Chapter Text
They meet in seventh grade after Bellamy is forced to transfer schools after one too many fights. He still stands by that it wasn’t his fault.
(Okay, maybe the fights were his fault, but they were ogling at Octavia!)
His first class of the day is Spanish. She’s already in her desk – far side of the room, front row, perfect view of the school’s garden – when Bellamy walks in the classroom. There’s something about her that makes Bellamy want to hate her at first glance. And so he does. There’s a seat open in the back, and he takes it quickly, thankful that he’s as far away from her as he can get.
It’s the middle of the first term, which makes it difficult to blend in. What makes it even harder is the teacher asking him to introduce himself in front of the class – both in English and Spanish. He hadn’t taken a day of Spanish in his life. His school couldn’t afford to offer extracurriculars like that.
She tries to introduce herself to him after class, following him down the hall and trying not to get hit by the lockers when the band geeks open them.
That’s something else that he’s going to have to get used to. Back at South Mecha, no one had lockers. There were a few reasons for it, but the main one is for safety. Kids can’t hide weapons if they don’t have lockers. At least, that’s what the administration says, not that the lack of lockers stops the students from bringing weapons to school.
She only catches him because there’s a traffic jam in the hall. The Ancient Egyptian class had tried to mummify a frozen chicken. They had dropped it coming back inside, and now there was a raw chicken sliding on the floor, not wanting to get caught.
“Hey! Bellamy, right? I’m Clarke. Which school did you come from?”
He cuts her eyes at her. There’s a blush on her cheeks from chasing after him, and her hair is braided, swinging past her mid-back. He doesn’t want to answer her, but his mom did teach him to have manners.
“Uh, South Mecha.”
“ Oh,”
She says it in that tone. The one that means she wasn’t expecting him to come from that school. South Mecha school. The one who’s budget is so low, they had to bus in sack lunches for the kids every day because they didn’t have enough money to fix the kitchen. The one who’s budget is so low, they only ever get first year teachers, but they leave as soon as they get a chance. The one where every kid Bellamy knows brings a gun or a knife or a something to school just in case they need to protect themselves. That tone. And Bellamy hates it.
He says nothing.
He can sense Clarke trying to backpedal, regretting her shock already.
“This must be a big shock to you then, yeah?”
Something snaps at him, and he tears his gaze away from the raw, frozen chicken sliding on the floor, “Why’s that, Princess ?” The bitterness in his voice shocks even himself, “Because South Mecha doesn’t have money?”
She’s shocked by his little outburst. He can see it on her face, but she pulls it back together fairly quickly.
“What? No, of course not. I just meant that we have so many more students. It must be hard coming from such a small school to one this size.”
Bellamy huffs, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
Finally, finally, someone catches the dead bird, and the hallway is once again moving along. He walks away from Clarke without looking back.
She tries to joke with him the rest of the year. Calling his name from across the room and pointing to a funny picture on the board that someone in the class before drew, or waving him over to the one desktop that the class has to watch a cringy video. Sometimes he ignores her, sometimes he humors her with a half smile, sometimes he laughs and he’s not entirely sure why.
The battle for top student in their one shared class. Because of it, the teacher continues to pair them up for group projects. They have to reenact the story of The Three Little Pigs, arguing over tenses and the correct translation of certain words. It costs them several long hours spent in the school library – which is three times the size as the library from South Mecha – for them to finally agree on the final product. In the end, the teacher loved it, they only had mispronounced one word, and they were tied for the highest average.
The second semester has them in different Spanish classes, and Bellamy tells himself he only misses her because no one else in the class is as far along as he is. They end up having the same break, so after third period, Bellamy always finds himself sitting on the wall in the courtyard with his energy drink. Clarke almost always shows up five minutes later with her snack that her dad packed her and a bottle of water.
“Those things are awful for your heart, Bellamy.” Clarke informs him every single day as she pulls herself up on the wall next to him.
And Bellamy ignores her every time, instead choosing to lean over to see what snacks she has. “Can I have the kiwi fruit?”
Clarke tosses it over to him without a word.
They don’t see much of each other in eighth grade. She’s in honors math, and he’s in honor english, which means they’re in two different rotations. But they still have the same break period.
It takes until the second nine weeks for her to walk over to where he’s always sitting on top of the brick wall, stradling it and watching the rest of his class mingle with ease.
“How’s Honors going?”
She surprises him. He chokes on his Flaming Hot Cheetos, and he coughs red dust everywhere.
When he finally stops, she’s smirking at him.
“Don’t sneak up on people, Princess.”
She rolls her eyes and lifts herself up on the wall next to him.
“Is Nate still falling asleep in every class?”
He cocks his head to the side, “Who?”
“Nathan Miller.”
Bellamy automatically finds him in the crowd. He’s talking with Murphy, a scowl on both their faces. “Yeah, he’s still sleeping. That punk.”
“Just wait, he’ll come out with the highest average and really piss you off.”
He glares at her, “No way. I’m coming out on top.”
She smiles, and it’s so soft that Bellamy wonders why he hated her when he first came here.
“So, the reason I came over here..”
He cocks a brow, waiting for her to continue.
“A group of us are all going to Homecoming together. It should be really fun. And, well, if not fun, entertaining since Murphy is coming.”
O made him buy a ticket, so he’s definitely already going. He puts another handful of cheetos in his mouth before answering. It wouldn’t hurt to go with people he can stand to be around.
There’s a beat and then, “Sure.”
She smiles, all excitement, “Okay! Great, I’m so glad you said you’ll come. We’re renting a limo and going out to eat at that new restaurant and then we’re having pictures done at the country club and…”
Bellamy’s head is reeling. At his old school, homecoming was not that big of a deal. They would never rent a limo for that. Not only would you be the laugh of the school, but no one would be able to afford it.
“Oh.” Bellamy breathes out, and Clarke stops rambling.
“What is it?”
“I won’t be able to go with you guys.” He doesn’t say why, but he knows Clarke will get it.
She opens her mouth, already having an argument on the tip of her tongue. But she snaps it closed and nods once. “Okay, that’s fine.”
He’s almost shocked when she accepts that. He stares at her as she smiles back at him and slides off the wall. “See you around, Bellamy Blake.”
He thinks that the end of that. He’ll go to homecoming, see Clarke dance with some friends, and then head home with Miller. It’ll be fine.
But then he’s tying the tie O picked out for him at Treasure Hunt (it has sea turtles on it and she’s obsessed), when there’s a knock on the door. His mom isn’t home, but he knows O will answer it. He figures it’s one of her friends, anyway.
He’s finishing up the tie when O peeks in his door, “Uh, there’s a girl at the door for you?”
He looks at her through the mirror, “Who?”
“I didn’t ask. She said y’all are going to homecoming together?”
He mentally goes through all the girls that it could possibly be, and he keeps landing on one. But it couldn’t be.
Somehow he’s not surprised, though.
“Alright. Let her in. I’m going to finish getting ready and then I’ll be down.”
Bellamy huffs out a laugh when he sees Clarke sitting on the couch eating flaming hot cheetos while in her homecoming dress.
“Careful there, Princess. You might stain your dress.”
She spins around at the sound of his voice, smiling. Bellamy really does laugh when he sees that her teeth are already stained with the cheeto dust.
“You might want to rinse your mouth out with water before we leave.”
She sits up straighter, “What? Why?”
Octavia is the one that says, “You have cheeto in your teeth, Clarke.”
