Chapter 43
I don't even remember the walk back to camp. I don't remember anything in between Finn's leaving and the awful wait inside our gates. I don't remember who I talked to or what I said or how the hell I'd even gotten there. It's in the middle of the damn night, and I never realized the time passing by, I can't remember the sun coming down.
I remember dad telling me I'm in shock, that I need to take it easy. He tried to stop me from watching everything, like that was an option. I remember I told him something in what was supposed to be anger, at the fact that he already believed that Finn was gone, that it's over. It can't be over.
This isn't real either - the wait. It hardly seems real. Everything seems a haze, a bad dream - the sight of the Grounders preparing for the execution, the sounds of them and the people around me, the glimmering of the fires, Raven's hysteria and Bellamy's stoic demeanor, my hands and the ground below me, everything. None of this is real. I feel feather-light, like I could float away with the wind, or faint any moment given. I need to hold onto something, but if I do it will mean admittance, and I'm not ready to admit Finn is gone.
We'd sent Clarke off to try and negotiate something for one last time, Raven slipping her a knife so Clarke could kill the heda if necessary, but even I knew in that moment of shock that Clarke wouldn't be that stupid, no matter what Raven said. Killing the heda would mean Clarke's own life, and the lives of all of us back at camp, and Finn still wouldn't be saved. But she took it anyway, slipping it under her sleeve. I think she just didn't want to go against Raven's desperation. Clarke was logic embodied, she would do this her way or she wouldn't do this at all. All of our hopes are on her and her knack for diplomacy. It's now or never.
And so we wait and watch, as it was all we can do. One moment I am watching Clarke talk to Lexa, the next moment they're bringing Finn out, tying him to the wooden post, and I regain all my senses like thunder hits me. Suddenly, everything is real, and I'm feeling everything - the fear, the pain, the sickness in my stomach. It's too much all at once, and with every long moment that passes it's becoming more unbearable. Clarke couldn't have talked to Lexa for longer than a few minutes, but every minute stretches for an age, torturing us. There is nothing in my mind but two words: ''Please, Clarke.''
Please, Clarke. Please, Clarke. Please, Clarke. Please, Clarke. Please, Clarke.
Please, God.
And then the conversation is over, and Clarke is walking toward the wooden post, toward Finn, and my entire body screams, half of my mind chanting that this is it - she did it, Lexa is merciful, Lexa is letting Finn go, Clarke is gonna cut him free. Half of my mind is chanting it, but the other half knows damn well this is false hope, even though I don't want to listen to it. Not in this moment.
''What is she doing?'' I hear Raven ask. Bellamy stands in between us as we watch, and I don't know if it's because he thought one of us is going to lash out on the other or something. I can't think at all. All I can do is watch and try to breathe.
Clarke and Finn look like they're kissing. Why are they kissing?!
''No,'' I hear myself say, but it's too quiet and my voice sounds too foreign.
She isn't cutting him free. She wasn't going to do it at all and yet some foolish voice inside of me still hopes things will change like by a magic trick. But they are hugging now. I know this for what it is - I know this is them saying their goodbyes. And yet I still can't admit it, I still hold on to something, still try to breathe.
And when Clarke pulls back from the hug, Finn's head hangs low. It isn't sinking in even when I see blood all over his body, not even when I see the knife glimmer in Clarke's hand. It only sinks in when Raven cries out like a banshee, it only becomes real when she collapses and Bellamy has to hold her, to keep her together.
Finn is dead.
Tears drip down my face by themselves, but I'm not exactly crying, I am too stunned for that. This is some sort of weird physical reaction, because I am struggling to breathe, as slowly and deep as I inhale, and my teeth feel numb and my fingertips tingly and my legs too weak to stand.
Finn is dead.
Every single small memory I have with Finn seems to come back to mind in one small split of a moment. It isn't even anything worth remembering the way you'd expect it to - it's just the smallest bits and pieces of every-day bullshit you don't even think about twice. I remember that random day we talked about food and the way I couldn't tell apart by taste the different types of meat at all and the way he laughed at the ridiculousness of it, like it was the weirdest thing in the world. I remember one of the many times he threw me his jacket when I needed to make a quick short run outside, and that time I pulled down his beanie over his eyes and he pretended to slam into a tree to make Clarke chuckle. I remember every time I was harsh to him, even though he never took it to heart. I remember that time he took over Miller's shift even though he wasn't a gunner and detested the sight of a weapon, but he took the gun anyway just because he knew Nathan would drop dead if he didn't catch any sleep soon.
And then I'm crying. Really crying.
