Inspired by the song Sober by Selena Gomez

"Clarke," Gina says when Clarke picks up her phone. "Bellamy's here. Can you come and get him?"

"Yeah."

It's the fourth night in a row that Clarke has had to go and pick Bellamy up from the bar Gina works at because he's too drunk to drive home. And of course, she's always going to do it. She doesn't mind doing it, she'd do anything for him, and this isn't really asking much. But she's concerned about him. It was okay on Thursday, when he got the news that he hadn't won the custody battle and Octavia was going to live with her rich father she barely knew.

It was okay on Friday, because it's Friday and who doesn't love a drink on a Friday night? Ditto for Saturday. But it's Sunday now, and he has to work tomorrow, and Clarke is more than a little worried about him. He doesn't normally drink this much, but he took the news about Octavia hard. Clarke doesn't blame him, but she doesn't think alcohol is the solution. She doesn't know what is the solution though, and she can't really help him. All she can do is be there for him.

He's waiting out the front for her when she arrives and he slides into the passenger seat sullenly.

"You didn't have to come," he tells her.

"What are friends for?" she says lightly, though her heart is aching at seeing him like this.

"Do you want me to take you home or do you want to stay at my place?" she asks gently, but trying not to sound like a coddling mother.

Bellamy shrugs emphatically. "Your place." She drives him back to her the shitty apartment that she's rented while she's in her gap year, just to get away from her overbearing mother for a while. She unlocks the door and Bellamy immediately sinks into a lounge chair.

"You want to talk about it?" Clarke asks, hovering by his side.

"What is there to say?" Bellamy replies flatly. "I lost her."

"You'll still get to see her," Clarke assures him softly. Bellamy snorts and Clarke knows it's not what he wants or needs to hear, but it's the best she can come up with. She perches on the side of the chair and puts an arm around him. "I'm really worried about you," she whispers. "What can I do? What do you need from me?"

Bellamy gazes up at her with unfocused eyes, still clearly drunk. Clarke looks at him searchingly, and even in his drunken state, she's still totally in love with him. She's pretty sure he knows that, but he's never really been in a place for a relationship anyway, even if he does feel the same.

"Clarke," he says hoarsely, and Clarke feels a flutter in her chest, the way she always does when he says her name. It's getting pathetic, really.

"Mmmm?" she hums. He doesn't respond though, just pulls her in and kisses her, gently at first, then a little rougher and Clarke melts into him easily, his hand sliding under her shirt. Clarke has to steel herself and pull away before she can let it get any further. She wants him, and god, he's an even better kisser than she'd imagined, but he's drunk and upset and it isn't how she wants to do this.

"Bellamy," she says huskily. "You're drunk."

"Please Clarke," Bellamy pleads, and her heart aches with how sorrowful his voice sounds. "I just need someone tonight."

Clarke hesitates. "Okay," she whispers, and Bellamy pulls her in again. It almost doesn't matter that he doesn't really want her, he just wants someone. And she knows it's probably a bad idea but she's so fucking in love with him, and she can't give him Octavia back, but she can give him this, herself, if that's what he needs for now. She never has been able to deny him anything.

He's gone when she wakes up, and she can't pretend it doesn't hurt. She had known it was a one time thing, but they're friends for christ's sake and they'd crossed a line and god, it was good. He was good, slow and gentle and perfect, and she hates that she might not ever get to have him in her bed again. It would be nice to talk about it, debrief. She knows he's hurting, but she has feelings too.

She goes to work at the local art gallery, still thinking about his fingers on her skin, his tongue between her thighs, and she still knows it was a bad idea because now she knows what he feels like, what he can make her feel like and she wants him so much more. But she can't bring herself to regret it.

Bellamy calls her while she's on her lunch break, and she's relieved he's not avoiding her.

"Sorry about last night," he says.

"It's fine," Clarke assures him, though she's not really sure if it is or not. "Are you okay?"

"A bit hungover," he says. A pause. "I really am sorry. I feel like a dick. I shouldn't have-," Clarke cuts him off before he can apologise further.