At that, they’re all three laughing.
Bellamy leads Clarke to the kitchen and hands her a glass of water. She gargles and swashes it around in her mouth before spitting it out in the sink.
“Thanks. You could’ve just let me go to the dance like that.”
He shrugs, takes the cup from her and places it by the sink. “That would’ve been a cruel thing for a friend to do.”
She lights up at the word friend, but doesn’t say anything more.
They’re walking to the bus stop when he finally says, “I thought you were going with your group of friends.”
She shrugs, “Limos are overrated.”
“But witnessing Murphy make a fool of himself is not.”
“We’ll still get plenty of that at the dance.”
He shoots her a look, and her shoulders drop. “We’re friends, Bellamy. I didn’t want you to have to go by yourself just because you go to a school where everyone goes over the top.”
He lets that sink in while they walk. They’re almost to the bus stop when he asks, “How do you even know where I live?”
“Murphy.”
“The traitor.”
She laughs, and as they near the bus stop, Bellamy slides his hands into his pockets, keys in his fist. Just in case.
The keys stay in between his fingers while they’re on the bus. He only relaxes once they get to Clarke’s neighborhood and get off.
It’s Spring Break, and Bellamy takes Octavia to the library to check out books to read over the break (or, movies in O’s case). He’s not expecting to see anyone he knows there, but by this point he should know Clarke is full of surprises.
O is off by the video section, and Bellamy has a copy of Eragon in his hands, wondering if he’s going to read it a third time before the second book comes out in August. He’s still contemplating when he hears someone huff. He leans out of the aisle and sees a familiar head of blonde hair.
He puts the book back where he finds it, and quietly goes to the table where Clarke is sitting. He slides into the chair across from her quietly, and counts to thirty before he says, “Boo.”
She yelps and jumps in her chair. When she sees that it’s only him, she gives him a piercing glare. “Bellamy Blake, you can’t just sneak up on people like that!”
He rolls his eyes, “I was sitting here for nearly a minute before I even said anything. It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention.”
She puffs her cheeks out, and slowly blows the air out. “What are you doing here anyway?”
“What one normally does at the library. Checking out books.” He motions to all the notebook paper and books on the table, “What are you doing?”
“Studying for our placement tests.”
His eyes go wide, “Clarke, you can’t study for those. We don’t even know what’s going to be on them.”
She shrugs, and picks up her pencil. “My mom is going to kill me if I don’t get into Advanced Placement in high school. She was mad enough when I only got into honors maths this year.”
“I thought you could only get into one honors class this year?”
“Sometimes they make exceptions for the extremely gifted.”
“And your mom wanted you to be one of the exceptions?”
Clarke nods.
“Shit.”
He picks up the flashcards and mindlessly flips through them. “You could come over and I’ll help you study?”
She brightens up at that, “Really?”
“Really, really.”
Once Octavia picks out her three movies, and Bellamy finally decides that yes, he is going to reread Eragon, the three of them walk home together.
They make camp in Bellamy’s room. Her on his bed, all of her notes and books spread out around her, and him on the floor, his backpack being used as a pillow. He quizzes her on the notecards she already has made, all while she makes more notecards. She gets most of them correct, but it’s still not good enough for Clarke. Or rather, Clarke’s mom.
“You’re going to do fine, Clarke.”
Her hands are in her hair, and Bellamy half thinks she’s about to pull her hair out. “Placements are on Monday, as soon as we get back, Bellamy.”
“I know.”
“What if I don’t get into AP?”
“Most students who have honors do.”
“ Most not all. What if my English and History scores are so low, they don’t place me?”
“Impossible.”
He sits up and kneels by his bed. He watches her fret for a few seconds longer before reaching out and taking her hand in his. “Clarke.”
It takes a moment, but she finally looks at him.
“You’re top of our class. There’s no possible way you’re not going to get AP classes in high school.”
She lets out a breath and squeezes his hand.
“Thank you.” It comes out as a whisper, and Bellamy feels like there’s more to it than just helping her study.
“Anytime, Princess.” And he’s surprised by the fact that he means it.
His mom comes home to make them dinner, and winks at Bellamy when she sees Clarke on his bed. He tries not to roll his eyes at his mom. Clarke stays for dinner, and as they’re all cleaning up, his mom pulls him to the side.
“You need to walk her home whenever you guys finish up.”
He eyes her, as if he would just let her walk home by herself. “I know, Mom.”
She pats down his hair, “It’s just that the shootings are getting worse. Walk her all the way home, Bell. Not just to her bus stop.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She pats his hair again, “That’s my boy.”
After they clean up, Clarke packs up and Bellamy walks with her. His hand in his pocket. His fist around his keys. Always looking around for things that could be a weapon -- the broken beer bottle under the bushes, the rock off of the sidewalk, the fallen tree limb -- and sitting at the back of the bus so he can see who all gets on and off.
A few of his old school mates that are a few years above him get on the bus and eye Clarke. He spreads his legs apart, his knee touching Clarke’s, and his arm going around behind her. His silent message being heard loud and clear by his old peers, and Clarke being completely oblivious to it.
“You’re squishing me, Bellamy.”
He laughs, still not taking his eyes off the older boys, “Get over yourself, Princess. You have plenty of room.”
She huffs, “Sometimes I don’t know why I’m your friend.”
The boys get off at the next stop, and it’s only then that Bellamy retreats into his own space.
“Thank you, geez.”
Bellamy nudges his shoulder against hers, a silent apology, and breathes out in relief when she returns it.
A few stops later they get off. The walk through her neighborhood is quiet. He offers to carry her backpack for her, and she just laughs and says that she’s not as much of a princess as he thinks she is.
When they get to her house, he stands at the end of the driveway until she goes inside. And then he walks home, forgoing the bus completely.
The summer before they start high school, Octavia gets in a fight. It’s bad. She comes out of it with bruised knuckles and some scrapes. Her injuries aren’t the bad part. The kid she beat up had to go to the hospital. That’s not the bad part either. The bad part is that the kid was Dax’s cousin. Dax, the leader of one of the more dangerous gangs in his neighborhood.
“You can’t just go around punching people who piss you off, O!”
He’s standing in the bathroom doorway and watching as she cleans herself up. He can’t help but hate himself because she learned to do that by watching him.
“He was threatening Jasper, Bell.”
“So? Walk the hell away. Don’t get in a fight with Dax’s cousin!”
She dabs the white washcloth around her eye, staring at him through the mirror, “Like Dax is going to do anything. He hates his cousin almost as much as I hate him.”
Bellamy punches the doorframe. He doesn’t even process the pain shooting up his arm because of how mad he is at Octavia.
“O!”
She turns to face him then, “ What , Bellamy? You did the same thing when your life was in this neighborhood. The only reason you’re not getting in fights anymore is because you’re barely here!”
They’re both breathing heavy and glaring at each other. Octavia is the first to turn away, going back to the mirror and cleaning off the blood from her face and hands. Bellamy watches for a moment, and then turns on his heel and storms out of the house.
He doesn’t have an exact location in mind. He just knows he has to get away. He goes to the bus stop, stands underneath a tree for shade.
The bus stops in Clarke’s neighborhoods have benches and awnings. Bellamy’s neighborhood isn’t as lucky.
He doesn’t know when the next bus is supposed to come, but it’s summer. He has all day.
He thinks he hears the bus coming when he notices a familiar figure walking towards him.
“Blake, I heard you little sister decided to give my cousin what he had comin’.”
