CHAPTER 18 : Her
04/02/2019
None of this was supposed to happen.
Clarke didn't want any of this.
But it happened out of nowhere, unpredictable, unavoidable.
She stood still, cursing herself internally. She should've been better prepared. After all, nothing lasts.
It was stupid really – how and where it happened. Clarke just needed to go shopping, since she had nothing left in her fridge. So, she found herself in Walmart, struggling to hold bottles of milk and orange juice in her arms. Maybe if she'd just put it all in a shopping cart, she wouldn't have found herself in this situation.
But no, of course she insisted on picking something else up. She extended her hand, and that's when one of the bottles fell to the ground.
Nothing dramatic. That wasn't the most important part.
She sighed, already kneeling to pick it back up, when she spotted the black shoes stopping near her. She watched as the long, brown hair covered the face of the woman taking the bottle before she straightened up.
Clarke didn't immediately notice.
She straightened up, too.
"Here," the woman said, handing her the bottle.
"Thanks," Clarke smiled, taking it back.
Clarke raised her gaze then, her eyes locking with the woman's.
'Fuck', she thought.
Both women remained silent for a second.
"Clarke?" Emori asked, as if she couldn't believe it was her.
Clarke swallowed, hard. She was used to anxiety, she'd been fighting it almost her entire life. Which is why she knew, at that very moment, that she wouldn't be able to control anything. Her chest felt heavy already, the panic taking over her every thought.
"What are you doing here?" Emori asked, her eyes widening. "I thought you were…"
"Em! I found the eggs. Do you think we sh-" someone said, behind her.
At first, Clarke couldn't see him, hidden behind Emori. But then, the brunette stepped aside, turning around to face Murphy. That's when he spotted Clarke, and stopped talking. She watched him going through a different range of emotions within a few seconds – shock, confusion, anger. She did nothing, said nothing. Clarke was just… frozen. Numb and overwhelmed at the same time.
It was over. Everything.
Murphy knew. He knew what happened. He knew why she shouldn't be here.
And he knew she'd come back.
"What the h-"
She didn't hear what he said, after that. She wasn't even conscious of what she was doing, only that she couldn't breathe. She had to leave. It was over. Soon, everyone would know. It was over, over, over.
She must've gotten rid of the bottles somehow, because she wasn't holding them anymore. Maybe she'd dropped them, or put them somewhere. She couldn't remember. She realized she was on the parking lot, her feet leading her to her car. The next moment, she was breaking down completely, her whole body shaking, hidden in the vehicle. A part of her wished she could die there, just like that.
~oOo~
Claire wasn't answering.
And Bellamy had a bad feeling.
It wasn't about the other night, because they'd agreed on meeting again later on the week – which was today. If Claire didn't want to see him, he believes she would've said so. So, it was very unlike her to not show up at the café, and to not even respond to his text. He'd called her three times too, and nothing.
It frustrated him, being in the dark. If something happened to her in the last few days, Bellamy didn't know about it. He'd spent all his time by his sister and his nephew's side – Noah. He'd put his issues aside for this moment, his heart busting with joy and pride for his Octavia and her little boy. It felt strange, seeing his baby sister having a baby herself, but also amazing. The boy looked way too much like his dad, though.
But now, Bellamy's thoughts were all focused on Claire. Something was wrong.
Finally, he'd decided to go to Monty and Harper's house. He had to make sure she was doing okay, and the only way to do that, at the moment, was to confront her directly, hoping she wouldn't push him away.
He sighed, staring at the front door. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing. Maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe her phone was just out of battery, and Claire would be surprised to find him there.
He rang. And waited. He didn't want to insist too much because, again, he could be making things up in his head. But a few minutes passed, and no response. He rang again.
Nothing happened.
He frowned, feeling more and more concerned about the situation. Where could she be? What happened? Did he say something wrong? What if she'd left town without telling him?
He felt his phone buzzing in his jeans pocket. He immediately picked it up, hoping it was Claire. He couldn't help but feel disappointed when he saw Miller's name on the screen. It was a very short text message.
'Hey, you home?'
Bellamy quickly typed something. He and Miller still weren't on very good terms, but he didn't want to be a total jerk to him.
'Nope, had something to do.'
He put the phone back in his pocket, and after hesitating, rang the doorbell again. For the last time, he promised himself.
His phone buzzed for the second time, and since he didn't have anything else to do but to stare at that door, he looked at it.
'Where are u? Maybe we could talk,' Miller was asking.
Bellamy frowned. Why all of these questions? It was very unlike his friend to insist so much. Plus, Bellamy wasn't sure he was ready to face Miller, yet. There was so much to be said. Bellamy winced, unsure of what to answer to that.
The door opened.
Bellamy looked up suddenly, taken aback. A smile was already on his lips. Thank God. At this point he didn't expect her to be there. It almost felt like a miracle. But the relief he felt, the second he saw the door opening, faded the second his eyes landed on her face.
