Chapter 56

It felt like it'd been an hour since Bellamy had told her the big news. But it'd probably been more like fifteen minutes. Clarke was still reeling. She'd barely moved since he'd told her, hadn't said anything. She couldn't. Each time she opened her mouth, she just ended up closing it again, because . . . it wasn't like Bellamy knew much more than she did. All he knew was what she now knew, that she was pregnant. Or . . . that she might be.

God. Finding out about a pregnancy would have been life-altering even if she and Bellamy had been . . . trying. But they hadn't been, and it had happened anyway. And she didn't feel ready for it, because she was only twenty-two years old, and she'd just graduated college a couple days ago and still had no idea what she was going to do with her life. How was she supposed to be someone's mother when she wasn't even all that good at being an adult yet?

Not to mention the fact that there was her and Bellamy's current relationship status to consider. To say that they were in a state of complete disarray definitely wasn't an exaggeration. Even if they had still been together, this development would have thrown them both for a loop. But it was even worse now that they'd . . . broken up or whatever. That wasn't even technically the right term for it, but she didn't know what else to call it. They weren't together, but they'd still made a baby together. So now she was pregnant.

Potentially. And that was really the darkest cloud hanging over this whole thing, the one part of it she was trying her hardest not to think about. Because she could let herself freak out over the fact that she was young and unprepared, and she could worry about how she and Bellamy were going to cope with this when they weren't even an actual couple. That stuff was normal. But she couldn't allow herself to sit there and dwell on the possibility that their child had died in that car crash, because that just wasn't normal. And when she let herself fear that, she imagined how afraid Bellamy must have felt given what he'd gone through and what he'd lost with Gina. And that was too much.

He stood at her bedside, as silent as she was. For some reason, she found it hard to even look at him right now, but she knew that, if she did, he'd either look like he was lost in thought or like he was just thinking and worrying about her. Seeing him either way would be utterly heartbreaking, so she just didn't look.

"How did you find out?" she finally asked, startled that she could actually hear the tears in her own voice.

It took him a few seconds to respond. "Oh, uh . . . they told me. Dr. Tsing told me," he said. "Right after you got out of surgery."

Surgery, she thought dismally. The word sank like a stone to the pit of her stomach, and she placed her hand over one of the small scars on the left side of her abdomen, feeling pangs of concern. She'd had a surgery, and she was pregnant.

"They did a blood test," he explained. "The other night when we came in after you fainted . . . one of the tests they ended up running was a pregnancy test, and it came back positive, so . . ."

Oh my god, she thought as a whole new worry flooded her mind. Even if this car crash wasn't fatal to the baby, what if something else was still wrong? Because she hadn't fainted in years, yet one week ago . . . she had. That wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

She wasn't about to voice her concern over that, but she knew Bellamy had to be worried about it, too. He just wasn't saying anything.

All of a sudden, the door swung open, and in came Dr. Tsing. "Hi, Clarke," she greeted almost cheerfully. "How are you?"

Clarke brought her hand up to her trembling lips and barely managed to shake her head.

"I told her," Bellamy revealed.

Dr. Tsing's chipper expression instantly changed into a more serious one. "Okay," she said calmly. "Then Clarke, you know that I can't give you any definite answers yet, right? I wish I could, but . . ." She trailed off and sighed. "Well, we're gonna hope for the best."

It almost seemed weird to hear a doctor say that. Hope was such an abstract concept. Weren't doctors supposed to rely on logic and facts and science? If Dr. Tsing was relying on hope, then maybe things were already looking really grim.

"I'll tell you what, though: You're so lucky to have this guy right here," Dr. Tsing said, motioning to Bellamy. "He's hardly left your side, and he's been so strong through all of this."

Clarke finally glanced over at Bellamy, but he met her eyes for only a second before looking down at his feet. I don't have him, she thought. But it wasn't Dr. Tsing's fault that she didn't know that.

"When can we find out if the baby's . . . okay?" Clarke asked fearfully. Sooner rather than later, she needed to know.

