Chapter 12: I Heard You Miss Me
Chapter Summary
A heartfelt reunion between two very special people.
Chapter Notes
I'm thinking about doing a chapter or section from Alex's POV, but that might be farther down the line. I'd have to have some unique conversations with my own daughter (upon whom Clarke's daughter is based) to get a feel for how Alex's voice would be as a narrator. It's been a long time since I was 7. I based the Alex + Bellamy texts on the texts my kid sends my friends. They aren't typical for 7-year olds, but neither my daughter, nor Clarke's, could be described as "typical."
I was going to end this chapter with Clarke+Bellamy sexy time, but it just felt too weird to put it in the same chapter as Bellamy's emotional reunion with a 7-year old.
Bellamy POV:
I still can't believe this past weekend happened. I want to say that I knew all along that Clarke and I would end up together, but I can't take credit for something I honestly had given up on. For breakfast this morning, I'm finishing off the scones that Clarke and I had made over the weekend. Truthfully, I made them and Clarke helped. And by "helped," I mean that she distracted the fuck out of me. The scones are a little bit crisp, since I couldn't hear the oven timer go off over her screams. Clarke may be many things, but quiet during sex is not one of them. Eating our sex-interrupted scones is reminding me of this weekend, and that is really not what I need to deal with before going into work…
My phone chimes. It's a somewhat creepy text from an unknown number.
Unknown Number:
I heard you miss me.
Bellamy Blake:
Uh, who is this
Unknown Number:
I think you forgot a question mark at the end of that.
Bellamy Blake:
okay, who is this? ? ?
Unknown Number:
You only need one question mark.
And, you should capitalize the first word of a sentence.
Bellamy Blake:
Thanks grammar police
Unknown Number:
Do you have something against punctuation?
Bellamy Blake:
what the fuck
Unknown Number:
Is that a question?
Bellamy Blake:
Who the fuck is this?
Unknown Number:
Look! You made a complete sentence. Good job.
And this is Alex Griffin-Findlay
Bellamy Blake:
Alex ! ! !
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
You only need one exclamation point.
But, I like the sentiment.
Bellamy Blake:
You text really fast
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
"Quickly" would be my word choice (over "fast").
Bellamy Blake:
So does it annoy you when people butcher the English language?
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
Not really.
If I let that get to me, I would be annoyed all the time.
I'm just giving you pointers.
Bellamy Blake:
Your mom just texted me to let me know you have my number
She's a little behind
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
I work quickly.
Bellamy Blake:
Don't tell her I said the F-word
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
She'll know eventually.
She put an app on my phone that logs my texts.
You'll owe money to the swear jar.
Bellamy Blake:
You have a swear jar?
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
Mom fills it up.
Bellamy Blake:
I believe that.
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
So do you miss me?
Bellamy Blake:
More than you know, kiddo.
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
I miss you, too.
Bellamy Blake:
I can't believe you are texting me
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
You sound like a grown up
I've heard that before.
But I'm 7.
Bellamy Blake:
Or 1 and 3/4
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
You're still doing that?
Bellamy Blake:
Doing what?
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
When I turned 4, you kept telling me I was 1.
Because I have a leap year birthday.
Bellamy Blake:
Haha, you used to get so mad about that
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
I KNOW
Bellamy Blake:
I'll probably never stop
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
I figured.
Bellamy Blake:
When did you get so smart?
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
I've always been smart.
Bellamy Blake:
You have
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
Mom says smart people are a dime a dozen.
She says she wants me to be a good person.
Bellamy Blake:
She does say that
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
I have to go soon. We are almost at school.
I have to turn off my phone or the principal will take it again.
Bellamy Blake:
Its good hearing from you
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
It's good hearing from you, too.
And I assume you meant to type "it's" instead of "its."
They mean two different things.
"It's" is a contraction for "it is" or "it has."
"Its" is a possessive form of "it" ("The cat lost its fur.").
Bellamy Blake:
Poor cat
Thanks for the grammar lesson kiddo
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
Commas matter.
For example: "Let's eat, kids" would be a horrible sentence without a comma.
Bellamy Blake:
Ha – yeah it would. Unless you think eating kids is cool.
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
That sentence is missing a comma, as well.
I have to go now.
I'm at school.
Bellamy Blake:
Be good. Don't scare anyone.
