It had been eight days since Octavia Blake was rushed into the ER, seven since Clarke impulsively visited her in the ICU. And every day since, she'd had to resist the urge to run upstairs again to check on Octavia's progress.

But resist she did, because she knew damn well it would be better for her peace of mind not to get emotionally attached to such a critical patient. And that didn't even begin to take into consideration her rather… unusual reaction to the girl's brother.

No, it was obvious to Clarke that it was best to steer clear of both Blakes.

Unfortunately, fate seemed to have other plans.

She was holed up in her small office, taking advantage of a relatively quiet Sunday in the ER to catch up on some long-overdue paperwork, when there was a gentle rap on the jamb of her open door.

"Come in," she called, without looking up. "Things starting to get busy out there? I can put this stuff away…"

But her voice died when she glanced up and saw that the person standing in her doorway wasn't one of the ER nurses after all.

"Bellamy!" She was so startled to see him that she nearly gasped in surprise.

The expression on his face was an odd combination of apologetic and hopeful.

"I'm sorry, Clarke. You look… really busy. I just… I couldn't think who else to ask about this stuff. So, uh, do you think maybe you'd have just a couple of minutes to spare?"

That's when she noticed the thick sheaf of papers clutched awkwardly in his left hand.

Clarke knew that what she should tell him was 'no, she didn't have even a moment to spare', because… hadn't she just spent a week trying to avoid the man? But somehow she found herself smiling instead, saying, "Sure, I've got some time. What've you got there?"

She told herself she was just helping out a friend, or at least… a friendly acquaintance. And she determinedly ignored the tingle of awareness that skittered along her spine when he smiled in relief.

When Bellamy slid into the chair across from her, she couldn't help noticing how much better he looked than he had a week ago when he'd been wracked by worry and exhaustion. She hoped that meant that things were going well for Octavia.

"Thanks," he said. "You're a lifesaver. I don't have a clue how to fill out these forms."

"Let me see," she said, reaching across the desk. Bellamy shoved them into her hands like he was happy to get rid of them.

Ark City General Hospital — Payment Plan Request

Oh. Clarke had never seen the form before. She felt stupid and appallingly privileged when she realized she hadn't even known such a form existed.

But her surprise was two-pronged. Bellamy worked for the city — surely he had decent health insurance.

She frowned. "So… your insurance won't cover all the costs related to Octavia's accident?"

Bellamy looked perplexed, small parallel lines appearing between his brows.

"My insurance?"

"No, I meant… isn't Octavia on your insurance plan? As your dependent?"

He frowned. "Well, of course she used to be, back when I was her legal guardian. But that was awhile ago. I don't get to have my twenty-six-year-old sister on my insurance…"

"What?"

Bellamy blinked at her sudden interruption. "What… what?"

"Octavia's twenty-six? I mean, I just… assumed she was much younger than that. The motorcycle. And… no helmet."

Bellamy sighed heavily. "Can't blame you for thinking someone her age should act a little more responsibly. But Octavia was always rebellious, and it just got worse after Mom died. I barely got her to graduate high school, and since then, she's had a series of dead-end jobs with no benefits…"

"So she doesn't live with you?"

"She does at the moment, but only because she's got nowhere else to go. And she knows she can always come home." He sighed. "No matter what stupid thing she's done, or how pissed off I am at her."

Clarke stared at him, her brain automatically doing a quick calculation, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them.

"So if she's twenty- six, that means you're…"

"Thirty-five."

He nodded, his expression quizzical, and she could hardly blame him. Clarke felt her face flame, because after all, what did Bellamy's age have to do with… anything? Still, she'd thought him younger. And now she couldn't help wondering why it was that someone so obviously caring and responsible… not to mention someone who looked like that… was still single at thirty-five.

Maybe, like her, he'd given up on relationships altogether.

Clarke gave herself a mental kick in the pants. What the hell made that any of her business?

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking," he said with a wry smile, and she felt a sudden spurt of panic. How could he possibly

"You're wondering how anyone can continue to let their sister just walk all over them, right? Believe me, I've got a whole lot of ex-girlfriends who asked that exact same question." He huffed a laugh. "No doubt why they're all exes."

Clarke's shoulder twitched up in a small, ambiguous shrug, relief coursing through her that Bellamy hadn't read anything into her question. At least, not anything resembling the truth.

