An alternate scene in episode 1.07. Clarke and Bellamy disagree on how to handle the captured Lincoln. Because there’s no coming back once you cross that line.
690 words | rating: PG-13
“There are things you do, and things you don’t do,” Clarke said, voice full of righteous indignation. “And this crosses the line.”
Bellamy stepped into her space. She stumbled back—uncertainty replacing the disapproval on her face. “And who decides where that line is? You?”
Her eyes darted to the grounder tied up behind him. “This is wrong, and you know it.”
Bellamy lowered his voice so only she could hear. “All I know is that I have to protect this camp. That’s what everyone wants, right?”
“This isn’t the way to do it.”
“Then tell me what is the right way. What am I supposed to do here?”
Her mouth opened then closed wordlessly. That shut her up. The problem was he knew she was right. It made him angry and resentful, but he was stuck. What was he supposed to do? Let Finn die?
“Torture isn’t the answer,” she finally whispered.
“Clarke.” Bellamy sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time to argue or wait for him to get chatty.”
“There has to be another way.”
“There isn’t. Finn is going to die.”
She crossed her arms in an obvious challenge. “You were willing to let Jasper die. You helped them hang Murphy. You took the radio to save your own ass. You’ve never cared about anyone but yourself. Now suddenly you care if Finn lives or dies?”
What the hell? Was that really what she thought of him? She stared him down until he looked away, ashamed. Of course she thought that. Why wouldn’t she after all the things he did? But this was different. Things were different. Frustrated, Bellamy scrubbed a hand over his face. “Clarke-”
She cut him off. “You don’t even like Finn.”
“But you do,” he said, eyes on his boots. He swallowed hard. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “And Raven cares,” he added, but he knew the damage was done.
Bellamy ran a hand through his hair. “Look, it doesn’t matter what I think about Finn. All that matters is he’s going to die if we don’t get some information. Is that what you want? Because it’s starting to sound that way. He did break your heart so why not let him die?” That was low. She looked away, biting her lip. “The lines sure get fuzzy when it’s someone you care about, huh?” he said softly.
When she looked up, her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. “Please don’t do this, Bellamy.
“Then give me another option,” he pleaded. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do, Clarke, because I’m making this up as I go along. Finn’s going to die if I don’t do something. And we’re out of time.”
Behind him, Miller stopped pacing. “Yo, Bellamy, we going to do this or what?”
Clarke shot Miller a disgusted look. When she turned back, she looked drained. “This isn’t you.”
“Maybe not, but it’s who I need to be if we’re going to survive.” His fingers brushed her arm. “Someone has to make the hard decisions. Better me than you.”
Bellamy held his breath, hoping the conversation was over because he couldn’t handle her looking at him with that mixture of pity and disappointment. He sighed, dropping his hand. “You should go. Check on Finn.” He didn’t want her here. Didn’t want her seeing him like this. “Please, Clarke.”
She looked ready to argue, but the desperation in his voice must have changed her mind because she let out a tired breath. “This is a line you can’t uncross, Bellamy.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I know.”
She gave him one last grim look before disappearing down the ladder. Bellamy closed his eyes. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning with one more reason to hate himself. Why couldn’t she understand that?
“Let’s do this,” Miller said way too enthusiastically.
Bellamy picked up one of the straps laying on the ground. He rubbed his thumb over the buckle. “It’s just who I have to be,” he mumbled before turning towards the grounder, jaw clenched with determination.