Bellamy stands up straighter, tries to look bored and indifferent. He feels like he looks more constipated than anything. Maybe Dax won’t notice.
“If he had it coming, why don’t you keep your cousin in line?”
Wrong thing to say, Blake, he thinks to himself.
Dax is in front of him now, towering over him with a scowl forever staining his face.
“What was that?”
Don’t look weak.
“I said,” Bellamy takes a breath, preparing himself for what he knows comes after, “you should try to keep your cousin in line.”
Looking back, Bellamy probably should’ve walked away, kept his mouth shut, anything but actually tell Dax he sucks at keeping his cousin in line. Because of that, he might deserve the punch in the jaw, but the knee to the gut was definitely not necessary
He walks down Miller’s driveway, hoping his dad isn’t home, and knocks on the door.
Miller answers.
“Damn, what happened to your face?”
Bellamy gives him a look, “Are you just going to stand there and roast me, or can I come in?”
Miller steps aside, and it isn’t until Bellamy takes a step in that Miller says, “Clarke and Murphy are here.”
Bellamy mentally groans, thinking of the bruise on his jaw that is surely showing it’s colors by now, and how he’s pretty sure there’s another on his stomach.
He stands a little straighter, tries to get the pain off his face, and walks in like everything in normal. And, everything is normal. For him, at least.
He doesn’t even make it five steps before Clarke sees him – and the bruise on his face – and runs to him.
“What the hell happened?” Her hands fly up, as if she wants to touch his face, but is scared she’ll hurt him. She slowly lowers them, and the movement is somehow gentle and soft. The look she’s giving him, not so much.
He gives her a smirk, “Would you believe me if I told you I fell down a flight of stairs?”
“ Bellamy.”
His smirk falls away with a sigh, “It’s fine, really. Octavia got into with some punk, and his older cousin decided to get even by punching my face.”
She huffs, flicks her hair over her shoulder, and walks away. He chances a glance at Miller, who shrugs.
“Don’t look at me, man.”
Bellamy shoves his shoulder, “You’re useless, you know?”
Miller laughs, “That’s what my third grade teacher told me.”
Bellamy chuckles, shakes his head, and then goes to the kitchen where he saw Clarke disappear. She’s sitting on one of the stools, stirring what looks like was once Lucky Charms. Now it just looks like a soggy mess. He slides onto the stool next to her.
“Unless you want to have a fight, leave me alone.”
“Why are we fighting?”
She glances at him, “You don’t like it when I call out Octavia.”
This time, it’s Bellamy who huffs. “Look, I know she’s a handful, but..”
“No, stop making excuses for her, Bellamy. She’s angry, and only getting angrier. Not to mention she keeps letting you take the consequences of her actions. You’ve got to stop that, Bellamy.”
He stays silent. It’s true, he knows it. But what Clarke doesn’t understand is that everyone in their neighborhood is angry. Their world doesn’t allow them to be anything but.
High school starts at a running pace, and it doesn’t show any sign of slowing down any time soon. Between AP classes, debate and basketball for Bellamy, and young politicians and volleyball for Clarke, they don’t have much time to see each other outside of study hall and weekly study sessions for Mr. Kane’s government class. Still, they find time.
Clarke goes to every game to support Bellamy. She tries to go to as many debate tournaments as she can, but those are harder to work her schedule around.
Bellamy sits with Jake during Clarke’s volleyball games, and cheers so loud his throat hurts when they make it to the finals of the district tournament. He stays far away from the young politicians; they make his head hurt.
Together (and with the help of some of their friends), they survive the first year. Bellamy spends less and less time at home, choosing instead to stay with either Miller or Murphy, and occasionally falling asleep on Clarke’s couch. Those nights were his favorites, and it only had a little to do with waking up to Jake making them waffles and omelets every morning. Sometimes on those mornings, Abby would have the day off, and she would give him a look that seemed like she saw something in him that he had yet to figure out. On those mornings, he couldn’t enjoy his breakfast or Clarke’s company nearly as much.
The summer between ninth and tenth grade, Murphy drags them all to a party. If Murphy had told them where the party was, Bellamy wouldn’t have gone along with it.
“So where is this thing anyway?” Miller asks as he follows the instructions Murphy gives him.
Bellamy, Clarke, and Harper are all in the backseat, and somehow Bellamy got bullied into sitting in the middle. He’s already ready to be at the party, and they only got in the car moments ago.
“South Mecha.”
Bellamy stiffins, and of course Clarke notices.
“You okay?”
“Fine.” Bellamy leans up, and sticks his head between Miller and Murphy. He’s going for nonchalant, but he knows he’s probably not succeeding in that. “Who’s party?”
“Oh, yeah,” Murphy says, half absent, “I forget that you’re from there. You probably know the guy. Dax, I think.”
Bellamy sits back, leans his head against the seat, and stares at the roof of Miller’s car. He feels his heart start to beat faster, and it almost feels like claws are digging into his chest.
Am I having a panic attack? He thinks he might be.
He tries to focus on anything else. Harper flicking Murphy’s ear. Clarke braiding her hair again for the fifth time. It has to look perfect says a voice in his head that sounds awfully lot like hers. But only one thing fills his mind.
Dax .
Everything goes to shit when he sees Octavia. Actually, he hears her first. Then he sees her.
“We’re back, bitches!”
Something shatters, then he sees her. She’s walking through the back door, Jasper and Monty in tow, her hair free and wild.
Jasper looks like he’s already drunk and Monty looks apprehensive and almost apologetic for being here.
Something in his chest crumbles.
“Bell!” Jasper spots him first.
Bellamy barely has time to blink before Jasper is hugging him, “Hello to you too, Jasper.”
“It’s been forever. Where the hell have you been?”
He spots Clarke, Harper, and Miller watching a game of beer pong. Clarke’s hair already pulled back because of the heat.
“Uh, I’ve been around.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
Monty finds them, gives Bellamy a sympathetic smile, “Hey, Bellamy.”
Bellamy finds himself genuinely smiling at Monty, and then glances around the room for his sister. He’s already lost sight of her.
“Gotta be honest, Monty, wasn’t expecting to see you guys here tonight.”
He shrugs, “Octavia has developed a taste for parties.”
Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about, Bellamy thinks.
“Look, I’m going to go find her. I’ll see you guys around.”
Jasper is spinning around, looking at all who’s there, and not listening to a thing Bellamy is saying. Classic.
Monty nods, “Just know she’s in a mood. Been trying to pick fights all night. Even went after Jasper for a hot second.”
Bellamy glances at Jasper, who has a dopey grin on his face.
“Good thing I don’t let her get to me like you do, huh?”
If Bellamy didn’t love Jasper, he’d punch Jasper.
It takes Bellamy longer to find O than he would’ve liked. He kept getting pulled into conversations with his old classmates, the ones that still talked to him anyway. When he finally makes it to the kitchen, Clarke is there taking a shot with Murphy. He sidles up between the two of them, “You guys are having fun, I see.”
Murphy grins, and something about it is feral like. Bellamy is suddenly glad that he spends most of his time on Murphy’s good side.
“Finally got this one to loosen up a little and have fun.”
Clarke frowns as she reaches for another shot, “I’m loads of fun all the time, aren’t I, Bell?”
Bellamy chuckles, pats both of his friends on the back, “Yeah, of course you are. I’m going to go find my sister. You two behave, yeah?”
