The Meme || Accepting

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.”

If Bryan thought this funeral was hard on him, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it was on Bellamy. Octavia had been his little sister, after all, bound by blood and closer than anyone; Bellamy had practically raised Octavia, and the two had always been together. Yes, she’d been one of Bryan’s best friends in the entire world, and someone who he’d always counted on being at his side, but that couldn’t compare to the big brother and little sister bond that Bellamy and Octavia had. Nothing could be harder than losing a sibling, though Bryan wouldn’t know about that.

Guilt flooded him though, at Bellamy’s words, and he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head to look at the older boy. He knew that Bellamy would have the same expression that he’d had on his face for the past few days, since he’d been notified of Octavia’s death; grief stricken and haunted, sunken eyes and tear streaked cheeks, hands shaking and shoulders hunched like he was trying to curl into himself, but also force himself to stand up straight and greet the multitudes of people that were going to be there soon, probably arriving at any minute.

“I know,” Bryan’s voice was faint, barely there. He knew Bellamy wasn’t expecting an answer, he’d just been talking out loud, as he’d been doing the past few days. Absently, off-handed, as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, talking just because the words felt like they needed to be said, not replied to. That was Bellamy’s way of coping, it seemed, where as Bryan had the exact opposite response. Quiet, faint, responding only when he had to, or when someone needed him to; Bryan didn’t want to speak anyway, but he felt like Bellamy at least needed him to acknowledge that he’d heard him.

There were footsteps, and Bryan bit his lip sharply. He’d arrived early to the funeral home to be at Bellamy’s side, and now everyone else was arriving. He could hear Clarke’s voice, and knew she’d be at Bellamy’s side quickly. Nate was with her, and he was sure that was Raven’s voice too. He took a deep, shaky breath, knowing that they’d have to get up and greet them. They needed to be there for Bellamy, and be there to celebrate Octavia’s life and mourn her death. Even if they’d never get to see her again, even if pictures were all they had now, and even if everyone was treading lightly around them.

Bryan felt a hand on his shoulder, faintly patting it in a gesture of saying he’d be back, Bellamy was getting up and going towards the door. Bryan chanced a glance up at the older boy then, and once more felt guilt flow through him. Bellamy had always seemed like he had heavy weights on his shoulders, but now they looked like he had the universe weighing him down. Octavia had been the world to him, and Bryan knew that it was going to be hard for him to go on. He had Clarke by his side though, and all of his friends, and Bryan was sure that he’d always be there for the older man, as long as he would let him be.

Slowly, he moved the brakes on his wheelchair to unlock and began slowly turning his chair. He could see the closed casket out of the corner of his eyes, and his hands faltered, causing him to bite his lip hard as his fingers got snagged in the left wheel, still not used to managing it yet. He’d have to though; he’d never be out of the wheelchair again. Maybe it was what he deserved. Maybe he needed to be stuck in the wheelchair for the rest of his life, for failing to protect his best friend from what had happened, and being the one to survive when she hadn’t.

The crash hadn’t been his fault. It was what people kept telling him, but Bryan couldn’t help but feel like somehow it was. He hadn’t been drinking, but Octavia had. He’d taken her keys, gotten into the car and gotten her into the passenger seat. They’d been talking as they drove to Bryan’s place for the night, Bryan saying that once she sobered up in the morning she could go home. But he was the designated driver and completely sober, so he was driving and they were going to go to his place to sleep. He’d promised her a huge cooked breakfast in the morning.

The other driver had been drinking. Some older man, who’d gotten into a fight at a bar, drunk and angry, driving like no one else in the world mattered but himself. He’d gone left of center and Bryan? Bryan hadn’t had time to react, hadn’t had time to get them out of the way, hadn’t had time to stop it. It had happened so fast, that everything was a blur to him. One minute he’d been laughing at Octavia singing along to the radio, the next he’d been waking up in a hospital room with the doctors telling him that he’d never walk again, and that Octavia was dead.

Bellamy had come to see him; after all, Bryan had been the last person to see Octavia alive. Bryan had cried; bawled even. Octavia had been his best friend and he’d been the one driving. The guilt he was piling on his own shoulders had been immense, although Bellamy had told him as well that it wasn’t his fault. According to the police reports about the accident, no one would have been able to do anything. Bryan was beyond lucky that he had survived, they hadn’t thought that he would either. Lucky? Bryan wasn’t so sure he’d say that, not when his best friend had died. But he’d kept Octavia from driving. He’d kept her from being the one to crash, the one to drive drunk and maybe be at fault. He’d been trying to take care of her, and keep her safe, and had taken her keys from her. That had meant a lot, hadn’t it?

“Bry?”

It was Nate’s voice, and he jumped a little, looking up and over at the other man as he spoke. Nathan was standing a few feet away, still near where Clarke and Raven were both tightly hugging Bellamy, who looked almost like he was going to start crying again. Murphy, Fox, and others were starting to enter the doorway as well, making their way towards Bellamy to hug him, tell him they were there for him. None of that could bring Octavia back though, and almost like the man could sense what he was thinking, Bellamy looked over at Bryan as well, that sad, broken look on his face, before he turned back to the girls again.

“I’ve got it,” Bryan’s voice was faint again, hands moving to once again try and move the wheels of the chair so that he could head towards the larger area where everyone would gather. He didn’t deserve the help, he thought, he didn’t deserve Nate’s help, he was going to have to do this alone. He didn’t deserve…

“Bryan.”

Bellamy’s tone was so firm, that it nearly startled Bryan and he’d stopped to look up at the older boy. The look in Bellamy’s eyes told him all that he needed to know; ‘Let him help you,’ it said, ‘don’t be stubborn. It wasn’t your fault.’. Bryan ducked his head, but nodded and gave in. Anything for Bellamy, anything after what had happened, what they’d gone through. He wanted nothing more than to somehow make things easier for Bellamy, or help him in any way that he could. He owed him that. Listening would somehow get them through this day.

Bellamy wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Octavia, and neither was Bryan. But now, they had no choice.