Never Let You Go// The 100

Blind (Part 2)

 *Chapter 6*

 "Now is the dramatic moment of fate, when you step upon the stair for which is  walking into your life, and you know not whether for good or ill."

 - Arthur Conan Doyle

 A few weeks after Octavia left, it seemed that Bellamy was in the best mood of his life. It was like he had gone off to college, leaving his overbearing mother and moving in with his new roommate, who happened to be the most amazing person he had ever met.  Which was great for him, yet annoying to Octavia, who didn't bother to  hide her irritation. 

 "I've been gone for a month and you're suddenly the perfect angel!" she yelled one night, while she was talking to Bellamy on the phone. "I should've gotten you a caretaker a long time ago." Bellamy rolled his eyes, switching the phone to his other ear.

  "Admit it, you're happy for me." Bellamy smirked. He knew his sister better than anyone else, which meant even over the phone he could tell when she was putting on an act so that he would feel guilty. "You have Lincoln and your dream job. I have a hot caretaker and an attitude check. Everything is in balance." 

 "Hot?" Octavia laughed, her voice a bit muffled. "How would you know? Did you ask?" 

 Bellamy wanted to hit his head against a wall. Of all people, Octavia wouldn't understand what he meant. But when Octavia heard something interesting, she didn't let it drop. 

 "No, I didn't ask." Bellamy said stubbornly, feeling like a child who did something bad but didn't want to admit it. "I just sort of... know." 

 Octavia was silent for a minute, but it felt like an hour. Bellamy felt like he was being tested and he wasn't very sure he had passed. Suddenly, Octavia laughed. 

 "There's something I never thought I'd see." she said quietly. Bellamy knew what she meant and had been thinking the same thing.

  "Me neither." 

 ↢********************↣

 Bellamy was nervous. Like when he was at doctor's getting tests done or was faced with the task of walking down stairs. His palms were sweaty, his mouth was dry, and he was slightly shaking. Clarke didn't notice. 

 They were walking through the local park like they did most days when the weather was good. Clarke had her arm through his as they walked, their feet moving at the same time. It usually soothed Bellamy, but not that day. Especially not Clarke's closeness, which made him even more scared of what he was about to say. 

 "Clarke," he said suddenly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Can you tell me what you look like?" 

 Bellamy felt her stiffen like he knew she would. When a blind person asked you to describe something, it felt like a weight was put on your shoulders. Every word in your vocabulary flew from your mind and all you wanted to do was make it feel like a blind man was seeing again. Not even Clarke could escape the pressure.

  "Sure." she nodded, her voice sounding uneasy. It was a new sound for Bellamy, who felt like he was about to pass out. He knew he shouldn't get his hopes up, but something deep inside was telling him that she was special. 

 "I'm about a head shorter than you, although you probably figured that out by now. I have blonde hair with streaks of brown that people call dirty blonde but I call "highlighted".  My eyes are blue and pretty unremarkable, although one time a kid wrote me a poem saying they were the color of the ocean and the sky all at once. Also, my smile is like sunshine and my nose is as cute as a button, but those aren't my words exactly."

 Bellamy felt like his heart had stopped. It was so unlike every other time someone had described themselves. It was like he was on the edge of being able to see clearly but something was pulling him back. But he was close enough. Close enough to be able to imagine what Clarke looked like. 

 "Did I do ok?" she asked quietly. Bellamy looked over at the girl who he had only known for a few weeks and knew exactly what he wanted to say. Although, that didn't mean he was going to say it out loud. 

 "How about me?" Bellamy asked suddenly. "And the park. And everything. What does it all look like?" 

 Bellamy could imagine Clarke smiling. Such a beautiful smile. Something he didn't need to see in real life to remember forever. He hoped Clarke would never stop being his caretaker. Because it would be impossible to love someone as much as he loved her. 

 ↢********************↣

 The familiar pain felt like a kick in the head. It woke Bellamy with a start and left him gasping and covered in sweat. It had been a while since his head had hurt that bad and he knew from experience that when it came, it was never good. He swung his arm frantically, looking for anything in reach. His cane, his phone, some Advil. Anything. If Octavia was here... that wasn't important. 

 After what felt like hours, Bellamy finally found his phone, which of course, was where it always was. He quickly dialed Clarke's number and tried to breath but his head hurt too bad. The memory of his accident came back to him. 

 He was 3 years old, teetering at the top of the stairs. His mother wasn't paying attention. He was falling. There was blood everywhere. His head hurt. He wanted to go home. 

 He was 5 years old, still getting used to only seeing black. He could hear his baby sister waddling around. "Don't go near the stairs" he would say, rubbing at his eyes. His head still hurt. 

 He was 10 years old, sitting in a hospital bed. He didn't mean to fall and hit his head. He tripped all the time. The doctors whispered and his mom cried and Octavia asked if he was going to be ok. "If he plays too hard, it'll eventually get worse." the doctor said. "The headaches will never go away." They never did. 

 "Clarke? Please you have to come over. I need help." Bellamy said, his voice rough like sandpaper. His head felt like an atomic bomb went off inside of it. 

 "Bellamy, what happened? Did you fall? Are you ok?" Clarke's voice was scratchy. Bellamy didn't like it. He wanted her here with him. He wanted her to make the pain stop.

 "You have to come over." Bellamy whispered, his voice cracking. "Please. I need you." 

 "Ok, I'm on my way. I'm calling an ambulance too." She paused. "You'll be ok, I promise." 

 Bellamy listened to the dull silence of the phone after she had hung up. He didn't think he was going to be ok. Countless doctors had told him countless things, but all of them had said that if he wasn't careful, the brain damage could get worse. It was either bedrest or head trauma. Bellamy wanted to live. 

 He reached his arm out, trying to find his cane. He reached farther. Too far. The edge of the bed was too close to stop from falling onto the floor. Bellamy felt like there was a crack in the back of his head and his brain was trying to escape. If he could see, there would be spots in his eyes. Clarke came a few minutes later. 

 "Bell, what happened?" Clarke said, her footsteps too loud and her voice too urgent. Everything was happening to fast. 

 "Clarke." That was all Bellamy could say. He put out his arm, hoping she would know what to do. She did. 

 Clarke sat on the floor with Bellamy's head in her lap. The ambulance was on it's way but that didn't stop the shaky breaths from leaving their mouths. It was like when you had a wiggly tooth and all that was left was a thread keeping it in place. They were stuck waiting.

  "Clarke." Bellamy whispered, leaning into her hand that was resting on his face. "Can you tell me what you look like again." Clarke didn't hesitate. 

 "Blonde hair." She said, her voice soft like a lullaby. 

 "Blonde hair." Bellamy chanted back.

 "Blue eyes." 

 "Blue eyes."

 "Smile like sunshine."

 "Smile like sunshine."

 "Nose like a button."

 "Nose like a button."

 "I love you, Bellamy."

 "I love you, Clarke."

 The ambulance came a minute too late. Bellamy was already gone. And Clarke felt like she had gone with him.