Do You Remember?

Clarke ended her 8 hour emergency room shift in typical fashion: covered with vomit.

"Geez Griffin you reek," Murphy said disgustedly as he joined up with her to walk back into the resident locker room.

After spending 8 hours on her feet her patience was wearing thin and so she spun around to face him.

"Really? I hadn't noticed," she deadpanned.

He shook his head knowingly, "See, this is exactly why I tell you not to take the kiddy patients."

She widened her eyes, "Oh, you tell me? You don't tell me anything! You take all of the easy cases before I even get a chance to look at them while I get saddled with the miniature geysers!"

Murphy shrugged, "Not my fault you're not as quick and perceptive as I am."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Yes well it's too bad I don't have the skill set you picked up while being a juvenile delinquent," she jabbed back.

He smiled like the goddamn Chesire Cat, "Touché Griffin, touché."

After she'd showered and redressed for the second time that day, Clarke walked over to her locker space where Murphy was leaning impertinently.

"Much better," he said as his eyes roamed her up and down.

She fought back the urge to roll her eyes, but was more disconcerted by the fact that having Murphy's eyes staring at her post showered and clothed body made her feel entirely different than being under Bellamy's gaze just a few hours earlier. That moment had been one of the most embarrassing of her life. She'd tried her best to ignore the way his gaze had bore into her towel clad body, but she had been unable to control the blush that she was sure crept over her entire face. She didn't know why she'd felt so uncomfortable. She was 26 for crying out loud, she'd been seen in far less than a towel, but something about the way he'd looked at her threw her off balance. She'd felt mortified, like she was on display… like she was being judged.

When his eyes had finally met hers a few seconds later (even though to Clarke it had felt like hours), she was even more surprised not to be met with his usual impassive, unreadable, and stone cold stare. No, instead Bellamy Blake had been looking at her like he was in shock… like he was impressed.

She shook her head; she'd probably just been imagining things. But whatever it was, that moment had been too confusing to forget. She refocused on the fact that Murphy was still leering at her so she threw her wet towel at him.

"Eyes up here asshole," she said while trying to get her towel, which he now held hostage above his head, back from his reach.

"You know what? I think I'll keep this. I'll just go ahead and add it to my Clarke Griffin shrine."

Clarke gave another tug and he finally relented his grip, laughing while she stumbled backwards and almost tripped over herself.

"I hate you," she spat with conviction.

"You know what they say Griffin – hate is the only thing stronger than love."

Clarke looked at him with a blank stare, "Murphy, no one says that."

"Sure they do," he teased. "You've just been hanging around with the wrong people."

Clarke shoved him out of the way and grabbed her purse from her locker, closed it, and started heading towards the door – inwardly cursing the fact that she heard his steps fall in behind her.

"Speaking of people," he started, "Are you finally going to tell me about life with the hot teacher."

Clarke groaned. Murphy had taken to calling Bellamy that all week. She cringed at the thought of him saying that around him. God knows Bellamy would probably just assume that Clarke had been the one to coin the nickname.

She looked over her shoulder at him, "What did I tell you about calling him that?"

Murphy shrugged innocently, "You told me not do it… so obviously I'm going to keep on doing it."

Typical, she thought.

"Oh come on Griffin," he begged once they'd quit the confines of the hospital and were standing by the bus shelter. The air was misty, and at the risk of being cliche, she thought it felt like the calm before a storm. She looked at the still full parking lot and couldn't help but feel a bittersweet tug within her. Any other place would be deserted at this hour, but not the hospital. That's what she'd loved about it when she was a kid; it was a place constantly buzzing with energy, not the claustrophobic quiet she'd always felt at her parent's house.

As she grew older she knew that the buzz that'd been so comforting to her wasn't something pleasant to most people at all. To them it wasn't a sanctuary; it was the place where their lives would change, often not for the better. But still, even with the grim truth behind it, that buzz had always put her at ease. It had always made her feel at home.

Murphy's voice brought her back to the present, "Stop being so mum Griffin, spill the details already I'm dying over here."

She sighed, "You know you really have got to get yourself more of a social life."

Suddenly she felt a hand on her elbow and she turned to face her colleague, who was now giving her the most stomach churning puppy dog face she'd ever seen. Oh god make it stop, she thought.

"Fine!" she cried in defeat and exasperation, "But I don't know what you want from me, there's nothing to tell."

Murphy scoffed as he sat down onto the bench and patted the space next to him, "I find that hard to believe… I have a sixth sense for these things, and there was some serious tension between you two."

She could say what she wanted to about Murphy, but he was spot on about that.

"There's history there? Am I right?"

She sighed; this was the last thing she wanted to get into right now, with Murphy of all people. Yes, there was history between her and Bellamy, some of which even Octavia didn't know.

