Bellarke + "things you were afraid to say"
They hold a funeral for Clarke in space.
It’s not actually planned. In the days following their abrupt return to space, the six of them happen to find one of the control rooms of the Ark– where the screens are still, improbably, lit with the faces and stats of the 100 who originally came down– and they find Clarke’s monitor.
Her photo is nice, if you look behind the words “TRANSMISSION TERMINATED”. Her sun-spun hair is straight and clean, face soft, gaze open, and so, so young. The kind of image people want depicted at funerals. After a long silence Harper suggests they all say something to honour her.
Bellamy hates the suggestion immediately, but there are relieved nods all around. And he’ll never be one to deprive his friends of closure, so he says nothing at all.
Harper goes first, with stories from the dropship and a few sentences about the kind of person Clarke was, and they all chip in after that. Even Murphy, who merely says, “I guess there could have been worse people to lead us,” seems less sarcastic than usual.
But when it’s Bellamy’s turn, he can’t say a damn thing.
“Bellamy?” Harper asks tentatively when the silence stretches further and further. “Is there anything you want to say?”
Bellamy looks away from the monitor and just shakes his head. There are a lot of things he should have said. Things he was too afraid to tell her, or didn’t think there was time for.
But how long would it have taken to say he admired her skills, while she was bandaging his hand? How much courage would it have taken to tell her thank you for giving him a cup of water? How long would it take to say I missed you when she hugged him? What bravery, or time, would it require to tell her that he was glad she was here, with him? Exactly how long does it take to tell someone you love them?
“Are you sure?” Raven says softly, brushing against his arm. The touch jolts him back to reality, and for a moment, he teeters dangerously on the edge of saying some of those words.
He opens his mouth and then closes it and shakes his head again. Thankfully, they don’t push him, and begin to spread out, exploring the room again. Bellamy remains rooted to the spot.
Those flowery words he wanted to say are irrelevant now, with her burned away and obliterated just like the rest of the beautiful things on Earth.
But there is one thing that cannot be destroyed, and that’s the promise he made her. Words no longer hold meaning in his relationship with Clarke. Only his actions do.
Bellamy looks around the destroyed control room and clears his throat, which makes them all look at him. “I think we should clean up in here. Might make a usable living space.”
How long does it take to tell someone you love them?
As he starts to pick through the debris, towards the rebuilding of their future, he finds a certain calm in the answer: he will tell her he loves her, with the rest of his life.