One moment Clarke had been talking to the person next to her and the next she was in the water, despite attempts to pull her back onto the raft. Everything happened so quickly after that. She saw the shark a split second before it attacked, she heard the screams in the background and was vaguely aware of not being alone in the water, but Clarke’s mind was focused on survival, on trying to get away. There was no getting away, though. The only real mercy here was that the shark killed her quickly.
And then she woke up. The whiteness of the room, the disorientation she felt was almost reminiscent of waking up in Mount Weather, except that her clothes hadn’t been changed while she slept. She was in the same clothing she’d had on in the arena, but it was dry as a bone. She was dry as a bone and she felt fine. Alive. How was that even possible? Clarke didn’t really have the time to ponder that before she found herself in a more familiar space. She was greeted quickly by one of the doctors, who gave her a brief and really kind of confusing explanation of what had happened, at least as much as they could. They told her it had been the same for everyone else who’d been killed in the arena - they’d all just suddenly appeared in medical and they’d all reported waking up in a white room just like the one Clarke had been in moments before.
“Bellamy’s okay?” It was the first question she had upon hearing the news and the joy she felt at getting that confirmation was indescribable. It didn’t lessen the experience, exactly, but after thinking she’d lost him, the relief she felt was palpable.
She consented to the medical exam and to the brief visit with psych, but as soon as they let her go, she went to find him. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe what she’d just been told, but she needed to see him with her own eyes, to know that he really was all right.