"So she has no insurance?"

"Just what the state offers, and I had to force her to sign up for that."

She had a sudden burst of insight. "But… you pay for it."

The wry smile returned. "I figured it was worth it — and better than nothing. But I never imagined… anything like this."

Clarke sighed. No one ever did. Tragedies of any sort always happened to someone else.

A quick look at the first couple of pages told her this was probably going to take longer than a few minutes.

"This seems kind of complicated," she said. "I think we'll need more time than I have right now because I'm actually on shift…"

"I understand," he said, immediately rising and retrieving the forms from her. "Thanks for trying."

"No, no," she said quickly, completely rejecting the easy out he was giving her, and instead digging herself in just a little deeper. "What I meant was… can you wait until six? I'm off then. I could meet you down in the food court and we can look this stuff over. See if we can make some sense of it."

Bellamy blinked at her, as if not quite believing she was offering to spend so much time helping him.

"That would be… so great," he said, smiling down at her. "But only if you let me buy you one of those fabulous food court dinners as my thanks."

Clarke laughed. "That's really not necessary…"

"Yeah, it really is," he insisted. "But… I'll get out of your hair for now. See you at six."

And then he was gone so quickly that Clarke wondered if he was worried she might change her mind.

She took a deep breath as she suddenly understood that she'd just made arrangements to spend a whole lot of time with a man she'd spent the past week avoiding. What the hell was wrong with her?

Things got busier in the ER after Bellamy's visit, and at one point Clarke wondered — with a feeling of disappointment she was unable to hide from herself — if she'd be able to meet him after all. But in the end, she was only a little late, and he was waiting patiently when she arrived in the food court just after 6:15.

They immediately began to work on the forms, but it wasn't until they got several pages in that Clarke realized they probably weren't going to be able to complete them that night after all.

"Did you bring any employment documents from the city with you? The hospital wants to know about your income."

Bellamy groaned. "Shit! I never even saw that. I got stuck on the medical questions at the beginning."

"That's okay. Just get the stuff they ask for on page five and attach it, and I think that should do it."

She stacked the papers into a neat pile and handed them to Bellamy.

"I don't know how to thank you, Clarke. Or… yes, I do. What gourmet delight can I purchase for you from these splendid offerings?" He waved his hand around the room.

Clarke knew she shouldn't stay. She'd done her good deed, helped out this not-quite-a-friend, and now she needed to get the hell out of there. But Bellamy's smile was so hopeful that she just couldn't make herself leave.

She convinced herself he'd be offended if she didn't let him thank her in this way. And besides, what was a quick meal between almost-friends?

"Well, I happen to know that the Garden Delights stand makes a mean Chicken Caesar," she said, smiling, and he was up and off a second later.

It was while she was picking at her salad and Bellamy was munching on a burger that the idea came to her, and she wondered why the heck she hadn't thought of it earlier.

"Bellamy, have you checked with the billing office about their waiver of fees policy? It's for uninsured and under-insured patients, and I'm sure at least some of those bills would qualify."

This was a hospital policy she did know about because she'd been on a committee that had helped craft its recent revisions.

Bellamy's mouth stilled in mid-chew, his expression suddenly taut. Clarke watched as he swallowed his food, and then carefully cleared his throat.

"I… don't need charity, Clarke," he said, his voice tight. "I always pay my bills, even if it takes me a while. That's why I was filling out those forms…"

"But that's just it! They aren't your bills, they're Octavia's. I know you want to help her out, but it's exactly her kind of situation that might qualify for financial aid."

"She's my sister, Clarke. My responsibility." His normally expressive face shuttered as the burger dropped from his hands onto the plate.

"Not anymore, Bellamy," she insisted. "Octavia is an adult. And the hospital wouldn't write off everything anyway, so if you feel you need to… to bail her out by paying off what's left, then of course you should do that. But before you agree to be responsible for all those bills, you should check and see if she qualifies to have them reduced."

When he remained stubbornly silent, Clarke sighed. "Please consider this. Please don't take on more debt than you need to."

He stared at her for a moment, and then his lips pressed into a thin line and he shrugged.

"Okay," he sighed, yielding, and picking up what was left of his burger. "If you think that's the right thing to do..."

