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Clarke paced in front of the hired help board at the local grocery store, staring at a certain contact. She knew that she wasn’t going to be able to put up all the outdoor decorations on her own, but she didn't want to call him. She sighed heavily as she reached up, snagging the number from the board and stuffing it into her pocket, before pushing the cart to her car. She placed all the groceries in her trunk and slid into the driver's seat. Before losing her nerve, she pulled out the number and dialed quickly, listening as it rang.
“Blake’s Helping Hands” A gruff voice answered.
“That’s the dumbest name ever.”
“Princess,” The same gruff voice responds. “What could possibly be troubling her highness?”
“Name calling, really?” Clarke snapped. “What are we, twelve?”
“You started it,” Bellamy laughed.
“Ugh,” Clarke groaned, her thumb hovering over the end button. “I never should’ve called.”
“Wait, seriously, Griffin,” Bellamy called through the phone. “What did you need?”
Clarke sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. She shook her head slightly knowing he couldn’t see her. She could already feel herself starting to regret making the call.
“I need help with the holiday.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“The lights, Bellamy,” Clarke deadpanned. “I need help with the lights outside my house.”
“Perfect,” Bellamy said with a hint of a smile in his voice. “When did you want me to stop over?”
“Are you free on Friday?”
“Will do,” Bellamy agreed. “You still over on Little Street?”
“Yeah, Bell, I haven’t moved since…”
“See you, Friday.”
Clarke didn’t even get to finish her response before he cut her off and the line went dead. She shook her head, holding back the tears stinging her eyes. She knew this was a bad idea but he was the only one advertising help. Clarke tossed her phone on the front seat and started the car. She pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home.
Clarke set the last box of lights down on the porch and checked her watch. They hadn’t agreed on a time for him to come over to help with the lights, however, she knew it was going to be dark soon and that you couldn’t put them up in the dark. Clarke turned at the sound of a vehicle pulling into the driveway. She took a deep breath as she recognized the old beat up Chevy.
At least he didn’t stand her up, she thought as she went to meet him.
“Took you long enough,” Clarke stated as he got out of his truck. “Thought you weren’t gonna show.”
“Yeah, yeah, Princess,” Bellamy nodded. “I just got busy.”
“Do you need a ladder?”
“Do you want them on the roof?”
“I’ll get it from the shed.” Clarke muttered. “Ass.”
“I heard that, Princess.”
Clarke rolled her eyes as she made her way over to the shed, pulling on the door to open it and peering inside for the ladder. She spotted the ladder sitting on some hooks and made her way over to it. Clarke pushed onto the tips of her toes reaching for it, but her fingers just grazed the bottom of the ladder. She rocked back onto her heels and felt a warm solid form against her back.
“I’ve got it, Clarke,” Bellamy whispered, as he pulled the ladder down. “You never could reach it.”
“Thanks.” Clarke blurted, moving away from his closeness. “I’ll get out of your way.”
Clarke quickly turned on her heel, heading back towards the house, ignoring the fierce blush that was spreading on her cheeks. She could feel goosebumps dancing across her skin and rubbed her hands up and down her arms to rid herself of them. She made it into the kitchen and listened as he worked outside. A while later, Clarke checked the clock on the stove and realized it had been an hour. She made a quick pot of coffee and made two cups. Clarke went to push the door open but felt it catch on something. She used her hip to knock it until the door gave way and she stumbled over the threshold. Clarke froze as she heard the scream followed by the crashing of the ladder.
“Bellamy!” Clarke cried, as she realized what happened. “Oh god, please be okay.”
Clarke dropped both coffees as she rushed over to the heap laying in the snow. She fell down to her knees, wondering how badly he was injured. She ran through the basics of a first aid class she took years ago and tentatively reached out to check for his pulse—jumping when he groaned.
“Bell, are you okay?”
“Fuck,” Bellamy moaned rolling onto his back. “I don’t...”
“Do I call 911 or just take you to the hospital?”
“Hospital…”
Clarke noticed her hands were shaking as she helped him to his feet. She cringed with every sharp intake of breath and grunt from him. She felt the guilt starting to settle in the pit of her stomach as she heaved him towards her car—knowing she’d never get him into his truck. She barely got him onto his feet. Clarke was thankful he hadn’t damaged his leg or she would’ve had to call 911. She settled him into the passenger seat before rounding the front to the driver's seat. She quickly started the car and headed to the hospital.
Bellamy nodded as the doctor explained his list of injuries. He had a few broken ribs, a broken wrist, and some bruises along the side of his body. He sighed knowing this could’ve gone a lot worse than it did. Bellamy could hear her pacing in the hallway and was dreading the ride back to the house. He knew she felt guilty but he never should’ve had the ladder in front of the door. He would have to talk to her about it on the way back and remind her that it wasn’t her fault.
