The 100 imagines and preferences

Bellamy Blake Imagine

"I don't need a babysitter." You muttered as Bellamy sunk into the ground next to you, the hard metal wall at his back. "I didn't mean what I said before, it was just a joke."

I was a lit, of course. When you had made the comment to Raven and Monty about hating yourself, about not wanting to wake up every night when you went to sleep, there was only false humor there. You had meant what you said, every word.

You regretted saying something so stupid and honest to your friends. Now they hovered around you every waking moment, making sure you didn't do anything too rash.

In a way it should have been reassuring to know there were those who wanted you to hang on, but their extended presence had only made you feel worse. The anguish you had buried deep under mountains of work and sleep deprivation was brought to the forefront of your mind every time you caught them sharing an exchanged glance of concern, every weak and worried smile they spared you, and every instance they tried to get you to open up to them.

"You don't have to lie with me." He assured you. The pads of his fingers brushing over the back of your hand.

"All those people are dead because of me." You blurted. More than just the weight of your words passed between you two. It was the memories of empty eyes and arms thrown around loved ones in a final embrace. It was the guilt that echoed in your ears through the voices of those you had killed.

"You did what you had to do."

"We both know that's bullshit." You answered in a hollow voice. "I don't deserve to be alive any more than they do."

"And so what if you don't?" Bellamy asked in a rush kind of desperation. "We need you, Y/N. Raven, Monty, Jasper, Miller, Octavia, Harper and all the others- they need you to keep holding on because we can't keep going without you."

Your response was locked somewhere deep inside your chest, and with your eyes already stinging you kept it stuck there in fear of releasing a sob if you spoke.

"I can't keep going without you." Bellamy admitted, his hand fully enveloping yours and squeezing it tightly. He let your head drop onto his chest, rubbing small circles into your back as you shock with silent tears.