Okay, so as I previously answered here, there’s a fic like that that is already written so instead I wrote another depressed!Bellamy one in the after season 2 universe.
So TW for Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Anxiety, PTSD and Panick Attacks
Hope you still like it, nonnie!
It doesn’t happen right away-there’s a feeling of heaviness in his bones from the moment he leaves Mount Weather.
At first he thinks it’s just because it’s an eight hour long treck after not sleeping for over two days, half the delinquents are on stretchers which worries the hell out of him but he feels broken and like he suddenly has no strength and he has no explanation for it.
It only gets worse when Clarke leaves him by the gates, putting a burden that weights him to the ground and leaves him breathless.
After, he goes through Arkadia in a daze, like he’s not really there and when he ends up in a room that he doesn’t even know if it belongs to him or anyone he knows, he collapses on the floor and suddenly he can’t breathe.
He curls up on his own and thinks that he’s just in shock-that’s it, they commited genocide, Clarke left, his friends are hurt and he has to take care of them, keep going.
Yeah that was it.
He somehow makes it back on his feet, goes outside not realizing that evening settled and upon seeing one of the guards he asks them where the showers are.
When he takes off his clothes and cleans himself up it does absolutely nothing to take the feeling of his hands being stained with blood away.
He rubs them for fifteen minutes and by the end it feels like his skin is peeling.
There are scars and bruises on his back and ribs and he finds out that first night that when he drags his fingers over them, he enjoys the pain, welcomes it because it’s something tangible, something real, that he can actually feel.
He doesn’t sleep that night.
Or the next one.
Or the one after that.
He volunteers for a place in the guards, the hunting team and the construction group right away, deciding that if he fills his days with as much work as he can, he won’t have to constantly think about bodies piled up in his feet, little boys asking for their fathers or those blue eyes that left him alone.
And every evening he goes by medbay to check on the delinquents recovering from their injuries.
It hurts him to do it because though they are grateful he does see the trace of fear in their eyes-he did commit genocide after all, it was for them, but it was one of the most awful acts someone can do.
Maybe Clarke was right to leave, maybe…he thinks through his lonely anger that is a dull ache in his chest, maybe this is for the better.
He doesn’t wish for her to see this, he doesn’t want that pain on her too.
His sister can’t spare a look at him, though, it’s the worst with her.
She talks to him, asks him questions and greets him morning and night but her eyes never land on his.
She’s angry too, he knows she is, because he did do this for her again and in the end she never asked him to.
But he doesn’t say anything and he just takes it, though it hurts like nothing else that every night around the camp fire when he and the other delinquents are eating dinner, she can’t wait to be done with her bowl and jump on her feet, leaving him behind.
So he stops going there.
He doesn’t feel like eating anyway.
The kids start getting better in just a few weeks and he doesn’t need to go to medbay.
He still keeps an eye on them, though-he gives his extra ration to Harper who’s too weak and needs more food, throws a blanket over Jasper’s drunk figure and carries him inside the Ark every night after he spends hours looking for the place he passed out at and he asks Raven to work with Monty on wiring the expanding fence because he knows the kid needs to think about something other than blood too.
He walks through camp like a ghost though.
Barely talks to anyone, barely speaks when someone asks him something.
He just does things now, like a robot-wakes up, goes hunting then joins the construction site, then takes a guard shift, then to his room where he just lies and doesn’t sleep.
He can’t manage a full hour, it’s fifteen minutes there, twenty here, he wakes up all the time and tries over for a few hours before he gives up and gets to the bar where he takes a drink.
Then another and then a few more.
His feet are wobbly on his way back to his room but it does nothing to help him fall asleep.
He thinks they start to notice but they are too afraid to approach him-Monty casually asks him if he wants to join them for dinner and Harper brings by a sweater she dug out for him from a pile somewhere (probably Mount Weahter if he had to guess, which is why he doesn’t touch it) and Miller tries to start a conversation during their guard shift.
But he doesn’t say anything back, he waves them off, mumbles a short quiet I’m fine and when at night he wakes up screaming and has another attack that leaves him unable to breathe for more than fifteen minutes, he just takes it.
Because he thinks he deserves it.