A/N: Once again the procrastination that will probably kill me this week has led to a new chapter for y'all. I hope it doesn't disappoint!

In early August Wells told her he wanted to come visit for a week and Clarke was over the moon. It was decided that in the last week of August Wells would fly to Chicago. After miraculously managing to get the week off work, Clarke bounded down the stairs of the small house to inform the Blakes. With Octavia nowhere to be seen, it was Bellamy who was first informed of the impending visit. Clarke nearly crashed into him as she rounded the corner of the TV room.

"Whoa, careful there, Princess." He grabbed her shoulders to steady her as she faltered. "Where are you heading in such a rush?"

"Wells is coming!"

Bellamy's face scrunched up. "What?"

"My friend Wells," Clarke continued with a huge grin on her face. "I grew up with him and I haven't seen him since I left DC in February. He is coming up on the 25th and staying for a week."

Bellamy laughed at her pure, uninhibited excitement. Finally releasing his hold on her shoulders he stepped back and pointed towards the back door. "O is outback tending her flowers, I'm sure she will be thrilled for you."

Clarke flashed him one last wide grin before bounding outside to tell Octavia.

Wells arrived on a Saturday and Finn drove Clarke to the airport to pick him up in the late afternoon.

"So tell me again how you know this guy?"

"We have known each other for as long as I can remember. We grew up together because our parents were so close. My mom and his knew each other as kids because they are both from old, political, DC families."

Finn nodded. "And he does what again?"

"He is a lawyer for a private firm in Washington."

"Alright and he majored in Poly-Sci at the University of Virginia, right?"

"Finn, calm down. Its okay if you don't know everything about him, he will love you."

He shot her a nervous smile, "Hey, can you blame me for being a little on edge? I mean you said this guy is basically your brother so I'm basically meeting your family for the first time."

"Believe me, meeting Wells will be so much better than meeting my family."

"So I will meet them someday then?"

Clarke looked over at him. Finn was determinedly looking ahead. He had been pushing her to introduce him to her family for days now, ever since she mentioned the possibility of going back to DC in September to visit Wells and her Mom. She had already met his family weeks ago when they made the hour long drive to visit him in the city.

"Finn, you will. Someday. It's just a lot more complicated than you think."

"Then help me to understand, Clarke. Tell me why it is so complicated."

Clarke sighed exasperatedly. "Just drop it, Finn. I said no, okay?"

"Its just that-"

"We have only been together for four months, Finn!"

He looked over at her, hurt evident in his eyes. Clarke wanted to feel guilty, but she was too frustrated with how Finn seemed so much more attached to Clarke than she was to him. That wasn't to say she didn't like him, because she did, very much. But Clarke wasn't ready to open up about her whole past to Finn. She had been trying so hard to be patient with him on the subject and to convey how she needed time, but Finn didn't seem to ever get the message.

"It doesn't matter how long we have been together, all that matters is how we feel about each other."

She didn't respond for a long moment. "Finn, I care about you. I really do. But I'm not ready to make that step yet and I would really appreciate it if you would let it go. One day, yes, I will take you to DC. But right now I am not ready for that; I don't even know if I am going to go yet."

He was silent.

"Look, I don't want us to fight right now, okay? I want today to just be a good day. I want to pick up Wells, go get dinner with him, and have my two favorite men get to know each other."

Finn smiled. "Okay, Princess. Whatever you say."

When Wells finally appeared in baggage claim, Clarke nearly shrieked with joy before running over and pulling him into a tight embrace. She could feel him laughing against her.

"Its been far too long, Clarke."

"I can't believe you are here!"

"I still can't believe you moved here."

They hugged each other again and then went to grab his bags.

"Finn is out front in the car."

"This is the famous Dr. Finn Collins?"

"Yes, the very same."

"So that's still going well?"

