A/N:I hope it is worth the slight wait. It is certainly the longest chapter so far. Also, as a disclaimer, I am but a humble history major who has no idea how anything medical works.
Clarke didn't want to wait to book a plane back to DC or even to get a ticket for Amtrak. Nobody knew what could change over the next 24 hours and she was determined to see Wells at least once before he died (if he died, she told herself repeatedly).
If it had been any other occasion, Clarke would have rejected, or at least put up more of a fight, when Bellamy offered to drive her to DC, but this was Wells. She wanted to leave immediately, however Bellamy insisted on waiting until the morning to avoid driving tired and still somewhat intoxicated. He had a week off before he began working with the police force, so they had plenty of time. Clarke tried to tell him that they did not, in fact, have plenty of time because her best friend had been shot in the street. In the end it was Octavia who calmed her down, laying in bed with Clarke and stroking her hair until she fell into a fitful sleep.
At 6:00 the next morning Clarke and Bellamy said goodbye to a tearful Octavia and began the ten and a half hour journey to the capital. Bellamy drove all day, silent as Clarke repeatedly called her mother for updates on Wells' condition.
Just after 5:00 they reached Washington. Clarke directed Bellamy to the house she had grown up in on Capital Hill and they quickly dropped their bags off before driving to Georgetown Hospital.
Her mother was waiting for her outside Wells' door. Despite the differences between the two women, they embraced tightly for a long moment before pulling apart. Abby looked curiously at Bellamy and then back to Clarke awaiting an explanation.
"This is Bellamy. He's one of my housemates; he drove me here. I'll explain more later just tell me what happened again now that we can talk in person."
"The police said that it was a criminal he helped put away when he was still working as a paralegal. You remember the Anderson case? How he was the one to find the slip up in the alibi? Well turns out Anderson was released on probation last week and blames Wells for getting put away. The lunatic apparently followed him around for a few days; yesterday afternoon he shot Wells in broad daylight outside the office."
"Oh my God." Tears were rolling down Clarke's cheeks as she imagined the scene.
"Fortunately the paramedics got there in time. They were able to stem the bleeding but Wells was unconscious and still hasn't woken up. Doctor Keller said its probably due to trauma but they aren't sure when or if he will wake up."
Clarke broke down in sobs. Abby wrapped her arms around her daughters whispering words of comfort as tears streamed down her own cheeks.
"Can I see him, Mom?"
"Of course, Thelonius is in there now but I'm sure it will help to see you."
"Oh God, Uncle Thelonius. First his Wells' mom and now-"
"There is still a chance he will pull through, Clarke. We need to stay hopeful."
Abby led Clarke into Wells' room as Bellamy took a seat outside.
Wells was lying on the hospital bed, various monitors and tubes hooked up around him. His father sat beside him, holding Wells' hand and watching his son mournfully.
"Thelonius." Her mom said quietly. The mayor turned around.
"Clarke! You made it." Clarke nodded and wiped at her eyes. "Good. He would want that." Thelonius looked back down at his unconscious son.
Clarke felt frozen in place as everything became very real. Wells was in a coma. Wells might die. Abby nudged her forward and Clarke walked towards the bed. She stood on the opposite side of Thelonius and grasped Wells' limp hand. A sob wracked her body followed by a second and a third. Abby came up behind her and pulled Clarke back into her arms.
"Shh, sweatheart, its okay. That's right, let it out."
Two hours later they left Wells' room. Clarke's eyes were swollen and her throat was raw. Bellamy jumped up as soon as he saw her, concern written in his eyes.
"Can you take her home… Brandon was it?"
"Bellamy."
"Bellamy. Can you take her home? You are welcome to stay at our house, thank you for bringing her down here. I'm going to stay with Wells' father for a while longer."
Bellamy just nodded and mumbled a small thanks, his eyes were focused on Clarke.
The ride to her mom's house was quiet, only interrupted now and then by Clarke's sniffles.
Once they arrived Clarke showed Bellamy to a guest bedroom where she let him hold her while she cried. After her tears dried, Clarke showed him to the kitchen and bid him goodnight. She had no appetite.
Clarke slunk down the stairs at 7:00 the next morning to find Bellamy and her mom already awake in the kitchen. The air was thick with icy tension when she walked in and Bellamy wouldn't meet her eyes. It was more than obvious they had disagreed about something but Clarke was too tired to get involved. She didn't get along with her mom so it wasn't surprising Bellamy didn't seem to either.
She sat at the island next to Bellamy and he handed her his untouched cup of coffee. As she picked at the coffee cake that had been laid out, Abby questioned her plans for the day.
"I'm going to go see Wells again. I'll probably be there for a while." Clarke could feel tears pricking at her eyes.
"My shift starts in an hour but I can drop you off first if you would like."
Clarke shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Just because she was home didn't mean everything was fine between her and her mother. Bellamy noticed her apprehension.
"I'll drive her." He stated as if it was obvious.
"That's not-"
"That would be great, Bellamy. Thank you." He nodded at her and left the kitchen, most likely heading upstairs to call Octavia. Clarke turned to her mom. "What did you say to him before I came down?" The acridity of her voice surprised her almost as much as it surprised Abby.
