Title: Hot Mess
Rating: R
Chapter: 8

Fandom: Degrassi: The Next Generation
Summary: Clare uses her womanly whiles to protect Eli. Eclare. Flare. Misfits!
Comments: "Hot Mess" by Cobra Starship.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the idea.

Clare laid back in Eli's bed, her bed, their bed. The same bed she had been sleeping in for two weeks. She closed her eyes contently, pulling the covers over herself. She looked over at Eli as he pulled off his shirt to get ready for bed. She smiled a bit, but it quickly faded as her stomach growled painfully.

Clare whimpered softly, rubbing her aching stomach. She scruntched her face up in disgust as something rose through her throat. She rolled over to Eli's side of the bed, leaning over the edge to throw up in the trash can.

Eli turned around at the sound. "Clare?"

Clare held her finger up to signal one minute as she emptied the contents from her stomach into the trash.

Eli rushed to her side, kneeling in front of her and gently pushed her hair out of her face with a sigh. He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead to check the warmth of her face. He pursed his lips together. "You don't feel warm."

Clare wiped her mouth with her hand, closing her eyes. "Gross," she shuttered as the taste lingered behind in her mouth, rolling onto her back. She touched her flushed face, mumbling, "I feel hot…"

Eli nodded with a small smile, "Yeah, Babe. You just emptied your guts into a trash can." He grabbed the can. "I'm gonna empty this…"

Clare nodded, not even bothering to watch him leave. She turned onto her side, curling up into a ball. She knew she had been nauseous throughout the whole week and this proved her assumptions; she had the flu. Hopefully.

Eli placed his hand on her shoulder, giving her a light squeeze as he set down the trash can beside their bed while setting a glass of water on the nightstand. He gently laid her on her back, holding the thermometer in his hand out for her to take in her mouth.

Clare scrunched up her nose adorably in disgust, whining, "Water…"

"Thermometer first. Then water. I don't want it screwing up any results," Eli cut her off softly.

Clare sighed dramatically, opening her mouth. He gently laid the device under her tongue before sitting next to her on the mattress. She laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her carefully, holding the thermometer where it rested in her mouth. He pressed a chaste kiss on the top of her head, rubbing her arm gently with his fingertips. She smiled contently, letting out a soft breath, as she started to fade out of a conscious state.

The sudden sound of tedious beeping awoke Clare, jumping out of her boyfriend's grasp. She took a deep breath to calm down as he grabbed the thermometer out of her mouth.

Eli looked at the digital numbers and sighed, looking up at her. "It's normal," he informed, setting it on the nightstand. He picked up the glass of water and handed it to her. "Maybe you just need some rest," he shrugged, rubbing her arm gently.

Clare took a long, slow sip of water, looking at him the whole time. She stopped, swallowing the gulp, and sighed, "What's wrong then?"

"Stress? Exhaustion? The cold weather? Food poisoning?" Eli named off the possible causes with a shrug. "It could practically be anything."

Clare finished about half the glass before the taste in her mouth had subsided. She handed it back to him and he put it back in its place. She laid down on her side, looking up at him in exhaustion.

Eli looked down at her, running a hand through her hair, with a small smile. "You're fine, Beautiful," he reassured. He leaned down, kissing her forehead. "I'm gonna finish changing and then I'll come right back to bed, okay?" he informed, pulling the covers over her trembling body.

Clare nodded, closing her eyes, as she curled into the sheets comfortably. "Okay…" she trailed off in a mumble.

DTNG

"Alright, guys!" Coach Armstrong called out to his sophomore gym class, clapping his hands together as if to actually receive their attention. "I need to you pair up for trust-falls. We're doing it exactly as I demonstrated the other day. Make sure to pick someone you trust."

Clare looked around from where she sat on the edge of the bleacher steps as far away from her classmates as possible, her hand tugging her sweater down to cover her slightly revealing bosom. She stopped with a wince, letting the clothing go when her breast started to ache.

"Clare…"

Clare looked up from where she was staring at the floor, furrowing her brow. "KC?"

KC looked down at her with a smile, "Be my partner?"

Clare felt skepticism fill her, yet she hesitantly nodded in agreement, "Okay…"

He held his hand to help her to her feet and she obliged willingly.

Once on her feet, she went to take a step towards the mats when he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into him. "I hear you've been fucking Fitz and Eli." He bit his bottom lip, his voice getting huskier by the second, "You've gone from the Virgin Mary to Mary Magdalene; y'know, the whore. Where was this girl when I was dating her?" he asked, slowly backing her up into the wall that was merely a few feet away from them.

Clare grimaced at his words, looking up at him in disgust, "KC, stop." She grunted when her back hit the wall behind her.

KC's eyes filled with lust, sliding his hand up the side of her shirt. "Oh, c'mon, Clare," he whispered hotly in her ear before crushing his lips against hers, bruising her lips.