Clarke rolls her eyes and Murphy gives him a mock solute. He supposes that’s as good as he’s going to get.
Thirty minutes later, he finds his sister. But it wasn’t soon enough, and soon as he spots her, time slows down.
Dax’s cousin is smiling at her, and Octavia is smiling back. But Bellamy knows that smile, and he knows that only trouble follows.
Bellamy watches as the boy makes a vulgar hand motion and throws a comment at Octavia’s face. Bellamy starts shoving people out of his way to get to his sister before he even comprehends what’s happening. He’s two steps away from her when she punches the boy in the face and launches herself on him.
When Bellamy sees she’s still smiling during it all, his skin goes cold.
He pulls her off as quickly as he can, and drags her away despite her kicking and screaming for him to put her down. He’s going to have a bruise on his shoulder from her pounding her fists against him. But if it means getting Octavia out of there before Dax gets to her, then it’s worth it.
He stops dragging her when they make it outside, and the look she gives him is pure rage and defiance.
Bellamy has barely gathered his thoughts when she rears back and punches him.
He takes a step back, shocked more over the fact that she just punched him than about the pain coursing through his face.
“What the hell, O?”
Her face is stone, void of all emotion, and Bellamy wonders when his sister became this person.
“What are you even doing here? Thought you were supposed to be with your rich friends.” Every word out of her mouth is clipped.
“I’m not having this argument with you again, Octavia.”
She opens her mouth to say something else, but the look he shoots her shuts her up.
He needs to find Clarke and the others, but he can’t take Octavia back inside. Either she’d get in another fight or Dax would find them both. But he also doesn’t trust her to stay outside by herself.
But then Monroe stumbles out on the porch. They had the same classes most of their lives, and out of all the people back at South Mecha, he probably trusts her the most. Even if she was drunk.
Monroe agrees to sit with Octavia while Bellamy goes and finds his friends. Murphy is still in the kitchen, and tells Bellamy that he’s staying behind and he’ll see them when school starts back. It takes him longer to find Clarke, but he does eventually.
She’s in the bathroom, curled up around the toilet, and Bellamy only feels a little guilty for being glad he’s just now finding her. He doesn’t want to deal with a vomiting Clarke on top of everything else tonight.
When she hears the door squeak open, she looks up.
“I don’t feel so good, Bell.”
He kneels beside her and brushes her hair out of her face, “Well let’s get you home, then.”
“My dad can’t see me like this.”
“You can stay with me. C’mon. I can’t carry you.”
She pokes his arms, “Pretty sure you could.”
He ignores that, and helps her stand up.
By some God-given miracle, they make it to Bellamy’s house. He leaves Clarke in the front room, sprawled out on the couch while he goes and doctors O’s hand. O is furious with him the whole time, refusing to look his way or acknowledge him. When he’s finished, she storms off to her room and slams the door. A framed photo – it was the two of them at the lake, Bellamy had O on his back and both of them were laughing – falls off the wall and cracks.
He picks it up as he walks passed and it nearly falls again when he walks into the front room to see it empty and Clarke-less. He places the cracked picture on the old, age worn coffee table. The front door is cracked open, and he knows he closed it when the three of them got to the house.
Bellamy walks out onto the front porch and lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Clarke standing there staring at a flickering street light. It’s one of the only ones on his street. Growing up, Bellamy hated it. It was at just the right angle where it would shine through his bedroom window. It would keep him up for hours. Him and his neighbors used to throw rocks at it, trying to hit the bulb. They never quite hit it, though. Now, he’s thankful for it. Where the rest of his neighborhood is dark, at least they have this small haven.
He goes to stand next to her and slides his hands into his pockets, “I thought you were going to stay on the couch.”
She glances at him, and she looks a little more sober than she had when he had to wrangle her and Octavia back home. “I wanted to see the lightning bugs.”
A snort escapes his mouth before he can hide it, “Not only is it the wrong time of the year for them, but it is also the wrong time of night. They’re long gone, Princess.”
Clarke crosses her arms and huffs out a sigh, but then she relaxes and leans her head against his shoulder, “Can I tell you something?”
“Anything.”
“You’re my favorite. Don’t tell Murphy.”
“Only if you don’t tell Miller that you’re mine.”
That seems to please her, and after a few more minutes of them staring at the flickering street light, Bellamy easily convinces her to go to bed.
Bellamy is going through his drawers trying to find some of his clothes that would fit Clarke while Clarke roams around his room. Not that there’s much space to roam around. The bed and dresser take up most of the room, and his bed isn’t even big.
“I haven’t been in here since homecoming,” Clarke mumbles.
Bellamy pulls out an old pair of basketball shorts and an old camp t-shirt, There’s been two more homecomings since that first one with Clarke, but he knows what she means.
“There’s really no point in coming to my place.”
He turns around and finds her sitting cross legged on his bed.
“Why’s that?”
He shrugs, “I live further out than everyone else. There’s no need for anyone to come here.”
Judging by the frown on Clarke’s face, his answer didn’t please her. “But this is you. It’s your home.”
Miller’s feels a lot more like home to me than this place, he thinks to himself. But he doesn’t say those words, it still feels like a betrayal to his mom and aunties and the people that raised him. Instead, he shrugs.
“It’s time for bed, Clarke. I’ll be out on the couch if you need anything.”
He tosses his clothes and they land in her lap; and before she can protest, he turns to leave.
Octavia is gone the next morning. He’s only slightly worried and a lot pissed. She could’ve at least left a note.
He angrily makes breakfast for him and Clarke. It’s nothing like the breakfasts they share when her dad cooks for them in the mornings, but it’ll do.
The coffee is finished and the eggs are well on their way when Clarke stumbles out of his bedroom. Her hair is a mess, he’s pretty sure there’s dried drool on her cheek, and her makeup from the night before makes her look distantly related to a raccoon. Still, there’s something about seeing her like that, dressed in his clothes, and coming out of his room that causes his body to react.
She’s your friend , asshole. Stop it.
“Making some eggs. Coffee’s finished.”
She blinks at him, looking as if he spoke a foreign language. She opens her mouth to respond, but stops and wrinkles her nose.
“Do you have a spare toothbrush?”
He waves the spatula towards the bathroom, “Look in the second drawer. There should be one in there.”
She nods and scurries off to the bathroom. By the time she comes out, the eggs are finished and Bellamy is halfway through his coffee.
“That’s so much better. Thanks for that.” She says as she slides onto the chair across from his. She shovels eggs in her mouth and groans, “These are delicious, Bellamy.”
He ducks his head and tries to hide his smile, “Yeah, you’re welcome.”
When they get their schedules for tenth grade, Bellamy only has archery with Harper and two classes with Murphy. Clarke has most of hers with Harper and her first round of electives with Miller.
“This year is going to suck,” Bellamy says once Clarke is the only one in his beat up SUV.
They had all gone together to get their schedules, talking on the way to the school how much fun this year was going to be now that half of them had their license, and how much fun classes were going to be together. Only to realize that most of their group was split up, and not even on the same rotation which meant they had difference lunches and off periods.
“It won’t be that bad.”
“I’m stuck with Murphy, Clarke.”
She laughs, “Okay, yeah, it might be that bad.”
But as it turns out, Clarke was determined for it to not be that bad.
Bellamy was sitting on the bleachers, running his fingers over the nock of his bow, when a familiar presence slides in next to him.
“How’s archery?”
