A/N: Here it is, hope y'all like it. It's a bit shorter than my other chapters, but this week has been pretty busy for me.

On the tenth day of September Clarke lost a patient. It wasn't her first, there had been others both in Chicago and back in DC when she had interned with her mother, but it was her youngest at age 12. A car had hit the girl on her way home from school. She didn't have any parents for Clarke to console, instead a social worker and foster parent were informed that Charlotte Higgs died at 5:27pm, September 10th, 2015 of excessive bleeding resulting from a severed artery that Clarke couldn't fix.

When she finally got home after what felt like the longest shift of her life, Clarke sat on the front steps in the dark and called Wells.

"Clarke?" She fell apart at the sound of his familiar voice and explained how hard she had tried to save Charlotte. He consoled her and told her that it wasn't her fault; that she had done all she could and ultimately that was all she could do.

"She was so young, though, Wells. She was so scared and begged me not to let her die."

"You did your best, Clarke. You can't save everyone."

"I know." Her thoughts turned to her father. She hadn't been able to save him either.

"Hey," Wells' voice was gentle. "It will all get better, Clarke. I know things suck right now between Finn and this, but it things will turn around. Just stay strong and know that you always have me to get you through the tough times, just like when we were growing up."

She sniffed. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Griffin," he chuckled. "I know you coming down at the end of the month isn't gonna work out, but maybe for Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

"Then it's settled. Tell me something good that has happened to you since we last talked on Wednesday."

Clarke wiped away left over tears and told Wells about how she and Octavia had spent Friday evening in the city window-shopping and about how they had decided to lobby Bellamy to agree to getting a cat. She told him about hanging out more with Raven and how the engineer was trying to convince her to go paint balling. As she was finishing a story about Jasper's newfound determination to win the lottery, Bellamy pulled into the drive. Clarke said good-bye to Wells and promised to call him soon while watching Bellamy hop out of the truck.

"Hey, Princess."

"Hey." He sat next to her on the old stairs and looked out at the street.

"Where were you so late?" Her shift had ended at 10:30 and Clarke assumed she had been on the phone for at least an hour with Wells.

"I had to get Murphy out of a sticky situation." He didn't offer more information and she didn't ask, despite her curiosity. "Who were you talking to?"

"Wells."

"How is he?"

"Good. I think I'm going to try and visit him for Thanksgiving."

"You aren't going up this month?"

"No, I don't want to take off that much time after using up vacation days in August when he visited." Bellamy nodded and turned to her. He must have noticed her still slightly puffy eyes and red nose because he asked her what as wrong.

"Its nothing really," Clarke didn't want to talk about death and dying. She knew that was something Bellamy was all too familiar with.

"Clarke."

She looked into his worried eyes for a moment before opening up about Charlotte. When she finished explain what had happened, she was crying again. Her cheek rested on Bellamy's shoulder and his cheek rested on her head. He was silent for a long time while his warm hand traced circles on her back.

Finally, in a low, gentle voice he said, "It isn't your fault, Clarke. You aren't the one who hit her with a car. You did everything you could to save her and I know she was grateful for that."

"Wells said that too."

"And he's right. Don't beat yourself up, Princess."

The next morning when she woke in bed still wearing her scrubs with her shoes by the bedside table, she realized she must have slipped into sleep on the steps using Bellamy's warm body as a pillow. The dark haired man must have carried her to bed instead of waking her.

After showering and dressing, Clarke made her way downstairs for a late breakfast. She didn't even blink twice when she saw Raven sitting in front of the TV with Octavia. In the weeks after Clarke's relationship with Finn had crashed and burned, Raven slowly became a common feature at the house. She too had left Finn, though she told Clarke she didn't think she could cut him off completely. It quickly became clear that the two women had a lot more in common than a mutual ex and Octavia and Raven seemed to get on exceptionally well. Even Bellamy seemed to enjoy the Navy engineer's company.