"I do," she told him earnestly, while a tiny voice in the back of her head asked when she'd become so invested in Bellamy Blake's financial welfare.

A voice she determinedly ignored.

"I'll let you know how I make out," he said, as they rose to leave a few minutes later.

Clarke knew she should tell him it wasn't necessary. That she should, in fact, discourage any further contact. But somehow, she couldn't make herself do it.

When they eventually parted ways in the parking lot, she told herself that under no circumstances should she consider looking into those waivers herself. Only to then wonder exactly when the billing office might open on Monday.

XXXXXXXXXX

As it turned out, Clarke's first stop Monday morning wasn't the billing office but the Department of Surgery. Since it seemed she wasn't going to be able to avoid the Blakes after all, she figured she might just as well find out exactly how Octavia was doing.

"Clarke!" Marcus Kane's face showed his surprise when she poked her head into his office. "We don't often see you up here. How can I help?"

Of course, now that she was there, Clarke wasn't sure how to explain her sudden, not to mention out-of-character, interest in Octavia.

"Well… I was just wondering… how Octavia Blake was doing," she said as off-handedly as she could manage. "Bellamy… that is, her brother… told me she was awake but still somewhat disoriented."

Kane eyed her curiously. "Are you friends with Mr. Blake then, after all?"

Clarke shrugged. "Not exactly friends, but… he asked me for help him with some paperwork and I couldn't say no, and then he told me a little about himself, and about his sister, so.…"

"Of course you didn't say no. As long as I've known you, Clarke, you've never been able to deny a request for help. It's part of what makes you a great doctor. I'm just… surprised, that's all. You usually try to avoid getting personally involved with your patients. Or former patients."

Clarke slid into the chair on the other side of Kane's desk as she tried to explain.

"I know, but there's just something about these two. It's like they… need a friend." She shrugged. "It probably sounds stupid, but I feel like I have to help them. If I can."

Kane smiled at her fondly. "It's not stupid at all. You're allowed to be human, you know. To get attached to people." His smile grew. "And in this case, I think you can be optimistic because Octavia's doing very well. She was much more alert when I examined her this morning. I'm confident we were able to completely stem the bleeding in her brain, and it seems to be healing nicely. As is her left arm. As soon the arm heals completely, we'll start her on intensive rehab. It may take a while, but she's young and healthy. I'm sure she'll eventually be able to recover nearly 100% mobility."

"That's really good news, Marcus. Have you told her?"

"Ah. That's the one thing I've been concerned about. She's not really receptive to any kind of news from us. Seems to have a lot of… anger." He hesitated. "But I suppose that's to be expected after such a terrible accident. No one is happy to wake up to so much pain, or look forward to such a lengthy recovery period."

Clarke sighed. "Maybe. But… Bellamy's told me a bit about Octavia, and it sounds like she was angry even before. Has been angry for a while now."

Kane nodded. "That would explain a lot, and it certainly won't help…"

"Have you spoken to Bellamy about… any of this?"

He shook his head. "We keep missing each other. He comes in every day after school… I believe he teaches at the high school?"

Kane's brows rose, as though he weren't quite sure, and when she nodded he continued.

"I've been in surgery every afternoon, so the others on the team have been filling him in. But I'll make it a point to talk to him myself today." He frowned. "Especially after what you just told me. If Octavia's going to recover, she needs to… cooperate."

Clarke nodded her agreement. "About her recovery… I was wondering, now that she's beginning to heal, what about… her face? You haven't mentioned that at all. I mean, she was an absolutely beautiful girl, Marcus. Bellamy showed me a picture."

Kane sighed.

"That's a whole other issue, I'm afraid. Her face was pretty banged up, and we did the best we could at the time, but my team was mostly focused on saving her life. And her arm. So when we remove those bandages, there may well be some facial scarring and bone displacement."

"But… surely that can be fixed, with all the advances in reconstructive surgery these days…"

Kane's palms slapped lightly onto the edge of his desk.

"I don't mean to dismiss your concerns, Clarke, but that's going to have to wait. Right now we're mostly concerned that she has no permanent brain damage. After that, well, we'll see."

Clarke tried to curb her impatience, but she couldn't help pressing the issue.

"Later on, then."

Kane looked uncomfortable. "There may be a number of problems, even later. We're talking a very specialized type of plastic surgery, and I'm not certain we even have those resources here at Ark City General."

