Chapter Text
Clarke knew she should have expected Bellamy to follow her. Should have known that he would walk into that warehouse with her if it meant they would do it together. Should have known that he would give his life to protect her if it came down to it. She should have known all of that and, yet…
Clarke looked down at Bellamy’s sleeping form, his hand in hers. For a week, she was in a bed next to his, in a medically-induced coma like him. Then when she woke she wondered when he would wake up, and then she was allowed to get out of bed and touch him. She still wasn’t able to move fully, needing help to get from the bed to a chair, and even then she wasn’t able to sit for long.
Why did you have to come after me?
It was a thought that plagued her mind constantly, Ever since she opened her eyes, and before when the world went black. Apparently she lost more blood than Bellamy, but his injury was more concerning even though she nearly died when they tried to get the bullet out. But Bellamy was kept asleep since Octavia argued that if he was allowed to be awake he would do whatever he could to get out of bed.
A tear rolled down Clarke’s cheek and she wiped it away, just in time for the door to the room to open. When she turned, Kane stood in the entrance, his hands clasped behind him and his graying hair neatly combed. He looked at her, then towards Bellamy in the bed. There hadn’t been a change from the day before.
The older man walked out and shut the door softly behind him.
Clarke looked toward Octavia and where the other girl was sleeping on the couch she had pushed to the edge of Bellamy’s bed, ignoring the fact that some people needed to get around Bellamy’s bed to check on him. Her hand was wrapped around Bellamy’s other hand.
When Clarke first woke, she expected Octavia to hate her, but she didn’t. She hugged Clarke and told her that she was happy they were both okay, even though her brother wasn’t awake. And then they cried.
She looked back at Bellamy, still holding his hand and hoping he would wake up soon.
~
It was another two days before Bellamy’s blood pressure began to drop and the doctors decided that they needed to take him off the medicine that was keeping him asleep, and despite protests from Clarke and Octavia—and everyone else—only Octavia was able to go into the room to see him. The doctors were worried that Bellamy would try to talk too much if more people went in, and “he needs rest,” they would say.
So, Clarke slept in the hall. They all did.
Clarke wasn’t expecting to wake up to Octavia nudging her awake in the middle of the night a few days later, and the other girl told her to go see Bellamy. “He’s asking for you,” she whispered.
Clarke didn’t hesitate as she got up and walked towards the door, but she wavered before she opened it. The room was illuminated by the light above the bed, casting a warm yellow glow on Bellamy’s face. His eyes were closed and if it wasn’t for the thick white bandage on his neck Clarke would have thought he looked relaxed. But the bandage pressed against his jaw, making his face look distorted.
A lump formed in her throat as she walked towards him, and just before she could reach out and touch his hand, he opened his eyes. He looked tired.
“Hey,” she whispered, her eyes watering as she looked down at him.
“Hey,” he rasped.
Clarke sniffled as she moved closer to the bed, and his hand moved beside him, so Clarke reached out and wrapped his hand up in hers. She wiped at the tears that were falling, but it was no use.
“I’m sorry, Bellamy,” she said through her tears. “I’m so sorry.”
Bellamy licked at his lips and Clarke could see how much trouble he was having talking. It made her heart break even more. “Clarke—”
“Do you want some water?” She asked, and Bellamy looked at her for a moment before he nodded his head almost imperceptibly.
Clarke turned and picked up the pitcher of water and grabbed an empty cup, her hands shaking, and then she opened a straw and placed it at Bellamy’s lips. He looked at her when he was done and then she placed it back on the table and looked at him. She wanted to busy herself. Wanted to do anything that would keep her from looking at him and keep the pain away. But she knew she couldn’t.
“Clarke,” he said again, and he reached his hand out for hers, “are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” She asked, her eyebrows arching. “You’re the one laying in bed with your neck cut and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” Her voice came out harder than she expected, and with how Bellamy’s eyebrows knitted together, it only made her feel worse.
“Octavia said you were shot,” Bellamy said softly. “I didn’t—”
“You’ve been in a medically-induced coma for over a week, Bellamy, me being shot should be the last thing on your mind,” Clarke snapped, and she watched as Bellamy’s confusion turned to irritation.
“Well it’s not.” He glared at her. “What’s wrong— ”
“I nearly got you killed!” Clarke’s voice carried in the small room and she clasped her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying. “I almost got you killed , Bellamy, I don’t deserve you being worried about me,” she whispered, her tears rolling down her cheeks and dropping down.
Bellamy’s eyebrows knit together, and Clarke tried taking a deep breath. “When Roan and I talked, he told me that his mom changed the plans. The drop would be earlier and she would wait for someone to show up.” Clarke sniffled, looking down at the scratchy white hospital blanket. “She wouldn’t let them go if she caught them, so Roan and I knew that he would have to get her to let him kill me. It was a gamble, but—”
“You knew?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke nodded her head. “Who else?”
“Nobody except me and Roan,” Clarke mumbled.
Bellamy sunk into the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s why there wasn’t anyone around.”
“Bellamy—”
“You knew, and you walked in anyway.” He looked at her. “ Why would you do that, Clarke?”
