Chapter Text
He sat up quickly, breathing heavily. Another nightmare . Bellamy’s been having too much of them recently, waking up, catching his breath for nearly three minutes was frankly quite exhausting—seeing his mother’s dead body was a everyday thing by now; her face pale, life sucked out of her, her hands and feet almost purple from the cold, her neck covered in yellow-blue bruises from the rope.
He tried everything, waking her up frantically, knowing it was a dead end; she was dead for probably a couple of hours, but the thought of it just couldn’t reach him then.
He was seventeen, and frightened by the world, and what it has done to his loved ones. First it was his father leaving, then his mother. And Octavia, her face full of non-stopping tears when she first heard from him.
It was almost six years ago, so he thought the nightmares were gone.
“Dude, are you okay?” Lincoln asked. His roommate, he forgot about him for a minute, and how thin the walls were. “I heard you scream.”
“It was nothing, just a nightmare.” he shrugged it off, as he always did. Bellamy was never the one to pour his heart out, even if it was one of his closest friends. Lincoln’s worried expression didn’t fade from his face.
“If you want to talk about it, then you know where to find me.” and with a sigh, Lincoln left his room. Bellamy closed his eyes for a few seconds, taking deep breaths, just like the counsellor at Ark High School told him too, after having a panic attack in the bathroom.
He checked the clock, 2:09am. Bellamy knew he wouldn’t fall asleep anytime soon, so checking his phone was probably the only option he had left. There were a few messages from Monty, links to the newest football matches in the town, a text from Octavia checking in on him if he was okay, and a selfie with a koala. At least Australia was treating her well , he thought.
He was never into social media, but having friends who were obsessed with it included him signing up to Snapchat, Facebook and of course, Instagram. He was just there to like Jasper’s stupid selfie’s after partying to hard at some frat parties, and Lincoln being the mom friend of the group.
The only pictures he had, were of his cactus plant, Dereck, and pictures taken with Octavia, were they were making goofy faces—nothing more was needed. There probably was more pictures of him on Monty’s Twitter, his legendary, motivating and most importantly drunken speeches to Lincoln or Jasper, than actually on any of his social media platforms.
After two or more hours, his eyes started closing, and he took the chance to fall asleep again, positioning on his ratty mattress, hoping the nightmares wouldn’t find him.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
Marcus Kane’s little 24h diner on the side of the road, was Clarke’s happy place. She felt more at home, then in her mother’s grand villa, filled with pictures in frames full of fake smiles, and awkward hugs. It wasn’t that she had a bad relationship with her mother, it was complicated.
At least, that was what she always has said to herself, or others. Abby had a stronger relationship with her intern, Raven Reyes, than her daughter, and that was saying a lot.
“Clarke! Haven’t seen you in ages, dear.” Marcus went around the bar, to pull her in a tight hug. She returned the hug, after seconds of consideration—she just didn’t like hugging, or cuddling in general with other people; it made her uncomfortable after a short while.
“Yeah, being a double major is kicking my ass, but I love it.” it was true, she always had wanted to go into the medicine field, purely on the fact that she could help people—art history was always her small getaway from the real world, getting lost in all the colours on the paintings in front of her that were, yet to be finished, was something so powerful and energizing she couldn’t put it into words.
“Well if you love it, then it’s all that matters.” he smiled warmly at her, making his way to the milkshake machine, knowing what she would order already.
When she went to Ark High, her only safe place was this diner, and Kane was kind enough to help her with her calculus homework, knowing how she hated it. Her dad and him were good friends, before Jake Griffin’s death, she would always come here with him, ordering two vanilla milkshakes and the wonderful pancakes this place offered. After it was just her, Abby, her mother, preferred more expensive restaurants, where the food on the place was never filling Clarke’s stomach.
Kane handed her the milkshake, and went to the kitchen. Clarke sat on of the red sofas, right next to the window. The diner itself was kind of a replica of an 70’s/80’s diner, where kids after school would go and get waffles especially after a hard day. She liked it that way.
She checked her phone, 8% battery, great . Not even caring about the time (2:30am), she threw it into her purse, looking out of the window.
“Here you go, the famous pancakes. My pops secret recipe.” he smiled, and Clarke sighed at the sight of them—she loved this too much for her own good, her dad used to joke how her body would only consist of the pancakes, and she would correct him how it wasn’t scientifically possible, bragging about her biology knowledge; she was a smartass when she was a child.
She didn’t live with her mother, but thanksgiving was around the corner, and as complicated the relationship between them has been, Clarke knew that it was also a close date to her father’s anniversary and she would never leave her mother on that day; so she stayed with her. She only lived seven hours from here, the closest college she could find that fit her expectations and wasn't filled with arrogant rich kids even though she was one of them, and one of the best in the state, but train hotel prices for a couple of day were expensive, so staying with her mother was unfortunately the cheapest option.
She finished her pancakes, and with a mouthful of them, grinned at Kane who was watching her with amusement on his face.
When she handed him the plate, and paid he sighed. “It’s good, to see you... eat.” he half-whispered, then a full of panic face started creeping up on him, and Clarke knew what it was about.
“It’s fine, and yeah it is. I’m finally healthy, well, if you could call mass eating pancakes healthy.” she answered, smiling at him, and he returned the smile.
After her father’s death, when she was a junior in Highschool, and constant fights with her mother, she got into the wrong crowd and groups of people—partying the whole night, and then throwing up the next morning as quite as she could to not wake Abby up.
Then one day, the realization hit her, that her father was actually dead. That he wouldn’t come up—Clarke stopped eating, she threw up the food after every lunch or dinner, her body became slimmer to the point when one day she woke up in a hospital bed, connected to wires and other stuff, she knew she needed to get a grip and start working on herself.
It didn’t help that her mother was at every corner, driving her to and from school, the teachers looking at her with pitying looks, but secretly seeing if she wasn’t throwing up anywhere, that was the time Kane’s diner became her safe place, the only place she could go and not be followed anyone to the toilet.
Bulimia didn’t disappear quickly; it was a long process and it sometimes still tempted her to just go and throw everything out of her system, but she knew it could kill her, her body started going back to looking at what someone would call ‘healthy’ around her first year of college.
She started working out, every time she had the urge to throw up, she would go to the gym and work herself that she was sweating all over the place, making the people at the gym look bad, of how she would beat the shit out of the mannequin in the corner.
After what felt like minutes, but was probably hours, looking at the sun already rising up, Clarke stood up, smiling at Kane, who was washing the table, and waving a hand in goodbye.
Maybe her sleeping schedule was messed up, but spending a night like this, was better than throwing up in the toilet, or partying until she blacked out, and didn’t remember where or how she got herself on a rooftop of a building, yes it happened.
This was a good start to the day, and maybe, just maybe she was ready to face her mother once more.