Chapter 14
Connor hadn't uttered a syllable since they got in the car. He sat up front, in between the two adults staring out through the windshield window with wide eyes.
Bellamy came up with the bright idea to take Octavia's pick-up tuck. Clarke might have wanted to go to the beach, but Bellamy insisted that they might as well stay out past dark to star gaze. The beach was good, but camping out under the night sky was even better.
Clarke and Bellamy exchanged amused glances as they observed the boy in their midst. He was so excited he was at a loss for words. The kid's eyes were nearly twinkling as he swung his feet in his seat.
"Calm down, little man. Or you're going to rock the whole car over," Bellamy joked, glancing down at his son.
Connor just beamed in response. His toothy grin was a familiar sight by now. He had warmed to his previously estranged father. But after a few weeks after entering his life, Bellamy had managed to gain some territory.
"Come on, Bellamy," Clarke chastised, pushing her sunglasses up so they rested atop her head, "He's just excited. I told you he'd love going to the beach." She smiled with satisfaction, basking in being right "Better than being cooped up in that stuffy garage, right Connor?"
Connor's head bobbed back and forth between them.
"Connor, don't answer her," he warned playfully, before leaning over a bit while still keeping his eyes on the road, "You can't make your old man look bad."
Clarke laughed, reaching over the boy and gently shoving the man in the arm, "You don't need his help for that."
He glanced back over at her, grinning. He was happier now. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled so much.
She found herself beaming back at him, only to force her line of vision away to her right.
They were getting so good at this act that it didn't feel like pretending anymore. The way she would unconsciously lean on his shoulder, or the way he would let his gaze linger a bit too long and a little too deeply—this was becoming more real, whether or not they cared to admit it.
Bellamy cleared his throat under his breath, bringing his attention back to the open road. There was hardly any traffic, even though it was the middle of the day. They were heading to this idyllic little place along the coast that Monty and Jasper had suggested.
The other couple had spent last weekend there and immediately suggested it to Clarke. It was private, with hardly anyone else crowded around. It would be nice to escape from prying eyes.
Bellamy took one look at the map and insisted that he didn't need a map for directions. He took pride in being able to find their destination on his own, even if the sentiment earned him an exasperated eye-roll from a certain blonde.
"Are we almost there yet?" Connor whispered, his eyes still round with anticipation.
"Almost, kiddo." Clarke answered, putting her hand on his dark head of hair.
Around ten minutes later, they arrived. The smell of salt in the air wafted through their open windows, and the sun shone even brighter than before. The wind by the water was stronger, but surprisingly gentle as well.
Bellamy parked off the street with another path leading them in close to the beach.
Bellamy grabbed the cooler and a couple of bags from the trunk and Clarke took the rest of their belongings as Connor jumped out of the vehicle and headed right off into the direction of the water. He was ecstatic.
He hadn't seen the ocean since his mother had become ill.
"Hey, slow down!" Clarke yelled after the boy, obviously concerned. She could only glare as Bellamy just laughed at his son's antics. Kids would be kids; there was no use in micromanaging from his standpoint.
The man shrugged casually, before nodding at Clarke and mock saluting her. "Understood, Captain," he said, then picking up his pace to chase after Connor.
The water today was this deep, rich, blue. There were rocks further out, but the ocean spread infinitely out to the horizon. True to Monty's claims, the place was all but deserted. Not another soul was in sight. It was just the three of them there, and it was so peaceful.
The sound of crashing waves against the sand was almost rhythmic.
Bellamy set down the things he'd been carrying, chasing his son into the water. He tore off his shirt before calling out, "Whoa, kid. You're going to give Clarke a heart-attack if you go off on your own like that."
Connor was smiling ear-to-ear, wiggling his toes in the wet sand. He'd stopped to stand in the water at his knees, closing his eyes briefly to take in everything around him.
A gleeful squeal escaped his mouth as he felt Bellamy reach around his stomach and lift him in the air. He was laughing as Bellamy hauled him horizontally back to the shore.
Clarke had her hands on her hips, waiting as the other man brought back the child in his arms. She tried to remain stoic, disapproving, but her eyes betrayed her.
She watched proudly. Connor had really taken to Bellamy recently. While the boy almost always ran to greet her first, he would almost always move to greet his father next. He was more talkative when they discussed cars and bikes, with Bellamy always secretly promising to take him out on the road whenever Clarke wasn't looking.
