Bellamy sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for his head to stop pounding. What the hell had he gotten himself into last night?

Murphy and Miller were sprawled out on the floor, covered in bath towels with balled up sweatshirts wedged under their heads. Octavia and Harper were on the spare bed, with Octavia more off the bed than on. Her face was smashed into the edge of the mattress, one arm and and one leg dangling towards the floor. There were soft voices filtering through the open bathroom door.

Bellamy had a guess as to who was talking, but wanted to check that he was right. And see the girl the voice belonged to. Only, he could barely sit upright without the room spinning, so walking was out of the question right now.

"Hey, you're up." The voice came from beside him now, but turning his head proved to be a challenge too. "Easy," Clarke urged.

"Goodmorning," he croaked hoarsely.

"Rough night, eh Alex?"

"You could say that." He reached up to rub his hand down his face before braving the wave of nausea to shift and face Clarke.

She perched on the corner of his bed, one leg tucked beneath her. She had showered and changed since he last remembered seeing her. The face paint and adorable braids were gone, replaced by an oversized Oregon State sweatshirt and tired expression.

When she met his eyes, he saw that she looked more than just tired; she looked exhausted and a bit unsettled. Immediately, Bellamy felt concern rise in him. What had happened last night? The last thing he remembered, she had been giggling with Raven as the wave of inebriation had rolled over him.

Before Bellamy could ask Clarke what was wrong, she asked him. "So, what do you remember?"

"Most of it," he lied.

Clarke smirked, "Really?"

"Mm hmm."

"Okay then. You'll be pleased to know that I haven't shared your secret with anyone, just like you asked," Clarke chirped.

"My what?" Bellamy asked, knowing he'd shot himself in the foot on this one.

"Oh, you know, the one you told me last night."

Bellamy had quite a few secrets, but no memory of sharing any of them. He tried to sound offhand while he asked, "What was it about, again?"

"You remember," Clarke said, standing up.

Bellamy groaned, abandoning the topic. "Wait, stay here."

Clarke turned over her shoulder from where she had crouched beside Miller, making sure he was still breathing.

"Where's Raven and Jasper and Monty?"

"We hauled Jasper and Monty into their beds, and Raven just went upstairs so she could get some sleep. D'you need something?"

"Yeah, actually. I need you to tell me what's troubling you," he said quietly, feeling bad as Clarke's head snapped up, her face darkening.

"Is it really that obvious?" Clarke returned and sat on her hands on the edge of the bed, crossing her ankles.

"To me it is," Bellamy said, watching her shoulders slump further. "So, what is it, Princess?"

Clarke took a long moment before she responded. "Well, as you remember, Raven and I didn't get drunk so we could watch out for all you goons. You'd all fallen asleep and we were sitting there...and she started talking. She started talking about...Finn."

Clarke took a shuddering breath and Bellamy couldn't remember a time when she'd said his name aloud. It was something she avoided.

"She was saying some stuff and teasing me, but then she started to talk about him, about how they started dating and how they were going through a rough patch or something. She was opening up and talking...and IーI tried, I really did but, I don't think I kept a straight face. I think she saw something in my expression."

Bellamy sat still, listening quietly as Clarke trudged through her explanation, feeling guilty that he'd made her retell this.

"And, she asked meーasked me if I knew something about Finn, something about why he was acting like he is. And I- oh Bellamy I was this close to telling her," Clarke whispered, looking up for the first time, her eyes telling all the emotion of the moment like a playback button on a film.

"I was going to. I was going to tell her. But the words…they just got stuck in my mouth. And now, well, she knows something's up, and I think she's got the wrong impression. I don't know what to do." Clarke sniffled as she swallowed down the emotion in her throat. Bellamy reached out for her and she hesitated only a second before leaning into his arm.

"It's okay. It's okay that you couldn't say it then, but hey, maybe this is a good thing, in a way," he soothed, putting a spin on the situation.

"A good thing?"

"Yeah, in a way. Because now you have an in to tell her, you know? So it doesn't seem so out of the blue. She's primed now, because she's already expecting something."

"She's not expecting that."

"Probably not, but she's expecting something bad. So it's not as harsh of a jump, see? It's just a few degrees worse than what she's expecting, not a freefall."

Clarke nodded into his shoulder and Bellamy felt better, for both of them. He had wanted Clarke to tell Raven from the beginning and now she had incentive to do it.

