Bellamy didn't know how long he sat on that damn aluminum bench, shackled to the floor like a dog, but it was long enough for his entire left leg to go numb, and for the throbbing in his knuckles to fade into a persistent dull ache.
He sat, frozen, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes, sealing out all light. It was like he was in another world, separate from the one around him. The officers and receptionists and parole officers milled around the station, going about their work and living their lives. Bellamy was not even a blip on their radar, just another common criminal.
It had him feeling insignificant and low, that no one would even spare him a second glance. He was just another man with bruised knuckles waiting in a police station. Just another low-life slipping through the cracks of society. Another person like his mother...
The only thing present in his mind, despite his feelings of self-loathing, was a gnawing concern of Clarke and Raven. Where were they? Surely Raven was at the hospital, but was Clarke there with her? Or was Clarke being interrogated? What was she going through? Was she telling everything to an officer, some overweight, underpaid jerk who didn't give a ratsass about everything Clarke had gone through, and was only interested in filing her statements into the system so he could go home to his nice little bungalow in the suburbs?
It made Bellamy strain against the cuffs as if sheer frustration could sever the bonds and let him go to her. Let him comfort her and hold her hand. She needed him, but more than that, Bellamy needed her.
"Bellamy Blake."
Bellamy looked up, squinting into the fluorescent lights of the station. Another man in uniform came into focus, staring down at him with a faintly... amused look?
"I'm Sergeant Lovejoy, the investigator on your case." The man held out a hand for Bellamy to shake.
Bellamy suppressed a shudder at the word case, reaching out to shake the man's hand. Only, the cuffs stopped him short, snapping on their short chain.
"Whoops. Sorry 'bout that." Lovejoy said, fishing in his pocket. "You look like shit," he added wryly.
Bellamy mumbled, "Thanks." This guy didn't seem half bad, At least he had a sense of humor.
Lovekjoy chuckled, withdrawing a key and motioning for Bellamy's wrists. "Worried about Clarke?"
Bellamy's eyes shot up, all fogginess in his head dispelling at the very mention of her name.
"Thought so," Lovejoy said, not unkindly, as he loosed the cuffs, letting them fall to the floor with a metallic clank.
"How is she? I mean, she's not injured, or anything?"
"No, no. She's, well, a bit rattled, but she's okay."
Bellamy exhaled as he rose to his feet. "That's good. You talked to her?"
"Yeah, she asked me to let you know that she's 'thinking about you'," Lovejoy said as he started walking down the hallway. Bellamy trailed after him, wondering briefly why he was no longer bound as if he were a threat to society.
"Okay. That's good. How about Raven? The girl that was shot?"
"Couldn't say." Lovejoy held a door open for Bellamy.
Bellamy nodded. At least Clarke was okay. Clarke would call Octavia, and then his sister would have a conniption fit, but oh well. They would go to the hospital and stay with Clarke until Bellamy could.
"So, what's the plan then?" Bellamy asked, sitting stiffly in the chair Lovejoy offered him.
Lovejoy didn't respond, he only slapped a thick manilla folder onto the table and started leafing through pages of paper. Time slowed to a standstill as Bellamy bounced his knee, tension rising by the second.
Finally, the investigator settled in a seat across from Bellamy and began speaking. "Well, Bellamy Blake, I know you're not the bad guy in this situation."
Bellamy didn't react. Sure, he wasn't the gun wielding maniac, but he wasn't completely faultless. He'd still committed an unspeakable act.
"Clarke's testimony really put things into perspective, plus, we have evidence from the scene, including security footage from the convenience store and a couple of eyewitnesses. I'm going to make a case that you should be released this afternoon, and I think we've got good odds of that happening."
Bellamy let a beat pass. "Really?"
"Mhmm."
"Oh God, thank you so much," Bellamy gushed on an exhale, dropping his head into his hands and raking his fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots to ground himself.
"Don't thank me, I'm just doing my job."
Bellamy nodded, straightening up.
