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Chapter 6
Three days later Clarke still hadn't heard a word from her son. She knew he'd had nightmares every night the last few days, but she hadn't been able to comfort him. She'd only stood outside his room and cried as she listened to him sob.
Now sitting in the bleachers with AJ, Raven, Wick, and the Greens, she couldn't help but worry. Lincoln hadn't looked good at all when she'd driven him to the field earlier in the day. He'd been drawn and pale, dark circles hovering beneath his brown eyes.
She stood to clap as the team made their way out onto the field, lining up to do their stretches and pre-game warm up. She watched her son, number 24, as he went about the ritual. Then she spotted Coach Blake pacing on the sidelines and anger burned to life in the pit of her stomach.
Clarke glared at the man, knowing he couldn't see her, but doing it anyway. Raven looked at her oddly, but didn't say a word. Thankfully, AJ was engrossed in a conversation with Wick about bleacher structures and was completely oblivious to his mother's wrathful countenance.
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Lincoln looked up to find his mom in the bleachers with the rest of his family, and even though things had been tense between them he was still happy to see her there.
He turned his attention back to the huddle, trying to ignore the weariness that crept into his very bones at the thought of playing a whole game. He listened carefully as Coach explained the plays and the strategy he wanted to use.
"Alright, Griffin, get out there and show them what you're made of," Bellamy said as he sent his team into proverbial battle.
He watched from the sidelines, pacing and yelling out instructions. His team was doing well, and all of the players really responded to their young quarterback.
Lincoln scored five touchdowns during the first half, his speed and agility unmatched on the other team. However, he could feel himself flagging. He was getting tired, and he was dizzy with nausea.
While he was sitting in the locker room, listening to the inspirational speech the coach was giving, he was just trying to stay upright. He was afraid to drink anything, worrying that it would just come right back up.
If his coach noticed, he didn't mention it, sending him right back out onto the field after half time. After about four plays, the Mountain Men scored another touchdown, and the offense got to take their place on the bench.
Unfortunately for Lincoln, the rest wasn't long enough. Mount Weather High had a hurry up offense, and soon he was back out on the field again. His shoulder ached, and he was amazed when the ball flew to his intended target.
The last two quarters dragged on until there were seconds left in the game. The Grover Grounders were up by one field goal, but the Mountain Men were just a breath from the end zone.
Lincoln gave the order, catching the snap and throwing it to a waiting wide receiver stationed beneath the goal posts. The crowd went wild, however the Grounders weren't thrilled with their loss.
While everyone was celebrating, one of the huge Grounder defensive tackles barreled into the young quarterback, knocking him to the ground. Lincoln felt his head hit the hard turf, his helmet flying from his hand.
Bellamy watched as it happened seemingly in slow motion. He waited for the boy to get up, but his star player simply lay unmoving on the scuffed grass. Before he could do anything to stop it, the field erupted in chaos.
Mountain Men clashed with Grounders, throwing punches left and right. Both coaches struggled to get their teams under control, pulling them off of each other and yelling at the top or their lungs.
"Hold it," Bellamy yelled, "Fight's over! Get your butts to the locker room!"
The coach then turned to find his two assistants kneeling over the teenager, their faces grim.
"Is he conscious," Bellamy asked as he came on the scene.
"No," Miller said quietly.
"Well let's get him to the locker room," Bellamy said as he called for the stretcher.
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Clarke watched from the stands in horror as her son was carried from the field. AJ clung to her hand, silent tears streaming down his cheeks. Her gaze flew to Raven, begging her to take care of her youngest so she could be with Lincoln.
"We'll take care of him, you go," Raven said as Wick took AJ into his arms.
Clarke ran down the bleachers, across the field, and into the locker room. She stopped when she saw Lincoln lying still and pale on the tall cot in the corner. She rushed forward, her eyes roving over his form as she searched for injuries.
"Lincoln, baby, wake up," Clarke said tearfully.
Her son groaned, but his eyes remained closed.
"Come on sweetheart, open those gorgeous brown eyes," she whispered.
She watched as her son's eyes fluttered open, staring at her hazily.
"Momma," Lincoln whispered.
"Yeah, baby, I'm here," Clarke said as she took his hand in her own.
"It hurts," the boy said weakly, struggling to sit up.
"I know, but you have to stay still," Clarke said.
Just then the paramedics arrived, rushing in and gently moving Clarke out of the way so they could get to her son. However, Lincoln quickly began to blur the past with the present and his terrified cries echoed in the silent locker room.