"Yeah, it's going great. I've never been happier. Except maybe when we went to Italy our junior year." Wells didn't need to know she was concerned about how fast Finn's feelings seemed to be developing in comparison to her own.

"Good, I'm glad. You deserve someone who makes you that happy."

They quickly found Finn circling arrivals and loaded Well's bags into the car. Clarke introduced the two as soon as they got back on the road. Soon the trio fell into a pleasant conversation about Wells' trip from the capital and Clarke felt a sense of victory at how well her boyfriend and her best friend were getting along.

"So what is the plan for today, Princess?"

"After we drop off Wells' stuff at the house I was thinking we could go into the city for an early dinner and then maybe walk around downtown."

"Are your roommates coming?" Finn asked.

"Please tell me they are, Clarke. I'm dying to meet the infamous Bellamy Blake."

Finn chuckled and Clarke felt a pang of guilt run through her. The last time she had talked to Wells about Bellamy was back when they were constantly at each other's throats. She hadn't told him, or anyone, about Bellamy's breakdown in front of her.

"Um, I think they're busy tonight."

"Just wait until you meet him, man," Finn said, looking at Wells in the rearview mirror. "He is a class A asshole."

"Finn-" Clarke warned but Wells interrupted her.

"Oh trust me, I've heard all about it."

"He isn't that bad, okay."

Finn just gave her a funny look. Wells asked her what she was talking about. "You complained to me about him every day for more than two months, Clarke! You said he treated you like shit."

"Well I wasn't completely innocent in it either."

"Clarke." Wells sounded like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Look, I think he was just adjusting to me being there and to-" She abruptly stopped speaking when a thought crossed her mind. It was so obvious that Clarke was a little embarrassed she hadn't realized it before. All that anger and resentment had evaporated after Bellamy let himself open up, after he was given some semblance of forgiveness. Yes he was an asshole and yes he could be the most stubborn, arrogant, pigheaded person she had ever known, but he anger those first few months hadn't just been about her. It was everything. He couldn't express himself to anyone for fear of being rejected so instead he took it out on her. Octavia had said it herself; he wasn't himself after he came back. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Clarke couldn't decide if she felt angrier that he had chosen her to take his pent up resentment out on or if she felt guiltier that she hadn't realized it sooner and stopped telling anyone who would listen that Bellamy Blake was a shithead. But then again he was a shithead and just because he had no other way to release his anger didn't mean that he could just-

Clarke was ripped from her thoughts by Finn's voice. "Princess, Clarke! Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You kind of spaced out there, Clarke." There was worry in Wells' voice.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Sorry."

"We are almost there so you might want to text Octavia and tell her to tether the dog."

"What? We don't have a-" Her confusion turned into annoyance when she realized Finn was talking about Bellamy. She rolled her eyes at him, "Real mature."

Clarke thanked all her lucky stars that Bellamy wasn't home when they dropped off Wells' bags. Octavia was thrilled to meet the man she had heard so much about and all but insisted on coming with them to dinner.

"I'll just text Bell to let him know. He is doing something for training in the city, would you mind if I invited him?"

Ignoring the look that Finn and Wells exchanged, Clarke nodded at Octavia. "Of course, if he is done in time."

"Oh he should be. Thanks."

They settled on a little Italian place in the city that Octavia had been to with Lincoln before. Over their bread and olive oil the small group asked Wells all about his life in Washington. Bellamy arrived a little over fifteen minutes after them and offered a quick hello to Wells. He was in his cadet's uniform and Clarke couldn't stop her eyes from lingering on his form every now and then.

"So tell me Wells," Octavia said with a mischievous smile as the food arrived, "What was Clarke like growing up?"

"Please Wells, save this for another time when I have more alcohol to distract me," Clarke joked earning her a smirk from her old friend.

"No chance, Griffin. I will have you know, Miss Blake, that Clarke here was a goody-two-shoes up until freshman year of high school."

Clarke groaned.