“You’ll need to rest, Bellamy,” Jackson finished. “Do you live with someone?”
“No,” Bellamy responded. “I live alone.”
“Is there anyone you could stay with?”
“Again, no,” Bellamy answered with a shake of his head. “I’m not going to impose on anyone.”
“You’ll have to wrap your ribs daily,” Jackson explained. “You can’t do that on your own.”
“I told you, I live alone…”
“You can stay with me.”
Bellamy tensed instantly regretting the motion as his ribs ached in his chest. He turned his head towards the doorway and the girl standing in the center. He started to rebuke her statement when the PA smiled in her direction.
“Perfect,” Jackson smiled brightly at her. “Then he can be discharged.”
“And if I disagree?”
“Then you stay in that bed until you have somewhere to stay.”
“Fine,” Bellamy sighed, pushing to his feet. “Let’s go, Princess.”
Bellamy reached over, groaning slightly as he grabbed his jacket from the bed. He closed his eyes taking a minute before he turned towards Clarke. He nodded his head in the direction of the exit. He didn’t say a word or wait for her to follow him towards the parking lot. Bellamy heard her soft footsteps behind him as he made his way towards the parking lot. He attempted to shrug on his jacket but stopped as the pain in his ribs intensified.
“Bell,” Clarke whispered softly behind him. “Let me help you.”
“It’s fine,” Bellamy gritted out. “I’ll be fine.”
Bellamy heard her sigh softly but ignored it again as he moved for the exit. He knew that she was just trying to help him so he didn’t freeze but he didn’t care. He just wanted the hellish day to be over with and to go home. Bellamy stomped his way across the parking lot and over to her car, waiting as she unlocked the doors. He listened as the locks popped and silently slid into the passenger’s seat. He just closed his eyes refusing to break the silence as they made their way back to the house and his truck.
Clarke chewed on her bottom lip as her fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly. She could feel the frustration rolling off of Bellamy in waves. It made the guilt weighing down on her press a little harder. She was tempted to glance over at him but decided against it. Clarke turned into the driveway parking her car in the same spot and shutting it off. She turned to apologize but he was out of the car before she could say anything.
“Bellamy!” Clarke shouted following after him. “Where are you going?”
Clarke caught up to him just as he reached the driver side of his truck. She went to pull on his arm but stopped when she remembered his injuries. Clarke switched tactics swiftly putting her hand on the window and pushing it closed. She heard a grunt as the handle slipped from his fingertips and shut with a thud.
“I asked you a question, Bellamy,” Clarke huffed, turning to peer up at him. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going home,” Bellamy clarified, attempting to open the door again. “I only agreed in order to be discharged.”
“You heard the doctor, Bell,” Clarke chastised. “You have to wrap your ribs and can’t do that on your own.”
“Clarke,” Bellamy whispered her name like a curse. “I can’t stay here ...with you.”
Clarke closed her eyes at the pricking sensation of tears that threatened to fall. She took a deep cleansing breath to steady her racing heart. She opened her eyes as she turned to face him fully before she said a word.
“Jesus fuck, Bellamy, let it go,” Clarke ground out glaring up at him. “I apologized. It’s been years. Let me help you after shoving you off a ladder.”
“I don’t need your guilt, Clarke,” Bellamy sneered. “Or your pity.”
“Fine, Bellamy,” Clarke agreed, backing off the door and walking towards the house. “Have fun walking in the cold.”
Clarke didn’t glance back as she made her way to the house. She had swiped his keys knowing he wouldn’t stay with her willingly. Clarke unlocked the front door leaving it open for him to follow her inside. She turned around just as he crossed the threshold and closed the door gently.
“You win, Princess,” Bellamy muttered, kicking his boots off. “For a week. No longer.”
“Okay, I guess,” Clarke reluctantly agreed. “You can sleep…”
“On the couch,” Bellamy blurted out. “I’ll just take the couch.”
“You don’t have to, Bell.” Clarke whispered fidgeting with the strings on her coat. “It’s still your room.”
“Clarke, we both know that isn’t true,” Bellamy sighed looking at the floor. “It hasn’t been for years. I’ll just take the couch.”
Clarke took in the deep sadness etched into his features and felt her heart clench. She wanted to say something more to remind him of the friendship they once shared but knew it was pointless. Clarke grabbed a blanket from the back of her recliner and tossed it at him. Without another word, she turned her back on him and left him alone. She swiped the errant tear from her cheek and got ready for bed. She would deal with everything in the morning.
Bellamy jolted awake as a sharp pain stabbed against his right side. He grunted as he sat up, slowly remembering the prior day's events. Bellamy sighed shaking his head at the mess he found himself in. He never should’ve accepted the job for her, knowing where she lived. It was bad enough he injured himself, but now he was staying here with her in this house.