She checked her watch, 5:53. She had 7 minutes before her bus, and something told her that Murphy had no intentions of letting up, and so despite what her brain was screaming at her, she sat down next to him and decided she'd finally tell the truth.

"You know that Bellamy is Octavia's brother, right?"

She saw him grin, "Yes oh yes I do. Damn that is one hell of a gene pool."

Clarke rolled her eyes, "Anyways. O and I were roommates back in freshman year of college. We may be best friends now, but let's just say that things between the two of us got off to a rocky start."

He nudged her, "You're going to have to elaborate on that Griffin."

She paused before answering, blanching at the memories that were now resurfacing.

"I was a spoiled brat ok?" she admitted reluctantly. She hated remembering this part of her life, and looking back at the ways she'd acted Clarke struggled to find much to like about her past self.

"My parents were filthy rich, and I wasn't used to being in a dorm or being on my own. I was whiny, I complained, and probably threw a tantrum or two. I needed control, I always needed the upper hand, and I wasn't used to having to share that. Honestly, I'm surprised Octavia resisted the urge to kill me. I thought she was a bitch and she thought I was a pathetic little Princess, and I can't blame her for telling her brother the same."

"You're talking to the King of rocky starts Griffin… no one's perfect," Murphy chimed in, "Not even you. We've all been assholes at one point or another."

Clarke knew he was trying to make her feel better, but to be honest his show of sincerity just confused her.

"Well anyways," she continued, trying to ignore the way Murphy was looking at her. It wasn't his usual mocking grin – that she could handle, what she couldn't handle was this look of pity.

"O and I had our fair share of problems; I'm pretty sure I even went to the Residence Office to try and switch roommates more than once, but that didn't go anywhere. About two months in to college, she told me her brother was coming up to visit. She told me this the morning of, and I completely flipped at her. What was I supposed to do? Just book myself a train home or sleep in a room with a random stranger? It got pretty blown up and of course Bellamy showed up right in the middle of it. Well lucky for me, little did I know that I'd actually met this "complete stranger" the night before, down at one of the pubs close to campus."

Murphy widened his eyes, "Oh my god don't tell me you –"

"No!" she yelled, stopping his train of thought before it could go any further. "Nothing like that. We were both just tipsy, but we talked for what must have been hours. To be honest he was probably the nicest guy I'd met at college up to that point. But the next time he saw me, I saw no recognition in his eyes. The only thing I saw was him realizing that his sister's spoiled roommate was exactly like she'd described and maybe even worse."

She still remembered that scowl to this day, granted he hadn't looked at her with that much disdain of recently, but still. Clarke knew what people said about first impressions, and when she reflected on the past week living with Bellamy, she couldn't help but feel that they were both trying their best to forget hers.

"And that's that," she said conclusively. "He made his mind up about me then and there, and even after O and I became friends I was still that same girl to him. And I'm positive he doesn't even remember meeting me that night in the pub."

"Damn Griffin, and here you were earlier trying to convince me there was "nothing to tell"."

The corners of her mouth turned downwards and she found herself deep in thought. To be perfectly honest she hadn't thought about that night in the pub in a long time or the way things with O had been back at the beginning. The two had come to a not so silent agreement that the past was the past and at this point in their friendship they'd been through so much together to let a few bad months tarnish their memories.

But sometimes, like now… those dark times would resurface. She hated the person she used to be, and every single damn time Bellamy Blake called her "Princess" he reminded her of everything she'd tried to forget, and everything that had made her change.

"Well it was years ago, none of that stuff matters now. We're not stupid college kids anymore. We're just two adults living together."

Murphy raised his brow, "So…. you don't "hate" him."

If Clarke was being honest, two weeks ago she probably would have said yes. Maybe not hate, but she certainly had no warm and fuzzy feelings towards the older Blake. But even with their fights, she had to admit, living with him wasn't as bad as she would have thought. Yes, he was a total ass half the time, but at the end of the day he'd helped her out when no one else would and she was starting to think that maybe they'd finally been able to put the past behind them.

"No," she said with about as much confidence as she could muster, "I guess I don't."

She could feel him staring at her with somewhat of a puzzled expression on his face, and she was relieved when her bus finally pulled up in front of the hospital. A part of her wished that'd she'd just decided to walk, but it was early and she was exhausted and now all she wanted to do was take a nap and forget this conversation had ever happened.

She stood up from underneath the bus shelter, and Murphy got up with her, back to his usual sarcastic self.

"Thanks for the story time Griffin, but try not to beat yourself up about it. At least you grew out of your asshole phase; I'm in this for life."

She couldn't help herself, she cracked a small smile.

She nudged his arm the way he had earlier, "Thanks Murphy. But You know when you try, you can almost be pleasant to be around."