Even though they had been whispering the whole time, Clarke still pushed away from Bellamy and did a quick scan of the room, ensuring everyone was still asleep. She nodded a little bit and wiped her nose and eyes on the inside collar of her sweatshirt.

"Okay?" Bellamy asked, watching her.

She gave him a tight lipped smile. "Okay."

"Now, can you tell me about what I said last night?"

Clarke cracked a smile. Mission accomplished. "No way. It'll be a surprise for a later date."

"I don't like the sound of that."

Clarke only smiled sweetly. "How are you feeling?"

"You know, been better, been worse," he said vaguely. In truth, he felt like shit, although his vertigo had decreased significantly. Whatever Jasper and Monty were doing, they knew how to do it.

"Oh! I have something for you," Clarke said, hopping off the bed. She returned a few moments later with a plastic cup of water and four red ibuprofen pills.

"For your headache," she said.

Bellamy readily accepted, knocking back the pills. "Thanks."

"Of course," she said. "I have just enough ibuprofen left for everyone."

"Perfect."

"Yeah, I'll need to go to CVS to get more before…"

"Before what?" Bellamy asked. Clarke was making her thinking face for a moment, then she counted on her fingers, her frown deepening.

"What is it?" He asked, sensing the shift in her.

"What day is it?" she whispered.

"Uh, Sunday?"

"No, the number. Is it the seventh?"

"Eighth," he corrected.

Clarke was still for one beat, then she leapt off the bed like the thing had caught fire, scrambling to grab her phone from where it was plugged into the wall by the desk. She squatted on the floor, typing furiously on it.

"What's wrong? Forget your mom's birthday or something?" Bellamy called gently.

Clarke's face was ashen.

"I'm late," she breathed. In one quick movement she was on her feet and on her way out the door.

"Late for what?" Bellamy called as the door slammed.

"The hell," Murphy groaned from the floor, flopping over.

Bellamy frowned. Had Clarke forgotten a meeting or something? But who had meetings on Sundays? What time even was it? Bellamy reached out for his bedside clock, spinning it to face him.

6:42 AM.

It was only one more blissfully oblivious moment Bellamy had before it dawned on him, like a tidal wave crashing down over a coastal city.

Late.

What could that mean in a woman's life?

Bellamy thought his heart stopped beating right there. He went cold with the realization. Then, like a mug of hot coffee being poured, anger flooded him. That asshole had already taken so much from Clarke, but if he went and got her pregnant from his idiocy, Bellamy might have to kill him. Was it possible that he could ruin Clarke's life any more?

Headache be damned, Bellamy shoved himself upright, swaying on his feet for a moment before heading to the door. He accidently kicked Miller in the leg but he didn't care. He hardly noticed anything as he ran down the hall and jogged up the stairs on bare feet, praying Clarke had returned to her dorm and not gone out in a panic.

Nothing mattered but finding her. There was no way she should be alone right now. He shoved open the door to her dorm room, taken aback by the wall of blackness.

"Hello? Bellamy?" Raven called out, her voice thick with sleep. "What's going on?"

"Clarke?" Was all Bellamy could say.

"In the bathroom. What'd you do to her?" she asked. Bellamy's eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see Raven standing outside of the bathroom door.

Bellamy ignored Raven's question, hurrying to Raven's side and gripped the doorknob, but of course it was locked. He rattled it anyway.

"Clarke?" He rapped softly on the wood, pressing his forehead to the door as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was still brimming with barely suppressed rage and this locked door was not helping things.

"It's me," he said as gently as he could.

"She came running in and locked herself in there," Raven informed him, unhelpfully.

Bellamy grit his teeth. "Clarke, open the door."

"What happened? Is she okay?" Raven kept asking questions.

"Maybe you should go check on everyone downstairs?" He bit out, rounding on her.

Her eyes widened, clearly surprised by his outburst.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly. His anger was getting the better of him. Raven was only asking as a concerned friend, but having her here right now, especially if she thought that her boyfriend had cheated on her with Clarke, would not be helpful.

"Okay," she said tersely. "I'm sleeping in your bed though."

"I don't care."

Raven frowned at the closed bathroom. "Come get me if you need anything, then." She hesitated on the threshold before closing the door slowly behind her.

Bellamy knocked again, pleading this time. "Clarke, I know what you meant. I- let me in."

No sound was heard from inside the bathroom. Bellamy pressed his ear to the door, his anxiety mounting by the moment. He paced away from the door only long enough to flick on Clarke's lamp.

"Clarke," He said, more firmly now. "Open this door or I'm going to have to break it down."

