Bellarke One-Shots

In My Dreams

Little author's note, this is in Clarke's room when she had to make the list of the 100 and Bellamy fell asleep, only in this so did Clarke.

Clarke's POV

"Make a list, Clarke." Raven's harsh voice barked at me inside my mind, but it wasn't that easy. Who was I to decide who lived and who died? And how on earth could I possibly justify putting my name on the list of the living? I have killed so many people, left my people, and done some truly selfish things. I would be a help medically speaking, I could teach children to be doctors and heal others myself, my brain said trying to make logical sense of allowing myself to live. But no matter how many times I tell myself to write down my own name, I can't, because I know I don't deserve to live.

I am jarred from my thoughts by a sudden, sharp inhale. I turn to smile at Bellamy who fell asleep on my couch. He looked so peaceful, so innocent, like a child who has yet to know this cruel world and its burdens.

I look back at the list. By now I have about ninety or so names written down and each with painstaking consideration. I was about to write another when I drifted off to sleep right there at my work desk.

"Hey, Bellamy." I said after he approached me at the chair I was sitting on.

"Clarke." He said in an acknowledging tone of voice. He bent down towards me as if to tell me a secret.

"What are you d-" I began to say, but lost the words the moment he handcuffed my hands together.

I was shocked. "Bellamy, what are you doing?" I hollered.

"I got her." He yelled to the door.

Suddenly, everyone from Arkadia burst through the the door. I mean quite literally they knocked over the door and began grabbing me. I was confused and terrified, until finally, I saw my mom.

"Mom!" I screamed, hoping she'd come to help me. Instead, she shoved a needle in my neck. "Mom?" I asked as everything went black.

When I came to, I was tied to a pole by a very tight rope. I struggled to get my hands free as I heard someone yell at me, "It's no use Clarke," Emerson laughed viciously, "but don't worry you're not going to die. Well, not at first anyway." He finished walking towards me still laughing darkly. When he was a few feet away from me, he pulled out a long sword and cut me across the stomach. I only gave him the satisfaction of a small, pained cry.

"Don't be shy." Emerson yelled. I looked at where he had yelled and saw every person I had killed in Mount Weather line up in a single file line. One by one they all walked up to me, stopped a few feet short, and cut then me with Emerson's sword. I looked around and realized it wasn't just the people from Mount Weather, it was every person I had ever killed.

"Got to be feeling it by now, Clarke." Emerson sneered.

I was and so I screamed. I gave in and screamed out all the pain I felt.

"Clarke," called out a familiar voice. "Clarke!"

I opened my eyes and looked around. I was sitting on the couch in my room and Bellamy was standing over me, looking worried.

"How did I get on the couch?" I asked still groggy from my nightmare and attempting to sit up.

"I moved you when you started screaming." Bellamy said sitting on the couch next to me.

"Oh, thanks." I said still distracted by the familiar and terrifyingly vivid nightmare.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bellamy questioned trying to catch my eye.

"No." I said standing up. Why would I want to voluntarily think about my worst nightmare? So instead, I walked over to my work desk. I really needed to finish the list.

I sat down and looked at the name I had written right before I had fallen asleep. "Bellamy Blake" was 99.

"If I'm on that list," Bellamy piped up apparently having been peering over my shoulder and reading the list too, "you're on that list."

I looked up weakly at him. I just couldn't. I couldn't write my name down, there was a voice in my head that telling me I didn't deserve to live.

"Write it down." Bellamy commanded. "Write it down or I will."

I looked him in the eye and shook my head slightly. No, I wouldn't, I had made my decision and I decided I didn't deserve to live. I was just about to tell Bellamy that when he leaned over me, picked up the pen, and wrote down "Clarke Griffin," right next to the number 100. He dropped the pen and looked me dead in the eye before standing up.

"Bellamy, I can't-" I tried to say, but I couldn't find my voice. I tipped my head down. I felt a strong hand put itself gently on my shoulder. My body burned with a longing comfort so great, my head instinctually nuzzled Bellamy's arm.

"If I'm on that list Clarke, you should be too." He said finally after several minutes.

"I don't deserve to be, Bellamy." I said looking up to find his magnetic eyes. "Part of me knows it. In my dreams, I see everyone I have ever killed. I am tied by a rope against a tall pole, like Finn was. And they are all lined up. I see everyone of their faces as each person steps forward and cuts me with a sword. And I stand there and scream in pain and when I try to wake up, I can't. I can't because part of me knows I deserve it, death by a thousand cuts. And when I do wake up, I'm momentarily paralyzed and all my mind can think about is that nightmare. I see it every time I go to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, and I'm just so tired. I don't deserve to live, Bellamy, and subconsciously, I know it."

"That's not true, Clarke. Who we are and who we must be to survive are two very different things. Who we are and who we must be to keep our people alive don't define us. It's the fact that we care enough about them that each of their lives is more important than our own shows just how selfless we are and that we should live if only to protect them." Bellamy said.

I stood up and I realized his hand was still on my shoulder. He was always there for me, to talk me down, comfort me, help me make an impossible decision, or just to be there. In realizing that, I hugged him so tightly that he could never let go.