A/N: Like I said...elements of canon.

Clarke rolled her eyes and chuckled at Jasper, who'd decided that it would be a good idea to eat everyone's limes and was currently making a face that belonged in a horror movie.

The bar had gotten more crowded since they'd arrived and the noise level had increased considerably, making speaking regularly difficult.

She felt Bryan scoot closer to her, leaning in to say, "Is he always this…" he trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

Clarke laughed, turning to face him. "Weird? Crazy? Juvenile? Yes. The answer is yes to all of the above. He's great though." She put a hand on his arm, which was resting on the table. "Are you having fun? Glad you came?"

He smiled, seemingly sincere. "Yeah. Your friends are great. And I have to admit, it's nice to get out of that hospital every once in a while. I should probably be sleeping right now, but where's the fun in that?"

Clarke smiled in complete understanding. "I know. We have to be back in…" She checked her watch and grimaced. "…nine hours. That's enough time for at least one more game of darts, right?"

"One more beer too, I'd say." Bryan winked, heading for the bar.

"Do you want to play darts?" Clarke heard Gina ask Bellamy from across the table.

"No." He replied, arms crossed as he slouched down in his seat, which was the position he'd been in for most of the night.

Gina sighed. "Want to dance?"

"No."

She rolled her eyes, turning to face him. "What is wrong with you tonight?"

He finally glanced up from his beer bottle to look at her. "What do you mean? Nothing's wrong."

"You're acting like a jerk, Bellamy."

He frowned. "No, I'm not."

"You haven't moved from this seat or had a conversation with anyone, including me, the entire night."

"So what?"

Gina just stared at him for a moment. "You know what? I think I'm going to go." She stood up but didn't leave yet, apparently waiting for his response.

He moved his attention back to his beer bottle. "K," he replied, seemingly unaffected.

Gina huffed, grabbing her purse and leaving.

Bellamy didn't even seem to notice.

Raven's eyebrows had risen so far, they were almost to her hairline. "Dude."

Bellamy's eyes flicked to her. "What?"

"You might want to go after her."

He scoffed. "What? Why?"

Raven's eyes opened even wider. "She's pretty pissed at you right now."

He took a drink of his beer. "Why? Cause I didn't want to dance? She'll get over it."

Raven's face slowly transformed into a smirk as she pulled out her phone and presumably started texting someone.

Now Bellamy was looking at her warily. "What's that look for?"

"Hmm? Nothing. Nothing at all." She continued pecking at her phone, still smirking.

Just then, Bryan returned with two beers, handing one to Clarke. "Darts?"

Clarke looked back at the table, where Bellamy had taken to glaring at Raven and Raven was still engrossed in her phone.

"Sure," she responded, following him to the empty dart board.

Bryan made sure there was enough distance between the table and them before he asked, "Everything okay? It seemed like I walked in on something. And did Bellamy's girlfriend leave?"

Clarke frowned. "Yeah. I'm not sure what's going on, honestly."

He watched her speculatively for a moment, rolling a dart in between his fingers. "Does Bellamy know I'm gay?"

Clarke's brow furrowed. "I don't know. I didn't say anything to him about it. Why?" Her eyes widened and she took a step closer to him. "He's not homophobic or anything. I promise he's not like that," she rushed. "His best friend is gay and he knows I'm bi. Your sexual orientation has nothing to do with why he's being an ass, I promise."

Bryan chuckled. "Actually, I think it might have a lot to do with it."

Raven took that moment to wrap her arm around Clarke's neck, almost choking her in the process. "What's up, Doctor-people?"

"Just kicking your friend's ass at darts," Bryan responded.

Clarke rolled her eyes and handed her darts to Raven. "Here, take over for me, will you? Someone needs to bring him down a peg or two."

"Sure," Raven replied, more than happy to trounce a male, especially at a physical activity. "You should probably go talk to Groucho over there anyway."

Clarke sighed, her gaze finding the back of Bellamy's head. "Why? Apparently I'm the reason he's being an ass. Won't me going over there make it worse?"

