[A/N: Well here is the next chapter! It's not as long as the past few chapters have been but it's mostly a filler for the next chapter (if that makes sense). On another note, you guys are amazing! Honestly you all make my entire day when I see your comments/follows/favorites. It made me so giddy that you're enjoying my story as much as I am! Let me know what you think about this chapter (it can only go up from here, I promise). I also have another Non-AU story called Here With Me and it would mean a lot of you checked it out for me! You can also find me on Tumblr!: bellarkeymia]

Music Inspired: Work Song / Hozier (Massive Bellarke feels with this song, and all other Hozier songs at that.)

A pair of sad blue eyes stared at him before his eyes opened.

He jolted upright. His skin was on fire and his pulse was racing. He glanced to his left and saw the bed empty beside him. Not that he had expected anything else.

He brought a hand to his damp face and let out a panting breath as he fell back against the pillows. The sun was barely making its way into his room but it didn't make him feel much of anything. He still felt in the darkness.

He closed his eyes and saw her face. Her perfect face that looked at him so hopefully for that one split second. He hated how his heart raced once he saw her standing in his apartment. She was in one of those fancy dresses again and she never looked more out of place than she did standing in the middle of his living room.

Her eyes had locked with his and despite the excitement and the passion flowing through his veins, his first instinct was to get her away. So very far away from where he was. To protect her from the monster he knew he was.

He couldn't even remember the girl that he had his arm wrapped around because once she was in the room, nothing mattered. He couldn't live like that. He wasn't what she wanted and he knew it. And somewhere along the line she would too.

He had pushed her away and he almost chased after her because of the look she casted him. She looked so sad. She looked so disappointed.

It was better this way. Well, that's what he kept telling himself.

He opened his eyes and rubbed at them with the bottom of his palms before he sat up and tossed his legs over the side of the bed. The ground was cold. He swam in the feeling.

He brought a hand through his hair as he made his way out of his bedroom with a yawn on his lips. He heard music playing softly from the kitchen as he made his way toward it. He felt a small smile make its way toward his face as he saw Octavia spin around as she cleaned up the kitchen.

He yawned once more before he picked up a spare garbage bag and started to throw cups into the bag. No matter what kind of night they had before, Octavia always cleaned up the next day right at the crack of dawn. At first it bothered him but when he asked her why she did it, she shrugged and she said, "I want our home to be nice".

He gathered a routine as he threw cup after cup into the garbage bag. He heard Octavia sigh behind him and he waited for it. Images of Octavia coming up to him the night before asking him if he was alright flashed before his eyes. He was the one usually asking her that.

"You can't run away from everything, Bellamy." Her voice was softer than usual but the harsh tone was still implied. He turned to her but her back was to him as she continued to throw plastic cups into a garbage bag.

"I'm not running away from anything." He didn't even believe the words coming out of his mouth and he didn't even need to see her to guess the look on her face.

He thought about hours earlier. How he was suddenly thinking about her and how she showed up out of nowhere. Her skin looked soft and the look on her face was one that had already started to haunt him, if his dreams were any recollection. He wanted so badly to follow her out but he didn't.

He wasn't worth the risk.

He knew it and she would know it soon enough. They always did. His father knew he wasn't worth anything. His mother dropped him at the drop of the hat. A girl like Clarke Griffin would drop him before the leaves changed color.

"The course of true love never did run smooth." He glanced at the pair of green eyes suddenly facing him. She offered a smile that he hadn't seen in years. "It's Sh-."

"Shakespeare. I know." She smiled at him again before she turned back around.

He thought about Octavia a few years back. She had to do a report on a writer and his helpless romantic sister picked Shakespeare. Weeks after, she was obsessed with his words, jotting them all over her room and covering every inch of her favorite journal. He wondered if their old house still held the faint words on the walls. It wondered if whoever had her old room felt the love covering the surfaces.

He looked at the back of Octavia's head. He wondered if that's when it all went wrong for her. How words made her think love was invincible. Part of him loved her for it. Part of him hated how it made her view the world so vulnerably, so weakly.

Her back was still toward him. "Love is worth the risk." She wasn't talking to him, or maybe she was. His mind flashed to years and years before this moment when his mother had muttered the same words as he held a newborn Octavia in his hands.

His mother didn't even glance at her. Her words bouncing around to calm her own mind. He had glanced down at Octavia as he felt his mother slip away from him. Away from them.

He shook his head and then focused back toward shoving the remaining plastic cups into the garbage bag. He thought about the words. He thought about her. He thought about his own life.

He was nothing. Love was nothing. Shakespeare didn't know shit. Love was a risk he wasn't willing to take. At least not anymore.

He tried to shake the feeling of her but she stuck with him all morning long.

…

There was grease covering the right side of his face.

He brought a white rag toward his cheek but it didn't help with anything. He still felt the grease sinking into his skin like a sort of tattoo.

He pushed himself out from under the car as he let out a breath. It wasn't even noon and he had already fixed and re-oiled seven cars. He was certain that the only thing that was keeping him in motion was the cup of crappy coffee he had on his drive over.

