A/N: Sorry for the delay! My life got hectic! Get ready for some angst and revelations.
March 20th turned out to be one of the worst days of Clarke's life.
It started that morning, when her phone's alarm didn't go off leaving Clarke to wake up fifteen minutes before her shift started. On top of that, she had a double shift that day. After dashing into the shower and running down the stairs, she threw herself out the front door while shouting a quick goodbye to Bellamy who was standing, bewildered, on the steps.
Once at the hospital, things didn't improve much. The first half of Clarke's shift was filled with an array of increasingly stubborn and frustrating patients leaving her in a pitiful mood as she headed to the cafeteria for her break. With a sigh of irritation Clarke dropped down into a plastic chair with her yogurt. Resting her chin on her hand she began to scroll through Buzzfeed on her phone in an attempt to distract herself from her shitty morning.
"So you do look at your phone after all."
Clarke started at Lexa's voice, dropping her phone down to the table as the other woman sat across from her. She felt her face flush. There were at least five unread texts from Lexa on her phone from the past couple days. It wasn't that Clarke was ignoring her; she just didn't really feel like talking to Lexa. Things had gotten weird between them and Clarke wasn't sure how to end it. She had never been great with breakups. Okay, maybe she was ignoring Lexa.
"I've been really busy, between my mom's visit and-"
"Clarke, I know for a fact your mom left weeks ago and what would keep you so busy you couldn't return a text?"
Clarke bit her lip, suddenly angry. The utter shit that was her morning combined with her frustration with Lexa boiled over.
"What happened to not getting attached, Lexa? When this- whatever this is- started you said it was just for fun, that it wasn't serious. For something so casual you are pretty insistent."
"Well maybe I don't want this to be casual. I think I have made that pretty clear."
"Lexa, I told you when this started that I wasn't looking for something serious."
The brunette rolled her eyes. "This is about him isn't it?"
"What?" Clarke asked, confused.
"Oh please, Clarke. I can see exactly what this is. You are into Bellamy but that would be too acceptable. You still want to be rebellious, right? That's why you moved to Chicago and why you barely talk to your mom-"
"Excuse you, I do talk to my mom. In case you forgot she just came-"
"Yeah so that you could show her how much you refuse to be what she wants you to be! God, Clarke. How many times have we talked about how everything about your life out here is the opposite of what she wanted for you back in DC?"
"I still don't see how this has anything to do with-"
"You just wanted me around so that you could be what she doesn't want. You told me yourself that she is uncomfortable with you dating girls. It's Bellamy you want, but it's more edgy to be with another woman. I get it," Lexa spit out. Clarke felt her blood boil.
"Really? You of all people are going to sit her and say that I'm not really into women? Fuck you, Lexa. I don't want to be in a serious relationship with you. I don't want to be in one with anyone right now. That doesn't mean that I'm not attracted to women."
"Whatever, Clarke. You don't have to text me anymore. I get it, your little phase is over."
Clarke set her jaw in anger. "Really, please tell me more about how my sexuality is just a phase. Is yours a phase too?"
Lexa only glared in response, sliding her chair back dramatically and leaving the cafeteria in a storm. Her appetite gone, Clarke pushed her yogurt away furiously. She was torn between relief for finally ending it with Lexa and bitter resentment at her comments. Before she had too much time to stew over the argument, however, her phone vibrated indicating the end of her break. With a frustrated huff she tossed her uneaten snack in the trash and made her way back to the ER.
Hours later as her shift was winding down and Clarke began imaging the bubble bath and (hopefully) a home cooked dinner courtesy of Bellamy waiting for her at home Dr. Nyko grabbed her arm in the hall. He was breathing heavily, clearly having just been rushing down the hall.
"Thank God, Clarke I know your shift is over in 15 minutes but we need you."
"Of course! What's going on?" Clarke asked, alarmed, as she followed Nyko who had taken off down the hall again swerving around nurses and patients.
"Three cops. Two partners and their supervisor. They were involved in a shooting. Two of them need emergency surgery; they are critical. The third just needs minor stiches and a concussion check. You take him so Anya and I can deal with the two criticals."
Before Clarke could respond, or even pause to think, Nyko whipped around and shoved her towards a door Clarke assumed led to the luckiest cop. She grabbed the clipboard from the door not bothering to check the name or patient information. The patient wasn't in a dangerous condition, so Clarke preferred to meet and look over them before getting into the technicalities of her work.