"I've brought you your prisoner, Captain Griffin," Bellamy reported with faux stiffness, setting his captive down on the sand in front of her feet. Connor rolled over on his back, looking up at her with a goofy smile on his face.
"Ha ha," she let out sarcastically, "Very funny, you two. But safety is a serious thing, you understand me? Don't blame me when the both of you wander out to sea without stretching, or sunscreen, or—"
She didn't get a chance to finish her lecture, when Bellamy and Connor leapt toward her in apparent coordination. She screamed as Bellamy swung her over one shoulder, ignoring her obvious protest and kicking. Connor ran after them, laughing as he watched them go into the water.
Bellamy ran far into the ocean, up to his shoulders, before he let her go. Clarke dunked all the way into the water, getting her clothes and her hair wet. By the time she resurfaced, Bellamy was thankful that looks couldn't kill.
The glare across her light features was threatening to say the least.
She'd told him earlier that morning she wasn't really a fan of swimming. She'd learned when she was a young kid, but she preferred walking along the shoreline and sunbathing. Collecting sea glass and sea shells were more her forte than athletic endeavors.
She should have known he was scheming when she spotted the smile on the corner of his mouth.
"You are dead, Blake," she spit out the saltwater from her mouth, "So dead," she repeated before jumping and tackling him into the water.
They played together, the three of them. When Bellamy couldn't escape Clarke's wrath, he resorted to using his own son as a human shield. There was a lot of splashing and a lot of laughing.
By the time they got out of the water, they were all starved. Lunch had passed a few hours ago, but they never really got a chance to eat anything.
When Clarke brought out the sandwiches she'd made earlier in the kitchen, Bellamy just shrugged. He handed one to Connor before grabbing one for himself. They sat in a small circle on the dry sand, Clarke and Connor wrapped in one big towel.
But when Bellamy took a bite, he nearly spit the food out at once. He coughed it out, eyeing Clarke who looked at him suspiciously.
She'd mentioned she didn't really know how to cook. Sandwiches should have been a safe bet. How she managed to mess them up, he had no idea. He was about to stop Connor from taking a bite but was too late.
Connor froze mid-bite, looking to his father. They held their gaze together, both wary of the woman in their presence. Careful not to insult her culinary skills that were clearly a work-in-progress, Bellamy quickly snatched the uneaten sandwich from his son's hands and hid it behind his back in the brief moment Clarke had turned away to grab a water bottle.
It was all a good effort to hide their distaste for her food, but Bellamy couldn't stop her from eating her own sandwich. She did manage to spit the food out in one go.
She took a whack at him, "Why didn't you tell me it wasn't good?" she demanded.
He laughed, dodging her fist, "It wasn't that bad, was it Connor?"
They turned their attention to the boy, whose mouth was wide open. He looked at them, slowly shaking his head.
Clarke couldn't stifle her own giggle then. She wrapped her arms around Connor, covering him with the beach towel that was around both of their shoulders, shaking him dry playfully. "You're one sweet kid, you know that?"
Connor smiled.
The sun was somehow hanging low to the horizon, large but setting, turning the sky this beautiful organish pink.
"Hey, kid," Bellamy tilted his head down a bit, "Want to go get us some real food from the cooler?" Luckily, Bellamy had added some more snacks before they left the house. Connor nodded obediently, standing up and running over to the cooler that was set down on the sand about a hundred feet away.
Clarke kept her eyes on the boy, never letting him out of her sight. She was always so cautious with him, she couldn't help it. He was vulnerable. He deserved someone to look after him the way he needed.
Bellamy loved his son, but he took a more laidback stance. He could sense Connor's maturity beyond mere precociousness. Connor was smart, he was sensitive. He would grow up to be a better man than Bellamy had ever hoped to be.
Bellamy took a seat next to Clarke in the short moment that Connor had gotten up. He eyed her wet t-shirt and shorts.
"I guess I should've waited until you stripped off to dunk you in the water, huh?"
She elbowed him in the ribs, satisfied as he feigned a flinch. She didn't want to admit that those rigid abs probably diminished any pain she tried to inflict on him.
"Admit it, Bellamy,"
He looked at her from the side, not realizing he was looking at her with an incomparable admiration.
She leaned in close, so that her lips nearly touched the nape of his neck, "You like the beach," she whispered under her breath.
He let out a breath, sighing to himself with a smile. "Yeah, alright Griffin. You win. I like the beach."
It was true, because he did enjoy the beach. But it was also true that he would enjoy being anywhere with her and Connor.
