Genre: Friendship / Supernatural / Drama / Humor / Romance /
Rated: T
Word Count: 11,066
Characters: Clarke Griffin / Bellamy Blake / Louise Givens [OFC] / Octavia Blake / Lincoln / Abby Griffin / Jasper Jordan / Monty Green / Finn Collins / Callie Cartwig
Characters Mentioned: Jake Griffin /
Relationships: Clarke/Bellamy (kinda) / Lincoln/Octavia /
Summary: |Still horrible with summaries| Clarke has always known she has powers, but what happens when people find out? What happens when she ends up liking said people? What happens when said people's girlfriend's brother comes to town and messes with everyone's dynamic? No idea, you tell me.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot /
A/N: Holy shit! I got two chapters out in one day, I'm a god damn miracle worker! I might add more, I might not. Not sure at this point so for now just consider it done and yell at me if you want.
Edit: This header part was included in the one shot, so I'll keep just for this chapter but it will go away.
Clarke was a young girl, maybe eleven or twelve, when she realized she had abilities.
Correction, she'd always known she could do things. Like when she was five and her hamster died? She pet him, staring at the little corpse, and suddenly- poof! The little thing was alive again, running for his wheel. She was surprised, to say the least, but being five she didn't particularly care. She was just glad her fuzzy buddy was back.
Time moved on and more of the same things happened; she'd be walking and find a bird, dead on the sidewalk, and just by crouching near it and wishing it was alive once more it would perk up and fly off before her face.
But it was when she was eleven or twelve when someone found out.
It was her mother. They were walking down by the marina when they saw a stray dog laying on the side of the road. Clarke started to run over to it, only to be pulled back by her mother.
"Clarke, that thing is dying, it probably has diseases..."
"Mom, it's dying..." She had yanked her arm from her mother's grip and ran over to the creature. It wasn't even dead, just a hit-and-run. The dog was struggling to breathe, whining in pain. Clarke stared at it for a moment before twisting its neck, she heard the snap before she heard her mother's horrified gasp.
"Clarke-!" She started to pet the dog, stroking its head and down its back. She did that for a few moments before the dog perked its head up, licking her face. She let out a small laugh before it ran off.
Clarke looked back at her mother to find her staring. Her expression was torn between shock and awe.
Abby had called Louise; her mother; Clarke's grandmother; almost immediately.
After that Clarke had gone to live with her grandmother, going to see her parents on the weekends.
She could do more than just heal people, but that was her specialty. Her grandmother told her that while most enchanters can do pretty much anything, as long as they learn it correctly, each one has their specialty. Louise was a nature specialist; she could make plants grow with a minimal amount of attention, flowers perked up when she walked in the room, with a wave of her hand a dead plant would be full of life again, animals would approach her without fear, she was an all-around kind person.
Clarke was a...'spiritual specialist' was what Louise had called it. She could heal others, sometimes bring back the dead, she could even speak to people on the other side on occasion. But, as it is with all abilities, there are drawbacks (She didn't know what her grandmother's drawbacks were). When she healed someone else their ailments would appear on her and she-...well she didn't really feel things.
It's not like she was completely emotionless. She could feel happy about some things. When she saw things suffering it gave her a twinge of sadness. But she couldn't bring herself to feel remorse.
When they were suffering and she had to put them out of their misery, it wasn't painful, it wasn't a struggle, and it wasn't a huge debt that weighed on her.
She had to stop bringing things back, though, after she turned thirteen her abilities matured into something that was difficult to handle. She had to stop everything for a while.
She tried to save a rabbit, but it mutated into something hideous, it was in more pain than before. That had caused her the most pain she'd ever been in. She put something into more pain than she took out of it.
Her grandmother helped her. It was...more than painful.
She messed up for years, only able to help some, not most.
When she was seventeen she broke. Her father died in a large car accident.
They had to bring in both her and her mom to confirm it was him, but they couldn't. His body had been mangled from the accident. They gave the two a minute alone upon Abby's request. Clarke instantly reached out, crying out in pain while she tried to help.
"Clarke-! No! You- You just...can't...not this time."
Jake shot up on the table, breathing heavy. He didn't say a word, just stared at the two. Grunting and growling replaced speech. His fingers fell off when he raised his hand. Abby had pushed her back standing away from the...thing...that used to be her husband. Clarke pushed away her mother's arm, going forward, she reached out a hand to her used-to-be father's face. He grunted in response but made no further movement. She looked for a second longer, checking behind her before turning back to him. She looked in his eyes; his cold, dead eyes meeting her void, distant ones. It took only a moment before both of her hands reached up and snapped his neck to the side, for the first time clenching her jaw in pain.
She turned back to her mother, finding her face almost...passive...
She grabbed her daughter's hand after placing Jake's body back to its original place. They walked out, Abby thanked the officers and they continued to the car, reaching it just before Clarke collapsed. It was only for a few minutes, but she was completely unconscious. Once they were driving silence took over the two again. Instead of taking her home Abby drove straight to her mother's house.
She sat Clarke down in the sitting room and dragged her mother away for a private conversation. After an hour of waiting, Abby came back out and announced that all three of them were moving.
"Away," Was the clearest description her mother would give her.
Five months before her eighteenth birthday they moved to a small town that you wouldn't know about if someone didn't tell you.
Her mother didn't make her go to school for the rest of the last month, instead, she made her train and study with grandmother; day in, day out.
By the middle of June she didn't fear to leave her house, at the end of the month she went into town by herself.
She was walking down the aisle at the grocery store when she collided with a large figure, falling onto her ass in the process.
"Shit, sorry!" She exclaimed, looking up to meet the eyes of a very large man.
"Why are you sorry?" He asked, extending his hand out to help her. "I knocked you on your-" He cut himself off after she grabbed his hand, pulling herself up. "You reek."
She looked offended and annoyed. "Thanks, fuck you too." She tried to storm off, but the guy reached out and wrapped his hand around her bicep.
"I meant- You reek of energy."
Her face obviously mirrored her confusion.
"You, um..." He looked around, there was no one in the immediate vicinity but he lowered his voice anyway. "You're an enchantress, aren't you?"
Clarke's eyes widened. She mirrored his movements from before, looking around before yanking him to the refrigerated section.
"How did you know that?!" She hadn't done anything in the store. She hadn't even cast a spell on the box of noodles at the back of the top shelf that she couldn't reach.
"Ah, well, like I said. You reek." She was unamused, and it was obvious that her spells didn't actually give off a smell (unless it was some kind of perfume or aromatherapy thing). "Well, you see, I...I really don't know how to explain it. We don't really have a name..."
