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“You’re avoiding me.”
It’s not a lie. And if Clarke is being honest with herself, they’re words she’s kind of been anticipating from him sooner or later. Now that things are fine with Eligius. Now that they’re all sharing the valley and trying to get along, and there’s no reason for the two of them to be strategizing or even really sharing the same space for extended periods of time. Now that she doesn’t have the distraction of an oncoming war to numb the fact that it hurts seeing him again after six years.
Now that he’s with someone else.
It’s late, and Clarke heaves a deep sigh, dropping the bandages she’s been sorting. Her back is to Bellamy, but when she turns, she comes face to face with him, four feet away, arms crossed, looking more like he’s 400 feet away. “I’m not,” she says, and this time it is a lie. “There’s just a lot to get done. Cabins to figure out, and guard schedules and medical shifts. Making sure no one kills each other,” she says, a small hint of smile playing at her lips. “Plus, I’ve got Madi, and making sure she’s adjusting to everything.”
“I think Madi’s adjusting fine,” he teases. “She’s pretty much everyone’s favorite, so...” he trails off, takes a step closer. “It’s you I’m worried about, Clarke. You’re not—” he sighs, rubs a hand over his face.
“I’m not what?” she asks.
“You’re not—you won’t talk to me, and you’ve always talked to me, even when we were at each other’s throats.”
And she almost tells him.
I did talk to you. For six years, I survived talking almost solely to you.
But she just presses her lips together tighter, refusing to let the words slip out. He doesn’t need more guilt. She knows Bellamy better than she knows herself most days, and she knows that the fact that he left her behind still eats at him, even now, even knowing she survived and she wasn’t alone.
“It’s just,” he continues. “For the last few months we’ve planned and we’ve strategized and we’ve negotiated and made peace, and now that everything is fine and we’re not fighting for our lives, it’s like you want nothing to do with me. Six years, Clarke. I went six years without my best friend, my partner, and now I have you back, and you’ll barely look at me.”
It’s enough to make her lose her composure. “I don’t have you back!” she shouts, and the way his face crumbles is enough to bring tears to her eyes. He takes a step back, away from her, but she keeps going, needing to finally get this out. Needing to say everything that’s been building up inside her from the moment she saw him with Echo, goofing around and standing close, whispering to each other next to the fire. “You can’t come home with someone else and then expect things to be the way they were before.”
At this, his hurt turns to total confusion, brows crinkling and making him impossibly cuter, which in return just makes Clarke ache more. “What? Clarke, I didn’t—I came home with our friends, with our family, I didn’t—”
“You came home with Echo,” she says softly. “She’s yours now. She’s your partner and your best friend, and your—”she breaks off, catching her breath and stifling a sob. She can’t even say the word. “You moved on, and I’m happy that you had someone, that you still have someone. I really am, Bellamy. The last thing I would ever want is for you to be miserable. You thought I was dead. I can’t blame you for finding happiness without me.”
“But I didn’t,” he whispers. “I—” he takes a deep breath, and steps in closer, so close they’re almost touching and then he reaches out and grabs her hand and they are touching, and this is really fucking unfair. She tries to pull away, but his grip tightens. “I’m not with Echo, not like that. We—we tried, but that was years ago. I was miserable. I was lonely and angry and down on myself, and she was about the same. But, it barely lasted three months. We were terrible together. I couldn’t stop comparing any and everything to you, to us, to this,” he says, gesturing between them. “Whatever the hell this was before we got separated.”
“So you broke up with her and what? You still thought I was dead.”
“Yeah, and I was ready to go the rest of my life trying to be happy other ways. There’s other types of companionship, Clarke. I figured I’d see my sister again, and Miller, Jackson. I’d have Raven and Monty and Harper. Even Murphy. I didn’t need—” he huffs.
She wipes at the tears on her cheeks, lets out a shaky laugh. “That’s so unrealistic.”
“Maybe, but, I figured out pretty quickly I don’t quite work right with anyone but you.”
“On the beach, six years ago...I didn’t let you say it. And I hate myself for that. That I didn’t get to hear you say it, and that I made you keep it to yourself. That was selfish. Six years went by and I had to imagine what it would sound like to hear you say those words, and now...do you even still? Will you—”
He tugs her into his arms, wrapping her up so tight there’s barely a breath between them. One hand cups the back of her head and his lips press against her ear.
“Always, Clarke,” Bellamy whispers. “I love you always.”
She melts into him, the stress and tension of trying to stay away finally lifting, and she kisses his neck, right in the crook her lips always seem to find when they hug. Lips traveling upward, she reaches his jaw and his cheek before veering toward his mouth. He catches her halfway, their lips finally meeting for the first time and it’s better than Clarke ever could have imagined. Hot and searing and sweet and just, Bellamy. It’s like finally finding home.
Their foreheads rest against each other when they break apart, and Clarke cups his cheek, thumbing at the scruff. It’s new and she’s very into it, mostly because she’s just very into Bellamy. “I love you too, Bellamy.”
His smile is the brightest she’s ever seen it. He noses at her cheek before moving back to her mouth. There are no more words. Their lips are too busy doing other things.
—-
Clarke never intended for their first time having sex to be in the medical cabin on a cot that’s really built more for just one person, but it’s practically midnight, the cabin is empty, and Madi is staying over at Octavia and Niylah’s for the night. When given the chance to finally be with Bellamy Blake in every way imaginable, she’s not passing that up for anything.
They’re practically on top of each other afterward, using every available inch the cot offers, and half covered with a scratchy blanket, but Clarke can’t remember the last time she was this happy.
“Can I ask you a question?” Bellamy’s voice is low and hoarse, and Clarke can feel the rumble of it from where their chests are pressed together. He’s got a hand tangled in her hair, and she nods against him. “Why did you think I was with Echo?”
