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Clarke knew she should leave, that eavesdropping wasn’t a good idea. It wasn’t like she meant to linger in the shadows at the edge of camp, listening to Bellamy and Octavia talk in low voices at their lookout post. She was just trying to go for a walk, get some space from the constant, overwhelming press of needs and wants and demands that the Ark threw at her. She needed air, someplace where she didn’t feel as if she was drowning on dry land. Stumbling upon the siblings had been an accident, but staying after hearing her name, well, that was a choice, and one she was beginning to regret.
“Raven says you need to talk to her,” Octavia murmured, not looking at her brother, instead staring at the vast expanse of dark forest beyond the fence.
“When did this become my responsibility? Tell her she can take care of it, if she’s so concerned.”
“Raven’s tried, but Clarke won’t listen to her anymore. And since when was she not your responsibility? Or you hers?” Octavia asked bitterly.
“It’s not like that anymore,” Bellamy retorted, chucking a scrap of metal at the fence. It sparked as it hit the electrified wires, causing Clarke to flinch in surprise at the sharp zinging sound that pierced the night.
Octavia scoffed. “Since when?”
Clarke watched Bellamy, his shadowed jaw flexing as it clenched tensely. “You’re not talking to her either, you know.”
At his biting words, Octavia jerked her head towards him, expression softening. “Bell, I never meant to put you in the middle.”
“I’m on your side, O. Always.”
Octavia sighed tiredly, shaking her head. “Just because I don’t agree with what she did, doesn’t mean I’m right and she’s wrong.” She paused, clearly struggling to get the next words out. “Right now, she needs you more than I do.”
“She doesn’t need anyone.” Bellamy chucked another scrap into the dark, face clenching in anger. “She’s made that very, very clear.”
Clarke sucked in a pained breath and closed her eyes, because even when she was trying to keep him safe—this time from the chaotic, decaying mess that she currently was—she was hurting him.
“Bellamy—”
“Octavia, don’t.”
Huffing in frustration, Octavia tugged on her brother’s arm. “Listen to me. Something needs to be done. Yell at her, get angry, I don’t care. Just goddamn do something before she self-destructs.”
Bellamy just wrenched away from her, pacing closer to the fence.
“If you won’t do it for her, or for Raven, do it for me. This is me asking you to, okay?”
Fingers digging into her palms, Clarke willed away the gathering tears. Everything inside her was screaming for her to leave, before Bellamy could respond. But Clarke had never been very good at living in ignorance, so she stayed, waiting for him to speak.
“Fine,” he ground out. “For you.”
Octavia smiled, sadly, as she stepped up to his side. “Thanks, big brother.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Bellamy didn’t respond, just stared out into the night. Clarke watched him stand there rigidly, so closed-off and stoic. It was an uncomfortable sight to see him not brimming with fight and fervor and fire. Backing away, Clarke struggled to breathe, because somehow, she had done that to him, and it broke her heart.