She still looked skeptical.
"It's like...search and protect. Find a magical being and protect them with your life."
Her lips were drawn in a tight line as she slowly nodded. She turned and started to walk away.
"Hey! Wait!" He jogged after her, following her out of the store.
"What?" She wasn't annoyed so even she was confused at the hostility in her tone.
"I mean...I don't even know your name, and I am kinda supposed to pledge my life to protecting you..."
She shut her eyes and shook her head, "No, you don't. I-"
"Again, not sure how to explain it, but the best I got is like...imprinting. I don't get another person. It's you. For life."
It sounds weird and romantic... Sucks that he's stuck with me, of all people... she thought to herself.
She sighed again. "Clarke."
He looked back at her, "Huh?"
"Clarke. My name is Clarke."
"Well, Clarke, my name is Lincoln." He held out his large hand with a smile on his face. A soft smile found its way onto her face as she took his hand and shook it.
They went out to lunch and talked about the things each didn't know.
"You're a fucking necromancer?!" She couldn't tell if he was impressed or disgusted.
"On a certain level, I guess."
"God..."
"I prefer Clarke." She tried to joke with a smile. He let out a laugh.
"It's going to be hard to protect you, isn't it?"
"I mean, I like to think I don't cause that much trouble."
"Well...you can bring people back to life...you're bound to mess up, aren't you?"
She lost her bright smile, closing up a bit. She scratched the side of her nose. "Um, yeah, not as much as I used to, but..."
A look of understanding crossed his face, "I'm sure you'll be fine. And when you're not, that's what you have me for." She looked up to find him smiling gently at her.
His phone buzzed. "Ok, it's my girlfriend. I have to go meet her, but I'll talk to you later, yeah?"
She hesitated. "Am I going to be punched for talking to you?"
"Lord, do you not know Octavia?" She shook her head.
"No, we just moved here a little while ago. Mom didn't see the point in enrolling me for the last month."
"Oh...well what the hell kind of people did you go to school with before?!" He wasn't new to the idea of jealousy, but being punched for talking sounded extreme.
"Insecure rich bitches." She shrugged and slurped her milkshake. He laughed at her.
"You're great, I think we'll actually be great friends." He shook his head, smile not leaving his face. "No, she's not going to punch you for talking to me. She might threaten you with the whole 'don't try to steal my boyfriend or else' kind of thing, but that's about it."
She nodded her head, putting her number in his phone before paying and walking out of the small diner.
On the second of July, Louise insisted that Clarke invite her protector over for dinner.
Today Thursday 7/02
1:08 PM
Clarke
Hey
While she waited for him to respond, she decided to make herself mac'n'cheese. She was about to dump the cheese in when the PING came through.
1:16 PM
Lincoln
Hey
What's up?
1:16 PM
Clarke
So...
My G-mama insists on you coming over for dinner
1:16 PM
Lincoln
Should I be worried?
For my personal safety, that is...
1:16 PM
Clarke
Rude.
No.
She's nice
My mom might give you weird looks, so...
Be prepared for that
1:17 PM
Lincoln
What?
Why?
1:17 PM
Clarke
She's paranoid about everything.
Also, she thinks this is "a ploy to take advantage of an innocent girl"
Sometimes I think she forgets who I am...
1:17 PM
Lincoln
And the fact I have a girlfriend isn't throwing her off that?
1:17 PM
Clarke
That would be a no.
"People lie, Clarke, you of all people should know that."
1:18 PM
Lincoln
Wow
1:18 PM
Clarke
So you'll come?
1:18 PM
Lincoln
Of course
1:18 PM
Clarke
Do you like Indian food or do I have to tell my G-mama to not make my favorite food?
1:18 PM
Lincoln
Wow
That didn't feel like a guilt trip at all...
1:19 PM
Clarke
Really?
It should...
1:19 PM
Lincoln
HA
What time?
1:19 PM
Clarke
Five?
1:19 PM
Lincoln
Perfect
Looking back at her pot, her noodles had burned. She got upset, unfortunately, that made the noodles explode in her face and scatter around the kitchen.
"Perfect. Just perfect."
Neither her mother or her grandmother were home so she enchanted the pieces that she couldn't find to fly back into the pot and threw it away before settling on microwavable popcorn for lunch.
Later, while Clarke was sitting on the couch watching TV, both her mothers (grand and not) came home.
"Clarke! Why aren't you dressed?" Her mother looked horrified.
"Calm down, Abigail. Her guest won't be here for over two hours."
"Still, she-"
"Is right here and is capable of deciding for herself." Clarke interrupted, turning back to her program.
She could hear her mother mumbling something about no respect, but she chose not to care.
When it was four-fifteen she chose to jump into the shower, much to her mother's dismay.
Four-forty-five; she's walking down the stairs, following the heavenly smell she hadn't had in a while.
She walked into the kitchen to find her mother drinking a large glass of wine in the corner glaring at her own mother who was chopping vegetables. And chopping vegetables means there are two cutting boards floating in front of her face with knives cutting through the peppers and onions while Louise cuts up the chicken on her own.
When everything is up to code it's thrown into the pan with the sauce and she begins on the rice.
At four-fifty-five the doorbell rings, she walks over to the door and opens it to find Lincoln and a girl. The girl is stunning; she has piercing green eyes, brows meant to kill, her hair is thrown into a messy bun but looks like it took over twenty minutes, her clothing isn't even revealing or tight but she looks incredible anyway.
"Um, hi?"
"Hi, this is Octavia. My girlfriend." Lincoln clarifies.
"Ah..." He can see the confusion on her face.
"She wanted to see who was taking up so much of my time."
"Oh, um...sorry about that..." She kept looking over her shoulder, making sure the girl couldn't see what was happening in her kitchen.
"It's fine, I'm not worried you're going to take him, I just wanted to meet you." She was very blunt. Like there was no possible way Clarke would ever have her boyfriend; she wasn't wrong, Lincoln was devoted to this girl.
"Um, ok..." She was unsure of what to do next. Did this girl want to stay for dinner? Was she going to leave now that she'd met Clarke? What exactly did she plan to accomplish from this trip?
"We should get coffee later this week. Chat."
"Ok..." Clarke was still very wary of the girl and her bluntness.
"Alright." And with that she kissed Lincoln on the cheek and went down the stairs, hopping on a motorcycle and driving away.
"Cool girl."
"Yeah, she's the best. She's really nice when you get to know her." He explained as she ushered him inside.
"I bet." Clarke wasn't planning on doing so. She didn't get to know people, it was dangerous for her.