"Hello, my name is Dr. Griffin and-"
As soon as Clarke looked up at the man sitting on the hospital bed she felt her stomach drop. The air seemed to leave her lungs and it was only by some miracle that she managed to stay standing.
Sterling looked up at her, surprise on his face. There was a wound on his arm from where a bullet had grazed him and his skin looked a little too pale, but his well being was the last thing on Clarke's mind. Nyko had said two partners and their supervisor. Sterling was not a supervisor, but he was a partner.
She tried to open her mouth to say something -anything- but nothing came out.
"Clarke-"
Before Sterling could say more Clarke was spinning around and rushing out of the room. The look on his face and the tone of his voice had said everything.
The hall seemed to blur before her. It felt like she was moving in slow motion, not able to get away fast enough. There was a weight in her gut that reminded her of the night her mom called to tell her Wells had been shot and of that awful day she spent crying on her parents bed as her dad's body sat in a morgue. She wanted to throw up and collapse and scream all at the same time.
Suddenly a strong arm gripped her, stopping her in the middle of the hallway.
"Clarke. Clarke look at me. Clarke!" Finally her wild, panicked eyes found Lexa. The other woman's face was full of concern and something like pity. "Clarke, give me the clipboard. I'll handle his partner. You shouldn't be part of this you are too involved. I've already explained it all to Nyko."
Tears suddenly welled in Clarke's eyes as the true reality of the situation set in. She shoved the clipboard into Lexa's hands. "Where is he?" Her voice shook almost as much as her hands.
"Room 228. For now at least. They are rushing him into-"
Clarke was gone before Lexa could finish. By the time she reached his room it was too late. The bed was empty; they had already taken Bellamy into emergency surgery. Deep down the rational part of her brain told her that was a good thing, the sooner the better. At the same time, however, she had wanted to see him one last time.
She stood in the silent room, staring at the empty bed as tears ran down her cheeks. A bang in the hallways started her out of her shock. Suddenly all she could concentrate on was all that she had to do. She had to call Octavia. Oh God, Octavia. And Raven, and Miller and Monty and Jasper and Harper and everyone. She had to check out of her shift, she had to-
"Um, Dr. Griffin? I'm sorry but we need this room for a patient."
Clarke turned to see a young nurse rolling an elderly man into the room. She wiped her eyes quickly and murmured an apology as she moved out into the hall. As soon as she was out of the room, something in Clarke snapped. Tears wouldn't fix anything. They didn't fix her father. No, she needed to stay calm and stay rational and deal with everything that had to be dealt with.
After throwing up the contents of her stomach and cleaning her face in the staff bathroom, Clarke made her way to one of the many reception counters in the ER. The nurse at the counter looked up at her in question. "We have a patient in trauma named Bellamy Blake, he is a police officer involved in a shooting." She willed her voice to stay steady even as her stomach churned. "I just want to check if his emergency contact has been contacted yet."
The wide-eyed nurse looked around for any coworkers. "I'm really sorry," she squinted at the name embroidered on Clarke's scrubs, "Dr. Griffin, but I don't think I can give out that information."
Clarke huffed in frustration. The nurse was clearly new to the job. "I promise you nurses do this all the time."
"You aren't his authorized doctor so-"
"I'm a very close friend of the family and I need to know if his sister has been told about his condition," Clarke said a little too loud, her voice cracking midsentence.
The nurse bit her lip and stared up at Clarke, clearly at war with herself. Finally she nodded, turning down to her computer. "Um, it appears that she has not been contacted yet. I just started my shift and was about to begin making the calls Sheila didn't do before-"
"Okay," Clarke breathed out, nodding. "Okay, um, why don't you let me call her okay?"
Once again the nurse looked unsure causing Clarke to lock her jaw in frustration.
"Look, I know this isn't protocol and I know you are new and just want to do your job right, but please let me handle this. I'll call her in front of you if you want me to. I know the family very well so please just let me do this." Clarke could fell the tears in her eyes again. The nurse nodded slowly and turned the phone towards Clarke. "Thank you," Clarke said quietly, a lump forming in her throat. She stared at the phone for a long moment. Yes, she knew it would be better for Octavia to hear the news from her but she had no idea what to say. 'Hey, Octavia. Your brother, the only family you have left, the man who survived three tours in an active war zone, is very possibly dying at my hospital right now.' Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached for the phone.
Octavia picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?" Her voice was hesitant and filled with worry; it only made Clarke feel more panicked.
"Hey, Octavia, it's Clarke."
