I Never Meant To Fall

4. Louder Than Words

Clarke

It had been a week since Jay's death but Clarke still felt heavy with guilt.

She heaved herself up from her bed of blankets, it was slowly growing dark out but she couldn't sleep.

She'd gotten busy after what happened, and all the delinquents had their tents set up - plenty were surprisingly happy to share and Clarke had never felt more relieved, there werent enough tents for one each and the thought of having to pick and choose which criminals to stuff in a tent together made her feel sick. It seemed a lot of the 100 had already begun to make friends and alliances - apart from a lot of energy and rowdy behaviour, they all just seemed like regular teenagers. Clarke only wished they had a way to tell the Ark, earth was survivable, because Earth really was beautiful.

A couple animals had wandered into their area about the dropship last night, scared some people half to death. Luckily it meant dinner came to their door - a shed for the meat and a shed for other foods like nuts and berries were in the process of being made also - but it concerned Clarke that they were exposed to other, more dangerous animals, so she'd begun issuing orders for a camp wall to be built and hard started marking out the boarders - getting people to help her build the wall was going to be a different task altogether.

They had seemed happy enough to help so far, but she didn't know how long such cooperation would last.

She'd seen Bellamy around, giving orders like he wasn't even aware he was giving them. He'd been helping with the building and organising but he'd never once spoken to Clarke, and every time she'd tried to approach him, he'd suddenly been walking the other way or someone else just happened to need him for something.

He was ignoring her and Clarke didn't know what to do. They hadn't even looked at each other since...Jay.

She felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude and simultaneously she felt awful! She should never have let him take that Knife from her! Jay was her responsibility, she'd taken it up herself, she should have done it.

And yet, Clarke knew deep down she wouldn't have been able to.

I couldn't let those idiots turn you into a murderer

She'd never heard a sincere word leave that boys mouth and then...that! What did it even mean? She'd supposed he'd forgotten how to give a shit but you don't say that, you don't do that, if you don't care.

Clarke, sitting in her tent, biting her nail could feel the anticipation, the frustration building in her chest. She needed to talk to him!

She jumped to her feet and stormed outside, she stumbled around, a few others still walking around, some sat around small fires, the rest in their tents.

She saw him at last, sat ahead of her in the distance, at the far end of camp on a slight hill, leaning against a tree at the top, one leg bent, his arm resting on his knee, his other leg straight.

Clarke approached slowly, expecting him to stand up and go. She counted her steps as she neared, his eyes staring out, but not looking at her. She wondered if he was even seeing her and finally, she was stood right in front of him. He did not move.

Awkwardly she sat down beside him and drew her legs to her chest, staring out at the camp which seemed miles away.

"You could have let me be a murderer." She said as casually as she could, her cheeks burning, her eyes stinging from staring.

Bellamy didn't move.

"I could have done it." Clarke continued, swallowing and finally allowing herself to blink. She's almost whispering now and sounds a stranger to herself.

"No." Bellamy said gruffly, "you couldn't."

Clarke laughed bitterly and bit down on her lip, looking up to the sky as tears came to her eyes. She saw it all again in her mind, the blood, the knife, Bellamy's worried brown eyes...could hear the struggling for breath, could feel the broken bone beneath her fingertips.... "you're right." Clarke said, fighting to keep the tears at bay. "I couldn't have done it..."

"I killed someone." Bellamy said calmly, his voice unnervingly level.

Clarke went still and slowly looked at him, shocked and horrified by the haunted sadness contained in his staring eyes. He was not looking at her but he had turned to her slightly so she could see him clearly in the light of the fading sun. There was something so hopeless about him that Clarke suddenly felt the need to reach out, to feel his hand against hers...

"I shot him. To cause a distraction. To get on the dropship..." he said quietly, his Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed, the cords of his neck pulled taught, the muscles in his shoulders - just visible due to his open collar shirt - strained and stiff.

"For Octavia." Clarke found herself saying. She shouldn't say anything to defend him, not really. He was admitting to murder, he'd been cruel and awful but...Clarke couldn't help but feel the need to defend him, to...care.

He looked at her then, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment he simply looked at her. After a moment, he nodded. She wanted to thank him, wanted to tell him that he'd done her the biggest favour anyone could, but nothing came to mind...there was no way to express it...she held onto the idea that sometimes silence speaks louder than words, and said nothing.

"It doesn't matter. They'll shoot me when they get here." He shrugged, sniffing and looking away. He rolled his shoulders and sat back with a sigh, his eyes softening and his expression growing less withdrawn. Clarke suddenly thought how handsome he was...in a rough kind of way...

"They won't." Clarke said before she could stop herself. He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised and she blushed, blushing harder as he smirked. "We'll convince them not to." She said, pushing through her embarrassment and resting against the tree also, their shoulders brushing.

"Sure thing Princess." He scoffed quietly, like her suggestion was madness, but when she glanced over, he had closed his eyes, and he was actually...smiling.