The two walked into the dining room that was adjoined with the kitchen. Her grandmother had retired to the table, replacing Abby in the wine drinking, while Abby had replaced Louise in finishing up the food.
"Smells delicious," Lincoln commented. Clarke had to roll her eyes with a smirk on her face.
"Why thank you, dear. How are you this evening?" Lou was always polite, she always wanted to get to know people. Abby continued to glare at the boy, not saying a word. "Oh- For Christ sake, Abigail! I raised you better than this."
"Hello. Welcome to our home." She said in a monotone, not daring to drop her glare.
"Good lord, drop the attitude or eat somewhere else. No need to be a little bitch to a new person." Clarke's grandmother wasn't afraid to call Abby out on her shit; it never ceased to make Clarke smile. "So, dear, tell me a bit about yourself, Clarke doesn't tell me anything."
He gave a slight chuckle pulling up the seat next to Lou.
"Well, I assume you know my name..."
"That'd be a no. When she goes out, it's always, 'I'm meeting a friend' and you're the only one, so..."
He laughed again, "Lincoln Jackson. I'll be a senior at the high school in fall. I live on my own, my parents passed when I was a kid and my Aunt lives out of town."
"How do you know about magic?" Abby asked dryly.
"Abigail, can you at least try and be pleasant? For once?"
"It's ok. My aunt is an enchantress, same with her daughter."
"Ooh, what's her specialty?" He seemed a bit confused for a moment before catching on.
"Not sure what it's called, I don't know that much about it but it helps her a lot with combat and fighting."
"Ooh!" Her grandmother was downright excited with Lincoln's presence.
The night went on; Lincoln told stories about his life, Abby didn't lighten up on her glare, Louise loved everything about him, and Clarke enjoyed her favorite meal.
"Ms. Givens, this meal was terrific." He told her when he was at the door.
"Oh, you're far too kind. And, please, call me Lou or Louise." She said with a smile.
"Thank you for the lovely night. Clarke, I'll see you tomorrow?" She nodded. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Abby."
"Ms. Griffin." She corrected him.
"For fucks sake..." Louise mumbled, "He will call you Abby. Stop being a pain. I apologize for her."
"It's fine, really. All of you have a lovely night." He left with a smile, riding away on his bike.
After the door was shut, Clarke went towards her room, not wanting to stick around to hear the yelling match about to occur.
"Good lord, Abby. Why do you have to be a pain in the ass all the time? Doesn't it get tiring?"
"Forgive me for being cautious. We still barely know this boy-"
"What is it going to take for you to trust him? Clarke trusts him. I trust him. He's a decent person. For Christ sake- Clarke is somewhat happy for once. Isn't that enough?"
"Someone making my daughter happy isn't a bar on my trust scale."
"Fuck- What is this really about? Huh? Tell me."
Abby ignored the question, "and, really? 'Call me Lou or Louise', Jeezus mom. I don't even call you by your first name."
"You're my daughter. I am your mother. You will call me Mom."
"Yeah, alright."
"Good god, when did you get so uptight? You were so free and caring, you used to be loving."
"Nice one, mom. Nice." She could hear her mother stomp into her room before slamming the door like a teenager.
Her grandmother came in a few minutes later.
"Hey, doll. You good for the night?"
"Yeah, G-mama. I'm ok."
"Alright, sorry about your mom. I really like your friend."
"Me too." She ignored the comment about her mother.
Abby hadn't always been the most caring mother, always at work or focused on work related things, but ever since they moved she just seems to be getting colder and more disengaged. Now she wasn't just unfocused, she was angry at everything and everyone.
At one point Clarke guessed it was because she didn't have any abilities herself and she was living in a house with two magically inclined people. And that might be it, but it didn't really give her the right to be rude and uppity with everyone.
She pushed all thoughts of her mother to the back of her brain and tried for sleep; as always her dreams were invaded by the thoughts of the dead.
Weeks went by, nothing changed too much. She continued training with her grandma, she would hang out with Lincoln most of the time, he taught her a few combat moves, her mother continued to distance herself, Clarke even hung out with Octavia a few times. She still refused to get close to the girl, she was friends with Lincoln because he was metaphorically tethered to her, but she wasn't going to purposefully drag his girlfriend down with all her shit.
It was in the middle of August that things started to go wrong...again. Her mother and grandmother were both out of town (both conferences, medical and magic) so she decided to take up her ritual meditation again, hoping it might tame down the voices in her dreams.
She turned the heat up and stripped down to her shorts and bra before pushing all the furniture to the sides of the room and painting out her pentagram on the hardwood in her blood substitute; they may be magic, but magic still calls for a price and it's not like enchanters run around killing virgins every time they need to perform a ritual, especially in this day and age. After all the symbols were down, she repeated them on her skin; her inner forearms, thighs and in between her rib cage. She placed her candles at the points and turned off the lights. Placing herself in the center, she crossed her legs and closed her eyes, beginning her quiet chants. She could feel herself lift slightly off the ground as flashes of unknown faces flew by her, talking about everything, ranging from a lady asking if her cat found a good home to a man pleading that someone clear his internet history. She engaged in small conversations with some, asking others questions, trying her hardest to avoid death itself.
She had no idea how long it was before she was ripped back to reality, crashing down to the ground, with an exclamation of "What the hell?"
She shook the black from her eyes, looking around her she found her candles blown out and the overhead lights turned back on. She looked over to where she'd heard the voice to find her friend and his girlfriend standing in the doorway; the latter being the one who spoke.
"Ah, shit..." She muttered to herself.
"Alright, what the fuck!?" Octavia's eyes were bugging out of her head.
"Dammit, Lincoln, couldn't warn me?"
"Sorry, I've been trying you for hours," sure enough, when she looked behind her, outside was completely dark, "excuse me for being a tad worried-"
"Wait, why is this not freaking you out?!" The brunette was still obviously confused.
"Um..." He looked like a child being caught in a lie, which- to be fair, he kind of was.
"Look, you probably won't believe either of us, but basically I'm-"
"A witch?!" She interrupted.
Clarke sighed with frustration, "We prefer the title of enchanters or enchantresses. But sure, either deals with magic."
"You're serious? You have magical powers?" She looked at the blonde with utter disbelief.
"What'll it take to make you think I'm not crazy?"
"Uh..." She looked around the room.
Clarke rolled her eyes, walking over to them by the door. With a snap of her fingers and a small cloud of smoke, her candles and blood substitute are gone. With another wave of her hand, all the furniture moves back to its place.