"Now, the courts don't want to be bogged down with a case like yours, so let me go make a couple of calls, and we should have you out of here by four."
Bellamy nodded again. "Thank you so much, Sergeant. I mean, I can't-"
"Easy now!" Lovejoy chuckled as Bellamy latched on his hand, shaking in firmly. "I can't promise anything, all I'm saying is that the odds are looking good. I just need to run it past the boss man so my ass isn't on the line if you go out there and commit a felony or somethin'."
"Of course. I promise, you'll never hear from me again. I'm a model citizen, really."
"I believe you," Lovejoy said earnestly, patting Bellamy on the shoulder as he left the room. That was all he needed to hear. He slouched into the chair, relieved for a fraction of a second. At least he wasn't going to end up in lockup.
The room was windowless and had no clock, so judging the passing of time was difficult. Bellamy's thoughts remained firmly on the topic of Raven and Clarke, praying Raven was doing alright, and Clarke had her friends by her side by now. They'd help her. He even wondered how Finn was doing, tossing in a halfhearted prayer that he hadn't done irreparable damage to the boy's head, even if he deserved it. Bellamy didn't want that on his conscience.
Perhaps it had been five minutes or five hours, but the door swung open.
"Alright, Mr. Blake. Ope, sorry, Bellamy. I know you don't like Mr. Blake," Lovejoy said teasingly.
Bellamy raised a brow and grinned. "Clarke?"
"She knows you well, I guess."
"She does."
Bellamy's urge to be by her side flared then, so he eagerly followed Lovejoy out into the hall.
"So does that sister you've got."
"Oh God. She's here?"
"Yep. Has been nearly the whole time, pacing up and down the place, driving the receptionist crazy."
Bellamy chuckled. "Sounds like Octavia. Patience doesn't really run in the family."
They continued down several halls that felt like a maze to Bellamy, until they emerged back at the place where he'd been admitted into the facility. His phone, wallet, and Miller's keys were returned to him.
"Thank you, for everything," Bellamy said to Lovejoy, who was overseeing his release.
"Of course son. Just don't make me have to do it again."
"You won't, sir."
"I trust you'll stay out of trouble. Now get out of here!" Lovejoy waved him off with a fatherly smile. Bellamy didn't hesitate to follow his advice, pushing through a pair of doors into a lobby area, packed with people.
It took only a moment to spot Octavia, as she was leaning over a reception desk, practically shouting at a lady.
"Hey, O!" Bellamy called, distracting her. Her head swung up, eyes still set in a glare.
"What the hell, Bellamy!" She snapped, giving him one hard punch to the chest. It hurt enough for Bellamy to exhale and stoop over a slight bit, but a second later, Octavia's arms snaked around him.
"I'm so sorry," he apologized into her hair.
"It's fine. I guess. You're here now, so-" Octavia pulled back, looking surprisingly emotional. Bellamy felt a blow to his chest much stronger than the one his sister had just given him. He was supposed to be there for her, but here she was, taking care of him. He must have terrified her, and for that, he felt immensely guilty.
"Yeah. Let's get to the hospital. Have you heard anything about Raven?" Bellamy questioned, starting for the door.
"No, Harper went with Jasper and Monty to wait with Clarke. They haven't said anything," Octavia sniffled, pulling her phone from her back pocket to double check.
Bellamy nodded, reveling in the fresh air that washed over him as he shoved the door open. He felt like he'd been stuck in there for weeks, when in reality, it had only been a couple of hours.
Miller and Murphy were outside, leaning casually against the side of an old Kia.
"Aye, the man, the myth, the legend himself!"
"How was jail, man?"
Bellamy rolled his eyes at the guys. "Shut up. I wasn't in jail."
"Sure you weren't. Handcuffs? Ride in a cop car? Sounds like jail to me," Murphy said.
"I was arrested, not imprisoned."
"Same difference," Murphy shrugged.
"Hey, sorry about the van, Miller. It wasn't impounded, was it?" Bellamy cringed.