Alex Griffin-Findlay:
Same to you.
Holy fucking shit. I just got my ass verbally handed to me, repeatedly, by a seven year old. I'm not surprised that Clarke Griffin's daughter would be a perfectionist. I am surprised that knows all that shit at age seven. I'm tempted to go back and pick apart her texts and find a mistake, but somehow, I don't think that would get me too far with Alex. Not if she's anything like Clarke, and I think she is.
Ten minutes later, I get a text from Clarke. At some point over the weekend, Clarke told me she'd send dirty texts. The girl fucking delivered. I can't believe I have to go through the entire fucking work day plagued with images of Clarke tied up and blowing me. I say "plagued" because I will probably be in actual pain with a raging boner at some point.
At 6:55 PM, I arrive at Clarke's apartment building. She's a doctor, so I thought it'd be some sort of ritzy building in the nice part of town. It's not the worst area of the city, and the building isn't terrifying or anything, I just guessed that it would be more "showy" or something. I buzz their apartment number. After not receiving an answer, I buzz again.
"Can I help you?" The voice coming over the intercom is very clearly a child's, but it is straining to sound older than it is.
"Alex?"
"Who is this?"
"It's Bellamy."
I get 45 seconds of silence before the door clicks.
I get to the apartment door and knock on it. No answer. I wonder if Clarke is paying me back for making her wait at my door last weekend. Then, through the door I hear something being drug across the floor, making me wince at the possible damage to the surface. Whatever it is, it bumps the door as well. Then, there's the dragging sound again as it is being pulled away from the door.
When the door opens (I hear two deadbolts disengage, despite seeing four actual locks on the door), a miniature Clarke is standing there, staring at me quizzically.
"How did you know where I live?" She narrows her eyes slightly and cocks her head to the side.
I chuckle, "Your mom told me. She invited me for dinner."
"She didn't tell me about it. And she's not home yet." She's still looking at me suspiciously, not completely satisfied with my answer.
I pull out my phone to show her the texts. "Here, look."
She takes the phone out of my hands and inspects it. I'm praying she doesn't scroll up too far, or Clarke will fucking kill me. She furrows her brows while tapping the screen a few times. She must sense my unease, since she pipes up, "Relax, I'm just making sure it's actually her number on the other end." She cracks a crooked grin, which turns into a stunning smile. She is a spitting image of Clarke.
I feel my face smiling back as I crouch down to be closer to her eye level, and before I realize what's happening, Alex launches into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and squeezing surprisingly hard. It takes a second, but I reciprocate fully, wrapping my arms around her small body. Her grip does not weaken as she sinks her forehead into the crook of my shoulder and neck. I feel little tears fall onto my skin and I try to lean my head back so I can look at her face, but she just squeezes tighter, not letting me pull away. I stand up with her still in my arms, maintaining my grip on her with one hand and picking up the bag of take-out in the other.
"Is it alright if we go inside?"
She nods her little head wordlessly, but I hear a sniffle and my heart breaks. I walk through the door and close it behind us. As I start to lock it, she quickly says in a shaky voice, "Only lock the middle one and bottom one."
"Okay, done. Why only those?"
"So that if someone tries to break in by reversing all of them, they'll still be locking themselves out." She states it like it's obvious, her voice already returning to normal.
"Got it. But wouldn't a lock-picker realize that the unlocked ones are already unlocked?"
"No, half of them have a reverse mechanism. Watch." She pries herself out of my arms and goes back over to the door to demonstrate that two of them do, in fact, require one to rotate the knob the opposite direction to engage the lock.
"Wait, but there are only four locks outside, but five on the inside."
"The top one can only be unlocked from the inside. And mom and I rotate which locks we use every week, so that they all have even wear and tear, because it would be pretty obvious if two of them were all shiny and new-looking."
I take a step back and nod my head, "Impressive. Doesn't that get confusing?"
She smirks and rolls her eyes in a very Clarke-like manner, "No."
I laugh and shake my head, "Of course it doesn't."
She nods at the bag in my hand, "Is that dinner?"
"Yup. I picked it up down the street."
"I hope you mean that you got it from a restaurant and not from someone in the street." She gives me a knowing look and lop-sided grin. This kid likes to mess with me, and I'm loving it.
"The vagrant promised he didn't get any of his fleas into the tofu."