Murphy winced, as if that compliment physically pained him. He mussed up her hair before she could stop him and she tried to (unsuccessfully) swat him away.

"Ugh I take that back, you're the worst. I still ha-"

"Hate me," he finished for her, "Yeah. I know. Now stop fooling around and get on your damn bus."

Clarke rolled her eyes, but did as he said. She got onto the practically empty bus and took a seat by the window. She hadn't noticed that the mist she'd felt earlier had turned into typical Seattle rain, finally ending the drought they'd been going through. As the drops trickled down the window Clarke caught sight of the distorted image of Murphy. She almost considered sticking her tongue out at him, or flipping him the bird, but she figured it'd be pointless - he wouldn't be able to see through the rain covered window at all.

And yet he still stood there, staring at the bus. It was only when it started to drive away that she looked back and saw him put his hands in his pocket, and with his head down he headed in the opposite direction of the parking lot and walked straight back into the hospital alone.

Her damn bus turned out to be a lot longer of a ride than the five minutes she would have spent if she'd just walked. There was construction so it was taking detours on detours, snaking around the city like a tourist without a map. While she sat there on the deserted bus in the early morning light, Clarke couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting to a night she'd tried to forget, a night 8 years ago.

It had been a Thursday night, a night where Clarke normally would have been found in the library or at the gym, but instead she'd been dragged out for a "fun" night by her best friend: Wells. Clarke had never liked bars, and the dingy crammed pub outside of campus (that was notoriously popular for letting in minors and selling cheap beer) was no exception. She was sitting at the bar waiting their second round of drinks when Wells stumbled back to her, and he'd brought company.

"Hey Clarke I'm going to take off all right". His words were slurred and she could barely make out what he was trying to say, but from the way his arms were laced around two girls and that excited look in his eyes, Clarke could pretty much piece the situation together.

"Oh no you're not Wells Jaha. Come on! You cannot seriously leave me here alone."

He waved her off like she was delusional with an uncoordinated flap of his hand.

"You'll be fineeee Clarke," he mussed her hair, "Have some fun!"

He staggered backwards so one of his conquests of the night stumbled into the guy sitting next to Clarke at the bar.

He fixed the bumbling brunette with a glare, only causing her to put a hand to her mouth to stifle a fit of giggles.

Wells was already distracted and pulling her back towards him, trying to lead them out of the bar.

Clarke was starting to feel frantic, the logistics of the situation looking more and more bleak. She'd have to walk back to campus, alone in the dark. How the hell could he just leave her like this?

"Wells, you can't be serious?"

But he was already gone, making his way through the swarm of college kids on the dance floor.

"Great," she muttered turning back towards the bar which now held her two full drinks, "Just fucking great."

She was getting ready to just forget the drinks and figure out a way to get back to the dorm and drown herself in self pity when the person next to her let out a smirk.

"Some friend", a low voice remarked.

Clarke whipped around to face the stranger next to her and ask him not so politely who the hell he thought he was to be eavesdropping on private conversations, but when she laid eyes on the person next to her she lost all traces of intelligent thought.

Leaning his elbows on the bar next to her and nursing a beer was the hands down most gorgeous guy she'd laid her eyes on that night.

He flashed her a lop sided grin and in that moment Clarke thanked the fact that she was already halfway drunk and any redness on her cheeks could just be attributed to her "under the influence" flush.

Words Clarke, she'd thought to herself, now would be a great time to use some words.

"Tell me about it," she'd replied flippantly.

He smirked and leaned in slightly closer. The only reason Clarke had noticed was because she could now make out the colour of his eyes, deep brown, and glazed over in a way that led her to believe this wasn't his first drink of the night.

"You know what they say... with friends like these" he started, with one corner of his mouth still raised and a teasing edge to his words.

She decided to play along.

"Who needs enemies," she finished for him, a smile of her own passing onto her lips.

He laughed, "Seems to me like you are in need of a new friend."

"Why? You know anyone up for the job?"

At that he smiled goofily and leaned back on his chair, pointing his arms at his own chest.

"Well it's your lucky day, because I just so happen to be a perfect friend."

She raised her eyebrow in doubt, "You certainly seem awfully sure of yourself'

He leaned back in closer, the beer he'd been drinking earlier completely ignored.

"I have reason to be. After all I've been told I have a multitude of credentials."

"Wow, a multitude, really," she said with mock enthusiasm, "Well let's hear them then."

He flashed her a look that seemed to say "challenge accepted" and for a moment Clarke thought, Oh god what have I gotten myself into?

"First of all," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm easy to look at."

She rolled her eyes which only made him smile more, but she had to admit that he was right. He certainly was not hard on the eyes, and he definitely knew it.

"Second of all I have never abandoned someone at a strange bar, so that should already gives me points in your book."