"Bellamy, it's okay, really. You were the drunk one. If anything I was taking advantage of you," Clarke tells him.

"Okay," Bellamy says reluctantly. "I promise it won't happen again."

It does happen again though, because Bellamy continues to drown his sorrows in alcohol and Clarke continues to pick up the pieces. She suggests he gets drunk at her place so she doesn't have to go and get him every other night.

He walks in carrying a slab of beer and a bottle of whiskey.

"Bellamy," Clarke says disapprovingly.

"Relax, it's not all for me," he tells her. Clarke purses her lips at him. "I'm tired of drinking alone. I figured it was the least I could do." He grins at her and Clarke's objections dissipate. She grabs the bottle of whiskey from him and takes it to the kitchen where she pulls out a couple of glasses. She's pretty sure Bellamy's already had a few, he's at that easy talkative stage, and he's happier than Clarke's seen him in weeks. She normally gets him at the other end when he's trashed and dejected, or when he's sober and stoic.

"I guess we're drinking this straight?" Clarke asks as she pours. "I don't have any coke or anything."

"It's better straight anyway," Bellamy tells her. "We should play a drinking game."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Bellamy," Clarke says hesitantly. It's bad enough she's encouraging him to drink at all, let alone play a drinking game.

"Aw, come on Clarke, you're such a spoil sport," he pouts. "One game?"

"Fine. One game," Clarke relents.

They end up playing never have I ever, which, since they know each other pretty well already, just turns into both of them trying to get the other drunk. Clarke is pleasantly inebriated and she's forgotten all the reasons why she shouldn't be getting drunk with Bellamy.

"Okay, we should play two truths and a lie," Bellamy suggests.

"You said one game," Clarke reminds him. "And anyway it will be way too easy to guess the lie, we know each other too well."

"Come on," Bellamy grins mischievously. "You go first."

"Fine," Clarke huffs. She thinks for a moment, squirming under Bellamy's heated gaze. She's not sure when he started looking at her like that, but between her ever present crush on him and the alcohol clouding her brain, she's not exactly thinking straight. "Okay. I once went two weeks without showering. I want to go skydiving one day. I think smooth peanut butter is better than crunchy peanut butter."

"You could at least try to make it hard," Bellamy snorts. "I know you love crunchy peanut butter."

"I told you this would be too easy," Clarke rolls her eyes. "You go."

"One; I hate pineapple on pizza," he pauses. Clarke raises an eyebrow at him. She already knows that's a lie. "Two; what we did the other night was amazing and I can't stop thinking about it," he pauses again, searching her eyes for her reaction. Clarke bites her lip, her heart rate picking up. "Three; I really think we should do it again. Just once more." Clarke doesn't stop and think before she grabs him, pulling him in and covering his mouth with a hot, open mouthed kiss, because if she did she'd probably recognise what a mistake she's making. But she doesn't and she lets him drag her into his lap, push his tongue into her mouth, pull her t-shirt over her head and throw it to the floor. She grinds against him as his lips graze her jaw line, her neck, her collarbone, her breasts.

They hastily make their way to Clarke's bedroom, trying desperately to be close to each other while discarding the rest of their clothing. Her skin burns everywhere he touches her and their kisses are rushed and frantic now, like they've both been wanting this for too long. Somewhere down inside she knows this means more to her than it does to him, but she doesn't think about that now, just loses herself in him, and in the moment. What will happen tomorrow flickers somewhere in the back of her mind, but tomorrow can wait.

She comes with him thrusting inside her, holding onto him for dear life and he groans her name when he reaches his own climax. He rolls away from her then, but he doesn't move to leave and Clarke finds his hand with hers amongst the rumpled sheets and she falls asleep with her fingers intertwined with his.

She tries not to be too disappointed when he isn't there again in the morning. It's not like she was expecting him to stay. It's just sex for him, she knows that. She's mostly okay with it. It's not like he's leading her on, pretending he wants a future with her.

He doesn't call her this time, or even text her, and she's not sure if that's because he assumes she's okay with it (technically she initiated it after all), or whether he doesn't care. She knows he's got a lot to deal with and she doesn't really blame him for not worrying about her, but she still feels like she's waiting for him to acknowledge that it happened. That it was good and that she's still important to him.