"Nothing, I-"
"Mom, I could have cut the tension with a knife when I walked in. He was nice enough to drive me all the way here and stay until I need to go back. Bellamy didn't have to do that. The least you could do is be cordial."
"I am grateful for that, Clarke. But he rubs me the wrong way."
Clarke rolled her eyes. "How the hell does he do that, Mom?"
"Don't you dare pin this all on me, Clarke. He has not exactly been warm and open."
"He comes from a very different background. I'm sure it's frustrating to see people living like this after how he was raised."
"Which brings me to what I want to discuss with you. Wells told me about the area you live in Clarke-"
"No he didn't. He told his dad who told you."
"That doesn't matter. What matters is that you are not living in a safe area. And you are living with a guy you barely know who has come back from three tours and is now joining the police force."
"I don't see how that's a bad thing. Plus Octavia is in the house too. And I'm 26, Mom."
"My point is that he has a violent background and if he grew up in that neighborhood-"
"You ready to go Clarke?" Bellamy appeared in the archway of the kitchen. Clarke was sure there was no way he didn't hear her mom's last comment, but he kept his eyes fixed on Clarke.
"Yeah, let me just grab my purse. I'll meet you in the car."
Bellamy nodded and turned to leave. Before he got far, however, he turned back. "Thank you for the coffee and for letting me stay in your home, Mrs. Griffin. I'm sorry if my violent background worries you." His tone was innocent but Clarke knew Bellamy and could sense the anger in his words.
After he left she turned back to her Abby. "Good job."
"Clarke I'm only trying to look out for you. That's my job as your mother."
"I wish you would just trust me to make my own decisions."
"I do trust you, Clarke, but-"
"I know you miss the way things were, Mom. I get it, okay? I miss it too. But the truth is we are different people and there are some things that have happened that can't be undone. But if you want to fix this," Clarke motioned at the air between them, "then you need to start treating me like an adult."
Abby didn't reply. Instead she sighed, frustrated, and turned back to the paperwork she had been looking at.
Clarke managed to spend the greater part of the day at Wells' side, only leaving in the early afternoon when a nurse gently told her the doctors needed to come in. Bellamy was waiting outside reading a newspaper. He stood as soon as he saw her, following as she made her way to the exit.
Once they got to the truck they sat in silence for a few minutes.
"How is he?"
"The same."
Bellamy nodded and gazed out at the street. "Well, what now, Princess?"
"I don't know." Clarke didn't feel much like doing anything. Bellamy stared over at her for a moment before turning the key in the ignition.
"What's the fastest way to the National Gallery?"
"Bellamy we don't have to-"
"Just humor me, Princess." She pointed out directions and forty-five minutes later (after finally finding a parking spot) they were walking along the Mall towards the Gallery.
As they strolled through the galleries, Bellamy asked Clarke all about the paintings, intentionally spending more time in the Italian Renaissance section because he knew it was her favorite. Clarke wanted to be annoyed with his constant inquiries, but she knew that he was only doing it to distract her from thinking about Wells.
By the time they made their way outside to get a late lunch from a street vendor, Clarke did feel a bit better than she had before. Talking about art always calmed her.
"This was one of my favorite things to do growing up." She said finally as they walked past the Smithsonian Castle.
"Eat gyros?" Bellamy said with a small smirk.
"No," Clarke rolled her eyes. "Going to the Gallery, just walking around the Mall watching tourists. Whenever I didn't want to deal with stuff at home, Wells and I would catch the metro and come here. He always complained that it was too touristy but I loved it."
Bellamy looked at her closely. "How often did you come?" She knew he was really asking how often she didn't want to deal with being home.
"A lot. Towards the end of high school things really started to deteriorate between me and my mom. I mean, it was nothing like it is now but I just got sick of having to go to so many banquets and etiquette lessons and stuff. I just wanted to be a kid while I could. College was coming too fast and I didn't want to think about my future. Coming here always made it feel like time was standing still. Everything stayed the same. I didn't have to worry if I was saying the right things or meeting the right people or making the best grades."
She sat on a bench and Bellamy did the same. Clouds were starting to form in the distance.
"I don't know what I would have done without Wells. Not just because he was my best friend, but also because he understood everything. He had the same kind of life, though he liked it more than I did. It helped a lot to always have a friendly face at a party, to have someone to talk to when I wanted to avoid old men asking about my life plans. Even when I left DC, he was the only one who really understood why and didn't judge me for leaving. I don't know what I'm going to do if I lose him." Tears started form in her eyes and Clarke wiped them away angrily. She was so tired of crying. Bellamy placed an understanding hand on her knee. The gesture was more comforting than any words could be.
When they got back there was a note stuck to the fridge from Abby explaining she would be working late into the night. Bellamy suggested they order take out and Clarke found her old stash of menus in the junk drawer. She left Bellamy to order as she collapsed on the couch in the family room. The day had drained her.
Tears slipped down her cheeks against her will but Clarke was too tired to fight her emotions.