“Shit, Clarke. What are you doing?” Bellamy stares at her, eyes wide and frantically looking at the coaches down on the floor.
“Oh, calm down. I’m supposed to be with Kane right now, like he’s going to care if I take an extra long bathroom break.” She raises up the wooden copy of the Declaration of Independence that Kane uses as a hallpass, “He’s probably not even going to notice I’m gone.”
“You’re going to get caught, and if you get grounded because of it, I’m not going to have any sympathy for you.”
“Oh, shove off. It’s been two weeks and I still hadn’t seen you.”
“We’ve gone longer.”
“I hate you.”
“Missed you, too.”
Eventually, Clarke leaving class and finding Bellamy in whatever class he’s in at the moment becomes a regular part of their lives.
Sometimes he wonders if it’s a part of Miller’s and Murphy’s and Harper’s. Something tells him it’s not. He only allows himself feel a little happy about that.
It’s the middle of September when Bellamy drives to Clarke’s on a Wednesday morning and says, “Let’s skip class today.”
Clarke takes one look at his bloodshot eyes and clenched jaw. That’s all it takes for her to agree.
They drive in silence for ten minutes. Bellamy is driving only a little more recklessly than normal, but it still has Clarke concerned. When they are about to get to the city’s park, she finally breaks the silence.
“Where are we going?”
Bellamy looks at her, too many emotions flashing across his face for her to decipher, and sighs. “You get one question. Are you sure that’s the one you want to ask?”
Clarke bites her lip. He wishes that he was able to know what she was thinking right now.
“What happened?”
“Octavia got in another fight. Some girl in her history class. I don’t even know how it happened, but Mom was a mess over it last night. Apparently she got kicked out, which I’m a little peeved about. Every year is supposed to be a fresh start? That’s what they tell us over at South Mecha. But that’s not true because this was her first fight of the year, and they kicked her out and brought up all of her other fights and disruptions from last year.” He starts drumming his fingers on the driving wheel, “I mean, yeah she told the principal to fuck off, but that’s at most a several day suspension, not grounds to get expelled.”
Clarke twists around to face him. She doesn’t know what to say. Words can’t make this better. She reaches out and rests her hand on his arm.
He glances at her, lets out a breath that was caught in his cheeks. “Mom asked if she could transfer to our school, but they’re hesitant because of her record. How is it that they’ll accept me and not her?”
“You were younger, Bellamy.”
Jerkily, he parks in one of the spots at the train station downtown. “I’m supposed to be able to fix this, and I can’t.”
“You’re her older brother, not a miracle worker.”
“There’s not a difference where I come from.”
“What are y’all going to do?”
Bellamy hesitates, and hates himself a little when he smirks. “You were only allowed one question.” He pauses, but not long enough for her to argue. “Mom is thinking about sending her up north to stay with Gran.”
Gran wasn’t his grandmother. Bellamy didn’t have any. His dad’s parents died far before he was born, and his mom’s parents were out of the picture. Gran was Octavia’s dad’s mother, but she was one of the best people in Bellamy’s life. She didn’t treat him differently. In her eyes, he was just as much her grandson as Octavia was her granddaughter. Unfortunately, she lived four and a half hours away. He didn’t get many chances to see her outside of Christmas and the rare Thanksgiving.
Clarke starts fiddling with the radio dial, and he knows she’s thinking things over. When the dial falls off, she grimaces and twists it back on.
“That’ll be good, right?”
He shrugs, turns the engine off, and gets out of the car. He makes sure Clarke is following him before he crosses the street. They go around the block in silence, and when the coffee shop appears in their view, Clarke hums happily, making Bellamy smile.
In line, he eyes the banana bread, but decides against it. Money is tight, and it’s going to be even tighter if his mom really is about to ship Octavia off. He orders a latte, a small because he’s already anxious and if he drinks more than that it’ll just make it worse, with three sugars.
Clarke orders after him, and he’s only a little envious when she orders a slice of banana bread for herself. Once they get their coffees, they walk back towards his car to the park. There, they sit in the grass. Bellamy quietly drinks his coffee while Clarke busies herself buttering her banana bread. He watches as she finishes and breaks it in half, handing him the bigger of the two.
“Clarke…”
“Just take it. I saw you eyeing it, so don’t even say you don’t want it.”
He wants to argue with her, but he’s too tired.
He takes it, and his mouth waters when he smells it. “Thanks.”
She takes a bite of her own, and falls back into the grass.
Bellamy watches her, and something in his stomach swoops low and dangerous. He looks away.
“I’m supposed to protect her. She’s my little sister, my responsibility.”
Clarke takes another bite of her banana bread and turns her head so she can look at him. “Are you going to listen to me if I contradict you right now?”
He huffs out a laugh, “Probably not.”
She sits up, scoots closer to him, and rests her head on his shoulder.
“Bellamy, listen to me. You didn’t fail her. You’ve been there for her for as long as I’ve known you.”
“You’ve only known me for four years, which leaves plenty of time for me to have failed her.”
“Shut up and listen when I’m trying to comfort you.”
This time, his laugh sounds a little more genuine.
“You are probably one of the most constant people in her life. But you’re not her parent, Bellamy. You’re just a brother. Brothers are allowed some slack every now and then.”
He stays quiet, not knowing exactly what to say to that. Instead, he leans back and lets the soft grass catch the two of them. Feeling Clarke beside him keeps him grounded, keeps him from floating away with all the What If’s that are clouding his mind.
They have a farewell for Octavia that Friday. It’s a small group of people. Monty and Jasper are there, of course, along with Monroe and Atom. Miller, Harper, and Murphy come, too. When Bellamy sees them walk through the house to the backyard where he’s grilling hamburgers, he thanks the stars that he has the friends that he does.
Of course, Clarke comes too. But she’s barely left his side since Wednesday. He wants to tell her it’s not that big of a deal, but at the same time he’s filled with misplaced guilt. Whenever Clarke sees it passing over his features, she places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and suddenly it seems a little more bearable.
In the end, Octavia marches up to the two of them. It’s the first time she’s even looked in Bellamy’s direction all week. Even now, she’s not looking at him, but at Clarke.
“Keep an eye out for my brother, will ya?”
I’m right here, O. Look at me.
“I always do.”
Look at me. This isn’t my fault. Look at me. I’m sorry. See me. Look, look, look…
She nods and walks back towards Jasper.
Bellamy drives Octavia to Gran’s the next morning. If it wasn’t for the music, it would have been an unbearably silent trip.
When they get to the house, O storms out of the car, past Gran, and into the house.
Bellamy looks at Gran. She’s short, with a slight hunch back and long white hair braided away from her face. If he looks hard enough, he can see pieces of Octavia on her face, in her mannerisms. An apology is at the tip of his tongue, when she shushes him.
“Don’t you dare, boy. You haven’t a thing to apologize for.” She pulls him in for a tight hug, and pats his back reassuringly. “Why don’t you come in and have a bite to eat? I know the drive is a miserable one.”
Bellamy smiled down at her, “I wish I could, Gran. But I gotta get home to finish a paper.”
She humphs, not pleased with his answer. “There’s more to life than school, boy.”
His smile only widens, “I know, Gran.”
Then she smiles mischievously, “Good thing I know you.” She lifts up a brown bag. “Packed you a lunch. A sandwich, with some of that homemade country ham you like so much, some fruit, celery and peanut butter, freshly made zucchini bread — don’t you dare make that face, it’s delicious — and some chocolate chip cookies. Do you need a drink? I can go fetch one real quick.”