"Clarke! You're finally up!" Octavia grinned wildly.

"Yep, I had a late shift so-"

"Get your shoes on, we are going to Ikea."

"What? I need to-"

"Let the girl get breakfast, Octavia. We have all day," Raven said with a laugh.

"She can get something on-"

"Why are we going to Ikea?" Clarke asked, bewildered.

"Why not?" Octavia rolled her eyes with a smile.

"I finally got sick of living in a hotel and got a new place. I need furniture." Clarke had forgotten that Raven had lived with Finn before she left for her year overseas. She also knew the break up had been hard on Raven and that moving on would be easier with friends.

"Yeah, sure. Just let me just grab some toast and we can head out."

"No rush, Jasper and Monty aren't here yet either."

"They better get their asses here, I am bored out of my mind," Octavia whined.

Clarke laughed and moved into the kitchen to make breakfast. Bellamy was at the table looking at something on his phone. Clarke couldn't help but notice how painfully (wonderfully) obvious it was that he had just returned from a run.

"Sleep well, Princess?"

"Yep, thanks to you." Both of them blushed as Clarke realized the implication of her words too late. "I mean… you know with you carrying me upstairs and all… I didn't mean... you know."

Despite the slight blush on his cheeks, Bellamy smirked suggestively. Before he could make a comment that she just knew would be lewd, Octavia came bouncing in.

"The guys are here so grab your toast and let's go, Griffin."

"So they roped you into this Ikea thing too?"

"Oh shut up, Bell. It's going to be fun. Just because you don't like to have fun doesn't mean we don't."

"I like to have fun," Bellamy scoffed at his little sister.

"Yeah because those documentaries you watch are so fun."

"Why do you seem to think all I do is watch documentaries?"

Octavia just rolled her eyes and turned back to Clarke who was grinning, amused at the siblings' antics.

"Come on, Clarke. Let's go." Clarke folded her buttered toast into a paper towel and grabbed a water bottle.

"See you later, Old Man." She smirked at his raised eyebrows.

"I don't like the influence my sister is having on you."

Clarke was still smiling when she hopped into the back of Raven's car, squishing herself in between Monty and Jasper. The boys were pettily arguing about whether Italian or Swedish Meatballs were better.

"If you two dorks don't shut up I will kick your asses out so fast," Raven barked, glaring into the rearview mirror. The boys ceased their squabble immediately as Octavia turned on the radio.

Four hours later they had all decided that Swedish meatballs were supreme (except Jasper who was adamant that a meatball without marinara sauce was not truly a meatball) and packed up the trunk and rooftop rack with furniture boxes.

"So Raven," Clarke said as they pulled out of the parking lot, "how do you plan on putting all this crap together?"

"Oh God, that sounds like my worst nightmare," Jasper groaned.

"Ikea furniture is more complicated than half the labs I have to do for school," Monty agreed.

Raven was suspiciously silent.

"Raven?" Octavia asked, a hint of worry in her voice.

"Well, I was kind of sorta hoping you guys would help out."

A collective groan rang out in the car.

"I knew this was about more than just a trip to get the best meatballs on the planet," Monty said ignoring Jasper's snort of disapproval when he mentioned meatballs.

"Oh come on guys, it will be fun."

"Oh I'm sure." Clarke said sarcastically.

"What if I order Indian?"

The car was silent as four minds weighed their options.

"Deal," Octavia finally said, speaking for the whole group. "But only if we get Bellamy and his boys to help too."

Clarke laughed. "By that you mean only if we get Bellamy, Murphy, and Miller to do all the work for us while we eat Indian food."

"Exactly." Jasper and Monty said in unison, high fiving themselves.

Clarke spent her 26th birthday at the hospital. Though it was a Friday night, she made Raven and Octavia promise to wait to celebrate until the following day. She had a shift that ran until 9 pm and just wanted to collapse into bed when she got home.

