The 100

25 Bellamy

Bellamy stared into the flickering flames, the buzz of conversation around him mingling with the cracking of the logs. It had been a few hours since his confrontation with Octavia, and so far there’d been no sign of her. He hoped she’d return the medicine soon. He couldn’t force her to hand it over, he knew, or their relationship would never recover. He had to show that he trusted her, and she had to do the right thing to win back that trust.

The rain had stopped, but the ground was still damp. A few scuffles had broken out over the handful of rocks that had become VIP seating around the campfire, but for the most part, everyone seemed willing to tolerate the soggy grass to sit close to the warmth of the flames. A few girls had sought out a third option and were now perched on the laps of smug-looking boys.

He scanned the circle, searching for Clarke. There was much more smoke than usual, probably because all the firewood was wet, and it took a few moments for his eyes to settle on the familiar glint of her reddish-gold hair. He squinted and realized, to his surprise, that she was sitting next to Wells. They weren’t touching, or even speaking, but something had changed between them. The tension that wracked Clarke’s body whenever Wells came near had disappeared, and instead of shooting wounded, furtive looks at Clarke when her head was turned, Wells was staring placidly into the fire, a content look on his face.

A shard of resentment worked its way into Bellamy’s stomach. He should have known it would only be a matter of time before Clarke went running back to Wells. He should never have kissed her in the woods. He’d only ever really cared about one other girl before—and he’d gotten hurt that time too.

The clouds were thick enough to block out most of the stars, but Bellamy tilted his head back anyway, wondering how much warning they’d have before the next dropship arrived. Would they be able to see it tearing toward them—a warning flare in the sky?

But then his eyes fell on a figure moving through the darkness toward the fire: the shadowy outline of a tiny girl with her head held high. Bellamy rose to his feet as Octavia stepped into the pool of light cast by the dancing flames, sending a ripple of whispers around the circle.

“Oh, for the love of god.” Bellamy heard Graham groan. “Who the hell was supposed to be watching her tonight?”

Wells shot Clarke a look, then stood to face Graham. “It’s fine,” he said. “She can join us.”

Octavia paused, looking from Wells to Graham as the boys glared at each other. But before either of them had time to speak, she took a breath and stepped forward. “I have something to say,” she said. She was trembling, but her voice was firm.

The excited whispers and confused murmurs trailed off as nearly a hundred heads turned to face Octavia. In the flickering firelight, Bellamy could see the panic creeping across her face, and felt a sudden urge to run over and hold her hand. But he forced his feet to stay rooted to the ground. He’d spent so long trying to take care of the little girl in his mind that he’d never gotten to know the person she’d become. And right now, this was something she had to do on her own.

“I did take the medicine,” Octavia began. She paused to let as a viaher words sink in, then took a deep breath and continued as a rumble of I knew its and I told you sos began to build like thunder. Octavia told the group a similar version of the story she’d told Bellamy earlier that day—how hard it’d been growing up in the care center, how her dependence on pills had turned into an addiction.

The muttering ceased as Octavia’s voice cracked. “Back on the Colony, I never thought I was hurting anyone. Stealing just seemed like a way to get what I deserved. I figured everyone deserved to be able to fall asleep at night. To wake up without feeling that your nightmares had left scars inside your head.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Bellamy could see the faint shimmer of tears. “I was so selfish, so scared. But I never meant to hurt Thalia, or anyone.” She turned to Clarke and swallowed the sob that seemed to be forming in her throat. “I’m so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but all I can ask is that you give me a chance to start over.” She raised her chin and looked around the circle until she saw Bellamy, and she gave him a small smile. “Just like everyone here wants to do. I know a lot of us have done things we’re not proud of, but we’ve been given a chance for a new beginning. I know I almost ruined it for a lot of you, but I’d like to start over—to become a better person, to help make Earth the world we want it to be.”

Bellamy’s heart swelled with pride. Tears were beginning to blur his vision, although if anyone called him out on it, he’d blame it on the smoke. His sister’s life had been full of suffering and hardship from the very beginning. She’d made mistakes—they both had—but she’d still managed to stay brave and strong.

For a moment, no one spoke. Even the crackling of the fire faded away, as if Earth itself were holding its breath. But then Graham’s voice barreled through the silence. “That’s bullshit.”

Bellamy bristled as a spark of anger sizzled across his chest, but he gritted his teeth. Of course Graham was going to be a bastard about it—that didn’t mean the others hadn’t been touched by Octavia’s speech. But instead of prompting scoffs or disapproving whispers, Graham’s words unleashed a tide of murmured assent that swelled quickly into shouts. He looked around the circle as he continued. “Why should we bust our asses all day, chopping wood, hauling water, doing whatever it takes to keep everyone alive, just to let some delusional drug addict walk all over us? It’s like being—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Bellamy said, cutting him off. He glanced at Octavia. Her bottom lip had begun to quiver as her eyes darted around the fire. “You’ve made your point. But there are ninety-four other people here with opinions of their own, and they don’t need you to tell them what to think.”

“I agree with Graham,” a girl’s voice called out. Bellamy turned and saw a short-haired Waldenite glaring at Octavia. “ We all had shitty lives back on the Colony, but you don’t see anyone else stealing.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who knows what she’ll take next time.”

