"I don't know why I do this to myself." Silence. A light, disdainful chuckle. "It's not like you're out there somewhere listening."
Bellamy lets out a shaky sigh and clenches the fist that rests on the table by the transmitter to steady his breathin...
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Bellamy kicks at the empty bottles lying on the floor by Echo's bed just as Raven waves a couple of fingers at him before heading out the door. She's wearing a guilty expression on her face, though she needn't. Echo's near miss is not her burden to bear.
Bellamy sighs, sitting down on Echo's cot after the last of his friends leave her room. He looks over at her pallid face; she's asleep again. He reaches out to brush the strand of hair that's fallen over her eyes, uncovering the long eyelashes that rest over her cheeks. He and Murphy had positioned her on her side, just in case.
He turns away, dropping his head into his hand. The initial fear – the shock of seeing a lifeless Echo drooped against the back wall of her room – has subsided, but his body is still tense and he can't stop the shaking of his body. He brings his palms together before his mouth and clenches his jaw, willing his teeth to stop chattering. He lets out another sigh and rotates on the spot to lower his back onto the cot beside Echo. Linking his hands on his chest when he lies down, he turns his head to look over at her.
"You can't leave me, Echo." His voice is strained when he speaks. "You hear me?" When she doesn't respond, he continues. "You made me care about you," he says, blinking several times before using the side of his hand to wipe at his eyes. "You made me care, so you can't leave me now."
He gulps, staring up at the small strip of light running across the ceiling from the corridor. Soon, that light will turn off and he will be submerged in darkness. His heartbeat accelerates. He shifts closer to Echo to ensure that she is breathing. He makes contact with her back and he can feel the slow inhalations against his arm. He closes his eyes even though he knows he probably won't sleep.
...
It's hard to tell what is morning and what is night. The cabins of the sleeping quarters have no windows – and even if they did, sunrise on the Ring doesn't necessarily indicate the beginning of a new day. Bellamy turns on his side, searching the room for a clock. O Five hundred. He closes his eyes. Has he slept at all? Impossible to say in all this darkness.
Echo stirs behind him and he whips his head around to look at her. She groans but he can't see her. He feels her hand pat his arm. "Who's there?" she says.
"It's me," he says roughly.
"Bellamy?"
He rotates to face her. "Who else could it be?" he says.
She moans again. "My head."
"Yeah," Bellamy grunts, letting his head fall back onto the cot. "What did you expect?" He can hear the resentment in his own voice despite the relief he feels that she's awake and lucid.
"What do you mean?" she says, propping herself up onto her elbows.
"The liquor, Echo. How much did you drink?"
"A little more than last time? I don't remember." Her head collapses onto the pillow beside his and he could feel her proximity even though he still can't see her. "What happened?"
