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Pull the Trigger

Chapter Text

Bellamy was careful to park far away, not that Clarke would be able to recognize his vehicle. He stayed behind the tree line across the street as he made his way toward her empty house, freezing whenever he heard a car approaching. But if Miller’s reporting was to be trusted, he still had a few more minutes until Clarke returned.

He recognized the house from his earlier online search. It needed a bit of work, but it was close enough to the city for what Clarke was up to, yet far enough away that she could stay away from prying eyes. Luckily, it was an older house, one she hadn’t been in for long… meaning Bellamy should be able to break in.

He waited until there was complete and utter silence before crossing the street, taking note of how far apart Clarke’s house was from the neighboring two. Bellamy could afford to make a bit of noise within reason. But something loud, like say a gunshot, would easily be heard by the residents of this street. He crept around to the back, scanning the exterior of the house for any evidence of camera surveillance and finding none. It was probably smart, anyway. Bellamy had no idea if Clarke had a hacker on her side right now or not, meaning it would probably be a little too easy for the wrong hands to get footage of what she is up to.

Picking the lock on her back door was tough, but Bellamy was taught by Marcus Kane himself… so eventually, he got in. He checked quickly for any kind of alarm system, despite Monty reassuring him that there was none inside. But this was Clarke he was talking about, and he needed to be careful.

He clicked his flashlight on, peering around the room as soon as he was sure there was no alarm system in place. This home didn’t feel like Clarke’s home. The walls were too beige, the furniture too uninviting… nothing like what Clarke Griffin would pick out. Then again, she wasn’t quite Clarke Griffin anymore.

He shook his head, reminding himself that it had been six years since he last saw her. A lot would have changed in the time since Bellamy left her behind.

“Did you get in?” he heard Monty ask through the earpiece.

“Yes, but so far, I haven’t found anything that will tell us what she and Marcus are up to,” Bellamy murmured, although that really wasn’t what Bellamy was here to find out. He stepped into her kitchen, and on her refrigerator, she had a photo of her and Marcus from Christmas the previous year. It wasn’t the first time he had seen this photo in the last few days. Monty had dug up every photo he could unearth as soon as Bellamy found out she was actually here, but he couldn’t figure out what they meant. Over the years, he had listened to dozens of plans between Clarke and Marcus about what to do when they returned to Mt. Weather, but none of them ever required that Clarke pose as Marcus’ adopted daughter as a way into Wallace’s circle. Bellamy shuddered at the thought that they might have come up with a new plan because Bellamy already knew all their other plans, as if he would somehow be against them after what Wallace did to his mother.

“Okay, remember that I expect check ins every half hour,” Monty huffed, and Bellamy pressed his lips together. Right, he missed his check in time. But in his defense, this past week was the first time in years that Bellamy actually cared if he stayed safe, thus being the first time since he was working with Clarke himself that he felt the need to use check ins.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed as he made his way toward the stairs. He heard Monty click out just as he reached the top, and the upstairs seemed to be just as dully furnished as the downstairs, a far cry from the warm colors and bold patterns that Clarke would usually drift toward. This wasn’t the house of someone who was planning on staying here long, which made Bellamy grateful that he found out she was here when he did.

He headed straight toward what he suspected to be the master bedroom, figuring that if Clarke were to be hiding anything, it would be in there. Her bed was unmade, the comforter nearly fallen completely onto the floor… which told him she was sleeping alone since that’s always how her bed looked when he wasn’t around to constantly fix it. He shook his head, reminding himself that it was none of his business if Clarke was with someone or not. She wasn’t his… he made sure of that when all he offered her as a goodbye was a kiss to her bare shoulder when she started to stir, murmuring for her to go back to sleep.

He moved toward her closet, seeing lavish dresses and sparkling heels. He pulled the dresses aside, looking for anything out of usual. He was about to give up completely until his flashlight revealed a small line in the wall. He stepped closer, carefully feeling around the wall for some kind of latch. When he finally felt it, he pulled forward, revealing Clarke’s “safe,” hidden where hardly anyone would be able to find. He pulled out the box, stepping out of her closet to drop it on her bed as he opened it. Stacks and stacks of papers were inside, most of which were her father’s files on Dante Wallace himself.

So, she and Kane were going straight for Wallace after all this time. He bit his lip, grateful that he called off his current mission so that he could investigate this. If Bellamy had been using his head, he never would have asked Murphy to take out Wallace anyway. Wallace dying didn’t fix anything, it didn’t make him accountable to everything that happened all those years ago. It was always Bellamy’s plan to make things right, not to take shortcuts like murdering the man… but after losing Clarke, he was too furious and heartbroken to give a damn about his original intentions.

There were a few photos inside, several of Clarke and both her parents. He was fairly certain her mother was still alive, apparently tucked away in some corner of the world for her own safety. He wished he could say the same for Clarke, knowing all too well what would happen to her if anyone here found out whose daughter she was.

As he got to the bottom of the box, he found two things that knocked the breath out of him. The first was what looked like a draft of a speech… Wallace’s speech to be exact… announcing his intent to run for president. Bellamy clenched his eyes shut, now knowing why Clarke reemerged after all these years. She was here to stop him.

The second was a torn-out sheet of paper with Bellamy’s own handwriting on it. Forgive me was all it said, and he shuddered at the memory of that night.

He was jerked out of the memory when he heard a car outside. He quickly put her things back into the box, carefully putting it back where he found it before taking off down the stairs. He ducked down so that he wouldn’t been seen in the windows, creeping into the dining room. He pressed his back against the wall so that Clarke wouldn’t see him when she entered the house, but he took a risk by leaning forward to see who was outside.

An expensive looking car with tinted windows was pulled up in front of her house, a car far too flashy for someone like Clarke to pick out. He snapped a quick picture of the plates before ducking behind the curtain as Clarke stepped out of the car. He texted Monty the photo quickly, trying to figure out who Clarke was working with.

Then, he heard Clarke’s laugh. The sound was muffled by the walls, a bit quieter than he was used to… but that was his princess’s laugh, alright. He couldn’t make out what she said to the driver of the car before he heard the door slam shut.

He held his breath as he heard her fumble with her keys. This was it… the first time he would see Clarke in six long, miserable years. He never thought he would see her again, he never thought he could.

She flicked the front light on as she stepped inside. The light flickered off the mirrors in the dining room, and Bellamy could make out the reflection of Clarke stepping toward her staircase, tugging her shoes off. He studied her a bit closer than he did when he saw her outside, noticing that her hair was a bit longer than when he last saw her. She was more put together, her hair perfectly curled and more makeup than he had ever seen on her… but there wasn’t much reason for her to dress up when they were training together. She looked… beautiful, not that he had ever seen a version of Clarke Griffin that wasn’t beautiful.

He heard a small click in his earpiece before Monty said, “That car belongs to Cage Wallace, Bellamy.” Bellamy sucked in a breath at those words, his entire body tensing in anger that Clarke was just in Cage Wallace’s car. What could she possibly be doing in his car? Did she not realize how dangerous it was to get that close to the Wallace family?

Bellamy must have made a noise of some kind because he heard Clarke still her movements. His eyes flickered back up to the mirror, seeing Clarke’s eyes narrowed in the direction of the dining room. She definitely knows that someone is there. She lifted up her skirt slightly, pulling her gun from her holster, and Bellamy was almost relieved that she was at the very least armed. He was less relieved that the person she was about to hold at gunpoint was him. The irony of him being the one to teach her how to shoot all those years ago was not lost on him, of course.

“Don’t,” he warned as she stepped toward him, her body in position to take the shot if she had to. He watched her face falter in recognition at the sound of his voice. “It’s me, princess.”

“Get out here,” she growled, and he bit his lip as he stepped out from behind the wall. She didn’t lower her gun. No, her eyes were trained furiously on him, a look he had never actually seen directed at him.

“Pull the trigger. I dare you,” he said, gesturing to her gun… which now that he thought about it looked a lot like the one he first got her all those years ago. Clarke Griffin changes her name, disappears, abandons every other trace of her, yet she was sentimental enough to keep that gun.

“Why are you here?” she snapped, putting the safety back on but not putting it completely away.

“I found out you weren’t dead,” he replied, clenching his jaw as he spoke. Her blue eyes were icy as she gave him a once over, her shoulders tense as she stood her ground before him. “You let me think you were dead for six years, Clarke.”

He waited for her to say something… anything. God knows she must have plenty to say to him after all these years. There had to be something she could tell him to explain what was going on. Bellamy was gone for less than six months only to find the news about Clarke’s murder, throwing him into a vicious cycle of self-loathing and depression because he was convinced it was his fault. After all, if he had just been there, he could have helped protect her. She could have been safe.

Then, just a week ago, Bellamy finds out that it was a lie, that Clarke had been alive this whole time as he fell apart… that he could have been looking for her… that he could have found her years ago. “Do you really have nothing to say to me?” he snapped.

Her gun fell to her side as she took a step toward him, her face too stoic for him to read. This version of Clarke was different than the one he knew, a bit colder but still just as calculating. “You left me,” she whispered, her eyes boring into him as he stood there motionless. He felt a sharp pang at those words, his memories flooding back as he played that night over again. He remembered how he clung to her that night, knowing that he was about to rip her heart out by leaving… but he had to do it. He had to get to Octavia, and he couldn’t take Clarke with him. He remembered the way Clarke looked at him with so much love in her eyes, the likes of which he had never seen from anyone else in his life. “You left me behind,” she snapped sharply, her eyes full of nothing but hurt and anger now… all because of what he did to her.

“Clarke,” he started, an apology in his voice. Her eyes softened for a brief second before the mask came back on, and Bellamy felt like there was a weight pressing into his chest as he tried to breathe.

He knew this conversation wouldn’t go well, not with her being furious with him leaving and him still not recovering from the fact that he just spent six years thinking the woman he loved was dead. He was too shaky to figure out what to say to her, his eyes still not quite believing that this was really her.

“Why are you here?” she snapped quickly, her eyes narrowed at him as if this were an interrogation.

“I came here to find you, Clarke,” he said carefully, and she raised an eyebrow. “And it was always our plan to take Wallace down together. I want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” she scoffed, turning back toward her front door. Bellamy reached out, grabbing her wrist before she pulled too far away.

“Please,” he pleaded, and her eyes flickered up to his, dark and confused as she stared back at him. “You don’t know what it was like to think that you were dead.”

She jerked her wrist from his clasp, opening her door before turning to glare at him. “I imagine it was a lot like waking up one morning and realizing that you would never see the person you loved ever again,” she growled. Before Bellamy could even open his mouth to say something, she shouted, “Get out!”

She all but shoved him outside, slamming the door right in his face. “That could have gone better,” Murphy snorted in his earpiece, and Bellamy ripped it out furiously.

He contemplated turning back, demanding that Clarke hear him out… but he should probably give her time to cool off before approaching her again. With how angry she was, she might actually shoot him. In fact, he started running toward where he hid his car just in case he measured her anger correctly.

He slid in quickly, before resting his head on his steering wheel. He just saw Clarke. She was alive. She was more or less okay… physically at least. A week ago, none of that was possible for Bellamy.

As he pulled into reverse, his phone starting ringing. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he took the chance to answer it. “So, you are back, huh?” Marcus Kane said, and Bellamy sucked in a breath.

“She called you already?” he huffed.

“No,” he said quickly, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows. “Do you really think I haven’t kept tabs on you, Blake?” Before he could ask what he meant by that, he continued, “Are you back for good this time?”

