To Bellamy, Love Clarke

18 || Friends Protect Each Other

[Bellamy]

It was in moments like this that Bellamy fully appreciated his friendship with John.

Sure, their interaction usually consisted in more snark and constant teasing than anything else, and if they were ever to have a serious disagreement fists would, sure as hell, be thrown. But both of them knew that if one of them needed help, or was generally feeling like shit, the other would be always by his side. No question asked.

These days, though, it looked like Bellamy was the one to need John the most with his constant screw ups, and if he wasn't too busy staring completely disheartened at the black screen of the 3310 Nokia –that fortunately (or predictably) his fit hadn't so much as scratched- while worrying the High School Musical pen in his coat pocket with his other hand, he'd feel a complete dick. For now, though, the Clarke–induced anxiety clouded any other, more or less, important thought in his mind.

Something latched on his wrist and he looked at the pale fingers blankly.

John squeezed a little too hard and Bellamy snapped out of his thoughts and scowled at his friend. "Ow." He said pulling back his hand and rubbing the sore spot.

John narrowed his eyes and then shook his head, like he was about to say something and thought better of it. "We're embarking," was what he settled for, finally.

Bellamy nodded and, hoisting up his quickly put together backpack, followed his friend.

He shouldn't be such an ass.

After all, John was the one (with a little of the other's help, though) that put together this whole new operation –that Bellamy was calling operation HSMpen in his head (he wasn't sure whether Octavia would be proud or appalled by the choice of name...)– by finding the last-minute flight, smuggle the two of them away from their L.A. house in the middle of the night, without the reporters and Chris(He'd have their heads when they would've come back, but Bellamy decided that he'd worry about it later. One step at a time) noticing, call Octavia –who hadn't answered her phone though- and finally get them to the airport, while Bellamy had been pathetically trying Clarke's phone for half of it and brooding for the other half once he accepted that she wasn't going to answer.

"Murph." Bellamy called his friend while he was looking for their seats.

"What?" John asked not looking back at him and continuing to mumble the numbers of the seats they passed under his breath.

"Thanks."

Murphy stopped. And then turned frowning. "Don't."

Bellamy frowned back, "What do you mean, don't?"

"Don't thank me. I expect you to do the same if I happen to screw up."

"Of course!" Bellamy exclaimed baffled.

"We're good then." John gave him a lopsided grin and then snorted shaking his head, turning back to look for their seats.

[Octavia & Raven]

Two days. Not two months or even two weeks. Two freakin' days.

She had dropped from the face of the earth for only two days and everything had, of course, gone to shit in the meantime. This was further proof that Octavia needed to stay on top of everything, needed to put her nose in her friends' happiness because otherwise snap and all went to hell.

Because Octavia wasn't there to prevent it.

She sighed as she tried to adjust and smooth the wrinkles on her day-before clothes as best as she could.