"Hey so I decided to go with Thai food, I got Pad Thai and-"
Clarke tried to brush away the tears as Bellamy made his way into the room. It was too late, though. Bellamy strode over to where she sat, hunched over with her head in her hands. He knelt in front of her and put his hands on her knees.
"Hey, come on. It's going to be okay."
"But what if it isn't? What if he doesn't wake up?"
Bellamy looked up at her with concerned eyes and tucked a loose blonde curl behind her ear.
"You got any good movies, Princess?" He was trying to change the conversation, to distract her from the shitty situation they were in. Clarke wanted to be annoyed with him, but instead she was just grateful for the distraction.
She pointed to the shelves under the plasma screen and Bellamy crouched down to look at the titles.
"These movies suck." She let out a watery laugh while he smirked at her. "What's your favorite?"
An hour later they were in the middle of The Godfather and eating Thai out of the box. Bellamy sat at one end of the couch, Clarke's feet in his lap, as she reclined on the other side.
"I don't get why Kay stays with Michael. The movies would be so much better if he had some kickass mob wife," Clarke complained, mouth full of drunken noodles.
"Its to show how different Michael has become I think."
"Well that's obvious by the end."
"True. She is pretty annoying. Especially in the next one."
"Right?" Clarke jerked up sending a noodle flying. "I mean what was she expecting marrying into the biggest crime family in New York?"
"She definitely knew what she was getting into." He stuffed an eggroll in his mouth before tossing Clarke one.
They watched Forrest Gump next. After cleaning up the takeout, Clarke sat down on the couch next to Bellamy. Their arms brushed uncomfortably and after a while he stretched his arm on the couch behind her. Almost involuntarily, Clarke leaned into his shoulder.
It should have been awkward but it wasn't. Clarke tried not to read too much into why that might be.
She nodded off a few times during the second half of the movie, only really waking up when Bellamy lightly whispered her name.
"Sorry," Clarke said sheepishly, scooting away from him.
Bellamy shook his head, "Don't be sorry."
Clarke blushed and stood quickly. "Well, we should probably get to bed. I want to go back and visit in the morning."
Bellamy nodded and followed her upstairs.
Sure enough, they left early the next morning to visit Wells again. Bellamy sat in the hall while Clarke spent the morning talking to Wells. She told him stories about Chicago, memories of their shared childhood, how good the Thai food had been the night before.
She begged Wells to wake up and apologized for all the times they had fought in their 26-year friendship.
She told him about Bellamy and how great he had been, bringing her to DC, waiting for her at the hospital, making sure she was doing okay.
At noon a nurse came in and told her the doctors needed to run some tests, so Clarke found Bellamy and they left.
They spent the afternoon wandering around the Botanical Gardens and the Natural History Museum. Clarke let Bellamy distract her from worrying about Wells as he rambled on about how much Octavia would love the gardens and how fascinating the human evolution exhibit was at the museum.
They were sitting on the Mall watching tourists corral their children when Clarke's phone rang. It was her mother.
"Mom?" Clarke's voice was panicked; worried that it would be bad news about Wells. Bellamy watched her anxiously.
"Clarke when are you going to be home tonight?"
"I don't know. I don't really have a plan."
"Where are you now?"
"On the Mall. I was thinking of stopping by the hospital again before coming home. Probably in about an hour or so. Why?"
"Try to be here by 5:00. Marcus is coming for dinner and wants to see you."
"Its 4:15 now, Mom. There won't be enough time to see Wells."
"You were with him this morning, sweetheart. The doctors say it isn't likely there will be a change anytime soon. Plus I think Thelonious wanted to stop by, you should let him have time alone with him son."
"Fine. We'll be there at 5:00."
"Thanks, baby. See you at home."
"Bye."
She hung up and put her phone in her pocket before slumping back against the bench.
"What's up?"
"My mom invited General Kane over for dinner and wants me back by 5:00."
"Oh," Bellamy was silent for a moment. "Should I find something else to do or," he left the sentence hanging and Clarke realized he didn't know if he was invited to dinner or not.
"You're invited, of course." She smiled at him. "You are our guest after all."
Bellamy tried to grin back but failed. His brow was suddenly creased with worry.
"What's wrong?" He seemed distracted and didn't answer. Clarke put a hand on his knee. "Bellamy?"
"Oh, sorry." He turned back to her. "I just… I don't want to talk about the war and-"
"He's a general so it's sure to come up when he finds out you were deployed," Clarke finished for him. Bellamy nodded solemnly. Clarke squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out. I'll change the subject if it comes up."
His eyes bore into hers, revealing the fear he felt. Clarke smiled reassuringly and stood, telling him they should get going if they wanted time to get ready.
Bellamy easily slid back into his comfortable sarcasm by asking her which tiara she planned to wear. She punched his shoulder, laughing when tired to tickle her in retaliation.
Dinner, as it always had been growing up, was a formal affair.
The housekeeper set the table with the best dishes and cutlery before presenting the seared salmon and numerous side dishes. Wine was poured and napkins placed in laps.
Clarke's despised etiquette lessons came back easily. Poor Bellamy (who was clearly very uncomfortable from his place across from her) was way out of his league and relied on Clarke's pointed looks to know what do.