Still nothing. Bellamy clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling like there was just too much emotion inside him right now, feeling like he needed to punch something. Someone. Finn Collins.

"Okay, if you won't unlock the door then at least get back. I don't want to hurt you." Bellamy paused for one more moment before bracing his shoulder against the door.

"Three.. Two…" The lock clicked. Bellamy released a heavy sigh of relief and pushed the door open.

Clarke stood in the center of the bathroom, her head lowered, her hands ceaselessly fidgeting in front of her stomach. Her face was hidden behind a thick curtain of wavy blond hair.

"Oh, Clarke." Bellamy couldn't say anything else. What else was there to say? He couldn't say, 'It's all going to be alright' or 'You'll be fine.' or 'It's okay.' because none of that was true. This wasn't okay! Nothing about this was even remotely okay.

Clarke stood silently, but slowly, she lifted her head. Her face was pale, so white it was practically translucent. Her cerulean eyes shone radiantly from their sunken sockets, but Bellamy couldn't even appreciate their color because they were so terrified. She looked like a feral animal, cornered with nowhere to run. Her next move would either be surrender or bare her teeth and fight.

"I- I should have known," she whispered, her voice a hollow shell.

"No," Bellamy said.

"If I had been thinking, I could have taken one of those...what are they… the levonorgestrel pills." She gesticulated with her hands, thinking of only the medical term for the pill.

"Plan B?" Bellamy said, cringing at the name. How could it be a plan B if there was no plan A? Clarke had never planned for this to happen to her. The cruel unfairness of it all surrounded her like towering brick walls, caging her in without asking her permission if she wanted to be there.

"Yes," she murmured.

"No, Clarke." He shook his head. What could he say, to make her feel like her world wasn't ending when it could very well be. "Today is the eighth, what day were you supposed to get your period?" There was no room for embarrassment in Bellamy, he was too full of every other emotion.

"The sixth."

"That's two days! And it's still early morning, so basically it's only one day," he said, but Clarke only shook her head. "Why?"

"I don't work like that, Bellamy," she said flatly. "It's thirty-one days, it's always thirty-one days."

Bellamy swallowed stiffly, running his hand through his hair. "You can't know. For sure. I mean, there's other stuff."

Clarke still shook her head, looking so resigned already. Bellamy felt like he was going to implode and she was just...standing there.

"Clarke, don't. You can't know for sure," he repeated, needing to say something. At some point her gaze had slipped back to the floor, but she looked up again.

"You should leave," she whispered and Bellamy's heart sank. "You don't need to get all wrapped up in this."

"No, I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to. If you don't want me here, I'll go, but I'm staying for now. You don't need to do this alone."

Clarke's exterior crumpled and fat tears snuck from her eyes, leaving long tracks down her snow-white face. Bellamy reached out and brushed them away with his thumbs, but they just kept coming.

"What am I going to do, Bellamy?" Her voice trembled like a leaf in a windstorm.

"Shh," he soothed and she sank into his arms, no longer able to support herself. "I've got you, Clarke."

He expected her to sob, for her body to shake with emotion, for her to cry out, scream maybe, but she didn't. She just sagged into Bellamy's arms until he was the only thing supporting her.

"C'mon, Princess," he murmured, scooping her up like he had several times now. He carried her over to her bed, but instead of laying her down, he pulled back the sheets and climbed in with her. It was a bit of a struggle to arrange the blankets around them while also holding her, but Bellamy made it work.

Clarke felt like dead weight against his body as Bellamy leaned against the wall, settling her on his lap with her face pressed into his shoulder. He could feel her racing heart, but she didn't make a sound.

In the soft yellow light of the lamp, Bellamy held Clarke close, being what she needed right now, and getting ready to be what she would need in the future. He was still hanging on to the hope that Clarke was wrong about this, that she had the dates messed up or her body wasn't clockwork like she thought it was, but she seemed so certain. Women have a sort of intuition about these things, don't they?

They stayed like that for a long time, Clarke hiding her face in Bellamy's shoulder while he just laid there and held her, absently rubbing his hand up and down her arm. He didn't care if Raven or anyone else walked in, he would happily tell her what had happened, happily absolve Clarke of any guilt she wrongly felt for Raven's assumptions. He honestly hoped Raven would be horrified and disgusted at the revelation, because that was her boyfriend, and even though Finn's actions weren't Raven's fault, she had to have some inkling.

"I have a chemistry assignment I need to get done," Clarke said, seemingly out of the blue. She sat up and wiped her face with both hands.