It was her, Claire.
And she looked devastated.
Her short hair, circling her face, was a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy, dark circles under them. Her cheeks seemed wet. She looked pale.
She seemed so terribly defeated, that Bellamy felt his heart break in his chest.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice shaking, not even looking at him.
Bellamy was so shocked that he didn't what to say.
"W-What…? Claire… Oh my god…" he only managed to stammer.
He instinctively moved towards her, just a step, but she immediately backed away.
"No…" she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "Please…"
Bellamy's heart shattered, as if it could be more broken than it already was. He watched her as she closed her eyes, and the tears rolled down her cheeks. He took a shaky breath, putting his phone back in his pocket. He was not leaving her. Not… like this. Even if she didn't want him here.
"Claire…" he said, smoothly. "Please, tell me what's going on."
But she only shook her hand, struggling not to cry, and still refusing to look at him.
"No…" she said, again.
"Claire…"
"STOP!" she shouted all of the sudden, and Bellamy startled.
He stared at her, completely lost. He didn't understand. Stop what? What should he do? He put his hands in his hair then put them in his pocket, only to get them out and play with them. He didn't know what to do with himself, with his body. And Claire was fully crying.
"Stop!" she repeated. "Stop doing this…"
She hid her face behind her hands, but he could hear the muffled sound of her sobs. This time, her complaints didn't stop him from getting closer to her. He didn't touch her, though, afraid of her reaction if he did.
"What is it?" he asked her, trying his best to sound reassuring.
The last thing he wanted was for her to feel obligated to talk to him. He only wished to be there for her, to help her. And maybe she didn't need him, but leaving her alone wasn't a great option. She kept stepping back, so much so that Bellamy ended up entering the house with her. Once he was inside, he slowly closed the door behind him – he was not leaving so if Claire had to scream at him for some reason, then at least she could do it in private. Bellamy was mentally preparing himself to whatever situation he was about to face. Good or bad. At the moment, it looked pretty bad.
He didn't say anything as he watched her, his back leaning on the door. He didn't know what to do. He felt useless, powerless. He didn't dare to do anything. He just knew he had to be with her.
"I can't do this," Claire murmured between two sobs.
She turned her back on him then, almost running to the living room, as if she was trying to flee.
"Wait!" Bellamy said, immediately following her.
She turned around for a split second, and seeing he was still close – turned to the right. She disappeared from his sight for a short moment, until Bellamy reached the stairs. She went upstairs, he realized. He didn't hesitate before walking upstairs to join her. Once upstairs, he stopped. He was in a corridor, with four doors. Three were closed, one was slightly opened. He could hear muffled sounds coming from that room, which made things easier. He knew she probably wanted him to leave her alone. But… he couldn't. Not unless she asked him to, which she didn't. Yet.
He took a deep breath, clenched his jaw, and went in.
Claire was pacing in the rooms, her hands clenching her hair. Her breathing was heavy, uneven. She was shaking. That's when realization hit him – she was having a panic attack.
Bellamy straightened, and took a step closer.
"Claire, listen to me."
"No…"
"Just… take a deep breath. Okay? Do it with me," he said, echoing what she'd told him the night he'd called her.
He remembered how frightened he was, how much he struggled before deciding to phone her. He remembered how peaceful he felt later, just listening to the sound of her voice.
He was hoping he could do the same for her.
"I – I can't…" Clarke sobbed, shaking her head.
"Yes, you can. Listen to me. Inhale…" he said, getting closer, his hands raised before him but not quite reaching out to her.
"No… No, no, no."
"It's okay."
He took another step closer. She didn't back away.
"I… I… This is all…" she tried to say, struggling to breathe properly.
"It's okay," he repeated. "Breathe."
"No, but you don't understand!" she shouted, stepping back just a little. "You don't know! I can't… Don't you see? Don't you see what's happening? What I am… what I've become?"
Bellamy shook his head, confused. But he wasn't hearing what she was saying, not really. The only thing that mattered was her wellbeing. He had to make sure she would be fine. Slowly, very slowly, he put his hand on her arm. He caught his breath, waiting for her to back away once again, but she didn't. Instead, she kept shouting and crying.
"No… I just… It feels like I'm dying. I'm going to die… I'm…" she said, and he took her in his arms.
It only made her cry harder, but her arms circles around his waist, and she clang to him as if he was the only thing maintaining her alive.
"You're not going to die," He murmured in her ear.
"I… It's too much…"
His hands moved tenderly on her back, in her hair, trying to soothe her.
"It's okay. Breathe."
He started to breathe loudly, so that she could focus on him and attempt to do the same. He could feel her shaking, so he tightened his grip around her. He felt the need to protect her, and this feeling was so strong he couldn't quite explain it. He kept stroking her hair, breathing in and out. She was still sobbing, but she'd stopped shouting.
"You're okay… You're okay…" he would whisper, again and again.
