Because of You

The Third Time

GUYS, it looks like I'm ACTUALLY going to finish this fanfiction! Awww! I'm really excited. Please let me know your thoughts. I love getting reviews and feedback :) 

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Movement.

Panicked voices.

Bellamy's tan fingers clenched around Octavia's pale ones.

That's what everything seemed to come down to, those three things, revolving endlessly around each other like planets in orbit.

I stared at her leg as if I could somehow assess the damage from here, but I could barely make out her form through the paramedics hovering around her.

The drive was a blur. The hospital was a blur. Everything had become just . . . a blur. Then everyone was piling out of the ambulance, and the bright day was replaced by whitewashed walls. Octavia was rushed away, and soon Bellamy was no longer holding her hand but waiting outside the door of the OR, waiting. His fingers curled into his hair, his back to me.

I watched him mutely. Watched as his hands finally fell away from his head and his whole body seemed to slouch.

I didn't even realize I was sitting in one of the chairs until he finally joined me.

Not a word was spoken. We just sat, and waited.

Eventually I ruled against offering him any consolation. She'll be fine. We helped her in time.

But I'd thought those words twice before, enough that I'd actually believed them, for a few meager moments. And on both occasions, they had been proven wrong.

No, I would not permit a third time the same opportunity to shatter us both.

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Soon after, Bellamy was asked to step into another room.

Ice-cold panic shot through me at the thought that they would tell him the news we were both dreading. But no-they just wanted to check for injuries. He looked like he only had a few abrasions, some minor cuts, but as soon as a physical was mentioned, I was glad he went.

It gave me enough time to think about a lot of things. And yet, I found myself unable to think about anything but those moments beneath the car.

It was dark-maybe I'd missed something.

The light had slipped once.

Maybe the tourniquet was too high.

Maybe it was too low.

The paramedics had been there quickly; should I have waited for them?

I squeezed my eyes hard enough to make my temples pound. The accusations, the questions, they didn't matter. Not yet. Not before we knew anything. I let that be enough to shove all the noise away and occupy myself with nothing more than the buzz of hospital activity.

I didn't know how much time had passed before I heard Mom.

"Clarke!"

Her arms went around me before I had time to stand.

I hugged her back. "It's okay," I told her numbly. "I wasn't in the car."

She pulled away to study my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Oh, honey," she whispered, and pulled me to herself again.

"Mom." She caught the quiver in my voice and let me go long enough to look me in the eyes once more. "It's been a long time," I said. "I haven't heard anything. Could you . . . can you go check?"