The formality of it reminded Clarke why she had left this world in the first place. It was ridiculous, in her opinion, to have a dinner this formal for one guest who had known the family since before Clarke was born. She would take a beer and pizza on the couch over this any day.
Despite the uncomfortable setting, Clarke had to admit it was nice to see Marcus Kane again. He had always been kind to her, like an uncle (he insisted on her calling him Uncle Marcus after all). He had greeted her warmly when she came downstairs, offering his condolences and support. Her mom had still not totally warmed up to Bellamy, but Kane treated him genially which seemed to make her mom a little more open.
The first half of dinner was dominated by discussions of Wells; his current condition, the likelihood of survival, and the circumstances of the shooting. Kane had watched Wells grow up just as he had watched Clarke and his concern for the young man was evident. Still, Clarke was grateful when Kane steered the conversation towards lighter topics.
"So Clarke," Kane said while taking a second helping of salmon. "How is Chicago treating you?"
"I like it a lot, the hospital is great and I have a nice group of friends." Clarke smiled across the table at Bellamy who returned the gesture. She turned back to Kane and told him all about her job in the ER.
"And how about you, Bellamy?" The general turned to him, clearly startling Bellamy who hadn't been paying attention to the conversation.
"Excuse me, sir?"
"What do you do for a living?"
"I actually just got instated in the Chicago Police Department. I get my first assignment next week."
"Congratulations."
"Thank you, sir."
"I'm sorry if I'm wrong in this assumption, but did you serve? Something about you strikes me as military."
Bellamy's eyes locked with Clarke's for a moment before flitting back to Kane. Clarke knew he had been dreading this question and the discussion it might lead to.
"Yes, sir. I served three tours in the Middle East."
Kane asked him the details of his tours; where he had gone, whom he had served with, when he had gone. Fortunately the weathered general seemed to understand Bellamy's desire to change the topic. Unfortunately he did so by asking how long Clarke and Bellamy had been dating.
"Oh, um…" Bellamy stumbled, avoiding Clarke's eyes.
"We actually aren't dating, Uncle Marcus. He is one of my housemates."
Kane looked surprised. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed that since he drove you down here on such short notice and because of- never mind. I'm sorry for the assumption."
Bellamy's face was red and Clarke could feel the blush on her own cheeks. She was desperate to fill the awkward silence. "Its actually kind of a funny story how we ended up being housemates." She launched into the tale effectively relieving the tension in the room.
As her mother's housekeeper brought out the desert Kane asked Clarke when she was planning on returning to Chicago.
"We have to leave by the end of the week. My supervisor gave me the week off because it's a family emergency, but I need to be back at work by Monday. Bellamy needs to be back by Monday as well to start his job downtown."
"It's a shame." Abby muttered at the head of the table.
"What?" Clarke knew she shouldn't rise to her mother's bait, but old habits died hard.
"I said it's a shame." Abby met her eyes refusing to back down.
"Abby," Kane warned. He had witnessed the upcoming argument multiple times before and Clarke was sure that her mom vented to the general about Clarke's stubbornness. It didn't matter though; Abby ignored Kane's warning.
"If you still lived in the district like I suggested, you could be here with him. You wouldn't even have to take time off. You know how close we are with the Jahas, Clarke. They are family, you should be with your family during times like this."
"I am with family, Mom. I came back for a week. I left as soon as I could, I had Bellamy drive me all the way here to save time I would have spent waiting for a flight or train."
"That doesn't change the fact that if you had listened to me-"
"I was sick of listening to you, all I ever did was listen to you. The whole point of my doing my residency in Chicago was to be independent. I'm an adult mom, I'm not a little kid anymore."
"Really? Because running away seems pretty childish to me, Clarke."
Clarke's jaw clenched. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Bellamy gazing at her expectedly. She never backed down from a battle with him and he knew she wouldn't back down from this battle either.
"I'm not running away. It's my life and I'm free to do what I want with it. This city is toxic for me and you know that. It killed my dad and I could feel it killing me."
Kane cleared his throat as if to remind the women they weren't alone. Both ignored him.
"So that's what this is all about. I knew it. Clarke, how many times do I have to tell you-"
"I don't want to her it again, Mom. I'm done with this." She rose and threw her napkin on the table. "It was very nice to see you again, Uncle Marcus. I'm sorry that the evening had to end on such a sour note." Clarke shot a glare at her mom and an apologetic look to Bellamy before striding out of the dining room.
Clarke tried to sleep that night. She really did. For hours she tossed and turned trying to find a position comfortable enough to allow sleep to set in, but nothing worked. Her mom's words rang in her ears, Wells' health occupied her mind, and everywhere she looked she was reminded of her father. Soon it all became too much. She felt a familiar panic building up in her gut as the anxieties of her past and present overwhelmed her. Clarke had to get out of the room.
She quickly slipped on a pair of her old high school sweatpants and went into the hallway. From there Clarke wasn't exactly sure where to go or what to do. For a while she hovered between taking a shower and sitting in the back garden before something down the hall caught her eye and a new idea popped into her sleep-deprived mind.
Bellamy's door was ajar.