"Good enough?" She turned back to the girl, finding her eyes even wider than before (if it was even possible).
"I- I- What- I..." She trailed off.
Clarke sighed again, pushing past the two. "I'll make some tea after I clean up."
Twenty minutes later, Clarke has successfully amazed the girl she found to be unsurprisable.
"Wait, so you can- like...bring back the dead? Like you could have a zombie army if you really wanted to?"
"Hypothetically, yeah. But the longer a person is dead, the more depleted their brain is."
"In other words, the longer they are dead, the stupider they get." Lincoln clarifies with a smirk.
"So you said something about- what was it? Comebacks?"
Clarke managed a small smile, "Drawbacks?"
"Yeah!" Pure excitement radiating off of her, "What are those?"
Clarke looked at Lincoln pleadingly, "Yeah fine..."
He rose and walked over to the kitchen, retrieving a large knife before slicing open his arm.
"Lincoln!" His girlfriend was clearly panicked.
Clarke remained calm, walking over and covering the wound with her hand. After a moment and a flash of light she removed her hand to show the clear skin that had been cut open a moment ago, not even a scar left. The girl's eyes widened again.
"And..." Clarke flipped over her own arm as they watch it open for a few moments before healing, though it did leave her with a scar.
"Holy shit...that's awesome. So if I like, totally wiped out on my bike, you could save me?"
"Yeah, of course." It would hurt like hell and she'd probably be knocked out for a day or two, but she was Lincoln's girl, and Clarke would pretty much do anything for him at this point.
"Neat!" She said with downright fascination. "So, another question, are you immortal?"
"Well, yes and no? So like, if I bring a person back to life I kind of slip into a mini coma and the length of that depends on the death and how severe it was. And, I have had people try to kill me, but I heal pretty much immediately. But I've known other spiritual specialist and they all die from old age."
"Wow..." She had a look that resembled a child at the zoo.
She took a few sips of tea, letting the information sink in before she continued. "Now, granted, their old age is closer to a hundred and fifty, but still..."
Octavia looks at Clarke like she thinks she's the most fascinating thing on the planet. But before any of her questions can escape her phone makes a few noises. She groans, rolling her eyes before checking.
"Gross. Lincoln, we have to go pick him up at the airport." She sighs, throwing back the rest of her tea and rising without any further information.
Just as the three of them reach the door, Clarke reaches out and grabs the girl's arm.
"Um...I don't know if it's self-explanatory, but can you not tell anyone? Like I know it's heard of, but it's not really accepted. Like being gay or-"
"I got it. I won't say anything, but I expect to hear more about this. So that means we're hanging out more, no escape." She doesn't even give Clarke a chance to respond before walking out the door.
The blonde looks to her tall friend for help, "I was going to say you needed more friends anyway."
"You aren't helpful. I'm going to end up blowing up the school or something, you know that right?"
"And I'll be there to help you fight off the mob."
"My hero." She replies flatly before giving him a small smile and shoving him out the door.
She already had Lincoln, Octavia can't be much worse, can she?
The answer is yes. Yes, she can. Well- it's not really her that's the problem. Octavia is fine- great, actually. It's her brother that's the issue. They've made it to October without disaster, but she doesn't know how much longer she can take it.
Clarke has a vague understanding of it. They grew up in the tiny town of nowhere, so they thought they knew everybody. Then she comes to town and messes that up. But- he doesn't seem to just be wary of her, he seems to outright dislike her. For absolutely no reason, either! The most reasonable explanation she could think of is he assumes she's trying to steal Lincoln away from his sister. But she also has strong arguments against why that wouldn't be his reasoning.
A) He seems perfectly fine with Lincoln disappearing from his life.
B) Pretty much anyone who knows the pair knows that isn't going to happen.
So she really can't be blamed for her actions.
He always drops Octavia off now, even though she has her bike and is capable of taking herself. But when he does drop her off, he seems to be snooping too. Like he justknowssomething about her family is wrong. Which- he's not wrong...but he doesn't need to know that.
So it's not entirely her fault that she stuns him onto his ass when she finds him creeping around her backyard. Naturally, her next step is to call Lincoln and of course, Octavia comes with him.
"What the..." She barely seems surprised to see her brother passed out on her friend's floor.
"He was creeping around the backyard, my instinct was to stun him. I called you for two reasons. One: can you take him home?" She pointedly asks Octavia before moving her gaze to Lincoln, "and two: do I...you know...take it."
"Take it?" Octavia has decided she should also be a part of the conversation at hand. "Take what?"
"The memory. Of Clarke's backyard. Of her using magic on him. Of him getting knocked out by a small blonde girl."
Octavia is immediately nodding her head, "Oh, yeah. Take that shit. He'll mope around for weeks with a bruised ego. And I just can't handle that shit."
Clarke kneels at his head, placing her hands on both sides of his skull. Once she puts her focus in, she's already there; no chanting necessary. It's really nice to be working on. However, once she pulls it and hightails it out of his brain she's still left with the drawbacks- which she is not used to. At least not the ones from going into other people's heads. Like suddenly knowing-
"Nathan Miller's birthday is October 9, last week." She blurts out before blinking a lot and shaking her head. "God, I hate that..."
"So...he won't remember anything?"
"No? It'll be like he was drunk, he'll have a fuzzy memory of going somewhere, but he won't really know where or why. And he shouldn't wake up for an hour or two."
"Ok..." She pauses before letting her normal questions out, "Do you know what you look like when you do this shit?" O asks, excited as always. It's kind of nice to have a personal fangirl.
"Uh, no..."
"Like- have you seen Avatar: The Last Air Bender?"
"Pieces?"
"Ok, so like Aang when he goes into the Avatar state. That's what you look like. Like your eyes are either pitch black or bright white when you're doing your stuff, it's super cool. But it's pretty much only black when you meditate." Clarke's made it a habit of having one or both of them with her now when she does her ritual meditation. Seeing as how she hadn't noticed that she'd been in there for well past three hours the last time she did it alone.
"Ok. Cool?"
"Yes, cool." Her ecstatic brunette friend enthuses.
After they successfully get his limp body into the car, the two give her a hug before departing.