“Coffee?”
“Fuck, Clarke,” Bellamy grumbled looking towards the living room entrance. “How long?”
“Long enough to witness your attempt at falling off the couch,” Clarke laughed, setting a cup down on the table. “Seriously, sleep in a bed tonight.”
Bellamy grabbed the coffee from the table and took a large gulp. He closed his eyes, sighing as the bitterness of the black coffee hit his taste buds. It was just as good as he remembered and that was dangerous. The longer he stayed here the harder it would be to walk away.
“Let’s take a look at your ribs.”
“Uh, yeah,” Bellamy nodded. “Let me take a pain pill before you start prodding.”
“Meet you in the bathroom,” Clarke said, moving away from the doorway. “You know where it’s at.”
Bellamy grabbed his pain pills taking two with the last of his coffee. He stood making his way down the hall to his bathroom. Bellamy paused when he came to a door with a bright purple “O” hanging on the door. He traced the letter with his fingertips wondering what was on the other side.
“I didn’t touch it,” Clarke called from the bathroom. “Have you heard from her?”
“Not, uh, not since mom died,” Bellamy declared meeting her eyes. “She’s been gone since everything fell apart.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Bellamy admitted softly. “Me too.”
Bellamy made his way into the bathroom shrugging his shirt up. He struggled as pain shot down his side when he tried to move it any higher. Bellamy glanced towards Clarke, nodding slightly in acceptance of help. He tensed when he felt her fingertips graze his stomach.
“Sorry, my hands are a little cold.”
Bellamy snorted attempting to cover up a laugh knowing it had nothing to do with her hands. It had everything to do with the fact that it was her touching him. He wasn’t ready to admit that feelings still laid dormant and were reawakened with a simple touch. Bellamy closed his eyes as the bandages began to loosen. He shivered slightly as goosebumps raced across his skin.
“I’ll be quick.”
“I’m sure you will, Princess.”
Bellamy watched her as she worked swiftly to bandage his ribs. He noticed that she managed to finish without touching him again. Maybe she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she seemed. Bellamy shook his head clearing that errant thought from his mind. He cleared his throat as he pulled his shirt down the rest of the way.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Clarke said with a nod. “Do you want breakfast?”
“Uh, I don’t think…”
“Bellamy, it’s just breakfast,” Clarke argued. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Clarke...”
“Bellamy…”
“This wasn’t your fault,” Bellamy insisted. “It was an accident.”
“I shoved you off a ladder,” Clarke asserted, glaring at him. “I never should’ve hired you to come here, but I did, so let me do what I can to help.”
Bellamy just nodded his response knowing that fighting it was pointless. He turned following her to the kitchen and sat at the table. He looked down noticing the nicks and scratches on the surface. Bellamy felt his chest tighten realizing it was the same old table. He reached under to trace the B and C etched into the wood. He turned to look at the girl standing at the stove cooking breakfast. Maybe it was finally time to talk about the past, he just wasn’t sure how to bring it up.
Clarke could feel the tension building inside of the house. Somehow they had managed to fall into a routine. She helped him with his ribs, they ate, he helped where he could, but mostly he slept. Clarke tried to avoid him whenever possible, retreating to solitude to avoid the tension, but nothing helped. The tension was building and she was afraid of where it would lead.
“Dinner is done.”
Clarke settled into the chair she had occupied the last few days. She was going to attempt to convince him to sleep in a bed. The couch was barely long enough for her to lay down, let alone him.
“When did you learn to cook?” Bellamy asked as he slid into his seat. “I never pegged you as a homemaker.”
“I, uh, I,” Clarke stammered. “Learned from the cook books.”
“My mom’s?”
“Yeah, they were here,” Clarke explained. “It was the closest thing I had to her at the time.”
“Princess…”
“Stop!” Clarke shouted, slamming her fork down. “Stop calling me that like it fucking matters!”
“Clarke, I didn’t mean…”
“I’m sorry, Bellamy,” Clarke apologized, taking a deep breath. “Being here with you, talking about her, but not what happened is too much.”
“Do you want to do that?” Bellamy asked. “Talk about what happened?”
“I did nothing wrong, Bellamy,” Clarke defended, glaring from across the table. “I thought I was helping.”
“Clarke…” Bellamy began. “You didn’t even ask. You just assumed it was the right thing. And you did it.”
“Bellamy, you had just lost your mom,” Clarke explained. “I didn’t want you to lose your childhood home.”
“No, I just lost my best friend,” Bellamy muttered. “We were on the verge of something, Clarke, then you threw it away.”
Clarke watched in stunned silence as he stormed off into the house. She heard a door slam down the hall and sighed. Clarke sat for a moment before standing to clear the table. Neither of them were going to eat anyway. She finished with the last dish then made her way towards the bedroom. She raised her hand and knocked gently.