She laughs loudly, then she excitedly says, "Tofu? I LOVE tofu!" She accents the second syllable of 'tofu' and the verbal flourish somehow makes a gross soybean paste sound elegant.
"No kid likes tofu. You're weird." I ruffle her hair and she ducks out of my hold to grab the takeout bag and starts walking to what I assume is the kitchen.
She calls over her shoulder, "Hello pot, I'm kettle."
"You think you're funny, huh?" I ask her as I follow her into the kitchen.
"Sure, tell yourself that I'm joking." She smirks again as she puts the bag on the counter. She points at a cabinet and tells me to get down two plates while she grabs silverware out of a drawer.
We sit down at the table and dig in. She samples everything I brought before deciding on two of the entrees. "Thanks for bringing dinner. I guess mom told you I'm vegetarian?"
"She said that, yeah."
"That was thoughtful. So thanks."
"No problem, kid. Where is your mom?"
She shrugs, "She had an emergency C-section, so she'll be late."
"Ah. She's a hard worker."
She looks thoughtfully at me, then nods, "Yeah."
"Does it bum you out?"
She shrugs again, "Eh, it's not as bad as it used to be. She is usually home early, but sometimes stuff happens. I used to get mad because I didn't get to see her as much as other kids get to see their moms, but Dad says she's saving babies."
"Yeah, she is."
"That's important. I'm proud of my mom. And like I said, she's usually home early. She hasn't missed dinner in a while. And she has always made it to the big things. Like the play we put on this year. She was there. And my swim meets and soccer games." She doesn't have even a hint of resentment in her voice. It was always Clarke's fear that her child would hate her for having such a shitty work schedule. I'm glad to see that, at least at this point, that fear is unfounded.
Alex continued, "This is the last year of her fellowship. She is going to be part of a private practice starting this August, so by the time I start second grade, things will be a little better."
"That's something to look forward to."
She smiles big and nods before taking another mouthful of food.
We keep talking through dinner. She tells me about her day at school and I learn that girl politics are really fucking complicated in first grade. It doesn't seem like much time has passed, but at 8:15, she informs me that it's her bedtime.
"If I don't get to bed by 8:30, I will have a crappy morning."
"Well I don't want you to have a crappy morning."
I gather up the dishes and take them into the kitchen. Alex comes into the kitchen behind me with our cups. She is quiet for a minute while I rinse the plates and put them in the dishwasher.
"Bellamy?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you read me a bedtime story?"
"Sure. Go get ready for bed and pick out a story. I'm going to put together a plate for your mom."
She flashes a wide smile, "Okay, my room is down that hall, past the bathroom." Then she skips away and I hear her singing.
After I'm done in the kitchen, I go to her room. The door is open, but I knock anyway.
"That took you long enough." She grins at me. Her hands are working on taming her wild curls into a braid.
"Did you brush your teeth and all that?"
"Yup. See?" She opens her mouth and sticks her tongue out, as if that's supposed to be evidence of tooth brushing. A simple 'yes' or 'no' would have sufficed, but her gestures crack me up.
"Alright. Did you pick out a story?"
"Yup," she says as she crawls under the covers and scoots over, patting the spot next to her, imploring me to sit down.
Alex produces a well-worn book, an anthology of stories, Myths Every Child Should Know. I remember the book. I gave it to her. I can't help but smile when I see the worn pages, evidence of its frequent readings. I look on the inside cover and read the inscription.
To Alex on her 4th birthday.
"Hope spiritualizes earth;
Hope makes it always new;
and, even in the earth's best and brightest aspect,
Hope shows it to be only the shadow of an infinite bliss hereafter!"
No matter what troubles come into the world,
Always have hope, Alex
-Bellamy
The quote is from "The Paradise of Children," Hawthorne's interpretation of Pandora opening her infamous box. It's got a happy ending of sorts. While the box contained all sorts of "troubles" in the world, it also contained "Hope," a gentle creature who would follow behind the troubles and soothe the stings caused by the troubles.
My heart clenches a little when I run my fingers over the inscription, and I notice the child-sized fingerprints and smudges. I can picture Alex running her tiny fingers over the words. I used to do the same thing with the inscription on a book my mother gave to me. I would run my fingers over it, as if I could feel her presence through the handwriting. I wonder if Alex was thinking of me when she did it.