As always, she doesn't get great sleep. But this time it has nothing to do with the dead. Nope. This time her dreams are invaded by Bellamy Blake- or... more his memories than thoughts of him. She can see Octavia as a child, a person Clarke presumes is their mother, Bellamy's old apartment with his roommate who she knows to be Nathan Miller, Bellamy's...girlfriend? She's a little lost on that one. The name doesn't come to her, but she can see them kissing and then fighting and then-
She jolts up, not wanting to focus on the image of a naked girl on top of her friend's brother. She looks at the clock to find it's only four-fifty, she rolls her eyes and slams her head back onto her pillow, begging the gods to let her sleep a little longer. That is- before she hears a crash out in her backyard again. She pads down the stairs, flicking her wrist so a beam of light shines out of her palm. She opens the back door to look around and jumps, alarmed to find Bellamy standing on her deck with his back turned to her. She materializes a flashlight before he turns around.
"Bellamy? What the fuck are you doing?"
"I...don't know..."
"You don't know. Alright, well why the fuck are you on my deck?"
"I don't-"
"You don't know that either. Alright, what do you know?"
"I woke up with a craving for Lou's Blueberry, banana pancakes." She is incredibly alarmed. Bellamy has never met her grandmother, so it's pretty disturbing that he knows her favorite breakfast made by the woman.
He still seems pretty dazed. She grabs his shoulders, mumbling niceties and moving him to sit in the recliner in her living room. After he's sat watching the television, she speeds into the kitchen to call Lincoln.
"Hello?" He answers groggily.
"What the fuck is your girlfriend's brother doing in my living room and why does he know my Gramma's name and my favorite breakfast food?"
He takes a long pause, yawning, "I have no answers for you. You got some of his memories as a drawback, maybe he also got some of yours."
His suggestion isn't too far off from what she was guessing herself, but it still isn't good. "Well, what am I supposed to do with him? What if he has memories of me...you know..."
"Changing?" She can hear the smug smile in his voice. Raising her eyebrow, a shock shoots through the phone, stinging his ear.
"Ow. Fine. Doing magic?"
"Yes."
"I don't know. I'd say go back in and take them but he'd probably be left with more."
"You're not being helpful. Seriously, I am home alone with a stranger sitting in my living room staring at the television like a fucking zombie, what am I supposed to do with that?"
"I'll be over in like an hour and a half to pick you up for school anyway, I'll take him too."
"No, no, no. You can't leave me at school by myself."
He groans on the other side of the line. "I'm not getting any more sleep, am I?"
"No."
He just groans again, she can hear some shifting that indicates he's getting up. She also hears some mumbling and groans. "Is Octavia over at your place?"
"Maybe..."
"You're both horrible. Come pick up her monster, I'm already feeling sketchy about today."
"On it. Be there soon." She hangs up, walking back to the living room to find him gone. For a moment she feels slight relief, then panics wondering where he could've gone, then hears a thump from upstairs. She rushes up to find him standing at the end of her bed.
"What're you doing in here? This is-"
"Your room, I know." He turns to her then, "How do I know that?"
She can see the touch of worry in his eyes. He might not be sleep walking, he might just be super confused and concerned for himself.
"C'mon, I'll make pancakes. Your sister's coming for you."
An hour later Lincoln and Octavia walk in to find the two of them eating blueberry, banana pancakes watching Family Feud.
"What's uh...What's going on, guys?" Octavia approaches them with caution, they both turn to her at the same time, scaring the shit out of her.
"Watching Family Feud-" Clarke starts.
"And eating pancakes." Bellamy finishes.
"Clarke..." Lincoln looks concerned.
"Yeah, I'm pretty scared too. I'll ask Lou when she gets back, but that won't be for another week or two. Until then, I have no idea. I'm not sure what he remembers." They all focus their attention on the man in question who has resumed watching and eating.
After another hour of interrogation, they find he's completely normal just in shock.
"Perfect, what do you do now?" Octavia asks.
Clarke has an idea, but it's not a good one. Her friend seems to sense what she's thinking.
"Mmnmm, no. Nope. Not happening. You aren't making him drink that."
"I don't know what else to do, Lincoln. Do you seriously see him? He's practically catatonic."
"Woah! Woah! Woah! What are we talking about?"
Before Clarke can fully explain, Lincoln gives her the cliff notes. "She wants to give him a potion to erase most of his memory."
Octavia turns to her blonde friend with wide, angry eyes. Clarke jumps in before she's murdered.
"Not his memories! Just all his memories that include me."
"After the last hour, we've figured out that's like half of his brain!" She insists.
"Octavia..."
"You don't know he'll say anything! You don't know anything!"
Actually, I know more than I'd like to if I'm being honest.
"You're right. The potion is our last resort. In the meantime, someone needs to look after him and make sure he doesn't do anything to risk...anything." She wanted to specify that he can't do anything to risk hers and her grandma's existence, but that seemed a bit selfish at the moment. "And Lincoln can't do it because I need him with me."
"What? Why?"
"His dumbass memories are fucking with my brain and making my magic sketchy." She pointed towards the living room.
"So don't use magic, it won't kill you to not use it for one day." She was about to slap the brunette when Lincoln stepped in.
"Her magic will come out whether she wants it to or not, that's how this works." The girl raised her eyebrow waiting for a better explanation.
Clarke sighed. "If a memory pops up of him wishing he had...I don't know, a gun, a gun is going to pop into my hand. Which is something I really don't want."
"Why do I have to babysit him?" Octavia whined.
"Because you're his sister and you love him?" She took a stab at it and earned herself a glare, "Fine. Because you're the only other person who knows what you're dealing with."
"What am I dealing with?"
"Making sure he doesn't call or text or tell anyone about me or my grandma."
Octavia straightens, her jaw ticking a couple times. "Oh. So this is about you. There's nothing really wrong with my brother, you just want to save your own skin."
Clarke then takes the time to explain how she's trying to save Bellamy's skin, literally. "I'm not registered with the council. If they find out where I am and what I can do they will quite literally take him and rip him apart trying to find out every bit of information he has on me. Which, as you pointed out, is a lot."
Her friend's face goes pale. "I'll watch him."
"I thought so."
Octavia gets settled on the couch, watching her brother warily while Clarke and Lincoln walk out to his bike.
"Do you think he'll be okay? You have-"
"A lot of fucked up memories, trust me I know. And I honestly don't know. I'm basically a sociopath, I don't know how I would handle my life with regular emotions. So I can't even begin to imagine how he's feeling."
Lincoln nodded, letting her wrap her arms around his waist. As they pulled into the school parking lot, Clarke began to feel sketchy again.
"Pull over- Or park. Just stop." She gritted out.
"Clarke-" He started but she fell off his motorcycle the second it stopped, falling onto her side and curling up as a memory flashed behind her eyes.
Bellamy was walking up the sidewalk towards a tall blonde guy, much taller than himself. The blonde guy- Dax, her mind corrected her- Dax was standing with a smug smile on his face as the two guys in front of him began poking and prodding at some brunette girl. Bellamy went and tapped his shoulder twice.
