Chapter Text
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Clarke felt her heart start to match the beat of the music flowing through her ear pods, each foot step falling with the bass as she ran.
Thwick. Thwick. Thwick.
She breathed through each foot fall, the comforting swish of her ponytail brushing her shoulders as she rounded the corner in the park - her running path almost instinctive to her after months following familiar trail.
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
It was calming, the dark. The underlying buzz of the night that seeped through, under the music, as she began to slow her pace. The bench near the public water fountain that marked the halfway point of her nightly run was in sight. Just a few more paces, before it was time to check her heart rate, rehydrate, and start back to her townhouse.
One, Two, Three.
Clarke mentally counted her breaths, eyes on her watch while she counted her pulse - watching carefully as the cracked clock face ticked. Her friends mocked her relentlessly for years for not splurging on something newer. After all, smartwatches have been on the market “forever” at this point - they can sync to your phone and track all of this information with little to no user interaction. Why rely on such antiquated practices? But this is how she always ran with her father when he was alive, and somehow this made her still feel that closeness with him.
Leaning down to take a drink from the fountain, Clarke heard a crack of a twig behind her. She turned her head sharply to look over her shoulder, a habit of spending the last five years constantly looking over her shoulder - desperately trying to make sure that the past wasn’t following her any more. The sigh of relief that escaped her when she saw a doe - looking just as surprised to see Clarke as Clarke felt to see the deer - washed through her veins. At least no one knew she was back. The draw of a stable income was so much more tempting now that she - well. Now.
The first few years had been rough, and the constant belittlement of her mother the first few months she after she packed a bag and left everything behind took a toll. But sooner or later Abby had realized that distance was something Clarke needed. How else was she going to wrap her head around how every self-detonating decision she’d been making had dragged Clarke deeper and deeper into a depression Clarke had no idea how to pull herself out of.
For months after she’d first left, Clarke attributed the near constant nausea to her heartbreak, the desperate loss she felt - she’d cut herself off almost completely from her friends and family. Blocked nearly everyone’s numbers except her mother before changing her number completely. But after a few weeks it was clear there was more to it. The chill in her bones as she looked at the two pale blue lines was almost enough for her to charge her old phone to get his number. If only she called - he would answer, he would be happy, he would tell her how much he loved her, they would be the family he’d always wanted.
But that wasn’t Clarke’s reality. He’d made perfectly clear that he’d made his choice, and Octavia had reinforced that with her words.
“Just get the fuck out of our lives.”
Those eight words still haunted Clarke five years later. But it wasn’t that she didn’t understand. She did, but that didn’t change how desperately it hurt. They’d always felt inevitable, unchangeable, unbreakable - Bellamy and Clarke - it was almost funny how Clarke had taken that for granted, and she could see that now. That she hadn’t appreciated how much of his life he’d put on hold to make her happy.
Clarke’s reality was that she’d taken that moment to remember that he had a family now. By now Bellamy would have proposed, and he and Echo would be married. They probably had a kid of their own, maybe two. The house would have a fresh coat of paint, maybe even a new fence. Hell, if Bell had his way the couple would have a dog by now. Picture perfect.
In reality, she had made the decision to leave that life behind her - knowing that if she stayed, eventually everyone would find their own way to forgive her. Even if she never forgave herself. But Clarke also knew that the time would come that everything happened again. She wasn’t strong enough then to stay away. Clarke honestly couldn’t be sure that she was strong enough now.
But now she had time. She had distance. She could do this right.
.o.o.
Thirty minutes later, Clarke turned her key in the lock of the small two-story brownstone she now called home. She wiped the sweat from the back of her neck as she called out into the living room, “Mom! I’m back. Thanks for watching Mads for me!”
The light foot falls on the stairs, made her turn, smile on her face. Her mother would be coming down the stairs after putting Madi to sleep for the night, playing babysitter for a couple hours each night for the few months she’s been back - “I’ve got four years to catch up on with my granddaughter. You couldn’t pay me to stay away.”
And Clarke had tried, she’d kept Madi a secret until the month before she’d given birth. Complications had forced her hand. Otherwise, who knows? Maybe she’d be here. Maybe not. But once Abby had learned of Clarke’s pregnancy, the near constant digs and subtle insults had stopped. It was like she had finally understood why Clarke couldn’t and wouldn’t come home. There were days that Clarke wished that Abby didn’t have to have tangible proof that Clarke’s life was outside of her mother’s control, that Clarke was her own person and made her own mistakes, but life rarely did what one wished.
Which is why when Clarke turned to face the stairs, her smile fell completely when she not only saw her mother but a familiar head of dark curls, eyes glaring hatefully as he quietly followed Abby down to the first level of her home. Suddenly, Clarke felt her heart beat in her fingers, a tingling as an emptiness pulled through her, and it was impossible to swallow. She barely heard her mother speaking, she was so focused on the man behind her.
“-rke, please-“
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“-at the store, and we ran-“
Thwick. Thwick. Thwick.