"Nah, they just took it to a holding lot or something. I can go pick it up whenever."
Bellamy handed him the keys and Octavia explained that they'd hired an Uber to come pick him up, and take them to the hospital. They all clambered into the car and took off.
"So, what do you know?" Bellamy asked cautiously, He didn't know what Clarke had told them, and he wasn't about to tell them her story.
"Uh, the sky's red, the Earth is flat, and the oceans are filled with diet 7-UP," Murphy spouted.
"Haha, very funny," Octavia said dryly. "Not much, really. Clarke just said, 'Raven got shot and Bellamy got arrested' and left it at that."
"Hmm."
"Real descriptive, right? Was it like a drug deal gone wrong? Or were you being mugged or something?" Murphy asked, almost excited at the possibilities.
"Shut up," Miller shushed him.
Bellamy looked at their expectant faces, unsure of what to say. "Well, it's not really my story to tell. It's- personal."
Octavia scowled.
"I mean, it's Clarke's business to tell, not mine."
Murphy scoffed. "Dude, you got fuckin' arrested, I'm pretty sure it's your buisness."
"Yeah... It's not like that though. Just- let Clarke tell you. If she wants to."
It was a rather cryptic statement, and was met with frowns throughout the group.
They arrived at the hospital without incident, paying the driver and entering the building. Octavia called Harper and got directions to where they were waiting. Bellamy buzzed with anticipation as they drew nearer. Would Clarke be upset with him? Or worse, scared of him? That would quite simply devastate Bellamy, as all he wanted to do was scoop her up in a hug and never let her out of his sight again.
"Oh! There you are!" Octavia said, clicking off the phone as she stepped out of an elevator.
Sure enough, tucked in the corner of the waiting room, partially hidden behind a large blue faux leather couch, was the rest of the group. Harper was standing, waving them over, while Jasper and Monty said on either side of the slouched blond lump that was Clarke.
They hurried over, but Clarke didn't even look up. Bellamy couldn't hear anyone else as he stared at her. His Princess. He spared a glance at Octavia, but she just shrugged. Had they not told her he was coming?
"Clarke?" He said softly, crouching in front of her. She didn't move. For several painful seconds, Bellamy watched her, petrified that she would never want to meet his gaze again.
But then she looked up, her gorgeous blue eyes flashing with disbelief. They stared at one another for a long time, as if neither of them believed that the other was real.
Clarke's face held the absolute opposite of fear. She looked so relieved at the sight of him, that Bellamy could hardly contain himself.
"Bellamy," Clarke murmured, and in a flurry of motion, her legs, which had been tucked up to her chest, dropped to the floor as she propelled herself forward, knocking into him with a force that sent Bellamy sprawling backwards from his crouching position.
"Oh my God-" she gasped. Bellamy struggled to sit upright as Clarke clung to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, her fuzzy curls tickling his face.
"Hi Clarke," he said lamely, fitting his arms around her and holding her close, not caring what any of their onlooking friends were thinking. It felt so good to have her here, tucked up against him where he knew she was safe. It felt a hundred times better than that first punch to Finn's stupid face had felt. A thousand times better.
"I thought- Oh God, I thought you were going to go to jail and I was never going to see you-"
"Shh, it's alright. I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."
Clarke groaned as her chest expanded with a shaky breath. "Don't go," she pleaded softly.
"I won't," Bellamy promised, pressing his face into the top of her hair, reveling in the sweet scent of her shampoo.
"I'm so sorry," Clarke murmured. "This is all my fault."
"Hey, don't say that. It's not true."
Clarke pulled back, leaving a gaping absence in Bellamy's arms and heart. He stared at her face as she sniffled and wiped at her nose the back of her sleeve. Her eyes had deep purple bags under them and her hair was a ruffled mess. She looked exhausted but totally beautiful at the same time.
"Hate to burst your bubble, but I think the rest of us need an explanation," Murphy interrupted. Clarke ducked her head away in an attempt to hide the color rushing to her cheeks, while Bellamy scowled up at Murphy.
