Chapter Text
Inferno.
That was what her world was reduced to.
It crackled and raged, consuming every fibre of her being, until she was sure she’d be reduced to nothing but ash. And yet somehow the flames roared on.
She didn’t know so much pain could exist. She’d always thought the body had some sort of threshold— At a certain point it would stop feeling, so overwhelmed that eventually sensation just shut down. A protection mechanism.
She should have learned at some point in her short life— the universe was always intent on proving her wrong.
But even in all that agony, there were glimmers of relief. A calming voice, whispering to her like the wind. And a cool touch, like a soothing balm that pushed the flames back all too briefly.
Then she would let sweet oblivion take her again. Anything for a respite.
She didn’t know how long she oscillated there, teetering between pure torment and the empty abyss, but eventually the fog began to lift near the edges, allowing the barest snippets of other sensations through.
“She was scared, Bellamy. She was just reacting…” Melodic and sweet, tinkling like bells on the wind.
“I don’t care.” That was more of a low growl, almost like thunder. But her time on Earth taught her she could appreciate the beauty in a summer storm. She relaxed, praying for the gentle rain that would undoubtedly temper the fire coursing over her body—
But instead she sank down once again.
Drifting in the dark was unnerving in itself. She didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. Not after the life that she’d lead.
So when she started to float closer to the surface once more, she leapt at the opportunity, no matter the consequences.
“Any change?” The words had no meaning. Language felt foreign to her. All she had room for in her consciousness was the need to keep holding on.
“I don’t know.” And yet there was something about that one voice that still held more significance. She couldn’t explain it. Just knew that hearing it calmed her racing heart… made it easier for her ribs to expand. “ What if she never wakes up?”
“Don’t—”
She plunged right back down, freefalling. There was nothing she could do to prevent it… To tether herself to the refuge she knew she would find if she just stayed afloat.
She wanted to curse and fight and claw her way back up. Instead she had to surrender to patience.
And eventually…
After what felt like a damned eternity, but eventually —
She could tell that things were different.
The room was quiet - silent apart from the low, constant buzz of some kind of computer.
Something cool swept a dewy line from the base of her neck down to her shoulder before arcing back up. It chased the searing sensation away, and even if it didn’t last it was still rapturous. She could have cried.
She did cry.
Beads of moisture gathered along her eyelashes, slowly giving in to gravity and leaking down over the bridge of her nose.
The shadows shifted, the presence at her back shifting closer.
And she just knew. She couldn’t explain it, but the way that a wave of calm swept over her, she knew. It was Bellamy.
She tried to look at him… shoot him what she hoped was a reassuring smile—
But her eyelids were too heavy. They wouldn’t budge.
She let out a quiet whimper.
He paused his ministrations, using his other hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, then use the pad of his thumb to carefully sweep the tear away. “Hey,” he whispered with a soothing lilt. “Hey, it’s okay.” He shifted the cloth that she now realized he was holding, tracing it along the curves of her spine.
She tried again, desperate to reach out to him, to lock eyes with him, to let him know that she was here .
But there was something wrong with her face. The skin felt too tight. She couldn’t make the muscles cooperate. “Bell—” she managed to slur through thick lips. Her index finger twitched, then lifted, hovering above the table.
His larger hand covered hers almost immediately, squeezing reassuringly. “I’m right here.”
Her lips curved up automatically, her cheek throbbing sharply with the motion. She let the expression fade back to neutral, trying to swallow though a mouth that was bone dry.
“Is this heaven or hell?”
The cloth paused near her wrist. “Funny how you think an eternity with me could qualify as either option.” She could almost hear the teasing smirk in his voice.
Her lips parted, about to let out a sassy retort, considering she was pretty sure she was dreaming. Though this was new, it had to be just another layer that her subconscious had invented. Because Bellamy wasn’t on Earth. He couldn’t be.
Her next inhale caught in her chest, turning into a wet cough that made her entire respiratory system scream in protest.
“Fuck,” she moaned when the fit had finally subsided. “Nevermind. This is definitely hell. Everything hurts.”