“-couldn’t explain why there was a toddler with-“
In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.
“-insisted on following me to wait with us-“
One. Two. Three.
“Clarke.”
One word. That’s all it took for a single tear to escape, sound suddenly rushing back to Clarke’s senses. His voice hadn’t changed. Still deep, gruff, and questioning.
Flashes of moments from their lives before flashed through Clarkes mind, threatening to make more tears fall down her cheeks. A cacophony of emotion rushed through her body, knees weak from the pain of seeing him again. She’d known that eventually she would need to call him, but she’d hoped she had more time. She wasn’t ready. All the love she’d managed to convince herself was dead, all the anger, the pain, the frustration, came to her all at once before she found her voice.
“Out,” Clarke felt like she was on the outside of her skin, looking down as she continued, “I can’t talk about this right now. Not here, go home. Both of you.”
Abby looked almost sheepish as her eyes darted between the two. She quickly moved forward and grabbed her coat and purse off the back of Clarke’s couch, before she moved to her daughter.
“I’m sorry about this, really, I am. But you really ought to have told him sooner. I’ll leave you two to - I’ll leave you alone for now. I’ll see you tomorrow,” and the older woman was out the door.
Clarke willed her walls back up, each brick had it’s place and the mortar that held everything in place needed to be strong before she looked at Bellamy. Dealt with his anger, the betrayal for keeping something like this from him for so long. When she finally pulled her eyes from the floor to look at him, he still hadn’t spoken.
He looked like sin, in a dark blue t-shirt and dark jeans, hair longer but still wild. He had a beard now, scruffy and light, but distinctive. He had one hand limply hanging by his side, and the other clenched tightly around the newel of the bannister - tight enough that it had to be hurting him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her, the anger in his eyes almost hurt Clarke. But she could handle that. She had prepared herself for his resentment. Prepared herself to give up a part of her daughter’s life so that he could be part of it, without her.
That was one of the reasons it had taken Clarke so long to come home. At first it was fear - why go back to a place where the only thing waiting was derision and loneliness. But slowly that fear changed. What if he’d fought her for custody? Surely no courts would side with her, a semi-nomadic graphic arts designer - even one that came from family money - was no match for a white picket fence, stable family with married parents and the one point five kids that came with that stability. With his mother, and raising his sister while he himself was still a child, Clarke had always known that Bellamy would fight to be a part of Madi’s life. She just hadn’t been ready to share her baby girl yet. And wasn’t that the biggest problem? Suddenly, Clarke realized that she still wasn’t ready. She couldn’t let her go.
Somehow, Clarke managed to make eye contact with the one person who used to know her better than she knew herself and find her voice, “I said get out.”
.o.o.
Clarke spent the rest of the night drifting. In her mind she replayed every first she’d experienced with her daughter. The first time Madi laughed, the stumbles of her first steps, the giggles of her first birthday cake, the sleepless nights of being a single parent, the terror that struck with Madi’s first fever, the overwhelming relief when said fever broke, the cuddles, the child’s wonder with stories from Clarke’s old life, and her love for the people in them she’d never met. The memory of telling her daughter about this move pushed it’s way to the forefront of her mind.
“Sweetie, what do you think about going somewhere new? Mommy got a new job opportunity, and it’ll take us closer to Grandma? Would you like that?”
Squeals of excitement escaped the tiny child at decibels someone that small should be incapable of, “Gamma, gamma, gamma!”
Clarke chuckled with the image of her bouncing toddler clapping enthusiastically before she continued and scooped the girl out of her high chair, “And maybe Mommy will get her stuff together huh? Finally get you to meet all the people from Mommy’s stories? Would you wanna do that?”
The sweet smell of her daughters brown curls filled her senses as Clarke hugged her daughter close. She could do this. She had to.
Clarke had never lied to Madi, never shied away from the pain and the hurt, but she’d always tried to answer the toddler’s questions in a way that proved how much love there was in the world, that the girl didn’t have to be afraid of anything - because Mommy would never let the bad things hurt her if she could stop them. If it hadn’t been for her own mother offering Clarke the use of one of her rental properties, she never would have given in to Madi’s burgeoning questions about her “Daddy.” How do you explain to a four year old that her father had no idea she existed. So in lieu of explanations, Clarke had merely diverted. But, you couldn’t run from your past forever - no matter how much you wanted to.
When Abby had told her about an opportunity Marcus had learned about in his company’s design department, it had seemed like the perfect way to prove she was ready. Over five years, Clarke had been sure that her emotions had leveled, that she was stronger now.
After all, she had Madi to live for now - and no amount of pain and regret could keep Clarke from giving that little girl the world.
It had taken one look from Bellamy - not even a word - for her to doubt everything. Most of her brain was telling Clarke that it wasn’t too late. She could throw what they needed in a bag and go tonight - drive and drive until the pair was far away from this town and all of the judgement Clarke didn’t want to face.
