Experiment of Fate ~ A Bellamy Blake story

5 - Healing

It had been months since Clarke had left, and Isla was still finding her footing in a world that felt colder without her sister. The initial shock of abandonment had left Isla hollow, the pain seeping into every corner of her being. Waking up to the news after her escape from Mount Weather—a place that had caged her, scarred her, and tried to break her—felt like a betrayal too cruel to comprehend. Clarke had been her anchor, her hope in the darkest hours, and to lose her so soon after their reunion felt like being shattered all over again.

The days blurred into one another at first, each one a mixture of anger and sorrow. Isla's pain was raw, simmering under her skin like a relentless storm. The scars from the mountain weren't just etched on her body but carved into her soul. She couldn't escape the memories of her imprisonment, the cold, sterile walls that had stolen her freedom. And now, the person she had dreamed of seeing again, the one who was supposed to make everything right, was gone.

Physically, Isla was healing. Bellamy and Octavia ensured she ate enough, drank enough, and got enough rest, though she often protested. Bellamy, ever-watchful, would linger by her side during meals, his eyes silently urging her to take another bite. "You're stronger than you think," he'd say when she pushed the plate away. But the food often tasted like ash in her mouth, and the bitterness in her heart was harder to swallow.

It was Raven who gave Isla a reprieve from the weight of her emotions. The two of them had found an unspoken rhythm, repairing equipment around the camp. Isla's hands remembered the movements, the techniques she'd learned from Jake, her father. As she worked alongside Raven, the clang of tools and the hum of machinery drowned out the noise in her head. "You've got a knack for this," Raven remarked one day, her voice light but filled with genuine admiration. Isla smiled faintly, the first real one in days. "Guess I had a good teacher," she murmured, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

But no matter how much Isla busied herself, Clarke's absence lingered like an open wound. At night, when the camp was quiet and the stars seemed too bright for a world so broken, Isla's anger surged. She would sit by the dying embers of the fire, her fists clenched as tears streaked down her face. "Why?" she whispered to the darkness. "Why did you leave me?"

Her relationship with Bellamy had grown complicated. He had made a promise to Clarke, one Isla could sense weighed heavily on him. She saw the guilt in his eyes when he looked at her, a silent reminder of the sister she resembled. Their arguments were frequent, often ignited by the smallest things—a misplaced tool, a missed step during training—but they always ended the same way: Bellamy's firm resolve to protect her. "I'm not Clarke," he said one night after a particularly heated exchange. His voice was heavy with emotion. "But I promised her I'd keep you safe." Isla didn't respond, but the words settled in her chest, both comforting and suffocating.

Training with Octavia and Lincoln became Isla's escape. She threw herself into every session, determined to shed the helplessness that had once defined her. Octavia's teaching was fierce, each movement a challenge to push harder, to be stronger. Lincoln balanced that with a quiet patience, his deep voice grounding her when her frustration threatened to boil over. "Strength isn't just about power," he told her one day as she struggled with a move. "It's about control." His words stuck with her, though she wasn't sure she believed them yet.

There was another part of Isla, one she didn't dare share with anyone. It had awakened in Mount Weather—a strange, searing energy that coursed through her veins in moments of intense fear or anger. She feared it as much as she feared being caged again. What if it hurt someone? What if they feared her because of it? For now, she kept it buried, focusing on the tangible aspects of her recovery.

Kane had taken to encouraging her involvement in the camp, allowing her to join missions with Bellamy's crew. Those trips became her lifeline, offering her a sense of purpose. People in the camp admired her resilience. Despite everything, Isla still sought to help others, to be the person her father would have wanted her to be.