"We'll talk about that," Dr. Tsing said. She stood at the foot of Clarke's hospital bed and said, "First, I need to ask you a few questions. And I apologize in advance, because some of them are a little invasive, okay?"

Clarke nodded, figuring she had nothing to hide. For all she knew, she and Bellamy may have conceived this baby in public, so . . . to hell with being shy.

"Did you have any inclination you might be pregnant?" Dr. Tsing started in.

"No," she replied. She hadn't suspected anything. Although, looking back, there had definitely been some signs.

"Do you have any idea when this may have happened?" Dr. Tsing inquired.

Clarke shot a look a Bellamy, who just shrugged cluelessly. Trying to pinpoint the exact date of their conception was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. "I don't know," she answered. "We kinda . . . had sex a lot."

"Well, when was your last period?" Dr. Tsing asked. "Do you remember?"

She did, mostly because Bellamy had finally convinced her that it was okay to have period sex. "Probably about a month ago," she replied. "Maybe a little more."

"How much more?"

"Like five weeks?" That seemed like a reasonable estimation. It was hard to say for sure, though, especially when she'd been unconscious for two days and was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that it was Friday.

"Okay," Dr. Tsing said. "And were you two using protection of any kind?"

Clarke cast another sideways glance at Bellamy, a bit embarrassed that they hadn't been more careful. "Well, I'm on the pill," she said, "but I mean, I . . . I miss days once in a while. Just here and there." Just to clarify, she told him, "I didn't miss any on purpose. I wasn't trying to trap you, if that's what you're thinking."

"That's not what I was thinking," he assured her quietly.

"And what about condoms?" Dr. Tsing asked, mostly to Bellamy.

"Sporadic," he responded.

"Non-existent," Clarke corrected, giving him a look. It wasn't his fault; if she'd insisted he wear them, then he would have. But somewhere along the way, they'd just gotten so caught up in each other that condoms hadn't really been a priority anymore.

"Okay, Clarke, have you had any other symptoms then?" Dr. Tsing questioned. "Nausea, fatigue, changes in appetite?"

"Well . . ." Clarke thought back to Sunday night after her graduation, suddenly wondering if that had been more than she'd thought it was. "Last week, I got sick," she admitted.

"Meaning?"

"I threw up. But I thought I was just feeling sick to my stomach about . . . other things."

Bellamy lowered his head as if he were ashamed.

"And I kinda . . ." She cringed, wishing she could go back in time and make so many different decisions. "I didn't know, so I've gone out and . . . and I've been drinking," she confessed. "Just recreationally, but I got really drunk one night and threw up in the morning. I don't know if that was just a hangover or . . ." She trailed off, feeling frustrated with herself.

"What about when she fainted?" Bellamy jumped in. "Is that a symptom?"

"Not typically," Dr. Tsing said. "And I don't think that's cause for alarm, either. Of course I'd rather not have an expectant mother be fainting, especially during the first trimester, but her body's had to support two people instead of just one lately. That coupled with not eating and drinking much that day . . . I think that explains it."

"I've been feeling hungry lately," Clarke blurted. No cravings yet, but she thought of her barren refrigerator and kitchen cabinets and knew she might have to ask Raven to go pick her up some groceries before she got home from the hospital.

"Well, you've been eating for two, Clarke," Dr. Tsing said, smiling. "So that's normal."

Is anything about this normal? Clarke wondered. Nothing felt that way.

"Okay, just a few more questions," Dr. Tsing told her. "Please be honest here, okay? We need to know."

"Okay." She'd been nothing but honest so far, but she understood why the doctor prefaced her question with that once she actually asked it.

"How many sexual partners have you had in the past two months?"

"One," Clarke said, motioning to Bellamy. "Just him. For eight months."

"That's good," Dr. Tsing said. "And have you ever been pregnant before?"

"No." This was definitely a first for her. Though not a first for Bellamy.

"Alright. Thank you for answering all those questions," Dr. Tsing said kindly. "It just helps me further understand what we're dealing with here."

