A/N:

#1) I MIGHT have made myself cry while writing this...possibly multiple times.

Sorry?

#2) I kept hearing Chasing Cars in my head while writing the first scene.

So, sorry again.


Clarke vaguely heard Bellamy's alarm going off, but she didn't really wake up until he rolled over to shut it off, because he had to disentangle himself from her to do it.

By the time he rolled back over, her eyes were open and she was looking up at him.

"Hi," she whispered.

"Hi," he returned, voice just as quiet, his eyes already looking a little melancholy as they searched hers.

Clarke studied him, her head resting on the pillow just a few inches from his, and she could already tell how much he was dreading what today would hold.

She scooted forward, pressing her lips gently to his, her hand on the side of his face.

His hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer as he returned her kiss.

She'd dreamed about kissing him good morning…she'd had to talk herself out of doing it almost every time she'd woken up in his arms. It was just as intimate and wonderful and soul-shattering as she'd always imagined, but she'd give anything for it to be under different circumstances.

Her soul shattered a little bit more as she pulled away, when she realized that was probably the only time she'd ever get to experience what it felt like to wake up and kiss the love of your life good morning.

She pulled back just a little, just enough to look at him, finding him looking a little lost. "It's going to be okay, Bell," she promised, her thumb rubbing his cheek. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but it will be. Today will suck…but you'll get through it, and then each day after that will be a little easier. I promise."

He looked unconvinced, his gaze still locked on hers as his hand remained tight on her waist, and she knew he wanted her…needed her…but was afraid to make the first move.

She moved her hand to the back of his head, pulling him toward her gently as she rolled onto her back. "It's okay, Bell," she whispered.

He leaned forward, moving over her a little as he kissed her softly, hesitantly.

She ran her fingers through his hair as she kissed him back, pouring every bit of love and compassion and reassurance into it that she possibly could.

He broke the kiss, his lips moving along her cheek until he buried his face in her neck.

Clarke kept her hand in his hair, holding him to her.

"If we just stayed here…the world would keep going without us, right? Today's going to happen whether I'm there or not," he said huskily, his lips moving against her skin as he said it. "Can we just stay here? Like this?"

Clarke's heart cracked a little more, because she'd give anything to make that happen, for so many reasons.

She tightened her arms around him, pressing a kiss into his hair.

He tensed noticeably against her, as if he'd just realized what he'd asked her. He abruptly pulled away, not quite meeting her eyes. "Sorry, I don't know what I was thinking," he mumbled, getting out of bed.

Clarke blinked rapidly, trying to process his about-face. She sat up, scooting toward the edge of the bed and reaching for him before he could get too far. She grabbed his arm. "Bellamy, stop."

He did, but didn't turn around.

"Sit," she said, pulling on his arm.

He sighed, stepping back and sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her.

She huffed a little, wrapping her arms around his chest from behind and pressing her body firmly against his back.

His hands slowly came up to rest on her arms.

"We can do anything you want, Bellamy," she told him quietly.

Clarke was having a bit of an internal struggle, because she knew Bellamy thought he'd made her uncomfortable, but she'd wanted to respond with something along the lines of 'I'd love to stay in your bed, wrapped in your arms for the rest of eternity,' but knew that was too far beyond this invisible line they'd set for themselves.

Honestly, she was having trouble figuring out what was too much and what wasn't enough anymore.

Her instincts were simultaneously telling her to make love to him until he forgot everything but her…and to do everything in her power to make this time as simple on him as possible by keeping things comfortable and easy between them.

She went with some sort of combination of the two, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around him and pressing a kiss just behind his ear.

He fidgeted a little at the contact, then sighed. "I guess I have to go, don't I?"

She moved forward a little, nudging his temple with her nose. "A few hours…then we can come back here, yeah?"

He nodded, but neither of them moved.

"You going to stay wrapped around me like a monkey the whole day?" he asked, and there was a slight teasing quality to his voice that let Clarke know he was going to be okay.