He rubbed his hands on his jeans as he stood up. He made his way toward the hood of the car and was about to change the oil when he heard his name being called out. He narrowed his eyebrows as he saw his boss standing a few feet away gesturing toward his office. He let out a breath at the thought of a break.

He tossed his rag onto the ground as he made his way toward the poor excuse for an office.

"Sir?" He felt stupid uttering the words because his boss was only four years older than him. Nathan Miller. A hotshot basketball player that broke his knee at the peek of his career. Leaving him to drown in this town, just like everyone else.

"Shut the door."

His eyes grew wide at the demand but he found himself shutting the door behind him anyway. He stood awkwardly between the door and the makeshift desk Nathan was sitting behind. He felt the grease on his face even more when Nathan gestured for him to take a seat.

He waited a second and glared before he took a seat. The plastic chair rubbing into his back.

There were a few moments of silence before Nathan laced his fingers together and brought them across his desk. He noticed that his suit had it's own spots of grease gracing the sleeves.

"This has been a hard decision for me, Bellamy."

His eyes grew wide. He sat up straighter in his chair.

Nathan sat up as well, pushing his grease-covered sleeves up his arms. He coughed into his elbow before he offered him a sad smile. "I'm going to have to let you go."

The words didn't sink in until he replayed them in his mind. He heard them flow in and out about fifty times in a matter of ten seconds. He couldn't loose this job. He couldn't afford to loose this job. "I'm sorry, what?"

Nathan offered him a weak attempt of a smile. "With the budget cuts, I can't afford a staff of ten." He stared at him with wide eyes.

He thought about the times Octavia used to cry because she was so hungry. He thought about the hunger that used to fill his own stomach. He thought about the small apartment they could barely afford with Octavia's job and his two jobs. He wouldn't be able to afford it now.

He felt his anger building. He felt his pulse rushing.

He didn't act out on it, though. Even though various ideas of throwing Nathan onto the ground and smashing in his face occurred vividly. He only offered a nod and heard Nathan spit out things about paychecks and unemployment.

The words didn't register with him and he only came back into the conversation when Nathan stood and offered him his hand with a sad smile.

He wouldn't be able to afford anything.

He was becoming more and more of nothing.

The feeling of grease never left his face.

…

He was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

He already tossed ideas around in his head the moment he drove away from the garage toward his apartment. He could pick up extra shifts at The Ark and apply for another job. He wouldn't make as much but he would make enough. Enough to keep Octavia full and able to go to classes in the Fall.

He pulled tightly onto his hair and let out a breath.

The door opened and he looked up to see his sister walk in with a grin on her face. It dropped once she saw him. Her eyebrows were pushed together slightly. Her face was the mirror image of his sometimes.

She dropped her purse onto the table as she crossed her arms and walked toward him. "Why are you home so early? Is everything okay?"

He thought about the past half-hour. He glanced at her. "Everything's fine." Everything wasn't fine but he couldn't tell her. He couldn't let the one person he knew he loved, down. He mumbled off a story about why he was home early and for a spilt second, he saw the disbelief on her face but then her eyes softened and she nodded before heading toward the kitchen.

She was talking about her day but he couldn't focus on her words. He could only think about what a let down he was.

"Bellamy?"

He looked up and saw the concerned look on her face. He tried to smile. "Sorry, what?"

She gave him a strange look before the hopeful grin made its way toward her face. "Can I borrow the car? I have a date tonight."

He stared at her for a moment. He thought about Atom. He thought about losing his job. He thought about losing her. "What?" His tone was clipped.

Her face still held a smile even though her eyes grew wide. Her arms hung strong by her sides as if she was preparing for battle. "I have a date and I'd like the car."

They didn't speak. They started to glare at another.

"Recall what happened last time you have a boyfriend, O?"

Her eyes hardened. Her fists curled into themselves as she looked at him. He thought it was the strongest she ever looked. "What's wrong with you?"

I'm going to have to let you go

He stood up. His hand pointing accusingly at her face. "What's wrong with me? What about what's wrong with you? I have to deal with whatever boyfriend you get because lets be honest, Octavia, you don't have the best taste." He dropped his hand. He took a deep breath. He glared.

Her eyes were wide but he could see the tears welding up. She still stood up tall. "Fuck you, Bellamy."

He couldn't stop. The fire in him only continued to grow. "If you could be stable for a fucking second we wouldn't have this problem."

"It's not like you have to deal with it, Bellamy."

"Yes I do!" His voice was loud. It seemed to bounce off the walls. "The day you were born I had to deal with it." He felt out of breath. "The day you were born my life fucking ended."

It was a low blow. He could feel it once he left his lips. Her shoulders slumped and her strong stature started to fade. He could only image everything going through her brain. He wanted to take it back but he couldn't.

He reached for her but she pushed away his arms.

His heart started to race as he watched her scramble off toward her room.

Leaving him alone with the words he spoke haunting him.

…

Whenever John Murphy was in town his life blurred together.

Mostly because he was in a constant state of alcohol. His skin felt on fire as he felt Murphy pat his back while offering him another drink.