Clarke didn't understand why this was so important to her, but it just… was. She'd looked at the picture of that beautiful, smiling young girl, and had somehow instantly felt like she had to do everything she could to help Octavia.

Wasn't it right to try to ensure that someone so young would not literally be scarred for life?

Of course, there was that tiny niggle in the back of her head that whispered that having seen the heavy load of responsibility he felt for his sister, the person she really wanted to help wasn't Octavia at all, but Bellamy.

Clarke closed off that train of thought immediately. Her motivations were, after all, irrelevant.

"So somewhere else, then," she persisted.

Kane hesitated, sighing. "To be very blunt, Clarke, have you considered what surgery like that might cost?"

"But the hospital has a lot of waivers for the under-insured…"

He nodded. "That's true. But they don't cover cosmetic surgery, and that's what this would likely be considered."

"Surely not!" Clarke was shocked.

Kane looked at her kindly. "It seems pointless to even worry about that now, Let's focus on making sure Octavia's brain functions are normal, and worry about everything else later."

Clarke sighed, knowing that he was right. And that for the moment she'd have to be content with that.

XXXXXXXXXX

Clarke's shifts were particularly busy over the next several days, leaving her little time to ponder what might be happening with either of the Blake siblings. She never did visit the billing office, or check in again on Octavia's progress. She told herself that was just as well, that her interest in the Blakes had begun to border on the obsessive. The she should step back, if only for her own peace of mind.

Still, when she looked up from the ER computer nearly a week later and found Bellamy watching her intently from the other side of the desk, she couldn't seem to stem the happy little zing that ran up her spine.

He gave her a warm smile. "Got a minute?"

She nodded, unable to keep from returning his smile. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to say thanks for helping me out with those forms, and… I was able to get waivers for some of Octavia's bills."

"I'm so glad…"

"Look," he broke in abruptly, "I know you're on duty, but, uh… I was wondering if you might want to meet my sister. Now that she's conscious, I mean," he added, his smile becoming wry.

"Oh! Well…"

"I understand if you're too busy," he said politely, but she couldn't rid herself of the impression that he was actually a little… disappointed.

"No, I have a break coming. Just give me a minute to finish this chart."

"Yeah?" His face brightened, and she felt absurdly pleased that she'd somehow made him happy.

Ten minutes later they were on the surgical floor, and Clarke thought Octavia must have heard their footsteps because she turned towards the doorway just as they reached it.

As a doctor, she was glad to see that Octavia was much improved, sitting up in bed, fully alert. But she imagined that Bellamy would be somewhat more focused on the sad state of his sister's face, which had a definite misshapen look — where it wasn't still swathed in bandages.

Of course, none of that was helped by the sour expression on her face. Or her words, when she opened her mouth.

"So, is this another one of your groupies, Bell? I thought you were hustling that tall brunette nurse who works weekends."

Bellamy flushed, but whether from embarrassment or anger, Clarke wasn't sure

"Jesus, O, give it a rest! This is Dr. Griffin. She's the one who treated you in the ER."

Octavia looked profoundly unimpressed.

"The ER? That was weeks ago. What the hell's she doing here now?"

Bellamy sighed. "She helped me out with some paperwork, too. I just… I thought you might want to meet her. Thank her, even."

Octavia studied Clarke with new interest. "This one should be thanked? Wow! She must have really caught your eye."

There was no mistaking Bellamy's anger now.

"I know I didn't raise you to be so fucking rude," he said, his voice tight. "Clarke, I'm really sorry," he added, not looking at her.

"Clarke, is it? First names, then. You do work fast, big brother."

Clarke supposed she should probably have been embarrassed, but mostly she just felt sorry for Bellamy, who looked like he wanted to kill his sister.

"Octavia," she broke in quickly, before he could blow his stack, completely ignoring the girl's rudeness. "I'm happy to see you're making such a good recovery."

Octavia's eyes narrowed. "Are you?"

"Of course! Have they talked to you about rehab for your arm? We have some really great people on staff here…"

But Octavia was having none of it. Nothing that smacked of being positive.

"You know, I'm suddenly feeling kinda tired," she interrupted, talking right over Clarke. "I need a nap, so I think you should go now, Bell."

