― 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒕.
❝ i knew i was in trouble
when i first heard
her laugh and
my heart danced
at the sound. ❞
or, in which the ark's hacker & mechanic cross paths like two shooting stars.
the 100 s1...
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─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"WELLS! NO!"
The scream came from the pit of June's stomach. It was broken, full of the deep emotion of grief, scratching her throat raw. Grief was more than a feeling, June realized. It tore apart her insides, it left her wanting to bring Wells back but knowing there was absolutely nothing she could do. Wells was gone.
The words repeated in June's head again and again. It was like an echo, as she cradled Wells head in her hands. She pleaded, God, no, please, anyone but Wells. But her skin was beginning to drench in blood, and she would scrub her skin raw later to get the color off, but right now she grieved in dry sobs. There was so much blood, and she was beginning to think she was soaking in it. She could feel nothing, but everything all at once. All she wanted was for him to wake up, make his dark eyes blink a few times, and light up in the color full of love she's always known. But Wells wasn't going to wake up, and June knew that. She didn't want to.
June didn't realize she was screaming until she was joined by Clarke and Bellamy, and a few other delinquents gasping and watching in the distance. June couldn't look up. She couldn't stop screaming, so rough and broken, but made out no words. It was just endless, painful wails of her best friend's name as she stroked the side of his face, leaving blood trails against the dark skin. The world around June feels as if it had gone silent, no birds chirping, no trees shaking in the breeze, nothing except the mixtures of sobs and screams.
Where was June? She should have stayed, she thought. She should have insisted to Wells that she could help, or even dug the grave herself. Wells was dead, and it was her fault. She came down to Earth to protect him, watch out for him as he did for her all those years. She needed him, here, not gone. June should have saved him. They were supposed to have more time together, spent looking after the other delinquents. But she was left alone now.
Wells was dead.
Another scream tore from June's throat.
━━━━━━━━
THREE DAYS LATER.
The mud dug into June's knees, staining her pants as she knelt down in front of the familiar grave. She stuck the shovel in it as a tombstone and decorated it in flowers for his memory, Wells's memory. She didn't remember burying him, it was a moment too emotional and painful as his body was lowered into the ground. June drew in a shaky breath, still unable to believe it, despite residing in front of his grave. She knew Clarke was worried about June isolating herself, unmoving from Wells grave unless she really had to. But she didn't care.
June carried grief, a heavy weight, but there was more. She blamed herself most of all. She told herself repeatedly that is she had insisted on helping Wells dig the grave, he'd still be alive. Or even if she dug it herself, allowing Wells to get rest, maybe the grounder would have attacked her instead and she'd be the one buried. Remembering the blood coating her skin, pouring from the wound on Wells's neck, a single tear streamed down her cheek. June wanted it to have been her. At least this pain of sorrow would go away, but she knew it would only land on Wells.