But he kind of just pretends like everything's the same, which, she supposes, it probably is for him. They still hang out, along with their other friends, and Clarke tries to act normal. She thinks she does a pretty good job, considering every time she looks at him she can feel the ghosts of his hands and lips on her skin, the memory of him groaning her name at the forefront of her mind. She doesn't think he's aware of how much she pines for him, no more than usual anyway. But Raven notices.

"What's going on with you and Bellamy?" she asks Clarke, a Saturday night a couple of weeks after the second time with Bellamy. The group is at Gina's bar, and Raven is supplying her with drinks seeing as she's too young to buy them herself. Bellamy is laughing with Miller by the bar, and Clarke likes seeing him happy, she just wishes the happiness was real.

"What do you mean?" she responds to Raven.

"You seem to kind of tense up every time he gets near you," Raven says, clearly concerned. "Did something happen? Did you tell him how you feel and he rejected you?"

"No," Clarke shakes her head. She glances at Bellamy again. "We slept together. Twice. It wasn't a big deal."

"For him maybe," Raven frowns. "Does he know how you feel?"

"I think he can't be totally oblivious," Clarke shrugs. "It doesn't matter. It's not like I wasn't totally consenting. He needed someone and I was there."

"That's fucked up, Clarke," Raven tells her. Clarke just throws back the rest of her drink and heads towards the bar for another. Bellamy spots her and makes his way over.

"Hey," he says. "Let me get that," he hands some money to the person behind the bar before Clarke can object.

"Trying to get me drunk again?" Clarke suggests, trying to keep her distance. Bellamy looks a little ashamed.

"I'm sorry," he apologises. "I promise I didn't go around to your house that night expecting anything to happen. It wasn't… premeditated."

"But it did happen," Clarke says flatly.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks.

"No," Clarke sighs. "Forget it, Bellamy." She turns to go but he places a hand on her waist, only gently, but it's enough to make her stop. She looks up at him in confusion before he leans down to kiss her, and she forgets she's not supposed to want him. She leaves her drink abandoned on the bar, her arms circling around his neck, tightening to keep him close to her.

Of course, Bellamy ends up back in her bed that night, and he whispers to her that she's beautiful, that he wants her, everything she wants to hear.

"I don't want to stop doing this, Clarke," he tells her.

"So don't," she says, her voice shaky. But he's gone again in the morning and Clarke wakes up alone.

Despite Bellamy's inability to acknowledge their relationship (whatever that relationship is) when he's sober, he keeps coming to her and she keeps letting him. She just wants him so much, and something is better than nothing, right?

"Bellamy," she moans one night while his hand is between her legs and his mouth is on her neck. "Are you sleeping with anyone else?" It's probably stupid to ask, she knows. But it's important to her, because if she only gets this much of him, she doesn't want anyone else to have him either.

"No, Clarke," he says gently. "It's only you, I promise." And he says it so earnestly that she knows he means it, and she knows he knows it means something to her, and that's enough for now.

Raven still disapproves. She doesn't blame Clarke exactly, but she does think Clarke can do better than a man who only gives her half of himself.

"He only has half to give," Clarke points out. "He's been through so much. He had a hard upbringing. His mom died, his dad was nowhere to be seen. His break up with Gina."

"It can't have been that bad if he keeps going back to her bar," Raven scoffs. Clarke ignores her.

"Octavia was the only thing he had left and he lost her to some old rich guy who hardly knew her," she continues. Raven doesn't look convinced.

"Look, Clarke, I know he's messed up. He needs support. But if you keep going like this it's only going to destroy both of you. Have you guys ever had sex while he's sober?" Clarke gives a small shake of her head. Raven gives her a pitying nod. "Sometimes you have to do what's best for yourself," she says gently. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

It's a little late for that, Clarke thinks, but what she says instead is, "I'll be fine, Raven."

