Too Close For Comfort — A void!Bellamy fic (and pain)
Summary: “If you’re going to kill me,” Clarke forced the words out with a shaky voice, until she opened her eyes and found the strength to continue. His grip loosened in a quick reaction of shock, and she grabs his wrist and pulls. “Make it a clear shot because I’m not giving up on you, Bellamy.”
“It’s quite the full circle moment don’t you think?” He argues, tugging his hand out of her grasp to step back and retreat. “You were the one that almost killed me and now I get to actually kill you. It’s been a long time coming.”
She doesn’t know that she’s crying until Bellamy’s hand comes up to cradle her jaw, leaning into her ear and his words are far from comforting. “He doesn’t need you anymore, Wanheda.” The name slips off his tongue so easy that she wonders if he’s been conditioned to use it as a tactic. If the disciples forced an image in his brain to remember her. “I don’t want anything from you. I never did, and I thank Andreas for showing me the light.”
“You don’t mean that, you can’t—“
“Tears are a sign of weakness.” He whispered lowly, and she felt like a fool when she relished in the feeling of his fingers brushing against his skin only for his grip to tighten around the side of her neck. “Killers don’t cry, Clarke.” Bellamy said it as if he was annoyed with her antics. She wasn’t doing this on purpose, she was afraid of losing him. “You should know that.”
He was right. Killers don’t cry, they fight.
“If you’re going to kill me,” Clarke forced the words out with a shaky voice, until she opened her eyes and found the strength to continue. His grip loosened in a quick reaction of shock, and she grabs his wrist and pulls. “Make it a clear shot because I’m not giving up on you, Bellamy.”
“It’s quite the full circle moment don’t you think?” He argues, tugging his hand out of her grasp to step back and retreat. “You were the one that almost killed me and now I get to actually kill you. It’s been a long time coming.”
Clarke takes a deep breath, not taking his words to heart. This wasn’t the Bellamy she knew. This was a version of him that was brainwashed to believe the worst in his family. In his partner.
“There’s no one else I’d rather be with as I die.”
“The feelings are mutual.” He surprises her then, lunging forward to grab her shoulders and pull to the ground.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works