Now that she'd answered all the doctor's questions so obediently, Clarke again brought up the vitally important one she'd asked at the start of the conversation. "When can we find out if I'm still . . ." She didn't want to finish the sentence, and it wasn't necessary to.

"We're in a bit of a tough spot here," Dr. Tsing informed her. "We don't know quite how far along you are. It could be five weeks; it could be less than that. And it's hard to see a baby on an ultrasound, especially during a first pregnancy like this one, until the six-week point, if even then. So I would hate for us to do one, not see anything because it's too early, which I do believe would be the case, and for you to feel anxiety over that. Or depressive thoughts. That kind of stress isn't good for you or the baby when you're in a recovery period. Ultimately, your own well-being comes first."

"So you wanna wait?" Clarke surmised.

"Yes."

"Well, that makes me anxious, too."

"I know," Dr. Tsing said. "It's stressful either way."

"Couldn't we just do another pregnancy test?" Bellamy asked.

"It could very easily give you a false positive right now, so I wouldn't recommend it," Dr. Tsing advised. "I think we should wait a week, give you some time at home to recover, and then bring you back in for an ultrasound. Okay?"

Clarke sighed, figuring she didn't have much of a choice in the matter. "Okay," she said, resigning herself to a week of worry. It'd be the longest, hardest week of her life. And of Bellamy's.

"Thank you," he said to the doctor.

"I wish there was more I could do," she said. "I want you to take it easy and get some rest and relaxation, Clarke. That's the best thing you can be doing right now."

"Okay." That shouldn't have been too hard, not when she was basically confined to this one room and this one adjustable bed. Even if they released her tomorrow, like she was hoping, it wasn't like she had any classes or a job to get back to. She'd have plenty of time to rest. But she doubted she'd be able to relax at all.

"I'll leave you two alone," Dr. Tsing said, taking a few steps backward. "Just let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks," Clarke said. She managed to keep the tears at bay until the doctor left the room and shut the door. That was when they slipped out of the corners of her eyes, and she had to wipe them away.

"You okay?" Bellamy asked her.

"No." There was no point in lying. Of course she wasn't okay. She'd just found out she might or might not be pregnant, and she wasn't going to know for certain for at least another week. If she and Bellamy had a baby in her belly, then that was terrifying, but if they didn't . . . then that was devastating.

"Why didn't you tell me right when I woke up?" she demanded, unable to keep the accusation out of her voice. She'd been sitting there all morning talking and laughing with her friends, eating lunch with her mom, and she'd had no idea.

"Doctor told me not to," Bellamy replied. "Besides, at first I thought you already knew."

"Of course I didn't know!" she snapped. "I would've told you."

"Well, I didn't wanna overwhelm you, either," he explained.

"I'm overwhelmed." Even if he'd waited and told her days from now, she still would have felt the same.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just . . . did what I thought was right. I don't know what I'm doin', Clarke." He looked away, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache.

He seemed so tired, so stressed out in that moment, that she regretted lashing out at him. This was his baby, too, and it was just as hard for him to deal with this as it was for her.

"Who else knows?" she asked.

"No one," he replied. "Except Octavia. I told her. She probably told Lincoln."

Octavia? He'd told Octavia? Well, that was . . . good, she supposed. He'd managed to tell his sister. She actually felt quite proud of him for that, and it was a relief to know that he hadn't shouldered the burden of this knowledge entirely by himself for the past few days.

"Do you wanna tell everyone else?" he asked her. "Or should we wait until we know for sure . . ."

She thought of his baby with Gina and how he'd kept that a secret for such a long time. That hadn't been good for him to bottle everything up like that, to keep it all inside. Granted, being in this position herself now, she understood why he'd done it. But that didn't mean it was a healthy thing to do.

"I think we should tell them," she said. Right now, for the sake of this baby—if there even was one—she needed to do everything in her power to be as healthy as she could be.

...

When he sensed that Clarke needed a moment alone, Bellamy left the room. Truth be told, as much as he wanted to be there for her right now, be that shoulder she could lean on, he probably needed to go outside and get some air.

Before he'd made it outside, though, he collided with none other than his mom as he rounded the corner.