Clare whimpered against his lips, trying to push him off of her to no avail. When he slid his leg between her own, she took the opportunity to knee him in the groin. KC doubled over, groaning painfully, while covering his most sacred area.

Clare watched him, catching her breath in relief, while touching her swollen lips. She closed her eyes, her lunch slowly increasing the space in her throat. She did not even bother calling out to Coach Armstrong for his approval as she rushed past her teacher for the girls' locker room before she vomited all over the gym floor.

When she reached the nearest stall, she dropped to her knees and opened her mouth to empty her stomach into the toilet. Once the flow ended, she sat back against the metal stall and put her head between her knees, crying to herself.

"Clare…"

Clare looked up, trying to wipe her eyes to a stop, and then looked back down at the tile floor shamefully. "I don't feel good at the moment, Alli. I really don't need your criticism, okay?" she informed through tears.

Alli moved from where she stood, leaned against the side of the stall, onto her knees beside Clare. "I'm not here to criticize you," she assured, running a hand through Clare's matted hair. She sighed softly, her heart breaking at the sight of her best friend crying with the stench of vomit breathing out of her mouth.

Clare looked up at Alli, struggling not to cry. "What if I'm pregnant?" she breathed out painfully, her voice cracking with emotion.

Alli's eyes went wide at the thought of Saint Clare being pregnant – at only fifteen. She sighed, blinking herself back to reality, and looked up at Clare. "What if you aren't?" she retorted hopefully.

Clare shook her head, shaking with sobs, "But what if I am?" She covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.

Alli reached out, pulling her friend into her, and held her close. Clare shoved her face in the crook of Alli's neck, sobbing her heart out. Alli stroked her friend's red hair back gently, rocking her carefully from side to side. She sighed, closing her eyes, "There's only one way to find out, Clare."

DTNG

Clare sat up on the awkwardly-angled bed in the free clinic. She looked over at her support system, Alli and Adam. It had taken a lot to convince Adam to join them; practically an hour of confessions and explanations. But he knew when the story was over that his friend needed him.

She sighed heavily, shaking all over anxiously as they waited for the results of her pregnancy test to come back. She closed her bloodshot eyes, biting her bottom lip as if to calm herself down.

Alli reached out, placing her hand on Clare's knee to comfort her. She gave her nervous friend a small smile.

The door swung open, causing Adam and Alli to jump to their feet and up to Clare's side.

The doctor – a man with graying brown hair and piercing blue eyes – walked in, shutting the door quietly behind him. Clare swore he was her father's age, but knew it was not important. He gave her strained smile as if it would ease the young girl. "Miss Edwards, your test was positive," he informed gently.

Clare's breathing hitched as her heart stopped. She stared blankly at a spot on the wall, tears filling her eyes all over again.

Alli closed her eyes, her own filling with tears as she gave Clare's hand a strong squeeze.

Adam wrapped his arm around her from the other side, pressing her head into his neck. She closed her eyes, tears trickling down her pale cheeks.

The doctor frowned, speaking up once again, "There are other options than keeping a baby. There's adoption and abortion…"

Clare snapped up to sit on her own, shaking her head frantically, as she rambled through tears, "No. No. No! I-I-I… I could never have abortion! That would be murdering some poor, innocent child – my child! I…"

"Miss Edwards," her doctor cut her off, holding his hands up in the air defensively. "It's just an option. No one can force you into getting an abortion." He glanced at Adam for a moment, questioning, "Will the father be supporting you?"

Adam swallowed hard, biting his tongue to keep from lashing out at the accusation. He knew now was not the time and Clare deserved more attention than some idiot and their assumptions.

Clare sighed, running a hand through her hair, "I dunno. He, uh… doesn't know yet. I came here first because it's a free walk-in."

The doctor nodded understandingly, "Alright, well…" He turned around, taking a few pamphlets off a shelf, and handed them to her. "I suggest you read up on these and if you need more information, feel free to call me."

Clare nodded a bit, taking the papers shakily. She waited for the door to shut behind him before looking at Alli, who had finally stopped crying. "Alli…" Clare started to cry again.

Alli immediately enfolded her friend in her arms, rocking her gently from side to side as Adam rubbed the redhead's back. "It's okay, Sweets. We'll figure it out," Alli whispered comfortingly, her voice cracking.

DTNG

Eli sighed heavily, leaning forward as his elbows rested against the bar at The Dot. "Why are you getting off so late?" he whined.

Clare sighed, rolling her eyes, as she continued to wipe down the bar, "Eli, you know I have to pay your dad back for all the stuff he's been spoiling me with." She hit his arm lightly with the rag, telling him to move.

Eli quickly obliged, taking his body off the fresh tile, and smiled, "That's because he likes you."