"Oh please, do explain." Octavia said, laughing, and explain he did. He told them all about the little girl who refused to break even the smallest rule. How she had cried the day she accidently carried a book out of a store without paying and demanded Wells take her to jail. How when she was 10 she told off boys five years older than her for riding their bikes without helmets. How in 8th grade when a girl she was competing against in soccer pulled an illegal move, Clarke had the whole game paused for thirty minutes while she proved her point.

Bellamy caught her eye in the middle of a story about 12 year-old Clarke being horrified after finding out she hadn't sourced a book report correctly. He didn't have to say anything, she could see the amusement in his eyes and the look that told her he wasn't surprised at all. She stuck out her tongue at him, earing a lopsided smirk and a small shake of his head.

"So enough about pre-high school Clarke," Finn laughed. "I want to hear about what made her change her ways."

"Wells-" He ignored her warning.

"I don't know what happened over the summer between 8th and 9th grade, but when we started at Mt. Weather Academy, Clarke was brand new. It all began when she decided that she didn't like the new uniforms. Everyday she would try to change it just a little bit so that it was against regulation. It drove her mom crazy. After that she was a goner. Sweet little innocent Clarke turned into a rebel."

"No I did not. Just because I didn't follow every rule doesn't mean I was some nonconformist."

"I guess your right, that didn't start until college. I'll never forget the first series of drunk texts I received from this girl." The table laughed as Wells shared anecdotes from Clarke's attempts at teenage rebellion. After dinner they decided to walk to a little cupcake place that Octavia claimed was heaven on earth. Clarke fell into stride with Bellamy as Finn, Wells, and Octavia began animatedly talking about Clarke's laughable attempt to run away at age 16.

"I knew I was right about you." His deep voice rumbled.

"How so?"

"From the moment I met you I knew you were a goody-two-shoes growing up."

"Shut up."

"You know, you really shouldn't have let him tell me about that horrible shoplifting incident in the bookstore. I am almost a certified officer of the Chicago Police Department. I'll have to keep tabs on you."

"Like Miller keeps tabs on Murphy?"

He laughed, drawing the attention of Octavia. "What are you two gigging about?"

The next few days passed in a blur. Clarke showed Wells the hospital, her favorite coffee places and bars, and took him to countless museums.

When they were in the Art Institute gazing up at a beautiful Impressionist piece, Wells turned to her.

"Do you still paint?"

"Wells," she warned. He knew the answer to the question already.

"I still don't get why you stopped, Clarke. He would not have wanted you to stop. Your dad loved your art."

"Exactly. All I can think about when I sketch or paint is him and it's just… its just too hard Wells."

"It's been two years, Clarke. I know it's hard to hear but you have to move on at some point."

"It isn't that easy-"

"I know, Clarke." And he did. Wells' mom had died when he was 13 of breast cancer. "I know its not easy but your dad wouldn't want you to live as a shell of yourself. He was so proud of the pieces you created."

"I'm just not ready yet, okay?"

"Okay. But promise me you will paint again someday."

"Wells-"

"Promise?"

She sighed. "Fine. I promise."

"Can I ask you something else?" She knew where this was going.

"If its about her then-"

"Clarke she asks about you all the time. You have only called her once since moving here. What happened to him… I know you blame her but-"

"I really just want to enjoy our time together, Wells. I don't want to talk about my mom."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Fine. But you can't keep avoiding your past. You have to face it, Clarke. You will be much happier if you do."

She huffed in annoyance and disbelief.

"You really haven't changed at all since high school," he laughed.

"Shut up."

That night Finn, Jasper, Monty, and Miller came over for dinner. They made tacos and watched Jeopardy and Clarke couldn't help but feel more at home than she ever had. All her favorite people were gathered in one place and she truly felt like she belonged.

When Clarke woke up it was still dark and the clock on her beside table read 3:03 am. For a few minutes she lay still in the silence trying to will herself back to sleep, but it was no use. After sliding off of Finn's warm body and throwing on pajama shorts and an old, oversized t-shirt she tiptoed out of the room and down the stairs.