“I’m not leaving again,” he swore. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. He left this life behind for his sister… who didn’t even want his help. It was for nothing. He lost it all in the hope that maybe he could bring Octavia back… and he couldn’t.

“Stay in town. I’ll be in touch,” he said before hanging up.

Bellamy sat there, frozen. He didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know if he was about to go back to how things were, where Kane told him what to do and he did it, no questions asked… and he didn’t know where that would leave his new crew. All he knew was that working with Kane and Clarke was the best way to get to Wallace and that he would have to be an idiot to walk away from this again. Avenging his mother was basically all he had left now.

You have me, he remembered Clarke saying when he accidentally said that in front of her years ago, and he clenched his eyes shut at the memory. He had her, and he lost her.

He searched Cage Wallace’s name on his phone, since he was unable to think of a legitimate reason why Clarke would be dropped off by Cage Wallace that late at night. And when he found the paparazzi photo of them leaving a restaurant with Cage’s hand possessively on Clarke’s waist, Bellamy punched his dashboard.

Chapter Text

Out of the corner of her eye, Clarke saw Dante pull Cage into the hallway. She kept her eyes focused on Nia as she spoke, though Clarke’s thoughts started to drift. She needed to trust that Raven had an eye on everyone… but Clarke still got a little bit jumpy whenever Dante needed to speak with Cage, as if he was somehow onto her.

No, no one was onto her. She had been putting together this identity for years, memorizing every detail and making every connection she could. There was no way that Dante Wallace would know exactly who she was just yet. “Cage tells me that you are a teacher,” Roan interrupted his mother, snapping Clarke back into focus. Nia looked a bit irritated, but Clarke was a bit grateful. There was only so much she could listen to Nia campaigning on Dante’s behalf before Clarke wanted to vomit.

“An art teacher,” Clarke replied with a smile.

“She recently secured a position at Mt. Weather Elementary,” Wells jumped in for her, leaving out that there was no way that Clarke would be around in the fall to take her first teaching post.

“How sweet,” Echo said in the most condescending tone, and Clarke plastered a larger smile on her face. She always felt like Echo was sizing her up, despite Clarke choosing the least threatening role for herself possible. No one ever thought twice about the young elementary school teacher, yet for some reason, Echo seemed particularly concerned with Clarke.

“Well, I have always had a passion for art,” Clarke replied. “And when there was an opening at Mt. Weather, it just felt like fate.”

“I always say that people should follow their passion,” Nia started, and Roan took a long swig of his drink. As Nia and Echo fell into their usual back and forth, Clarke snuck a glance around the room. Dante and Cage were still gone, meaning whatever they were meeting about was not a simple conversation.

When someone came to introduce themselves to Nia, Clarke leaned into Wells and whispered, “Does Raven have eyes on them?”

Wells pulled out his phone and started texting Raven, and Clarke noticed Diana Sydney approach their little cluster. Clarke had hardly gotten to speak to her tonight. She usually stayed hidden at events like this, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. After all, she wasn’t a politician. She just owned politicians. “Clarke, sweetie,” she started with an affection that alarmed Clarke. She could count on one hand the number of times that Diana has “met” Clarke. “Where is your father? I need to introduce him to a few people,” she said, and Clarke turned her head before Diana saw any minor shift in Clarke’s face at referring to Marcus as her father. It was the one part of Clarke’s story that she hadn’t gotten used to.

“I don’t know,” Clarke admitted, scanning the room for him. It was too crowded, meaning he could be anywhere. “I will go find him for you,” Clarke decided, needing a break from Nia and her associates. She makes a relatively quick lap around the ballroom, scanning the crowd for any sign of Marcus Kane. She kept getting stopped by people wanting to get to know her, which should be expected given Clarke’s relative newness to the Mt. Weather social scene and how her time around Cage had given her a bit too much attention.

Eventually, she made her way out into the lobby, spotting Kane on the phone as he paced. He saw her, gesturing for her to wait as he continued to schmooze with whoever was on the other line. She got a text from Raven, seeing a link to a live feed, and Clarke’s stomach dropped. “What?” she finally heard Kane say, and Clarke tucked her phone away when she realized he was talking to her.

“Diana Sydney was looking for you and I said I would come find you,” Clarke replied, and Kane furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“You need to relax,” he finally said as he walked toward her. Clarke looked over her shoulder, making sure that no one else was around.

“I am relaxed,” Clarke replied, ignoring the horrible feeling she had in her stomach about that live feed being just at her fingertips.

“Blake is back in town for one week, and you’re already struggling to keep it together,” he muttered, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. She hadn’t seen Bellamy since the night she found him in her home, and she was grateful for it. She was less grateful for the fact that she knew he was still in town somewhere, and Clarke had no way of figuring out what he was up to.

“I am doing just fine,” she growled. She was, though. She had stolen a few more pieces of information from Cage, in addition to making some very powerful contacts just this evening alone. “But I would feel better if I knew where he was,” she added in, having a feeling that Kane did know where he was. It might have been six years, but Kane always had a soft spot for Bellamy. And it certainly didn’t help that Kane was being evasive when Clarke asked him about what he knew about Bellamy.

“You went six years without knowing where he was, and you were just fine,” he replied, holding out his arm. Clarke took it with a groan, walking back toward the ballroom arm in arm. “Tell me, is Bellamy being around again going to mess with your focus?”

“Of course not,” Clarke huffed. “It’s been six years.” Six years where Clarke never found out why he left. For one of those years, she was actually convinced he was dead. After all, she expected him to have some kind of reaction to Clarke’s murder. Then, she kept finding small pieces of evidence that he was still around somewhere. A missing document from his safety deposit box four years ago, the death of Wallace’s old attorney three years ago, the disappearance of the remainder of Aurora Blake’s assets… all signs pointed to Bellamy Blake still being out there somewhere. She just never thought he would come back to Mt. Weather.

“Good. If he is still on the right path, I may bring him back into the fold. He is quite the asset,” Kane said quietly, and Clarke let go of his arm, halting her movements.

“No,” she snapped. She didn’t want Bellamy anywhere near this. He had his reasons for leaving, whatever they were. He chose to leave them once. He would do it again.

“I wasn’t asking for your permission, Clarke,” Kane replied before turning and walking toward Diana Sydney. Clarke ducked back out into the lobby before anyone noticed the way her jaw was clenching or how she was digging her nails into her skin so harshly that she might draw blood.

No, she wasn’t going to allow herself to think of Bellamy anymore tonight. Instead, she focused on finding somewhere quiet and secluded so that she could watch the feed. She eventually found a family bathroom far from the ballroom and locked herself in it as she clicked the link Raven sent.

It was blurry at first, taking place in one of the smaller meeting rooms inside the building. “I will go through with dropping the payments, but that is it,” Cage’s voice snapped harshly, and Clarke clicked on the fan of the bathroom and turned down the volume. Finally, the quality of the video seemed to improve. She could make out Cage and Dante, along with a dark-haired woman that Clarke had seen a few times yet did not make the acquaintance of yet.

“We have been over this. Your obligations are changing,” Dante said with a coldness in his voice.

“The problem is that you are someone the public can’t place. You seem like someone without ambitions or plans of your own, only showing up to support your father,” the woman said, scrolling through her phone with almost disinterest in her eyes.

“Oh, he has ambitions of his own,” Dante smirked, and Clarke swallowed. Of everyone, Cage seemed to be who she had the least information on. There were huge blocks of time during his days that Clarke couldn’t account for. She knew he was doing something that needed to be secretive, otherwise it would be easier for her or Raven to figure it out.

“I can work on my own narrative, but I have lines that I won’t cross,” Cage snapped, and Clarke caught Dante rolling his eyes.

“The beauty of this is that you really won’t have to,” the woman sighed, and Clarke furrowed her brows in confusion. “The girl is harmless, perfectly made for this kind of thing.”

“A literal school teacher. Do you have any idea what this could do for your career?” Dante snapped, and Clarke bit her lip. They were talking about her.

“Let’s not pretend this is for my career. You just want something to flaunt around during your campaign to distract from the lawsuits being filed against you,” Cage hissed.

Well, at least she was convincing enough to be seen as harmless. But she didn’t like the way that Cage was reacting to whatever it was they were proposing. She needed to do a better job of, well, making him like her. She shook her head at the thought, trying to ignore the sick feeling she would get in her stomach every time he so much as touched her.

She sent a text to Raven, asking her to keep Clarke updated if anything else went down, before slipping out of the bathroom and heading back toward the ballroom. There were even more people inside than when she left, likely because Dante’s speech was coming up. She could barely make out someone waving to her, likely Nia. Clarke forced the sweetest smile onto her lips as she made her way through the crowd, before being enveloped in a hug from Nia again. Now, Nia and Diana’s sudden affection was starting to make sense. They wanted Clarke to stick around so that they could use her relationship with Cage as a distraction when the campaign was launched.

“I wanted you to meet someone,” Nia said as she pulled away, and Clarke’s eyes drifted past Roan to see who she was talking about.

“Hello,” he said, holding his hand out, and Clarke’s stomach dropped. “I’m Bellamy Blake.” Clarke kept her face still, smiling as sweetly as she could as she took his hand. “You must be Clarke.”

“Yes, I am,” she said through gritted teeth. Of course, he showed up tonight. Wells and Raven had reassured her that he wouldn’t be reckless enough to show up like this again. And yet, here he is.

“Bellamy just moved here from, where did you say?” Nia asked, but Clarke kept her eyes fixed on him. She could kill him for this.

“Arkadia. I actually just got a new job,” he said, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. As far as Clarke knew, he was only qualified for a job as either a hired assassin or a break-in specialist.

“Oh, you are going to love working for Marcus Kane,” Echo said, and Bellamy’s smile was unwavering as he looked right at her.

“I had no idea. I guess he really doesn’t discuss his work with me,” Clarke said carefully, trying to figure out what she could do, within reason, to wipe that smirk right off his face. Her muscles were tightening as she tried to keep herself composed, ignoring her instincts to lunge toward Bellamy and break his nose.

She kept her eyes fixed on Bellamy as he started talking with Roan, blending in seamlessly with everyone else here. She wasn’t sure how Raven had missed him coming in, but Clarke was already planning to rip Kane apart for purposefully keeping her in the dark. This had his fingerprints all over it. Now the only question was why he was here… It wasn’t like he just showed up to get into Clarke’s head. Regardless of what happened in the last six years, she was certain he still agreed with her mission. He wouldn’t screw her up.

She finally located Marcus in a conversation with Dante, his eyes snapping away from her as soon as they made eye contact. Then, Clarke felt a hand at her back. “Sorry,” she heard Cage whisper into her ear, and she had to fight her instincts to jump away from him. Then, he kissed her cheek, and Clarke caught Bellamy staring right at them, the smirk finally dropping from his face.

“Is everything okay?” Clarke asked, specifically ignoring Bellamy’s reaction as she leaned into Cage.

“Yeah, just some campaign stuff,” he muttered. “Oh, hello. I am Cage Wallace,” he said, reaching his other hand out toward Bellamy, and Clarke clenched her jaw.

“I know who you are,” Bellamy blurted out. “I’m Bellamy Blake. You are Governor Wallace’s son, correct?”

“Yes, I am,” Cage said with a grin plastered across his face. Bellamy’s face had recovered from whatever that reaction was. “It is lovely to meet you.” Before Bellamy could say anything in response, there was a tapping on the microphone… Cage’s signal to leave. “I’ll find you all after,” he said, patting Clarke on her back before taking off toward the stage.