"Oh, Bellamy," she said.

"Mom? What're you doing here?"

"I took the afternoon off," she explained.

His eyebrows shot upward in surprise, because he couldn't remember the last time she'd done that.

"Well, I wanted to come check on you and Clarke," she said. "Is she up to having visitors now?"

"Uh . . ." He glanced back over his shoulder, down the hallway at the closed door to her hospital room. "I'm not sure."

"She's probably tired," his mother said. "I'm betting you are, too."

"Ah, I'm alright." He continued walking down the hall, and she followed him.

"So are you sleeping here again tonight?" she asked. "Or are you going home?"

"No, I'll sleep here," he decided, unable to suppress a yawn.

"And are they releasing her tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Maybe." He and his mother walked outside, and he was disappointed to see that it was gloomy, clouds all over the sky. He needed a good omen right now, some sunshine or something. At least the temperature was comfortable, though, so if she was willing to stand out there with him, he'd stand out there for a while.

He exhaled heavily, standing there with his hands on his hips, and debated whether or not to tell her. Clarke had told him she planned on telling her parents today, so . . . yeah, maybe he should do the same with his mom. It was just hard for him, though. Revealing something so huge and so uncertain . . . it was the exact opposite of what he'd done with the secret about his and Gina's baby. So it felt unnatural.

He'd told Clarke, though. And nothing could be harder than that. So maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

"Mom, I gotta tell you something," he started in. It wasn't like she'd be disappointed or anything. He was a grown man who did grown man things. Besides, Octavia was three years younger than him, and their mother hadn't jumped down her throat about getting pregnant.

"What is it, Bellamy?" she asked, sounding concerned. "Oh, you look so tired."

"I am," he admitted. "But listen . . ." It really didn't matter if he was tired or if he was stressed, because there was a girl in that hospital who needed him to be strong right now.

"Clarke's pregnant," he finally just blurted out. That was gonna be the way he told everyone, he decided, to just say it and let them react.

"She's . . ." His mom dissolved into excited, happy squeals and overjoyed laughter after that. She pulled him in for a hug and congratulated him and told him what amazing news this was . . . and then he had to crush her spirit.

"Well, she was," he amended. "We don't know if she is anymore."

His mother's happy smile immediately vanished, and she gasped. "Oh, no," she said. "Because of the accident?"

He nodded mutely.

"Oh, Bellamy . . ." She put one hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. "It'll all work out," she assured him.

"I don't know." He was trying to hope for the best, but . . . damn, it was hard.

"Well, Clarke woke up. That's the first step," she pointed out. "Now when will you know-"

"A week, maybe," he cut in. "Anyway . . ." He shrugged sadly. "I don't want you to stress out about it, but I wanted to tell you. And O already knows, so make sure she doesn't stress about it, either."

"Oh, she will," his mother said. "So will I. And I can't even begin to imagine what you and Clarke are feeling right now. But Bellamy . . . regardless of how anything turns out, you're a father." She smiled at him tearfully, getting choked up. "My baby girl's a mother, and my baby boy's a father." She reached up and stroked his cheek lovingly. "I couldn't be more proud."

He closed his eyes and hugged her again, feeling a familiar sense of comfort in her embrace. This woman had given birth to him at eighteen. She'd raised him all on her own, no help from anyone. She'd struggled and toiled for countless hours every day of his childhood, just to put food on the table. If she could be that strong of a mother to him, then he could be that strong of a father to his child.

For nearly twenty minutes, he sat outside with his mom, listening to her recall funny moments from when he and Octavia were babies. She told him about how someone had once mistake him for a girl because she'd dressed him in lavender and about how Octavia had chewed up the first stuffed animal toy anyone had ever given her. He sat there and listened, occasionally laughing, but often thinking about what kinds of memories he might be able to amass if he was allowed the chance to raise a son or daughter. He wanted to be . . . like a scrapbooking dad or something. Just taking tons of pictures and collecting them all in a book. And Clarke would probably draw and paint a lot of pictures of the baby. He wouldn't be her primary subject anymore. Not if they . . .

