Clarke tried to figure out where she was. A cafeteria? It sure sounded like a busy restaurant. Oh, she hoped it was Mecha so she could get some of their mac 'n cheese and coconut pie with the mile-high meringue. People scurried all around clinging things and chattering. She didn't recognize any of the voices, and the light was so bright it burned right through her eyelids.

If this wasn't a place to eat, she needed to find the booth with the candy again. Clarke tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. A woman's voice came from far away saying something about sutures and needle gauges. Strange. If she could just open her eyes, she'd know where she was, but as hard as she tried, they wouldn't work. Nothing would. No feeling in her legs, and her arms were stiff.

A man nearby spoke. She felt his breath on her cheek. She tried to process what he said, but the words jumbled. She caught something about taking a nap. Good idea. She was tired and could use a short siesta, but she really wanted to eat first. Unfortunately, food would have to wait because fatigue overtook her, and she drifted away.

Even in her sleepy haze, sounds assaulted her ears. Somewhere, classical music played. She recognized the tune, but couldn't think of its title. Oh, well, once she woke and ate it would come to her. She just needed rest, but this bed was so hard her back hurt. And her head. Damn, couldn't one of the people darting around and making noise stop to bring her a pillow? They sounded more interested in discussing their plans for Saturday night. Two female voices scheduled a meeting at someplace called The Bunker. Funny. The thought made Clarke laugh.

Now some dude complained about having to work tomorrow night, and how that put a kink in his plans.

Which reminded Clarke, what day was it?

"Marcus, bring one of those blankets, she's shivering."

The voice sounded suspiciously like…

Mom? Clarke tried to say, but again, her mouth was so dry her lips were stuck together. This was a miserable place. She was cold, tired, and hungry and nobody seemed to care. Add to that her inability to speak or move, it was like she'd fallen into some horror movie.

"Here you go, sweetie. This should warm you up," Abby said.

Warmth settled over Clarke. Finally, things were looking up. Now if she could just get some food, find out where she was, remember the name of that sonata, and get these bozos to laugh, she'd be fine.

Bellamy pushed open the door and inhaled the aroma of chicken wings and beer. All the bar stools were occupied, mostly by locals relaxing after work. He scanned the room and spied Miller and Riley, another old high school buddy, at a corner table. Good choice. This way they'd attract little attention. By now, news of the accident and rescue was all over town

As he stepped deeper into the room, the crowd erupted into hoots and hollers. The pair rose, lifted their bottles, and Riley shouted, "There's the other man of the hour!"

Great. So much for no celebratory displays. "Come on, guys. Knock it off."

Riley slapped him on the back. "No way, man. I think it's time we give you a superhero name."

"Forget the title, just buy me a beer."

"Will do." Riley signaled the barkeep to send another round, then turned back to Bellamy. "Miller says the girl wasn't local."

As soon as Riley graduated college, he'd boarded the gravy train and took over his dad's insurance business. "Yeah, but she wasn't far from your neighborhood. Any of you richies have a visitor?"

Riley held his drink in midair, cocked his little finger, and spoke with a British accent. "Certainly not. Had she been visiting our estates, she would have been in a limo."

"If you saw her, you might wish you did know her," Miller said. "She's kind of cute, if you're into girls."

"Well, maybe I should do my civic duty as a Chamber of Commerce member and drop by the hospital for a visit."

Bellamy's chest tightened at the thought of his friend seeing the girl, and that startled him. Why should he care? She meant nothing to him, but the sensation almost felt like jealousy, and that was crazy. That was for teenagers who weren't mature enough to understand it was a wasted emotion. It didn't prove anything except a person's insecurity, and if there was one thing Bellamy had always been sure about, it was who he was and what he stood for.

Miller was way off. The girl wasn't cute. She was beautiful. Small, but not too thin. Fine-boned with a flawless complexion except for the small mole above her lip. Funny how Bellamy noticed that considering the amount of blood on her face. Okay. The verdict was in. He was horny as hell. That had to be it.

Not that he couldn't take care of that situation on any given night. There were plenty of women who'd be more than happy to help end his self-imposed celibacy. But they all wanted more than he could give, and he didn't feel right about using them just for gratification. Maybe that strong moral code came from having basically raised Octavia when money was scarce and Aurora was taking night classes to become a nurse at an assisted living facility. Or maybe from the example his father had set in how he treated Bellamy's mother. Whatever it was, Bellamy didn't have meaningless sex, not anymore.