He took it without hesitation as he did a quick cheer with Jasper and Monty.

He was happy that his mind was finally turning off, at least for a little bit. Octavia hadn't come out of her room all day. He had knocked countless times but she hadn't made a single noise.

The words he said burned in his mind. He needed another drink or maybe five.

When his life was clouded enough, he sat up to make his way outside for a quick breath. The cool North Carolina air hit his lungs quickly. He soaked in the sensation as he stood against the brick of the hole in the wall bar he was at.

His vision was going in and out but it didn't make him feel any better. He was a selfish coward. He was a poor excuse as a brother. He was a poor excuse for a human being.

He reached into his pocket and scrolled through his contacts to call Octavia when another name caused him to freeze. Her name stood up clearly in his hazed mind. Without much of a thought he hit her name and brought the phone to his ear.

There was ringing in his ear for what seemed like forever but suddenly a faint voice came onto the other line. "Hello?"

He soaked in the velvet sound of her voice. He imagined her holding her phone delicately toward her ear. He was silent so there was another greeting, this time not as tentative.

"I'm sorry."

He heard her take a breath. "Bellamy?"

The way she even spoke his name drove him wild. He closed his eyes and felt his heart racing quickly in his chest. He pulled the phone away from his ear and quickly disconnected the call. He brought his phone toward his forehead and held it there as he tried to calm down his racing heart. His racing mind.

He pushed himself off of the wall and headed back into the bar. The music hit his bones. His vision was starting to cloud again.

When he took his seat back he felt Murphy pat him on the back before he offered him another drink.

He drank it. And then another. And another.

When he looked up again, he saw the boy who caused his sister so much pain across the bar. He thought about the words he said to his sister. He thought about how much he hated himself. He closed his eyes for a brief second as he zoned out on his friends laughter beside him. He took a breath and pushed himself off of the bar as he made his way toward the other side. He could hear everyone calling out his name from behind him but he didn't stop.

He made his way to Atom and pulled him off his chair.

"What the fuck man?"

He couldn't think. He pushed his fist into Atom's stomach. He kept hitting him before he felt his back against the ground. He couldn't hear the screams from the bar around him.

All he hear was the words he shouted at his sister.

Then it all went black.

…

He woke up with a pounding feeling in his skull.

He glanced around the cell and cursed as he swung his legs across the side of the steel bed. He rubbed at his head and stood up.

He swayed softly and felt the stale taste of alcohol on his tongue. He brought a hand toward his face and felt dry blood flake off.

He was about to yell for someone when he saw a chubby police office waddle toward him and tell him his charges have been dropped.

He narrowed his eyebrows as he watched the cell door open. He waited a second before the office grew bored and waved him out with an annoyed expression. He glanced at the watch on his wrist (one he should probably give back to it's owner) and saw it was little after eight in the morning.

He walked down the narrow hallway and saw Octavia first. Then he saw her. Her hair was flowing around her and she was wearing and oversized pink sweatshirt. She stood out against the gray of the room. She stood out anywhere.

Octavia was chewing her nails before she looked up and noticed him. She looked relieved as she made her way toward him. She went to hug him but stopped herself. She stood up tall and crossed her arms. "I called Clarke." He nodded. "I couldn't – I couldn't afford to get you out myself." She spat the words out like he had spat them out to her the day before. She was implying the words he has spoken to her. He lowered his head. He felt pain enter his chest. "I'll be in the car."

He watched her go before he looked over at her. He felt sick to his stomach and he knew it wasn't because of the loss of blood or alcohol he was sure was still swimming around in his system. Her eyes weren't like they were the last time he saw her. The blue in her eyes seemed so much more vibrant.

He made he way toward her.

He wanted to say something. He wanted to apologize for what he did. He wanted to apologize for not being a better guy, for not being someone who deserves her. Instead he said, "I'll pay you back."

She looked down at the ground, not expecting the words he said, either. "It's alright."

Her skin was so soft. He wanted to run his finger across her cheek and then explore every inch of her that was beneath her sweater. He cursed himself for his thoughts. "No, it's not. I can't –." He paused. He thought about the first time he saw her. How she ran into his life, literally. He thought about the first time he touched her skin. He thought about the first time they kissed.

He wondered if that feeling would haunt him forever. It already was.

"I can't not pay you back, Clarke."

She nodded her perfect head and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She looked at him fully and he wished they were standing here. In a police station with him covered in dry blood and bruises and her with a lack of sleep etching her features.

"I should get going." Her voice mumbled as she twirled a pair of car keys around. She started to head out the way Octavia had when he called out her name. She spun around slowly with a look on her face that was a mixture of confusion and hopefulness.

"I-." He wanted so much to say but nothing came of the sort. He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to say how beautiful she was. He wanted to tell her how fucked up he was. He wanted to tell her to turn around and never look back. He looked at her and let out a breath. "Thank you."

She nodded and turned back way from him. She waited a second before she quickly walked out.

He wanted to chase after her but he didn't. He couldn't. No matter how much he wanted to.