Bellamy was too stunned to say anything. Clarke had just come to the realization that she was pregnant and she was worried about her chemistry assignment?

As Clarke crawled out of the bed, Bellamy found his voice. "Clarke, don't worry about that right now."

"No, I need to focus on school," She said simply, walking over to her desk where her backpack was resting and started digging through it.

"School is important, but your health is too," he said logically. And the health of your potential unborn baby. He added in his head.

"I'm fine, Bellamy." She pulled a purple folder from the bag with a little more force than necessary.

Bellamy didn't know what to say. She was in shock, right? She had to be. No one thinking clearly would be so calm about discovering you were pregnant with a baby as the result of being sexually assaulted.

Potentially pregnant.

Clarke flipped through the papers in her folder before pulling one out and smoothing it on her desktop before opening her laptop. The blue glow from the screen lit her face, giving her a haunted look.

"Okay, no," he said, acting without thinking. He got up and shut Clarke's laptop, nearly catching her fingertips. He swept the papers back into the folder and stuffed them back into her backpack as Clarke stared up at him with wide eyes.

"I'm not going to sit here and watch you, do...this!" he said firmly. "You don't even know for sure that you're pregnant! You have no proof! You can't just resign and sit back and let this happen to you! And even if it turns out you are pregnant, there are still options. Don't pretend like you're okay, because you're not, but that's not bad. So just let me help you.' Bellamy let out in a heavy breath.

Clarke had frozen when he started talking, and now she looked like she was going to break down again. He had been too harsh… he'd only made this worse. Oh God, he couldn't do anything right by her.

Bellamy was about to speak up, to apologize, but Clarke nodded. "Okay," she said, nodding. "Okay."

"Okay. Good." Bellamy rubbing his palms on his shorts. "C'mon. We're going to CVS and we're going to get a test, and then we'll go from there, okay?"

"Okay," she repeated. Bellamy held out his hand and Clarke took a moment, but she accepted it and Bellamy pulled her to her feet. She grabbed her little clutch and they walked out into the hall.

Clarke clung onto Bellamy's hand so tightly her knuckles were white and imprints were left behind on Bellamy's darker skin. He didn't mind.

He hoped the wouldn't encounter anyone else on their way out of the building, but of course, as luck would have it,

"Clarke! Hey, I was just on my way up to see you!" A dark haired girl that Bellamy didn't recognise stood jogging in place on the landing between the second and third floors. If only they had taken the elevator…

Clarke tensed beside Bellamy, gripping his hand even tighter. "Lexa, hey," she said.

"I was out for a jog and I remembered you said you had my charger that I left in the library, so I figured I'd stop by and pick it up," she explained, ceasing her jogging as her gaze traveled over Clarke, to her hand joined with Bellamy's, then back to Clarke.

"Who's this?" she asked.

"Bellamy," Clarke offered no further explanation.

"Oh. Nice to meet you." Lexa outstretched a hand, sounding not at all like she was pleased to meet his acquaintance. Bellamy gave Lexa's arm a quick pump with his free hand.

"You too," he said, wishing she would move out of the way so they could continue.

"If you're heading out, I can come by later…" Lexa hedged.

"No, it's fine." Clarke dropped Bellamy's hand and turned on a heel, hurrying up the stairs. "Wait there." Bellamy watched her go until all he could hear were her footsteps echoing through the stairwell. He flexed his fingers, and although freed from Clarke's iron grip, he would have preferred she stayed right where she was.

Lexa gave him a curious look when he turned back to her.

"Rough morning," he said, feeling like he had to say something.

"So, you were going out?" The tone of Lexa's voice set him on edge, especially when he misheard her question as, 'So, you're going out?', as in, were he and Clarke dating?

"Yes, we're going to get some ibuprofen." It wasn't a lie.

"Couldn't you just go get it, and let Clarke rest?" Lexa asked critically.

Bellamy shifted his weight and glared down at this Lexa chick. "Clarke wanted some fresh air."

"Hmm," Lexa grunted, dissatisfied with Bellamy's explanation. She pulled her phone out of a pocket on her leggings, glanced at it, tucked it away, then looked anywhere but Bellamy for a moment, bouncing her leg impatiently.

"So, who are you? I've never heard Clarke talk about you before." She turned a glare back on him.

Bellamy snorted. "I've never heard her talk about you, either." That was a lie, Clarke had mentioned Lexa a few times, they had Composition together, he remembered, but that was all he knew about her.

