The Slowest Burn - Bellarke

Season 1- sick

*ya already know what's about to happen*
***

Bellamy Blake was thrust out of sleep by the feeling that something was wrong. He looked over to the hammock where Clarke had been resting; she was gone.

He sat amongst the 100. The people he and Clarke were supposed to protect... drowning in their own blood.

He didn't know how Clarke did it. She stared death in the face every single day and somehow managed to come out of it with a smile.

A beautiful smile at that.

He shook his head, it throbbed, his temples pulled against his skull.

He was delusional and he was dying.

He looked around, the people who he had corrupted lay scattered inside the drop ship.

Their safe haven. Their last chance.

If Finn and Jasper didn't make it back, they would just have to hide.

Hide and wait to die.

"Here." His thoughts were interrupted by Murphy, offering him water.

Bellamy was weak, but he wasn't stupid. He knew that Murphy was out to get both him and Clarke since the banishment.

He hit the water away, using all of his diminished strength.

"Get the hell away from me." He groaned.

"Bellamy you're sick," Murphy began, his voice genuine, "I'm just trying to help."

Blood ran from Bellamy's nose. He was embarrassed to appear so weak in front of Murphy.

Despite Murphy offering him a cloth to wipe his face, he used his sleeve. That'll show him.

"When I get better... if you're still here..." Bellamy began to threaten Murphy, but was interrupted by Clarke's voice.

"Hey." She said softly.

"I got this one."

He felt relief. God he was glad she was okay.

When he'd seen that hammock empty he'd assumed the worst.

The truth was, he didn't think he could survive without Clarke.

He had been an idiot, a complete tool since they hit the ground.

But she made him better.

She had a way of seeing the best in people. Even shitty people like him.

If it weren't for her, everyone on the ground would either be dead or captured by now.

He knew they needed her to survive. He needed her to survive.

Clarke looked at the boy in front of her, weakened by disease, he was still beautiful.

He was an enigma.

A man ready to fight for his people, but also ready to let his people die so he could live.

She understood, she too felt betrayed by the Ark.

They had more in common than she used to care to admit.

They both had lost a parent, they both only had one person left in the world that they truly cared about and at any moment that person could be ripped from their grasp.

She sat next to him, placing a careful hand on his back.

Bellamy ignored how good it felt to be touched by her.

He took her offering of water, and again ignored to feeling of electricity that sparked between their finger tips.

He looked at her, up and down.

She was still in one piece.

"Are you feeling any better?" He asked, praying that she was. She didn't deserve to feel this way.

"Yeah." Clarke nodded.

She wanted to reassure him. She wanted him to feel loved. She cared about him, more than she wanted to admit.

He had no one, his sister didn't understand the sacrifices he had made for her.

But Clarke did. She wanted him to feel better for once. To feel protected.

"That's good." He replied. His voice was weak, but she could tell her words that comforted him.

"Have you seen Octavia?" He asked, now that he knew Clarke was okay, he moved on to the only other person he really cared about.

Clarke's heart swooned. Always the big brother.

"She was up all night helping people..." Clarke began, smiling, "Murphy gave her a break." She admitted.

"Don't tell me you trust him?" Bellamy demanded, he thought they were on the same wavelength. But if she trusted Murphy... maybe they didn't have as much in common as he thought.

"Trust... no..." Clarke began, much to Bellamy's relief, "I do believe in second chances though." She whispered, looking directly at him.

He had to know, that this wasn't about Murphy anymore.

She wanted him to know that she trusted him, that she cared for him. That life on the ground was made 100x easier by his existence.

"Really?" He whispered in reply.

Maybe if Clarke could forgive him, maybe he was worth saving.

"Really." She smiled, her eyes drifting to his lips.

What was one tiny kiss? Even if it meant getting sick again?

She needed him to know that she was here and that she cared about him.

She reached forward, and pressed her lips ever so softly to his.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he let himself savour the kiss before pulling away.

"You'll get sick." He said, his voice gravelly.

"It'll be worth it." She whispered, kissing him again.

It was very likely that they would die at dawn, and she wasn't going to march toward death without telling him how she felt.

Bellamy smiled against her lips, but pulled away, coughing heavily.

She patted his back softly, worried for him.

"You should rest." She whispered, running circles on his back.

She began to stand, to leave him to sleep, but he caught her hand.

"Stay with me?" He asked, his sad eyes begging.

"Of course." She whispered.

Bellamy lay down and Clarke lay beside him.

She wrapped both her arms around him and his head lay on her chest.

"Thank you," She heard Bellamy whisper, "for giving me something to fight for."

She smiled.

"Get some sleep." She chided, kissing him on the forehead. With Bellamy in her arms she wasn't worried about death, for a second she felt peace.

Bellamy's breathing began to slow, and she knew he was asleep. She wrapped her arms tighter around him.

He could die. Her peace turned into worry as she thought about losing him.

She wouldn't lose him. She would fight, tooth and nail to keep him safe.

"Thank you," she whispered to herself, stroking Bellamy's hair softly,

"For giving me something to fight for."