Bellamy didn't know if he was dead or not.

He was in that hazy state of in between. Memories surrounded him, and at first he couldn't tell what they were until he got closer.

They were all of Octavia.

The day their mom died...

"I just... can't believe she's really gone..." Octavia's voice echoed. The sound came chorusing in then, every memory of Octavia Blake he had trying to get his attention. It was loud- so loud, he heard her voice, her laugh, saw her smile.

Over and over and over again...

He couldn't do this, everywhere he backed into was just more of her, more of Octavia. She was everywhere and nowhere, she was here and she was gone.

A new voice rang out from among the others. "BELLAMY!" He heard Clarke scream. She was there, but she was so far away. He wanted to reach out, to tell her he was fine, but she was too far away...

And maybe he wasn't fine.

Maybe he'd never been fine.

He'd pretended, he'd had to pretend, that he was fine to believe it himself. And as his punishment, here he was, in the place where he'd buried all his memories of Octavia. Bellamy whimpered and slid to the floor, rocking himself back and forth.

He couldn't breathe, he was suffocating on air.

And then he was in the water, watching Octavia swim at the beach. Her head broke the surface and she took deep gulps of air. "Good," Bellamy told her. "Except remember to point your toes."

"Yeah, yeah. Showoff." Octavia told him before diving back under.

Bellamy jerked out of the memory straight into another one.

"Haha, you're sooooo funny," Octavia told him, plopping down onto the couch next to him. "Just turn on the effing T.V."

And another one.

"Pass it, damnit O! Not that way!"

"Listen, it's not my fault I'm bad at soccer since you won't train me properly."

"What do you think I'm doing literally right now???"

"Criticizing me." She told him with a wink.

And another.

And another.

And another.

There she was, teasing him, there she was, at school, and there she was, there she was, she was everywhere.

But that wasn't possible, she was gone.

As another memory splayed across his vision like a firework, Bellamy sank lower onto the wall. Watching her, watching her over and over, it was torture.

Maybe he'd accidentally gone to hell instead.

"My sister, my responsibility."

"Shut the fuck up. Stop saying that! I'm nobody's responsibility." Octavia snarled.

Bellamy turned to glare at her. "But you are, you're my responsibility."

"No I'm not!" She snapped.

The good times, and the bad. The thought triggered another onslaught of memories, mostly of the siblings screaming at each other.

But throughout it all, at least they'd each other. At least they'd been the Blake siblings, and at least when they argued one of them always apologized and things went back to normal.

She was his little sister.

And the day she was born, he'd sworn to protect her.

But he couldn't even keep that promise.

...

A ceiling. A white ceiling.

Slowly, as Bellamy became more and more aware of his surroundings, he heard the beep of the machines, the steady drip-drip-drip of an IV. Even though everything was sore, Bellamy turned his head to look to the side. "Oh, mister Blake!" Came a voice, and a doctor walked up to him, smiling.

"You're awake." The doctor said, checking something on a computer.

Bellamy couldn't bring himself to smile so he settled for a grimace. Another doctor came in, and they whispered together for a good minute before the other doctor left again. And the other came back with Clarke.

It was all very disorienting, he thought he was dead, and then to suddenly just wake...

Clarke saw him, their eyes met, and she burst out in tears. She rushed to his side, the doctors politely exiting the room to leave them alone. "Bell..." she whispered. "You're alive, oh my god, when Raven and I found you... we th- thought..." Clarke's voice broke, and leaned down to hug him.

"I tho- thought I'd n- never get to- to tell you that I love you t- too, so m- much Bell..."

Bellamy hugged her back, in a state of shock. Then everything settled over him like a cold blanket and he started crying too.

They held each other for a long while, alone in the bland Hospital, crying.

Because Bellamy had tried to kill himself, he'd tried to join his sister, and now they both knew that his wounds ran deeper than he let show.

...

After 2 days, Bellamy was restless. And after what the doctors had said, "You tried to kill yourself, you have to stay here for 2 weeks," he was really dreading his visit. A two physician hold, was what they called it, when 2 physicians agreed that he needed to stay in the Hospital a while longer. Even though technically they weren't supposed to see him, Clarke smuggled Murphy and Raven in for a quick visit as well.

His wrists were sore, and every time he glanced at them, he cringed. But they were healing, he was healing, and he was itching to jump out a window to escape by the time they let him out of his room.

His days in the Psychiatric ward blurred together, each day bringing a new horror, a new shame. For example, he had to take antidepressants, and they made him wear this thin Hospital robe that he hated with all of his heart.

But all that mattered was that after he had been there for 2 weeks, they let him out and he practically collapsed into Clarke's arms.

As they drove home, home at last, Clarke kept running a hand through his hair and telling him, over and over again, "It's okay, we're going home."

Home.