Bellarke One Shots Book 2

72)Can you feel it coming back

In the aftermath, he never really understood when or how it had happened. Perhaps it was in that forest, her hair the color of gold and the sun streaming through the leaves, a dying boy at his feet and his heart in his throat. Perhaps it was when the shooting star that wasn't fell to the earth like some unholy gift from the heavens, and she had collapsed into him with a sob stealing her breath and her hands clutching at his shirt. But maybe it was later, too; maybe it was her arms locked around his neck and the feel of her soft body beneath him, her hair the only part of her visible to him - all that golden hair, the color of sunlight and brightness and joy. Or maybe it was fate: that from that first moment when she declared he couldn't open the door and he blatantly disregarded her, mostly out of spite, he was meant to be irrevocably doomed to her clutching his heart between her small palms.

(It was all of the above, his heart laughed at him, but Bellamy was pointedly ignoring that.)

(And she was gone, his brain reminded him, and he was ignoring that, too, and the pain that radiated from his sternum.)

He was king of the rebels but he would do anything she asked of him without question, so when she left and didn't want him to follow, he obeyed. When she asked, tears clinging to her lashes, words unspoken carved into the red lines crisscrossing her bloodshot eyes, for him to take care of them, he obeyed.

But then, about two months into her little break (it wasn't forever or goodbye or anything of that nature - he refused to think of that), Miller came stumbling back to the Ark with a body in his arms and horror on his face, and Bellamy felt the world that had been hoisted upon his shoulders crumble.

(It was the hair he recognized first. He would have known it anywhere.)

He sprinted to meet Miller at the gate, yelling at someone to get Dr. Griffin now, and when he saw her broken body - he didn't know how the fuck she was even still alive, honestly, her frame thin and haggard and blood oozing from a small gash on her leg, and another one dripping at the top of her skull. He ran shaky fingers over her hair (she's real she's real and she's here, oh fuck), and then directed his attention to Miller.

"What happened?" (His voice cracked. No one commented.)

"I'll explain once we get her inside."

Bellamy gently tugged her body from Miller's grasp without the latter's protest, and he noticed how easily they fell together, twin flames that could only find solace in the other. As soon as Bellamy turned Abby was directly in front of him. At once, the woman's face shifted from fear to horror to steel in a matter of seconds, and suddenly the relation to Clarke was so painfully obvious that he couldn't decide if it made him want to laugh or cry at the familiarity. "Bring her in," she ordered, turning to Miller as the three of them moved towards the med bay (the newly built one, for her, all of it for her), the rest of the hunting party scattering away. Miller began to talk as they moved, telling both of them about how they had been hunting, like normal, until one of the boys had gotten spooked and accidentally fired at a tiny movement he saw.

"It was... Uh... Obviously not intentional," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Next thing we heard was her scream and then she must've fallen and hit her head when the bullet struck."

Bellamy wasn't breathing. He saw fire and flames and utter, unadulterated anger before him. He was going to fucking kill whoever was responsible for this.

"It just grazed her, luckily," Abby was saying, continuing to work with Jackson at cleaning and sewing up the leg wound before pondering her head injury.

"Luckily?" Bellamy scoffed, his mouth ajar and eyes wide as he stared at Abby, unsure of how the hell anything about this was lucky.

"Yes," she said pointedly, giving him a stern glare even as she managed to continue patching up her injured daughter. (So much similarity between the Griffin women Bellamy could hardly watch.) She went on: "I need you two to get out. I have to work on this head wound, and -"