"Maybe," she answered a little playfully. "You think it would help?"

"Probably."

They stayed there, allowing themselves a quiet moment to prepare for the chaos and heartbreak they knew the day would bring.

She leaned forward, her cheek against his. "I love you," she whispered.

He turned his head, nose nudging her cheek as he breathed her in. "I love you too, Clarke."


Ten forty-five found them in the office at the cemetery, having just finished up with the preacher and the funeral director. They'd gone through a short run down of what the graveside service would entail and given the Reverend the bible passages and a poem Bellamy wanted him to read.

The Reverend had left a few moments before, to prepare, and the funeral director was just on his way out now, leaving Bellamy and Clarke alone for a moment before the funeral started.

"Oh, excuse me," the man said, turning around in the doorway. "Do you have any idea how many flowers we'll need?"

"Flowers?" Bellamy asked, frowning.

"For after the service…for the guests to place on the coffin…"

"Oh," Bellamy looked at Clarke, obviously not sure. "I don't know…"

"They'll be here," Clarke said quietly, referring to their friends.

Bellamy nodded, although he still looked a little uncertain. He paused, trying to count how many people he thought would show up. "Half a dozen?"

"Bell…" Clarke began.

"Oh, I forgot Mom's cousin. No more than seven or eight, probably," he told the funeral director.

The older man nodded, leaving them alone.

Clarke stepped in front of Bellamy, straightening his tie in a gesture that was meant mostly to calm them both. The funny thing was, she could remember her mom doing the same thing for her dad on countless occasions, and it left an odd little flutter in her stomach.

She placed her hands on his shoulders. "It's going to be okay," she promised.

He held her gaze, his eyes sad but steady, not panicking. "I know."

She nodded, pressing a gentle peck to his lips before moving to his side and sliding her hand into his.

He squeezed her hand, leading them out of the office and outside, to the beautifully tended graveyard.

They rounded the corner, heading toward where his mother's grave was going to be, and Bellamy paused, almost stopping in his tracks when he saw everyone already gathered around the plot.

Clarke just smiled at him, tugging on his hand to keep him moving, leading him over to where the usual suspects were gathered with some people Bellamy clearly hadn't expected.

Jasper, Monty, Bryan, and Miller were all grouped together, chatting, while Miller's father and Raven were standing a little apart from them, obviously trying to create a bridge between their group and Abby, who was standing a little awkwardly to the side. An older woman Clarke didn't recognize was already sitting in one of the chairs, and Murphy was standing under a group of trees, not talking to three guys Clarke didn't recognize.

As soon as Clarke and Bellamy got close to the grave, the Reverend appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and asked everyone to have a seat so he could get started.

Clarke nodded at her mom, then took the seat in the front row beside Bellamy, her hand still clenched tightly in his.

The Reverend started speaking, doing a prayer, then reading from the Bible, and Clarke started to tune it all out. She got a little lost, staring at the coffin and the headstones around her, and suddenly she was a child again, burying her best friend, and then she was a teenager, burying her father.

A few tears trailed down her cheeks, unbidden and pretty much unnoticed by her, but they didn't go unnoticed by someone else.

Bellamy pulled her hand onto his leg, holding it in both of his as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You okay?" he whispered.

She nodded, wanting to tell him to stop worrying about her, that she was the one supposed to be taking care of him today, but she didn't want to disrupt the service any more than she already had.

Bellamy, however, leaned closer to her, barely whispering, "I told you we should've stayed in bed," in her ear.

Clarke turned her head into his shoulder, trying to hide the snort that escaped her.

They both settled back into their seats, although he kept her hand firmly grasped in both of his.

Clarke reached up with her free hand, trying to discreetly wipe her eyes, when she felt a hand fall on her shoulder.

Looking back, she realized her mom was sitting behind her, squeezing her shoulder as she gave her a sympathetic look, her eyes also wet.