The glide of the cloth came to a stop once again, lifting away. “You’re not dead, Clarke. The world ended, but we’re still here.”
Her brow wrinkled, and it ached. But she couldn’t help it, her heart speeding up as horror flooded her body. It had to be a dream. Because if it wasn’t, then—
“No. You were supposed to take the rocket. You were supposed to go to space and be safe. I… I tried. The dish wouldn’t align and the signal was so slow, but I tried!” She could barely get the words out as panic clawed it’s way up her throat.
His fingertips danced along her hairline, featherlight like he was afraid of hurting her— which was ridiculous. This time she was sure that she didn't have any capacity for pain left over. “Shh, Clarke,” he soothed. “It wasn’t you. There was a problem with the rocket. We were never going to make it up.”
She finally managed to crack her eyelids open, inhaling sharply through her nose. For a moment all she could see was a white wall, doing absolutely nothing to lessen the frenzy shredding her insides.
Then his warm brown eyes swam into view as he crouched closer. Even then, she couldn’t relax. “The radiation—” she gasped, trying to shake her head against the pillow. “You’ll— The radiation will—” she couldn’t get the words out, her tongue growing thick in her mouth.
He pulled back, tears forming in his eyes and her heart sank even lower, an all-consuming dread filling her every cell.
But his next words gave her pause.
“I’m so sorry, Clarke. We… we harvested some of your bone marrow while you were unconscious. I wish we didn’t have to. I wish we could have waited.. . at least long enough for you to consent to what we were doing. All of this feels so wrong.”
A spark of something that felt strangely close to relief buzzed just beneath her sternum. “Did it work?”
He shrugged a shoulder apathetically. “Jury’s still out. Blood’s turning black though.” His tone was drenched in self loathing and her chest ached. She hated the way he ripped himself to pieces over having to make impossible calls like that.
Especially this one.
Drumming up all of the resolve she had, she lifted her arm and reached for him, stifling a moan at the excruciating feeling of her seared skin stretching.
She didn‘t have to wait long. His hand found her reaching fingers automatically, just like it always had before.
“Had to be done,” she assured him, her voice tight.
It took a moment, Bellamy still so tense that she wasn’t sure he was even breathing.
But then he exhaled, maneuvering his hand until their fingers slotted together and squeezing tightly. Then he stepped closer, tentatively sitting on the edge of the mattress. She knew that he hadn’t forgiven himself yet— probably wouldn’t for a long time. But at least it was a start.
Circling his knuckle lightly with her thumb, she pressed onwards. “Where are the others?”
Something flashed across his eyes that she couldn’t quite read, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. She filed that away to ask him about later.
“Harper’s staying with Monty in Becca’s office… Everyone else is still on the rocket waiting to see how this plays out.”
Obviously there was something else there… something that was bothering him. She wanted to get him to talk about it— To hash it out with her instead of bottling it up inside.
But she could already feel her strength fading as the burst of adrenaline quickly waned. It would have to wait.
“Monty?” She asked instead, too tired to get the rest of the question out.
She received a tight nod in response. “Harp’s doing what she can. He’s definitely in the worst shape aside from you. His hands are badly burned and he took a pretty big dose.” He paused, swallowing thickly. “If the nightblood works, she hopes we’ll start seeing improvements soon. That’s the way it was with you. Your body is metabolizing the radiation— it’s almost cleared from your system. But the burns… those won’t just disappear.” One corner of his lips ticked up. “You probably understand all of this way better than I do.”
She gave him what she hoped was an encouraging nod, even if it was so tiny he probably couldn’t even see it. “The physical effects can’t just be reversed.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yeah. So apparently that means no kids in our future.”
A dry chuckle rolled from her lips. “Takes the pressure off of trying to repopulate the Earth,” she mumbled, her eyelids drooping even as she gave him a teasing little grin.
Surprise flickered through his eyes as he let out a startled laugh. “Yeah… I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” Leaning back, he flicked his head, clearing his curls from his eyes. “And there are some other things… Things that the nightblood can’t fix. A-… Apop—”
“Apoptosis,” she finished for him.