He takes the bag from her, “No, that’s fine. I have water in the car.”
“Alright, well come here, boy.” She goes up on her tiptoes to give him another hug, and then she’s shoving him towards the car. “Go on and get home, now. I want you to call me when you get back and when you get the grade back for your paper. And don’t worry about that sister of yours. I’ll keep her on track.”
“Yes ma’am,” Bellamy chuckles.
He forces himself not to look in the rearview mirror as he leaves.
The first time Bellamy climbs through Clarke’s window, is on her sixteenth birthday. The second, is after Clarke watches a horror movie for the first time. She’s scared, but doesn’t want to admit it to her mom. Naturally, she calls Bellamy, and he comes over without a second thought. After that, it just becomes a common occurrence.
In May, a week before finals, Bellamy gets caught.
Clarke was freaking out about Mr. Kane’s final so Bellamy came over to help her study, and the two of them fell asleep on her floor. The next morning, he made his way down to the kitchen, only realizing too late what he was doing when he saw Jake making blueberry waffles.
Without looking up, Jake tosses a key over his shoulder to Bellamy, “Use the door next time. It’s easier.”
Bellamy sputters, but Jake saves him.
“You’re not nearly as stealthy as you think you are, Bellamy. Just be glad I know you won’t hurt Clarke.” Jake gives him a smile, and then motions for him to sit at the bar. He pushes three pancakes his way, “Better eat up before Clarke comes down. She’d eat all of these if we’re not careful.”
Clarke makes her way down right as Bellamy is finishing his pancakes. As soon as she sees him, she freezes.
“Shit.”
“Don’t worry. Bellamy is going to use the door from now on.” Jake makes a point of looking at the key that’s besides Bellamy’s plate.
“You’re not mad?”
“A little, but we’ll talk later.” Still, he gives his daughter a soft smile. Bellamy’s heart lurches, finding an ache he thought had long ago healed.
After that, it was like a dam broke. Bellamy was over more often than not, even when Clarke wasn’t there. He’d find himself on the couch with Jake, watching basketball or the latest episode of Heroes . Jake would go out to the driveway and give Bellamy pointers in basketball.
“Are you crushing on my dad?” Clarke asked one night after the three of them had gone out for ice cream.
She was hanging upside down on her bed, and he was sprawled out on her floor trying to read Eldest again before Brisingr comes out in a few months.
He looks up from the book and stares at her. “What.”
She shrugs, or tries to, “The two of you have been spending a lot of time together is all.”
He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes, “Uh, I do not have a crush on your dad. It’s just nice to hang out with another guy, I guess.”
She doesn’t point out that Bellamy has other guys. He has Miller and Murphy, even Jasper and Monty since O left. But she doesn’t mention it, just smiles at him and calls him a nerd for reading a book about dragons.
Bellamy is really, really lucky to have her as his best friend.
“You know you’re my best friend, right?”
She falls off the bed and rolls closer to him, “Yeah, I know.”
When he sticks his tongue out at her, she pokes his nose. “You’re mine, too.”
That summer, Bellamy gets a job at the cafe that Monty’s parents own, much to Clarke’s chagrin.
“I’m bored, Bell.”
He’s standing at the register, watching her with an amused expression, while he counts the till. “I’m being trained to close tonight, Clarke. Can’t really help you on that front tonight. Why don’t you do something with Harper?”
She huffs out a breath, and yeah, Bellamy is aware of how cute she is right now.
“She’s in Tennessee visiting her grandparents until the Fourth.” She pulls a strand of hair almost angrily and winces, “And don’t even mention Murphy and Miller. They’re idiots.”
“They’re our best friends.”
“No. We’re each other’s best friends. They’re idiots.”
“What did they do now?”
“Murphy peed on my cactus.”
“Because of course he did.”
“What are you doing tomorrow? I was thinking we could go kayaking on the river. Dad has two, so we wouldn’t have to rent them and–” She looks at him, and the look he is giving her is all she needs to know, “You’re working tomorrow aren’t you?”
“Sorry, Princess. Lawn care alone isn’t cutting it. I have a few more payments to make on the piece of shit truck—”
“That truck gets us where we need to be. Don’t hate on it.”
“—and then start putting aside some for college.”
“You’re going to get scholarships, though.” Clarke waves off his concern, “It’s going to be fine.”
“ Clarke.” It comes out harsher than he intended.
“What?! I just want to spend time this summer with my friend! Is that really too much to ask?” She deflates a little at the last part, and something in him softens.
“Of course not, Clarke. But I need this job. I can’t just ask off or only work the minimum hours.” He runs his hands through his hair and lets out a sigh, “But I’m off on Sunday. We can do something then, yeah?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Until then, go force Murphy to buy you a new cactus.”
That summer, Clarke meets Finn Collins. Bellamy puts about sixty percent of the blame on himself, the rest he puts on Wells Jaha, Clarke’s other best friend.
“Wells is coming this weekend!”
Bellamy looks up from the half and half he’s steaming. He hates steaming half and half. “Who?”
“Wells.” She’s says it so flippantly, like yeah he should definitely know who that is. “He used to be my neighbor until his dad ran for Representative and then Senate. They moved about six years ago? Maybe? I don’t know. It was a few years before I met you.”
He pulls the pitcher down, expanding the milk. This is the part he hates. It always starts to smell like cheese.
“Wait, is this the friend you didn’t talk to for six months because you thought he betrayed you?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do? Or not do, actually.”
“I thought he told the girl I had a crush on that I liked her.”
“And?”
“It was actually my mom who let it slip.”
“I feel like I need more info on that one.”
She throws a sugar packet at him, and it hits him right between the eyes, “Shut up.”
He mocks being offended and says, “Be nice to me. I’m making you free coffee.”
Wells arrives the next day with Finn Collins in tow.
Bellamy doesn’t hate him on sight, but it’s damn near close.
“I hate him.” Bellamy declares when it’s just him and Miller later that night.
Miller gives him an impressive side eye.
“Don’t look at me like that. Why are you even taking his side?”
At that, Miller balks. “I am not taking his side. Mostly because there are no sides to take, asshole. But also, you just don’t like him because he was flirting with Clarke.”
Bellamy sputters, “W-what? That asshole can flirt with Clarke if he wants. I don’t care.”
“Then why do you hate him?”
“His hair.”
“And Clarke likes his hair.”
“You wanna know what I like? You shutting up.”
Clarke Griffin created a new group chat
Clarke Griffin renamed the new group chat My Boys (and Harper)
Clarke: Wells wants to go to the lake. Who’s up for some tubing?
Murphy: Count me in.
Harper : Sure
Bellamy : no.
Mi ller: I’m coming, and I have Bellamy.
Wells: Is Bellamy always this grumpy?
Mu rphy: yes
Miller: yes
Harper: yes
Clarke: sometimes
Bellamy: i’m not grumpy.
Clarke Griffin loved ‘i’m not grumpy’
Finn: is this happening now?
Wells: yes
Finn: dunno if i can make it
Clarke: You have to come!
Finn: fine youve convinced me. I’ll be there :)
Bellamy disliked ‘You have to come!’
New Message
From Clarke Griffin: why
Bellamy: ???
Clarke: Finn. you’re being mean
Bellamy: his hair offends me
Clarke: shut up. You have great hair too
Bellamy: mine is better
Clarke: no comment
Bellamy: !?!?