Clarke knew she should walk the opposite direction. After all he had done for her, the man deserved some peace and quiet. Her feet, however, seemed determined to ignore her brain. They moved of their own violation towards his slightly opened door.
She was just going to check on him, Clarke told herself. After all, he was a guest in her home. It would be the polite thing to make sure he was sleeping well. Her mother had raised her to be a proper hostess, right?
Scarcely allowing herself to breathe for fear of waking him up, Clarke nudged the door open. Street light from the hall window poured into the room and cut a narrow beam across Bellamy's sleeping form. He was on his stomach, half under the sheets. Clarke noted that he slept without a shirt but didn't let her mind dwell on the newfound fact.
She watched the steady rise and fall of his back, the way his hair fell across his closed eyes, how it moved in the slight breeze of the ceiling fan. He looked so peaceful and calm, so much younger than he was. Clarke knew she should leave, but watching him quieted her restless mind.
Suddenly a siren went speeding down the street. The unexpected noise scared Clarke shitless and she jumped, bumping her elbow against the door, which, in turn, slammed into the wall.
"Clarke?"
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
"I'm so sorry I was just-" She was just what? Clarke fumbled around her words, trying to come up with an excuse for being there and failing miserably. Bellamy propped himself up on his elbows and she could see his brow furrow in concern in the dim light.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just go back to bed, I didn't mean to wake you up."
"Clarke-"
"Really, its all fine." He gave her an incredulous look. The man could read her too well; it unsettled Clarke.
"Come here, Princess." Bellamy sat up in bed, giving Clarke a full view of his muscled chest. She swallowed hard. This was not a good idea. Once again, her feet ignored her brain. As she came to stand in front of him, Bellamy patted the spot on the bed next to him. "Sit." She sat. "Tell me what's wrong."
Clarke studied her hands. "I can't sleep…everything just reminded me of things I don't want to think about right now."
She could feel his eyes on her, but didn't turn to meet his probing gaze. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No." She didn't. Clarke was tired and just wanted to forget how fucked up her life was at the moment. She felt a big hand rest on her shoulder and finally met Bellamy's eyes. He gave her a small, understanding smile.
"I should go, I don't want to keep you up." Clarke moved to stand but Bellamy grabbed her hand before she could get too far.
"Clarke, wait." She turned around. Bellamy seemed apprehensive, but he didn't drop her gaze. "You can stay. If you want, that is." One hand scratched the back of his neck. It was a nervous impulse of his that Clarke had come to notice. "I mean I get it if you don't want to but sometimes when… things… overwhelm me I don't want to be alone. So if you don't want to be alone then you don't have to be." Clarke studied him, trying to decide what the right course of action was in the given situation. "I won't touch you or anything, I swear," Bellamy added after a beat.
Clarke looked at the door and weighed her options. She knew she wouldn't get any sleep in her childhood bedroom. There were other guest rooms, but they would feel cold and empty. There was no way in hell she was going to sleep with her mom. Not sleeping at all wasn't a great option either, given the fact that she had no idea how trying the next day would become.
She trusted Bellamy. And he looked so warm and safe and comforting. Clarke remembered how peaceful she had felt watching him sleep and wondered how good it would feel to hear those steady breaths next to her.
Clarke turned back to Bellamy and nodded, letting him pull her by their still clasped hands into the bed next to him. He tugged up the covers up over them.
True to his word, Bellamy didn't touch her. He stayed safely on his side of the large mattress. Despite the distance, Clarke could feel the heat rolling off him and hear him breathing. For the first time in days, she felt safe.
Clarke reached across the space between them and grabbed Bellamy's hand. After a moment he responded, squeezing her fingers slightly to acknowledge their hands' embrace.
"Thank you." Her voice was quiet and thick with emotion.
Bellamy turned his head towards her. "Anytime, Princess."
Clarke was asleep within minutes.
The first thing Clarke noticed when she came to in the morning was something warm against her. Her sleepy mind didn't think too much about this, instead choosing to try and get closer to the warmth. As she wiggled back into whatever her solid heat source was, a wave of warm air brushed over her ear as a disembodied voice groaned slightly.
A thick arm tightened around her waist and Clarke suddenly became very aware of who her heat source was and whose leg was between her legs and whose mouth was buried in her hair and whose arm was curled around her holding her close. Memories of how close they had been on the porch a few weeks before flooded into her mind and Clarke became desperate to get away.
As gently was she could, Clarke wiggled out of Bellamy's tight embrace praying he was still asleep. Once she was off the bed she turned around and watched Bellamy (still sleeping, thank God) roll onto his back.
She tiptoed out of the room and didn't notice Bellamy let out a sigh as he opened his eyes, having been awake for an hour already.
Abby was already gone by the time Clarke got out of the shower and padded into the kitchen to make coffee. She sat on the front porch watching neighbors walk to work and tourists make their way to Eastern Market or Capitol Hill. Her mug was nearly empty by the time the front door opened and Bellamy sat next to her.
"Morning."
"Morning."
They sat in silence while he finished his coffee. Neither mentioned the night before, but the feeling of his firm body pressed up against her own remained in Clarke's mind.
