Chapter Text
Clarke knocked back another glass of whiskey like it was water, savouring the burn in her throat as it went down. She was sitting alone at the bar, drinking to forget the look on Bellamy’s face when she told them she thought they should break up.
Everything ached when she thought about Bellamy. She missed him. Missed him more than she had ever missed anyone in her life, except her father after he died. Bellamy was her other half and it had killed something inside her to break it off.
But it was for the best because Echo was right.
It had taken her and Bellamy years to get to where they had been. They hadn’t had the best first meeting, a meeting that had left a mark on their relationship for years. Whenever they were in the same room together it was inevitable they would start arguing about something. It had taken a long time for them to realize they actually had more in common than they had differences.
After that they had slowly developed their friendship until they’d become best friends. A team. Almost everything they did, they did together.
Getting together had been almost anti-climatic. There wasn’t a huge, dramatic confession or anything like that. Instead they had just been cuddling one night during a movie and all of a sudden they were kissing. It felt natural and easy, something no relationship had ever felt like for Clarke before.
After that, it felt like the most natural next step was to start dating. So they did. It had been almost nine months of bliss for Clarke. She loved dating Bellamy. She loved falling asleep next to him, waking up with him, and just being with him. She loved him, period.
Everything had been going great until she ran into Echo.
Echo was Bellamy’s ex-girlfriend and had always hated Clarke. She flew that Bellamy’s relationship with Clarke was just too close for comfort. She’d always gotten upset whenever Bellamy hung out with Clarke, which was often.
Bellamy had been annoyingly oblivious to the way Echo treated Clarke, the way she hated her.
Until one night at the bar.
Everyone except the three of them had already left and Bellamy had gotten up to get another round of drinks. As soon as he left, Echo had laid into Clarke. Telling her to back off her boyfriend and leave while she was at it, because no one wanted her there.
Clarke was in tears and had been about to get up when Bellamy appeared.
He had forgotten his wallet and when he came back for it, he’d heard the whole thing. Bellamy had broken up with Echo on the spot. Said he wasn’t going to be in a relationship with someone who treated people so cruelly, especially his closest friends. Echo hadn’t taken it well and Clarke had always dreaded ever bumping into the other woman— especially now that she and Bellamy were dating.
And then, the thing that Clarke had been so dreading had happened one morning when Clarke ducked into Starbucks to get a coffee on her way to work.
Clarke had almost turned around and left when she saw the brunette, but she didn’t have enough time to find another coffee shop and if she was going to get through the day at work, she needed caffeine.
When Echo noticed her, her face twisted into a scowl. Clarke immediately regretted not having gotten away, far away, when she had the chance.
But then Echo was walking over and Clarke had nowhere to go, she was trapped. She couldn’t leave, hadn’t gotten her drink yet and she’d already paid. No way was she leaving without the drink she had paid a ridiculous amount of money for.
So, she stayed and made small talk when Echo did, shifting nervously when she asked about Bellamy. The look on Echo’s face when Clarke told her that actually they were dating now confused her, Echo actually looked bewildered.
"Really?" She asked, her words dripping with shock. Then her face twisted into an expression Clarke guessed Echo thought was sympathetic. "Oh, honey. Enjoy your time with him because it’s not going to last very long."
Clarke hadn’t been able to reply right away, too shocked to speak. Echo didn’t mind, taking Clarke’s silence as permission to keep going.
"You’re not the kind of woman Bellamy Blake ends up with. I am," Echo said matter-of-factly, pausing briefly to take a sip of her coffee. "I know it’s hard to hear, honey, but it’s the truth. The only reason we didn’t last is because I guess he needed to sow his wild oats, or whatever it’s called, with you."
Clarke didn’t know how to respond. The cruelty of her words coupled with the confident way she spoke them struck a chord in Clarke. She stammered out a reply—she couldn’t even remember what she had said— and fled the shop as fast as she could, barely managing not to spill the hot cup of coffee in her hand.
On her way back to her apartment, Clarke called in sick to work. She must have really sounded shaken up because her normally obnoxious manager accepted her feeble excuse and ended the call with a soft, "feel better soon."
When she got back to her place, Clarke had curled up on her couch, shut off her phone, marathoned Harry Potter, and pretended she wasn’t crying.
It should have been easy to dismiss what Echo said; after all, Echo was an awful person and clearly still bitter about her breakup with Bellamy. Those who wouldn’t have lasted even if Bellamy hadn’t caught Echo being cruel to Clarke. Yet, she couldn’t help the way her chest tightened and the flood of insecurity and anxiety that followed. Echo’s words played over and over in her mind and soon irrational thoughts consumed her.