"Interesting," Was all Lexa replied. "Why's she feel sick? Did you have her out drinking all night?"

Was Lexa Clarke's friend, or her mother? "No, she just doesn't feel well. Stomach ache and her head hurts." Again, not a lie.

"Hmm,"

Bellamy released an exasperated sigh and looked up the stairwell, craning his neck to see, even though he knew he would hear the door opening and Clarke's footsteps long before he saw her.

"We're friends," Bellamy said, if only to ease the tension brewing on the small landing. "She's roommates with my sister, and I live right below their dorm. I guess you could say overlapping mutual friend groups."

"Interesting," Lexa said with a critical eye.

Bellamy grit his teeth. "What's your deal?"

"My deal?"

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like that? Something wrong with me?" He challenged, well aware he was acting like a child, but he didn't care. The anger at Finn was still bubbling right below the surface, and Lexa had just made herself a target.

"I don't know, is there? Because if you're playing Clarke for a fool, I'd say yes," she snapped back with just as much venom.

Bellamy's resolve staggered internally, but he held his body ridgid. "That's the last thing I'd ever do, I assure you. Not that I give a damn what you think."

Lexa scoffed. "Sure. I've seen guys like you before, Bellamy. Don't you belong at the frat house?"

"I'd watch myself if I were you," he growled. Lexa, clearly realizing she'd touched a nerve, pressed on.

"What? Don't you have a keg to pick up? Maybe some Rohypnal to slip into some girl's drink?"

Bellamy saw red as his hands curled into fists. If Lexa weren't a girl, he would have her knocked out cold right now. Hell, he was still considering fixing her up with a shiner. "Shut your mouth. You have no idea what you're talking about."

Lexa planted a hand on her hip and looked cockily at him, not needing words to convey her smugness.

Bellamy had been so preoccupied by the blood rushing in his ears that he hadn't heard Clarke's footsteps on the stairs until she brushed past him, holding out a black computer cord to Lexa.

"Sorry I took so long," Clarke said faintly, offering a small smile up to Lexa, who beamed back at her.

"No problem. Want me to come along to the store with you? Or I could just go for you, and you could rest?" Lexa offered, holding Clarke's gaze intently, clearly trying again to put Bellamy out.

"N-no," Clarke stammered, turning over her shoulder, seeking Bellamy out. Her action was enough for him to shake some of the anger from his vision. "We should get going, Bellamy."

"Definitely," Bellamy agreed, stepping back to Clarke's side, her hand instantly finding his again, her grip looser this time.

"Well, okay. I can make you some chicken noodle soup, I'll bring it by later," Lexa said, offering no room for Clarke to refuse. "Feel better soon!"

"No thanks," Clarke said as Lexa leaned forward and planted a kiss on Clarke's cheek. It lingered for just a second longer than necessary, but in that second, the realization dawned on Bellamy; Lexa was jealous!

"See you later," Lexa pulled back and squeezed Clarke's arm before turning and jogging off down the stairs, her computer cord swinging from one hand.

Bellamy tried to process the knowledge he'd just gained. Lexa was acting so defensive because she was interested in Clarke… that was...an unexpected but illuminating twist. He didn't know if Clarke liked girls, not that it would matter if she did, but-

Bellamy turned to look down at Clarke, who was staring down the stairs with a slightly furrowed brow.

"What was that all about?" she asked him.

"You tell me," Bellamy said back.

"I didn't even think we were that good of friends," Clarke spoke as they started down the stairs. "I mean, she's nice, and we get along, but I've only spent time with her on four occasions, and she's acting like we've been best friends for life."

Bellamy felt a funny sense of relief that Clarke was just as confused about Lexa as he had been a few minutes ago. He wondered if he should break the news to her, or let her figure it out on her own.

"At least you get some free soup out of it." Bellamy tried to joke, but Clarke only frowned.

Bellamy dropped the topic, not caring to talk about it any further. Clarke didn't seem to be interested in Lexa, so what was the harm?

Clarke pulled her hand from Bellamy's to push open the door of Frontier Hall, and crossed her arms as soon as they stepped outside. She was silent on the trip to the CVS. so Bellamy only stuffed his empty hands into his pockets and walked along beside her.