“Excuse me,” Clarke murmured as she turned to go grab something to drink. Marcus met her at the table, handing her a glass. “You better tell me what is going on,” she whispered before taking a rather long sip.

“Well, I haven’t seen the feeds yet, but from what Raven tells me, Dante is pushing Cage to… well, how can I put this?” he huffed, and Clarke rolled her eyes. He knew that wasn’t what she was asking. “I mean, it was how Dante and his wife got together. These kinds of arrangements are quite common for aspiring politicians.” Clarke swallowed, not liking the cavalier way that he just threw that out. It was never Clarke’s plan to get that close with the Wallace family, just close enough. Before her mind finished processing why this could actually help them, he added in, “Oh, were you asking about Bellamy?”

“What is he doing here?” she huffed, and Marcus grabbed her by the arm, guiding her away from the table.

“He is a good person to keep around. That doesn’t mean we trust him yet,” he clarified, and her eyes widened. “If everything comes crashing down around us, we could use someone like him in our corner.”

It was almost the same pitch he gave her all those years ago when he first introduced her to Bellamy. “We don’t know if he is in our corner.”

“Clarke,” he said seriously, and she glanced up at him. “You know as well as I do what could happen to you if things take a turn.”

“And I have you, Wells, and Raven watching my back,” she reminded… although, she knew what Marcus was getting at. Bellamy being around could be an added level of protection. That’s what he was always supposed to be. They were supposed to come back to Mt. Weather together, and when that was the plan, there was no one she trusted more to watch her back. If Clarke’s life were in danger, he knew how to get her to safety. Raven and Wells were not a replacement for Bellamy at any level. Raven could only do so much from behind a computer screen, and Wells was not as gifted as picking out threats as Bellamy was. It was for this reason that Clarke trained even harder, that she forced herself to wait as long as she could before coming back here on her own. She had to make up for the fact that Bellamy wouldn’t be by her side. She had to train to be alone in this.

She heard Cage’s voice over the speaker, turning around with a sweet grin on her face as she looked toward the stage. “Don’t let your own heartbreak crowd your judgement,” Marcus whispered, but Clarke kept her eyes fixed forward. “Think about how many close calls you had. Remember just how many times Bellamy has saved you. You need him.”

“No, I don’t,” Clarke corrected. She had proven that in the past six years. She didn’t need Bellamy Blake.

“… and it has been an honor to grow up watching my father fight for the underprivileged in our beautiful state,” Cage continued.

“Put your hurt feelings aside and think about this logically,” Kane whispered, and Clarke clenched her jaw.

“Earlier tonight, I was telling my girlfriend Clarke a story…” Cage said, and Clarke’s eyebrows furrowed.

“When did I become his girlfriend?” she asked, turning to look at Kane who had an uneasy expression on his face.

“Dante isn’t taking any chances this election. His opponent has quite a compelling personal narrative with his family. I guarantee you’ll get a proposal from Cage within the month,” Kane replied, and Clarke’s eyes widened. “It’s just how these things go. You’re a sweet little school teacher and an orphan. Welcoming you into the family during the campaign is political gold.”

“I am not marrying Cage Wallace for this,” she murmured.

“Oh, we won’t let it get that far,” he replied with a shrug, and the room erupted into applause as Dante stepped up to the podium. “But this will give you access to a lot of what we need to tear this snake down.”

She stopped speaking to Kane, too angry about whatever he was doing with Bellamy and this new development in their plan to be able to fake a smile while speaking to him anymore. She lost sight of Bellamy, which was probably for the best. She wasn’t sure she could look in his direction again without her eyes coming across as murderous.

At first, the crowd seemed pretty enraptured with what Wallace was saying. Most everyone there knew this was going to be his official announcement, meaning everyone was just waiting for the right moment to cheer. Clarke snuck a few glances around the room, noticing that several people were on their phones… which was unusual given the crowd assembled.

The number of people staring at their phones only grew as the speech continued, and when Wallace made the official announcement, only about half the crowd was paying attention. Clarke located Nia on the other side of the room, looking like she was barking out orders. “Did you do something?” Clarke asked, looking at Marcus who was now on his phone too.

“No, this wasn’t me,” he muttered as he handed the phone over to Clarke. A reporter broke the story that Shumway, Diana Sydney’s right hand, was arrested in his home just minutes ago.

“Do we know the charges yet?” Clarke asked. Raven hadn’t uncovered anything concrete about Shumway yet, so she was certain that none of them were behind this.

“No, they haven’t released that,” he said as he took back his phone, opening his texts to get Raven on it. Clarke looked around the room, trying to locate Diana Sydney. She couldn’t be happy about this. And as soon as Wallace found out about the arrest, he wouldn’t be either.

But Diana was no where to be seen. Instead, Clarke spotted an all too familiar man with dark hair and broad shoulders slipping out the back. She walked as calmly as she could, following Bellamy as she broke through the crowd. When she finally got out to the lobby, he was stepping onto an elevator. She darted across the lobby, pressing the button right before the elevator closed. As it opened back up, Bellamy was leaning against the elevator wall with a smirk on his lips. Clarke didn’t say a word as she stepped in.

“What floor?” he smirked as soon as the door shut, and Clarke reached over to pull the elevator brake. “If you mind, I do have somewhere I need to be,” he teased before Clarke turned and shoved him up against the wall.

“What the fuck are you trying to pull here?” she growled, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“There are cameras in elevators, princess,” he smirked.

“These were taken out last night, just in case,” she snapped. “It was you who took out Shumway, right?”

“I wouldn’t call this taking someone out, Clarke,” he joked, and she moved to hit his shoulder before he grabbed her wrist, twisting it behind her so she couldn’t try that again. “You’ve gotten careless. Thought I taught you better than that.”

She elbowed him right in the gut, wrenching herself out of his grip as she made her way across the elevator. “What the fuck are you pulling with Shumway? You spooked all of them, especially Sydney.”

“Oh, does that not work with your little plan?” he mocked. “Do you have any idea how many secrets Shumway has? Secrets that he could turn over for a lesser sentence, secrets that could take all of them down.” Clarke clenched her jaw. If Bellamy had been around these last six years, he would know that it wouldn’t work. Shumway was loyal, too loyal. It wasn’t worth the risk to hope that Shumway would crack under pressure, not when leaving him where he was gave the rest of them a false sense of security. “I am trying to speed all this up for you, Clarke.”

“Why did you come back here?” Clarke snapped. It’s been six years. Why now? Was it just because Clarke was back?

“I told you. I found out you weren’t dead,” he muttered.

“Oh, so you came back here for me?” she scoffed, and his eyes narrowed at her.

“Clarke,” he warned, and she took a step forward.

“Did you think you could just come back and I would be okay with that?” she asked, batting her eyes at him as she spoke. “That I would just throw myself at you, grateful that you decided to come back for me?”

“That is not what I said at all, Cl—” he tried to get out before Clarke slammed him back up against the wall, gripping his collar with her hands as she crashed her lips onto his. It was scary how familiar his lips felt against hers, how easily they fit together after all these years.

“Is that what you wanted?” Clarke whispered against his lips, his eyes wide with confusion as he looked at her. When he didn’t answer, she pulled him by the collar as she kissed him harder, biting hard on his bottom lip until she felt his arms wrap around her back. “Tell me what you want,” Clarke said breathlessly as she pulled away.

“Stop,” he warned, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Tell me what you want,” she growled. “Is it me? Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” he hissed as he pushed himself off the wall and crowded her against the adjacent one. His lips were on hers now, his tongue plunging into her mouth desperately. Her fingers ran through his curls, tugging his head back to make him look at her.

“Say it,” she ordered.

“I want you. You are what I came here for,” he said quickly before trying to lean into her again, but Clarke pulled him back again, raising an eyebrow.

“Say it,” she repeated. He wasn’t telling her what she really wanted to hear. She was practically daring him to say it. And there was a small part of her that knew hearing it wouldn’t make a difference, but she still needed to hear it.

“I love you,” he confessed, and Clarke reached over to hit the next floor’s button.

He furrowed his brows in confusion, but Clarke let him lean toward her again… stopping him less than an inch away from her lips. “Then, you shouldn’t have left me behind,” she snapped before shoving him off her.

She stepped off the elevator as soon as the door opened, not looking back as Bellamy called out for her.

Chapter Text

Bellamy paced behind the couch, trying to stay as calm as he could manage. “Close friends of Shumway call this arrest a ‘witch hunt,’ although we have yet to get an official statement from his long-time employer, Diana Sydney,” the reporter on the screen explained.

Bellamy heard the back door swing open, followed by a huff from Miller as he threw his bag down. “Any luck?” Bellamy asked, and Miller shook his head. Bellamy pressed his lips together, trying to mask his disappointment. He knew that Shumway wasn’t stupid, that he would keep information hidden somewhere in case Sydney ever turned on him. They just needed to keep looking. Monty had already found two other places that Shumway might have hidden something, a storage unit and an office outside of town.

“Maybe Murphy had better luck at the unit,” Monty sighed.

“Wait, why aren’t they talking about why Shumway was arrested?” Miller snapped, reaching over Monty to grab the remote and turn up the volume. It was something Bellamy had been wondering all day. The Mt. Weather police department was pretty top notch, but even it should fall victim to leaks when it comes to this high profile of a case.

“They still don’t know. They haven’t gotten anyone to talk to them. It’s all very hush hush,” Monty said, keeping his eyes fixed on his screen.

“Don’t distract him,” Bellamy warned Miller, who rolled his eyes. But Bellamy needed Monty to stay focused on tracking down the arrest report. There was a reason that this was being kept so quiet, and Bellamy wanted to know why. All things considered, money laundering really wasn’t a huge scandal in this city, so he wasn’t sure what was keeping the department from saying anything officially.

The reporter starts talking with one of Shumway’s brothers, discussing his character and how shocked he was about the arrest. Bellamy tuned out, knowing they were just buying time until they got the real story. There were a lot of things that Shumway could have gotten arrested for, but Bellamy only led the department to the laundering and bribery… figuring anything else would get buried by Diana Sydney and alert them to the true nature of what Bellamy was doing. A charge of money laundering was really nothing compared to what he could be charged for.

His phone ringing jerked him out of his little haze. “Hello?” Bellamy huffed, leaning against the wall now, watching Miller lean over Monty’s shoulder to watch him work.

“There is going to be an opening at Diana Sydney’s office,” Marcus said, getting straight to business. “Several people were let go and she’s looking for new blood. She asked me for recommendations.”

“I have a friend who could take it,” Bellamy said, and Miller turned to look at him, raising his eyebrow.

“I was hoping you would—”

“That’s not the kind of task I’m good for,” he interrupted. Bellamy didn’t like being on the inside. There were too many things to keep track of, too many ways to get hurt. He preferred looking in, getting a clearer picture of what was happening.

“It’s just that I do not know this friend of yours. I don’t know any of the people you are working with,” he snapped.

“And I don’t know Wells Jaha or Raven Reyes, and yet here we are,” Bellamy replied. “If this is a matter of trust, well, I trust my guys. That should tell you everything you need to know.”

Kane didn’t have anything to say to that, and Bellamy was momentarily distracted by Murphy coming in with a grim expression on his face… the kind that said he came back empty handed. “By any chance, did you happen to raid Shumway to find his files on Sydney?” Bellamy asked Kane. The odds of Bellamy finding what he needed were getting slimmer by the second and he became increasingly paranoid that Sydney or Wallace beat him to it.

“No, I’ve been dragged into all kinds of emergency meetings. I haven’t even been home since your little story leaked,” he snapped, and Bellamy bit his lip. There was one more place he could look… and he just prayed he got to it first.