"Momma," he yelled.
"You need to be quiet and very still, ok," one of the paramedics said softly.
"No, I need my Mom," Lincoln said, beginning to thrash and then crying out in pain when he jostled his injured shoulder.
Clarke had tried to stand by, knowing that the paramedics needed room to work. However, at her son's distress, she quickly started to make her way to his side.
The male paramedic stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder, "Mam, I need you to stand back."
Seeing Clarke so close made Lincoln thrash even more, desperately pleading for his mother. Finally the young mother had had enough.
"Get out of my way or this is going to get ugly real fast," she growled.
"Mam, I…"
"Don't you dare 'mam' me! That is my son, and he needs me. There's not a force on this earth that can keep me from my child, so step aside before I do something I might regret later."
Bellamy watched the woman, her blue eyes glittering dangerously as the two paramedics seemed to deliberate on what she'd said. Finally they let her pass, and she quickly moved to her son's side- laying a gentle hand on his cheek.
"It's alright, baby, I'm here. Shhhh", she crooned softly.
Lincoln quieted immediately, his frightened gaze never leaving his mother's face. The two paramedics worked around her, telling her what would need to be done.
"He's dehydrated," Clarke said, "His shoulder's dislocated, it's happened twice before so I know what I'm talking about. I want a CT scan when he gets to the hospital because he was out for over a minute, understand?"
The paramedics both nodded, not wanting to cross the angry mother again. When they were ready to take him, Raven entered the locker room with a worried frown- watching as Lincoln refused to let go of Clarke's hand.
"Don't leave me, Momma," he pled.
"Raven," Clarke called, "I need you to ride with him to the hospital while I have a talk with Coach Blake."
Raven nodded, helping her best friend disentangle herself from her son's tight grip.
"It's ok, baby, Auntie Rae's going with you. You'll be fine, and I'll be with you before you know it," Clarke said before placing a kiss on her son's forehead.
Bellamy watched the whole exchanged, knowing there was more to that kid's life than he'd previously thought. He'd never seen a boy so terrified in his life, and watching Lincoln thrash and scream for his mother had nearly caused the coach physical pain.
He watched as the blonde made her way over to him, a hand moving to his cheek after her stinging slap.
"This is your fault," Clarke seethed, "You're his coach, you're supposed to keep him safe!"
"I know, I'm…"
"I'm not finished! He was in no condition to play, but you just keep pushing him! You can only push someone so far before they break. My son has had two male influences in his life, and they've never put the pressure on him that you have. He struggles and craves your approval, Bellamy, but you just keep pushing. I'm done watching my son suffer. This is over, he won't be playing the rest of the season," Clarke said before marching from the locker room.
Bellamy watched her go, knowing that he'd been wrong. He'd been so tangled up in trying to help Lincoln realize his potential that he hadn't realized he was slowly pushing the boy over a cliff.
He rubbed a hand through his hair and down his face, weary and feeling like the lowest of the low. He would have to find a way to make this up to them, and he prayed that Clarke Griffin and her son would give him a second chance.
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Clarke drove like a maniac to the hospital, stopping at the front desk to ask after her son. She was told that he was put in a room, number 337, and she made a break for the elevator.
When she made it to the third floor, she quickly found her son's room and rushed inside. She found him sitting up in bed, his eyes drooping and an IV already in place on the back of his hand.
She spotted AJ in Wick's lap, smiling softly at the little boy before taking a seat beside Lincoln.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I should have seen what was happening, I should have stopped it," Clarke said, tears trickling down her cheeks.
"It's ok Mom," Lincoln replied, "I should have told you instead of trying to handle it myself."
Clarke took his hand in her own, stroking her thumb over his knuckles.
"You're not playing for that man anymore," she said, her voice shaking with ill suppressed anger.
"Mom," Lincoln said about to argue.
"We'll discuss this when you're feeling better," Raven said quietly.
Clarke's shoulders sagged as she brought her son's hand to her lips, placing a tender kiss on the back.
"You were great out there tonight," she said with a smile.
"I was, wasn't I," Lincoln grinned tiredly.
"We'll take the munchkin home and let you two get some rest," Wick said as he set AJ down in the floor and stood behind him.
The little boy ran to his mother, his worried gaze falling on his big brother.
"Are you going to be ok Bubba?"
Lincoln ruffled his brother's hair with a smile, "Yeah, I'm gonna be fine."
Clarke hugged AJ close, kissing his cheek as she returned him to Wick and Raven.