As she walked along the sidewalk, Clarke considered the cracks riddling the concrete. Or was it cement? She never really knew the difference between the two. It had been something she had asked her father on more than one occasion, but it always seemed to slip her mind. She could hear his voice in her head, the rise and fall of the syllables of his words, but the words themselves were unintelligible. It didn't matter though, because Clarke didn't care what the difference between cement and concrete was, she just wanted to hear her Dad's voice in her ear. She wanted him to reassure her, to tell her that her whole world wasn't coming to a screeching halt, teetering on the tracks, about to tip and careen off a cliff.

Tell me it's okay, Dad.

"Clarke, they aren't the same thing at all! You know why? Because cement is an ingredient in concrete. You see, the concrete is made of a mixture of sand, gravel, water and cement."

The arbitrary piece of information came through, loud and clear in Clarke's head, along with the memory of when and where the conversation had happened. They were standing in front of the hospital, waiting for Abby to get off her shift. It was Clarke's twelfth birthday, and they were supposed to go out to dinner at 6:30, because Abby's shift got over at 6:00, but it was nearly seven by that point. Her dad had been chatting about everything under the sun to keep Clarke from feeling disappointed that her mother couldn't keep a commitment for her only child.

In the end, Clarke and her dad got supper alone, and Clarke was in bed before Abby came home. Clarke had pretended to be asleep when her mother leaned into her bedroom, hoping she would come over and kiss her on the forehead. But she didn't, Abby only closed the door, sealing Clarke in darkness.

The memory of her dad's voice had turned sour, so Clarke tried to push it from her head, but all she could see were the cracks in the sidewalk, looking like miniature lightning bolts or tributaries or terribly twisted snakes, running up and down the concrete. With every different shape came a memory. The time they cut the branches off the tree in the backyard after it got blown over in a thunderstorm, the time they went kayaking in the stream outside of town, the time they collected jars of bugs to look at under Clarke's microscope…

"Here," A voice broke through the memories playing back like a film in Clarke's head.

Bellamy was holding the door of the CVS open for her, looking at her with an odd expression.

"Thanks," she said softly.

The inside of the store was cold, like the air conditioning was turned up a few notches too high, and the fluorescent lights glared off the polished linoleum floor.

"Let's get the ibuprofen first," Bellamy said, steering Clarke towards the over the counter medication aisle.

She ran a finger along the white cylindrical bottles of pain relievers. Occasionally she would push one back in it's slot and let the spring mechanism force it back into place. The hollow rattling echoed down the linoleum aisle. Something in the sound reminded her of something.

"You know, I can't get this," Clarke said, pointing to the ibuprofen.

"Huh? Why not?"

"Because… it can cause high blood pressure in the fetus." That word felt strange on Clarke's tongue, especially when she was saying it in reference to herself.

"Oh." Was all Bellamy said.

After a moment of searching the shelf, Clarke picked out the cheaper, store brand acetaminophen, not the name brand Tylonal, because if you look at the ingredients and the amounts, you'd find they were identical, and people foolishly bought the name brand just because it made them feel better.

"What do you need?" Clarke asked Bellamy. He blinked at her.

"Uh, I guess I could use some more deodorant."

"Okay," Clarke led the way this time to the men's hygiene aisle, selecting a few sticks of deodorant and smelling them, wrinkling her nose at a couple before settling on one and handing it to Bellamy.

He looked curiously at her. "You like this one?"

She shrugged and nodded.

"Alrighty then." They stood in the aisle for a moment, neither one of them moving. Clarke had purposely pushed the real reason for their visit out of her head, but now Bellamy was standing in front of her, clearly waiting for her to take the initiative, but she didn't want to. Instead she stared at his shoes. They were black Nikes, scuffed and dirty. The white Nike swoosh on the right one had a black streak on it that looked like Sharpie marker, and the left one had a rip in the mesh right where his pinky toe would be.

He shifted his feet and prompted, "Clarke?"

She looked up. "Can we go shoe shopping? Will you let me pick out some new shoes for you?"

He faltered. It was an out of the blue question, but Clarke clearly wanted an answer. "Sure," he agreed, "But let's do this first."

She frowned. "Why bother wasting money on a dumb test if I already know what it's going to say?"

"No, Clarke. You don't know what it's going to say. I'm not saying your intuition or whatever the hell it is, is wrong, but you shouldn't get your mind set on something that might not even be true," he said harshly.

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms low and pressing them into her stomach, as if she could already feel what was going on there.

She truly felt like an idiot for not thinking about this sooner, because of course there would be...repercussions from what Finn did to her, but for some reason, it just didn't occur to her, even though it was glaringly obvious, looking back now. Ever since then, there had been a pit, low in her belly, something dark and ominous, just living there.