She’s about to answer because of all the PDA, but then she really thinks about it, and realizes she never actually saw them kiss or hold hands or do any of the things that couples do. In the past few months since Bellamy’s been home, he’s shared private conversations with Echo or asked her opinion on strategy. He’s teased her or given her a playful shove, or passed her a breakfast bar, but never has Clarke ever seen him be anything other than friendly.
It hits her all at once that she saw in the two of them some of the things she used to see between herself and Bellamy, back when they were nothing more than partners leading their people. When she didn’t know she loved him and he probably didn’t either. When she thinks about it more, maybe he’s just always been tactile with everyone. She used to think it was their thing. A squeeze to the shoulder or the hand on a rough day. A hug so tight they practically became one person when reuniting after they were apart too long. Fingers softly brushing back messy hair.
Basically ever time he’s ever touched her ever.
He touches people like it costs nothing. Patting Miller on the back when they catch up. Ruffling Raven’s hair fondly when she figures out a way to save all of their asses. Shoving Murphy when he’s being an asshole.
All of them, his friends. And now, Clarke guesses, Echo too.
But none of them he’s ever touched the way he’s touching her now.
She groans, and turns her face into his neck. “It’s possible I misread some things,” she mumbles.
“You have always been kind of bad at this,” he teases, and she pinches his side. “Hey!”
She smirks, raising up on her hands to hover above him. She leans down and kisses him, arms practically collapsing a second later as their bodies come back together and they roll to their sides, facing each other, cramped cot be damned.
“Better?” she asks.
Bellamy nods, fingers running up and down her spine. “The best.”
Clarke hums. “So, I have a kid now,” she says, completely changing the subject, and Bellamy laughs.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
She swallows hard, nuzzles their noses together. “Deal breaker?” she asks quietly, because her whole life is different now than it was when he fell in love with her so many years ago.
He pulls back just a little, so she can see him clearly. “You know who you’re talking to, right?” And really it is silly to think that a child would be a deal breaker for Bellamy of all people. Bellamy, who raised his sister. Bellamy, who is probably the most loving and nurturing person she knows. Bellamy, who will make the best father anyone could ever ask for.
“Yeah, dumb question,” she says, leaning in to kiss him once more.
“Is Madi going to be okay with this? She’s had you all to herself for six years, and sometimes sharing is hard, especially when it’s a person.”
“She already loves you,” Clarke says. “She might tell you Octavia is her favorite, but whenever I would talk about you, her eyes would light up like she couldn’t believe you were this real, tangible person. I think she could always tell how much I loved you, and that made her love you too.”
Bellamy sighs, and tugs her closer against him. “Good. Because I plan on keeping you both.”
—-
Echo finds her a couple of days later in the communal dining building. They’ve got kitchens in their cabins, but sometimes it’s easier to grab a meal in the mess hall in between work shifts. Clarke is bleary eyed, half asleep and shoveling eggs in her mouth when Echo plops down across from her.
“You thought Bellamy and I were together?”
Clarke pauses, fork halfway to her mouth, and takes in the grounder across from her. Still fierce and deadly, but a little softer around the edges after her time in space.
“He told you?”
“For the last two weeks I’ve been harassing him about making a move, and he’s been apprehensive, saying something was off. But then this morning, I’m out walking the grounds, finishing a guard shift and what do I see but Bellamy sneaking out of your cabin.” Echo smirks, and Clarke feels her face flush. “So obviously I had to mess with him about it. And yeah, he came clean about the whole thing. Because we’re friends,” she emphasizes. “And I’m sorry if either one of us ever made you think otherwise. We tried once, but.”
“Yeah,” Clarke says. “He told me.”
“It was a disaster. He forgave me for my past, and we came to an understanding, but nowhere did we find any understanding in being together. His heart was already yours, Clarke. That was never going to change, whether you were alive or not. We could have stayed together in space for years, deluding ourselves, but the second he found out you were alive, it would have been over, whether he wanted to admit it or not.”
“He pretty much told me that, too.”
“Good.” Echo smiles, and then her eyes drift behind Clarke. “Speaking of,” she says, and Clarke feels his presence as Bellamy sets his own breakfast down on the table and takes a seat next to her.
“Hey,” he says tentatively, eyes darting between them.
Clarke rolls her own eyes, and bumps her shoulder against his. “Relax. We aren’t going to kill each other.”
“Well,” Echo says, sharp smile gracing her lips. “There was that one time.” And Clarke remembers all too clearly that day in Polis after defeating ALIE when Echo held a sword to her throat, and Bellamy looked like he was about to have a stroke. That look alone should have told her how he felt.
“Not funny,” Bellamy grumbles, tossing a piece of his biscuit at Echo. She dodges and pushes her chair back, standing up and backing away from the table.
“I need to sleep,” she says, eyes shifting back and forth between the two of them. “But I’m glad to see this finally happened.” She turns to Clarke, leans in, whispers. “He was unbearable on the ring.”
Echo takes her leave and Clarke chuckles. Bellamy drops his head to her shoulder and she reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, petting. “You missed me a lot, huh?”
Bellamy bands an arm around her waist, tucking her closer into his side and raises his head to kiss her temple. “I thought I left you to die, Clarke. I missed you more than I’ve ever missed anything, and I was completely prepared to always feel that way, but, here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“And we’re together.”
“We are.”
“And you love me,” he says, dopey grin plastered across his face.
“I love you,” she confirms, kissing him soundly. “Now eat your breakfast. I’ve got plans for you later.”
Bellamy leans in, lips brushing against her. “I don’t take orders from you,” he whispers, and Clarke laughs.
Even after six years, some things never change.