. . . not if they just had the chance.

When it started to rain, Bellamy and his mom went back inside, and he took her to see Clarke. Clarke managed to smile when she saw Aurora and hugged her as best she could from her hospital bed.

"I'm so glad you're gonna be alright," his mother said. "Please don't worry us like that again."

"I'll try not to," Clarke said. She glanced quickly at Bellamy, and he nodded, silently communicating that he'd done it. He'd told her.

"So . . . what do you think?" Clarke asked his mom.

"Oh, about . . .?" His mother trailed off and made a pregnant Bellamy motion with her hand. "I'm excited for you," she said. "And very hopeful."

"Really?"

"Really." Aurora smiled. "Some things are just meant to be, Clarke," she said. "And I think this is one of them."

Oh, god, please let that be true, Bellamy thought desperately. As sad as it was to think about, maybe he and Roma hadn't been meant to be, and maybe he and Gina and their baby hadn't been, either. But maybe he and Clarke and this baby . . . maybe they were.

Unfortunately, Clarke started to look like she wasn't feeling well about five minutes into Bellamy's mom's visit. She started to shift around on the bed, looking uncomfortable and a bit queasy, but she didn't say anything. Bellamy suggested that his mom leave, though, and she took the hint and did so.

"What's wrong?" he asked Clarke, helping her sit up.

"Ugh, I feel sick," she groaned, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She looked like she wanted to get up and go to the bathroom, but it didn't seem like she was going to make it when she clasped one hand over her mouth. So he ran and got a trash can and brought it over to her, barely making it in time as she lurched forward and vomited. Not a lot, but enough that it kind of grossed him out. But at the same time . . . it kind of gave him hope, too.

"That's disgusting," she said, handing the trash can back to him.

"That's a good sign, though, don't you think?" he pointed out. "You're nauseous."

"I had surgery," she reminded him as she reached for her glass of water and took a drink. "My mom said I could be nauseous for days."

Or you could be nauseous because you're pregnant, he thought. Because you're still pregnant.

"Not trying to be a downer," she said, settling back into the bed. "I just . . . I don't think we should automatically assume . . ."

"No, I get it." She was just being rational. Realistic.

Clarke groaned again when the door opened and her mom and stepdad came into the room.

"Oh, someone looks cranky," her mother remarked.

"She just got sick," Bellamy informed them. He made the mistake of looking down into that trash can and immediately wished he hadn't.

"I'm fine," Clarke insisted. "It's just kind of hard to get any rest when people are constantly coming in here."

"Well, we can leave," her stepfather offered, "if you wanna get some sleep."

"No, I wanna talk to you," she said, shooting Bellamy a quick look. Brief as it was, he knew what it meant: She was going to tell them the big news, just like he'd told his mom.

He knew Abby and Marcus were still pretty keen on him, even though he had broken up with Clarke, but that didn't mean he wanted to be around when she revealed to them that he'd gotten her pregnant. So he said, "I'll give you guys some space," and left the room with the trash can in hand. He ended up handing it off to one of the janitors, who said he'd take care of it.

He thought about wandering back over to the nursery, or perhaps finding his mom and sitting down to talk to her some more. But then he heard a chorus of familiar voices chiming out as they came down the hall, and he realized that his friends were back for the evening, just like they'd promised they would be.

"Bellagio!" Raven exclaimed, leading the pack of them. "How's our brave princess?"

"She's, uh . . ." Telling her mom she's pregnant, he filled in mentally. No way could he let any of their friends interrupt that.

"I got her something in the gift shop," Jasper said, holding up a small princess doll with curly blonde hair. "You think she'll like it?"

"Yeah, she'll love it," Bellamy said. "Uh . . ." He motioned for his friends to follow him as he walked away from Clarke's room. "She's with her mom," he said, "so let's go get somethin' to eat."

"Five star dining here we come," Murphy muttered sarcastically under his breath.

"Stop it," Emori said, nudging his ribs. "It could be worse."