“Right. And Eryth-?”
She squeezed his hand, trying to let him know that she understood what he was trying to say, but she was too tired to actually articulate the words.
Worry clouded his eyes, but he pushed it down quickly, holding her hand a little tighter and once again sweeping his fingers lightly along her hairline. The delicate touch sent a rich warmth fluttering through her, deep beneath her skin. She wished she could get him to come closer, settle that comforting feeling all the way into her bones.
She couldn’t even keep her eyes open.
The edge of the mattress sagged as he exhaled, his thumb tracing a pattern against the palm of her hand. “It’s okay,” he consoled her in a low voice. “You need your rest. Just sleep. It’ll be okay.”
She didn’t have the energy to fight. Not when she knew she was safe at his side.
The world grew heavy once more as she fell unhindered into the bottomless depths.
This time she didn’t think that she was held under as long before resurfacing.
She hoped that she hadn’t been.
Because she was fairly certain that Bellamy hadn’t moved an inch.
He shifted slightly, feeling her subtle movements as she returned to the waking world. “Welcome back,” he murmured, massaging into her hand.
“Mmm,” she groaned, having the urge to stretch out her aching joints, but knowing that that would put her into a world of even more hurt.
Bellamy stood up, gently laying her hand back down on the bed.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Are you too hot, or—”
His voice cut off at the same time as his steps faltered behind her.
She tensed, her heart hammering as she felt him use the edge of the bed to find his balance.
Turning her head as much as she could, she took in the sickly tone of his skin and the way he seemed to be working to swallow back his gorge.
She pressed her nails into the mattress.
“You okay?”
He gave her a look that she levelled with a glare of her own. Shaking his head he ducked his chin. “I’m fine.”
Trying to push herself up onto an elbow, she had to bite back a shriek. “Bellamy,” she edged out through her gritted teeth.
“Okay, okay,” stepping forward, he eased her back down until she was once again lying flat. “I haven’t puked in the last few hours.”
At the disbelieving expression she was sure she gave him, he raised his hands, palms out in surrender. “Honest.” Tucking the blanket up from where it had slipped below her shoulders, he tried for a small smile. “Believe me— it’s an improvement.”
She reached out from beneath the sheet, her fingers brushing his thigh. “You should try to eat something. Keep your strength up.”
He snorted, pulling up a stool. “Eating isn’t exactly high on my priority list.”
That gave her pause. “What’s the food situation?”
He didn’t answer right away, tugging at his lower lip with his teeth. His eyes flickered down to the floor. “Four of us not having much of an appetite is probably helping things. We’re good for water— Becca’s lab was fed by an underground reservoir and that seems to have been unaffected by Praimfaya. If only we had access to the algae farm from the Ark we would have been golden. As it stands… we might be able to stretch the MREs out to last just over 2 months.”
Inhaling through her nose, she clenched her teeth, trying to calculate things in her mind. The problem was, she didn’t even know how long she’d been out. Part of her didn’t want to know. Her chest seemed to tighten. But she set that all aside.
“What’s our timeline for making the others nightbloods?” They had to already have a plan in place.
Again, he hesitated. “That isn’t something you need to worry about right now.”
But she did. She may have been essentially helpless physically, but she still needed to lead. It had become almost instinctual. The thought of being kept out of the loop made her want to scream. “Bellamy, please.”
He swept a hand through his messy curls and shook his head. Crossing his leg over his thigh, he dug his fingers into his shin, leaning back slightly and refusing to meet her gaze. “Harper is insisting on donating the rest of the marrow. I’ll harvest some next week once the transplant has had time to actually take, then give her another 3 weeks to recuperate before I extract the rest. We’ll distribute the serum to the others once we have enough to do it all at once. It’ll be tight, but if everything goes smoothly it’ll hopefully work out.”
Her brow furrowed. She already had so many questions about that plan. First and foremost, about why they would keep everyone trapped in the rocket the entire time, rather than injecting the serum in stages. It would make so much more sense to have more hands on the outside as soon as possible to lighten the load. “Why are you—?”
He finally locked eyes with her, his expression begging her not to ask.