"Oh, Clarke," Octavia laughed. "Thank God. I thought- I saw the hospital's number on my phone and I freaked out. I thought something had happened to Bellamy or you or something. What's up? Did you leave your phone at home because-"
"Octavia," Clarke began, her voice breaking. She opened and closed her mouth several times trying to form a sentence.
"Clarke," Octavia asked. "Clarke what is it?" The panic in Octavia's voice was growing steadily. "Clarke talk to me what is happening? Oh God, Clarke what is it?"
"It's Bellamy." She heard Octavia suck her breath in on the other line. "There… He was… He is in emergency surgery right now. There was a shooting apparently. I don't know the details about what happened or how he is or anything. They wont let me near the situation because I am involved and doctors can't work on-"
"Is he going to be okay, Clarke? Please tell me his going to be okay. I'm on my way right now. What is going on, is he okay?"
Clarke could her the utter fear in Octavia's voice, after all her own voice sounded the same. "I don't know," she replied with a sob. "I have no idea but it's bad, O. It's real bad. He is in trauma and my supervisor said its critical and I just. Oh God, I don't know."
"Clarke, we are on our way. I'm driving 'Tav," Lincoln said. Clarke realized he must have taken the phone from Octavia. "Is there anything you need, should I-"
"No, no. Just get her down here. I don't… I don't know how this is going to end so she should be here."
When she hung up a moment later the nurse at the counter looked up at her in sympathy. "I'm really sorry, Dr. Griffin." Clarke just nodded, offering a watery smile. She didn't trust her voice to work properly.
Ten minutes later Octavia came barreling down the hall, Lincoln hot on her heels. Jumping up from her seat in the hall Clarke met Octavia halfway. The younger woman pulled her into a tight embrace that Clarke fiercely returned. When they finally pulled apart both were rubbing tears from their eyes. Lincoln rested a hand on Octavia's shoulder, his face grim, as she asked Clarke if she had learned any
more information.
"No, we won't know anything until he is done with surgery. Come on, I'll show you to the family area of trauma."
The trio spent the next hour and a half sitting in the waiting area. An hour in, the recently discharged Sterling met them. Octavia was silent for the duration of their wait. She leaned her head on Lincoln's shoulder as silent tears flowed down her cheeks. Clarke wanted to say something, anything, to comfort her but was at a loss for what to do. Bellamy would know what to say. He was always so much better at this sort of thing.
She missed him so much already. Just thinking of him made her chest tight. She had barely even spoken to him that morning. Her malfunctioning alarm had caused her to shout a quick goodbye. What if that was the last time she would ever see him? Or speak to him? Suddenly Clarke's throat felt to thick and she dropped her head into her hands.
Sterling placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and let out a long sigh. "It should have been me."
Clarke raised her head, eyebrows scrunched together. "No, don't say that. Neither of you deserve this."
"Come on, Clarke. The guy survived three tours in the Middle East just for this to happen a few blocks from his own house."
"That doesn't mean-"
"It was meant for me. The bullet. I didn't see the third perp. He was coming in from the side and I was focused on the other two we were restraining. Bellamy pushed me to the side and took the bullet. It should have been me."
Clarke was pretty sure she heard Octavia mutter something about Bellamy being a reckless idiot. Part of her agreed, but at the same time she was not at all surprised he had taken a bullet for his partner. "That's not your fault, Sterling. That's just how Bellamy is."
"But I should have-"
"Ms. Blake?"
All four heads whipped around to Dr. Nyko. Clarke's heart sank as she saw the somber expression on the familiar face. That combined with the fact it was him speaking to the family, not a nurse, was not a good sign.
Octavia stood slowly on shaky legs as Nyko made his way over to her. "I'm sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Ms. Blake. My name is Dr. Nyko, I am the head surgeon of trauma and I have personally been operating on your brother, Officer Blake." Octavia nodded and mumbled a watery thank you. "Now I'm sure you are all concerned," Nyko said, his gaze falling on each of the four people there for Bellamy. "I'm very happy to tell you that for now he is stable. We have managed to extract the bullet and we have stopped the bleeding, but he isn't totally in the clear yet. We expect him to make a full recovery but until tomorrow morning we are going to keep him listed as critical condition."
"But he is alive?" Octavia asked.
"Yes, he is. He sustained a gunshot wound to the abdomen. Fortunately for him it appears to have just missed any major organs, but he did lose a lot of blood."
Lincoln stood and put a comforting arm around Octavia. "When can she see him?"
"The nurses are getting him set up in a room now, someone will come and get you when he is able to have visitors. Just be aware he may not wake for a few hours at least."