That's the reason he didn't want Riley going to the hospital to see the girl. His friend was a semi-decent guy, but something about it irked him. It wasn't Bellamy's concern, but somehow, he felt responsible for the injured woman. For all he knew, she was married even though he hadn't seen a ring. Yeah, right along with noticing the birthmark, he'd checked for that, too.

He shook his head. He was seriously warped. Miller might be right. It was time he got serious about dating again. Arkadia wasn't exactly a mecca for singles. Too bad he'd not thought about Monty before Miller had asked him out.

Hell, what was Bellamy thinking? Later, he'd just jerk off, and he'd be good to go. Winter was right around the corner and soon out of state opportunities would open up, and once they did, he wouldn't have time to worry about his love life. Or lack thereof.

For the next three hours, he dealt with patrons wanting to buy him drinks, but instead of accepting, he requested they donate the cash to the local food bank. Then at midnight, Bellamy headed home.

After a restless night, he woke early wanting to visit the hospital before Arkadia citizens got out and about. He could see the girl, make sure she was okay and then get her off his mind. Maybe he'd make his mom happy and unpack a box or two. Where she got the idea he had decorating items, he didn't know. While living in the small apartment before buying the three-bedroom bungalow, he'd not hung a single picture, and the foo-foo nonsense Mom spoke of consisted of a few of Octavia's castoffs she'd donated to his minimalist style.

However, with cold weather ahead, it'd be nice to have a rug in the living room. He loved the original pine floors but walking on them barefoot in freezing weather proved uncomfortable. And he had plenty of space to walk since he didn't have a sofa. Just three chairs spaced around the room and a loaded bookcase teetering on collapse.

Today he'd planned to start replacing the backyard chain link with a privacy fence. Even though he lived in the country, the main county road ran right past his house. It'd be nice to sit on the back porch without being in plain view. Not that he was hiding anything, but if he wanted to stroll outside in his boxers, he'd like to be able to do that without being seen.

No. He wasn't in the mood for fence building. After visiting the girl, he'd drive to Polis and shop for a rug. Maybe O would go with him. Female advice couldn't hurt. Decision made, he grabbed his truck keys.

It only took fifteen minutes to get to the hospital and just as he thought, the parking lot was almost empty. The most action in Arkadia on a Saturday morning was parents getting their kids to the soccer field. Today the championship tournament started. Unfortunately, Octavia's team didn't make the playoffs. Finishing in last place, the Arkers definitely needed help. Perhaps next year, he'd volunteer to coach.

As he entered the building, his sister's source of gossip, Monroe, waved to him from the flower kiosk. Bellamy removed his wallet. A small bouquet might cheer the patient he was about to see.

"Hey, Monroe."

"Hey, yourself, Hero. I suppose you're here to see your latest rescue?"

"Yes," he grinned sheepishly. "How about that vase of pink roses? Think those might make her feel better?"

Monroe shook her head. "No need to waste your money. She's in a coma."

Bellamy's lungs burned as he tried to get a breath. The girl couldn't be in a coma.

"But she was conscious when I got her out of the car."

Monroe clicked her teeth. "Maybe so. But by the time she got here, she was down for the count."

Heart pounding in his ears, Bellamy shook his head. "But she was coherent. I don't understand."

Monroe shrugged and pinched dead leaves from a potted plant, stuffing them in her pocket as she talked. "Don't know the particulars. But they found a gas card in her jeans. That gave them her name. Anyway, her family arrived two hours ago. Her mom's in here with her."

"What about her dad?"

"I used my best investigative skills to get all the info I could. Dad died of cancer when the girl was barely thirteen. The mom's a doctor at Emory University Hospital in Atlanta, and that bearded one is her godfather. Owns one them big firms. Kane, Jaha, and Wallace."

"They say why she was in Arkadia?"

"That's another odd thing. They didn't know where she was until the sheriff contacted them about the accident. Well, they knew she'd left town but had no idea she was here."

The elevator dinged and got Monroe's attention. Dr. Nyko strolled toward them.

"Morning, Monroe." He slapped Bellamy on the back. "Good job with the rescue."

"Yeah, about that. Is she going to be okay?"

"Since my field is not neurology, I called in Dr. Titus from Polis. All I can tell you is she's stable. My best guess, barring a complication, she'll recover."

"But she's in a coma?" He just had to hear she'd be okay.

"The impact of a car accident causes the brain to bounce and bang around inside the skull. That force is bound to do some damage. When that happens, it needs time to recuperate."

A dozen thoughts ricocheted through his head, bouncing off his skull like quarters. "So, the bruises in her brain need to heal. And once they do, she should be back to normal. Right?" She had to come out of it, she just had to.