As it turned out, according to Jackson, it couldn't be. Because the cafeteria was serving its excuse for chicken noodle soup that night, and Jackson told them straight up that it was the worst meal. Miller suggested that they go out and get some Chinese food instead, but Bellamy said he didn't want to leave the hospital. What he failed to mention was that he didn't want to leave specifically in case Abby and Marcus wanted to talk to him or grill him about the fact that he'd knocked their daughter up.

Everyone had so many questions for him. Harper wanted to know if Clarke had walked around much that day. Niylah asked if she was in good spirits. Jasper was still interested in finding out if her scar was gnarly. And Octavia didn't ask it, but he saw the look of questioning in her eyes: Had he told her she was pregnant yet? He figured one way of answering that question was to tell everyone else. It was the perfect opportunity, after all, since they were all there. He could say it once, to everyone, and spare Clarke having to do it.

"I still think we should do something for her once she comes home," Emori was saying when he decided to interrupt.

He cleared his throat and announced, "Uh, guys, there's . . . there's something I have to tell you."

"Sex change?" Murphy guessed.

He made a face. "No."

"Is Clarke moving back in with us?" Emori asked hopefully.

"I don't . . . I don't know." That was a conversation for tomorrow. Probably.

Harper gasped loudly and squealed, "Are you gonna marry her?"

"Harper!" Monty hissed, shooting his girlfriend a look. "They're not even together right now."

"Oh, please," she scoffed. "He hasn't left this hospital in three days."

"We're not . . . we're not getting married," Bellamy informed her. Not yet, anyway.

"Then what is it?" Raven asked from down at the other end of the table. "Is she pregnant or something?" She said it almost flippantly, and beside her, Roan smirked. But Bellamy just sat there, figuring he could say everything he needed to without saying anything at all.

His friends were unusually quiet for a few seconds until the realization dawned on all of them. Once Raven yelled, "Oh my god!" they all erupted into chaos. There were whoops and screams and shouts and squeals. Murphy spilled his soup and said, "Holy shit," and Jasper leapt up and started doing a celebratory happy dance. Maya began to cry, and Miller just stared at him in stunned amazement and shook his head. Bellamy heard them say everything from "I knew it," to "Congratulations, Big Papa!" And at one point, Emori boasted something about how she'd won the bet. Because apparently some of his friends had bet money on how long it would take for him to get Clarke pregnant.

Throughout it all, Octavia sat beside him, giving his hand a supportive and understanding squeeze beneath the table. The elation they were all currently feeling . . . she'd felt it for him, too, but it was mixed in with a cautious optimism now. Bellamy just sat there with her and waited for the gravity of the situation to sink in with everyone else.

Gradually, they calmed and quieted down, each one of them going from purely happy to majorly unsure in their own time. It took Jasper the longest, but when he noticed that he was celebrating by himself, he sat down slowly, his expression shifting into one of concern. Nobody said anything, but they all stared at him curiously and at each other unsurely. No one seemed to want to voice the obvious question, but finally, Miller assumed the role of mouthpiece of the group.

"Baby's gonna be alright," he said, "right?"

Bellamy heard several of the girls, in particular, inhale sharply, as though they were holding their breath while they waited for his answer.

"We don't know," he told them. "We'll see."

"You'll see?" Niylah echoed. "What does that mean?"

"We have to wait at least a week and then have an ultrasound," he said, shrugging dejectedly. "So we don't know."

All his friends suddenly looked . . . just slumped over with sadness. They stared down at their soup, eyes glazed over, and Bellamy felt the sympathy rolling off of them in waves.

"We didn't know until . . . all of this," he informed them, "so we broke up before we . . ." He trailed off, sighing. Yeah, everything was sort of a mess right now, and ultimately, he was the one responsible for making it that way.

"I don't know what's gonna happen," he admitted, looking around at all the happy faces that were now so sad.

You gotta be born, Bellamy thought, silently talking to his unborn son or daughter. It wasn't just Clarke and him who looked forward to meeting that child. It was all of them. That baby was gonna have so many aunts and uncles who would love it so much.

...

