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Clarke?!

[ When he can't immediately find her on his return, he goes to the comms. Bellamy doesn't fuck around when he's worried that the guilt that had driven Clarke out of Camp Jaha might be haunting her now. ]

( well, aren't you the light at the end of the tunnel that is perpetual ghost haunting. clarke's so quick snatch up her tablet and accept the call that she almost drops it, and when she speaks his name in turn — )

Bellamy?

( — it sounds like she's been punched in the gut. )

I thought you'd — gone.

I did. However Octavia got out of here, I don't think it was her call.

[ Yeah, that's an explanation that needs to happen. ]

She didn't leave you and Raven behind. [ He needs to reiterate that because it also means that he didn't leave them behind. ] It was like I was here one minute, and back on the ground the next. I didn't even remember being here; they must have done something to us both.

[ A beat. Wait— ] ... You didn't leave?

( that's comforting. sort of. as comforting a knowing you haven't been out and out abandoned, but knowing that your friend — friends — was dragged away by the same seemingly supernatural powers it was that brought you here in the first place can be.

and for what purpose?

clarke absently wonders if maybe they ought to renew the search for octavia, in case she was spit back just like bellamy. they hadn't looked in the basement, and —

leave? )

What? I've been here the whole time.

[ The exhale that follows sounds conflicted but relieved. That means she doesn't know what they do. It also means making the choice between hiding it from her, or inflicting that grief, guilt, and misery on her just so they (so he) can lose her all over again.

Bellamy scrubs a hand over his face, then answers quickly, ] I don't know how they're doing this. You, Raven, Octavia, we were all back there. I'm talking days. Then suddenly, I'm here again. I woke up in the boiler room.

Edited 2015-03-30 05:11 (UTC)

I — ( what?

back there, days, here again. boiler room? )

Well, where are you now?

( because she doesn't have shoes on but she's going to come for you. )

Screening room.

[ It was the best option for privacy amongst the panicked masses. Nobody seemed to want the additional white noise of the spinning film reel when their psyche was just shy of breaking already. ]

Coraline told me people have been seeing ghosts.

Yeah, there's —

( a lot, bellamy, a lot. maybe not as many as other people; maybe not as many as him. but finn's face still cuts her straight to the core, and the likes of wells and charlotte are salt in the wound. the ominously faceless, angry grounders are the vinegar poured over the top, and she hurts.

unseen, clarke bites her lip and starts over. )

I'm on my way.

I'll see you when you get here.

[ True to form, Bellamy hovers with muted worry just outside the screening room. The last time he saw her, she was walking away. Putting the responsibility for what they'd both done on herself and leaving Camp Jaha behind her for everyone's sake as much as her own. ]

( she doesn't sleep a lot. now that they're being fed and she's the energy to be awake and functioning, clarke's fallen right back into her rut of overthinking and over worrying. even if all her dreams don't feature finn collins, they've lost a lot of people and their time in the hotel hell — the vacation that none of them asked for — has done little to make her forget that.

so clarke sleeps. but not a lot, and seldom for very long. she wakes before the sun ("sun", lighter grey rain clouds) rises and tries not to stir too much to wake her bed partner. raven is still sprawled on her side of the bed and providing a very soft human heater, but clarke kept her tablet in reach. having somewhat appointed herself the resident hotel doctor, she likes to keep a pulse on the going on's within the establishment. on a very low volume she watches the first dream broadcast, and the subsequent confusion in the open conversations beneath it. then, almost in rapid succession, the second.

and the third.

then she reaches over to grasp raven's shoulder and squeezes. )

Hey. Hey, Raven, wake up. You need to see this.

[honestly, the only reason raven sleeps is familiarity. something she won't admit, not in a million years: she doubts she'd be able to sleep alone after weeks (months now?) of bunking with clarke. it's the warmth of another body in bed with her, and the steady familiarity of clarke's breathing when she falls asleep. it's twisted and stupid, undoubtedly, because this is the girl finn chose over her (some days, when raven's leg hurts like hell, she'd choose clarke over herself too; at least she's whole) and died -- or will die -- for.

but it's also true. clarke griffin is her sleeping pill.

it's not a restful sleep, but more the sleep of the exhausted; of the done for, physically and emotionally. she's out like a light, even after the sun rises.

and she protests to being stirred away, though for a moment she considers leaning into the touch. (how long since someone touched her not to heal, or comfort, but because?)]

What?

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(backdated to the event) voice.

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voice. -> action.

backdated to hypnos posts

mean girls ost plays