Someone's hand slips in mine, and our fingers interlace. I turn my head left to see who it is, through blurry vision. John Murphy looks back, tears in his eyes but none leaving the lids, the creases between his eyebrows the only thing ruining the complete composure of his face. I squeeze his hand tighter, his own doing the same. And when the next bout of violent sobbing ensues, his hand leaves mine and his arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me in, and I let him.
I cling to him like it's the only safe place in the universe. I feel little again, small and frightened and lost and I just want to go home and his arms are the only home I have left. His shirt crumpled in my fists and my tears soaking his neck and shoulder, he holds me as my body shakes, he hums something familiar to try and calm me. And I let him, because I need him.
*
They've taken Finn's body down, but I can't go see him again. Raven ran off immediately, but there is no way in hell I could see him again, I don't think I'll be able to take it. In the mean time, at some point, Murphy's taken me to my dad instead, and dad has sat me down in front of a tent where he let me cry more, holding me himself. And I cry into a different shoulder, but it's the same face I see smiling behind my closed eye-lids. He's dead. He's gone and he isn't coming back and it's awful but it's done and I need to accept it. Gone gone gone, Finn has died just as he's killed. But all I see is a smiling face.
I don't know how much time exactly I've given myself to weep and be weak - maybe an hour - but when I decide it's enough and I need to pull myself together, Raven is still out there. Abby and Kane joined Clarke to talk about the truce and Mount Weather plans, without any time to grieve, and if this is happening, I need to have it together.
''This can take place without you,'' dad insists, his hand lingering around my wrist.
I swallow one last time to put myself back together, pulling myself away. ''I need to be present, at all times. We owe him that.''
He wears a worried frown on his face, but he kisses my forehead nevertheless and follows me back toward the gate. I need to find Bellamy.
*
I almost break down again when Bellamy kisses me and hugs me, but I resist, hold myself together.
''Clarke did what she had to,'' he says, his face still in my hair.
''I know,'' I nod, sniffling, ''I know.''
We stay like that a while, just holding each other and breathing. Until I remember:
''Where's Raven?''
''She lashed out on Clarke, took off. They're taking Finn's body to Tondc, to be burned there-''
''What?'' I pull back, ''When?''
''We're leaving any moment now.''
''I'm coming too!''
''Maybe you should stay back,'' he says softly, hand on my cheek, ''Rest, until we see this thing through.''
''Bell, I have to be there,'' I say, trying not to let my voice shake, ''He was my friend, I should be there.''
He only frowns and gives a small nod, before pulling me back into him.
*
''Dad, I have to,'' I say, gearing up, ''If you wanna come with, you can. But I think you're most helpful around here. Weren't you and Wick working on something?''
''Natasha, listen to me,'' he suddenly grabs my arm, and I have to turn around and face him, ''First you were in shock, bordering on catatonic. Then you saw your friend die and had a breakdown. You haven't eaten or slept properly in a while now, and you haven't given yourself any time to process any of the trauma. You need to rest, and you need to grieve.''
''I can't rest!'' I cry out, tears welling up again, ''And I am grieving! And if they're going to burn Finn's body, I need to be there! He was my friend, and I failed to protect him, so the least I can do is be there for his God damn funeral!''
''This isn't your fault,'' dad says, more softly now, placing a gentle hand on my cheek, ''And you know that it isn't. There was nothing you could have done differently, no way in which you could have changed things.''
''Well, at least I'll get to go and say goodbye.''
''He's already gone,'' he shakes his head, ''You can't say goodbye in Tondc any more than you can say goodbye here in this tent.''
''I need to do something.''
''Sleep, for a start. Eat. Help me and Wick with the radios until our friends come back with Raven. Train. Prepare for what's coming. You won't be sitting still,'' he says, ''But you'll be useless to your friends in the state that you are now.''
He's right, but that's not the only reason I decide to stay. Another one is that in that moment it hits me and I realize I'm being selfish - my father has a daughter who is not okay by a long shot and he can't do absolutely anything about it with his hands tied. And I never thought about him at all or what he's going through just watching me like this. Or how to make it easier for him.
The final, most powerful reason is simple enough - I don't want to face it. In all truth, I don't want to watch Finn's body burn, or travel two days just to be among people who were going to make him die in unthinkable agony. I just can't face it yet. I would, I will, but not yet.
Now I have to tell Bellamy I'm not going and to keep an eye out on Raven because I hardly want to face her myself and to make sure they stay sharp because this alliance could break as easily as water flows and I could take anything except Finn dying for nothing.
That night as I lie in bed, something opens inside of me, some door that's kept everything safely locked out and at bay for so long. The door opens, and everything comes pouring back inside, and I cry one last time for everything I've lost, for everyone who died, for my old self with no blood on her hands, for Finn, but most of all - for mom.