He hung up on Kane, grabbing his jacket. “Let’s go,” Bellamy decided, grabbing Murphy by the arm as they headed toward the door.

The office was, without traffic, forty-five minutes away. And Bellamy really should have thought through who he chose as his travelling companion. “So, what did Clarke say when you told her about Octavia?” Murphy asked, smacking gum in the obnoxious way that he knew Bellamy hated.

“Didn’t get that far,” Bellamy mumbled. He figured that Kane would have eventually told Clarke why he left, but based on the way she interacted with Bellamy, she still didn’t know. If she had known, she would have asked about Octavia… and she would already know the exact reason why Bellamy didn’t tell her. But it figures that Kane wouldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t want her fury when she found out that it was Kane who made sure Bellamy left without a word.

“I’ve listened to you talk about Clarke for six damn years. Give me more than that,” Murphy groaned, and Bellamy shot him a warning look before turning his eyes back to the road. “Like I thought you would be happy to see her alive.”

“I am happy that she’s alive,” Bellamy snapped. Murphy was there when Bellamy first found out… he saw Bellamy’s reaction. No one who had seen the tears creep out of his eyes could deny that Bellamy was overjoyed that Clarke was still alive. “But six years is a long time. People change,” he mumbled out, hoping that would be enough to placate Murphy. It wasn’t completely wrong. Bellamy had changed, Clarke had changed… they both had to learn to only depend on themselves. And what they did to each other… well, it certainly had an impact. Clarke went six years without knowing why Bellamy left her behind, and Bellamy went six years thinking she was dead. There was no way either of them could be the same person after that.

That was probably why it scared him so much when Clarke kissed him last night. It felt too familiar. It might be because their actual first kiss was not the most affectionate one, but instead, the result of a particularly bad day where they both just needed someone, and they were all each other had.

Regardless, it was alarming how familiar her soft lips felt against his, how even as she shoved him up against the wall, there was something comforting about the kiss. He had done his best to avoid thinking about it, knowing that Clarke was just playing games with him, still furious that he had left her. But it still crept into his mind, breaking his already broken heart as he tried to understand what Clarke was thinking as she kissed him.

He and Murphy arrived at the office, taking care to avoid the line of sight from the cameras around the building. Monty said he already had it covered, but Bellamy would rather be safe than sorry. Getting into the office itself was a little too easy, and the office under Shumway’s pseudonym was the first one they found.

When Bellamy flickered the light on, his stomach dropped. Cabinets were left open, loose-leaf paper everywhere. Someone had beaten them to whatever was here. “Fuck,” he growled, as Murphy got to work looking through what was left behind. But whoever was here… they knew what they were looking for, and it was the same thing Bellamy was looking for.

“Figures Sydney would know where to look. She can’t risk Shumway flipping on her,” Murphy sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Bellamy glanced over the room, biting his lip to keep from screaming. He took a risk with the Shumway leak, and if it had worked, this whole Mt. Weather nightmare could be over a lot sooner and Clarke would be far away from the Wallace family… but looking around him, Bellamy knew it didn’t really work. His only hope was that Shumway actually did flip on Sydney. “We need to get back.”

Bellamy looked back at Murphy, who had a panicked look in his eyes. “What happened?”

“Shumway is dead,” Murphy said, and Bellamy started striding toward the exit with him.



“You must be Blake,” a girl at a laptop snapped, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows at her. She didn’t even glance up at him as she spoke, just keeping her eyes focused at her screen as if Bellamy was the least interesting thing in the world.

“You must be Raven,” Bellamy realized, and a smirk formed on her lips. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Wish I could say the same,” she mumbled, and Bellamy swallowed. Luckily, he heard footsteps approaching before he had to think of something else to say. “I’m playing nice, I swear!” she huffed at the man, who Bellamy vaguely recognized from the event.

“I highly doubt that,” he said as he held his hand out for Bellamy. “I’m Wells.”

“Bellamy,” he replied, shaking the hand. There were still two people noticeably absent from this meeting that Kane demanded he attend.

“Right,” Wells mumbled, apparently reading Bellamy’s thoughts. “Where are Kane and Clarke?” he asked Raven, who immediately rolled her eyes.

“Don’t know where the fuck Clarke is. She’s been off my radar all fucking day, the sneak,” Raven grumbled as she started typing something. “Kane is almost here, though.”

Bellamy tried not to get worked up over the fact that Clarke’s own people didn’t know where she was… after all, she was a very capable person. He knows better than most how smart and crafty Clarke is, so he should trust that she’s keeping herself safe. But with Shumway being killed in prison and Clarke getting closer and closer to the Wallace family… he found it hard to stay calm.

The front door swung open, followed by Kane shouting, “Tell me you have the footage.”

“I require a ‘please’ every now and then,” Raven spat as Kane stepped in, giving Bellamy a once over.

“Was this how you saw your little plan working?” Kane asked him, narrowing his eyes, and Bellamy clenched his jaw. “And where the fuck is Clarke?”

“Great question,” Wells muttered, and Bellamy turned slightly so that he could send a quick text to Monty. He was sure that Raven was doing everything she could to locate Clarke, but maybe Monty would have better luck.

“Here is your stupid footage,” Raven snapped, turning her laptop around for all of them to see. Bellamy could recognize Shumway making his way back to his solitary cell. “They erased it from their cam footage, but one of them sent it to Sydney so that she knew the job got done.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw as he watched three men whose faces were covered beat Shumway to death. “A knife would have been faster.”

“This ensures that they can claim it was a prison fight,” Kane explained, and Bellamy nodded along. This wasn’t news to him. Then, the front door swung open. “Clarke,” Kane screamed… and Bellamy had never heard him this panicked in all the years that he had known him. “You are required to check in.”

Bellamy looked back at Clarke, who merely narrowed her eyes at Kane as she kicked the door shut behind her. “I did check in,” she replied, her heels clacking on the floor as she walked up to them. She gave Bellamy a once over before turning her attention back to Kane.

“That check in was just a text saying you were fine, not telling us what the hell you’ve been doing all day,” Kane replied, and Clarke pulled out a large envelope from her purse, shoving it into Kane’s hands.

“This is what you wanted, right?” she smirked as Kane opened it up. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her, realizing he knew exactly who made it to that office before he did… “What did you find?” she asked Raven, apparently unbothered by Kane’s frustrated expression.

“You probably don’t want to watch it. It’s how Shumway died. We all watched it, couldn’t make anything of it,” Raven replied, but Clarke waved her off as she pressed play on the video.

“There really isn’t anything you need to concern yourself with,” Kane said quickly, but Bellamy kept his eyes on Clarke as she watched the video. Her eyes widened, a dead giveaway that something was wrong. “These are probably just hired hit men who can’t really lead us back to Sydney. Hell, they might have been hired by the Kingsley’s instead.”

“No, they are Wallace’s men,” Clarke said quickly, now rewinding the video with a nervous expression in her eyes. Everyone fell into silence, trying to see what it was that Clarke was seeing. Bellamy was more thrown by her reaction to the video, almost as if she were scared… which didn’t make sense because this was the girl who was so desensitized to death that she didn’t even flinch when they lost Monroe.

She pressed pause, pointing to the masked man in the center, the one who delivered the final, and most brutal blow… the one that clearly knew just how to hit someone to kill them. “That’s Cage Wallace,” she said, jaw clenched.

“No, there is no—” Kane tried to say.

“I know my mark,” Clarke snapped, standing up straighter to look seriously at Kane. “Cage Wallace beat Shumway to death tonight.”

Bellamy clenched his eyes shut. It was one thing if Cage Wallace was just the kind of man who could hire a hitman to take out Clarke if he found out the truth… but it was another thing altogether to know that he could get rid of her whenever he wanted. Bellamy paid attention to the men in that video… they were men like Bellamy once was, the kind trained to kill. And that kind of man was who Clarke was creeping closer and closer to for this mission.

This was why Bellamy thought it was worth the risk to take out Shumway early. If it had worked, Clarke would have less opportunity to potentially get caught.

Kane and Wells got caught up in asking Raven to look into things, and Clarke stole away into the kitchen. After only a moment with arguing with himself over it, Bellamy decided to follow her. “There has got to be another way to—” he got out before Clarke held her hand out to stop him.

“You weren’t here when we made the plan, therefore, you don’t get a vote,” she snapped, and his jaw clenched.

“I came looking for you after six months. I would have been back,” he huffed, “if I had only known that you were still alive.”

She was ignoring him, pouring herself a glass of water, her hand only shaking a bit as she took a sip. Yes, she was rattled and scared, as she very well should be. She just watched Cage Wallace, the man she is lying to on a regular basis and who is planning on keeping her close for political gain, beat someone to death with his bare hands. Bellamy was terrified.

“He will try to kill you,” Bellamy tried again, his voice coming out a bit more desperate than he intended. But she wasn’t getting just how much trouble she could be in if she took one misstep, or if Bellamy’s misstep with Shumway was enough to drive the Wallace paranoia up.

“Good thing I’m not scared of dying,” she muttered, and Bellamy had never heard such a scary phrase in his life.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted, and she slammed her glass down, narrowing her eyes at him. “I know you aren’t as unfeeling as you pretend to be, princess. What fucking gives?”

She raised an eyebrow, as if she were weighing whether or not she would bother speaking back to him. Ultimately, it seemed, she decided it wasn’t worth her time. Instead, she pulled out a folded-up piece of paper and slid it to him. “This was all he had on Aurora Blake,” she said before walking out of the room. He grabbed it quickly, unfolding it to find Shumway’s detailing of the payments made for her to “take care of” the pregnancy. Luckily, there wasn’t anything after that in the files, so maybe Sydney and Shumway didn’t find out about Octavia.

He took a few moments to catch his breath, relief washing over him from the information that Clarke found for him. But when he reentered the main room, Clarke had already taken off. “Chill, she’s actually just heading home,” Raven muttered to him, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows at her. Kane and Wells were off in a corner, arguing about something. “I had to put another tracker on her. She probably won’t find it for another twelve hours or so.”

“How often do you have to put a tracker on her?” Bellamy asked, genuinely curious since this seemed very business as usual for Raven.

“More often since you showed up,” she replied, finally looking up at him with a smug look on her face. “Why don’t I know more about you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes almost accusatorily.

“I’m a very private person,” he said, raising an eyebrow back at her.

“Oh, I’m aware. Clarke asked me only once to look into you, just to verify you weren’t dead,” she said, and Bellamy’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t considered that Clarke’s mind might jump there, although it wasn’t too far of a jump. Six years was a long time, and Bellamy was good at disappearing. “Took forever for me to find any sign of you. Still don’t know anything about you.”

“I’m sure you could ask Kane or Clarke. They know enough,” Bellamy replied, though Clarke knew far more than Kane did. She knew all about what really happened with his mother, how he and her were packed up in the dead of night, the very first time Bellamy disappeared, though it wouldn’t be the last.

“Do I need to worry about you?” she asked, kicking her boots up onto the table.

“No. I only want to help. And I’m not going to hurt Clarke, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You’ve already hurt Clarke,” she retorted. “But here is what I do know. John Murphy is in your employ, he is also an orphan like you, though he has a sweet girl somewhere that he cares about,” she said, typing into her laptop, “Emori.” Bellamy’s eyes widened, wondering how the fuck Raven could find this when Monty had buried it all. “Nathan Miller, his dad died several years ago. Oh, he played high school football.”

“I get your point,” he interrupted.