Wells was sound asleep on the pull out couch. Clarke smiled at him fondly as she made her way into the kitchen. When she flicked the light on she was surprised to find Bellamy (very shirtless and very tired looking) sitting at the table, a half finished beer in front of him.

"What are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Princess."

"I couldn't sleep," she said while opening the refrigerator. "I want something to eat."

Huffing with annoyance when nothing in the fridge tempted her, Clarke closed the door and sat down across from Bellamy. It was only then that she noticed the sadness in his dark eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" Her voice was soft and she placed a reassuring hand over his on the table. They hadn't talked about what happened at the beach that night, but every now and then she would catch him like this and just know what he was thinking about.

Bellamy forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, I was just… thinking." Before she could probe further, he stood up and went to the fridge. Clarke reached over and took a long swig of his beer, trying and failing to ignore the way his sweatpants hung just right on his bare hips.

"How do you feel about pancakes?"

"What?"

He turned to her, mildly annoyed, and held up a half finished carton of blueberries. "I asked how you feel about pancakes. Blueberry ones to be exact. I know you love blueberry waffles but we don't have a waffle maker so-"

"I love blueberry pancakes, but you don't have to make me anything, Bellamy."

He shook his head and smiled, "Its no problem, Princess. I use to make them for O all the time when she couldn't sleep. But she preferred chocolate chips to blueberries."

Clarke suddenly pictured a much younger Octavia sitting at the table while her big brother calmed her fears and made her a sweet snack. She got up to help him gather ingredients, hissing when he set the pan on the stove just a little too hard.

"Be quiet, Wells is sleeping in the living room."

"I'm doing my best, Princess. You are the one demanding food."

"I'm not demanding anything."

"Just sit down and let me do my thing."

"Your thing?" She smirked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you want pancakes or not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then stop hovering, Princess." Clarke rolled her eyes and jumped up onto the counter. Bellamy raised his eyebrows at her choice of location but did nothing to make her move. "You are still in my way."

"You said to sit down so I sat down."

He laughed quietly. "You're impossible."

"Just shut up and make my food."

"As you command," Bellamy dramatically bowed before her and accidently dropped the cup of flour he had been holding. Clarke let out a bark of laughter before clamping her hand over her mouth.

"Who's being the noisy one now?"

She tried to kick at him but Bellamy easily caught her bare foot. Her nerves caught on fire at the contact. As he slowly stood, his hand trailed farther up her calf until it hit the backside of her knee and began inching towards her thigh. For a moment both of them stilled. Bellamy's heated gaze moved up her body and Clarke was suddenly very aware of how much skin her shorts exhibited and just how evident her lack of a bra was in the loose t-shirt.

Wells coughed in his sleep in the other room and the spell was broken. Bellamy quickly cleared his throat and dropped her leg. He went to clean the flour off the floor but she hopped down and stopped him.

"I can do that, you are making the pancakes after all."

He nodded and swallowed tightly before turning away from her. Clarke could feel a blush on her cheeks and the trail where he had run his long fingers still burned on her leg. She tried to push the moment out of her mind as she wiped off the floor. It was because he neglected to wear a shirt, she told herself. Bellamy was undeniably physically attractive and any girl would have the same reaction. She ignored the part of her mind questioning the dark heat that had been in his eyes and endeavored to think of Finn.

"So, you and Wells, huh. How long have you known each other?" Bellamy was clearly trying desperately to fill the awkward silence that had fallen because she had already told him and Octavia the answer a million times.

"Since birth. Our parents were really close. He is the closest thing I have to a brother."

"He seems nice."