"Thank you," Octavia mumbled, turning into Lincoln's embrace. Nyko nodded his head at Lincoln before moving towards Clarke.
"How are you, Clarke? Lexa told me you know him well."
"I'm fine," she replied, a little shakily. "How bad is it? Be honest with me, I'll know when I see him anyways."
Nyko sighed heavily. "Its bad, but not horrible. The surgery went well and we don't believe there is any internal bleeding or rupture of any organs, but honestly we can't be sure. You know that. It's always difficult with these things, but the best team we have worked on him. I would say there is an 80% chance he will be fine, given time to recover."
As the night wore on Octavia and Clarke took turns sitting with Bellamy. Lincoln returned to his and Octavia's home to pick up things they might need, dropping Sterling off at his home to recover further.
As the sun started rising over the city Clarke took her seat by Bellamy's bedside as Octavia left to get some coffee and breakfast. Her experience told her that Bellamy's steady heartbeat and lack of complications thus far meant that he was almost certainly out of the woods, but that didn't stop the heaviness that rested in her chest as she watched his peaceful face. It reminded her, in some morbid, twisted way, of how the faces of the dead look during a wake. She shook this thought out of her head, instead choosing to focus on the steady rise and hall of his chest.
A few centimeters in any direction and the bullet would have killed him. Nyko didn't have to explain to Clarke just how insanely lucky Bellamy was to be alive. The thought made anger swell in her. The stupid ass had thrown himself in harms way. Instead of yelling out to warn Sterling, or pulling him down, or doing something, anything, else he had chosen to jump in front of the gun. Clarke angrily wiped a stray tear from her eyes, already swollen from the tears that had come and gone throughout the night.
Reaching over, she grabbed his limp hand. The warmth was reassuring. It reminded Clarke that he was still with her. Despite what could have been, he was here. He was safe and alive and for that she was so unbelievable thankful. She stretched her free hand up to brush hair away from Bellamy's forehead. Her fingers rested for a moment too long on his skin.
"You fucking idiot," she whispered, voice still watery, as she lowered her head down to the hospital bed. It had been a full day now that Clarke had been awake and the emotions of the past few hours only added to her exhaustion.
"I hope that's not your eulogy for me."
Clarke's head shot up, her eyes wide, as she felt Bellamy weakly squeeze her hand. His voice was hoarse and quiet, his eyes tired and only half open, but he was awake. He was alive and awake and talking and still with her and suddenly Clarke couldn't think straight anymore. A sob escaped her throat followed quickly by a gurgled laugh and then more tears. Without thinking twice she leaned forward and planted a sloppy kiss on Bellamy's cheek, still gripping his hand tightly.
"You idiot, you almost died," she said quietly. Despite her words there was nothing but fondness and relief in her voice.
"Sterling? Is he-"
"He is perfectly fine. He got stiches for a graze but is home now." Under other circumstances, his utter lack of concern for his own condition would have annoyed her but now it brought nothing but utter joy. It was such a Bellamy thing to do; to ask about another while he was lying in a hospital bed in the trauma ward of the ER.
"Good."
"How do you feel?"
"Like shit."
Clarke laughed tearfully. She brought a hand to rest on his chest, well above the spot where she knew he had been shot. "I was so worried, Bellamy. They gave me Sterling's chart and a run down of what had happened and as soon as I saw him I knew. I just knew…" A lump formed in Clarke's throat, preventing her from continuing as more tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Hey," Bellamy said gently, lifting a shaky hand up to rest on the one she had on his chest. "I'm okay, Clarke. It's fine, I'm here."
"But you almost weren't, Bellamy, and I can't… I don't know what I would have done without you. You are… I can't..." She sighed, eyes searching his face, trying to memorize every detail. "You are my best friend. I would have been so lost without you."
He looked up at her intensely, his fingers caressing her knuckles. "Clarke, I-"
"Oh my God!"
Both Bellamy and Clarke's eyes turned to the door where Octavia stood, frozen in shock. A moment later relief flooded her face as she rushed over to her brother, smothering him in kisses and curses.
Clarke stepped back, smiling at the reunion, before moving towards the door to give the siblings some privacy and to call Lincoln. Before she left she glanced back towards the bed and caught Bellamy's eye over Octavia's shoulder. A way of emotions washed over her. It was a strange mix of relief and sorrow and affection.
