Isaac took a shuddering breath as he ran the cloth across Bellamy's forehead, wiping away the sweat that had gathered like a crown. He hate seeing Bellamy like this. He was weak and scared and nothing like his normal, confident self. It made the awkward fear of something going wrong that had settled in Isaac's stomach grow, and he could feel his stomach churning in a nervous turmoil as he gazed down at the camp's leader.
Octavia had just recently left her brother's side, leaving Isaac in her place, claiming that she really didn't trust anyone else with him, except maybe Clarke. But Clarke was busy as it was and in all honesty she preferred the taller boy to the short blonde, making her decision easy. Bellamy shifted in his sleep, a crease forming between his brows. Isaac caught sight of a glisten on his forehead and leaned forwards, carefully wiping it away while trying not to wake the older boy.
"...Octavia?" Bellamy's voice was distant and tired sounding, making Isaac unsure if the boy was talking in his sleep or if he was really waking up. He got his answer when Bellamy's hand drifted up along his mattress, dragging the corner of his blanket with. His fingers twitched and he squirmed, his eyelids fluttering open slowly. Lips parting, Bellamy was hardly half-awake when he began struggling to sit up.
Isaac placed a firm hand on the boy's chest, and Bellamy's head snapped towards him only to receive a look from the taller boy. "You need to rest," Isaac told him softly.
Bellamy's head turned and his eyes were darting all over the room. "Octavia-" he began.
"She's fine, Bellamy," Isaac assured him. "She's just getting some more water." Bellamy nodded tiredly. He looked exhausted. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was both sweaty and pale. Isaac squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. "You're looking better," he said. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of blood on his face or the fact that maybe he did really look better, but Bellamy certainly didn't seem as sickly as he had when he came in earlier. He'd stopped coughing blood a while ago, and while he was still quite colorless, he was less of a ghostly white than he'd been before.
"I feel better," Bellamy admitted, but he wasn't up to full strength yet. His head was still resting back against the mattress and his eyes were half closed. "Is it sad that this is the most relaxed I've been in... years?"
Isaac shook his head. "Yes," he said truthfully. He earned a look from Bellamy, but he simply raised an eyebrow in response. "You might be sick but at least you're sleeping," he sighed, turning to dip his rag back into the canteen of dirty water. "And if it helps, I was thinking the same thing about myself."
Now it was Bellamy's turn to raise his eyebrows. "You've been running around like a headless chicken trying to take care of everyone," he observed.
"And most of them are better now," Isaac reminded him. "Like you said, I've never been more relaxed." Then he furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, except for the imminent threat of death and the fact that the grounders are coming to kill us as we speak."
Bellamy scoffed, but it sounded more like a raspy cough. Isaac blinked at him, bending to grab a cup of water. "Here," he said, handing it to Bellamy. The darker haired boy nodded gratefully, taking a gulp or two before handing it back to Isaac.
"You're quite the optimist, huh?" he joked.
Isaac shrugged, an embarrassed smile making it's way onto his face. "I try," he quipped back.
Bellamy chuckled lowly before he stopped and looked up at Isaac almost curiously. "You've changed," he observed quietly, seeming serious all of a sudden, "since we've gotten down here, I mean."
Isaac shrugged off the words easily, the statement slipping over his back like water off of an umbrella. "You're not the first person to tell me that today," he admitted.
Bellamy shook his head. "No, I mean... not in the way that Murphy meant. You're-" he frowned. "I don't know if I can describe it. But you're different."
"Different how, then?" Isaac was only half paying attention now, glancing over his shoulder at the older Blake as he scrubbed some blood off of the floor.
"You um..." Bellamy waved a hand in the air as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "You're more confident. You talk more, you joke more. You do more to protect us. And I think you're learning that emotions aren't a disease. You aren't like you used to be, I guess. Closed off and weird. Though-" Bellamy paused to add in a small chuckle, "-you're still a little weird though."
Isaac bit back a remark at the comment and instead gave the older boy an impish smile, one of his eyebrows lifted up. Bellamy found himself smiling back. He hadn't known before because the boy had never smiled in the earlier days, but when Isaac grinned, it was contagious. His eyes lit up and his teeth showed and it was actually quite amazing. "Thanks," Isaac said finally, after a few moments.
Bellamy nodded and suddenly he was sitting up, the serious look back on his face, though there was a hint of joy behind his dark eyes that made Isaac send him a questioning look. "You know... me and Clarke-" Isaac subtly perked up at the mention of Clarke's name, something that definitely didn't go unnoticed by Bellamy, who smiled at this, "we could always use some help running the camp."
Isaac nodded as he inspected Bellamy's face, trying to see where he was going with this. "I've always liked Jasper," Isaac suggested, and Bellamy rolled his eyes at the younger boy.
