The weight of what he had done was barreling down. Bellamy breathed hard as he faced Jaha, the man he’d shot to be sent down with the only people that mattered to him. Octavia and you.

None of this made much sense, they weren’t supposed to be down from the Ark yet, he was supposed to still have time to run, and yet here he was begging for mercy, and being denied it because he didn’t deserve the peace of death— not after what he had done.

The sound around him was overwhelming. Murderer. A cluster of voices, each belonging to those who gave their lives to give the Ark more time, something they wouldn’t have had to do if Bellamy hadn’t destroyed the damn radio.

Bellamy struggled with himself, part of him knew it wasn’t real, the nuts that he— and the others— had eaten caused these intense hallucinations. The other part of him knew that even if it wasn’t real, it was coming, he deserved the pain.

Then, you came through the fog, and his breath caught as he peered up at you, his lips forming your name in a quiet whisper, he couldn’t tell if he was breaking out of it.

“You murdered my mother,” you spoke and Bellamy’s blood went cold, “she thought i was dead because of you, so she took her own life.”

And just like that, Bellamy was blinking hard, panting, his eyes focusing on you again, the way your face distorted, from the real you and his hallucination of you, he could see the concern on your face and he knew that it was really you now. You hadn’t really said those things, but Bellamy felt like you did, he believed that you blamed him, why wouldn’t you?