Clarke: just dont let murphy cut it agian
Finn asks Clarke on a date the next day. Bellamy is grumpy and miserable for the entire week, and he’s only a little ashamed over giving Clarke the cold shoulder. Not that she noticed. She was too busy sucking face with Pretty Boy.
“Stop glaring.” Miller mumbles from his seat at the bar.
Bellamy is working. It’s slow because it’s a million degrees outside and no one wants to leave the air conditioning to drive to a coffee shop. Thankfully his friends were bored enough to come see him. He’s currently less thankful that Clarke dragged Finn along with them.
“I’m not glaring.”
Miller snaps a photo of Bellamy and turns the phone around to show him, “Looks like you’re glaring to me.”
“Shut up and delete that picture.”
“Nah, I’m posting it now.”
Miller taps on his phone for a few seconds, and then Bellamy’s own phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out to see the photo of him with the caption Who thinks Bellamy’s face will freeze like this? Like for no, comment for yes.
“Have I told you that I hate you?”
“Not recently, but it’s past due.”
Clarke and Finn go on dates one after the other all throughout the sumer. As much as it annoyed Bellamy to have Clarke sitting at the counter of his work whining about not having anyone to hang out with because all of their friends have lives or work, he missed it. Even when he had days off, Clarke was busy with Finn.
It was only when the entire group of friends got together that he would see her, and then she was so busy catching up with everyone, not just him, that it didn't really feel like quality time with his best friend.
"All I'm saying is," Bellamy huffs out, "Is that they're spending too much time together."
"She's spending the same amount of time with him as she did with you before he was in the picture."
Miller, Bellamy decides, is his least helpful friend.
Bellamy has the next afternoon off, so he spends it watching the History Channel with Jake. He doesn’t know where Clarke is, but if he had to guess it would be with Finn.
They’re in the middle of a JFK documentary when Clarke comes in, slamming the door shut behind her.
When Bellamy looks up, she looks more pissed than he’s seen her in a while.
Both him and Jake watch as she stomps up the stairs to her bedroom.
After a second of confused silence, Jake pats his leg. “I’m tapping you in.”
He looks at him, “Huh?”
“She’s your friend. Go talk to her.”
Bellamy wants to argue that daughter trumps friend, but Jake gets up and locks himself in his office. He takes a deep breath and then heads up the stairs. Her bedroom door is cracked open, so he nudges it with his toe and watches as she angrily throws pieces of paper in her trash can.
“What did the paper ever do to you?”
She looks up at the sound of his voice, and gives him a small smile, “Nothing. But it’s therapeutic.”
He walks the rest of the way in and sits on the edge of her bed, “What did lover boy do?”
Clarke turns away from him then, throws a few more pieces in the trash can before turning back around and facing Bellamy.
“Apparently there’s another girl he’s seeing back where he lives. They were on a break or whatever, but now the girl wants to get back together.”
Bellamy sucks in a breath, “So he ended with you?”
She nods, “Yeah, basically. Which, he was only a bit of summer fun, ya know? But it still sucks.”
Bellamy hasn’t really had time for dating between school and his two jobs, so he didn’t know. But he can imagine.
“Would ice cream make it suck less? Wells texted me that him and the others are going to grab ice cream and then have a bonfire by the lake.”
“Will Finn be there?”
He shrugs, “Don’t know. But we can uninvite him if he is.”
Clarke laughs, “That would be rude.”
“And breaking up with you wasn’t?”
She throws a pillow at him and laughs even harder.
A few seconds later, he gets a text.
Jake: This is why I sent you up there.
The group still didn’t have a lot of the same classes together, but they at least had lunch together this year. Towards the end of August, the hurricane was all anyone in their group wanted to talk about once they were together for lunch.
“Do you think they’re going to cancel school?” Harper is sitting next Miller, picking grapes off of his lunch tray while he eats his and Murphy’s fries.
Murphy looks up from the salad he’s stabbing to death, “If it’s going to be as bad as they say, yeah.”
Clarke brought her own lunch, thanks to her dad, and Bellamy and her spend the first part of lunch swapping their lunches. Bellamy takes the apple juice and the hot cheetos, Clarke takes the oatmeal cookie and the nachos from his tray. Bellamy pokes the homemade lasagna she brought, until he finally decides he wants and eats half of it in one bite.
“My dad says it’s going to be really bad. He’s already stocking up on water and food.” Clarke says as she offers Bellamy an apple slice.
“It’s probably going to be like every hurricane we’ve had before. The coast gets a beating, but by the time it gets to us, it’ll die out.” Bellamy huffs out with an eye roll, “It’s not even a hurricane yet. It’s still a tropical storm and it’s supposed to make landfall in the next few days.”
“Yeah, but it’s moving slower than they thought it would. It could still be next week before it hits.”
“And the slower it takes the stronger it’ll be.”
Bellamy looks around the table and sighs. Every year the weather people make a big deal about a hurricane headed their way, and every year he watches his people get sandbags and board up their windows and buy bread and water with the last of their paychecks or credit cards. Hurricanes dig up something old and ugly in him, not because he’s experienced a bad one or because he’s scared, but because he has to watch the hurricanes turn his neighborhood’s lives upside down even if they end up being nothing more than a light thunderstorm.
“I guess we’re going to find out eventually,” He concedes and takes a crunching bite of the apple Clarke had given him.
A week passes, and the monster of a storm still refused to make landfall. It sits on the edge of the coast, releases more rain than Bellamy ever remembers seeing. Streets are already flooding, and the worst of it isn’t even here yet.
He’s at basketball practice when the lights flicker, and moments later Clarke is running through the gym doors with her backpack flying behind her.
“The intercoms aren’t working, but they’re letting us go home. It’s making landfall.” She’s out of breath, and Bellamy thinks she ran all the way from the library on the other side of the school where the young politicians meet every Thursday afternoon.
Bellamy catches the ball that a teammate threw at him, and looks at his coach.
“Alright, team, get out of here and be safe. We’ll probably have tomorrow off school, but I’ll see you all for Monday practice.”
Bellamy lets the ball fall to his feet and roll away, and walks over to Clarke.
“You need a ride a home?”
“Yeah, Dad isn’t answering his phone and Mom’s at work.”
He nods, grabs his bags from the bleachers, and walks out to the parking lot with Clarke. Bellamy is shocked to see that it’s so dark already. It’s only four, but it looks like it should be closer to midnight with the dark clouds blocking out the sun.
“Wanna grab some food on the way home?”
Clarke nods, “Might as well. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck at home while this thing moves over us.”
They stop at the diner that Vera Kane owns on the way to Clarke’s. They both order cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake. They’re waiting on the milkshakes when the first sirens go off.
Bellamy looks around, “What are those?”
“Tornado warnings. You don’t have them?”
Bellamy shakes his head, but it’s more of a jerk than anything. His neighborhood has them, but they're currently out of service, and no one has heard them in years.
“We might’ve should’ve gone straight home.”
Finally Vera comes to the counter with their milkshakes, “Here you kids go. Now get home before the weather gets worse. The first few bands are already here.”
They both mumble a yes ma’am, and then Bellamy is ushering Clarke back outside to his truck.
The drive to Clarke’s place is longer than usual, the rain and wind making it difficult to see the road. People have pulled over to the side of the road with their flashers on, but Bellamy can’t bring himself to do that. He just wants to get home.
When he pulls into Clarke’s driveway, Jake is sitting on the front porch waiting for them. He jogs up to the truck before Bellamy can turn it off.
