Bellarke One Shots Book 1

43) Eat or be Eaten

She spends the first night in the bunker where Bellamy taught her how to shoot. It's the opposite direction of Mt. Weather and a good distance away from the drop ship and Camp Jaha, plus she figures there may be some supplies she can load up on before leaving the area for good. Lying in the dark, cavernous bunker, however, she realizes that it may not have been the best choice of location considering her desire to escape reminders of what she had done. She had managed to get away from the 100's first camp, from the survivors of the Ark, from TonDC, from the mountain, but she hadn't been able to get away from him.

The tree where they had sat in the dark, listening to each other breath for over and hour, had greeted her upon arrival. She hadn't been able to avoid the memory of cleaning the blood off his face before they returned to the drop ship, the look in his eyes when he called himself a monster, or the words they had exchanged. He had been broken, and she had given him forgiveness. She had tried to fix him, to patch him up and let him know that he was not as far gone as he believed. As she passed that tree, and the spot where Dax's body had gone limp, she couldn't help but realize that only now did she truly understand how he had felt that night. How easily he had welcomed the prospect of death, only pushing it away when her safety was called into question. How much her forgiveness must have meant, but how it still hadn't been enough.

The Bunker itself wasn't much help either. The blanket with its deep, heavy x was still hanging, each bullet hole a sharp reminder of who had been there with her.

It was in this bunker that something had changed between them. It was here that she started to truly see him for who he was, not who he pretended to be those first few weeks.

If anything the whole place just made her feel guiltier. She knew that Bellamy had wanted, needed, her to stay. But she just couldn't do it. She couldn't be there. She had to face her demons on her own. She needed to be alone with herself.

In a way she longed for her cell back on the Ark. People always seemed to forget that she had been alone for close to a year. In that tiny cell she only had the walls to talk to, only had the drawings she created to keep her company. Clarke had learned how to be alone, and a tiny part of her preferred it. When you are alone you can't kill those you care about, or be betrayed by those you trusted, or betray the trust of those who love you.

There are no hard decisions to be made or battles to fight or people to save. There is selfishness in being alone, and Clarke had been selfless for too long. She had saved her people, but she had destroyed herself in the process.

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She spent the second night in the woods, watching the stars in the east and wondering what the ocean was like.

She spent the third night in a cave, screaming as the faces of those she had killed swam in her dreams.

She spent the fourth night by a river, letting the bubbling of the water wash over her ears.

She spent the fifth night under a tree, tasting the salt on her cheeks.

She spent the sixth night in a tree, wondering if the panther whose tracks she had seen earlier would think to climb the oak and whether or not she really cared in the end.

She spent the seventh night in a clearing, thinking about her mother.

She spent the eighth night debating trying to find and kill Lexa, ultimately deciding she had enough blood on her hands and that they weren't that different after all.

She spent the ninth night thinking of a man with dark hair and dark eyes and too many freckles, trying to believe he had really given her forgiveness.