Clare flushed with a smile, dropping the cloth on the bar, and looked up at him. "I love you," she said, leaning over, and kissed him innocently on the lips. Before he could respond, she pulled back and shook her head, "Go home and come back when my shift is over, okay?"

Eli sighed dramatically, but grinned, "Okay, fine."

DTNG

Clare sat at the bar, her chin sitting in her hand while her elbow rested on the top the bar. She sighed heavily, her clipped hair slowly falling onto her neck.

Peter looked over at his newest worker and planted a mug in front of her. "Carmel latte; your favorite," he stated softly.

Clare looked up at him and gave him a pathetic smile, shaking her head, "No thanks. I really shouldn't. My stomach hurts." While it was true that her stomach was aching, she did not want to give the actual reason she could no longer drink coffee. She pursed her lips together, quirking an eyebrow, and spoke up hopefully, "Can I have a peppermint tea?"

Peter smiled with a nod, "Of course. You deserve it, working a seven hour shift on a Friday night." He grabbed the coffee mug to empty it and started a cup of peppermint tea.

Clare felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, looking around to make sure that the grill was still empty before pulling it out; Peter had told her she could only use her phone when no one was there to be waited on. She sighed heavily upon reading Fitz's name scrolled across her screen, opening the message.

You busy?

Clare bit her bottom lip, contemplating what to write back. Not really. You should head over to The Dot. Pick me up. My shift is over.

She pocketed her phone, looking up as Peter set the cup of tea down in front of her. She smiled a little, mumbling, "Thanks," as she took a sip.

Peter nodded, "You're welcome." He watched her for a moment and sighed, "Clare, I've known you for too long to know you're not okay. What's wrong?"

Clare shook her head, setting the cup down, "Peter, I can't tell you right now. I'll tell you as soon as I tell who needs to find out first, okay?" Her eyes were filled with hurt, fear, and exhaustion.

Worry filled him, remember the last time Darcy had those eyes – during the grieving process of her rape. But Peter only nodded in reply, "Alright. Just… tell me you're not in any danger. Darcy will kill me."

Clare nodded assuredly, "I'm not." She took a long swig of the drink.

"Good," Peter stated before leaving her alone to put stuff away in the back.

Clare sighed, mumbling to herself as soon as he was gone, "I hope I'm not…"

DTNG

Clare walked out of the bathroom, walking over to the table where she had left the broom. She grabbed a napkin from its holder, wiping her mouth in repulsion. She tossed it into the nearest garbage can, making it perfectly – that is what happens when you once dated a basketball player. She sighed heavily, rubbing her grumbling stomach. "It's okay, Sweetie," she whispered comfortingly as if her baby could hear her. She waited for her stomach to stop making sounds before she picked the broom back up.

The bell rang as the door opened. She looked up at Fitz, biting her bottom lip thoughtfully. She nodded for him to take a seat, going behind the counter with the broom. "Want anything?" she offered, resting the object in a corner and started another cup of tea for herself.

Fitz shrugged, slouching back in the chair, "Nah, I'm okay." His eyebrows knitted together, frowning slightly at her bloodshot eyes and how her usual pale had turned to a ghost white. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Clare shrugged nonchalantly, "Yeah. Of course."

"You look like you've been crying," Fitz stated, getting up to move over to her.

The bell sounded again, making Fitz freeze in his tracks. He turned to find Eli standing in front of the door, narrowing his eyes at his enemy.

Eli swallowed hard, looking past him at Clare. "What's going on?" he demanded in confusion.

"I have something to tell both of you," Clare stated, sniffling a bit.

Fitz turned back to Clare, anger and hurt finding their way back inside of him. "Like what?"

Clare sighed, moving out from behind the counter and sat down on a stool at the bar. She rested her hands on her flat stomach. "You may want to sit down," she suggested.

Fitz sat back down as soon as the words came out of her mouth. He was still like a little lost puppy she was beating and would come back to her; it broke her heart more than pleased her now.

Eli shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'm good."

Clare took in a deep breath, closing her eyes, while rubbing her pregnant stomach gently. "I'm pregnant," she stated. Before either of her lovers could respond, she continued, "And I don't know who the father is because I've been sleeping with both of you for about the same amount of time. Not once have I used protection with either of you. I know, you both hate me now and I'm not forcing you into anything. You don't have to be help me or even be with me, for that matter. I just thought you should both know that I'm pregnant and have come to the conclusion that I'm keeping the baby." She bit her bottom lip, reaching behind her for the cup of tea, and then got up, leaving them inside alone before they had time to digest the news.

Eli and Fitz looked up at each other at the same moment.

"Well…" Fitz spoke up first, his voice cracking with nerves.

"Shut up, asshole," Eli stated in disgust before walking out of The Dot.