The news of this baby seemed to be getting a lot of different reactions. And Clarke managed all those reactions within the span of a couple hours.

Her mom cried a lot. She wasn't mad, she assured her. It just made her emotional to think that she could be a grandmother.

Her stepdad put a smile on his face and acted happy for her, but she knew that he was already fretting about what an unwed, pregnant stepdaughter would do to his political image.

Raven was upbeat and excited about the whole thing. She said she was going to be the cool aunt but that she would never take the kid to Uncle Roan's workplace.

Niylah joked around and claimed that she'd make an excellent godmother if neither Raven nor Octavia was up for the job.

Murphy and Emori already volunteered themselves for babysitting duty, though Murphy warned her he wasn't great with kids.

Harper suggested a litany of names, each one weirder than the last. Monty finally told her to stop talking.

Jasper cried profusely while Maya comforted him. He was blubbering so much that Clarke couldn't understand a word he was saying.

Miller and Jackson's congratulations touched her heart, because they told her that, even though it was scary, she should be grateful that she had the chance to have a child with someone she loved. They wished they had that opportunity with each other.

Octavia didn't come visit her, and Clarke suspected it was because she felt guilty about walking in there with such an obvious pregnant belly. But she hoped she and Lincoln would come visit tomorrow. She really wanted to know if they still wanted her to be their son's godmother.

Bellamy kind of stood at the door, letting one person in after another, and after visiting with every single one of her friends, Clarke felt exhausted. She managed to smile and thank them all for coming back up to see her tonight, managed to hold herself together even though she knew they were all worried and just trying to hide it.

Bellamy left the room when her mom came back in to say goodnight, but it wasn't a quick goodnight. Her departure was a long, drawn-out one that started with, "I just can't believe my baby's having a baby," and then transitioned to, "The human body has miraculous ways of protecting a child, you know, even after trauma." She started explaining the features of the womb in more detail than Clarke could even comprehend, and eventually it got to the point where Clarke had to cut her off and tell her to leave. "Mom?" she said. "No offense or anything, but . . . I kinda just need to be with Bellamy right now."

Disappointment flashed in her mother's eyes, but only for a second. "Of course," she said, leaning in to kiss Clarke's forehead. "Everything's gonna be fine, sweetie," she said. "I promise."

The words were meant to reassure her, but Clarke knew better than to blindly believe them. There was no guarantee. Her mom could make as many promises as she wanted to, but nothing about this was certain.

...

Bellamy sat out in the waiting room with Clarke's stepfather, waiting for Abby to come out. Once she left, he'd go back in, help Clarke get settled down and clear her mind for the night. It was getting late, and it seemed like she was getting tired. There had been someone in that room with her nearly all afternoon, whether it was a doctor or a family member or a friend. She probably needed a break. Maybe she even needed a break from him.

He supposed he'd find out.

"You know," Marcus said, clearing his throat, " I never had a child of my own. But I do think of Clarke as a daughter, and . . . well . . . I'd love to give my daughter away someday."

Bellamy smirked. That definitely wasn't a subtle hint. "I'd love to marry her," he said. Now that Clarke was awake again and he was no longer in denial about his own feelings, it was hard not to picture a future with her. "One step at a time, though," he said, trying not to get ahead of himself. "We're not even together anymore." For all he knew, Clarke no longer wanted him.

"Oh, you are," Marcus said. "You might not be dating, but you're still together. And I'm thankful for that. I know Abby is, too."

"She is?"

"Yes." Marcus sighed and said, "It's a wonderful thing to see Clarke loved, you know. And we know you'll love your child the same way."

Bellamy nodded, determined to be the best damn father he could be. If he just got the opportunity. "My dad . . . he was . . . he was never around," he admitted, still a tad resentful over that fact. "I don't know who he is; I don't know anything about him. So I don't wanna be like that. I wanna be . . . better."

Marcus smiled at him encouragingly and said, "You already are."

emAm I?/em Bellamy wondered, not so sure. If that baby didn't come into the world, would he ever really get the chance to prove what kind of a father he could be? He'd been a lousy boyfriend, that was for sure. He had to redeem himself somehow, by being there for Clarke and the baby now.