"Remember, I'm talking head trauma in general. I can tell you, it's difficult to determine an early prognosis. From previous cases, we've learned that many times an unconscious patient has more consciousness than believed."

"Damn it! Is she going to be a vegetable or not?"

The doctor cut him a look. Bellamy always reacted first, consequences later. But Nyko had never seen this sort of reaction from him - not since Octavia broke her arm a decade ago. "Calm down. I've already said her condition is stable."

Monroe clicked her teeth again. Bellamy figured on purpose to get attention.

She pinned him with her gaze. "Sounds like you have an interest in the girl. All I can say is it's about time."

He crossed his arms over his chest, defensive. "Are you through?"

Monroe gave a half shrug. "I'm just saying. It's time you got a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Which would be a wise choice before Tsing cleans out her bank account for another go at you."

The MD laughed, then got serious. "You're here, so might as well visit the patient. Her family wants to meet you. Miller, too."

"I don't think so."

"Look, consciousness kind of boils down to two things: being awake/aroused and being aware. You told the EMT you had a short conversation with Miss Griffin. Since your voice was the last she heard while conscious, you might impact her waking up."

"You think?"

"Possibly. Imagine the brain stem as having an elevator in a tall building. Pulses of activity generate on the bottom floor. Stimulate those, and maybe they'll reach the penthouse. Come on."

"See you later, Monroe," Bellamy said.

"Sure. I'll keep you posted."

Bellamy followed Nyko as he led the way to Clarke's room and found it empty except for a nurse.

She looked up, smiled, and passed a chart to the doctor. "I'm finished. Her family can come back in when they're ready."

Nyko flipped pages scanning each one, then handed it back to her. "I didn't see them in the waiting area. I assume they've gone for coffee."

"Yes, they did." She turned her attention to Bellamy. "It's a real blessing you came along when you did."

"Guess so."

Nyko jerked his head toward the heart monitor. It beeped faster.

Bellamy glanced at Clarke. Her eyes rolled beneath her lids. "Is something wrong? She's so pale. And it looks like she's dreaming.

Nyko motioned for Bellamy to come closer. "Hold her hand and speak to her."

He didn't know what good that would do but didn't argue. He slid her fingers into his palm, then stroked her knuckles with his thumb. "Hey, Clarke. Remember me? If you wake up, we can finish our conversation. Didn't have time last night before things got a little crazy."

Her eyes popped open for a split second, then closed again. Bellamy gasped and turned to the doctor. "Did you see that?"

Before he answered, a voice from the doorway interrupted. "See what?"

"Everybody step out a minute," Nyko said.

The nurse took Bellamy by the arm and ushered him to the door where she looped her other arm in the stranger's and guided them both into the hallway.

"Something wrong with Clarke?" The gentleman asked.

"No. Everything is fine. Dr. Nyko wants to check her vitals. Mr. Kane, this is Bellamy Blake. The man who saved your goddaughter."

The guy grabbed Bellamy into a bear hug. "There's no way I'll ever be able to repay you."

Bellamy wanted to pull away but decided to let the guy get it out of his system. No need to be rude. "It's okay. I'm just glad I came along."

Mr. Kane let go, then turned to the three onlookers. Then he faced Bellamy again and pointed to each man. "This is Clarke's cousin, Lincoln, and these two are Thelonious and Wells Jaha, friends of the family."

As they exchanged handshakes, Nyko joined them. "There's been a development. It seems she responded to Bellamy's voice."

Bellamy pulled his brows together. He figured the eye-popping thing might have been a common occurrence among coma patients, but apparently not. "I don't understand."

"Her heart rate increased when you spoke, and she opened her eyes for a second. That hasn't happened with anyone else."

Mr. Kane stepped forward. "That's good, right? She's coming out of it."

Nyko nodded. "Possibly. Emotional responses are a good indicator of emerging consciousness, but I don't want to get your hopes up. It isn't like in the movies. Usually, patients don't wake suddenly. You may witness smiling, crying, verbal sounds, rapid eye movement, and yes, even her opening her eyes for a few seconds. But she could still have a long way to go before she wakes permanently."

The doctor focused on the family, then Bellamy, then back to them. "For some reason, she connects with him. Could be because he's the last person she saw before losing consciousness. All I know is she responds to his voice. Which is a good sign. A very good sign."

Kane placed his hand on Bellamy's shoulder. "If that's the case, you need to spend time with her. You could be the key to bringing her out this."

Bellamy's mind raced and the memory of his father's last year of life flashed in vivid detail. He had only been a kid, really, but the effervescent memories imprinted in his brain. Maybe Clarke Griffin wasn't dying like his Octavia's dad had been, but still, the burden of waiting had taken its toll. He never wished to go through that again. Yet, a part of him wanted to.