"I'll see you tomorrow, ok," she said with a smile.
"Ok, bye Mom, bye Linc," AJ said as he followed his aunt and uncle from the room.
Clarke sank down in one of the vacant chairs after pulling it closer to the bed. When her son was finally allowed to sleep, she watched him, allowing the sound of his steady breathing to calm her frazzled nerves.
"I love you, my precious boy," she said quietly before closing her own eyes to sleep.
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The next morning Lincoln woke to find his mother slouched in the chair beside his bed. He knew she would have a crick in her neck when she woke, her head positioned at an awkward angle.
"Mom," he whispered, watching as she began to stir.
"Hey, how are you feeling," Clarke said as she stretched.
"I've got a headache, but I feel better," Lincoln replied.
"Good, are you hungry? I could…"
"Mom," Lincoln said cutting her off, "About what I said the other day…"
"I know you didn't mean it, Lincoln. You were angry and rightfully so," Clarke said with a smile.
"I was wrong, Mom. I never should have said that to you. No matter who brought me into this world, you're my mother and I'll always be thankful that you took me in," he said quietly.
Clarke placed a gentle hand on his cheek, "You were exactly what I needed then, you know it? You helped me through a rough patch and I never would have made it without you. So that woman did us both a favor."
Lincoln smiled, nodding as he watched his mother yawn.
"Why don't you go get a cup of coffee and some breakfast, I'm starved," Lincoln said dramatically.
"Will you be alright without me for a while," Clarke asked, her blue eyes serious.
"Yeah, I'll be fine," her son assured her.
Clarke dropped a kiss on his forehead, grabbed her purse, and was out the door.
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Bellamy walked slowly to room 337, knowing that this wasn't going to be easy. He knocked on the door, opening it a bit to see Lincoln sitting up in bed watching TV.
"Hey Coach," the boy said as he turned off the television.
"Is your mom here," Bellamy asked hesitantly.
"No, she went for a McDonald's run," Lincoln replied with a smirk.
"Do you mind," Bellamy asked as he motioned to the nearest chair.
"No, go right ahead."
Bellamy sat, about to explain himself when the teenager spoke.
"I think you got the wrong impression, Coach."
"I think you're right," Bellamy said softly, "I grew up with a single mom too, so I know what it's like to struggle without your dad. I just didn't want you to make the same mistakes I did, and waste your talent."
"Clarke's not my biological mother," Lincoln said quietly.
"Really," Bellamy asked in astonishment, "I figured she must have had you at sixteen and…"
"No, I was left on her doorstep when she was nineteen," the teen said quietly, his mind wandering to that day all those years ago.
Lincoln walked along the icy sidewalk, his feet long numbed by the cold. His feet were bare, and he had no coat. People stared at him as he passed, but no one said a word. He was embarrassed, but knew that he could do nothing about it.
Then a soft voice stopped him, and he stared up into the face of an angel. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, her lips curved in a delicate smile.
"Hello there," the woman said as she knelt before him, "I'm Clarke, what's your name?"
"Lincoln," the boy answered shyly.
"Well, Lincoln, I'm hungry. What say we duck in the diner and get something to eat," Clarke said, her hand reaching for his.
Lincoln placed his small hand into her larger one, the warmth from her fingers causing his own to tingle. He followed her into the small diner, sitting down in the booth across from her and reveling in the warmth around him.
The waitress came to their booth with a smile and notepad, looking expectantly at the two patrons.
"Can I get a hot chocolate and a coffee to start off," Clarke asked.
"Sure thing, hun, I'll get those right out for ya," the waitress replied.
Lincoln watched Clarke as she perused the menu, glancing up occasionally to smile at him. He'd never known a person who smiled so much, so she had to be the nicest person ever.
"What sounds good, Lincoln," Clarke asked.
The little boy shrugged, his eyes glued to the unopened menu before him.
"Do you like waffles," she asked, smiling when his little eyes grew round, "Waffles it is then."
When the waitress came back Clarke ordered waffles for both of them along with two glasses of chocolate milk. Lincoln sipped on his hot cocoa, allowing the hot liquid to warm him from the inside out.
After the food arrived, the blonde watched as the little boy before her practically inhaled his food. She could tell that he hadn't eaten in a while, his little t-shirt showing off his bony body.
As soon as they'd finished, Clarke paid for their meal and then took Lincoln back outside. She wrapped him in her coat, and then lifted him into her arms. He didn't weigh much, although he was tall for a kid his age- his legs dangling down her sides.