"Hmm," Raven pondered as she took her shot, easily making a bullseye.

Both girls chuckled as Bryan glared at them and then went to retrieve the darts.

When his back was to them, Raven whispered to Clarke, "You were hoping Miller was going to be here so you could introduce him to McDreamy over there, right?"

"Yeah, that was the plan. Why? You don't think it's a good idea?"

"No, I think it's a great idea. I'll let you know the next time Miller is hanging out with us so you can bring him by again."

Clarke smiled. "Thanks."

"Yup. Now go talk to him." She nodded in Bellamy's direction.

Clarke sighed, but walked over to the table anyway. "Bellamy, can we talk?"

He turned toward her, still scowling. "Why?"

"Please?" She gestured behind her, toward the exit.

Plunking his beer bottle down on the table, he sighed, then reluctantly got up to follow her.

Clarke waited until they'd made it outside, standing on the sidewalk outside the bar, before she turned to face him. "Seriously. Why are you being an ass? I know you have a problem with me being back, but you weren't even this pissed off last time. What changed?"

Bellamy started at her for a few minutes before scrubbing a hand over his face. "I don't know, Clarke. I thought I could deal with you being back, but then I remember what you did and…"

"So yell at me."

His gaze flicked to hers, surprised. "What?"

"Yell at me. Tell me what a bitch I am. Tell me I don't deserve anyone's forgiveness. Go ahead."

Bellamy looked rattled by her suggestion. "Clarke…"

"I can take it. And I think you need to say it if we ever have any hope of moving past this. So go ahead."

He still looked uncomfortable. "I'm not going to…"

Clarke interrupted him. "I hurt your sister, Bellamy. The person you love most in this entire world. I fucked her over and I broke her heart in the process. Yell at me."

Mentioning Octavia seemed to give him the anger he needed, and Clarke was sure the copious amounts of beer he'd consumed tonight helped him along as well. "You think this will help? Fine. I get that you thought you needed to get away or whatever, but why did you have to do that to my sister in the process?"

"I don't know."

Bellamy started pacing in front of her on the sidewalk. "You know she doesn't trust people, Clarke. She doesn't let anyone in, not really. She probably has dozens of friends, but she keeps them all at a distance. The way we grew up, we learned not to let anyone in, not to trust anyone." He stopped and got in her face. "No one but each other. And then you come along and worm your way in until she thought you were family. Family, Clarke. She trusted you. She thought you were in our lives for good. And then you find out some terrible news, and I get that it was horrible, finding that out. Trust me, I get it. But Octavia…she would have been there for you. She would have helped you get through it. She even tried to give you your space, but then you were just gone. We even tried to get you to come back and you just..." He stared deep into her eyes, almost beseechingly. "Why didn't you let…her…help you? Why did you disappear, like everyone else in our lives? You betrayed her, Clarke. Do you even get that?"

Clarke was struck by the desperation in his voice and it brought her near tears. "I do, Bellamy. I hate that I did that to her. She trusted me, and I failed her. I feel absolutely horrible about hurting her. She was my family too and she still is. I don't know what else to say except that I'm sorry and it won't happen again."

He just stood there watching her, breathing heavily as if his speech had cost him a lot. Frowning, he hesitantly replied, "I just don't know if that's enough, Clarke."

She stepped closer to him. "I understand your anger, Bellamy, I do. And I'm not saying we can act like it never happened and go back to normal tomorrow. But you're acting like you're never going to be able to be in the same room with me again." Her eyes searched his. "Octavia has already forgiven me. Why do you seem even angrier than she was?"

