Enjoy! Sorry these next two chapters are a little bit shorter than I'd like. For some reason they were kinda hard to write.

Chapter 33

Clarke opened her eyes when she heard the door open slowly. She gripped Bellamy's hand tightly; dread coiling in the pit of her stomach. She could feel a headache coming on, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

She watched as her mother entered the room, quiet and all smiles. Abby made her way to her side, taking the hand that Bellamy wasn't holding.

"How are you feeling, honey", she asked.

"Tired", Clarke answered shortly, "But I'm ready to have that talk now."

Abby looked startled for a moment before nodding, "Sure, Clarke. Bellamy would you give us a moment?"

Clarke turned to look at him, her eyes begging him to stay. She could see how his muscles tensed beneath his clean white t-shirt, and his jaw clenched causing the lines of his face to become even more pronounced. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and leaned back in his chair.

The look he sent her mother would have elicited a giggle if tension didn't hang thick in the air. His dark eyes were angry, and the gently caress of his fingers against her skin bespoke his overprotective instinct.

"I think I'll stay right here, Mrs. Griffin", he growled.

"But…"

"Mom, if you want to have this talk, then you have it in front of Bellamy because he's not going anywhere", Clarke said.

"Alright. Honey, I'm sorry about everything. I shouldn't have thrown you out like I did, but you could have come to see me. I would have loved to have heard from you."

"You knew where I was. It was no secret that I live with the Blakes. You didn't even show up to my high school graduation. Mom, I love you but you aren't part of my life anymore and that was your choice. I'm not going to come crawling back to you. I forgive you for everything, not because you deserve it but because it will be more harmful for me to hang on to my anger."

"It wasn't my decision for you to emancipate yourself, or for you to spend every waking hour with THEM", Abby said with a glare in Bellamy's direction.

"THEY were my only family after Dad died. They took me in, even though they certainly didn't have to. You abandoned me, and I don't want to go back."

"Clarke, I am your mother! You…", Abby said, but then stopped.

Clarke was so tired, and she felt something within her snap. "No, you're not! Mothers don't leave their children! Mothers don't make their children feel like they don't matter! Mothers don't…"

Clarke stopped, her breath hitched painfully in her chest and black dots danced in her vision. She felt Bellamy's hand rubbing up and down her arm, could hear his voice, deep and soothing.

She turned terrified eyes upon him, silently begging him to make it stop.

"Shhh, you're ok. I'm right here", he said, "Just breathe."

At the sound of his voice, Clarke began to relax. Her breathing began to slow, and her heart rate came under control. She kept her eyes on his face, concentrating on his voice and the feel of his touch against her skin.

"Bell, I can't…", she said, tears burning her eyes.

"I know, it's ok. I'll handle it."

She felt Bellamy stand, his hand falling from her own.

"Get some rest, Princess, your mother just realized she has somewhere to be", Bellamy bit out.

Clarke looked up at him, and almost felt sorry for her mother for what was to come. An angry Bellamy Blake was a force to be reckoned with. She watched as her dark knight led her mother from the room, his fingers flexing in frustration.

She laid back, her eyes closing once more. Memories flitted in and out, until she saw a young Bellamy, his dark eyes boring into her own.

Clarke lay in her bed, the things she'd gathered from her childhood home scattered about the room. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she couldn't help the little sob that escaped from her quivering lips.

She rolled over, clutching a pillow to her chest. Her gaze traveled over her room taking in the sky blue walls, various pieces she'd painted over the years, and pictures of her and Octavia and Bellamy.

This room had become an escape after her father died. Bellamy had spent hours painting it, surprising her after school one day. The color had shocked her, as did how much she loved it.

He'd told her it was hers for as long as she wanted it. It had been the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, but that was Bellamy- ever caring and trying his best to take care of his loved ones.

She couldn't pin point the exact moment she'd become part of their family and they had become hers. Lying in her bed, her world crashing down around her, she was thankful for them- thankful for what they meant to her.

Clarke heard the door open and a tiny stream of light filtered into the darkness. Footsteps, light and sure, echoed in the quiet and then her mattress shifted as he sat down.

How she knew it was Bellamy she didn't understand. She just always knew. Maybe it was the way he walked, or maybe it was just a feeling. It didn't matter where she was, she always knew when he entered a room.

She scooted over slightly, feeling his hand on her back rubbing slow soothing circles. He didn't speak, didn't tell her everything was going to be ok. He just sat in the silence offering strength and comfort.

Warmth seeped through her thin pajamas where his hand now sat motionless on her shoulder. She could almost see his dark eyes, light refracting in their depths giving them an otherworldly glow. Then she spoke, letting all of her hurt and anger taint her words.

"Why doesn't she want me", Clarke cried.

She felt him shift, his hand curling around her chin and bringing her eyes up to meet his own.

"Princess, look at me", Bellamy whispered; only continuing when her eyes met his, "This is not your fault. Your mom is the one losing out by not having you in her life. I know it hurts now, but soon you'll understand that this is her problem not yours."

Clarke stared at him, his earnest expression and the tender light in his dark brown eyes making her realize he was right. She nodded, a watery smile curving her lips.

It suddenly struck her how odd their relationship was. They took care of one another, never expecting anything in return. It was as if there was an invisible string that tethered his heart to hers.

"You're right, Bell. Thank you for taking care of me."

"You're welcome, Princess. Now get some sleep", he whispered.

Clarke closed her eyes, and she didn't flinch when a light kiss caressed her forehead. She peaked through her lashes, watching as he left the room.

"Goodnight, Bell", she called.

"Night, Princess", he returned, the smile evident in his voice.

Clarke sighed, his words from all those years ago still acting as a balm on her tattered heart. Even though things were messed up with her mother, she still had the one constant she'd always had throughout her life- Bellamy Blake.

Thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you thought! :)