She is fine, mostly. Sure, she wants more than what she's getting. She aches every time she wakes up and he's gone, even though she knows he won't be there. Sometimes she wakes up before him, but he never really sticks around to chat. She should know better by now. Her heart shouldn't clench every time he says her name softly. She shouldn't get her hopes up every time he ends up in her bed. But it's fine. She doesn't mind. It's enough.

And she really believes that, until he's with her one night, and she's beneath him, her legs wrapped around him, and he whispers amongst his dirty talk and sweet encouragement, "I love you."

It just slips out of his mouth so easily that it hurts, because either he means it and he's been holding it back, letting her think it's just sex for him, or (and this seems more likely), they're just empty words. He's not thinking about how those words might affect her, how much she's wanted to hear him say that to her. She knows he probably won't even remember saying it tomorrow morning. And even if he does he'll pretend he doesn't. She can't breathe all of a sudden and all at once she realises that this isn't enough. She can't let him build her up every night then destroy her in the morning. She lets him go then, pushing him off her.

"What's wrong?" he asks in concern. Clarke doesn't even know if his concern for her is real anymore. She feels like she's lost him as a friend.

"I just changed my mind, okay?" she snaps. "I don't feel like it. You should go." Bellamy hesitates for a moment before nodding and rolling off the bed. Clarke doesn't look at him as he gets dressed and walks to her bedroom door.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow?" he says, pausing by the door.

"Yeah," Clarke agrees, though she knows he won't remember to call her. Bellamy nods again and leaves her. When he's finally gone she lets herself burst into tears, sobbing into her pillow until she finally falls asleep in the early hours of the morning.

She doesn't warn him when she drops by his place the following morning, which might be a mistake. She should have given him time to get dressed at least. He answers the door in nothing but his boxers, his hair a mess and his eyes still weary from sleep. He lets her in without saying much and Clarke steels herself for what has to come next. Does he know why she's here?

"What's up?" he asks her, as if she's some random acquaintance who's dropped around for the first time. Clarke takes a deep breath. She has to do this now, while he's sober. When she knows he won't say all the things she wants to hear, try to make her stay.

"Do you remember what you said to me last night?" she asks him first. Because she has a small glimmer of hope that maybe he meant it, and if he could just say it to her now, in the light of day, she wouldn't have to leave him behind. He shakes his head though, and her heart falls. "You told me you loved me," she tells him flatly, and she watches his expression change from confusion to guilt. That tells her all she needs to know.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have…" he trails off. "I'm sorry," he repeats lamely.

"I know. But I can't do this anymore, okay?" Clarke tells him, her voice cracking slightly. "Because I'm in love with you, and I can't keep pretending not to be. I've given you everything, and what you give me in return isn't enough."

"Clarke," Bellamy interjects.

"Let me finish, please," Clarke pleads. Bellamy falls silent. "I really want to be there for you, because god knows you need someone right now. But it can't be me anymore. Sometimes I just have to do what's best for me. You'll still have Raven and Miller."

"Clarke, look, I get if you don't want to have sex with me anymore, but surely we can still be friends? I need you," Bellamy tells her, and Clarke has to take a deep breath so she doesn't give in.

"No, Bellamy," Clarke half laughs. "I don't even feel like your friend anymore," she says, her voice wavering slightly. "I feel like your booty call and I'm tired of listening to you lie to me every night." She takes a deep breath. "I'm going to college in a month, and I don't want to see you again in that time." Bellamy looks stunned.

"Clarke, you don't need to do this," he begs her. "What I said… it's not that I didn't mean it, it's just. I don't… love you like that." Clarke nods, and somehow it's even worse hearing him confirm what she'd already known.

"I know. You love me as much as you can love anyone right now. It's not your fault," she assures him. "Maybe… maybe one day we'll meet again and we'll both be ready for this. Whatever it is. But not now." She's proud of herself for sounding so calm, when on the inside she feels like her heart is being ripped out. But he did that every time he kissed her anyway, so it's not that much different.

"I'll miss you," Bellamy chokes. Clarke nods. She doesn't think she can say anything else without crying.

"Goodbye," she manages, but the tears are already welling in her eyes. She kisses him on the cheek and quickly leaves before she can fall apart in his arms. They both deserve better.