The other women, she later discovered, had a different plan.

As soon as Clarke walked up the creaky front steps and saw the darkened windows of the house, she knew what was waiting for her inside. For someone who loved surprise parties, Octavia wasn't very good at the whole surprise bit. Still, just as Bellamy had done so many months ago, Clarke did her best to act surprised and appreciative when the lights flew on and the living room was filled with a resounding shout of "Happy Birthday!"

After Jasper threw a dinky party hat onto her head and Raven graced her scrubs with a 'Birthday Bitch' sash, Octavia made her way over to Clarke.

"I know you said you didn't want to celebrate tonight, but I couldn't resist. It just isn't the same to celebrate when it's not really your birthday."

Clarke was annoyed, but it was impossible to stay angry with Octavia. "It's fine, just next time let me at least change out of my scrubs first."

"Deal," Octavia smiled before dragging Clarke into the TV room where the party was already in full swing.

Some time later, Clarke escaped to the front porch for a moment of peace. Her day at work had been hectic and although she knew that Octavia (and Raven who she later found out was equally responsible for the party) meant well, she just wanted to relax. The night air was cool and a slight breeze whipped around her frame making Clarke shiver a bit.

She was 26 years old. One year older than she had been when she left DC. Three years older than she had been when her dad died. Eight years older than she had been when she decided to be a doctor.

"There you are." She recognized the voice immediately. Bellamy was pulling the front door closed behind him, blocking the shouts and music from her ears. "You're missing your own party, Princess."

She laughed and turned back to the street, sensing rather than seeing him come and stand beside her.

"I tried to stop them, but Raven and Octavia are too stubborn for their own good."

"Must be something that runs in the family."

"Ha ha," he said sarcastically before holding out two small packages to her. Clarke looked up at him in surprise. "Happy Birthday, Princess."

"Bellamy you didn't have to-"

"Just open the presents, Clarke."

She grinned eagerly at him before grabbing the presents from his hands. Setting the larger one on the railing, Clarke began to tear the silver wrapping paper off the smaller package. She could feel Bellamy's eyes on her and could sense his nervousness.

Once all the wrapping paper was gone all the remained in Clarke's small hands was a package of fancy colored pencils.

"Bellamy I'm 26 not 6 but I appreciate the-" She began mockingly before being interrupted by his rough baritone.

"There's another one, Princess." The seriousness in his eyes startled her.

Clarke set the pencils on a wicker table beside the camping chairs and grabbed the other, larger present. It turned out to be a beautiful, sizable sketchbook. She stared down at it, speechless, as Bellamy began to ramble. He scratched the back of his neck nervously as he spoke.

"You told me how much you use to sketch and paint and how you once wanted to be an artist so I thought you might like them. When Wells was here he talked to me one night about how happy it use to make you and how you hadn't really sketched much since your dad died and I just thought… I don't know, it helped O after Mom died to keep gardening so maybe it would help you to cope with your dad and with what Finn did and that girl at the hospital if you had an outlet, something that made you happy and helped you to just… I don't know, relax a bit. That's why I run and… I don't know it's probably a stupid gift. I'm sorry if it-"

His anxious rant ended when Clarke wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her face into the spot where his neck met his shoulder.

After a long pause, she felt him reciprocate the hug. At first the strong, thick arms that held her were hesitant and gentle, as if he was afraid of breaking her, but after a beat his hold tightened and pressed her chest against his.

"Thank you. It's a really nice present, Bellamy." Clarke said after pulling away from his warmth.

He grinned down at her sheepishly. "So you gonna try to sketch again?"

Clarke dropped her gaze from his eyes and looked out at the street. "I… It's just…"

She felt his large, calloused hand wrap around hers. "Its okay if you don't want to now, but maybe at some point."

Clarke looked back at him and nodded. "At some point."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Clarke drank in his appearance, the ruffled dark curls, his tanned freckled cheeks, the tiny scar above his upper lip. She felt her eyes settle on his lips and suddenly wondered what he tasted like.