Bellamy looked bewildered. "What? But I just got here. Don't you want to play cards? Or watch TV?"

She shook her head. "Not today, Bellamy."

Bellamy sighed, defeated. "Okay, O. Whatever you want."

Clarke nodded to the girl, and she and Bellamy were almost out the door when Octavia's voice stopped them.

"Hey, Dr. Clarke Griffin..."

"Yeah?" Clarke turned, surprised.

"Good job keeping me alive."

Clarke's smile and response were both sardonic. "Glad you approve."

Rude as Octavia Blake had been, Clarke found something endearing about her. Bellamy, on the other hand, looked thoroughly pissed off.

"Got time for a coffee in the fabulous food court?" she asked as they headed down the hall. Clarke told herself it was all about getting him out of his bad mood, and not at all about prolonging her time in his company.

"Yeah, sure," he said, making a feeble attempt at a smile.

Bellamy was quiet as they descended three floors and made their way out to the lobby. The silence lengthened as they got their drinks and found a spot to sit.

And then they both spoke at once.

"Octavia seems to be doing well…" "Look, I don't know what the hell she meant about any weekend nurse…"

Clarke blinked. That was what was bothering him?

"Pretty sure she was just trying to piss you off."

"Yeah? Well, she succeeded." He sighed. "But I'm glad her rudeness didn't upset you."

"She isn't my sister, Bellamy, so I don't have years of baggage affecting our every interaction." Her lips twisted into a wry smile. "Besides, surly patients come with the territory. It's hard to be cheery and polite when you're worried and feel like crap."

Bellamy nodded slowly, considering. "You're good at dealing with them. Like it comes naturally."

He studied her for a moment, opening his mouth and then closing it again firmly. Clarke could see the question hovering on his lips.

"What?" she said, eyeing him curiously.

He hesitated a moment longer before finally asking, "I… hope I'm not being nosy but did you always want to be a doctor?"

She shrugged, considering. "I'm… not really sure. I think so. My mother's a doctor, so in a way it was always kind of expected. Even by me."

"And your dad? Is he in medicine, too?"

"My dad… died when I was in my teens. But no, he was an engineer."

He nodded sympathetically, but then his eyes narrowed as he seemed to consider her response to his questions. And for an instant Bellamy's face took on a pinched, sullen look.

"A doctor and an engineer," he muttered. "Bet you've never had to worry about hospital bills..."

He broke off quickly, shaking his head, his lips thinning in chagrin. "Sorry. Forget I said that."

"No, it's okay. I understand how you might find that… frustrating. And you're right. I've never had to worry about money, mostly thanks to my grandfather, who was some kind of entrepreneurial genius. But having money — or not — it's just the luck of the draw, Bellamy. It doesn't define who we are, or what we can do with our lives."

She eyed him intently. "And I think you're proof of that, considering everything you've had to overcome to get where you are today. Including taking responsibility for a sibling when you were barely out of childhood yourself."

He shrugged lightly and blinked down at his cup. "Maybe. I don't think Octavia quite sees it… sees me… like that. She always wanted things that," he sighed heavily, "I just couldn't give her. And it made her angry. Bitter, even. And now…"

He looked up and said earnestly, "I honestly don't know if she'd be able to deal if they can't… fix her face. I'm not sure she even realizes yet…"

He shook his head in confusion.

"What does Dr. Kane say?" Clarke asked the question exactly like she didn't already know the answer.

"That we'll have to wait until she heals." He huffed in frustration. "But eventually Octavia's going to figure out how she looks. And I need to be able to tell her it'll be okay, that they can…fix it. But how the hell can I do that if I can't get any kind of commitment from Kane?"

Clarke understood that Kane was just putting it off. Hoping Octavia would be able to deal with the bad news about her face if the rest of her was more recovered. After meeting Octavia, she knew that was a vain hope.

Despite Kane's reticence — despite the damn hospital protocol — she knew she should just tell Bellamy the truth right that second. That there was almost no chance Octavia was ever going to look like her old self again.

But somehow, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Let me look into it," she said instead, the words coming out before she could stop them.

Bellamy's eyes lit up. "Would you? That would be so great, Clarke. Thank you."

Guilt suffused her, and she hoped her smile didn't look as fake as it felt on her lips.

But all she said was, "Of course."

And then vowed to herself to leave no stone unturned.