week two, thursday afternoon
[Bellamy practically tears his way down to the beach from the oasis, heart in his throat. He's forcing himself to cling to the fact that it's too early for this, that Haru's body didn't disappear, that it doesn't make sense for this to be so different, but that doesn't wipe the image of Raven, throat slit, red bleeding into the rocks, out of his head.
It doesn't matter. He hasn't been this blind with panic since Roan took Clarke, since Octavia was locked out of the bunker. He's almost dizzy with it.]
Raven!
It doesn't matter. He hasn't been this blind with panic since Roan took Clarke, since Octavia was locked out of the bunker. He's almost dizzy with it.]
Raven!

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Yes.
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Who is it?
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[She doesn't look happy about it, either. When she burned Grounders alive and helped an army get into Mt. Weather, it was because they were trying to kill her or her friends. This is different to her. It brings a kind of regret along with it.]
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Automatically, he reaches for her again, settling both hands onto her shoulders.]
Raven, look at me. We'll figure it out.
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...I know.
[They always have, and they'll do it again. She'll do everything she can to make sure this sacrifice is the last one.]
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We pick a place and a time frame, and what we were doing.
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It shouldn't be long.
[That's what she hopes for, at least.]
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What did you decide at the meeting? Are you pinning it on anyone?
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We didn't plan to frame anyone. They said they'd give me a knife, a can of gasoline and a book of matches.
[Yikes.]
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No one's going to find out.
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I'll be careful, in case they do a strip search again.
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This isn't your fault, Raven.
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[Something cold and resolute settles over her expression, the kind of determination he might used to.
She's going to find a way to rid the world of the both of them.]