She gloated a bit, puffing out her chest.
"What if we just stayed here?" the thought just came out. It was an unintentional question, but an honest one.
Her eyebrows pulled over her eyes, "What do you mean?"
"What if we just picked Connor up, took him and didn't look back. Take him and just have him to ourselves, the two of us."
She paused, swallowing hard, "I love Connor," she admitted, "and maybe I could live a life on the run, putting up with you and spending time with that amazing kid," then she stopped herself, "But we both know that you, Bellamy Blake, won't run from anything. You slay your demons head on, no matter what happens."
He chuckled, shaking his head at the stupidly simple notion of up and taking Connor away. Things would be so much easier. Living with his son, living with Clarke. All of it just felt too good to be true.
And as the half of their agreement was rearing its head, he knew all too well that it was indeed to good to truly last.
"Yeah," he gave in, "You're right."
She shifted her weight so she bumped into him, "Tell me about it," she joked.
Connor came back, with a bag of chips and a couple of red apples under his arm.
"Ah, our savior," Bellamy remarked, catching one of the apples Connor threw.
They sat together, huddled close, just talking to each other. The sun wasn't so intense, but they managed to dry off. Clarke used to feel guarded around Bellamy, but in this context, she felt comfortable enough to not care what she looked like. Her messy curls with salt water were knotting at her neck, but she didn't both to comb them out.
She was wearing her shorts, but changed into one of the sweatshirts Bellamy had in the truck.
"You think there are fish out there?" Connor asked the two adults.
They both shared a knowing look, "There sure are, buddy."
"So, can we go fishing? I mean, with real gear and equipment next time?"
They both laughed, "Of course, kid. Next time I'll take you out."
"What about you, Clarke?" he looked at the light-haired woman. "Will you come with us too?"
She felt a small stab to her chest. "I'd love to," it was an easy answer, but one she knew one day she'd have to stop giving.
They talked for a few more hours before the sun had disappeared along the horizon and was replaced by a very full moon. They were in a rural area, so the stars were even brighter than any one of them could remember seeing.
Bellamy drove the truck through the path and onto the sandy beach, up and away from the shore to avoid high tide. They gathered some blankets, comforters, and pillows that had been packed earlier and set them up in the bed of the truck.
Connor was immediately thrilled with this new fort and dove onto their new sleeping area.
Bellamy shot Clarke a knowing look. After that night he'd kissed her, he'd promise to sleep away from her. Of course, nothing short of innocent would happen with Connor in their midst. But still, the close proximity could bring something up.
The attraction between them was still strong. He didn't say it, and neither did she. But both of them could sense it, enough that they had to consciously avoid it. Bellamy might flirt every now and then, but he never committed to anything.
Connor was their first priority.
They all lay down in the bed of the truck, as Bellamy pointed up at the stars above them.
Clarke was impressed by his extensive knowledge about each constellation. It turned out that he was an amateur stargazer, having taken to the hobby as a kid.
Bellamy never liked school all that much growing up, but he did like astronomy. There was something so interesting about the infinite and expansive unknown. Things up there were bigger than anything he or any other man could conjure up.
Connor was a fast learner, picking up the information quickly.
"At home, we won't be able to see them this clearly," Bellamy explained, "So next time, I can take you out again to get a better look. Maybe we can go camping,"
Clarke shot him a disbelieving look. Bellamy was a city boy through and through, "When did you ever go camping?"
He just smirked, before returning his gaze up at the dark sky, "There are still things you don't know about me, Clarke,"
Connor was the first one to fall asleep. Clarke had packed a single bottle of red wine, and pulled it out as soon as she was sure the boy had knocked out.
"You're a genius," Bellamy complimented as he took the first swig out of the bottle.
He handed it back over to the blonde, "I have my moments," she admitted teasingly.
They kept talking softly, careful not to wake Connor who remained in deep slumber.
"No way," she laughed, covering her mouth with the back of her forearm to keep relatively quiet, "They made you go hiking?"
Bellamy nodded, "They shacked a bunch of us teenage delinquents up in the mountains for a month and made us survive on our own. Up on this remote park upstate."
"Did it turn out like the Lord of the Flies?" she eyed him coyly.
He scoffed. His six months in a juvenile correctional facility at sixteen wasn't the fondest of memories he liked to relive. But if he was sharing it with anyone, he was glad it was with her. Besides, he liked hearing the sound of her laugh.
It was light—it made him want to laugh too.