Maybe she wasn’t good enough for Bellamy.
Maybe she wasn’t the kind of person he was supposed to end up with.
Thoughts that, if she had been thinking clearly, she would have easily dismissed as ridiculous. But right now, every insecurity she had ever had about not being right for Bellamy, about not being good enough, flooded her mind and drowned out anything and everything resembling rational thought. It was all she could think about.
She broke up with Bellamy three days later.
It was easily the worst thing she had ever done in her life. In her mind, it had felt like the right thing to do but it still hurt so much.
Clarke’s heart ached when the image of the look on Bellamy’s face flashed through her mind. Shock, anger, distress, agony. Emotions she had never wanted to see directed at her, shining so brightly in is eyes. That look haunted her every time she closed her eyes to sleep.
Clarke gulped down half of the freshly filled glass of whiskey Lincoln had played in front of her and gave a satisfied hum.
"Enjoy that, C," Lincoln said, giving her a worried look. "I’m cutting you off after that."
Clarke just waved him off, swallowed the rest of her drink, and laid her head down on folded arms, making Lincoln look at her with renewed concern. Clarke really must be drunk if she didn’t put up a fuss at being cut off. It was something he very rarely had to do, that girl could handle her liquor.
It had been years since he had seen her this upset, this drunk. She hadn’t been like this since Lexa and even that hadn’t been this bad. A drunk Clarke was usually a loud Clarke and this Clarke was way too quiet. It was unnerving.
Lincoln took in the crumbled form of his best friend draped across the counter of his bar and made a decision. He pulled out his phone and only hesitated for a moment before pulling up his chat with Bellamy and thumbing out a message. He didn’t let himself think about whether or not this was a good idea. He knew that regardless of whatever those two were going through, Bellamy would always be there for Clarke. They may have broken up but Lincoln knew for a fact that neither of them actually wanted to be broken up.
No matter what shit went down between them, Bellamy would always come for Clarke, and visa versa.
Tell her to stay there. I’ll be there as soon as I can.
Lincoln let out a relieved sigh as he read his brother-in-law’s message and put his phone away, finally able to relax now that he knew someone was coming to look after Clarke. He would have done it himself but he was closing tonight and had a wife and baby to get home to.
He filled up a glass of water and placed it next to where Clarke’s head was resting.
"Drink this," He ordered softly. "Bellamy will be here to pull you up soon."
But Clarke didn’t reply, just mumbled something nonsensical and went back to dozing in the crook of her arms.
Lincoln had to go take care of another customer and walked away with a quiet word to Clarke, who just waved him off. He made his way to the other end of the bar and went back to serving customers, routinely glancing back at Clarke to make sure she was still doing okay.
Less than twenty minutes after he had sent the first text, Bellamy walked through the door, making an immediate beeline for Clarke. Lincoln sighed, the last of the tension bleeding from his shoulders. He nodded at Bellamy, who nodded back in thanks for looking after his girl.
With the knowledge that Clarke was now in good hands, Lincoln let himself get back to work.
Bellamy had felt his chest tighten the second Clarke was in his line of sight. He fucked missed her. More than he had ever missed anyone and seeing her right now was a little surreal. His heart simultaneously ached and raced, something he had only ever experienced with Clarke.
He walked up to her and gently shook her shoulder, not wanting to startle her more than he had to. "Clarke? Come on, I’m taking you home."
Clarke raised her head, looking at her with blurry eyes. "Linc?" She slurred. "Are we going home?"
"Yeah, Princess, we’re going home," Bellamy replied, deciding not to correct her assumption that it was Lincoln taking her home. With a drunk Clarke, it was always better to go along with as much as she was saying or doing as possible, it made taking care of her a much easier process.
Somewhere in the back of her alcohol soaked brain, Clarke knew that Lincoln was closing tonight and that the bar didn’t close for another few hours. This wasn’t him taking her home. Not to mention the fact that the man helping her out of the bar and Lincoln had widely different statures. The shoulders, movements, everything about the man currently helping her screamed familiarity but Clarke didn’t want to admit that she knew who it was. It hurt too much to think that she was finally back in Bellamy’s arms when she had no right to be.
Bellamy led Clarke outside the bar after he waved goodbye to Lincoln. He got her into the car with minimal difficulty and set off towards his apartment. He still had a key to Clarke’s but he wanted to have her close tonight; in case she needed him.