Color rose to Bellamy's cheeks and he gestured wildly. "I'm her older brother, Clarke! I've taken care of her since she was an infant! I protect her. I make sure she doesn't get hurt. And I let her get taken in by you." He hunched over, his face coming even closer to hers. "I was distrustful of you when I first met you when I helped Octavia move into the freshman dorms all those years ago. All that money, all those friends in high places, all those silver spoons…I told Octavia not to get close to you…that there was no way you knew how to be a good friend. You had to be selfish and manipulative, just like everyone else we'd ever known, and all that wealth had to make you even worse. But then you started helping O with her chemistry homework, even when you had homework of your own…and then you'd text me to let me know she was okay after frat parties and football games because you knew I was worried sick and she was already passed out in her dorm bed…and then you started coming over to my apartment with her for dinner and half the time you'd try to help and you'd ruin whatever I was making, but it was fine because we'd just order Panda Hut and sit on the floor watching Twilight Zone marathons. And I saw Octavia letting you further and further into her life, and I stopped warning her against it. Especially after you started inviting us to your Mom's for holiday dinners." He paused, taking what appeared to be his first real breath since he'd begun. "Did you know I didn't want to go to that first Thanksgiving? I told O that we'd have to dress up and go sit at some stuffy table in a mansion for a couple hours of forced conversation and dry turkey while your Mom judged us because we weren't good enough. But then you made us get there like six hours early and answered the door with flour in your hair. Your Mom taught Octavia how to make your Grandma's stuffing and you and I spent like an hour and a half trying to scoop the insides out of a pumpkin so you could make a pie. I'll still never understand how you can make pies from scratch but can't manage to boil pasta correctly, by the way."

Clarke just raised an eyebrow at him, knowing his drunk rant wasn't over.

"That kind of shit, Clarke…it makes you think someone is going to be around forever. We'd…" He stopped, frowning before he corrected himself. "Octavia had never had that, Clarke. And then she started going to you for things she used to only come to me for: advice about school, help with big decisions…she started going to you. And, I'm not going to lie, it hurt a little at first. But then I realized that it was okay because it was you. You were family. You'd help her. And lord knows, you were 100 times smarter than I ever was."

Clarke started shaking her head in protest. "Bell…"

He kept going over her. "Against all our better judgements, we let you into our family. And then the minute things got bad for you, you disappeared."

Clarke had been trying to keep the tears at bay for most of his speech, but now a spark of anger found its way through. "Bellamy, things got a little more than 'bad' for me."

He stepped even closer to her, seemingly not realizing that they were already within each other's personal space. "I know, Clarke. And Octavia and I were heartbroken for you. All we wanted to do was help you. You'd been there so many times for us, and we wanted to be there for you."

"I didn't WANT you to be there for me!" Clarke practically shouted.

He looked perhaps the saddest she'd ever seen him. "Why?"

She looked away, not ready to answer the question or even think about it, really.

After standing there, watching her for what seemed like an eternity, he finally took a step back.

Her gaze found his again. She was almost surprised that there seemed to be little anger there; it was mostly hurt.

"Maybe someday you'll be ready to tell me, Clarke," he said sadly, taking a few steps backward before turning on his heel and walking down the street in the direction of his apartment.

Clarke stood there, the chilly night air finally registering as she realized how truly alone she was in this moment. She felt herself shivering, but she honestly wasn't sure if it was due to the cool temperature or the fact that she'd hurt someone she cared about even worse than she'd previously thought and their relationship seemed irreparable.

She startled when a voice came from the alleyway just around the corner.

"You know that was a load of horseshit, right?"

Clarke frowned, turning around to find Murphy emerging from the shadows, tossing a cigarette butt into the street. "Were you standing there the whole time?"

He just shrugged.

"Asshole." Clarke muttered.

"You say this like it surprises you."

"It really doesn't." She rolled her eyes, sitting on the curb. "Why do you always show up at the worst times?"

He sank down beside her. "Just luck, I guess."

She buried her face in her hands. "Yeah. My horrible luck."

They sat like that for a moment in silence.

She finally raised her head slightly, turning to look at him. "I didn't mean…" She sighed. "You know how grateful I am for what you did for me."

He nodded, still facing the street. "He would have killed me if I didn't."

Clarke frowned as Murphy's earlier words came back to her. "What did you mean earlier? You think Bellamy was making that stuff up?"

He finally glanced at her, eyebrow raised. "No, not exactly."