His head came to rest on her shoulder, her hair tickling his nose. It felt like they were in an unbreakable bubble. He listened to her breathing, as she was slowly calming down. A small part of his shirt was wet with her tears.
Their legs were touching the bed, on their left. Without taking his arms off her, Bellamy sat down on it with her. As she stopped sobbing and started breathing normally again, her body relaxed against him, as if it was losing all its energy. She needed to rest.
Bellamy lied her down with him, making sure she felt comfortable. She remained cuddled up with him, her body shifting slightly so she could lay her head on his chest. He stared at her face, stroking her hair, as her eyes were closing. He kept doing so until she'd fallen asleep in his arms, her hands still clinging to his shirt. She looked so peaceful, so… beautiful. He didn't want this moment to end. He wanted to be right there, with her, in this bed. He wanted to forget the rest of the world, and spend the rest of his life like this.
He couldn't stop touching her hair, her face, her hands. He couldn't take his eyes off her.
In this bittersweet moment, he felt… happy. Because he was with her.
Because his heart was beating too fast and it felt so warm in his chest. And maybe he shouldn't feel this way.
But it didn't matter.
Within a few weeks, his life had completely changed. He'd met this mysterious, clumsy, talented, beautiful girl. She was like an angel, fallen from the sky to give him the answers he didn't even know he was looking for. She was a miracle. She made him feel alive, when he felt like he was living the life of a stranger.
Because, sometime during all that time, he'd fallen in love with her.
Perhaps this realization should've shocked him, surprised him. But it was the opposite.
It just… made sense. As if it was always meant to be.
Loving her was like coming home. It was like… finding the missing piece of the puzzle.
~oOo~
He must've fallen asleep, too, because something startled him. He opened his eyes, not quite comprehending what had woken him up. He felt a bit dizzy, and he couldn't feel his arms, still tightened around Claire's body. He smiled as his heart missed a beat, his eyes landing on her face. She was still asleep, which was good. He wouldn't disturb her.
He planned on staying with her a bit longer when the doorbell rang – and he realized that was the reason he'd woken up. The sound of the doorbell.
It rang again, insistent. Bellamy frowned.
Strange. Was she expecting someone?
He looked back at her, hesitating. Maybe it wasn't important…
It rang again.
'Okay, fine.' he thought, sighing. Maybe it was important, after all.
Careful not to wake her up, Bellamy slowly took his left arm from under her head, and put her hands away from his chest. He already missed her touch, but whoever was at the door was clearly impatient.
He got up carefully, making sure she remained asleep, then tip toed on his way downstairs. He was a second away from the front door when it rang again.
"Coming!" he called out, irritated by the sound.
He realized he didn't have the keys to open the door, obviously. He had to search around for a minute, but fortunately they were easy to find. He hurried to open the door.
Nothing could've prepared him to what he found behind it.
Bellamy stood there, in shock.
"Miller?"
But Miller didn't seem surprised to find him there. Instead, he looked… disappointed.
"So, it's true," He said, sighing.
Bellamy frowned, more confused than ever.
"What are you talking about? How did you know where I was?" Bellamy asked.
Miller shook his head, clenching his jaw. Bellamy could see the anger taking over his eyes.
"I didn't," his friend said, coldly. "Murphy told me what I needed to know. I guessed the rest."
"What?"
Miller took a step closer, threatening.
"Don't play this game with me, Bellamy. Where is she?"
Bellamy tensed, understanding.
He knew about Claire. He knew about their little secret.
Bellamy felt the anger grow inside his chest, remembering Miller was the first to keep things hidden from him.
"You knew her," he said through his teeth. "You knew her, and you didn't fucking tell me about her."
"You don't even know who she is," Miller said, raising his voice.
These words only enraged Bellamy even more.
"I don't know who you are. You've been lying to me for the past three years!" Bellamy shouted, slowly losing it.
Miller scoffed.
"And you think she didn't lie to you?"
That made Bellamy stop.
He hated to admit it to himself, but he had doubted Claire in the past. He wished he had unwavering faith in her, but he remembered her hesitations, or the way she would look down when she answered his questions, sometimes. He wanted to contradict Miller, but he couldn't. He hated that feeling.
Miller took his silence as a confirmation.
"See? You don't know what happened. And if you did, you wished you'd never met Clarke before."
Bellamy froze.
How did he just call her?
"What…?"
"Bellamy?" a voice said, behind him.
He turned around, and saw her standing there, frowning.
He watched the shock take over her face as she realized who was standing in the doorway.
But Bellamy couldn't think anymore. He could only hear a name.
"Welcome back, Clarke," Miller told her, as if he was spitting the words in her face.
She didn't move, didn't say anything.
"… Clarke?" Bellamy asked, because it couldn't be true.
Her eyes locked with his.
And he immediately understood what she wanted to tell him.
He wished he didn't. He wished he was blind.
I'm sorry, she was saying.
Clarke. Her name was Clarke. And he didn't know her.