At 11:00 they climbed into the truck and made their way to the hospital. Bellamy waited patiently as Clarke picked out a new bouquet in the gift shop before following her up the elevator and down the hall to Wells room.
The doctors informed her that there was still no change in his condition. No news was better than good news though, she supposed.
Clarke placed the flowers on Wells' beside table and kissed his brow. She settled in the chair next to his bed while Bellamy moved towards the door.
"You can stay if you want."
Bellamy froze, his hand hovering over the door handle.
"He liked yo- likes you," Clarke corrected herself. "After he got back from Chicago he called me. I asked him what he thought of you and Octavia and everyone. He didn't think he would like you, no thanks to me, but he did. He thought you were a good man."
Bellamy turned to her, his face unreadable.
"I'm sure he wouldn't mind the extra company," she added softly.
Finally, Bellamy nodded and grabbed a spare chair. He placed it next to her and took a seat.
"I like him too." His voice was quiet, a little unsure.
Clarke smiled at him. She grabbed Wells hand and they sat in silence for a while.
"I hated him for a long time, you know." Bellamy didn't say anything but his eyes searched hers. Clarke turned away and watched Wells' unconscious form. "After my dad died, I blamed him for a while. He let me blame him even though it wasn't his fault at all."
Bellamy still didn't say anything, but Clarke suddenly felt the urge to tell him all about her father, all about things she had sworn never to talk about long ago.
"My dad, he wasn't involved in politics at all. My mom was always the one organizing functions and making connections. Dad just tagged along for the ride. He was never really a fan of my mom's political relations. Washington can be a very cutthroat place and it never sat well with Dad. He always spoke about the importance of honesty and transparency. Whenever my parents fought it turned into an argument about the people my mom associated our family with. They weren't shady people, not on the surface. But my dad didn't trust them. I mean some of the politicians we knew he liked; I'm not saying they are all bad. But there were some, like Senator Sydney who just rubbed him the wrong way. I think things got worse when I left for college. They didn't have me as a middle ground anymore." Clarke's voice got choked as tears welled up in her eyes. She felt Bellamy's hand envelope her own but she kept her eyes on Wells.
"Anyways, three years ago Wells' dad was up for reelection. The polls weren't looking very good for him and he and my mom were getting a little desperate. She wanted him to win because he made sure the hospital got plenty of funding, plus our families go way back. I was in med school at the time, I went to Georgetown, and I don't think they knew I was back in the house grabbing some extra canvases I had left in my room. My window was open and I heard them talking in the back." Tears slipped out of Clarke's eyes and she brushed them away gruffly.
"Apparently my mom had gone to meet with a few old political connections that afternoon to work out a deal to pull some strings and ensure Thelonious' reelection. My dad was really pissed about it. He got my mom to share the details of the deal. There is no point in me explaining it all now, but if a reporter got their hands on the deal, Thelonius would never be reelected, the senators and high up government workers involved would probably have received corruption charges, and my family's name would become taboo on Capital Hill."
"My dad knew all of that, but he told my mom he was going to go to a contact at the Washington Post anyways. He said it was the right thing to do, that even though we were close with the Jahas we couldn't blatantly trample on democracy. My mom fought him on it. She argued that our family and Wells' family would be ruined. That our legacies would be stained and she couldn't let that happen. He only agreed to stay silent when she said that my career and social life would be destroyed. But I disagreed."
Clarke's tears were now freely flowing down her cheeks. Bellamy handed her a tissue as she continued her story.
"I told him that I had overheard them when I met him for lunch at his office the next day. I said that I didn't care about the backlash we would face, he was right that we should come forward about the deal. There were too many dirty deals going on and I was just as sick of it as he was. He told me he was proud of me for wanting to come clean and promised me he would bring the deal to light. We agreed not to tell my mom." A sob wracked her body. "That was the last time I saw my dad alive."
"I called Wells that night and told him everything. I wanted to tell someone and I knew I couldn't tell my mom. I also wanted him to be ready when the story broke. He promised me he wouldn't tell anyone that my dad was going to go forward with the story. Wells had always been like me, he didn't like the deals our parents made."
"The next day my mom showed up at my apartment livid. She had found out my dad was going to meet with the reporter because I had convinced him to. She lectured me for an hour about it before finally leaving when she had to go to work and I had to go to class."
"That night…" Clarke's voice broke. "That night my parents were in an accident. They were on their way to a hospital dinner and, being my parents, didn't want our friends to know how broken the marriage was at that point or what my dad was going to do." She grasped Bellamy's hand tightly. "A driver careened into them in an intersection. My dad was in the driver's seat and his side of the car took the brunt of the impact. My mom was miraculously fine other than some bruises and a shattered ankle. My dad… he was bleeding really badly. He died before the EMTs arrived."
"Clarke-"
"I was stunned when I heard the news. And I was angry. I was so angry. Because how could my mother, a world-class surgeon, not know to apply pressure to his wound? The medical examiner said that if proper pressure had been applied he could have survived until the ambulance got there. He could have made it and my mom had to have known that. She has always claimed she was in shock and not thinking straight but I was so convinced for so long that she had done it on purpose, I still am I guess. She let him die to protect our family's name. I blamed her for letting my dad die and I blamed Wells for giving her the motive. I assumed that he had been the one to tell Jaha, who then told my mom, that my dad was going to the Post anyways. That his betrayal of my trust was the reason she let my dad die."