"Sir, I …"

"No!" He threw his hands in the air. "I won't take no for an answer. Abby's already lost her husband. I won't let Abby lose her little girl. I will not lose Clarke. Name your price."

Bellamy's stomach clenched. There was nothing worse than seeing a desperate man cry. He glanced at the others. Their expressions full of expectations. Wells stepped closer.

"Please, man. All we're asking is that you visit her. Whenever you can."

"I understand. Really, I do. But it could be a coincidence. Like the rescue. Right time. Right place. That might have happened if I'd been in the room or not."

"One way to find out," Wells said. "Let's go back in there, and we'll each take a turn talking to her. If you're the only one who gets a reaction, then promise me you'll help us. At least for a few days."

What Bellamy would give for a double shot of antacid right about then but he didn't see a way out of this except to agree and hope for the best. That it had been a fluke. A random bodily function that had nothing to do with him. He took a deep breath.

"Fair enough."

When the mother, Abby – Kane had called her, returned to Clarke's bedside, Bellamy stood in the corner and tried to calm his nerves, especially when Clarke's mom was eyeing him. He hadn't seen that look since Mr. Bragg sat on his lazy boy, cleaning his guns when Bellamy picked Roma up for Prom.

"Abby, this is Bellamy, one of the-"

"I know who he is," Abby interrupted, sticking her hand out to shake. Swallowing, he wiped his clammy hand on his jeans before grasping her hand.

"Thank you for helping Clarke. I don't know what I'd do if…" her voice broke and tears sprung to her eyes. "Thank you," she reiterated before excusing herself to the ladies room, Marcus at her heels. He wondered idly if there was something there.

Silence reigned supreme for heady moment, no one quite sure how to break the tension.

Lincoln stepped up to Clarke's bedside. One after the other begged her to speak. Smile. Any indication she heard them. They got nothing.

When Wells finished his plea with no results, he stepped back for Bellamy to pass.

Moving to the side of the bed, he lifted her hand. "Hey, it's me again. Today, I found out your name is Clarke. I'm Bellamy."

She grinned, and the monitor picked up its pace again.

Shit. What had he gotten himself into?

Octavia saw Bellamy when he got off the elevator. Wanting to avoid him, she ducked into the ladies room. No need to give him the chance to get all up in her business. Not that she had any to get in. She didn't. Which was pretty lame. But Bellamy found something wrong with every guy she liked. Thanks to him, all the boys in town were afraid to ask her out. He just didn't want to admit she wasn't a little girl anymore. He kept saying how he couldn't believe she was about to graduate high school. Well, she was. Old enough to make her own decisions concerning men.

That's what she wanted. A man. Someone mature enough not to pull stupid pranks and think the most important thing in the world was a pickup truck. Besides, if big bro didn't approve of her classmates, then she needed to broaden her horizons and she would as soon as she got to college. Bellamy wanted her to attend Polis' Junior College. Good old PJC. Home of the Warriors. Yeah, he wanted her close so he could still run her life. But that wasn't happening.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror and ran her hands through her hair. Maybe she should cut it. Get some highlights or better yet, dye it pink and spike it. No. That might put her mother into an early grave. She'd have to wait until she got to Tuscaloosa for that.

Already accepted at the University of Alabama, she'd be far enough away, Bellamy couldn't breathe down her neck. Plan her life. Pick her boyfriends. Give her unwanted advice.

She needed out of this hick town, and once she left, she never planned to come back. Well, she'd visit because her family lived here. Even as bossy as her brother was, he was always there for her, and she couldn't go very long without seeing him and Mom.

Octavia palmed her phone and checked the time. It had been at least ten minutes. He had to be gone by now. Dropping her cell back into her pocket, she pushed open the door. Damn.

Bellamy leaned against the reception counter, arms folded over his broad chest. "I thought that was you ducking into the bathroom. Not avoiding me, are you?"

She gave him her best innocent look. The one he never believed. "Why would I?"

"Yeah. Right. What are you doing here?"

"Picking up an application. Nyko said this would be a good place for me to get a summer job. I think he has an ulterior motive. Hopes I'll go into nursing like Anya."

"You should consider it. It worked out pretty well for her."

Before she could stop herself, she rolled her eyes. "You mean because she married Nyko? I don't need to land a doctor. I plan to make my own way."

"Good for you."

"That's it? No lecture about getting married, settling down, and having a family?"

Bellamy reached out and pulled her into a hug. "All I want is for you to be happy."