"And finally," he dropped his voice before continuing, "I know you."

That made her stop. What the fuck? Who did this guy think he was? Was he on her floor? A guy in her tutorial that she'd just never recognized? She was pretty sure the answer couldn't have been either considering she figured it'd be hard to forget a face like his.

"You know me?" she asked, pinning him under as serious of glare as she could muster when in reality she probably just looked like she was cross eyed.

He finished his beer before eyeing the second one that had been for Wells. She simply shrugged as if to say help yourself.

"What I mean, is that I get you."

"You get me?"

He laughed, "Are you planning on repeating everything I say all night?"

Clarke frowned and opened her mouth to respond, but thought better and just closed it, giving him the sign to continue.

"You, my new serious friend, are what I like to call, the reluctant good girl."

The reluctant good girl? Again she wondered who the hell this guy thought he was.

"Explain," she said.

"Gladly. Let me guess, coming out tonight wasn't your idea. It was your friends, and from the moment you set foot in this deplorable throng of booze soaked stupidity, you've been planning on how to escape."

She was about to open her mouth to refute his ridiculous accusation when he kept going, "You're the golden girl. A+ student, probably Pre Med or Poli Sci and on the road to success. You don't have time for silly college traditions like getting drunk on Thursday nights, or fawning over frat boys. You don't care about the football games, and the foam parties, you're in college for the real deal."

She was speechless and uncomfortable with the way he was able to size her up with such precision, like she was an open book and he was just languidly flipping through her pages. He was right about some things, that was for sure, but not on others. Sure she was in pre med, and of course she wanted to be successful, but that's how she'd been raised. That was the Griffin way.

But that didn't mean she didn't know how to have fun, or that she walked around with a stick up her ass. She certainly hadn't shied away from parties back in high school, but college was a different story. The things she did here mattered, they were what would decide her future. Maybe he was right, maybe she had gone into the experience too seriously. Maybe she had spent more time with her nose stuck in her books than making friends. Maybe she had driven away the only person who probably could have liked her if she'd tried, but she'd cared more about being successful than being kind.

Maybe she had fucked up, big time. And this complete total stranger was finally showing her the way other's saw her, and that person was not someone she liked one bit. That someone wasn't her, that someone was a stranger.

"Hey Clarke," his voice was softer now. Kinder. As if he'd noticed the fact that she was slowly falling into distress. She didn't want to be here with this stranger pointing out how obviously unlikeable she was. "We're friend's right?"

The thought crossed her mind that she didn't even know his name, but it drifted away and she simply nodded.

"Then because were friends I'm going to let you in on a secret," he smiled mischievously and leaned in closer. So close that she felt his breath tickle her ear, "You can have both."

And so he'd bought her a round of shots and they'd drank to everything Clarke had missed out on her first months of college. They drank to the frat boys, and to crappy drunk friends. They drank to the football games, and to the cheap beer. They drank to sketchy bars and to shitty music until they'd become too distracted to even remember drinking at all.

They'd laughed about everything from pervy professors to the chemistry TA that Clarke was unshakably certain was a drug dealer on the side. They'd talked until the pub had grown quiet and the bartender all but kicked them out. For the first time in months she hadn't felt pressure, and she hadn't felt anxiety. She forgot about the anatomy tests, and chemistry labs, and the roommate who hated her, but was impossible to ignore. She forgot about the Clarke Griffin she'd become since leaving home, and remembered the person she used to be. The kind of person who could talk to a beautiful boy all night and laugh so hard it hurt.

And she realized sometime after 3 AM, once she'd been walked back to her dorm by that disconcertingly perceptive stranger, she'd (despite her best efforts) had a fun night after all.

About 15 minutes later, when she'd finally gotten off that damn bus, Clarke made her way up to her apartment. The place was dark and silent. It looked different in the gray morning light; it looked peaceful, untouched. She crept to her room, not wanting to break the silence and trying to make the illusion last as long as possible.

In her room she kept the blinds open and collapsed onto her bed. The comforting sound of rain plus the ache in her bones being more than enough to lull her to sleep.

That morning she dreamt of crowded bars, college nights, and of a not so unfamiliar stranger with a pair of unnerving brown eyes.

A/N : And here's a Clarke chapter! A little more serious than usual maybe, but hopefully you guys liked the little flashback! Now the question is, does Bellamy really not remember that night at the pub? You'll find out next chapter :) And for those guessing that Murphy maybe has a lil crush on Clarke... I reveal nothing! I will say though that I hate Love Triangles, so I am definitely not going down that road... but things between the two of them may be a little more complex than you know. And why was he was going back to the hospital... well, there's a reason behind that too.

Hope you guys enjoyed the update! I'm already working on the next chapter and it's shaping up to be a fun one :P