But another look at Madi’s sleeping face, content in dreams, told her that for every reason Clarke had to run, there were two more to stay. How much longer could she divert Madi from asking about her father? How long until the bright spot in Clarke’s life started resenting her mother for keeping Madi away from half of her family?
She turned away from her daughter’s door way with a sigh and stepped towards her own room before she flicked off the hallway light. In the safety of her own room, door firmly shut behind her, Clarke felt her body go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Mindlessly she crawled under the covers and grabbed her phone off of the bedside table to message her mother before bed.
It had been rude of her to kick Abby out of her own house just because she was upset to be forced into a potential confrontation she hadn’t been prepared for. Her mother had been right in that eventually one of her old friends would see Madi in public - be it with Abby or with Clarke herself. She only wished that Abby had been forthright, that her mother had warned her what was waiting for her at home. Clarke started to feel the anger bubble up inside of her again with that thought. What right did Abby have to force this on her before Clarke had felt it was right? But she pushed it back down just as quickly. Her mother had been asking for the three months she’d been back when Clarke was going to take the leap and reach out to her former friends. Every time Clarke had had some excuse. We need to settle into the house first. I’m still so new at the office, I just need a little more time. Madi’s just getting used to her new school, next month I’ll start slow introductions, promise. We need a routine, it’ll be soon. With every excuse Clarke should have realized that soon would never come. Her old fear was always going to be in control. Abby had done what she thought was right. Clarke didn’t like it, but she could respect it.
Clarke unlocked her phone swiftly and opened her messaging app - as expected she had a couple texts from her mother.
Abby: I know you weren’t ready Clarke. And I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t my place to introduce them.
Abby: But you should have seen him at the store. The way he looked at her, it was like he knew instantly.
Abby: I couldn’t have kept him away.
Clarke felt her body relax, the fight leaving her as she began to respond. She typed out a quick response that everything was fine. They could talk tomorrow, and hash through the how and the why, etc. She had barely hit send, already geared to put her phone down and attempt to find a dreamless sleep when Clarke felt the device vibrate in her hand.
Unknown: I’ll be by in the morning. Alone. See you at 9.
The tingling sensation that had spread through her when she had laid eyes on Bellamy again for the first time in five years iced through her veins for the second time that evening - her fight or flight instincts screamed at her to run. This was exactly what she had dreaded. The inevitable. Quickly, Clarke texted her mother - she begged Abby to come pick up Madi to take her to the park in the morning before nine. She didn’t want Madi home for whatever might happen - and no matter that her mother had already taken the decision of how to introduce Bellamy to his daughter away from Clarke, she would make sure that from now on nothing would happen to upset the toddler.
Madi was Clarke’s everything now. And nothing would change that.
.o.o.
Clarke wasn’t sure how much sleep she’d gotten, if any, when Abby arrived the next morning to pick up Madi. Clarke was struggling to brush the tiny girls wild curls into pigtails when she heard the key in the door downstairs.
“We’re in Mad’s room Mom. Come see the beautiful monstrosity of an outfit our little one has picked out for today!”
The four year old was restless as she kicked her tiny feet, covered in clear sparkly plastic, already excited to go play at the park with her grandmother. When Abby finally made it up the stairs, the woman gave an exaggerated gasp of delight as she looked at Madi, “Well don’t you just look darling! Give me a spin!”
The child in question giggled as she pulled away from Clarke’s grasp, twirling a little to display her garish bright green shirt dress with equally bright orange leggings, complete with dark blue knocker ball hair ties for her pig tails, “Gamma - I pretty and ready to play!”
Clarke was in love with this bundle of energy - more so than she’d ever felt before in her life. How could anyone not be? This small girl had more compassion and love in her tiny four year old heart than Clarke had experienced in her entire life. Whatever happened today, Clarke knew that she had to reach some understanding with Bellamy in order to preserve that. She just hoped it wouldn’t break her heart to do it.
The next fifteen minutes passed quickly as Clarke put together a go-bag for Abby to take, complete with goldfish, pretzels, and cheese cubes in individual plastic baggies for when Madi inevitably got crabby and needed snacks to keep up her energy. Kisses were placed on her daughters head and mothers cheeks when the two got to the front door. By the time the door shut behind them, a silence overwhelmed Clarke’s ears as she glanced to the small digital clock in front of the television in her living room.
8:37 A.M.
Nervous energy raced through Clarke, and she ran up the stairs to her room to stop in front of her vanity mirror. The curls around her face were wild, half straight from sleep - half standing upright. There were slight bags under her eyes from not enough sleep the night before, and there was a weird stain on her shirt from god knows what. Quickly, Clarke stripped out of her threadbare t-shirt, and threw an oversized Mickey Mouse hoodie on over her bralette and leggings, before throwing on the first pair of clean socks she could pull out of her drawer. When she turned back to the mirror, she had just enough time to put some hair oil in her palms and finger comb her hair before she heard the doorbell echo through the two story townhome.
It was time to face the music of her own making.