"I didn't speak to him for half a year, not until my mom revealed in the middle of an argument that my dad had told her that night he was still going to go to the press. He had wanted to warn her so she could prepare, just like I had wanted to warn Wells."
"I wasted six months of our time together because I was too stubborn to listen to him, to trust him. Those are six months I can never get back. What if he dies, Bellamy, and I wasted six extra months I could have had with him? How can I ever live with myself?" Her chest heaved with the force of her sobs and Bellamy pulled her onto his lap. He held her close, soothingly stroking her hair while whispering words of comfort in her ear.
Even after her tears finally subsided, Clarke remained on Bellamy's lap leaning her head against his chest. He was warm and his steady heartbeat and strong arms wrapped around her made Clarke feel secure. Something about Bellamy always managed to calm the storm inside her.
They sat in the quiet, sterile room for a while watching Wells' chest ride and fall to the beeping of the monitor.
The sharp ringing of Bellamy's phone broke the peace. Clarke scooted off his lap so he could reach into his pocket to grab the piercing device. He checked the screen and looked up at her apologetically.
"Its O." Bellamy seemed unsure of whether or not he should answer, whether Clarke still needed him or if he could leave her.
"You should take it."
He nodded, eyes still filled with concern for her, before answering and leaving the room.
Clarke turned back to Wells. She perched herself on the hospital bed next to him, laying a hand over his chest.
"Don't die on me, Wells. Please."
His peaceful face remained unchanged.
"I can't do this without you Wells. I've always had you in my life. You are the one I'm suppose to be able to depend on." She sighed and combed her fingers through his hair as more tears slipped down her cheeks.
"Please come back to me."
Clarke heard the door open behind her and felt Bellamy's eyes on her back. He came up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Clarke wiped away her tears and turned to Bellamy.
"We should go get lunch."
"You sure you want to leave?"
Clarke nodded. "The doctor said it isn't likely anything will change today. It's been hours since breakfast; I know a place not to far away. We can come back after."
Bellamy nodded and grabbed his jacket, holding Clarke's out to her. She kissed Wells on the cheek and said goodbye before grabbing her coat from Bellamy. He opened the door for her as she asked what Octavia had called about.
"She just called to check up on us. See how things are going, how Wells is."
"That's nice of her."
"She's worried, Clarke. About him and about you."
Clarke felt another lump forming in her throat. She didn't know what she had done to deserve the Blakes in her life.
They got lunch at a little sandwich place she had frequented in med school. Halfway through the meal, Clarke's phone rang. It was the hospital.
Bellamy saw her freeze while staring at the phone.
"Clarke, what is it?"
"It's… it's the hospital." Her heart pounded in her chest. Wells had died. She had left and Wells had died.
"You need to answer, Clarke." She couldn't though. She couldn't because then this would all become real and she would lose Wells like she lost her father.
Bellamy seemed to sense her panic. He grabbed the phone out of her hand and answered for her.
"No, she isn't able to answer right now but I can take message and let her know. Yes she is with me. No we are not driving. Yes. Yes. Oh my God. Okay. When? Yeah, of course. Yes. Thank you, doctor. Alright, goodbye."
Clarke couldn't look at him. She didn't want to see the pity in his eyes.
"Clarke," his voice wasn't melancholy. Quite the opposite. Clarke looked up barely allowing herself to hope. A grin spread across Bellamy's face. "He's awake, Princess. Woke up twenty minutes ago."
"What?" This couldn't be real; it was too good to be real. Bellamy stood up and threw money on the table. He grabbed her hands, pulling her up to her feet before grabbing her face in between his hands.
"Wells is awake!"
Clarke let out a relieved laugh and smiled wide. "Oh my God! Oh my God, he is okay! He is alive." She laughed joyfully, unable to contain her relief. Pulling Bellamy into her, she held him tight.
He pulled away first, dragging her towards the door. "Come on, Princess. Lets go see the Prince."
She giggled but followed after Bellamy, never dropping his hand even after catching up to him.
It took everything in Clarke not to crush Wells into her chest the moment she saw him awake. If it weren't for the wound in his chest, she most definitely would have. Instead, Clarke settled for holding his hand tightly and kissing his cheek.
"I'm so glad you are okay. I'm so, so glad." Tears were back in her eyes but for the first time in days they weren't caused by grief.
Wells chuckled quietly. "Hey, don't cry."
"Don't you ever do that again. You can't scare me like that."
Wells just smiled up at her and squeezed her hand. "I'm glad you are here, Clarke."
"Me too," she said with a watery laugh. Wells seemed to notice Bellamy for the first time and gave him a slight nod.
"Glad you are okay, man."
"Thanks." He was clearly confused as to why Bellamy was there. Clarke quickly explained. "You didn't have to do that, Bellamy," Wells said when she was finished but the gratefulness in his voice spoke louder than his words.
"Yes I did."