"Yeah, he is a great guy. He has been through everything with me, you know." She finished cleaning the floor and hoped back up onto the counter. Bellamy poured some batter into the pan before turning towards Clarke, leaning one hip against the counter.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Growing up, the awful dinner parties and fundraisers we had to go to with our parents. My mom is from an old political family so whenever his dad ran for office my mom would get really involved in fundraising and everything. I hated those events with a burning passion. It was always just a whole bunch of old people throwing their money around and telling me that Wells and I that we should get married."

Bellamy smirked. "Well a princess does usually end up with a prince."

Clarke rolled her eyes as he turned around to flip the pancake. "Its isn't like that. It was never like that."

"Really?"

"Yes. He was always just a friend."

"I thought you went to prom with him."

"Yeah but it wasn't a date thing. I mean, I always saw him as my brother. Dating Wells would be weird."

Bellamy turned back around and gazed curiously at her.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, if you have something to say, then say it."

He just chuckled and started on another pancake. "So tell me more about these events you had to go to."

"Ugh, they were horrible. They lasted for hours and we all had to take pictures with everyone and act so prim and proper. One time, though, Wells and I snuck out."

"What a rebel. This must have been after your grand transformation."

"Oh, shut up. We crawled out a window in the hallway and spent the day at the National Gallery."

"Princess, stop. This is too extreme for me to hear."

She rolled her eyes. "We were fifteen okay, it felt pretty rebellious. My parents were livid afterwards. I take that back. My mom was pissed out of her mind but my dad just laughed."

"Why the National Gallery?"

"I wanted to be an artist. I use to sketch and paint all the time. There was an exhibit on Botticelli and I was dying to go, so Wells took me."

"I didn't know you liked art."

Clarke smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I don't really sketch anymore."

"Why not?"

"I just… things changed and… I just don't anymore." She wasn't ready to completely open up to Bellamy about why she had run away from Washington. Clarke didn't want to burden his already heavy shoulders with her sob story about her father's death and the death of her interest in art.

Bellamy looked at her closely, as if he was trying to read her.

"I think your pancake is burning." He flipped around to save the burning batter but didn't let her off the hook.

"Why did you decide against art school?"

"My mom wanted me to be a doctor like her. That was always the plan. I would be a doctor, Wells would be a lawyer and we would get married and have 2.5 kids and hold public office. The Kennedys of our generation."

"I thought you and Wells never happened."

"Just because my mom wanted it doesn't mean I did. In fact, I think that her trying to push me into a relationship with him is part of why I never thought of him like that."

"Yet you became a doctor and stopped painting."

"Yeah, well…" she shrugged. "I'm not as rebellious as I wish I were."

Bellamy smiled again and a comfortable silence fell over them. Clarke sat on the counter lightly tapping her heels against the wooden cupboards. She watched Bellamy as he flipped pancakes, allowing her eyes to wander across his back. In the dim light of the kitchen she could see a scattering of scars across his skin. There was one particularly nasty looking jagged line of scar tissue across his left hip that drew her attention. Clarke looked away quickly when he turned suddenly after turning off the stove. He grabbed a plate piled high with warm blueberry pancakes and handed it to her.

"Your Grace."

She nodded her head regally and he smirked.

"You want syrup? Butter?"

"Do we have any peanut butter left?"

Bellamy scrunched up his nose. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, its delicious."

"Princess-"

"Its how I have always eaten them. My dad did it too."

He sighed dramatically before going to the pantry and grabbing the near empty jar of peanut butter.

"As you commanded."

"Thank you."

He watched her generously spread the peanut butter on her pancakes with an expression of mixed disgust and amusement.

"I never will understand you blue-blooded types."

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it." She ripped off a piece with her fork and held it out to him. Bellamy eyed the piece of pancake suspiciously before grabbing the fork from her hand. Clarke tried not to think too much about the way his fingers brushed against hers. She watched him pop the pancake into his mouth before he began making a show of acting horrified and gulping down water while Clarke arched her eyebrows and kept eating her pancakes.

"You are such a baby."

"Whatever you say, Princess."