“Everyone just relax.” Clarke had risen to her feet. “She apologized. We have to give her a second chance.” Bellamy stared at her in surprise, waiting for the surge of indignation. After all, she was the one who’d accused Octavia in the first place. But as he looked at Clarke, all he felt was gratitude.

“No.” Graham’s voice was hard and as he looked around the circle, his eyes flashed with something other than reflected firelight. He turned to Wells, who was still standing next to Clarke. “It’s just like you sust boaid. There has to be some kind of order, or else there’s no way in hell we’ll make it.”

“So what do you recommend?” Wells asked. Graham smiled, and Bellamy felt like someone had poured ice water down his back. Fixing Graham with a glare, he hurried over to Octavia and put his arm around her.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Graham said, turning to Bellamy and Octavia. “But we don’t have a choice. She put Thalia’s life at risk. We can’t take any chances. Octavia needs to die.”

“What?” Bellamy sputtered. “Are you insane?” He jerked his head from side to side, expecting to see a sea of similarly revolted faces. But while a few people were staring at Graham in shock, a number were nodding.

Bellamy stepped protectively in front of Octavia, who was trembling violently. He’d burn the goddamn planet to a crisp before he let anyone near his sister.

“Should we put it to a vote?” Graham raised his chin and nodded at Wells. “You’re the one who was so excited to bring democracy back to Earth. It seems only fair.”

“This is not what I meant,” Wells snapped. His face had lost its politician’s reserve, his features twisted with anger. “We’re not going to vote about whether to kill people.”

“No?” Graham raised an eyebrow. “So it’s okay for your father, but not for us.”

Bellamy winced and closed his eyes as he heard sounds of agreement ripple through the crowd. It was exactly what he would’ve said in that situation, except that Bellamy would have only meant it as a jab at

Wells. He’d never actually propose killing someone.

“The Council doesn’t execute people for fun.” Wells’s voice shook with fury. “Keeping humanity alive in space required extraordinary measures. So me ti me s cruel measures.” Wells paused. “But we have a chance to do better.”

“So what?” Graham growled. “You’re just going to give her a slap on the wrist and then make everyone pinky swear not to break the rules?” A few snickers rose up from the crowd.

“No.” Wells shook his head. “You’re right. There needs to be consequences.” He took a deep breath. “We’ll banish them from camp.” His voice was firm, but when he turned to Bellamy, his eyes seemed to contain a strange mixture of anguish and relief.

“Banish?” Graham repeated. “So they can sneak back whenever they want and steal more supplies? That’s bullshit.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was drowned out as the buzz of voices grew louder. Finally, a girl Bellamy vaguely recognized from Walden stood up. “That sounds fair,” she called out, shouting to be heard over the crowd, which grew quiet as heads turned to look at her. “As long as they promise never to come back.”

Bellamy tightened his arm around Octavia, who’d gone limp. He nodded. “We’ll leave at sunrise.” He turned to smile at Octavia—this is what he’d planned all along. So then why did he feel more apprehension than relief?

The fire died down, and darkness settled over the camp like a blanket, muffling footsteps and muting voices as shadowy figures disappeared into tents or carried blankets toward the edges of the clearing.

Bel si mufflilamy set up a makeshift cot for Octavia at the short end, near the wreckage of the dropship. They hadn’t said it aloud, but they both knew neither of them wanted to sleep in a tent tonight.

Octavia curled up on her blanket and closed her eyes, though it was clear she wasn’t sleeping. The trip back into the woods with Clarke to retrieve the medicine had been a tense one. No one had spoken, though Bellamy could feel Clarke’s eyes boring into his back as he led the way.

Now he sat next to Octavia, his back against a tree, staring into the darkness. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact that tomorrow, they would leave forever.

A shape moved through the shadows toward them. Wells. He had Bellamy’s bow slung over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Wells said quietly as Bellamy rose to his feet. “I’m sorry about what happened back there. I know banishment sounds harsh, but I wasn’t sure what else to do.” He sighed. “I really thought Graham was going to convince them to…” He trailed off as his eyes fell on Octavia. “Not that I would’ve let that happen, but there’s only two of us and a lot of them.”

Bellamy felt a smartass retort rise in his throat but swallowed it back down. Wells had done the best thing he could under the circumstances. “Thank you.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then Bellamy cleared his throat. “Listen, I should probably…” He paused. “I’m sorry about your father.” Bellamy took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Wells’s eyes. “I hope he’s okay.”

“Thank you,” Wells said quietly. “I do too.” He fell silent for a moment, but when he spoke again, his voice was firm. “I know you were just trying to protect your sister. I would’ve done the same thing.” He smiled. “I suppose I sort of did. Wells extended his hand. “I hope you and Octavia stay safe out there.”

Bellamy shook his hand and smiled ruefully. “I can’t imagine anything out there worse than Graham. Keep an eye on that kid.”

“Will do.” Wells nodded, then turned around and headed back into the darkness.

Bellamy lowered himself to the blanket and stared out into the clearing. He could just make out the shape of the infirmary tent where Clarke would be giving Thalia the long-awaited medicine. His stomach twisted strangely as he thought back to the scene by the fire, the flames flickering over Clarke’s determined face. He’d never known a girl who was so beautiful and intense at once.

Bellamy leaned back with a sigh and closed his eyes, wondering how long it would take until she stopped being the last person he thought about before he fell asleep.