"Isaac," he groaned. "I mean you." Isaac's eyes widened and his head tilted as he looked at Bellamy, disbelievingly.
"What?"
"I'm asking you, if you'd like to help me and Clarke lead the 100."
Isaac bit his lip. "I'm happy you trust me, Bellamy, I really am, but... I don't think the others feel the same way about me."
Bellamy shook his head, a bit angry at the thought. "Then we'll make them feel the same way," he said forcefully. "Isaac, you deserve a hell of a lot more than you've been given."
The taller boy shrugged simply. "Maybe I don't want more?" he suggested, only a bit timidly. "I feel like I'm finally in a decent place. Asking for something else, I'm-" he took a breath, feeling a bit silly admitting it. "I feel like I'd just ruin what I have," he admitted. "It's like if you have a hundred bucks, and if you win the coin toss, you get a hundred more. But if you lose, you get no extra money and that original hundred taken away from you. I'm afraid of losing."
"But you won't," Bellamy assured him. "I'll be there, helping you. And so will Clarke. And I'll be damned if Octavia doesn't try to get involved. You're like a second brother to her."
Isaac threw his hands up in the air, but not out of exasperation. "Look, I-" he pulled his top lip in between his teeth, tugging on it. "It's up to you."
"I want you on our team," Bellamy said, confidently, without missing a beat. "Isaac, I want you to help lead. Is that okay with you?"
Isaac almost said nothing, but he finally nodded. "Yeah," he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Yeah, I'm okay with it. I just don't see why you'd want me to try and lead these people."
"Because I know you can do it," Bellamy admitted. "Clarke knows it. Jasper and Monty know it. Octavia knows it, Finn and Raven know it. More people are ready for this than you know."
"That's seven people," Isaac reminded the boy. "Out of almost a hundred. The rest of them still treat me like- a- a freak. I guess I-"
"You're not a freak." Isaac turned his head to the doorway where the voice had come from, and saw Clarke. She walked into the drop ship, a serious look on her face. "You're smart, you're collected, you're incredibly... just incredibly incredible. And if they can't see that then they'll have to deal with me."
"And me," Bellamy put in. "Trust me, this will work."
"And I know some people who are already very willing to follow you," Clarke said, and somehow Isaac knew she was talking about herself.
He slumped against the wall, a disbelieving smile on his face. "I- thank you," he breathed, letting out a teary laugh. "Both of you."
"Hey, don't cry," Bellamy blurted, seeming a bit shocked.
"Sorry," Isaac waved a hand, laughing at Bellamy's utter panic. He leaned his head back against the wall, a grin on his face as tears of joy blurred his vision. "Thank you so much," he said.
"I know we won't regret it," Clarke beamed, happy at the sight of Isaac smiling genuinely.
Almost as if the universe was finally on their side, a loud, earth shaking explosion sounded just then. All three leaders looked up, eyes wide. Isaac pushed himself to his feet and quickly made his way to the doorway of the drop ship, where he saw a huge cloud of smoke rising up above the trees, towering over them like a giant. He turned back to the inside of the drop ship, already cheering erupting form outside. "They did it," he said. "Raven did it."
Clarke nodded solemnly. "I am become death, destroyer of worlds," she quoted, before turning to Bellamy. "It's Oppenheimer, the man who built to first-"
Bellamy cut her off with his signature smirk. "I know who Oppenheimer is," he told her, before motioning for Isaac to come join them back by his mattress.
* * * * *
"You're outside the wall without a gun." Isaac jumped at the sudden words and turned to see Bellamy approaching both him and Clarke. Isaac shyly removed his arm from it's spot around Clarke's shoulders, adjusting himself so he could face Bellamy fully. Clarke did the same, her delicate fingers sliding across Isaac's back as she retracted her arm from his waist in a way that made him shiver.
She had no idea the effect she had on him.
"We need to talk about Murphy," Bellamy started, and Isaac felt his throat tighten at the words.
"He was right about the bridge," Clarke found herself defending the boy.
"We'll see about that," Bellamy deadpanned, staring broodily into the forest ahead. "Octavia says the Mountain Men are pissed, whatever that means."
"I'd say it means we need to get as many soldiers as we can," Clarke said.
"So what, we have pardon power now?" Bellamy scoffed. Even Isaac was a bit miffed as to why Clarke was suggesting they let Murphy stay.
"It's hard running things," Clarke said, looking at Bellamy. Then she turned back to the graves. "Fourteen," she muttered, before leaving.
Isaac and Bellamy shared a look. "What do you think?" the elder one of the two asked.
Isaac pursed his lips and his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't trust him," he admitted. "But he seems like he wants to change. I think we should respect that."