“Bellamy,” Clarke called through the door. “Can we start again?”
Clarke listened intently for a response, but got nothing in return. She rested her forehead against the door looking for something to say. Clarke could feel her heart breaking again as she lifted her head away from the door. She choked back the sob attempting to rip from her throat.
“I’m so sorry, Bellamy,” Clarke whispered. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Clarke pushed herself off of the door. She didn’t try to hold back her sobs and tears from falling. It was the first time he had ever acknowledged that there was something between them. She had been prepared to confess her feelings to him that night, but it had ended the moment she showed him the deed. Clarke never understood why he walked away from everything. She was starting to understand but it might be too late.
Bellamy laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to calm his racing heart. He counted to a thousand before rolling onto his side. He was struggling to rein in his anger at the situation. Even after all these years, he still felt the sting of betrayal. Bellamy took a deep breath, instantly regretting it as her scent filled his nose. He hadn’t even realized she had taken his room.
“Fucking hell.” Bellamy muttered as he moved off the bed slowly. “This ends tonight.”
Bellamy opened the door making his way down the hall. He stopped just shy of entering the living room. He listened as soft sobs drifted in from the inside and the cackling snaps of a fire. Bellamy could picture her curled up on the couch crying softly over him. He turned the corner and found that exact sight before him.
“Clarke,” Bellamy called to her. “Can we talk?”
“Why? Clarke asked as she stared into the fire. “So you can yell at me again?”
Bellamy watched as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. He moved over to the other side of the couch and sat down. Bellamy waited silently for her to turn towards him. He wasn’t going to have this conversation with the side of her face.
“What?” Clarke asked, turning towards him. “What more is left to say?”
“I’m sorry,” Bellamy started. “I took my anger out on you.”
“Your anger?”
“Yeah, Clarke,” Bellamy admitted softly. “I was angry at the world, at my mom, at the situation.” He explained. “Then you came in with your savior complex and I lost it.”
“I don’t understand,” Clarke shook her head in confusion. “I just wanted to save…”
“That’s the thing, Clarke,” Bellamy said, cutting off her explanation. “I didn’t need you to save anything...I just needed you.”
“Bell…” Clarke choked out as tears fell free again.
“I was barely accepting having lost my mom,” Bellamy confessed softly reaching for her hand. “I didn’t know how to accept the house from you. I felt betrayed by you.”
“I was never going to use my trust fund,” Clarke admitted gripping his hand in return. “It was guilt money from my mother.”
“It made me feel like I wasn’t good enough,” Bellamy murmured. “That just having me wasn’t enough for you.”
“Bellamy…”
“Clarke, can we maybe,” Bellamy paused unsure how to finish. “Start over?”
“Yeah, I think we owe it to ourselves to try.”
Bellamy grinned as he pulled her into his side. He was careful to maneuver just right to avoid angering his ribs again. He kissed the top of her head softly when he felt her sigh. She fit perfectly into the crook of his arm, molding her body against his own. Bellamy rested his head gently on top of hers and stared into the fire. He wasn’t sure if they could completely start over and forget the past, but he was sure as hell going to try.
One Year Later
Clarke worked alongside Bellamy stringing the lights around the tree. Her heart felt so full as she glanced up at him beside her. It wasn't easy to get to this point and between everything, it almost didn’t happen. She smiled when he caught her looking at him. Clarke moved over to him, reaching up to kiss him gently on the cheek. She closed her eyes and sighed as he hugged her in return. Both of them jumped apart as the front door burst open.
“Merry Christmas, Griffin!”
Clarke laughed when she realized who walked through the front door. She moved away from the tree to greet her friend with a hug.
“Murphy?”
“Bellamy Blake,” Murphy greeted with a grin. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“Murphy don’t you start,” Clarke warned. “No fighting on Christmas.”
“Hey, I never thought I’d see him here again,” Murphy defended with a wink. “You hurt her and I’ll fucking end you...in a non-homicidal kinda way.”
“Murphy!”
“Understood,” Bellamy agreed, pulling Clarke back to him. “But Princess, how is it Murphy has a key to my house?”
“Our house,” Clarke corrected. “And he actually doesn’t, I’m pretty sure he picked the lock.”
“Talents of a misspent youth,” Murphy smirked. “Seriously, who do you think decorated while you were being dumb?”
“You let Murphy decorate my house?”
“Bellamy Blake,” Clarke admonished, shoving him lightly. “If I have to remind you one more time that it’s our house, you can go stay in the trailer outback!”
“You’re right, Princess,” Bellamy said, kissing her forehead. “It is our house and I won’t forget it again.”
“Good, you better not.”
“I love you, Princess.”
“I love you too, Bell.”