“And Mr. Monty Green, the unhackable legend,” she smirked, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows at her. “Got kicked out of MIT for hacking grades,” she snorted.

“Raven,” he snapped, and she closed her laptop.

“I can do more damage from my laptop in a matter of minutes than you can do in years. In fact, I have. And I have found every person who matters to you. So, don’t fuck with Clarke,” she said very calmly.

“Stop threatening Bellamy,” Wells shouted from across the room, and Raven seemed surprised that he was listening.



After Bellamy made a quick phone call to Monty, alerting him of Raven being able to find literally everything, he made his way toward Clarke’s house.

He followed the same steps as last time. Her car was in the driveway, with only a few lights on inside the house. He crept in through the back door, not locating Clarke anywhere on the main floor. He stilled, listening carefully of any sign of her.

A few moments passed, and he finally heard something hit the floor… but it wasn’t coming from above him, but below. Bellamy muffled his own groan, furious that he didn’t realize that this house had a basement.

He made his way quietly around the downstairs, scanning the area for the entrance to the basement. He finally found the door, right where a small bookshelf was the last time he was here. He swallowed before opening the door, bracing himself for whatever hell Clarke had in store for him this time.

Clarke was kicking the hell out a punching bag, so invested that she didn’t initially notice Bellamy. Then, the second to last step creaked, and Clarke was reaching for her gun. “Stop, princess,” he warned, and Clarke wiped a bit of sweat from her brow with a murderous look in her eye.

“Stop breaking into my goddamn house,” she hissed, but Bellamy’s attention was divided between her obvious irritation and her walls covered in news articles covering the Wallace’s, linking them with Nia Kingsley’s ambitions, and Diana Sydney’s wallet… “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I am trying to get through to you,” he said, shaking his head as he refocused on her. “It’s time to call of whatever it is you have going on with Cage,” he snapped, and Clarke rolled her eyes at him. “I am serious. That man can kill you with his bare hands. You saw the video!”

“And I could do the same to him if I wanted to,” she retorted, trying to brush past him, but Bellamy gripped her arm, yanking her back.

“Cage Wallace will kill you,” he said more clearly. How could she not get that? His father killed her father in a manner not all that different than how Cage just killed Shumway. Clarke knew what happened to Bellamy’s mother. She was there when Monroe died. She was there when they lost Riley and Atom. She has seen enough death for one lifetime, so how could she not see that she was setting herself up to be next?

“Let go of me,” she said quietly, her murderous eyes glaring up at him.

“Cage Wallace just beat a man to death. You saw it with your own eyes. He was willing to do that just at the chance that he might turn on Sydney. What do you think he will do to you when he finds out what you’re doing to him?” he snapped, and she yanked her arm from his grasp, pushing him back so his back hit the wall, knocking down a few pieces of paper pinned to the wall.

“Why are you so fucking sure that I’m going to fail?” she growled.

“That’s not what I said,” he huffed, trying to push himself off before Clarke shoved him back again. He shot her a warning look.

“You think I’m going to die here in Mt. Weather. That’s what you keep saying,” she groaned. “And you see that Cage Wallace needed two men as back up. He didn’t do the job himself. Do you really think he could kill me so easily?” He opened his mouth to argue, but Clarke slammed her palm over his mouth, clearly not wanting to hear a word he said. “You forget that I’ve been training for the last six years, fully prepared to take care of myself since I had no one left I could depend on to save me,” she hissed, giving him a very pointed glare. “You crawling back here doesn’t change that.”

She broke away from him, but Bellamy grabbed her wrist before she could get too far away. “I know how hard you’ve been training. I’m not trying to insult you, I’m just pointing out that the longer you’re in this, the harder it will be to make it out alive,” he huffed, stopping her other hand when she tried to hit him again. “Do you not see that I am trying to help you?”

“Why?” she shouted, trying to pull away, but he tightened his grip. “You were gone for six years, why the fuck did you decide to come back now?”

“I was gone for six months,” he corrected, “and when I came back you were dead.” He tried not to let his own anger come out at those words, knowing that Clarke had far more reason to be angry with him than he had to be angry with her. But she decided to fake her own death, knowing all too well that Bellamy would one day find out about it. Did she not care about what that would do to him, even if she was angry with him? She let him think that the woman he loved was murdered, something that had haunted him every day for those six years. And now she was here, and he was here, but they weren’t quite Bellamy and Clarke anymore. She was used to being alone, pulling away at every opportunity, untrusting of everyone, maybe even Kane. And he… well, he slipped so far away from himself those six years, letting the loss of his sister and Clarke take over his ability to be rational and calm.

He could have been with Clarke years ago, could have found her earlier, could have made up for leaving by now. Maybe they would never be the Clarke and Bellamy they once were, but they might have been better… less broken at least.

“How could you let me think you were dead?” he shouted without meaning to, and that earned a shove from Clarke. When she tried to hit him again, he dodged out of the way before knocking her backwards, walking her backwards until it was her turn to be up against the wall.

“Didn’t think you would give a shit. You left, remember?” she spat, trying to shove him again, but Bellamy thrust her arms over her head, capturing her wrists in his hands so that she couldn’t hit him again. “Didn’t even have the balls to tell me you were leaving. No, you escaped in the dead of night with just a note to tell me you were gone.” Bellamy clenched his jaw, knowing she was right… but it wasn’t like she would accept an apology from him right now. No, she wasn’t done being pissed at him. “Don’t you have anything to fucking say to me?” she yelled.

“I want you and Kane to go back to the drawing board, to come up with another plan that does not involve throwing you into the line of fire,” Bellamy decided, tentatively letting go of her wrists.

“No,” she said defiantly. He knew that this wouldn’t be easy. He didn’t really know Clarke anymore, not really. There was a point in time where Bellamy would say that he knew her better than he knew himself, but too much time had passed since then. Too many years where Clarke was furious with him, too many years where he was coming to terms with a world where Clarke Griffin was no longer alive.

But there was still one thing he could recognize in those blue eyes of her. “You’re scared of him,” Bellamy whispered calmly. Clarke didn’t get scared often, didn’t blink when danger was thrown at her. But seeing what Cage could do, knowing how easily she could be the target… it scared her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, only barely giving herself away. “Not as scared as you are,” she replied, and a shudder washed through Bellamy. He didn’t break eye contact with her, but he knew that his face gave him away. There was that victorious look in Clarke’s eyes, the result of her pointing out just how much her being in danger was affecting him… as if this were some kind of game.

Did Clarke even care about him anymore? Bellamy hadn’t had much time to process Clarke still being alive. He knew that she cared enough to ask Raven to look for him, but he didn’t know how long ago that was. Him being here clearly affected her, and he wanted to believe that it was because she had some kind of affection left for him… but maybe it wasn’t really enough to overcome the part of her that was furious with him.

But she knew how much she meant to him. She ripped that confession from him in the elevator, giving him everything he wanted before taking it away. She could see how scared he was at the prospect of her getting hurt. She had this leverage over him, and she was taunting him with it.

“You’re right,” he confessed, and she looked annoyed, like he didn’t agree to play her games. Clarke wanted him to fight back, and he would… just not on her terms.

He leaned forward, closing the distance between them as he slammed his lips into hers. She whined against his lips, pushing back slightly, but he fought her, keeping his lips firm against hers. Eventually, he felt her arms wrap up around his neck, such a soft gesture… followed by the sharp tug of his curls to yank his head back. “The fuck you think you’re doing?” she hissed with a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“You know what I’m doing,” he smirked, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. Before she could pull anything else, Bellamy lunged forward, sucking just below her jawline… earning the same soft sigh he remembered well. “Tell me,” he murmured right into her ear, “that you don’t want me. Say it.”

Her body stilled, but her breathing became heavier as he continued his assault on her neck, savoring the taste of her skin as he made his way down to her collarbone. “Say it,” he whispered again. If she just said it, he’d back off. But the longer she went without saying it made him think he had a fighting chance.

Then, she pushed him off her, still not saying the words as she walked him back against one of the decks, her hands making fast work of undoing his pants. “I take it you—”

“Shut up,” she snapped before capturing his lips with hers, biting down hard on his bottom lip, earning an involuntary whimper from him. He started tugging at the hem of her tank, and she started biting down his neck as soon as she let him take her shirt off, her hand still cupping his cock through his boxers.

“I still want you to say it,” he teased, and she kissed him again just to shut him up, her fingers now tugging at his hair furiously.

When she pulled his head back, her eyes were dark, less murderous but still angry with him. “Stop talking,” she warned, and now he knew he was starting to get into her head.

“Make me,” he teased, and with a groan, she pulled him away from the table. He grabbed her by the waist, holding her tight against him as he kissed her again, this time taking his time with it, mapping out every inch of her mouth with his tongue.

He fought the urge he had to tell her he loved her, even though his mind was screaming it. Even touching her like this, even when she hates him, was enough to make it feel like those six years never happened, that she was still his. He loved her just as desperately now, but he knew he couldn’t say that to her.

When she parted from his lips, her pupils were blown, breathing heavily as she ordered him to lie down. He didn’t even hesitate to do as she asked, desperate to get his hands back on her. She stumbled out of her leggings quickly, climbing on top of him with a dark look in her eyes that probably matched his own. She was determined as she pulled his pants and boxers down enough to free his throbbing cock.

Bellamy threw his head back as her center grazed his cock. “Don’t you fucking tease me,” he pleaded.

“Tell me what you want, Bell,” she smirked, reaching back to slowly stroke his cock… her hands feeling so perfect on him.

“Clarke,” he warned.

“If you want me, you have to say it,” she snapped, now pulling her hand off him.

“You already know I want you,” he huffed. She knew he loved her. She knew he was willing to do just about anything to make up for what he did. She just wanted to keep hearing it. Maybe it was part of her little game or maybe she just needed to keep hearing it so that she could one day believe it was true… so Bellamy was going to keep saying it. “I want you. God, I want you.”

Her hand started stroking his cock again, but she made no move to do anything else. He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to ask for something else… but she seemed reluctant to go as far as she did in the elevator. He took this moment of hesitation to roll them over, throwing Clarke onto her back as he climbed over her. His hand settled on top of her pussy, not quite doing anything yet, as he savored the way Clarke’s lips parted. “It’s your turn, princess,” he teased, applying a bit of friction to her clit. She writhed beneath him, trying to get more friction that he was willing to give to her. “No, that’s not how this works. You have to say it, too.”

Her eyes widened at him, and he teased a finger into her before taking it out quickly. “Say it,” he snapped, and she bit her lip. “If you don’t say it, I’m gonna have to stop,” he smirked, tapping his fingers against her warm pussy. “And I can feel how much you don’t want me to stop,” he teased, before bringing one of his fingers up to his lips to taste her. “Say it.”

“I want you,” she finally snapped, and he plunged his finger back inside of her, heat rising to his cheeks as he watched Clarke throw her head back at the sensation.

“That’s it,” he murmured, thrusting his finger in and out of her. “This what I got to do to make you listen to me?”

“No, shut up,” she groaned, and he thrust a second finger inside of her, earning a beautiful whine from the back of Clarke’s throat.

“I had to leave. I’ll tell you why as soon as I know I can trust you,” he snapped, even though that wasn’t entirely fair. He knew that Clarke wouldn’t use the truth about Octavia for anything… she wasn’t that kind of person. But in her current fury, he couldn’t open up to her about what happened all those years ago. It was the kind of thing he never talked about, the one thing he really needed Clarke for when he lost Octavia again. And she was gone. “But you had to stay behind. I knew you would come with me if I told you, and you just couldn’t. You know that.”