Too drunk to properly filter her words, Clarke started rambling to fill the silence of the car ride. Bellamy just let her talk, and without his voice to remind her who she was talking to, she forgot.
At first she just talked about work, unknowingly updating Bellamy on what things had been like for her these last couple of weeks.
But then she sighed, and started mumbled about Bellamy.
She talked about how she missed him, how he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and that she still loved him so very much.
When she paused to take a breath, Bellamy cleared his throat quietly and asked, almost hesitantly, "So, if you love him so much, why did you break up with him?"
"Because Echo was right!" Clarke exclaimed adamantly, sitting up from her slouch against the window. "I’m not good enough to be his girlfriend! I’m not the kind of person he should end up with. I mean, I think I would make a great wife and our kids would be so cute, but Echo was still probably right."
"Kids?" Bellamy asked, too shocked from everything she had just said to process it fully.
"Yup," Clarke giggled. "Bellamy would make such an amazing father. He’s always wanted to be one and he never said anything but you should see the way he looks at O’s baby. It’s totally obvious," She sighed. "He deserves someone he can have that with."
Bellamy was thrown, unable to find anything to say to anything she had just said. The rest of the ride home was silent. Clarke didn’t notice, drunkenly humming to herself and giggling periodically. If Bellamy hadn’t had so much on his mind from all this new information that had come to light, he would have found it adorable.
Soon enough though Bellamy was pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building and shutting off the engine. He climbed out of the car and got Clarke out as well, rolling his eyes fondly as her giggling continued.
With only slight difficulty, Bellamy got Clarke up the stairs and into his apartment. After they got inside, he coaxed her out of her sweater and shoes, leading her into the kitchen. Bellamy got her a large glass of water and stood there as he told her to drink all of it, knowing that if she didn’t drink the water after a night of drinking she got the worst hangovers.
Once the glass was finished, Bellamy led her into his bedroom and got a pair of sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts that he knew she liked. When they had still been together, every night she would grab a mix of his clothes to wear to bed, claiming they were comfier than her own.
Seeing her like that again, wearing his clothes, sent a sharp ache through his chest. He pushed it away as best he could, focusing instead on getting Clarke settled into bed. But it was difficult, trying to ignore the familiar sight of Clarke in his bed. He missed her so fucking much.
After he got her settled, Clarke fell asleep almost instantly. The room was left silent except for Clarke’s tiny snores and Bellamy’s soft breathing.
He sat on the bed, near her, hunched over for a moment, just trying to breathe. Sighing heavily, Bellamy scrubbed a hand over his face and got up, grabbing his own pair of sweatpants and changing quickly.
Bellamy lingered at the door for a moment, hand hovering over the light-switch. He was hesitant to leave her, worried that he’d wake up, on the couch with a kink in his neck, and find it had all been a dream. He would realize that she was still gone, that she had still left. That she wasn’t his anymore.
Shaking himself from his rapidly spiralling thoughts, Bellamy shut off the lights and closed the door gently, stopping by the closet in the hall on his way to the couch to grab a blanket and pillow.
Making his way to the couch, Bellamy made himself as comfortable as he was going to get. Closing his eyes, Bellamy tried to calm his racing mind and aching heart. It certainly wasn’t going to be easy to see Clarke leave in the morning but Bellamy was still glad he had gone to help her tonight. He would always go for Clarke; he was completely helpless when it came to her.
Bellamy fell asleep that night to Clarke’s drunken words swimming around in his head, creating the image of them together, married with a tiny baby: half him, half her. Just like she had described.
He dreamt of a life in which Clarke hadn’t walked away.
oOoOoOoOo
Clarke woke up early the next morning, the sun barely starting to filter through the window above the bed. It took her a minute to remember where she was but it all came back to her the moment his familiar scent flooded her senses. It was a scent she had dearly—desperately— missed.
Bellamy.
Blurry images of the night before flashed through her mind but she couldn’t quite piece everything together. What happened last night?
Clarke looked up as the door creaked open and Bellamy appeared, holding a steaming mug of coffee. He was dressed in sweatpants and a loose tank top with his hair still mussed from sleep. He must have slept on the couch. Yet he had never looked better. She took a moment to drink in the sight of him, a sight she had missed so fucking much. One she wished she had never given up.
"Hi," She croaked, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them. Bellamy had frozen in the doorway when he noticed she was awake— like he had been planning to leave the coffee there and not wake her up.