“I thought I could save you—all of you.” Clarke sniffled, more tears running down her cheeks. “But you almost died anyway, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself because of a decision I made, Clarke. I knew if I walked in I wouldn’t come out.”
“Then why—”
“Because we’re a team and I said we would do this together. ” He shook his head. “But you went behind my back.”
“Bellamy—”
“This shit can work both ways, Clarke.” Bellamy looked at her again, his eyes hard, and every bit of fight went out of her.
Her shoulders dropped and she wrapped her arms around herself, and forced herself to look at him. She knew he was right. They both fell into a tense silence and Bellamy’s eyes closed, but before she could wonder if she should leave, he spoke.
“We have to work on talking to each other,” he sighed.
“Well, the mission is over. You won’t have to talk to me ever again,” she mumbled, her heart clenching at the words, and Bellamy opened his eyes, looking at her.
“Is that what you want?”
Her heart flipped. “No.”
Bellamy looked at her for another beat then nodded his head, closing his eyes again. “Me, either.”
Clarke reached out and took his hand in hers again, then sat down in the chair beside the bed. And that night, she promised not to keep anything from him ever again.
~
Nia Azgeda and her accomplices were taken into police custody the day Bellamy was allowed to get out of bed. Roan hadn’t killed her that night, but no one could seem to find him when they brought his mother in.
He sent Clarke a message one day when she was leaving the hospital, someone walked by and slipped it into her pocket. She didn’t realize it until she got home.
Laying low and trying to mend some bridges I may have started to burn. Take care, babe, and sorry I couldn’t break up with you properly. Tell my birdie I’ll be home soon
x
Clarke had shown Raven the note, and then the other girl had spent the next three days grumbling under her breath at every possible moment.
Bellamy was released from the hospital another week after first waking up. Clarke wanted to have him stay with her, but she and the others were already in the process of moving out of their apartment and they all decided it would have been better for Bellamy to be at his house. Though that didn’t stop Clarke from texting him, even if she wished she could see him in person. Kane and Indra believed it was best if the two groups were separated for a while, until things calmed down.
Clarke and others stayed with Kane for a couple of months while they figured things out. Then they were all given more money than they ever thought they would make. Indra did the same for her people.
It was over. Everything that they did, everyone that they killed, was given back to them in the form of a bunch of zeroes. How they processed and coped with everything they did was up to them.
Clarke waited for Bellamy outside a coffee shop one day, having been told by Octavia where he would be, and her heart leaped into her throat the moment he saw her. He found her instantly, and the coffee was all but forgotten when she wrapped him up in a hug, burying her face in his neck as one of his hands tangled in her hair.
Three months apart was enough time.
~
Bellamy stretches as he yawns, feeling his bones popping before he rolls out of bed. He blindly searches for a pair of sweatpants to pull on and then he walks out of the bedroom and down the hall, stopping at the door that’s cracked open with a soft yellow light coming from it. He opens it, satisfied with the fact that it doesn’t squeaks anymore after he messed around with it, and he leans against the door jam.
He smiles a little, watching as Clarke rocks back and forth in the rocking chair while she feeds August. She looks up at him, a tired smile on her face right before she yawns. Bellamy walks towards her and she tilts her head up expectantly, and Bellamy gives her a kiss.
“Good morning,” she whispers.
“Good morning, love.” Bellamy kisses the top of her head. “You didn’t wake me.”
“That was the point,” she says with a smirk, and Bellamy shakes his head as he looks down at their son. “You were up so late last night.”
“You’re up late every night,” he points out, and she yawns.
“We’re both up late.”
Her blonde hair barely grazes the tops of her shoulders as she shakes her head a little, and August’s blue eyes are wide as he looks up at the two of them. He reaches up and presses a hand against Clarke’s breast, and she laughs.
“Greedy.”
“He’s smart,” Bellamy teases, and he’s rewarded with an eye roll from his wife. He grins as he leans down and kisses her again, then runs his thumb over August’s leg. “I’ll make breakfast.”
“With French toast?” Clarke asks, her eyes wide, and Bellamy’s heart flips.
“With French toast,” he confirms, then he gives her one more kiss before making his way towards the kitchen.
He’s nearly done cooking when Clarke walks silently into the room and wraps her arms around his waist, and Bellamy hums as she buries her face into his back. Then she’s there, asking for a kiss, and Bellamy is reminded of just how happy he is.
“Remember, tonight’s dinner,” Clarke says as she grabs the orange juice out of the fridge. “No talking after-hours.”
“I know, I know,” Bellamy says, placing the plate of eggs he just cooked on the kitchen counter. “Do you need me to pick anything up?”
“Mmm…” Clarke pops a piece of bacon into her mouth, “just you,” she says, smiling.
“I think I can do that.” Bellamy kisses her temple, then he sits down beside her and they dig into their breakfast.
Afterwards, Bellamy takes a quick shower and gets dressed for the day. He wears suit pants and a button-up shirt, though he hardly ever wears a jacket, and he looks at himself in the mirror as he buttons his shirt. All the way to the top until it covers the scar that runs from one side of his neck to the other, then he puts on a tie and grabs his bag. He kisses his wife and son bye, and walks out the door, getting in his car and making his way towards his first class of the day on the university campus.