“I said shut up,” she snapped, and he started pumping his fingers even faster just to keep her from interrupting again.

“God, you take my fingers so well, princess. Almost as well as you’re gonna take my cock,” he teased, and Clarke’s eyes fluttered shut again as she squirmed against his hand. “I hated myself for leaving you behind, still do.”

“Not enough to stop you, apparently,” she snapped, and he pulled his fingers out all the way. “I at least deserved a goodbye.”

“Clarke,” he said seriously as she sat up, pushing him back down on his back.

“I loved you, and you didn’t even say goodbye,” she growled as she straddled his lap. Her blue eyes were boring into his, more hurt than angry… and Bellamy felt a sharp pang in his chest. That was the first time he heard those words from her in six years, and it was in past tense.

“Please,” he found himself begging, but he didn’t know what quite for.

“Stop talking,” she snapped, shaking her head quickly. Then, satisfied that he wasn’t going to keep talking, she began grinding on him, and he could feel how soaking wet she was for him. He was teasing her earlier, not giving her the release she was craving… and now she needed him.

“Fuck me,” he pleaded. “Just use me, Clarke,” he whispered, watching as she lined herself up with his cock. Slowly, she sank down on him, and his eyes slammed shut. She was too warm, too tight around him… and if he wasn’t careful, this would be over too soon.

His groans were coming out strangled, desperate for her to speed up. He finally gave in and let his hands rest on her ass, guiding her to fuck him faster. When he gave in and thrust up into her, a loud moan erupted from Clarke.

She was beautiful, like always. Her breasts bouncing a bit as she rose and fell on his cock, her lips parted, her hair a mess. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to see Clarke like this again, and it wasn’t just because she was still furious with him. His mind drifted back to Cage Wallace and what he would do to Clarke if he ever found out what she was up to, and the thought of losing Clarke all over again when he just found her… it destroyed him.

Bellamy knew that the paths he and Clarke had taken early on were dangerous ones, and he didn’t used to care. Then, he fell in love with Clarke, and he started thinking about his life once the Wallace’s were dealt with… the life he could have with her. That was before he left and before she died… and this was the first time he had thought about his and their future again.

He wasn’t going to let Clarke lose her future again. No, it was out of the question. She already died once, and Bellamy might as well have died with her.

“Come on. I’m almost there,” she murmured desperately, and his eyes shot up to hers. He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Clarke tight around him… trying to pretend that he wasn’t on her basement floor. No, he tried picturing them back in their bed at the compound… well, her bed. He would always sneak into her room, unable to sleep in his own bed. “Bell, please,” she whined, and it might as well come directly out of one of his memories of them with how soft her voice was.

He felt her pulse around his cock and heard her voice catch, and it was just too much. Bellamy was lost, muttering out incoherent words and phrases as he fell apart inside her.

Chapter Text

The hardest part of Bellamy disappearing all those years ago was having to remember it each morning when she woke up. It took months for her to stop sleepily reaching for him, only to panic when there was no one beside her… and there were still mornings where she did it anyway.

Luckily, this morning, she didn’t put herself through that particular form of heartbreak. She turned off her alarm and rolled over, arguing she could get a few more minutes of sleep… only for her eyes to jerk open wide at the sight of Bellamy Blake asleep next to her.

The memories of last night flooded back into her mind as she stumbled out of bed and ran into her bathroom. She slept with him, in every sense of the word. And for some reason… he stayed over?

She started the shower, hoping that noise would wake him up and he would slip out, saving her having to deal with him being in her house.

She took a longer shower than usual, scrubbing every inch of her clean as if it would somehow undo the very stupid thing she did last night. Clarke was already confused enough about Bellamy being back here, and he didn’t exactly clear much up last night. There seems to be “good” reason for him leaving, whatever it might be, and he apparently couldn’t tell Clarke because she would want to go with him.

Allegedly, he was going to come back after six months… which didn’t quite make sense to her either. If he was just going to leave for six months, he could have just told her that he would come back. It wasn’t like Clarke was unreasonable, nor would she just abandon Bellamy just because there was something he had to go do.

Then, she remembered how he yelled at her about faking her death, asking how she could do that to him… and the fury rose back to Clarke’s cheeks. He wasn’t even a factor in that decision. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back, and when Clarke’s mother was almost murdered, it seemed like the best thing for Clarke to do was to remove the target from her own back. No one would look for a Griffin if they thought she was dead.

The only time she thought of Bellamy during that decision-making process was when she was considering if she wanted Bellamy to be able to find her. Leaving a breadcrumb for him to find was a risk… or at least that’s what she argued. It was a fair argument, of course. Someone other than Bellamy could have picked up on it and found Clarke. But that wasn’t what Clarke was really scared of. She was scared that she would leave a clue for him, but he wouldn’t bother to look for it.

She stepped out of the shower, shaking away the thoughts about what would have happened if she had left something for him to find. That didn’t matter anymore. It’s not what happened, and there was nothing she could do now to change that.

She finished getting ready, taking extra time to flat-iron her hair and picking out an appropriate outfit for breakfast at the Wallace’s. She held her breath when she stepped back into her room, seeing Bellamy still asleep in her bed… and she wasn’t sure how she felt about the sight. She didn’t know how she felt about last night, except that it was a mistake.

“Bellamy,” she said, and he groggily picked his head up.

“Why are you all dressed up?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Breakfast with Dante Wallace,” she said, and he became more alert at that. “When you leave, use the back door and make sure no one sees you.”

“Clarke,” he huffed, and she tucked her gun into her purse. “Don’t go. I am serious. This is too risky.” She furrowed her eyebrows. She knew he meant that. After all, he has nothing to gain if Clarke doesn’t succeed. In fact, he has every reason to want Clarke to go through with this… which means him asking her not to is about her safety and her safety alone.

“I’m going through with the plan,” she decided. She had years to argue with this plan, and it was her best shot. It was her connection to Cage that led her to Shumway’s office. She has access to documents and information that she would never get her hands on otherwise. More importantly, she was a harmless little schoolteacher in their eyes, meaning they won’t see the kind of damage she can do from the inside until it was too late.

Besides, Clarke didn’t have time to come up with another plan. Dante was about to rig another election, but this time, a much more important one. Nia would get her spot on the Supreme Court, and Diana Sydney would own the most powerful man in the country. What losses Clarke and the people she worked with faced would be nothing compared to the kind of damage that Dante could inflict from that office. They had to stop him before he got that chance.

“Either get on board, or get out of my way,” Clarke finished before leaving her room, trying to shake the image of Bellamy in her bed out of her head as she made her way down the stairs.

It took the whole drive to Dante’s for Clarke to calm down, deciding to just set the Bellamy issue aside for when Clarke actually had the time to fall apart for an entire day. She was back on track when she rang the doorbell, smiling sweetly as she was guided toward the dining room where Dante was waiting for her.

“There you are!” he said, jumping up from his seat and pulling her into a hug. “Cage is running a bit late, but he said we could go ahead and start without him.”

“You have a lovely home,” she replied as she took the seat beside him, per his gesturing. She looked around the table, noticing there was only place settings for three people. Cage hadn’t exactly given her a lot of details about this breakfast, but she had assumed that it was going to be more than just her and the Wallace men.

“I am actually kind of glad Cage is running late. It gives us more of a chance to get to know each other,” he said.

“I feel like I already know you quite well, Mr. Governor,” she replied, earning a chuckle from him.

“Well, then I just need to get to know you, then… just to be fair,” he joked, and she kept a smile plastered on her face as she reached for the coffee in front of her. “Where did you go to school?”

“Arkadian College, majored in Education and minored in Fine Art.”

“That’s right. I vaguely recall Marcus mentioning that,” he said, nodding along. “How old were you when Marcus first adopted you?”

“I was a teenager, actually,” she replied, which wasn’t a complete lie. He furrowed his eyebrows at that, and Clarke heard the front door opening, likely Cage.

“So, do you actually remember what happened to your parents? If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine,” he said carefully, but Clarke waved off his concern.

“I don’t really remember my father passing, but I was old enough to remember my mother,” she lied, and he nodded along.

“That must have been so hard for you,” he said in the most sincere voice he could manage, the same one she saw in all those interviews and speeches over the years… as if this weren’t the same monster who had her father taken out when he figured out how Dante Wallace won that first election.

“You have no idea,” Clarke replied right as Cage walked in, kissing Clarke’s cheek on his way to his seat.

“Sorry I was late,” he apologized, and Clarke’s eyes fell to his slightly bruised knuckles.

“What happened to your hand?” Clarke asked, reaching across the table to hold it. She ignored the flashes to the video she watched last night, the painful reminder that the hand she was holding onto was the one that ended Shumway’s life. It was the same hand that would likely kill her if she wasn’t careful… and she could hear Bellamy’s words creeping back into her head. He will try to kill you.

“Someone had a little too much to drink last night,” Dante interjected with a smirk, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at Cage. “Took a little fall. You really should be more careful.”

“You could have really hurt yourself,” Clarke said, imitating the kind of concern she probably should have. Cage offered her a weak smile before looking over at his father.

“You know,” Dante said, leaning back in his seat. Clarke looked over at him, noticing the way his eyes were narrowed at her. It was clear that the point of this breakfast was so that he could size her up for himself, but it was still uncomfortable to think about. “We will be attending Shumway’s funeral in a few days. I think you should come with us.” Clarke didn’t miss the way Cage dropped his fork, or how his brows furrowed in frustration at the suggestion.

Clarke looked to Cage with wide eyes, almost challenging him to say no in front of his father. Cage’s eyes drifted to Dante before looking back at Clarke. “I would feel a lot better if you were there,” he lied.

“Then, of course I’ll come,” she smiled sweetly, noticing the approving look that Dante was shooting Cage. She was in.



Clarke tapped on the wheel of her car, feeling a bit too anxious about attending this funeral than she should. It wasn’t like there was any real plan in place for today, just Clarke getting closer and closer to these people. “The timeline is kind of a mess,” Raven explained over the speaker, and Wells nodded along. Clarke let out a sigh, undoing her seatbelt.

“At least Bellamy is willingly giving us information about where he has been for the last few years,” Wells replied, and Clarke bit her lip. Bellamy was the other thing making her anxious. She hadn’t seen him since the morning she woke up in bed beside him, although he had been in her thoughts constantly. She had fessed up to Wells about the incident a few days ago, and he had a lot of opinions on the matter… most of which involved Clarke deciding to give Bellamy a chance to actually talk about what happened between them… but it was easier not knowing why. She learned a long time ago that sometimes the answers to her questions were worse than not knowing. If she opened that particular box, she had no idea what she would find inside. A lot of people had left Clarke in her life, but the difference here was that Bellamy left by choice.

“No, I mean his timeline doesn’t match perfectly with Clarke’s,” Raven huffed, and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows.

“That attorney that you said he killed…”

“Shawn Gillmer,” Clarke answered, the man that sent Aurora packing all those years ago with Bellamy in toe.

“He wasn’t anywhere near him when Gillmer was found dead,” Raven said, and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows, looking out the window. She caught a glimpse of Governor Wallace stepping out of his car, followed by Cage, both wearing dark suits and somber expressions.

“Then, his timeline is completely false. There is literally no one else alive who has motive to kill Shawn Gillmer,” Clarke mused. There were many people on Clarke’s list who needed to be taken out, and he was certainly one of them… but he wasn’t high enough on the list to be a target. The only reason someone would target him is if it was personal, which for Bellamy it was.