She carried him into the small clothing store a few shops down, picking through the racks with the little boy clinging to her pants leg. He never strayed far from her, and his dark little eyes wandered all over the store while his hand clutched her jeans.
Clarke picked out a red coat, some mittens, a toboggan, a pair of tennis shoes, a few sweaters, three pairs of jeans, and a package of thick white socks. She paid for the purchase, and then helped him into the socks and shoes before zipping up his coat and pulling the woolen toboggan down over his ears.
They made their way back out into the cold, Clarke holding one of the little boy's mitten covered hands as he gave her directions to his house. As they approached the run down bungalow, the blonde sighed.
She hated to leave the little boy there, but when a woman several years older than her came to the door Clarke relinquished her hold on the little boy after helping him up the icy steps.
"Hi, I'm Clarke Griffin," she said extending her hand to the scowling woman, "You must be Lincoln's mom."
"What's it to ya," the woman asked, shoving Lincoln inside the house before taking the sack rather rudely from the blonde's grasp.
"If he ever needs anything, here's my number. I'd be more than happy to help," Clarke said, handing the woman a slip of paper.
Lincoln's mother grunted and then slammed the door in her face. Clarke stood there for a moment, and then made her way home. She worried about the little boy constantly for the next three days.
Then one morning at about two a.m. there was a knock on her door. Clarke and Raven rushed down the stairs, the latter wielding a worn wooden baseball bat. The blonde opened the door, her heart melting at the sight of the crying little boy on their front porch.
Clarke quickly brought him inside, taking the envelope from his hands and shoving it at Raven. Her best friend began to open the missive as she got the little boy into the living room.
His little body shook with each shuddering sob and he clung to Clarke for dear life. His face was filthy, and all he had with him were the clothes on his back and the ones she'd bought him that were still in the plastic sack.
"What happened, sweetheart? Where's your mom," Clarke asked.
"She left me. She said that you would take care of me now," Lincoln said through his choking sobs.
Clarke held him tightly, rocking back and forth.
"It's ok, I'm going to take care of you."
"Uh, Clarke," Raven said, speaking for the first time since they'd found their little houseguest.
"Yeah, Rae, what is it?"
"Angela Danvers just gave you her son," the dark haired woman said with wide eyes.
"What," Clarke asked in confusion.
"The kid's mom signed over all of her parental rights to you," Raven said.
Clarke looked at her friend, and then at the little boy in her arms.
"I guess I'll have to see a lawyer tomorrow," she said quietly, "But right now, let's get you a bath and up to bed."
Clarke ran a tub of warm water, setting out one of her shirts and a pair of underwear from Lincoln's sack. She hung a washcloth off of the facet and pulled a towel off the rack.
She left him alone, going back to where Raven sat on her bed.
"What are you going to do," Raven asked her friend as they sat watching AJ sleep.
"I'm going to keep him," Clarke answered.
Raven smiled, she'd only known Clarke for a few months but somehow she'd known that the other girl would say that.
"Ok, then that's settled. We'll see the lawyer tomorrow."
"That was that", Lincoln said, finishing his tale, "Mom adopted me, and she's always been the only mother I've ever known. Angela may have given birth to me, but she never wanted me. She was an alcoholic twenty-seven year old who dumped her kid on a nineteen year old single mother."
Bellamy stared at the young man before him, realizing that this kid was nothing like him.
"You're mom sounds like an amazing woman," Bellamy said softly.
"She is," Lincoln said with a smirk, "But don't worry Coach, she won't be mad forever. She's usually all fire and brimstone at first, but she'll simmer down and forgive you when she's ready."
Bellamy chuckled, "I'm glad to hear it son, I thought that woman was going to skin me alive."
"She's always been overprotective. I guess because I had such a rough start. It was hard the first few years. I was terrified she was going to leave me, so terrified that I couldn't sleep if I couldn't hold her hand and I cried every day when she dropped me off at school," Lincoln said admitted.
Bellamy nodded, "I'm so sorry, Lincoln, I never should have pushed you so hard."
"I know you were only trying to do what you thought was best, so I forgive you Coach. Mom… It'll take her some time, but she'll come around," Lincoln said with a smile.
"Are you still going to play for me," Bellamy asked hopefully.
"My mom didn't raise me to be a quitter, and football's all I've ever known, so you've still got yourself a quarterback if you'll have me."
Bellamy breathed out a sigh of relief, but it turned out to be short lived when the door opened and a certain blonde firecracker walked into the room.
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