A/N: In case you didn't notice, I just updated the chapter count. There will be 38 total. (ahhhhh, I can't believe I'm almost done with this monster lmao)
Clarke plodded her way down Bellamy's hallway, eyes bleary and fighting to stay open as she got closer and closer to his doorway, although it felt like a herculean effort.
It had been a couple days since his birthday party, and they'd both been too busy with work to hang out, but they had been communicating regularly via text.
Clarke had been scheduled to work the 6 pm to 6 am shift last night, and around 5 am, she'd been exhausted and had seriously contemplated how weird it would be if she let herself into Bellamy's apartment and crawled into bed with him.
The rewards of falling into a nice, warm bed with the man she loved (who happened to live five minutes away) were definitely outweighing the risks, at least in her mind.
That pro/con spreadsheet had immediately gone by the wayside when they'd been alerted to multiple incoming ambulances and dozens of injuries, some of them serious.
There had been a major wreck on the interstate; a drunk driver, still up from the night before, had gotten on the interstate going the wrong way, and he'd run straight into the early-morning commuters. What resulted was a huge pile up, two dead at the scene, at least a dozen seriously injured, and dozens more that were coming in with minor injuries that still needed to be tended to.
Everyone had immediately gone into triage mode in the ER, surgeries had been started immediately on the patients in the most dire of situations, and any thought of Clarke clocking out had disappeared.
In fact, most of the staff had to stay, even if they were at the end of their shifts, because most of the doctors and nurses that were supposed to relieve them were stuck in traffic behind the wreck, and emergency personnel had informed them that it would be hours before they'd be able to get the interstate cleared up and back open.
Clarke had helped with triage, assisted on a couple surgeries, and then spent the rest of her time setting broken bones, removing gravel and glass, and stitching people up.
She'd worked a full 24 hours, and she was exhausted, which is how she found herself here, at Bellamy's, without even really thinking about it.
She hadn't even texted first, but she didn't think he'd mind.
Finally reaching his door, she knocked a few times, leaning up against the wall as she waited for him to answer.
He did, just a moment later, his eyes immediately widening at the sight of her, half-conscious and melting into the wall outside his door.
"Clarke! What's wrong?" he asked, reaching a hand out to steady her.
"Can I sleep?" she asked. She was fairly sure there should be more words in that sentence, but she was too tired to figure it out at the moment.
He studied her for a moment, and when she straightened from the wall, and swayed a little, he immediately reached for her, one arm going under her knees and the other around her back, picking her up as if it was nothing.
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that he was being ridiculous and he should put her down…but she instead gave into the comfort his warmth offered and his strength, which allowed her to finally relax.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and burrowed her head into his chest and her eyes almost immediately shut of their own volition.
He carried her into his apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. "Hey, Clarke, talk to me. Are you sick? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"
She shook her head against his shoulder. "Just left there. I just need to sleep. Can I sleep here?"
"Yeah. Of course," he insisted, carrying her across his living room.
"You can put me down. I can walk," she murmured against his chest, although, if anything, she tightened her arms around his neck.
She could feel the rumble in his chest as he chuckled. "Sure, Princess," he agreed, even as he made no move to let her go.
He carried her into his bedroom, setting her gently on the bed. "Let me get you clothes," he said, quickly going to his dresser and grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, then handing them to her. "You okay?" he asked, looking a little uncomfortable.
She took the clothes from him, nodding, and he quickly walked out, pulling the door shut behind him.
She kicked her tennis shoes off, watching in some sort of trance as they flopped halfway across the room.
It was another minute or two before she managed to snap out of it enough to take her clothes off, and by the time she'd removed her scrubs and her socks and then put Bellamy's oversized t-shirt on, she decided she didn't have the energy left that would be required to put on the sweatpants, so she dropped them onto her pile of clothes on the floor and slid into bed.
She took a moment to be grateful that she'd taken a two-minute shower before she'd left the hospital, because the feeling of sliding into crisp, clean sheets, especially with bare legs, was a comfort that felt especially wonderful right now, and she would've hated to ruin that effect by smelling like she'd spent 24 hours in a hospital.
She pulled the covers over her and laid down near the middle of the bed, almost expecting sleep to claim her before her head could even properly hit the pillow.