He came home a week later with orders to stay in bed and not over exert himself. Octavia and Clarke interpreted Nyko's orders as their personal mission. At all times, one of the women was in the house to make sure the very stubborn, headstrong, and "I swear I am okay I can handle walking to the kitchen" man in their lives didn't do anything stupid. The news about Bellamy's injury quickly makes it way around their social circle leading to a month's supply of casseroles that made Octavia and Clarke's lives a little bit easier.
One night, about a week after Bellamy was discharged from the hospital, Clarke sat curled up against his side in bed. She and Octavia had moved the TV up to his room to prevent him from attempting the stairs and as a result Clarke had spent most of her free time over the past week in his bed. A casserole dish sat precariously across both their laps as they took turns digging their forks into the lukewarm food. It was a familiar scene for Clarke at that point in the week, but as she rested her head on Bellamy's shoulder and felt him chuckle slightly at the movie they were watching Clarke suddenly felt overwhelmed with affection for the man next to her.
Yes, it was a simple, basic thing. Sitting in bed, eating dinner, watching some dumb movie that made them laugh like idiots, but something about it how natural and domestic it was sent warmth all through Clarke's body. It was in that moment that it really hit her that she had almost lost him. She was a rational person and, as any rational person would, knew weeks ago that Bellamy almost died. But somehow it had never really felt real until this moment. Clarke imagined the room if events had gone differently. If the gun had been aimed a little to the side, if Bellamy had moved a little slower or faster, if the medics hadn't gotten to the scene when they did. It would be dark, empty. A mausoleum for both him and his mother. There would be no laughter, no warm sheets, not comforting glow of the TV. Most importantly, there would be no Bellamy. Nobody to talk to about both the shittiest aspects of her life and the most trivial topics imaginable. Nobody willing to drive her all the way to DC at the drop of a hat. Nobody who could turn an awkward day with her mother into a wonderful time. Nobody who understood her better than she understood herself.
Clarke turned her head to look up at his face. She took in the warm smile, slightly lopsided and marred by the scar above his lip. The scar he had gotten when he was thirteen and got in a fight with a kid who had called his mother a dirty word. She thought about all the stupid fights they had gotten into and their night at the beach when he had confessed his sins to her and when she had done the same in DC. She thought of the nights they spent together, curled against each other's bodies and the art supplies he had gotten her for her birthday and how wonderful Christmas with him had been. She thought of New Years and how it had felt to have his heated gaze on her and his warm lips against hers and his hands everywhere.
It hit her like a freight train.
She loved him. She was in love with him.
Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, as she thought about all the time she had wasted worrying about everything that could go wrong if she was honest with him.
What if he had died? That would be time she could never get back. Even now it made her angry. She would never have those days back no matter how much she wanted them all of a sudden. Clarke wanted more time with him. She wanted him to be her future, she wanted to give him her yesterdays, and she wanted to never come anywhere near as close to losing him as she had that month.
"Clarke? Are you okay?"
Coming out of her thoughts Clarke looked up at Bellamy. She could feel tears on her cheeks causing her to blush. "Yeah, I'm fine," she responded quietly, dropping her fork and linking her fingers through his. "I'm just really, really glad you are okay."
Bellamy smiled, causing Clarke's stomach to flip, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Me too, Princess." She snorted and rolled her eyes before brushing stray tears from her eyes.
That night, as she lay next to him in bed, Clarke listened to his steady breaths. She loved him, she knew that now. Maybe she had always known that but was just too afraid to acknowledge it. But now it was impossible to ignore. She had caught a glimpse of a future without him and now knew beyond a doubt that she didn't want to live the rest of her life with anyone other than the man next to her. He was her best friend, her partner in everything. He knew her better than she knew herself. She loved him more than she could remember loving anyone else.
Clarke Griffin was no longer afraid of loving Bellamy Blake. Instead, a new fear creeped into the corners of her exhausted heart. What if it was too late? What if Bellamy had moved on?
After all she had made it clear she didn't want anything more than friendship. Perhaps, in her desperate attempt to protect herself she had ruined the best thing she had ever known.
A/N: ONE CHAPTER LEFT OH MY GOD YOU GUYS
Anyways, I just want to thank y'all for all your love and sweet comments and general wonderfulness.
A couple quick things:
1) Get ready for the rating to go up
2) Love me on tumblr (clipmywingsandwalkmymiles)
3) You lovely people have gotten me nominated for the Bellarke Fanfiction Awards! Seriously I am so honored. If y'all want to be utter sweethearts you can vote for me and this fic sometime before June 30th! Vote for me in the Angst General Fiction category (I'll post the link on my tumblr)
Once again, thank you so much for your love and get pumped for the next chapter when these dorks finally take their pants off.