Bellamy made a disgruntled noise in his throat. "Go on then."

Clarke found herself glaring at him, but his expression only hardened under her sharp eyes, firm on his stance. Eventually, after several long seconds and an odd look from a lady down the aisle, Clarke submitted and broke their glaring match, stalking down the aisle, looking for the pregnancy tests.

She knew she was in somewhat of a dissociative state as she plucked one off the spinning rack, but it was the only way she was able to stand upright. If she stopped and thought about the magnitude of the meaning of the little cardboard box clutched in her hand, her knees would buckle and she didn't know if she would be able to stand back up.

"Shouldn't you get a couple?" Bellamy asked. "In case it's faulty or something? Maybe a couple different brands, for… what's that called? Something scientific. The scientific method."

"More like, covering all your bases," Clarke suggested.

Bellamy nodded. "I always liked sports analogies better anyways."

"That's not a sports analogy-"

He raised a brow at her.

"Oh. I guess you're right. I never really connected that saying with baseball though."

"Aww, c'mon. I thought you liked sports! You sure seemed to like the football game yesterday,"

Despite herself, Clarke's lips turned up slightly. "I like football."

"Me too. Now let's get out of here, Princess." Bellamy nodded towards the register at the front of the store. Clarke looked everywhere but the three different tests in his hand as he walked away.

She hung back from the register, pressing two twenty dollar bills into Bellamy's hand and leaving the transaction to him.

"Hello, find everything you need today?" A cheery older woman said with a smile that seemed genuine, not like the smile most retail workers plastered on for the sake of customer service.

"Yep," Bellamy said, letting everything that was cradled in his arm fall on to the checkout counter.

"Good, glad to hear," she chirped, reaching forward to scan the first item. Clarke read her name badge: Joy. Fitting. She had a southern accent and too much blue eyeshadow.

Clarke watched, as if in slow motion, Joy's face fell as she grasped the small pink First Response box. Her eyes glanced up to Bellamy, a sort of disappointed expression replacing her smile. She looked like a grandmother, scolding her grandkids during Easter mass when they pulled the psalm books from the back of the pew and dogeared the pages.

Joy's gaze shifted to Clarke, who tried -unsuccessfully- to tuck herself behind Bellamy. She softened a bit, making Clarke wonder what she looked like for a second, before realizing that she didn't care what this random CVS checkout lady thought about her.

"You know, my daughter had her first baby at seventeen," Joy said as she scanned the test and an electronic beep from the register fractured her words.

Bellamy grunted, clearly disinterested.

"I wasn't too pleased, but her boyfriend, now husband, did the right thing. He's a good man."

Beep.

"And honestly, I couldn't imagine my life without that little baby. She's grown now, of course, she just had her birthday and she turned...oh…" Beep. "Thirty-one?" Joy smiled fondly, pausing with the bottle of acetaminophen halfway to the scanner. "They change your life in ways you would never imagine." She looked only at Clarke when she said this, and Clarke found herself looking into this old woman's eyes, almost as if in a trance. The soothing lilt of this woman's voice had Clarke transfixed.

Beep.

"And my daughter, she was young, but she was a good girl, and her husband, he came through. She couldn't have done it without him, of course." She dropped the pill bottle into the bag and smiled wryly. "Takes two to make the baby, so it ought to take two to raise it."

Clarke smiled as Bellamy handed the bills to her. Joy counted out their change and handed it back to Bellamy, giving his hand a little squeeze as she placed the coins in his palm.

"You'll be alright, dear," she said, handing over the bag to Clarke. "This one seems like a good one," she added with a nod at Bellamy.

"He is," Clarke assured Joy, who chuckled slightly and shook her head. Clarke glanced up at Bellamy, who was looking down at her with a gentle, yet unreadable expression.

"Ah, young love," Joy sighed, then made a shooing motion at them. "Get goin' now, your future is a-waitin'!"

Clarke, a bit taken back by the comment, couldn't respond. Luckily, Bellamy was there, just like he always was.

"Thank you, ma'am. Have a good day." He dipped his head to Joy and she pressed a hand to her chest, pursing her smiling lips together. "C'mon, Princess."

Bellamy's fingers threaded through Clarke's naturally and led her out of the store, back into the sunny Sunday morning. Clarke squinted into the light, glad to have Bellamy there to guide her. He sneezed loudly as they stepped off the curb, shaking his head from side to side like a dog as he groaned.

"What was that?" Clarke was amused as his eyes welled up from the force of his sneeze.