She hated when he got all mushy, but she hugged him back. Being in his arms made her feel safe.

Bellamy squeezed her tighter, pressed his lips to her head, patted her back, then released her. "You want me to wait on you? We can go to The Dripship, and I'll buy you one of those fancy ten-name lattes."

"No, that's okay. What are you doing here? Somebody you know sick?"

"The girl from the accident. Came to check on her."

"Oh, how is she?"

"In a coma, but stable. Nyko thinks she'll be all right. It's just going to take time. Hey, you want to ride over to Polis with me?"

"No. I promised Mom I'd help her bake."

The elevator dinged again, and a group of men strolled out. Bellamy spoke to them. "You guys headed back home?"

The bearded man answered, flecks of grey shining silver in the hospital light. "No. Going to check into the motel."

Octavia eyed the tatted one, and he returned her gaze. Heat started at her throat and spread up to her cheeks. She took her bottom lip between her teeth and glanced at Bellamy who appeared to already want to eviscerate him.

Hot guy stuck out his hand. "Hey, I'm Lincoln."

Octavia slipped her palm into his, but before she could say anything, Bellamy butted in.

"This is my little sister. She's in high school."

Octavia thinned her lips and shot Bellamy her patented killer gaze. He was still getting into her business. She needed to break him of that habit.

He ignored her disapproval and nodded toward the threesome. "They're here for the girl from the accident. They live in Atlanta."

"Nice to meet you and I do have a name. It's Octavia." She cut her eyes back at her brother just to make sure he knew she didn't appreciate the way he'd introduced her. "I better run. I have to pick up an application, because regardless of what my brother thinks, as an almost college student I'm old enough to have a job."

She sashayed away. When she got to the elevators, she glanced back to find Lincoln starring. Her heart kicked up a notch.

Lincoln had no idea what he was doing. One minute he was on his way to the hospital parking lot, the next, telling the others to go to the motel without him. Bellamy's disapproving expression hadn't gone unnoticed, so why was Lincoln hanging around hoping to see Octavia again?

She was a teenager for God's sake. But when she locked eyes with him, his chest constricted. A girl hadn't affected him like that since junior high when hormones ruled his brain. Now he was a grown ass man with plenty of self-control. But damn if he hadn't almost lost it when her cheeks flushed a rosy pink.

The elevator doors opened, and his heart leaped into his throat. A senior citizen got off, and Lincoln took a deep breath. This was nuts. He'd officially lost his mind. Forget her brother, even his family wouldn't be on board with him dating someone that much younger. Everyone would think he was only interested in one thing. Then she caught that plump bottom lip between her teeth and blood pooled in his groin.

There had been a connection, and unless he'd misread the situation, she had felt it, too.

"What are you still doing here?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts, he'd not heard her approach.

"Look. I know you're going to think I'm insane, but before, I think something happened between us. Am I wrong?"

She pressed her hand to her throat. "Wow. You get right to the point. Are you always so straight-forward?"

"Not always." Fuck. "I'm not coming on to you. That wasn't a pickup line. I just—I mean—"

She smiled, lowered her gaze, then focused those big green eyes on him again. "I know what you mean. I'm not used to guys being so straightforward. Actually, I've not had enough pickup lines to know when I'm getting one, so I'll take your word for it."

Oh, hell. He rubbed the back of his neck to relieve the tension there. This was wrong. "I figured as much, that's why I—shit, suddenly I feel like a weirdo. This was a mistake. I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry."

He turned to leave, but she put her hand on his forearm.

"Please don't go. They don't have a full cafeteria here. It's more like a snack shop. Why don't we get something to drink and talk?"

"You sure? Because you know if your brother finds out, I'm pretty sure he'll kill me."

She glanced around the area. "No if about it. He'll find out. But we're in a public place, so there won't be much to gossip about other than we'll be sitting at the same table. How bad can that be?"

"I've got two little sisters. Take my word for it, it can be bad."

She slid her hand down his arm and into his hand, then tugged. "Come on. I'm willing to risk it if you are." She bit her bottom lip again.

Damn. "Okay. Lead the way."

She let go of his hand, took two steps and then stopped and faced him again. "Oh, and just so you know. You don't look anything like the weirdos I've pictured in my head."

God help him. This girl was going to be the death of him.

As always, thanks for reading. Don't worry, Clarke will be awake soon. Like with my last fic, there will be multiple POV's. If you haven't figured it out yet, Linctavia is the second couple. I still miss Lincoln and it seems most fics he's never a talker, so it was a fun challenge to give him his whole POV. Keep coming with the comments, that always makes my day! Next chapter will be released on Thursday, March 15.