"What the fuck do you want, Blake?" The smirk fell off his face, replaced by a look of disgust.
"What the fuck are you doing, Dax? Roma hasn't done anything to you."
"Maybe not." The smirk came back, "Maybe that's why she's here." Clarke grimaced at his implication.
"Why don't you back off? This doesn't have to end badly." He was trying to end it peacefully; without anyone getting hurt. Dax took the opposite approach; he punched Bellamy square in the jaw.
Bellamy stumbled back, looking down at his hand he saw blood dripping out of his nose.
"Your choice..." He muttered, stalking back up to the towering guy. His backup, who had abandoned the poor girl, standing on either side of him.
"No, no. It's alright, boys. It's Blake, he can't do shit." Bellamy had the sudden desire for this guy to be choking on his own saliva.
"No!" Clarke screamed, holding her head. She mumbled incantations under her breath.
"Clarke. Clarke, what's happening?" She continued mumbling. Flashes came back behind her eyes, now seeing Dax in the present. Sitting in a prison cell, holding his throat, trying to get his breath back to normal. He obviously had been choking. Clarke blinked back to the parking lot.
Lincoln standing in front of her.
"Clarke-"
"I almost killed someone." She spoke in a monotone as he reached out to help her stand up.
"What? How-"
"Bellamy. Some flashback to when he was in high school. Got in a fight with some guy, wished he would choke on his own saliva."
"Shit...he's..."
"He's fine- well, he's not choking to death. Sitting in a prison cell, but not choking."
"Oh...kay..." He helped her resume her standing position just as her two favorite juniors came bounding up to her.
"Clarke! Oh my God! We thought you died or something!"
"Nope, just...a bit dizzy..." She tried to play it off, rubbing a hand over the scrapes on her right arm, trying to keep them from healing.
"Are you okay?" Monty looked at her arm, concerned.
"Yeah, I'm good. I promise." She reassured him at the sight of disbelief on his face.
"Alright..."
"Hey, are you guys coming to Monty and I's back to school party?" Jasper proceeded as if nothing happened.
"Shouldn't you guys have had that like- before school started?" Lincoln asked, skeptical.
"Nah, that's when everyone has back-to-school parties. We're smart. Have it around the time of Homecoming; draw in all the people who realize the dance is a waste of time and money and it's super lame."
Clarke gives Lincoln a look. She wants to go, he knows she does. Clarke hasn't had a real high school experience, mostly home schooled.
"Maybe. We'll see. When is it?"
"Uh...the night of Homecoming? I thought I said that." Jasper gives them a look.
"Must've misunderstood. We'll see."
"Alright, and obviously bring baby Blake. That is if you can get her out of big Blake's clutches."
Lincoln gives a deep chuckle. "We'll try."
They proceed in the building, separating to enter the locker rooms.
Clarke always changes in the shower stalls; trying to avoid questions about the markings on her back.
They were ritualistic markings that were burned into her skin the first time, and one more for every other time, she'd crossed into the afterlife. They looked like tattoos, but most people had questions.
"Why'd you get this?" One of her old friends had asked.
"Uh...I thought it looked cool."
"How'd you get it? Aren't you fifteen?"
"Oh, uh, my Gramma is pretty chill."
"I don't much like them. I think they're creepy. Especially this one." Her other friend had poked against one of the newer burns, making her wince. It was Death's face, burned right above her seventh cervical vertebrae
It was pretty hard to keep them covered, especially in the warmer seasons.
It would get easier in a week when she turned eighteen. But she was also scared. Some Enchantress' specialties changed on their eighteenth birthday, other's power amplified, other's disappeared, and other's went berzerk.
Her mother was in Taiwan on some medical business that Clarke didn't care about, but she wouldn't be back until right before Thanksgiving. Louise was in Alaska meeting with some botanist about a rare snow flower that was a possible cure for pixie-pox, she should be back by the twenty-third, the day before Clarke's birthday, but she also made no promises.
Lincoln promised to stay in with her, to make sure she was safe. She-
Her thoughts were completely interrupted by the most annoying guy in her class.
"Hey, Clarke. What's up?" Finn Collins. He reeked of bad energy.
"Nothing, Finn. As always." She began to walk towards where Lincoln was standing; by the bleachers waiting for her. But Finn grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.
"Never noticed this before. It's cool, what is it?" He traced his index finger over the symbol etched in her right inner forearm.
"Nothing, just a family thing."
"Oh, cool. Did it hurt?"
Yes. It was excruciating. Her grandmother had to carve into her skin with a ritualistic blade after it had been left in a fire. That was how she spent her thirteenth birthday. Getting a carving so no other enchanter could detect her magic.
It was another reason she was scared. If her powers amplified on her eighteenth, the symbol would do no good. She was already one of the strongest spiritual specialist, if not one of the strongest enchanters, in over one-hundred years. The symbol was supposed to protect her from any detection at all, but the best it did was a ten-mile radius. If her power amplified, the ten-mile radius would be eliminated and the council would be on her like white on rice.
"No, just a little pinch. Like any other tattoo." She lied, ripping her arm from his grip and walking over to Lincoln. "I hate him."
"I know, but you can't-"
"I'm not going to. I still hate him. There's something dark in him. I can feel it in his energy."
"What? You think he's a part of the council? Or related to someone from it?"
"I don't know. If he was he'd be able to tell what I was."
"Yeah, I suppose." Just as he was about to continue speaking, Ms. Byrne came out, yelling at them to run four laps around the track. "Octavia is a lucky brat. She gets to miss the mile run."
Clarke gave a small giggle. "Yeah, because running the mile is such a hardship for you. You do this like every morning for fun."
"Still, I run around a lake. Not a dirt track with a bunch of whiney teenagers." She let out another giggle as they made their way up to the start line.
Gym ended and Clarke made her way to Algebra 2 greeted by the unpleasantness of Finn Collins, yet again.
"Hey," He always greeted her with a smile.
She rolled her eyes, taking her assigned seat next to him. They made it through three-quarters of the class without speaking.
"Look, Princess," She felt the overt need to punch him square in the jaw, but held back, "I don't want to be a dick here-"
"Then stop talking."
"I'm just trying to help. I thought Lincoln was a good guy-" She clenches her fist under her thighs, trying her hardest to not knock him out in the middle of class, "-but I guess not. You're new so you might not know, but...He has a girlfriend."
Really. That's what he wanted to tell her? Finn had a girlfriend when he tried to hit on Clarke the first week of school.