Abby sighed dramatically as she joined them in the waiting room. "Oh, what a day," she said, digging her fingers through her hair.

"Are we heading home?" her husband asked her.

"Yes." She came to stand in front of Bellamy, and feeling like she expected him to stand, too, he rose to his feet.

Much to his surprise, she hugged him and whispered, "Congratulations." It was the first time she'd really gotten to address him since Clarke had dropped the baby bombshell, and . . . God, it was such a relief that she wasn't mad.

"Take care of her tonight," Abby told him, releasing him from the hug. "Please."

Bellamy nodded as she and Marcus left hand in hand. I will, he thought, sensing how hard it was for her to let go of her daughter like this. He'd take care of her every night from here on out. If she let him.

...

Turning to the side, Clarke examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She pulled the hospital gown tighter against her stomach, squinting to see if she could notice any kind of telltale roundness or maybe even just a little extra weight.

She didn't. Not yet. And maybe she never would.

The mere thought made her feel like throwing up again.

When she padded out of the bathroom, she found Bellamy in her room again, standing with his back to her, looking out the window as it rained outside. He was so lost in thought, he didn't even hear her come out. Not until she took too large of a step and whimpered when she felt a small ache in her left side.

"Clarke?" he said, at her side in seconds. "Here, I got you." He bent down like he was about to lift her up and carry her again, but she pushed him away slightly, determined to do it herself. Physically, she could be a lot worse; she didn't really hurt that much. Emotionally . . . well, that was a whole different story.

Hunched over and holding her left side, she hobbled towards the bed, barely making it back into it before her knees buckled underneath her. She got back under the covers, concealing her flat stomach, trying to think about something other than the tiny, microscopic little person that might or might not still be forming in there. There were other things she could have thought about—how amazing her friends were, how unbelievably encouraging her mom was being, how lucky she was to even be alive—but how could she think about any of those things when there was this huge, life-changing other thing to think about? No matter how it turned out, it'd stay with her for the rest of her life.

She turned away from Bellamy and started to cry. She couldn't help it. With every single one of their friends and his mom and her mom, she'd tried so hard to hold herself together. But now that it was just him . . . she broke.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said, scrambling around to the other side of the bed. "What's wrong?"

Did he really have to ask that? She swung her head to the other side, looking away again.

"Clarke, please," he begged. "Talk to me."

The strangled sob that rose up from low in her throat was the only sound she could muster. A couple months ago, she'd begged him to talk to her about why he'd started shaking uncontrollably at night. And he had.

"Hey, look at me." He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to turn and face him. "I'm right here," he said. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Oh, she knew that. He was definitely there, and regardless of what he may have said or done last week, regardless of how much his rejection had hurt, he was still very much the same man she'd fallen so madly in love with. It didn't matter if he felt the same about her or not, because he would be there for her throughout this pregnancy and beyond. That wasn't in question.

Whether or not there would even be a pregnancy . . . that was.

"What if I'm not strong enough?" she fretted as the tears continued to pour from her eyes.

"You are," he said, smoothing his hand over her hair. "You're so strong."

"I don't feel strong; I feel weak," she cried. "I don't wanna be the reason why you lose another baby." She almost couldn't even fathom what that would do to herself, because she was so worried about what it would do to him.

"Clarke . . ." He frowned sadly, sitting down on the side of the bed. She scooted over a bit, making room for him as he lay down next to her; and when she felt his arms around her, she just started to cry harder. Because it'd been a week since he'd held her close like this, and in that moment, she was so grateful for it. Grateful for him. For the way that she could clutch at his arms and shoulders desperately without feeling totally pathetic. For the way her tears could soak through his shirt and he wouldn't complain.

She wasn't sure when she stopped crying that night, or if she even did, but eventually, she fell asleep, comforted by the knowledge that, while the storm continued to build and rage outside, she could spend all night in his warm arms. She'd held him like this once, during a night when he really needed her. And now he was holding her.