Hey all! This was my attempt to feel a little better after the season finale. I was surprised that I liked it from a storyteller's perspective, but not from the perspective of a viewer. As a viewer, I felt a little broken. This is my response to that brokenness.

Reviews always appreciated. It's always motivating to know that people are enjoying the story and actually want to read it. Plus you guys are really great at giving ideas :)

Enjoy!

Bellamy had spent the night fiddling with the radio. He didn't know anything about them, and he was dog-tired, but he couldn't bring himself to go to sleep. Every time his eyelids fluttered shut he saw their faces. Octavia. Clarke.

Octavia was in the Bunker. He knew she was safe.

Clarke was…he had no idea where she was, but he couldn't let himself think she was dead. She had nightblood. Besides, if he let himself think she was dead, he'd just killed someone far more important to him than he was willing to admit. And for all his bravado, Bellamy would never cause the death of Clarke Griffin. Even when she'd left his sister out to die, he'd promised her mother he wouldn't let anything happen to Clarke.

She'd been in tough shape as they readied the rocket. "Cold sweat," he muttered. "An oxymoron." His voice sounded strange in the nearly-empty metal room.

Everyone else would be in bed by now. They had planted the algae (they were living on algae for five years?!) and staggered off to find sleeping quarters.

Bellamy and Raven had stood on the dock, watching the world burn, Bellamy's core so uncomfortable and tight that he'd known Clarke was more than his head.

He'd tried to tell her on the beach. The world decided to make him wait.

He'd tried to tell her that night she'd pulled a gun on him, when they'd found themselves alone in the med bay. The world had made them too tired.

She'd tried to tell him in the lab. Sparks, the wrong ones, had flown, the world still against them.

"We will meet again," he croaked, sagging into the chair behind him, too tired to remain standing.

Then the radio crackled. Bellamy was on his feet so fast he almost toppled over.

"Bellamy, are you there?" Clarke's voice, raspy and muffled.

"Clarke!" he shouted past the tears.

"Bellamy? If you're listening…"

He shook the radio and tried again. "Clarke!"

"…sick, but the boils are going away." She coughed, and it hurt just to listen to how it must have torn at her lungs and throat. "Nightblood works."

Bellamy let out a strangled sob, lunged for the door, then stopped. He needed Raven to fix the radio, but he couldn't leave.

"I saw the ship," Clarke continued.

Bellamy pressed a shaky fist to his mouth, but that didn't stop the tears that ran down his cheeks. "Clarke," he gulped. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you for leaving."

But Bellamy hated that she said that, wanted there to have been another way.

"It was the right choice. The only choice."

"An oxymoron," he whispered with her. "Damn it. Raven!"

"I'm glad you made it, and didn't wait for me," Clarke kept going.

"RAVEN!"

"But I'm sorry I'm not there. I was looking forward to being in space with you and the others. Away from all the people we had to protect, all the decisions we had to make. I thought—" she coughed wetly again, "I thought we could finally just be us. I thought you and I could finally find peace after all we've had to do."

He was never going to find peace with her down there. "RA-VEN!"

"I'm going to live, Bellamy," Clarke said. "I'm going to be here in five years when you come back."

Raven hurled herself around the corner, and Bellamy realized he must look like a slobbering idiot madman. "What?" she demanded, frantically glancing around the room for the threat that could possibly have Bellamy Blake so desperate for help.

Bellamy pointed to the radio. "Clarke…fix it," he rasped.

Raven stared at him.

"Do you remember the beach, Bell?"

Raven jumped. "That's Clarke," she gasped.

"Fix it," Bellamy begged, not even concerned about what Raven might be about to hear Clarke say. "I need to talk to her. Fix it."

"You started to tell me something, but I didn't want to consider the possibility of not seeing you again."

Raven's fiddling cut off the signal for a moment. Bellamy's heart raced.

"…and then the sparks exploded, and I didn't get to tell you."

"Tell me," Bellamy whispered.

Raven mercifully stopped messing with the radio, standing there silently and staring at it instead of Bellamy.

"And now I realize how cruel it was to interrupt you on the beach, and I'm sorry."

"Tell me."

"We…everything…it was too hard to do alone."

"You didn't, Clarke," Bellamy breathed. "I wouldn't have let you."

"But we had each other and now I don't know how to do this, but I will because I need to see you again. Goodbye, Bellamy."

He couldn't even shout, was too weak and too tired for that. Bellamy sank to the floor, his head hitting the wall. "No."

Raven sat next to him and held him and whispered, "She's alive" while he sobbed.