“It’s not just that incident, Clarke. You circled a whole bunch of things that you thought Bellamy was behind, and for almost every single one of them he claimed to be somewhere else,” Raven argued, and Wells nudged Clarke’s elbow. Clarke raised a challenging eyebrow at him because she knew she wasn’t wrong. For some reason, Bellamy didn’t want her to know that he was behind the other incidents. And she intended to figure out why.

“What do you mean by almost?” Wells asked, and Clarke started changing out of her flats into much more painful heels.

A knocking on Clarke’s window snapped her back into focus, and Wells hung up the phone quickly. Cage opened her car door for her, offering her his hand, almost like a gentleman. She tried not to cringe when she took his hand, and it was harder once she was out of the car and his hand fell to her back. Wells followed quickly behind them, falling into an easy conversation with Cage as they walked up to the church.

The turnout was much larger than Clarke expected, especially considering that Shumway had been arrested not even a week ago. But any stories linking him to Diana Sydney had been buried in the media, shifting public opinion to be skeptical about his actual charges. Clarke should have known better. They’ve done this before.

She faked her way through her condolences to the family, ignoring the guilt she felt as she spoke with them. Shumway was no saint. He wasn’t an innocent in all of this. But someone just lost their father too, and they probably wouldn’t ever know the real reason he died.

She hoped to sit next to Wells or Marcus at the funeral, but Dante seated her between him and Cage. She took deep breaths during the service, ignoring how trapped she felt between these two men. She ignored just how many people were here, too many people for her to keep a good eye on the situation. If there was a threat in the room, she might not find it until it was too late. And that scared the hell out of her.

When everyone bowed their heads to pray, Clarke snuck a glance around the room… not quite sure what she was looking for. Maybe she’d find a threat or decide that there wasn’t one. Maybe she’d see Wells scanning the room, which would make her feel safer.

But instead, she locked eyes with Bellamy Blake, sitting in the very back, and she let out a breath. He broke eye contact first, surveying the room like he always used to, and Clarke turned away from him… feeling relieved.

It slowly became easier to focus on the eulogy, to deal with Cage holding her hand, to be surrounded by people who would slit her throat if they ever figured out she was Jake Griffin’s daughter… because she knew Bellamy was watching out for her.

At least for today.

She got through the burial pretty painlessly, although Dante started checking up on her more frequently, commenting how hard funerals must be for her… and she wanted to bash his head into a brick wall.

Diana Sydney hosted a wake at one of her homes, which Clarke was inevitably forced to attend. Dante introduced her to literally anyone he could, singing her praises as if he had known her all her life. It wasn’t news to her that the Wallace family was going to use her for political gain, but she hadn’t considered how it would feel.

It took at least an hour for Clarke to get a moment of peace, where she promptly went to grab a glass of wine. She was halfway through her glass when Echo decided to stand beside her. “You sure you really want to get involved with Cage?” she asked quietly, and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. As she saw it, Echo worked for Nia, which meant she basically worked for Dante and Cage.

“Of course,” Clarke lied, and Echo’s lips twitched.

“I’d be careful,” she whispered, taking a step closer to Clarke. “He might seem charming now, but there’s a whole side of him that he keeps hidden.” Clarke swallowed, knowing exactly the side of him that Echo was referring to. “And he has a lot of friends that keep certain things hidden. If you ever look up his relationship history, you’ll find it’s all been buried.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Clarke asked, especially since Nia would have been the one to help Dante bury anything about Cage.

Echo looked away for a moment, and Clarke followed the direction of her eyes to Roan across the room, who had a worried expression on his face as he glanced over at them. Whatever it is that Echo knows about Cage, Roan must know too… he knows what they are talking about, and Clarke took a longer gulp of her wine. “You deserve to know what you’re getting into, Clarke,” she said, before slipping something into her hand and walking away.

Clarke set her glass down to sneak a glance at the piece of paper in her hand, containing two different phone numbers. She double checked that no one was watching her before she slipped into the hallway. Once she was inside the bathroom, she texted the two phone numbers to Raven, asking her to look into who they belong to. She let out a breath. Nothing that Echo just implied was anything that surprised Clarke. But it still didn’t little to mask the shock of hearing it… in addition to hearing it from Echo, who had risked a lot sharing that with Clarke. And then there was the obvious fact that Roan not only knew about all of this, but he also knew and possibly encouraged Echo to talk to Clarke about it.

When Raven said she was on it, Clarke tucked her phone away and slipped back out to the wake. Wells walked up to her, whispering, “So, a few of the guys that Bellamy works with is here. To your right by the clock is Miller.”

Clarke snuck a quick glance, recognizing him from the service. He’s the one who is going to work for Diana Sydney. “John Murphy just slipped out, but just assume that if you run into someone who constantly looks like he wants to murder someone but also seems bored, that’s him,” Wells said, and Clarke spotted Dante waving over to her. With a sigh, she made her way over, bringing Wells along because if she was going to suffer, she’d rather not do it alone.

“Clarke, we were just talking about you,” Dante grinned, and Clarke pretended to be touched by his words. Marcus was beside him, keeping his face pretty neutral.

“Only good things, I hope,” she replied.

“No promises,” Marcus teased, and Clarke actually laughed this time. “Anyway, Dante, I really do think he would do well with your early campaign work. I could introduce you.”

Clarke’s stomach dropped, because she knew exactly who they were talking about. “I don’t want to steal your newest hire, but he really does sound like the kind of passionate person I would like to have helping me out this campaign season.”

“Well, you would also kind of be doing me a favor. I hired him when I was under the impression that one of my managers was about to retire, but then he pushed that back, so I really don’t have the open position that I offered Mr. Blake. And he is already a very passionate supporter of you, Governor Wallace,” Marcus grinned, and Clarke stole a glance at Wells, who looked just as thrown by this development. Why was Kane constantly making plans with Bellamy and not telling them? Was it because he knew Clarke would be against it?

She tried to pay attention as they negotiated with each other, but her mind was going in too many directions. This didn’t even seem like the kind of plan Bellamy would go for. But did she even know what kind of plans Bellamy would go for anymore? She doesn’t know him anymore. It’s been six years since she last saw him, and according to Raven, Clarke might be completely wrong about what he had been up to in that time. The familiar and the new with him kept weaving in and out, making it hard for Clarke to read him properly.

Eventually, Bellamy made his way toward them, extending his hand to Dante first, before reintroducing himself to Clarke. “I believe you and I met last week,” he said, his eyes heavy as he looked at her.

“Yes, Nia introduced us,” Clarke remembered with a grin.

“And then there was that elevator ride,” he added in, and Clarke nodded along, cringing as Dante gestured for Bellamy to follow him so that they could talk.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Clarke whispered to Kane as soon as they were out of earshot. “I’m the one supposed to be getting closer to Wallace’s, not Bellamy.”

“Bellamy isn’t doing this to get in with the Wallace’s, Clarke,” he replied, almost rolling his eyes as he spoke. “Someone needs to be close enough to the situation to recognize if we need to get you out.”

“And that someone couldn’t have been Wells?” she muttered, and Kane narrowed his eyes at her.

“If you had heard the way Bellamy was talking about keeping you safe, you’d agree that he is the best man for the job,” he snapped, and Clarke’s jaw clenched. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have real work to do,” he huffed as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started to step outside, likely to have another check in with his informant.

She hardly had a moment to think before she felt Cage’s arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him.



Clarke contemplated picking the lock. After all, it’s what he did to her… twice. But instead, she forced herself to knock. It took less than a minute for Bellamy to open his door with a confused expression on his face as Clarke brushed past him into his apartment. “Tell Wallace you’ve reconsidered his offer,” she snapped, as he put in the deadbolt.

“Did anyone see you come up here?” he asked.

“No,” she said, rolling her eyes. She wasn’t new to this. She knew how to get around people and cameras unnoticed.

“Wouldn’t want your boyfriend to find out you’re cheating on him with me, huh?” he smirked, and Clarke clenched her jaw.

“Call Dante right now and tell him you’ve reconsidered,” she ordered, and he ran his fingers through his curls. He was still wearing his suit from earlier, his tie loosened, and the top button of his shirt unbuttoned.

“You know I’m not going to do that, princess,” he replied.

“Why are you being like this? I’ve asked you to back away from this, and you’re still here, inserting yourself into my plan,” she huffed.

“It used to be our plan, Clarke.”

“Yeah, and then you left,” she shouted, refraining from hitting him this time. His jaw twitched at her words, but he made no movement toward her either.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Clarke’s eyes fell to the ground, unable to take that look he was giving her right now. “I will tell Dante I reconsidered the offer as soon as you call things off with Cage.”

Clarke furrowed her eyebrows as she glared at him. Great, he was back to telling her this was a bad plan and that she was going to die, as if she didn’t already have that in the back of her head. “You’re being ridiculous,” she muttered.

“No, I’m using your logic. Why have only one person this far in the Wallace inner circle when we could have two? You work Cage, I work Dante,” he said, stepping slowly toward her. “Best case scenario, we get this done in half the time and I get you the fuck out of here sooner, worst case scenario, I’ll be ready to get you out if someone finds out who you are or what you’re doing.”

She tried to pick apart his argument, but the only thing she could come up with was the question of why it had to be Bellamy in this with her. And she already knew that she couldn’t make a good enough point to dissuade either Bellamy or Marcus on this… leaving her out of luck.

She crossed her arms as she leaned against the wall. A smirk formed on Bellamy’s lips. “Stop, I’m still furious with you,” she growled.

“For which thing? That I crashed the funeral, went behind your back to work for Dante, or led you to cheat on your boyfriend?” he smirked, taking another step toward her.

“That night never happened. It was a mistake,” she reminded, and he raised his eyebrows.

“You say it was a mistake, and yet you are here in my apartment this late at night,” he smirked, and she swallowed. He got even closer to her, and Clarke sucked in a breath. “And I know that fake boyfriend of yours isn’t taking care of you like I could,” he whispered, and Clarke felt frozen.

“I should go,” she said weakly as Bellamy closed the distance between them, trapping Clarke between him and the wall.

“Yeah, you probably should,” he whispered right into her ear, his hand resting on her side just below her breasts. 

“Just because I’m not arguing with you about you working for Dante doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly okay with everything,” she stuttered out.

“I am very aware of that, Clarke,” he sighed but didn’t pull away. His hand felt heavier against her, the warmth radiating through her dress. She hated how good it felt to have his hands on her. She hated how relieved she felt when she realized he was at the church earlier. She hated that she felt safer because she knew he was watching out for her.

She hated that her heart was screaming for her to just give in, when her mind knew what could happen if she did. She couldn’t let him in again, no matter how desperately she wanted to. She couldn’t tell him how hard it was to go to that funeral, even though he might be the only person who really understands the reasons why. She couldn’t give him an opening for him to get closer to her, not when it still felt like yesterday when he left.

She opened her mouth, determined to ask him why he left her, to ask how it was so easy to leave her, to ask if he thought about her as much as she thought about him… but instead she muttered, “I have to go,” as she pushed him off her, practically sprinting toward his door.

She made it all the way to her car before the tears escaped, pounding her hands angrily against the dashboard because she was such a coward. He would literally tell her the truth if she asked him, but she was too scared to ask him. She had lived six years without answers and made peace with the fact that she would never know what was so damn important that Bellamy left her. And now the answer to the question that had been lurking in every corner of her mind was right at her fingertips… and she ran.

Chapter Text

He stayed at his hotel for one more night. There was no point in chasing Octavia tonight… it wasn’t like he was going to catch her. He had been playing this game with her for months, and she always slipped away because she didn’t want to be found.