"Then what?"

Murphy pulled another cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, taking his time before answering. "You know, he used to ask me about you all the time?"

Clarke's breath hitched. "When?"

"When you first went off the deep end and got involved with Lexa and the rest of the crew. He was pissed…they all were…but he'd still ask me if you were okay. It took a lot for him to do it, but he was worried about you."

Clarke just stared at Murphy, trying to process the information.

Murphy worked for the same construction company Bellamy did and though they'd often butted heads in the past, even coming to blows once or twice, they'd reached some sort of truce a couple years ago. Murphy wasn't exactly invited to game night, but he wasn't ignored when they saw him in public anymore either.

Clarke had never particularly cared for him, but he'd proven that he wasn't quite as despicable as she'd once thought.

"So, if I went off the deep end when I got involved with Lexa and the crew, what does that make you?" She asked wryly.

He smirked. "It makes me someone who likes to have fun and occasionally use drugs recreationally."

There was another pause as they both let that sink in and came to the next logical step.

"You weren't there to have fun, Clarke."

"No. I wasn't."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Clarke asked, "How's Emori?"

"She's fine."

"She was nice to me." Clarke said, referring to Murphy's on-again off-again something. "Well…not exactly nice…"

Murphy snorted.

"But really though. She took care of me, certainly more than anyone else did. She dragged me into the kitchen and made me eat more times than I can even remember." Clarke plucked at a stray thread on her jeans. "Lexa couldn't even bother to do that."

Murphy nodded, unsurprised. "We've been distancing ourselves a little," he said quietly.

Clarke looked at him in surprise. "From Lexa?"

He nodded.

"That's…that's really great, Murphy. I hope you and Emori both get out. It's not…It's not a good place. You both deserve better."

They returned to their natural silence, watching the occasional car drive past on the mostly deserted street in front of them.

"Are you going to go after him?" Murphy asked after a few long minutes.

Clarke sighed. "I don't think that's a good idea. He's not ready to forgive me. I hurt Octavia too badly."

Murphy snorted.

Clarke's head pivoted to look at him. "What?"

"You hurt Octavia too badly?"

Nodding, Clarke kept watching him warily, not sure what his tone was implying. "You heard him," she reminded him.

"Yeah. I did," he replied coyly.

Clarke sighed, running a hand through her windblown hair. "I'm not in the mood for games, Murphy. Just spit it out."

He flicked his cigarette out into the street, then stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. "Did you hear all that shit he was saying? Really hear it?"

Frowning, Clarke thought back to a few minutes ago. "Of course I did."

"He was using the wrong pronoun."

Clarke's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Now it was Murphy's turn to sigh as he glanced away, uncomfortable with what he was about to reveal. "I know what it's like to grow up on your own too. Trusting anyone leaves you vulnerable and you learn real quick it's not worth it." He looked back at her. "All that shit he was saying wasn't just about Octavia. You realize that, right?"

Clarke's eyes widened as she realized his implication. "But he and I weren't…" She frowned as she thought about it. "We weren't really even that close… Octavia was my best friend…"

Murphy prodded. "And what was Bellamy?"

Clarke thought back, visions of the past six years playing in her head like a slideshow. Of course she'd only been close with Octavia in the beginning, but before long, it had been the three of them; eating take-out on his living room floor, rock climbing at the rec center, camping by the lake on the weekends…it had been the three of them. The older they got, Clarke realized that more and more often, it had been just her and Bellamy. Octavia had gotten busier and started dating more often, and it had just seemed natural to still hang out with Bellamy, even when Octavia wasn't there.

Baseball games in the dead of summer, pints of beer at the English pub near the river, baking Christmas cookies and ending up covered in flour and food coloring…they were some of the best memories she had, and they only involved Bellamy.

He'd become the most important person in her life and she hadn't even realized it. Or…she had, but it was somehow easier to keep thinking of him as Octavia's older brother.

Why, she wasn't sure.

She abruptly stood. "I need to go."

Murphy smirked. "Thought you might."