast I could eat this morning spills onto the rocks below me as I vomit.

The person behind me rubs my back softly with their free hand as I try to cough the feeling of retching away. I cover my mouth with the back of my palm, disgusted by the stomach matter on the rocks below me.

I stand, turning to face Bellamy. His rifle was swung around his back, out of the way. I didn't bring a gun. I couldn't even touch the knife on my hip. He hands me his water and I take a few grateful sips, swishing the water in my mouth before spitting it out.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly.

I nod.

"You haven't said a word since the crash."

I stay silent.

He sighs.

"I'm sending you back to camp, okay? I'll make Miller follow you."

I was too tired to protest having someone with a gun come with. I could handle myself, rifle or no rifle. Instead, I nod again. He starts walking back to Finn.

"Thank you." I whisper softly, finally. He turns around. "For everything you did for me."

I was embarrassed that Bellamy had to carry me inside the walls last night—I couldn't myself. He also let me hold my fingers on his wrist—counting his steady pulse, using it to calm my own. We must've stayed in the Drop-ship for hours, just me having a panic attack and him letting me listen to his pulse. Octavia was there as well, I think.

"There's no need to thank me, Charlie. You're worth it, okay?"

I look into the distance, watching as Clarke covers her nose at something foul she must've smelled.