Clarke nodded at her in understanding, squeezing her hand before she turned back around.

The service went on for a few more minutes, and it wasn't until the Reverend started the 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust' part that she felt Bellamy stiffen beside her, his breathing changing as he tried to hold it together.

Clarke turned toward him a little, curling her free hand around his bicep in the closest thing to a hug she could manage at the moment.

She caught his teary gaze, trying to steady him with their connection. "It's okay," she mouthed.

He held her gaze for a few more seconds, nodding before facing the preacher again.

The ceremony ended a few minutes later, the Reverend giving a final blessing before telling everyone that they should pay their respects to the family, then the deceased.

Clarke stood when Bellamy did, standing a little off to the side so everyone could walk past them on their way up to the coffin. Clarke knew she wasn't family, so technically she should be in the line with everyone else, and maybe if Octavia were here, she would've been, but as things stood, she wasn't about to let Bellamy stand up there alone.

Bellamy seemed to have the same thoughts she did, since he hadn't released her hand yet.

The first person that came to them was the woman Clarke didn't know. She was probably mid-60's, with greying brown hair and wearing a long black dress. She hugged Bellamy a little awkwardly, then stepped back, wringing her purse strap in her hands.

"No Octavia?" she asked.

Bellamy shook his head. "She lives in California now."

The woman nodded, not seeming too surprised by the information.

Bellamy took Clarke's hand again, turning toward her a little. "Annabelle, this is…Clarke," he said, stumbling a little over how to introduce her. "Clarke, this is my mom's cousin, Annabelle. She's the one who took Octavia in after Mom got sick."

Clarke released Bellamy's hand to shake Annabelle's. "It's nice to meet you," she said sincerely.

Octavia and Bellamy rarely mentioned the women, but they never really spoke badly of her. Apparently, she hadn't been the best nurturer or emotional support system to Octavia, but she had provided for her and kept her safe, which was more than many would have done.

"Bellamy, I barely even knew Aurora…I wasn't even aware she'd had children until CPS contacted me after her fall."

Bellamy nodded, not really sure where she was going with this.

"I think about the two of you a lot…now that I'm older. I was never meant to be a mother...but I tried to take care of Octavia the best I could…"

"I know," Bellamy said, and he didn't seem to harbor any ill will. "I'll always be grateful you took her in instead of letting her go into the foster system."

Annabelle nodded, but she grasped his hand, "I often think about it now…and I wish I'd been able to take you too. I should've tried harder…" she finished, and it seemed like something that had been weighing on her for a while.

Bellamy squeezed her hand. "It's okay. Everything turned out the way it was supposed to."

Annabelle nodded again, her gaze going to Clarke. "I'm glad you found a nice girl. You deserve to be happy."

Clarke waited for Bellamy to correct her, but he didn't.

Instead, he said, "The next time I'm over in Roanoke…why don't we have lunch?"

"I'd like that," she replied, patting his arm. "I'm sorry for your loss, dear," she said before moving up to the coffin, murmuring a few words before placing a rose on top and then heading toward the gravel pathway, where everyone had parked their cars.

Clarke glanced at the pile of roses, noticing that someone had discreetly added a handful more, accommodating for the extra guests.

The group of men that Clarke didn't know made their way up next, Murphy lagging just a few steps behind.

Bellamy introduced the three of them to her as his co-workers, and they expressed their condolences and gave Bellamy awkward one-armed hugs before they respectfully made their way past the coffin.

Murphy moved up, standing in front of Bellamy and Clarke. "Listen, I know how much this sucks, okay? I'm sorry."

And he said it all a little awkwardly…almost with an air of defiance…but Clarke believed him nonetheless.

Bellamy studied him for a minute, then nodded. "Thanks for coming, Murphy."