"I'm aware. Octavia is one of my best friends. Lincoln is a great person. Don't say he's not." There was still fifteen minutes of class left, but she just gathered her things and walked out the door.
History and Biology went by quick enough, then it was time for lunch. She sat down, pulling out her saran wrapped sandwich while she waited for Lincoln. Finn, of course, took the empty seat next to her. She heavy sighed, dropping her sandwich and holding her face in her hands.
"What. What do you want Finn?"
"What? I can't sit and eat with you?"
"No. No, you cannot. Lincoln is sitting where you are. And in case you haven't gotten the message yet, we are not friends. We are not going to be friends. I am not interested in spending any time with you."
He stared for a minute before letting a smile creep up on his face, "I'll wear you down, Clarke Griffin. Just you wait."
He left, minutes before Lincoln came over.
"You good?"
"Are you sure people would miss him? I feel like I could kill him and everyone would be fine with it."
"Collins bothering you again?"
"He keeps-" They are interrupted by the cafe doors slamming open revealing Bellamy followed by a panicked Octavia.
They both make their way over to Clarke.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know where he was going. I didn't know he would come here. He was freaking out and screaming about Collins. I don't know a Collin, who's that?" Octavia hissed apologetically towards Clarke as Bellamy looked her over.
"You good, Princess?" She felt weirdly at ease when he said it. Especially now that he was saying it gently, like a pet name, instead of filled with venom.
Clarke grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the exit. Lincoln and Octavia followed naturally.
"We are all going back to my house. I don't know what's happening, but I don't like it."
Bellamy climbed in the passenger seat of his own beat up Toyota while Octavia drove it off the lot. Clarke and Lincoln rushed to get his bike started and pulling out before a school official could come over and stop them.
They got to Clarke's house. The first thing she did was snap at Bellamy who was sat on the couch, he fell over, eyes closed. Octavia let out a small scream.
"Relax, he's just asleep." She yanked out her laptop and hooked it up to the flatscreen, pulling up Skype and ringing Lou.
"Clarke, what a- Is that a dead person on my couch?"
"Yup, lovely to hear from you too, G-mama. No. He's not dead. You remember Bellamy, Octavia's brother?"
"What'd you do?"
"How do you know it was me?! Maybe Lincoln did something!"
"Yeah, because Lincoln would definitely kill his girlfriend's brother. Really?"
"Shut up." Clarke turned to the side, pouting.
"Clarke tried to remove his memories of her using magic to stun him. She got some of his memories in return and he got more of hers. He ended up dazed in your backyard and now we aren't sure what's happening." Lincoln spit out quickly, earning him a quick shock to the ear and hard glare from Clarke. "Ow..."
"Clarke...You did what?"
"Uh uh. I did exactly what you taught me to do, there is no way I messed it up."
Her grandmother cursed in Latin, "Clarke, you're stuck with that boy for life now."
"Excuse me?"
"I knew it the moment I met that young girl right there." She pointed her finger in Octavia's direction.
"Who? Me?"
"Yes. You have a certain energy about you. So does your brother. Clarke, you're of Cor unum et unum animum."
The blonde threw herself to the ground, groaning.
"What? What does that mean? What'd she say, Clarke?"
Clarke picked herself up off the ground, ignoring Octavia for the moment.
"And there's no way to fix it?"
"Nope. Sorry, kiddo. Looks like you got another partner."
Clarke groaned again, "Alright. Love you G-mama. See you when you get back."
"Love you too, Mea, dulcis puellae." Clarke shut the lid and groaned once more.
"Clarke. Speak. I don't understand-... whatever language that was..."
"Latin. Mea, dulcis puellae means 'my sweet girl' and Cor unum et unum animum means 'one heart and one mind'. Basically, Bellamy and I are one person. And it's gonna be super fucking annoying."
"How annoying?" The girl seemed skeptical.
Clarke opened her mouth to answer but got interrupted by another flashback. She watched for a minute before shaking her head and blinking out of it.
"Very fucking annoying..." She was breathing heavy.
"What was that? What just happened?"
"She got assaulted by one of your brother's memories."
"Which one?"
Clarke hesitated, "You don't want to know..."
"Oh, just tell me."
"The first time he had sex..." Octavia fell off the couch trying to laugh and fake gag at the same time.
It was enough to wake him up. "Clarke?"
They all looked at him but his soft gaze was trained on her.
"We're gonna have to talk about all the shit going on in your head, aren't we?" He nodded slowly.
"Fine. But I'm doing my meditation first."
She knocked him out again, leaving him passed out on the guest bed with Lincoln while Octavia watched over her as she walked among the dead.
But as soon as she got there, Bellamy was also there. Panicking. Running around like a chicken with its head cut off. She rushed over, grabbing at him. She could actually touch him, it was new.
"Where the fuck are we?" He was raising his voice, she tried to shush him.
"Quiet!" She hissed, "I'm pretty sure you don't want to die. We're in...I don't know what you'd call it...purgatory?"
"We're-!" He started loud so she slammed a hand over his mouth.
"Shut. Up. Look, you're new to this, but I'm assuming you have my memories. Can you remember the first time I came in here? The way I panicked?"
He did. He closed his eyes, the memory of her running in between and through people, yelling. He also remembers a lovely, beautiful woman with gray skin and long black hair approaching her.
"You look lost young one."
"I don't know where I am..." Clarke was breathing heavily.
"It's ok, no one does. Do you want to come with me? I promise it'll get better."
Clarke seemed a bit skeptical of the woman. As soon as she stuck her hand out he knew why. The woman's hand was bone. Clarke couldn't breathe.
"You're death..."
The woman gave a sympathetic smile.
"It's ok. It happens to everyone. Death isn't something to fear, I promise. All you have to do is take my hand. Everything will get better."
Clarke shook her head, sinking to her knees.
"No, no, no. This can't be happening. I'm not dead. I'm not dead. I'm not dead." She chanted it repeatedly until she was shaken awake by her grandmother.
"See? You remember. Don't yell, don't attract attention."
"Why are you here? What's the point?" Their conversation is interrupted by a small child, she can't be older than five.
"Excuse me, do you know where my mommy and daddy are?" Clarke kneels down to her level, placing her hands on either side of the girls head.
The blonde can see hospital rooms. The girl's parents; white wrapping around their heads, tubes down their throats. She goes back, sees the car crash. She gasps back to the girl.
"They'll be around soon, why don't you stay with..." She closes her eyes again, forming a small dolphin with a top hat that swims around the small girl's head. "With Mr. Flippy. Does that sound good?"