To her surprise, it didn't, and a couple minutes later, there was a trio of brisk knocks on the door.
"Come in," she answered.
He opened the door, peeking around it and smiling when he saw she'd indeed managed to get herself into bed without keeling over.
He walked to the foot of the bed, still looking a bit worried. "What happened?"
She nodded to the spot beside her. "C'mere?"
He looked slightly taken aback for a second, but he quickly hid it, shaking his head once and then heading toward her.
"The pile up happened just before my shift ended. I had to work a double, and I've been up for over 30 hours. I feel like I'm going to pass out," she told him as he got into bed behind her and she immediately scooted back and grabbed his arm, pulling it around her so they were effectively spooning.
"Jesus, Clarke. You didn't drive, did you? I would have picked you up."
She shook her head into the pillow. "Bryan dropped me off. He only worked one shift."
He pulled her even further into his body. "Get some sleep," he murmured into her hair.
She nodded, burrowing further into the pillow and more than ready to let sleep claim her.
The problem was…it didn't.
She was so exhausted, she felt on the verge of tears, and also on the verge of nausea, but no matter how much she tried to relax…no matter how much she tried to will herself to sleep…she couldn't, even with Bellamy's warm, comforting presence at her back.
She must have sighed or tensed or something, because Bellamy raised his head a little, looking over her shoulder. "What's wrong, Clarke?"
She flopped onto her back, looking up at him. "I'm so goddamn exhausted, but I can't fall asleep."
He was watching her worriedly again and it was beyond endearing. "Do you need some water? Food?"
She shook her head. Even the thought of food made her stomach turn even more. "No, definitely sleep first. I think it might be adrenaline let down."
"Hmm?" he asked, brushing a curl behind her ear, his hand lingering.
She tried to focus on his question, not his hand. "Too much stress…and too much caffeine…all at once. My adrenaline probably kicked in to keep me going, but now that the crisis is over, the adrenaline is gone and my body is exhausted, but my brain hasn't quite caught up."
He was still propped up on one elbow, absentmindedly running one of her curls through his fingers. "You know…" he said, voice slightly hesitant. "We did figure out a way to deal with stress."
She wasn't sure if it was her lack of sleep or the fact that he was practically leaning over her in bed, but her brain wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders at the moment.
He must have sensed her confusion, because he continued, although it was with even more hesitancy. "It…seemed to work pretty well last time," he said, and then his eyes flitted down to her lips for just a split second, almost as if he'd tried to stop them.
It was only a split second, but that was all Clarke needed for everything to fall into place.
She wasn't really sure how she was supposed to say, 'Yes, please, dear God, kiss me. You know, platonically and for science's sake,' so she just nodded.
He looked at her for a moment, a bit of anxiety obvious on his face, but then he leaned forward, pressing his lips gently to her cheek.
He lingered there for a moment, probably unsure if he should continue or not…until she wrapped her arms around his neck.
That seemed to be all the encouragement he needed to press multiple kisses to her cheek, getting closer to her lips each time.
She finally ended up turning her head, her mouth meeting his, and she was pretty sure they both sighed into it.
She wasn't sure how much of it was her exhaustion, but it almost felt like a damn spiritual experience, being able to kiss him again, and she felt her mind immediately go blank, consumed by the feel and the smell and the taste of him, and the utter contentment that came from being with him like this again.
It was soft, gentle, their lips sliding together smoothly as they drank each other in.
Her hands slid down to his shoulders, reveling in the strength of his upper arms as she met him kiss for kiss, and one of his hands was cupping her cheek, thumb caressing it tenderly as he gave her kisses that were so sweet, she kind of wanted to cry.
In all honestly, she tried to force herself to stay awake as long as possible so she could enjoy it, but the exhaustion finally started overtaking her, and he must have realized it whenever she became less responsive.
He pulled away. "Go to sleep, Princess."
She huffed, and he chuckled and kissed her jaw.
"Will you stay?" she asked, forcing her eyes open a few centimeters.
He smiled, nodding and leaning forward to press one…two quick kisses to her lips. "I'll be right here," he promised.
She nodded, already turning toward him.
She burrowed her body into his, this time chest to chest, and this time, sleep claimed her in mere seconds.