~
Clarke gets August dressed before she gets herself dressed, then she carries her son out to the car to head to the grocery store. She smiles at the people who coo over her son, tensing whenever they reach out to touch him before politely telling them that she would prefer it if they didn’t. She keeps her smile as the people look like they want to argue with her about it before they excuse themselves, and Clarke lets the tension leave her shoulders. Her hands flex on the buggy and she has to consciously unclench her jaw as she turns down the bread aisle.
It’s another day, reminding herself that every loud sound she hears isn’t someone trying to attack her. Reminding herself that her husband is at work and the baby in front of her is theirs and they have a life and what she did when she was younger isn’t who she is anymore. She knows she shouldn’t still feel this way, not after how long it’s been, but some days…
It’s when she's looking at something in the frozen vegetable aisle that someone comes up beside her, and while she doesn’t pay them much attention at first, she tenses when they get closer. “Still skittish, Griffin?”
Clarke gasps as she turns to look at the man beside her. Roan Azgeda stands beside her, his dark hair pulled back into a bun with his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. There are matching scars that run from his forehead to his cheekbones on both sides of his face, a remnant of a trip gone wrong nearly five years ago.
“Only when large oafs decide to sneak up on me even though they know I hate it,” she says, the corners of her mouth turning up, and August gurgles in the buggy beside her. “Yes, he is a big oaf, isn’t he?” Clarke coos.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t make his birthday,” he says, and Clarke looks at him.
“That car you sent more than made up for it,” she says as she opens one of the doors to the freezer and grabs a bag of mixed vegetables. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
Roan smiles. “Why do you think I decided to step foot inside of a grocery store? I’m here to help you shop.”
~
That night, everyone gathers around the dining table with the food steaming and drinks all around, and Clarke takes a moment to look at everyone. Harper and Monty with their son Jordan, only a few months younger than August; Octavia and Lincoln with Octavia bouncing August on her knee; Jasper with his arm around Maya’s waist; Murphy with Emori; Miller with Jackson; Raven with Roan in the corner, talking to Bellamy…
She takes a sip of her drink, her heart both filled and hurting. Bellamy crowds everyone around the table, getting them all into their seats, and he takes a seat beside her. Clarke reaches for his hand under the table, squeezing it softly before August starts crying for his parents. Clarke smiles as she takes him, everyone falling into easy conversation with each other.
There’s an empty chair at the end of the table—one that’s been empty for years now—and Clarke reaches up and runs her hand over the necklace under her shirt. But, the ache doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. She thinks about when she was sixteen, learning the truth about her father’s death and what she and her best friend did. How they both found some of the best people they’ve ever met and then found even more people to add to their family. How now, at twenty-eight, she couldn’t imagine her life being anything other than what it is now.
She has a loving husband, a son, and friends she would lay her life down for. But, she doesn’t have to. Not anymore.
Clarke stands, her glass of wine in her hand, and the conversation around the table dies down as they all look at her. “So, here we all are,” she says, looking around the table. “I know we all wish he was here with us but, like I say every year, Wells would have wanted nothing more than all of us to enjoy our time together.” Clarke smiles a little, looking down at her husband. “And I’d like to think I know what he would say, now…” Bellamy winks at her, and Clarke looks up at everyone else, “that I’m pregnant.”
There’s a round of gasps and squeaks and then she’s being crushed by Octavia who was sitting beside her. “And, we’ve decided,” Bellamy says, readjusting August on his lap, “that, whether it's a boy or girl, their name will be Wells.”
“Apparently it’s more common for it to be a girl’s name,” Clarke says with a smile, and a few of their friends laugh.
There’s another wave of congratulations and when they all settle down, there’s another round of drinks poured and Bellamy wraps his arm around Clarke’s shoulders, still holding their son in his lap. I wish you could see all of us, she thinks. You would have loved where we ended up . It wasn’t fair, losing Wells when all he ever wanted for everyone was to have a normal life and he wasn’t even able to see his nephew. They had gotten out, and all it took was for him to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bellamy reaches up and wraps Clarke’s hand up in his and she smiles at him. It feels wrong, being here with everyone when she always thought she didn’t deserve it, but here she is. Here they are. I really miss you, Wells .
Tears form in Clarke’s eyes but she blinks them away, focusing on how happy everyone is around her. Once upon a time, she was a girl who was given an opportunity to get revenge for the people who killed her father, and then she was just a girl who was given a chance to restart life. Over the years, she and Bellamy have talked, as has everyone else, and even though Clarke doesn’t know if she’ll ever fully deserve this—her life—she tries to do the best she can with what she was given.
She takes August and cradles him to her chest as Bellamy fixes them both a plate, and then she readjusts her son so she can eat. Once upon a time, she dreamed of being a doctor like her mother and living the life her parents always wished for her, but now she wouldn’t trade what she has for anything in the world. She has people that she’s gone to Hell and back for, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
She has a family, even though they may not be blood, and that’s all that matters. All that she, and they, ever wanted.