The girl is laughing, trying to grab the dolphin. Clarke stands, no longer able to be seen.
"That's why. People get scared when they die, Bellamy."
"And you aren't scared you're going to die?"
"Not really."
"Why?"
"I'll explain later. We have a job right now."
"We?"
"You are me and I am you. Just- go find people who are scared, comfort them. Give them what they need, give them what they want." She wanders off, finding a few others. She does it for a while, watching Bellamy talk to a few others.
The realm is cracked by pain. Octavia had dripped some candle wax on her knee to try and wake her up.
"Bellamy, we gotta go."
"Why?"
"We've been in too long. We'll come back, promise." He bids the old lady he was talking to a goodbye and walks over to Clarke.
Their world shakes before turning white, blinking back to reality a moment later.
Clarke gets up, Octavia practically paying her no attention, and goes to the kitchen. Grabbing the baby wipes and wiping the sticky substitution off her skin.
Bellamy comes down the stairs and into the kitchen. Clarke doesn't notice him, too busy staring out the small window and wiping off her skin. He stares at her bare back, save her bra straps, and all the marks it holds. He obviously remembers how she got them and how painful they were.
He stands back, watching her grip the counter. A new mark forms on the small of her back; two generic human forms holding hands with a large skull in their background. He can see her muscles tighten and release with pain as it burns through her skin.
"Are you okay?" She spins quickly, not knowing he was behind her.
"Y- yeah. I'm fine. I'm used to it by now." She lies. Clarke doesn't really know why; he already knows she's in pain. It feels pretty useless to lie at this point, but she does it anyway.
"Alright..." He rolls with it anyways.
Lincoln comes in, noting the tension.
"Anyone for food?"
"Yes. I'm starving." They say in unison again.
"Never going to get used to that..." He mutters, "Octavia, come on, we're getting food."
"Neat!" She walks in the kitchen, throwing Clarke's tee shirt at her. "Put on a shirt."
They all end up at the same diner Clarke and Lincoln first went to, trying to ignore the awkwardness and tension.
After they finish their food, Clarke and Bellamy go back to hers and Lincoln says he'll take Octavia home.
Clarke tries to hold in a smile, thinking her friend is actually just going to take his girlfriend back to his. Unfortunately, Bellamy can now hear all her thoughts, causing an eruption. She ends up having to stun him on his ass again.
"This has already gotten really old really fast." He says, rubbing his head once he wakes up an hour later on her couch.
"Yeah, well, stop being an asshole and I'll stop hitting you."
He huffs, crossing his arms and pouting like a child. She can feel his bruised ego and rolls her eyes.
"Why am I here, anyway? Shouldn't I be at home?"
"No, I don't know what the fuck happened so you know even less. You're staying here until I get a full understanding of it."
"I understand everything you do now..." He grumbles to himself.
Hours later, after Bellamy has fallen asleep in the spare room, Clarke remakes her pentagram. Different symbols, same idea.
She chants until her vision goes white. Her chants continue until the room is full. It's a library. Looking up, the sky is still white but everywhere else is wooden bookshelves.
"Clarke, it's been a while." She turns, finding her old friend.
"Callie. It has."
"You've grown. How old are you now? Sixteen?" Time passed differently in the spirit library; a single year, in reality, is closer to ten in this realm.
"Seventeen. Eighteen next week, though."
"Good gods, I haven't seen you since you were twelve. Such a little munchkin."
"Yeah, yeah." Callie was immortal, sworn to the library and all its secrets. "Look, I need help."
"Yeah? With what?"
"Cor unum et unum animum"
"Ooh..." She gave a sympathetic look that was starting to piss Clarke off. "There are some books in the crypt, but they haven't been used in...well, in centuries."
"Terrific." Clarke huffed.
"Not my fault you were born like this."
"Yeah, yeah. Just open the crypt for me, will you?"
Callie rolled her eyes, a door appearing on the ground in front of the two of them.
"Watch what you open, the council still comes in every once in a while."
"Got it."
She walked down the long flight of stairs, landing a dark room lit with only candles. "God damn Immortal's and their ancient ways..." She muttered to herself, summoning all the books that held information on the topic she needed.
"Four books. That's all I get. This one- Nope!" She immediately pushed back the journal on sex for those who were Cor unum et unum animum. "Three books. I get three books and a Kama Sutra for connected souls, super unhelpful."
She read all the books, finding absolutely nothing helpful. She found one written by an immortal soul who took over several bodies, connecting with several minds; feeling the pain they felt, feeling their deaths, falling in love with many of them. Another one was a researcher who studied several connected minds and how they affected the magic user; it was slightly more helpful than the others but not by much. The last one was a book of random things only having a chapter on the subject, and that was mostly just defining what it was.
She closed the book and slammed her head on the table. Checking the time, an hour and a half had passed; closer to five minutes in reality. She looked over at the shelf where she'd shoved the other book. Clarke considered it, just for the purpose of knowing and having something to do.
"Clarke?" She snapped out of her thoughts by Callie appearing in front of her.
"Callie, you scared me."
"Sorry, you find anything helpful?"
"Uh, not really."
Callie closed her eyes, "There are at least two more books you haven't read."
"Two? I know about the one, but-" The three she'd read levitated away and were replaced by the sex journal and another ancient looking book.
The blonde girl opened the large book and found blank pages. "Thanks, Callie. I really love reading an empty book."
"You must be ready to see it, to be able to read it."
"You know, I really hate magic sometimes. Times like this."
"You have lingering fear inside of you, it is what holds the information back."
"You seem to know so much, what exactly am I afraid of?"
"You'll know when you want to."
"You...are a pain." She grabbed the two books. "I'm taking these."
"Look within yourself, Clarke. You'll know when you break your final wall."
"Your riddles hurt me. You know what I'm afraid of don't you?" The woman nodded. "You just can't say it?" She nodded again. "Magic: pain in my ass."
She came to, holding the two books in her hands.
How the fuck am I supposed to read this one without him knowing? That'd just be awkward. She thought, holding up the journal. And what the fuck am I afraid of?
She didn't know. But she decided to push it off, not needing to know at the moment.
She went upstairs to find Bellamy sleeping in her bed without a shirt on. It was truly unfair how attractive he was, she knew that before but he was a dick before so it never mattered. Now he was being nice and sympathetic and she didn't know how to feel about that. But Clarke was exhausted and decided to not care. She got into her PJs and climbed in next to him, facing the opposite way of course.
How bad would it be; sharing a mind and a soul with this guy? His sister is great, he can't be much worse, just more protective.