He shrugged and took a deep inhale, woking his jaw as if trying to settle it back into place. "Dunno. Sometimes when I walk out into the bright light, it makes me sneeze."

"That was a rough sneeze."

"I sneeze on the policy of go big or go home," he says breezily.

"Noted."

The plastic CVS bag swung slightly in Clarke's hand as they walked back towards campus, and she wondered if anyone could see through the partially transparent plastic, to the contents inside. She wondered if they would assume that the man she was holding hands with as she walked down the street was the father, just as Joy had assumed.

"Did you mean what you said?" Bellamy interrupted her thoughts.

"What?"

"What you said to that lady, that I'm a 'good one'?" he asked, almost sheepishly. Clarke pulled back on his hand so he would face her.

She frowned at him before assuring, "Of course I did."

Bellamy's lips lifted slightly and he turned away from Clarke, looking out over the street, which was relatively quiet, just a lady jogging down the opposite sidewalk and a man walking two small black dogs on extendable leashes.

Clarke misread his expression and quickly added, "I'm sorry I didn't correct her..when she thought that you were… that wasn't right, but I just couldn't stand to say anything." Clarke didn't admit that it hadn't even crossed her mind until now to correct the lady, because it wouldn't seem so bad if the man who'd knocked her up at least had the decency to take her to the pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test.

"No, no," Bellamy said, then added, "Potentially pregnant."

Clarke hummed, flexing her fingers before settling back along the ridges of Bellamy's knuckles.

"And Clarke, I don't mind. I mean, if you want to tell people that it's mine…"

She stopped, pulling him to a halt beside her. With that one sentence, he'd broken her carefully erected dam, and the emotion and the weight of the situation came crashing down, washing over her in relentless waves.

Bellamy turned concerned, instantly, like always. "Unless you don't want to, I just thought…" he stumbled over his words to explain, looking slightly flustered as he rubbed at his chin where a layer of stubble had settled, making him look older.

"Oh, Bellamy," Clarke murmured, unable to resist and threw her arms around his neck, whacking him with the CVS bag as she clung to him.

He staggered, but didn't hesitate to return the squeeze, pressing one hand to the back of her head and the other to the small of her back, flattening her body against his. His scratchy jawline scraped along the side of Clarke's head as his fingers threaded into her hair, massaging her scalp.

"I would never ask you to do that, but you saying that means more than you'll ever know."

"You didn't ask. I offered," he said flatly.

Clarke reluctantly pulled back and Bellamy released her after a moment more, seemingly unwilling to let her out of his arms, which made Clarke's chest flutter, and now was most definitely not the place nor the time.

"That's because you're a good man." She smiled sadly at him.

"I just do what has to be done."

That didn't feel good to hear, and Clarke drew up and said snipply, "You make me sound like your obligation. You are free to leave anytime!" Those words hurt to say, scraping along Clarke's throat as she forced them out, desperate to stay unsaid, because if Bellamy left, she would be lost. So lost.

Bellamy blinked, then hardened right back at her. "Have I ever said that?"

Clarke's answer came easily. "No."

"Then why would you say that?"

The words were coming out before Clarke could stop them. "Because I'm scared, Bellamy. And I haven't had anybody who just- takes care of me. Not since Dad died… and I don't know how to deal with it. I feel like I owe you something, because you do so much for me. So much. You do the things no one else could, and I, I don't do anything except cause more and more problems for you! I feel like I'm using you, and I'm too scared to lose you to say anything about it!"

"You just did." Bellamy smirked and a strangled laugh escaped Clarke's throat.

"I guess I did."

"And I'm still here?" Bellamy raised a brow.

"And you're still here," Clarke repeated.

"Alright, that's settled then," he said matter-of-factly. "Now let's go home. Do you have to pee yet?"

AN_

We all need a Bellamy in our lives. I know that was a heavy chapter... and I hope I did it justice.

Thank you all so much for reviewing the previous chapter! That is the most reviews I have ever received on a single chapter, and it made my week. I had left on a short trip just after I posted it, and didn't have my phone or computer, so I didn't see them all until I returned home. Let's just say I thought there was some sort of mistake! So, thank you, thank you, thank you! And I know you are all waiting for Clarke to finally tell Raven, and don't worry, we are almost there. I hope it lives up to what you are all expecting, and I think it will be a pretty big surprise. That's all I'm going to say though! Sorry...

Again, thank you for reading and reviewing, you are all wonderful people. :)

-Birch66724