And to his surprise, Bellamy nodded.
* * * * *
"Clarke!" Isaac called after the girl, who was walking away. The girl stopped for a moment, turning to look at Isaac. "Hey, can I talk to you?" His fingers were playing with one another and there was an anxious look on his face.
Clarke frowned, nodding. "Of course," she said. "You look nervous, is everything okay?" she asked, inspecting his face.
Isaac gulped. He'd been mentally debating about this, for days. His breathing was shaking ever so slightly and his hands were clammy. "Okay... um-" he cleared his throat. "Clarke, I have to tell you something, and I really, really need you to listen."
"Yeah," Clarke nodded him along. "What is it?"
He squeezed his eyes shut. "Um, well... so- so there's this thing... that I have, uh... it's been going on for a while, and I know it'll never ever be reciprocated because you are far too good for me to ever possibly deserve you and I know you and Finn, well, you sort of have a thing but- u-uh..." Isaac's voice was lost for a moment and he couldn't find the words he was trying to speak.
"Isaac?"
His mouth was dryer than a desert but somehow he managed to gather up his voice. "Clarke, I- I-" he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I love you."
He regretted saying it the moment it flew past his lips. It wasn't as if he didn't mean it, because he most definitely did mean it -he loved Clarke Griffin and that was a fact. But telling her was something huge, especially when he wasn't expecting the answer to the confession to be in his favor. Clarke said nothing, and there was only an thickening silence. "Clarke..." Isaac's voice was so soft it was almost unheard. "Please, say something," he begged. Clarke still kept silent.
He didn't want to open his eyes after that. There was a silence and he could only imagine what Clarke's face would look like. Disgusted, maybe. Probably shocked. Disturbed. Uncomfortable. But when he opened his eyes she wasn't giving him any of those looks -however he recognized the expression on her face.
She was sorry.
It was like a shot to the stomach. She didn't love him back, that much was clear.
They stared at each other, Isaac looking incredibly pained and regretting everything he'd done up until that moment, and Clarke looking like she pitied him. Finally, soft lips parted and Clarke spoke in a hushed tone. "Isaac..." his name was enough to send to boy into shivers. Her voice was so soft, and even now, caring. He was vulnerable and she was strong and she was amazing and she was compassionate. "I'm sorry," she bowed her head, shaking it. "I don't-"
Isaac sniffed, turning his head so she couldn't see the expression on his face. "I get it," he sighed, his voice thicker sounding than normal. "You don't feel the same way. It's -I understand."
"I don't know how I feel about you," Clarke said, and Isaac peered at her nervously. "But I don't love you." He nodded dejectedly, just barely suppressing the urge to run himself through with a spear from humiliation. "Isaac, I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize." He sounded exhausted and Clarke felt her heart clench. "You can't..." he laughed bitterly. "It was more than I could hope for. I was foolish."
It was silent again until Clarke broke it. "How long?" she asked.
Isaac didn't want to talk. He didn't want to move, or blink, or breathe, or function. But he did anyway, for Clarke. "When I was stabbed, and I thought I was going to die... I tried to tell you something. Um..."
Clarke's eyes widened. "That was weeks ago!"
"I know." Isaac took a deep, shuddering breath. "I think I'm going to go now." He turned away and began walking in the opposite direction.
"Isaac, wait-" Clarke called after him.
Isaac looked back at her, defeated. "Please, if you're going to break my heart, can I at least walk away without you calling me back to make me feel worse than I already do?"
Clarke was physically hurting from his words. He sounded so shattered, and only then did she realize the effect her confession had had on him. She shook her head, and a strand of hair fell into her eyes. She didn't bother to remove it. "I want you to know I'm really, really sorry," she said.
Isaac tried to smile, but he looked like a broken toy trying to preform a trick it had only known how to do before it had been chipped away at. His shoulders were sagging and he looked six inches shorter than he really was, and yet he felt even shorter than that. His hand reached up and Clarke noticed it was shaking, and he carefully took the strand of hair that was hanging free and tucked it carefully behind Clarke's ear. "I'm sorry too," he whispered. Clarke barely heard him speak, but she clearly heard the crack in his voice before he turned away and hurried off.
A/N: im so sorry. i am SO so sorry. you don't even know how freaking sorry I am. I almost cried writing this. I actually hate myself. what have i done.
BUT DO NOT WORRY BECAUSE THIS IS NOT THE END. DON'T LOSE HOPE BECAUSE SERIOUSLY THINGS WILL GET BETTER OKAY I PROMISE. ALSO IT IS TOTALLY OKAY TO HATE ME RIGHT NOW I DESERVE YOUR HATE AFTER WHAT I DID.
MY heart shATREed.
but seriously hold out on this ship guys i promise it'll happen just not right now.