Murphy nodded, then backed away, nodding at Clarke as he turned in the opposite direction, going out without walking past the coffin, and Clarke almost laughed at the absurdity of it all…although it also seemed kind of fitting. None of these people, except maybe Annabelle, were here for Aurora…they were all here for Bellamy.

It warmed Clarke's heart to know that he had so many good people that cared about him.

Abby was the next one to come up, and she immediately reached for Clarke.

Clarke went into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"You okay, honey?" Abby asked.

Clarke nodded as she pulled back. "You?"

Abby nodded, smiling tightly at her daughter before she moved over a few inches to hug Bellamy. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Bellamy."

Bellamy patted her back a little awkwardly. "Thank you. I had no idea you would be here."

Abby pulled back, shrugging a little as she glanced at Clarke, then back at Bellamy. "It seemed important."

Clarke touched her arm. "Thanks, Mom."

Abby nodded, then looked up at Bellamy again. "If there's anything I can do…let me know," she told him, squeezing his arm before she made her way up to the coffin, bowing her head respectfully before she placed a rose on top.

David Miller was next, and Clarke saw the love and the respect that existed between the two men, and she realized that he was probably the closest thing to a parent Bellamy had ever had.

The rest of their friends were next, Raven, Jasper, and Monty all hitting like a whirlwind, trying to be sedate and respectful, but also hugging the dickens out of both Bellamy and Clarke and insisting they wanted to do something nice, like take them out to dinner.

Bryan snuck into the conversation at some point, feeling a bit out of place, but determined to express his sympathy to his new friend, who also happened to be his new boyfriend's best friend.

That group eventually moved along, laying roses on the coffin on their way out, which left only Miller.

He stepped forward, hugging Bellamy…this time, a real hug, not one of those one-armed-slap-you-on-the-back things.

"I'm sorry about your mom," he told his best friend of over a decade.

Bellamy nodded. "Thanks, Miller."

Miller turned his gaze to Clarke, wrapping her in a hug. "Thanks for taking care of him," he said, and he didn't even try to keep Bellamy from hearing.

Clarke waited until Miller pulled away to nod her response. "Always," she told him.

It was almost as if some sort of silent communication passed between them…where Miller officially turned the "biggest supporter of Bellamy Blake" title over to her…and she officially accepted it, promising that she'd live up to his expectations.

Miller nodded, slapping Bellamy on the arm before he started backing away. "You need anything…you call me or Dad, okay? Anything."

Bellamy nodded his thanks.

Clarke watched as Miller placed a rose on the coffin, then headed toward the pickup his dad and Bryan were standing beside.

Clarke turned to Bellamy, squeezing his hand tightly in hers. "Take as long as you need, okay?"

He nodded, although he seemed reluctant to let her go.

Clarke walked the few steps to the coffin, knowing Bellamy was right behind her and would hear everything she was going to say, and maybe that was for the best.

She picked up a rose, then stared down at the polished wood in front of her.

"I think…in another life…you and I would have been friends. I'm sad that we didn't get to know each other in this one. I know…things weren't easy…but you're a part of both of my best friends…so I know that parts of you had to be special," Clarke took a breath, gazing down at the rose in her hands. "Your son…" she shook her head. "I don't know if you really got a chance to see the man he's become…but he's amazing. He's kind and compassionate and generous and loyal to a fault. He's just so…good. He's such a good person. Sometimes, he's the only thing that reminds me that there's good left in this world. I'm not sure if it's because of you…in opposition to you…or in spite of you…but he's the best man I know…and he's probably the best thing that's ever happened to me. So, thank you for giving me the chance to have him in my life. I'll always be grateful to you for that."

Clarke wiped away her tears with her left hand before setting the rose gently on the coffin with her right. "I'm sorry you lost your way. I hope wherever you are now…you find peace."

She made her way on slightly shaky legs toward a bench near the pathway. She didn't look back until she reached it, and when she did, she found Bellamy standing where she'd left him, his gaze still on her, his face a little shocked by what she'd said.

