Scythe || Bellamy Blake

Consequences of Identity

Scythe raced back to the camp, her heart beating wildly from her accomplishment, but also with immeasurable fear. People had died from this virus. She couldn't- wouldn't let Bellamy die too.

People cheered as she ran past them, greeting her with smiles, and none of their usual fearful stares. It was weird, but she didn't dwell on that.

She threw open the hatch of the dropship and raced in, seeing Clarke kneeling over a camper. Scythe rushed over, asking a breathless question in one word, "Bellamy."

Clarke looked up, already seeming better, and her brows furrowed, "Your cheek."

Scythe shook her head, "Is he okay?"

Abby's daughter pointed over to a bedroll in the corner of the ship and Scythe practically flew over to him.

She knelt down next to his shivering form and gently touched his forehead, tensing up when she felt his skin burning. Bellamy stirred, opening his eyes weakly.

He smiled when he saw her, a tired, pain filled smile that set her heart racing all the same, "Skye."

She smiled back, "I'm here."

He reached a hand up and traced a line on her left cheek, frowning, "You're bleeding."

His fingers came back red.

Gripping his hand she shook her head, "Don't worry about me. Just focus on yourself."

"The bridge?" His voice was so soft she had to lean in and she made a noise of confirmation.

His lips parted into a weak smile, "I knew you could do it. I just needed you to know it too."

"You're one of the only people that's ever believed in me," she whispered, remembering the time she was invited to be his second, remembered how he was always there to let her make her own decisions, her own choices.

Bellamy squeezed her hand softly, his hand warm and calloused, "I'm glad you're here."

A warming in her heart, a whisper of feeling that reassured her she wasn't the same assassin that had been thrown into the skybox. She didn't know what she was now, who she was.

    "Only took me one bullet," she gently nudged Bellamy, trying to get him to talk to her to take his mind of his pain.

     His mouth cracked into a halfhearted smile, "Don't get cocky. I could've done it with half of one."

She didn't say anything, just let her shoulders relax and laughed. And then, for the first time in a long time- she finally felt safe enough to lower herself on her side and close her eyes.

Bellamy's arms wrapped around her and she fell into a peaceful oblivion.

~*~*~*

Morning came too soon and it seemed only a few minutes after she had closed her eyes that Scythe was being gently nudged awake. She twisted around to meet Bellamy's tired eyes and she touched his cheek, his skin mercifully feeling cool to the touch, "How are you feeling?"

He nodded, moving a hand through his hair, "Good. Tired, but good."

Scythe smiled, but flinched at the stinging in her cheek. Bellamy frowned, tracing that line again with the rough pad of his thumb, "How did this happen?"

She couldn't breathe, not with the way he was looking at her right now, not with the way his warm hands were on her face. Not when she remembered how close she had come to losing him. A piece of her that seemed to just be mending gave a sharp throb and she pressed a fist to her mouth, leaning in to rest her forehead on Bellamy's chest.