Chapter Three – The Funeral

When Clarke entered the church, she noticed how many people had turned up. Extra seats had been laid out for the overflowing crowd. Her attention was drawn to the front of the room where her father and Bellamy stood signalling her to go to them. The front of the church was taken up by Thelonious, Abby and Kane, her friends and her father. She walked slowly to them, not bothering to attempt a fake smile, what was the point?

Clarke was pulled into a tight hug by her father, the smell of his cologne comforting her slightly. He pulled away and made his way to his seat, leaving her stood alone with Bellamy. He opened his mouth, as though he was about to speak, but closed it almost immediately. Clarke turned and took her seat, next to her father. She looked around and saw Abby and Kane seated next to Thelonious, any other day, she would've questioned it, but nothing made sense anymore. Bellamy took his seat next to Clarke, but never made eye contact with her.

When the service started, Clarke couldn't help but feel angry as the room was filled with the sound of Wells' 'favourite' song. Did these people even now him? As the service continued, Clarke found the answer was no, they didn't know him. Poems were read, which he had despised. Famous quotes were said, which he had detested. Hymns were sung, which he used to laugh at. The services was the complete opposite of what Wells would have wanted. However, Clarke could never say this out loud, Thelonious was the one who had organised everything, it would kill him if he found out Wells would have hated it. Instead, she sat in silence and tried to ignore every detail that was wrong.

Clarke stared at the picture of Wells next to his coffin; his bright smile took up most of the picture. She had been the one to take the photo, it was the day he had received his first pay check from his first real job, and now, it was being used as something to show who lay dead in the coffin. Clarke could feel the tears begin to roll down her cheek and she quickly wiped them away, and then placed her hands on her lap. Clarke felt her hands being covered and looked down to find Bellamy's hand placed on top of hers, she looked up at his face but he still never made eye contact.

When the service finished, Clarke felt as though she could finally breathe again. Bellamy removed his hand and stood to walk away, Clarke noticed how she already missed his warmth and tried to ignore the feeling that it created in her stomach. She stood and made her way out of the church and over to the plot that was assigned to Wells. They stood and watched as his coffin was lowered into the ground, but Clarke didn't cry, she never cried in front of Wells and she wasn't about to start now.

Everyone began to walk away as the soil was being placed back into the grave, everyone but Clarke and Thelonious. Clarke realised that she hadn't looked Thelonious in the eye since it had happened, she was too scared.

"Tell me the truth, Wells would've hated all of that, wouldn't he?" Thelonious deep voice startled her, she looked up to find him smiling weakly.

"I wasn't going to mention it," Clarke smiled. Thelonious laughed, and placed his arm around Clarke's shoulders, she leaned into him. Clarke had always seen him as her second father, just like Jake had been Wells' second father.

"I never knew him as well as you did, I just chose anything to get it over and done with. It sounds cruel when you say it but it's true," Thelonious stared at the grave, his words hit Clarke like a ton of bricks. She should've been the one to help him organise the funeral, but instead, she had refused to leave her house.

"I'm sorry, I should've helped you with all of this. I'm probably the worst friend ever," Clarke joked. Thelonious kissed her forehead and began walking away. Why was everyone treating her as though she'll break any second, yet the man who has lost both his wife and his son is being treated normally, nothing makes sense anymore.

"Thelonious?" Clarke shouted, he turned to face her.

"How do you do it? Cope." Clarke asked. Thelonious smiled, and placed his hands in his pockets.

"Everyone is different, you just need to find your own way of coping," He replied. Once again, he turned and walked away. Clarke stood still for a few minutes, took a deep breath and began to walk to the front of the church. She could see Bellamy, Miller, Murphy and Octavia's boyfriend Lincoln, talking to her Dad, whilst Octavia, Raven and Wick, Harper (Miller's girlfriend), Jasper and Maya, Emori (Murphy's girlfriend) and Monty, stood huddled together. Clarke made her way towards the group when she heard the sound of crying coming from the tree that stood alone at the front of the church. She turned to find Sasha sat on the ground, leaning against the tree. Clarke made her way over to the girl. The sound of her footsteps made Sasha look up.

"Hey Clarke, I know what you're thinking, why am I crying? Wells wouldn't want us to cry, he'd want us to celebrate his life. Have you got a tissue?" Sasha laughed and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Clarke stared at Sasha's left hand, where a large sparkling diamond ring sat comfortably.

"You need to leave," Clarke's tone emotionless. Sasha began to rise from the ground to meet Clarke's eyes.

"What?" Sasha's face filled with confusion.

"You heard me, you need to leave." Clarke pushed Sasha's shoulder slightly. The crowd outside the church began to turn towards the girls. Bellamy strode over to the pair in an attempt to calm down Clarke.

"Clarke, not here," Bellamy whispered. He was ignored.

"You have no right to be here, if I wasn't for you, none of us would be here. Get out of my sight, you disgust me," Clarke spat. Bellamy's wrist wrapped around her arm and he pulled her away from Sasha.

"I have no right to be here? Wells and I were engaged, I have every right to be here," Sasha screamed. Clarke managed to pull away from Bellamy's grasp and walked back towards Sasha. She lifted her hand in the air, but before it could make contact with Sasha's face, it was caught, by her mother.

"Marcus, please take Sasha inside whilst I talk to Clarke. Everyone else, move!" Abby yelled. The crowd turned and left, everyone except Bellamy.

"I said everyone," Abby continued, he hand still holding Clarke's arm.

"With all due respect Abby, I'm not going anywhere," Bellamy smirked.

"I suggest you leave Mr. Blake," Abby hissed.

"And I suggest you let go of your daughter's arm," Bellamy's eyes drifted to Clarke's arm and watched as Abby let go. He tensed once he saw the red marks she had left. Abby turned her attention to Clarke.

"I understand that this may be difficult for you, but starting a fight with the fiancé of your dead best friend is not the way to cope," Abby's eyes were locked with Clarke's, but Clarke didn't falter.

"You of all people should know that people grieve in different ways. I lost my best friend and started a fight with his fiancé at his funeral, you lost your first patient and screwed a random man you met at a bar, were not that different really," Clarke sputtered. She heard Bellamy scoff behind her and knew that his signature smirk would be spread across his face.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that Clarke, I am your mother, not one of your friends. If you ever expect us to get along, you need to let go of the past," Clarke was shocked; was her mother really attempting to repair their relationship at Wells' funeral?

"We will never get along, and I'm perfectly fine with that," She turned to look at Bellamy.

"Will you take me home please?" Clarke smiled weakly. He nodded and they both walked away leaving behind a stunned Abby. As they reached Bellamy's car, Clarke could feel the tears forming in her eyes. She opened the door and climbed in, and once again refused to cry. When Bellamy entered the car, he stared at Clarke.

"If you're going to keep staring at me, I'm walking home," Clarke joked. Bellamy laughed and turned to face the road.

"Brave, Princess." He muttered.

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