She bit her tongue even though it was difficult. She didn’t need to press him yet. She just hoped that he’d open up to her about it eventually.
“What are the conditions like outside?” She asked instead. She may have survived the death wave, but she’d barely made it. Even with nightblood, they couldn’t survive radiation at that level long term.
“I don’t know.” The answer was curt and short.
That confused her even more. The radiation must have taken out Becca’s monitoring equipment. Because there was no way that Raven wasn’t modeling the trends—
Bellamy’s hand landed lightly on her wrist, its warmth seeping into her skin. His eyes were still tight, but he’d managed to soften the rest of his features. “Back to my original question— what can I do to make you more comfortable?”
He was changing the subject. His lack of subtlety wasn’t exactly something she was unfamiliar with. It made her ache to get to the bottom of what was going on… of what he wasn’t telling her.
It was frustrating lying on her stomach. She felt like she couldn’t see him properly. Once again she shifted to try to push up on her elbows. A particularly nasty burn pulled, the fragile skin giving as a stabbing flair of pain shot through the side of her neck then sent violent shudders racing down her spine.
She hissed, clenching her teeth to hold in a strangled yelp. “Don’t suppose you’ve got anything to help with the pain?” She gritted out, her hands clenching into fists, nails biting into her palms.
“ Shit ,” he cursed under his breath. Grabbing a cloth, he made to press it to the slowly oozing wound. The pressure just ratcheted up the pain tenfold until all she could see was white. He immediately stopped. “I’ll go get Harper.”
Before she could say anything, he was already gone.
The pain had already started to fade, her rattling nerves calming to a sizzling buzz.
But in its place came an unexpected surge of panic.
Because Bellamy had left. The silence was deafening, pushing in from every corner, mocking her with its pervasiveness.
She was alone. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even sit up.
What if he never came back?
With the threat of a wall of fire bearing down on her, she’d never had the time to think. She’d just run. There was no fearing an agonizing death. Just the calming thought that her friends were safe in space.
Now, anything could happen. Bellamy could collapse... hit his head...
Or maybe even worse… Maybe he’d just been a figment of her imagination all along.
Maybe she’d been meant to die alone all along, and the universe was just dragging it out to torment her for her many sins.
The silence pressed her down and down.
She couldn’t seem to breathe.
Another coughing fit overtook her, refusing to relent.
The room narrowed, darkening around the edges.
A stampede of heavy footfalls echoed in her head. The oxygen mask was adjusted on her face, held firmly over her mouth and nose to remind her of its presence. She gulped in a huge breath of the cool air, nearly choking on it.
She swallowed and tried again.
“That’s right, hun. Nice slow breaths. You’re okay,” Harper’s calming voice washed over her as the girl's slim fingers carded gently through her hair. “That’s it.”
After a few more ragged wheezes, things started to clear up a bit. Her hand was being held in a warm vice. She squeezed back, hanging on for dear life.
“You’re in luck,” the blonde informed Clarke with a soft smile. “Jackson missed a couple of vials of tramadol. The supply is really limited and you have to share with Monty, but on the bright side— After a lifetime of strictly rationed pharmaceuticals, a little bit seems to go a long way.”
Clarke felt the medication push into her IV, coolness spreading eerily through her forearm. She wanted to protest, because Harper was right - opioid use was so severely restricted on the Ark, it was instinctual to protest them being wasted on her.
But then the fuzzy warmth started licking through her and any argument she had almost immediately washed away.
Harper smiled again, her eyes sad. “That’s probably going to knock you out pretty quickly. But it’s okay, Clarke. You need your rest.”
She didn’t want to go to sleep. But she couldn’t seem to remember why.
Her hand lifted like it was floating in a stream, a shadow crossing over her shoulder. That comforting presence again. A fleeting thought resurfaced about why she’d been so anxious in the first place.
“Bell,” she slurred. “Don’t go.”
She felt him step closer, his grip on her hand strengthening to reassure her that he was there. The tightness in her chest eased.
“I’m not going anywhere, Princess,” his tranquilizing voice whispered through the dark. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”