Before anything else could be said, Thelonius burst into the room and ran to his son's side.
"Wells! Oh my boy, thank God!"
Soon Abby and Kane joined them in the hospital room while Bellamy slipped out into the hall. Hours later a nurse came in telling them that visiting hours were over.
The group all ate at Abby's house. While the older adults sat at the dining room table discussing the next steps for Wells, Clarke and Bellamy sat in the kitchen. Clarke didn't feel like dealing with her mom or talking logistics. She just wanted to relish in the fact that Wells was still alive.
"Good day, Princess?" Bellamy asked, his grin matching her own.
"Great day, old man." He chuckled and stole a strawberry from her plate.
Clarke spent almost the entire next day with Wells. She sat on his bed talking about anything and everything still immeasurably grateful that he was still in her life.
"So what is up with you and Bellamy?" Wells finally asked while he stared intently at the yellow jello on his hospital tray.
"What do you mean?"
Wells gave her a skeptical look. "You know what I mean, Clarke."
Clarke did but didn't want to address the subject she had been carefully avoiding. "I don't. He drove me here and has been helping me out if that's what you mean." She picked at the blanket on Wells' bed refusing to meet his eyes.
"Oh come on, Griffin. I saw you two when I was in Chicago and all I can say is that it is more than obvious you no longer hate each other. And now this? The man drove you all the way here and hasn't left your side all week. That isn't something that a housemate does, most friends wouldn't even do that. Drive you here maybe but not wait for hours in the hospital with you."
Clarke was suddenly frustrated, though she couldn't really figure out why. "Don't be an ass Wells," she snapped, instantly feeling bad about it.
He just laughed it off. "Why won't you just admit you like him?"
"It's complicated."
"Mhm."
"I live with him, Wells. If something went wrong then I would have to move out and I love the house, plus it isn't worth losing him or Octavia as friends. I'm not ready to date again anyways. After Finn… I just need time by myself for a while."
Wells nodded, his expression more serious in the face of her vulnerability.
"Anyways, enough about my nonexistent love life. Are there any lucky ladies in your life, Mr. Jaha? Any nurses perhaps?"
At three Bellamy knocked on the door and came in. Clarke knew it was time to go. They had agreed earlier in the week to leave that day and 4:00 in the afternoon was the latest they wanted to depart.
She nodded at Bellamy to let him know she understood before turning back to Wells.
"Time for you to go, huh, Griffin." She nodded tearfully. Wells pulled her down into a gentle embrace. "Hey, I'm okay. I'm going to be fine."
"I know… just be careful, okay?"
"I will. I promise." She nodded again, trying to brush her tears away. Wells grabbed her hand. "It was good to see you, Clarke."
"I'm glad you are okay."
"Me too."
"I was so worried-"
"Hey, that's over now, okay? I'm fine."
She nodded again and kissed him on the cheek before standing. "I'll call you tomorrow morning."
Wells smiled and nodded. "Goodbye, Clarke. Safe drive home."
"Bye, get better and call when you can."
"Will do Griffin. Look out for her, Bellamy."
"We both know she can handle herself, but I'll do my best."
Wells grinned in agreement.
Bellamy put his arm around Clarke's shoulders as they walked out of the hospital for the last time. He pulled her close and pressed a small kiss into her hair. Clarke couldn't help but think of Wells' words. That isn't something a housemate does.
They stopped at her mom's house to grab their bags and say goodbye to Abby.
Clarke hugged her mom awkwardly before grabbing her bags and heading towards the door. Abby nodded at Bellamy as he moved to join Clarke at the door.
"Please call more, Clarke. I know things aren't great between us but they can't improve without communication."
Clarke looked at the floor for a long moment before muttering, "Okay." Abby was right, after all.
The ride home couldn't be more different than the ride to Washington. Bellamy and Clarke joked around, making fun of the hick towns they passed through and arguing over radio stations.
When they finally pulled into the gravel drive, night had fallen heavily over Chicago. The lights were off in the house but for once Clarke was certain no surprise party awaited them.
Bellamy dropped their bags on the porch while he fumbled with the house keys. Before he could unlock the door, Clarke reached out and grabbed his hand, turning him towards her.
"Clarke-"
"Thank you. For everything. I couldn't have done this without you."
Bellamy looked at her intensely for a moment before nodding. A dog barked down the barren street causing him to turn his head. Impulsively, Clarke leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. The second before her lips touched his skin, Bellamy turned back to her. The question on his lips died as her lips touched his. They both froze in shock before jerking away from each other as if burned.
Clarke's hand flew up to her lips that still tingled with his warmth. She could feel her face flushing. Bellamy was breathing heavily staring at her with a strange look in his eyes.
Shit.
A/N: Hehe I bet y'all thought I actually was heartless enough to kill Wells. To be honest I played around with it but in the end couldn't bring myself to make Clarke's life any more sucky.
I loved writing about them in DC. I live just outside the city and its one of my favorite places to go. There is nothing like breakfast at Eastern Market and an afternoon in the Gallery.
Anyways, I hope y'all liked it and all the fluff I managed to throw in.
Thanks again for the comments :) Y'all at too sweet!