"Not quite," he denied, "But it whipped me into shape after that. I was beat straight at that point, no more delinquency in me. By the time I got out, I knew I didn't want to cause any more unnecessary trouble."
She still had the nearly empty bottle of wine in her right hand, "I thought you said you were still a 'bad-boy.'"
He shrugged, reaching over across Connor to take the bottle from her. "Alright, I think you've had enough for one night."
He leaned over, setting up a pillow as he helped her lay down. He pulled a blanket over her form, watching her curl up next to Connor.
She had her eyes closed, but she still shifted around. Bellamy sat up, one elbow on his knee as he looked down at her.
He kept a watchful eye on the both of them, realizing only then how much he liked having the two of them there. Safe and sound, he felt like he could protect these two people who meant so much to him.
"I would do it, you know," her voice whispered, half-asleep.
He glanced down at her again, seeing her eyes still closed.
"Yeah?" he played along.
"I would," she affirmed again, "I'd run away with you and Connor, never looking back. In a heartbeat."
The alcohol was definitely helping her do the talking, but the sincerity behind her words was all her own.
He chuckled, before turning his head toward the midnight sky above them. "I wish we could, Princess. I wish we could."
-p-
They took Connor home the next morning, as Emily dictated.
Yet another week passed, and she was beginning to warm back up to Bellamy and Clarke.
But at the same time, Emily's condition was swiftly deteriorating. Her vitals continued to fluctuate, and her energy drained. She stopped having Connor come visit her in the hospital everyday, as she didn't want her son to see her like this. Emily had spent her short life making sure that she was strong enough to take care of Connor. But now she was looking all that strength, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Connor wasn't any normal kid, and he could see the difficulty and strain behind his mother's smiles. He grew quieter, holding onto Emily's hand whenever he was around. Watching her sleep was the most terrifying, because he was all too scared that she would never wake up.
Clarke had been assigned as additional detail to take care of Emily's case, as per the patient's demands.
"Hey, Emily," Clarke greeted softly as she entered the room, now filled with many bouquets of flowers. Customarily as a doctor, she would have asked, 'how are you feeling?', but abstained. This patient was a personal one.
So instead, she commented, "It looks like you have a few admirers," she gestured to the bundles of flowers surrounding the other girl.
Emily let out a dry laugh, "Yeah, I guess you could call him that," she paused, hesitating before continuing, "They're from John, John Murphy."
It took everything in Clarke not to twist her face in disgust at his name. The memory of him bumping into her car and the wounds he'd inflicted on Bellamy were still fresh in her mind. After all, it had only been around less than a month since then.
Bellamy never brought up Murphy again, probably to avoid any conflict.
"He's not the monster you think he is," Emily reasoned weakly, her voice breaking as she struggled to sit up. Clarke rushed to her side, holding the pillow behind her back, "Murphy and Bellamy used to be more similar than you can imagine."
Clarke didn't respond, so Emily just continued.
She gazed upon these yellow tulips set up in a vase at her bedside, "It's just that Bellamy found the courage to leave all of it behind, to get out. Murphy just stayed, probably because of me."
Emily was growing more reflective these days. She could sense the end growing nearer. It was bad enough that she would have to die young, it was even more horrible to know for months and months that she would have to die so soon.
The nostalgia hit her. She gestured toward a stool, "Please, take a seat."
"I need to take your vitals," Clarke reminded.
"Yeah," Emily swallowed, extending her arm out, "Go ahead."
Navigating around with a few of instruments, she pulled one out and wrapped it around the other woman's wrist.
"I forgive Bellamy, you know," she said quietly, staring at Clarke who was attempting to concentrate on the menial task at hand, "I forgive him for leaving me. And I suppose I can forgive him for leaving Connor too."
The words slipped out naturally, "Bellamy never left Connor on purpose," she defended instinctively, "He thought it was for the best."
Emily just laid back, staring out at nothing in particular, "That's the trouble with men," she breathed in dramatically, "They all say they think it's for the best."
Clarke looked back down.
She couldn't very well argue with a dying woman, especially as she looked down at her records on the clipboard. She blinked twice, looking back up from the paper to the woman in front of her.
Indeed, Emily was a terminal patient.
But that three month deadline another doctor had provided was running out faster than anticipated.
End Chapter 14
A/N: Thank you so much for all your support and help for this story! I've been busier recently, but I am trying my best to update as often as I can. As always, please leave a review if you would like me to continue.