to_survive: <user name="driftsuit"> (062)
Bellamy Blake ([personal profile] to_survive) wrote2015-12-22 11:30 pm
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[For Clarke; December 23]

He wakes exactly like he knew he would: in a cold sweat, breath shallow and painful, the remnants of his dream still clear and sharp.

Bellamy touches his stomach as he sits up, feels nothing but old scars and bare skin as he remembers what it had been like to be blown up, to be shot, to die and watch those he loves die in different ways.

And through it all had been Clarke, a solid presence beside him even though Dream-Clarke made no sense -- hell, the entire dream made no sense. Bellamy understands reliving it all, he does that enough on his own. But reliving different versions of those few minutes, over and over, until everything came back to the way it originally played out? What the hell was that supposed to mean? And why had he dreamed of a Clarke who acted so differently?

Whatever the reason, Bellamy doesn't want to even attempt to fall back asleep. When his breathing finally evens out he turns to look down at Clarke, who is exactly where he knew she'd be: safe.
willbetested: (but it's in the past.)

[personal profile] willbetested 2015-12-30 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Waking from a dream like that is hard. It clings too tightly, has its arms wrapped around her like a vice. Forehead furrowed, heart pounding, she curls into herself and Bellamy pressing against the solid, rightness of him.

Opening her eyes seems like too much. It was one thing to know that she did it; it was quite another to live it. To know it was the only way.

"No," she says softly, shaking her head slightly as she presses her face against his chest. "It was too real."
willbetested: (swear to the earth that I will keep it)

[personal profile] willbetested 2016-01-04 04:26 am (UTC)(link)
It felt so real. Even as her heart starts to slow back down, the vice releasing itself, Clarke can't quite escape it. During the dream it felt like it would never end. Like she'd live lifetimes stretched into that dream, never making the right choice, never saving them all.

Her mother, laid out on that stretcher, too late to save her. The feeling of knowing she was an orphan and it was all her fault. So many people lost, no matter how hard she tried.

Tears have slipped onto her cheeks as she holds Bellamy tighter, squeezing her eyes once more before letting them open. She can make out his profile in the dark.

"Bellamy?"
willbetested: (we opened our eyes)

[personal profile] willbetested 2016-01-12 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
Her arm snakes around his waist, using him as almost an anchor. There's little doubt that she's going to accidentally drift back to sleep, but after such a real dream (or was it dreams?) she craves a little steadiness.

Momentarily leaning into his hand without opening her eyes, she licks her lips before answering him.

"Mount Weather. I — we — tried to save everyone, but they kept dying or we kept dying and in the end, we had to do it. I watched you die." Her voice cracks at the end of that sentence, the pain of it still oddly fresh.
willbetested: (snapped a photograph it couldn't be you)

[personal profile] willbetested 2016-01-23 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Her eyes open not long after she feels him press a kiss to the top of her head. Turning her chin up, she looks at his face letting his words sink over her. It's both reassuring and terrifying, a reminder that despite appearances this place is far from normal. Something strange is always threatening to leap out from the edges. To grab them by the wrists and drag them down.

Holding fast to him, Clarke is glad that at least she didn't dream it alone. Even if she can still see his deaths behind her lids whenever she closes her eyes.

"I'm glad it was really you," she says after a moment, not questioning how it happened. All that matters is that it did. "It was worse than I thought it would be. And you — Bellamy you lived again."
willbetested: (wanna tell you but i don't know how)

[personal profile] willbetested 2016-02-14 11:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Clarke stills, letting what he's just said wash over. She understands the reaction of that other Clarke. The need to flee and run, to put as much distance between herself and those she caused pain. If she could have, she would have run until she could flee from feeling anything at all.

But now she's looking at him in the dim light, memorizing his freckles and the line of his eyelashes. Reaching up she mimics his gesture, running her own hand gently over his cheek.

"I won't," she assures him. "I'm not going anywhere. We did it together."
willbetested: (set our hearts ablaze)

[personal profile] willbetested 2016-03-17 01:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Turning her hand in his, Clarke twists it enough so that she can interlace their fingers. It doesn't matter that they're already lying so that almost everything is touching; this is a final way of tethering herself to him. As if she can make it count so much more by doing so.

Mount Weather and all that they did there was hard to live through once, let alone the iterations that just stretched out between them. She had come in unprepared, but what of Bellamy? He'd known, but did that make it easier?

Nodding, she leans in to press her nose against the curve of his neck, nodding again. "Exactly. What we do to survive, to make as many people as we can survive are not the same thing."