She smiled gently at him before she sat down, facing the other way.

Her mom, who was the only one still lingering by her car, made her way over to join her daughter on the bench.

"How are you really, sweetheart? I know this can't be easy on you," Abby said, her hand on Clarke's back.

Clarke shrugged. "I had a moment there…during the funeral…thinking about Wells and Dad. But I got through it, thanks to Bellamy," she laughed a little at the absurdity of it. "His mom's funeral and he has to comfort me."

Abby just kept rubbing her back. "What did you say a few minutes ago when you were at the grave? He stared after you for the longest time…"

Clarke shrugged. "I told her what an amazing man her son became and thanked her for bringing him into the world and giving me the chance to have him in my life. And that I was sorry she lost her way and hoped she could find peace now."

Abby was silent, which made Clarke turn to look at her, and she found her with tears in her eyes.

"Mom?"

"My little girl isn't a little girl anymore," Abby said, her voice a little choked.

Clarke frowned. "I've been an adult for a few years now…"

Abby shook her head. "Oh, I know you've been more mature than most adults since you were a child. Losing your best friend, losing your father…putting up with everything you put up with your teenage years…I know you were forced to grow up too soon, and I'm so so sorry for that," Abby said adamantly, squeezing Clarke's hand. "But I think there's another level of maturity that some people never reach. It's when you stop being selfish…when you put someone else first for the first time in your life: their happiness, their pain, their comfort…when you care more about them than you do yourself. That takes a kind of selflessness not everyone reaches. I saw that today…from both of you."

Clarke just stared at her mom in surprise, not sure how to respond.

"Have you told each other how you feel yet?" Abby prodded gently.

Clarke shook her head. "It's not…now's not the time. I'm just trying to get him through this, and then I'll deal with…how I feel about him."

Abby smiled sadly. "See? Selflessness. And from everything I've seen, he does the same for you. That's not a kind of love everyone gets to experience, Clarke. Just don't wait too long, okay?"

Clarke nodded as Abby stood up, glancing behind her.

"I'll leave you two alone. I meant what I said, if either of you need anything, call me."

"Thanks for coming today, Mom."

Abby nodded to Clarke, then waved at Bellamy, who was slowly making his way toward them, before she walked the few feet to her car.

Bellamy joined Clarke on the bench just as Abby's taillights disappeared over a knoll.

Clarke turned to look at him, finding him mostly in one piece, but with red-rimmed eyes.

She took his hand in hers. "Asking if you're okay would be stupid, right?" she asked quietly.

He shrugged.

She used his hand to pull him closer, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He hugged her back fiercely for a few minutes before he murmured, "Can we go? I don't want to be here anymore."

"Yeah, of course," she replied, leading him over to her car and getting in.

He seemed to breathe a little easier once they were in the car and a lot easier once they'd made it out of the cemetery and Clarke had pulled over on the mostly deserted road just outside the cemetery gates.

She put the car in park, reaching for his hand. "What do you want to do?"

He shrugged, looking out the windshield.

"Back to your place?" she asked, trying to ask if he wanted to spend the rest of the day cuddled up in bed with her, like he'd wanted this morning. Honestly, she'd be pretty happy with that plan.

He shrugged again.

"The guys are up for whatever if you feel like seeing them. They wanted to take you to dinner or something," she reminded him.

"Not right now," he replied, squeezing her hand. "Just…you."

Clarke's heart simultaneously broke and almost pounded of her chest at this heartbroken boy…her heartbroken boy…admitting that she was the only one he wanted to be around right now.

She turned toward him more. "I have somewhere I want to take you," she told him. "I'm not sure if you'll like it or want to do it…and if not, we can turn around and go home, okay? Just trust me?"

His gaze finally met hers as he nodded.

Clarke turned back into her seat correctly, pulling out onto the road and heading back into town, hoping like hell that her idea would end up making him feel better…not worse.