She helped him clean up the kitchen after she finished eating. "Well, thank you. Those were perfect, Bellamy."

"Eh, it was nothing. Go get your beauty sleep, Princess."

Clarke's eyebrows creased in concern. "Are you staying up?" Her eyes flicked to the clock. It was 4:17 am.

Bellamy shrugged, suddenly looking a lot older. "I don't get much sleep anyways."

"You should try, Bellamy. Not sleeping isn't going to help anything. It will just stress you out more. Trust me, I'm a doctor."

He smiled wearily. "Its not really a choice, Clarke." They haunt him in his sleep, he had said.

"Just try. Please."

After a long moment he nodded and followed her out of the kitchen. As she passed through the living room she was glad to see Wells hadn't moved since she came down. Once they got upstairs, they stopped outside Bellamy's door.

"Thanks again for the pancakes."

"Consider it my way of saying thank you." She didn't have to ask what he meant.

"You know you can talk to me more, right? If you need to. I understand you not wanting to explain everything to Octavia right now, but its not good to just keep everything inside either."

He just nodded and she turned to leave.

"Clarke, wait."

"What?"

"Just… thanks."

She smiled. "Goodnight, Bellamy."

"Night, Princess."

When she crawled back into bed next to Finn, Clarke fell into a peaceful, comfortable sleep.

A couple days later she said goodbye to Wells. It was almost harder than when they had parted months before. As the held him tightly, Clarke couldn't shake the ominous feeling in her gut that something was different this time.

"Hey, Clarke, come on. Don't cry."

"I've just missed you a lot. You are the closest family I have right now and I just… I've missed you and I'm going to miss you so much."

He fondly wiped the tears away from her cheeks. "We will see each other soon, I know it. You can come up next month, maybe even for Thanksgiving. And you know you can always call or skype me."

She nodded and he hugged her again. "May we meet again, Clarke."

Clarke hugged him a little tighter and repeated the phrase. She watched his back until he disappeared behind security. After he finally faded from view, Clarke turned around and walked back to where Bellamy sat. Finn had been called in for an emergency consultation leaving her and Wells in need of a ride. Bellamy had volunteered the second he heard.

"You ready to go home, Princess?"

She nodded and he stood, leading the way back to the truck.

On the way home, Clarke stared out the window watching the city pass by. She was going to miss Wells. It was hard to say goodbye to the only man left in the world that she could really always count on.

Suddenly Clarke felt a warm hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you'll see him again, Princess."

"I know, it's just…"

"I know." Bellamy offered her a small smile before changing the radio to the oldies station he new she liked. It was a tiny gesture of kindness, but Clarke was immensely grateful for Bellamy as they drove back home.

After walking through the front door, Bellamy and Clarke parted. He went to the kitchen to start on dinner while Clarke flopped down next to Octavia on the couch to watch TV.

"How'd it go?"

"Fine, his plane should be on time so that's good."

"I liked him a lot. He was very nice."

"Yeah."

The brunette grabbed her hand and squeezed briefly. "I know it's hard to say goodbye, Clarke. But it isn't really goodbye."

Clarke smiled gratefully at her roommate and the two women focused their attention on the melodramatic show Octavia had been watching. They were interrupted a few minutes later when the doorbell rang. Octavia started to get up but Clarke beat her to it.

"I'll get it."

"Thanks."

Clarke just nodded and headed back through the living room to the front door. She opened it to reveal a woman who looked only a year of so older than her. The first thing Clarke noticed about her was how pretty she was, all dark hair and olive skin. The second thing Clarke noticed was how pissed the stranger looked.

"You Clarke Griffin?"

For a moment Clarke debated lying. The woman looked like she was capable of murder. "Um, yes. I am. And you are?"

"I'm Raven Reyes. We need to talk."

A/N: I found it really hard to write Wells for some reason. Anyways, I hope y'all liked it. Thanks again for your sweet comments.