"Hey," Bellamy replied, barely more than a whisper. Clarke’s heart skipped at beat at the sound of his voice. "I, uh, made you some coffee and I put all of your stuff on the dresser over there." He said, nodding his head to the dresser on the other side of the room.
"Thanks," Clarke said, not knowing what else to say. Sitting up, she accepted the warm mug he offered her, taking a hearty sip and hoping it would quell her nerves. "So, um, what happened last night? The last thing I remember is drinking at Lincoln’s bar."
"Yeah," Bellamy started hesitantly. "You were there. He called me to come pick you up, he was worried about you."
"Oh," Clarke mumbled, looking down guiltily into her mug. She felt bad for not only getting drunk at Lincoln’s place of work but also for making him worry. He didn’t worry about her often anymore, she was doing well now. She must have been really bad then. "I’ll have to apologize to him. I didn’t mean to get so drunk."
"How come you were drinking so much?" Bellamy asked softly, even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer based off what she had told him last night.
Clarke sighed, deciding to just be honest with him. "I was sad."
Bellamy nodded. "Yeah, you said that last night." They were a quiet for a moment before Bellamy continued. “You also said some things that were very interesting.”
Clarke winced as he trailed off, wringing her hands together nervously. She was a talker while she was drunk so she wasn’t surprised she had apparently spilled her guts out last night. “Interesting how?”
Bellamy stared at her for a moment before, “Well, you said that Echo was the reason we broke up.”
Clarke flinched. “Yeah, uh, I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night. Lincoln shouldn’t have had to call you.”
“I don’t care about that, Clarke,” Bellamy said firmly. “All I care about is…is it true? Is Echo the reason we broke up? You said you ran into her and she said something about who I was supposed to end up with.”
Clarke sighed, reaching up to scrub at her face. “I…she got into my head. I ran into her while I was getting coffee before work and she just, she said that you were sowing your oats or whatever with me, that I wasn’t really the kind of girl you would end up with,” Clarke whispered, the hurt still raw in her heart. “I know that it’s ridiculous but I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. I know I should have just talked to you but I…I made a stupid decision, okay? I never should have broken up with you and I regret it every single fucking day.”
“Clarke,” Bellamy breathed, closing his eyes and bringing his hands up to rub his eyes in frustration. “Don’t I get to choose who I end up with? Why the hell would Echo be the person to listen to on what I deserve? Moreover, how could you ever think that you weren’t the love of my life. The one person I want to spend forever with? If you’re not the person I should end up with, then why was there a fucking ring for you in my bedside table?” Bellamy huffed out, voice cracking at the end of the last question.
Clarke choked on a sob. “I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, Bellamy. You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt and you’re the person I hurt the most. I’m sorry.”
“Just…please, tell me that you only ended it because Echo got into your head or whatever, not because you stopped loving me,” Bellamy begged, his voice barely more than a rasp at this point. “Because you’re it for me, Clarke. It’s always been you, even when I didn’t know it.”
“I could never, will never, stop loving you,” Clarke confessed, unable to stop the spark of hope in her chest that maybe she hadn’t destroyed things beyond repair. That maybe there was still a chance for them. “You’re it for me too.”
Clarke barely had a chance to finish her sentence before Bellamy’s lips were on hers. Kissing him felt like coming home. All the hurt and anguish that had been weighing her down since the moment she said it was over lifted and she could finally breathe again.
She moaned into his mouth, a desperate sound that he swallowed greedily.
When they parted they were both breathless and Bellamy’s hands had somehow made their way into her hair, tangling in her long locks.
“You had a ring for me?” Clarke asks, closing her eyes as Bellamy presses sweet kisses to her forehead and cheeks, unable to stop kissing her now that he’s allowed to again.
“I have a ring for you. It’s yours if you want it,” Bellamy said firmly yet there was a slightly nervous waver in his voice, like he still thought she might say no.
“Of course I want it, I’ve never wanted anything more,” She replied, unable to keep the tears from welling up at the thought of actually getting everything she had dreamed of, with the one person she had dreamed of it with.
The smile she got in response was bright and sweet, one of the best things she had ever seen.
Bellamy reached over to his bedside table and rifled through the drawer for a minute, retrieving a small, black velvet box. Opening it, he revealed the small, modest ring inside. It was simple yet perfect.
“Bellamy,” Clarke gasped. “It’s beautiful.”
With shaking fingers, Bellamy slipped the ring onto Clarke’s hand, smiling at the sight of it on her finger.
Clarke wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling brightly, and when Bellamy kissed her again, she tasted like joy.