Bellamy's hand around hers tightened almost imperceptibly and Clarke stepped closer to him instinctively. His dark eyes seemed impossibly darker and entirely focused on her lower lip. Clarke's breath hitched when his tongue wet his lips.

Suddenly the front door burst open and a very drunk Jasper flew onto the porch, totally oblivious to the way Clarke and Bellamy leapt away from each other.

"Clarke! There you are! Its time for candles!"

"W-What?" Clarke stammered. Her heart was pounding and she could feel the blush on her cheeks.

"Cake! Its time for Cake!"

"Oh, of course." Clarke hurried inside after Jasper, avoiding Bellamy's gaze. She set his presents on the coffee table and quickly walked to the kitchen where everyone was waiting to sing Happy Birthday.

It wasn't until after the cake had been cut and a happy, hungry silence filled the room that Bellamy walked in. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the night, unless in the company of others.

As Clarke lay in bed that night, the party having finally ended at 4am, she tried her best not to overanalyze how warm Bellamy's heated gaze had made her whole body feel despite the September chill or how close they had been to closing that tiny gap between them on the front porch. Clarke didn't want too think too much about what it all meant. After Finn, she had decided to take a break from relationships. She wanted to deal with her own issues before giving herself up to someone else. Plus, the idea of a relationship with Bellamy was just ridiculous. He was her housemate and landlord, but more important he was Bellamy. And the idea of her and Bellamy together was just plain strange… right? She groaned in frustration and buried her head in her pillow.

By the time she rolled out of bed the next morning, Clarke had decided to chalk it all up to alcohol (even though she had only had one beer but what does that matter). Bellamy seemed to be of the same inclination. Neither one of them mentioned what had happened on the porch, choosing instead to act like nothing was different. However, every time Clarke's eyes feel on the sketchbook that now sat on her desk, she couldn't help but remember how it felt to be pressed against Bellamy Blake's chest.

At the end of September Bellamy completed his training as a police officer. Clarke, Jasper, Monty, and Raven accompanied Octavia to the induction ceremony in downtown Chicago. Jasper took far too many pictures while Octavia tried to pretend she wasn't crying as Bellamy received his badge. Clarke could see Miller beaming from where he was standing with the other officers.

They went out to a popular bar downtown after the ceremony and spent the night drinking, dancing, and sharing embarrassing stories about Bellamy as a kid.

"I was not a nerd."

"Oh, please Bell, you so were. You still are."

"Octavia is right, Bellamy," Monty added. "I mean you, Murphy, and Miller scared half of us shitless but we all know you how many books you had in your room."

"They weren't even fun books!" Octavia shrieked. "They were historical ones! What kind of teenage boy spends his free time reading non fiction?"

"Well to be fair," Jasper said. "Most of his free time was not spent reading."

"Okay," Octavia said rolling her eyes. "When he wasn't out womanizing and beating up the other local jackasses he was reading."

Clarke laughed at how red Bellamy's face was becoming. He made eye contact with her rolled his eyes at her amused face.

"I also worked three jobs and went to school, O."

"Yeah but that isn't free time, genius." Bellamy scoffed and ruffled Octavia's hair causing her to squirm and squeal.

When they got home, Clarke flopped down on her bed and pulled out her phone to call Wells.

A deep uneasiness settled in her stomach.

The screen showed seven missed calls from her mom, four of which had gone to voicemail. Even for her mother, that was a little extreme. Her mom had given her more space lately, only calling once or twice a week. Even in the first few weeks after Clarke left DC, Abigail Griffin never called her daughter more than three times a day and never left more than one voicemail. Before Clarke could unlock her phone to listen to her mom's voicemails, a text popped up.

'Clarke I know you are still mad but please call me sweetheart. It's about Wells.'

A/N: I'm sorry.