He caught his sister's eye, and she gave him a critical look, but she wasn't glaring daggers or looking as if she was about to blow her lid.
"Yeah, uh, okay," Bellamy offered, getting to his feet before offering a hand to help Clarke up. She laced her fingers through his as she came to stand beside him.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I should have told everyone everything a long time ago, but-" Clarke cut off, looking to the floor. Harper had that sweet look of concern while the boys just stood awkwardly, able to understand the severity of the emotion, but not knowing what to say or do.
"Let's go over here, where it's quieter," Bellamy suggested, giving Clarke's arm a gentle tug until she nodded and the group centered around them in the corner of the waiting room where they were less likely to be overheard.
Clarke, with Bellamy's help and support, recounted the events of that morning, as well as the preceding events. Bellamy was so proud of her, appreciating just how hard it must have been, but if there was one thing Clarke was, she was strong.
Harper came to Clarke's other side and stroked her hair, and Octavia cringed and gave Clarke plenty of sympathetic looks. The guys just lowered their heads, scuffing their feet on the worn carpet and muttering curses at Finn and apologies for Clarke.
"And that's all there is to know, I guess," Clarke finished, giving Bellamy's hand a squeeze before dropping it to wipe at her nose again. Jasper grabbed her Kleenex while Harper hugged her.
Bellamy had never really understood Clarke's reasoning for why she didn't want to tell their friends, but he hoped she felt relief now that she had. Bellamy knew he did. It wasn't like he hadn't liked being Clarke's go-to guy, he definitely did, but now that everyone knew, he had no reason to tiptoe around them and feel the need to lie for Clarke's sake. They were all in the same boat now, and their goal was to support and love Clarke. It was as simple as that.
"Hey man, thanks for beating the shit out of Finn," Miller said.
"Yeah. We might have to do it again though, once he gets out of the hospital," Murphy added.
Bellamy chuckled. "Yeah, I can't say it didn't feel good... but I shouldn't have done it."
"Like hell you shouldn't have! I probably would have killed him. Who thinks that can just go around beating up on girls and raping them? What a sick bastard," Miller said boldly.
Bellamy didn't disagree, but he kept quiet. He did feel guilty about maiming Finn, but hopefully the guy learned a lesson. And if Bellamy's face rearrangement didn't teach it to him, hopefully prison would.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for Clarke Griffin?"
Everyone paused and turned to see a doctor in a white coat standing there.
Clarke hurried forward. "Yes, I'm Clarke. Is Raven okay?"
The doctor gave a tight lipped expression and Bellamy felt his stomach drop. That didn't exactly look good.
"I'm doctor Eric Jackson, I was-"
"You look a little young for a doctor," Murphy interjected. He was quickly silenced by harsh glares from everyone.
"Aren't you the EMT, the one form the scene?" Clarke questioned, one hand on her hip.
"Uh yes. I was just filling in for a friend's shift though. I used to be an EMT, but now I'm a physician so I-"
"Okay, okay, get to the point. How's Raven?" Octavia butted in.
Dr. Jackson looked a bit taken aback, but he blinked and continued on.
"Your friend Raven has experienced quite a trauma. The bullet entered her lower back, and lodged in the spinous process of the L2 vertebrae. It also caused substantial damage to the nerve tissues running between the vertebrae. She has been taken up to surgery to remove the bullet and repair as much of the damage as we can."
"Okay..." Clarke murmured, then tentatively asked, "How much damage?"
"At this point, we don't know for sure, but it looks like she has a partial core transection and hemiparesis of her left leg, including the ankle and foot," Dr. Jackson continued, but no one except Clarke seemed to know what that meant. Judging by her sagging shoulders though, it wasn't good news.
"English please, Doc."
"She's partially paralized," Clarke cut in, her voice hardening by the syllable. "She might not ever walk again, all because of Finn."
AN_
Happy October everyone. Thanks for reading!
-Birch66724