“Go ahead and park your truck in the garage, Bellamy. Abby has to wait out the storm at the hospital, and your mom is working night shift and wants you to stay with us in case it gets bad.”
Bellamy doesn’t argue, just does as he’s told.
The storm comes late in the night while most of the people are sleeping. Bellamy is sleeping through it all on the palet he made on Clarke’s floor. He’s oblivious to the howling wind, the creaking houses, water rushing into his town, and the trees bending and snapping in two all around him.
He’s oblivious to it all until Clarke nudges him with her foot and motions him to follow. They end up on her screened in back porch, the wind sending shivers up and down their arms.
“I haven’t heard a storm sound like this in a long time.” She eventually whispers.
Bellamy nods, but all he can think is that he’s glad Octavia is further up north.
“What time did it land?”
She shrugs and leans further into his side, “Dunno, but a tree falling woke me up two hours ago.”
Bellamy wishes he could see out to her backyard, but the rain was so heavy, he could barely see five feet out.
Somehow they both fall asleep outside, and the next thing they know is Jake waking them up.
“Morning, sleepy heads. No hot breakfast today. Powers out.”
Bellamy stretches, and he thinks he’s too young for his bones to be popping, but they do anyway. Outside the wind is still angry and howling, but the sun is peeking around the clouds.
“Is it over?”
“Not by a long shot. The eye is over us right now. It’s still moving dangerously slow, but that means we have some time to kill before it starts raining on us again.” Jake slides his hands in his raincoat’s pockets. “You two want to join me? I was going to walk to the lake.”
They decide to walk with him, like Jake said, the power was out. It wasn’t like they could have done anything else other than sit and wait. The wind is still strong, and after a while Clarke makes a game out of trying to fall down into the wind. The wind is so strong and consistent, it holds her up.
They’re at a lake, when a branch breaks off one of the pine trees, and the wind decides to use it to try to take Bellamy out. Thankfully he sees it and is able to duck out of the way just in time. It did scratch up his face, though.
Just the first half of the storm had dropped enough water on them that the pier is already under water, but just by a few inches.
Clarke almost immediately runs out to it shouting, “Look, guys! I’m walking on water!”
They all laugh, and then Bellamy goes out to join her, and Jake takes pictures of the two of them having too much fun during a hurricane.
They don’t stay at the lake long. There’s no way for them to know when the weather will get bad again, so Jake leads the little party of three home after a few minutes.
The storm lasts all the rest of the day, and part of the night. No trees landed on the Griffin’s house, but branches scraped up the roof, and the wind had caused some of the shingles to fly off. Jake guesses there’s probably going to be leaks they need to have fixed sooner rather than later. The yard is covered in leaves and twigs and an occasional tree limb.
They all thought that was the worst of it until they look down the street. Both ways are blocked by old, giant pines lying on their sides.
Bellamy hears Jake sigh, “Looks like you’ll be staying with us for a few more nights, Blake.”
It takes them all working with the neighbors, but by late evening, they have the main road cleared so that people could come and go.
Abby comes home that night, and hugs Jake and Clarke so tight, Bellamy feels like he’s intruding, but then she comes and hugs him, too, so maybe he isn’t.
He stays with the Griffins again that night. Cell towers are still down, so he can’t get in touch with his mom, and Abby had said that it was awful out there. Buildings were gone, roads were washed away, and you never knew which road was going to be blocked off because of fallen power lines or trees.
He just hopes his house and neighborhood faired better than the ones Abby was describing.
That night, Clarke and him sit on the back porch, and he listens as she strums her guitar and plays whatever songs come to her mind. Lightning bugs come out, and a breeze comes to give them a little relief from the humidity. It’s a good night, Bellamy can almost forget the destruction around them.
Jake had bought one small generator, so they all pile into the living room and sleep on top of sleeping bags while one fan tries to keep them cool in the southern August heat. It helps, but it’s still hot and sticky, and it takes Bellamy a while to fall asleep.
The next few days are more or less the same. More people are starting to come out. And while there’s very few people driving around – gas is precious during times like these, and no one wants to waste it just to look around – there are quite a few families and groups walking around. Abby and Jake make a point to bring a wagon with them as they walk and fill it with food and water, just in case they come across someone who doesn’t have enough.
The lake fills with people. With no power and no running water, people stay in the water where it’s cool and hopefully helps they’re odor. It doesn’t help much.
Cell towers finally come back, and while the service is still spotty, Bellamy finally calls his mom.
“I haven’t been home, but people say the looting is really bad. You should probably just stay with the Griffins until everything is under control.”
Clarke is leaning in close, so she can hear both sides of the conversation. Bellamy looks at her when his mom says that, silently asking if that would be okay. She makes a face that translates loosely to he’s an idiot for even having to ask.
“Yeah, that should be fine. You doing okay?”
“I’m fine, Bell. The hotel is full, but we had some spare rollaways, so I snatched one up before anyone else could take it. We have plenty of food too, so we should be fine until the town gets back up and running again.” She pauses and then asks, “Do you guys have power?”
Bellamy snorts, “I’m pretty sure no one in the state has power or water, Ma.”
Aurora laughs, “Good point. Well, turn your phone off so you don’t waste battery. Call if you need anything.”
What happens next, happens so quickly, Bellamy wonders if time suddenly sped up, only for it to go excruciatingly slow the next moment.
It’s seven in the evening, the sun is still shining, and Bellamy is in the office reading a book he found on Jake’s shelves when the constant hum of the fan in the room over suddenly dies. He hears Clarke groan, a muttered curse from Abby, and then someone – probably Jake – tinkering with the generator.
The office window is open, and there’s a slight breeze, so Bellamy stays in the office, away from the sweaty and irritated women, until he hears Jake come back inside.
“The generator has died.” Jake announces as he walks through the open door.
Bellamy leans against the office door frame, the book resting on his hip, and it takes him a moment to comprehend what Jake had just said.
Clarke slouches further into the couch, almost as if her bones have gone liquid. Abby, on the other hand, sits up a little straighter and glares at the fan in front of her, as if it was the fan’s fault this happened.
There’s a pregnant pause, and then Bellamy hears Abby ask, “Doesn’t your friend have an extra?”
While Jake Griffin goes to get the spare generator, Bellamy and Clarke play a few rounds of WAR with the deck of cards they found in the kitchen junk drawer. It doesn’t take them long to get bored of the card games, and eventually they’re lying on the backporch, staring at the ceiling.
“You think the rest of our friends are okay?”
Clarke shrugs, and Bellamy feels it more than he sees her doing it, “Probably. Mom had to drive past the Millers house on the way home from the hospital, and said it didn’t look like they had any damage.”
“My neighborhood is in a flood zone.”
Clarke reaches out and takes his hand in hers, “I’m sure all of your friends are okay.”
Abby walks in, and when they hear her, they let each other’s hand go and sit up. As soon as Bellamy sees her face, his stomach drops. He knows that look. Someone died.
His chest starts hurting, and all he can think is, Please don’t let it be Jake. Please don’t let it be Jake. Please don’t let it be–
He looks over at Clarke. She seems more confused than anything.
Abby makes to move closer to her daughter, but something stops her.
“Clarke, sweetie, something has happened.” She uses her Doctor Voice, and that's when Clarke's body goes rigid.
Bellamy looks through the window and sees Miller’s dad in the kitchen, and that’s when he knows.