She peeks over at the book and sees me looking at the inscription. "Can you read that story?"
I hear my voice crack a little, "Yeah, that's a good one." Alex curls up into my side as I turn to the beginning page.
She falls asleep about ten pages in, but I keep reading for another couple of pages. I read the rest of the story to myself silently while Alex is fast asleep next to me. I close the book and look down at the little girl curled up next to me, a spitting image of Clarke. Gazing at Alex, I remember Clarke's words from the other night, 'I became a mother, and I'm so incredibly proud of that. I get why. I mean, I could understand why any mom would feel that way, but Alex is an extraordinary child.
I catch movement in the corner of my eye. I see Clarke, leaning against the open door frame, arms wrapped around herself. She smiles at me and gives me a small wave while she straightens herself up and starts walking toward Alex's bed. I feel myself smiling back at her, a thrill in my chest. When she reaches the bed, she leans down and plants a solid kiss on my lips. I bring my hand up to her cheek and hold her there, not deepening the kiss, just prolonging the moment. I break the kiss, leaning my head back to look at her and she has a sincere smile on her face.
"Hi." Clarke whispers softly. I nod in reply as I brush my thumb across her cheekbone. I kiss her again, chastely, before dropping my hand from her cheek. She glances down at Alex and nods toward Alex's pillow. I carefully extricate myself from Alex's sleepy grip and Clarke seamlessly swoops down to guide her head down to the pillow as I climb out of the bed. Somehow we achieve this without waking the child. Clarke pulls the covers over Alex's sleeping form and closes her eyes as she plants a kiss on her forehead. Alex sleepily mumbles, "G'night mommy." Clarke replies against her skin, "Goodnight baby girl."
Clarke and I walk into the hallway, closing the door behind us. She leads us toward the living room, but before we reach the end of the hallway, she stops and turns around to face me.
She puts a hand on my chest and looks me in the eye with a smile in her own. "Thank you. For that."
I pull her close to me so I can give her a proper kiss. She wraps her arms around my waist, anchoring me to her. I bring my hands to cup her face. She sweeps her tongue across my lips and I open them to let her in. I break the kiss momentarily, "I've been wanting to do that all damn day."
"That's all you wanted to do?" She smirks at me teasingly.
"Don't tease me, woman…" My hands make their way to her hips and grip them hard as I push her against the wall. I dip my head back down to kiss her again. Deepening the kiss, I press my thumbs to her chin, encouraging her jaw to open farther for me. She complies beautifully, and as I push my entire body harder against her we both groan loudly in unison. Realizing we are only a few feet away from a sleeping child's door, we both freeze and look at each other, then at the door. After about thirty seconds of no sounds or movement coming from Alex's room we both take a deep breath in relief. She catches my eyes and I can't look away.
"There's a plate for you in the fridge." I nod my head toward the kitchen but can't break my gaze from Clarke.
She smiles, "That was thoughtful of you."
"I aim to please."
"Yes. You certainly do."
I give her hips a quick squeeze with my hands and pull away from her. I push her toward the kitchen and follow her in. She grabs her food out of the fridge and pops it in the microwave to heat it up. I step behind her and lean against the counter behind us. She pivots to her right and leans sideways into me with a sigh. I wrap my arms around her, rubbing circles into the skin above her elbow, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
"I get it," I break the silence.
"You get what?" She's looking up at me, confused.
"Why you left. Why you had to get away."
She just nods, silently.
"I thought I understood it before, but seeing her tonight, I get why you would do anything for her."
"I always will." She gives me a sad smile.
"She's proud of you, you know."
Clarke's eyes dart up to mine. "How do you know?"
"She told me."
"She said that?"
I nodded. "She said lots of things. She's proud that you save babies."
Clarke quirks a smile. "I feel like I missed a lot. I hate that I missed dinner. I've missed so many dinners already."
"She didn't say anything about that. She told me about how you always make it to her games. She said you were in the audience of her first grade play. She doesn't count your absences, Clarke."
Clarke leans back against me. "I love her. More than anything."
"She knows that. She loves you, too."
We share a smile. The moment is interrupted by the microwave beeping.
She groans, "I'm starving."
I look at her suggestively, "Eat up. Dessert is waiting."
Chapter End Notes
Up next: Bellamy+Clarke smut. Just all smut.
As always, REVIEWS are much appreciated!