The darkest part of Bellamy knew that there was nothing he could do at this point, but the part of him that vividly remembers naming her, who remembers what it was like before his mother died, who remembers what a happy family felt like… that part of him just couldn’t let it go.

He shook his head as he plopped down on his bed. He needed to let Octavia go, that much was clear. He had seen how far she had fallen when she took that shot; she didn’t even blink when she did it. That John Murphy kid had warned him that no matter how hard Bellamy tried, he wasn’t getting his sister back. She wasn’t like how Bellamy and Clarke were. No, he and Clarke recognized that murder wasn’t the answer to their problems. It wouldn’t be enough to take out Dante Wallace or Diana Sydney. No, everyone involved needed to fall, meaning they had to do this the right way.

Octavia didn’t see it that way, nor did she listen enough to get the whole story. She was just angry. She was angry her mother died. She was angry her brother kept her hidden for so long. She was angry that Bellamy kept her in the dark for years.

Bellamy knew he couldn’t keep this up. He couldn’t keep hunting down a sister who wanted nothing to do with him, desperately trying to save her from herself when she didn’t want to be saved. He didn’t regret trying, but he should have anticipated that he left Clarke for nothing.

He pulled his laptop onto his lap, figuring he might as well go back to trying to figure out where Clarke and Kane had disappeared to. From what he could tell, they ditched the compound not long after Bellamy disappeared, which was probably a smart move. If Bellamy fell into the wrong hands and somehow gave them up, it was better that they moved locations.

He froze when he read the first headline when he looked up Clarke’s actual name, blinking a few times to make sure he was reading this right. No, this couldn’t be right. None of the monsters from Mt. Weather should have been able to find her.

He clicked article after article, ignoring the narrative the reporters manipulated about the tragedy that became the once powerful Griffin family, instead looking for details. Not much was reported since not much was known… but it felt so eerily familiar. The murderer was still at large. The death was quick and painless, according to the autopsy. A classic case of someone being in the wrong place at the wrong time… But Clarke was never in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No, this was a cover up, one that he was all too familiar with. The Wallace’s had something to do with this.

Bellamy threw his laptop across the room, fighting every urge he had to scream. Clarke was killed, and he wasn’t there. He left her behind… and he lost her for good.

Bellamy snapped himself out of that horrible memory, ignoring the muffled sound of Clarke’s fake giggling out in the backyard. “Can I see what you have so far?” Bellamy asked, desperate for anything to get him distracted.

Emerson let out a huff, sliding the laptop across the table to him. Bellamy leaned over, seeing the rather lengthy speech that Dante would be delivering. He ignored the way that Emerson seemed to be annoyed that Bellamy breathed in the same room as him. From what Bellamy could tell, he wasn’t happy about Dante hiring him, obviously feeling like Bellamy was somehow stepping in on his work. Bellamy did his best to be accommodating for his terrible mood, trying to be as invisible as possible.

When the door opened, Bellamy let out a breath, thankful for another body in this room that will lessen the obviousness of Emerson’s disdain for him. “Where the fuck is Cage?” Roan asked, and Bellamy’s head popped up, offering him a wave.

“Out back with Clarke,” Emerson replied, and Roan’s eyes shifted toward the back window, a strange expression on his face.

“They’re still together?” he asked, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows at him. There was something off about his tone. It wasn’t quite as casual as he was trying to make it out to be, which was odd…

“Yeah, he seems pretty sure this one is the one,” Emerson muttered, snatching his laptop back from Bellamy.

Bellamy let his eyes look up at the window, catching sight of Cage right as he kissed Clarke… and Bellamy felt like he was going to be sick. Clarke was literally in the arms of a man who has killed people with his bare hands, and there wasn’t a damn thing Bellamy could do about it.

When Bellamy turned away, he caught a glimpse of Roan… whose face had gone pale as he kept his eyes fixed on the window. “Uh, okay, yeah,” he stuttered out when he realized that they were watching him. “I just had to ask because you know how Cage is with his girlfriends,” he shrugged, and Bellamy redirected his eyes to the papers in front of him, trying to hide his nervous expression before someone noticed that he seemed pretty concerned about a girl he once shared an elevator with.



Bellamy found himself watching Roan more. He had found out that Clarke had some strange interaction with Echo that she thinks was on Roan’s behalf… well, he didn’t find out through Clarke directly. He ended up finding out from Murphy, who had been told by Wells who had too much to drink at the time. He noticed that Roan’s eyes kept drifting toward Cage and Clarke when they were standing together. Roan knew something, that much Bellamy was sure of.

He noticed him make a very subtle signal, tapping the side of his glass in a rhythmic and specific pattern… and Echo appeared by his side just moments later. The two of them checked to see if anyone was watching, before slipping out onto the back patio, where it was a bit too chilly for the rest of the guests to venture.

Bellamy made his way toward the Wallace basement, mumbling something to Ontari about leaving his phone down there when he was printing off a clean copy of the speech. He used the back door of the basement, leading him to the backyard where he stood just a few feet below where Roan and Echo had slipped off to. He closed the door quietly, hearing Echo list off all the different events that she had seen Cage and Clarke at together.

“Are you sure you wrote down the right numbers?” Roan huffed, and Bellamy heard a small shuffling of steps. “Or maybe you could talk to her again.”

“No, you talk to her. I was very clear. Any girl with any brains would know what kind of thing I’m talking about,” Echo snapped, and he heard her slam her drink down on the patio table. “That girl isn’t stupid. Trust me on that.”

“Echo, I can’t do this again,” Roan murmured, and Bellamy bit his lip. “I won’t do this again.”

“We don’t have a choice,” she whispered, and a chill went up Bellamy’s spine. “We probably won’t have to, though. Look, it seems serious. I think Dante is pushing for it to be, anyway. And Dante tends to get what he wants. So, Clarke is going to stick around for a long time.”

“That’s what I’m scared of.”

Someone else stepped onto the patio, breaking them out of their conversation, and Bellamy used this chance to slip back inside. Emerson walked out of one of the offices in the basement, shooting Bellamy a questioning look. “I just needed somewhere quiet to hide for a moment. It’s a little overwhelming up there,” Bellamy stuttered out, though it wasn’t really a lie. Emerson nodded, before making his way toward the stairs… not bothering to lock the office door behind him.

Bellamy stood there for a moment, Roan and Echo’s bizarre conversation being pushed to the back of his mind for now… he scanned the room quickly, looking for any cameras. Monty figured out that there were cameras in every room on the main floor and a vast majority of the rooms on the second floor… but as far as Bellamy knew, there were none down here. It made sense. There needed to be some space inside this house that couldn’t produce video evidence.

As soon as he heard the door to the basement at the top of the stairs shut, Bellamy crept toward the office. It was a relatively clean space, one that Bellamy would get a brief glance into while working down here with the other campaign staff.

Reaching into his back pocket, he removed a small USB drive from his wallet and stepped toward the computer. He wasn’t going to really go through anything, since he had no idea how long he had before someone would come down here to get something.

He started copying files with names he recognized. There seemed to be a file folder for everyone in Dante’s circle: Nia, Roan, Cage, Diana Sydney, Shumway, Kane… Jake Griffin.

He was about to close out when he saw a file in the corner for Shawn Gillmer. A momentary panic seized Bellamy until he remembered that he had covered Octavia’s tracks. There was no way Dante and Emerson knew what really happened to that attorney.

There was a creak in the steps, so Bellamy copied the Gillmer file quickly before yanking out the USB and heading back out of the office… just seconds before Cage Wallace emerged from the top of the stairs, an angry expression on his face. “Is everything alright, Mr. Wallace?” Bellamy asked, and the calm mask moved over Cage’s face quickly as he forced a smile onto his face.

“Yes, of course,” he lied, narrowing his eyes at Bellamy. “I didn’t realize someone would be down here.”

“I will leave. I just came down here to get a few moments of quiet. I’m not used to events like this,” Bellamy lied, and Cage nodded along. Bellamy mumbled out a goodbye as he made his way past Cage and back up the stairs, hoping that Cage couldn’t hear how loudly his heart was pounding at the prospect of almost getting caught.

The party was still in full swing on the main floor, and Bellamy ducked in the corner where Kane and Miller were standing. “I have a present for you,” Bellamy whispered, carefully putting the USB drive into Kane’s hand.

“What is on here?” Kane whispered, tucking it into his pocket so nonchalantly that no one but the three of them would notice what was actually happening.

“Files from Carl Emerson’s computer,” Bellamy murmured, and Miller raised his eyebrows, as if to ask why Bellamy was giving it to Kane before Monty… but this was part of the deal with Kane. If Bellamy wanted to be in on the plan, he went directly to Kane from now on. No more fuck ups. Not after what happened to Shumway. “I also overheard an interesting conversation between Roan and Echo.”

Marcus’ eyes widened slightly at that before he remembered to appear calm. Quietly, Bellamy filled him in on what he heard, but Marcus didn’t seem fully surprised by it. “Echo approached Clarke, basically warning her about her safety when it comes to Cage,” he explained, and Bellamy’s eyes located Clarke across the room. She was in the middle of a very animated conversation with that Charles Pike fellow, looking far more relaxed than she should be given her circumstances. “Raven looked into the phone numbers she gave her. One of them was the number of a specialist,” he explained, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows.

“What kind of specialist?” Miller asked.

“The kind that make you disappear if you need to run from someone,” Kane replied. “It’s actually someone who used to work for the woman who helped Aurora get out of Mt. Weather.”

Bellamy clenched his jaw, watching Cage reemerge from the basement and walk up to Clarke, his hand possessively wrapping around her waist. “What was the other phone number?” Bellamy growled.

“It belongs to a name we recognize as one of Roan Kingsley’s aliases,” he whispered, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows. Bellamy bit his lip, searching now for Roan. It was clear that Roan and Echo knew a lot about Cage Wallace, knew a lot about a few of his darker secrets, knew enough to be scared for Clarke’s safety… and clearly, they felt guilty for whatever part they’ve played in it.

Nia hitched her wagon to Dante long ago, seeing her one opportunity to make it to the Supreme Court. That made her uniquely obligated to help Dante in whatever way she could… and someone like her could make a lot of trouble Cage Wallace has gotten into go away.

“I think we need to focus on Nia Kingsley,” Bellamy whispered, and Kane pressed his lips together. “She might be our weakest link. Obviously, she has been keeping Cage out of getting into trouble for the stunts he’s pulled. If we can take her down, we might be able to get both of the Wallace’s at once.”

Miller was about to protest but shut his mouth as soon as Clarke started walking over. “Is something wrong?” she murmured, scanning the three of them before locking eyes with Bellamy.

“It’s nothing that we can’t discuss later tonight,” Marcus jumped in, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. “We have new files to go over anyway.” That caught her suspicion.



Bellamy wasn’t able to return to his apartment building until close to two in the morning. Emerson apparently had no problem with piling duties onto Bellamy, keeping him trapped at the Wallace house all night. He was almost dead on his feet as he approached his door, only becoming alert again when he saw the door was already open.

He got his gun out as he nudged the door slowly open, only to see Clarke glaring at him. “Did you seriously break into my apartment just so you could yell about something?” he muttered, getting a sense of déjà vu. It wasn’t long ago that she was last in this apartment, yelling at him about taking the position with Wallace, demanding he back down.

She was still dressed in her dress and heels from the party earlier, her legs crossed as she sat in the armchair. “I am not going to yell at you,” she said carefully, as if she were trying to tell herself that.

“Which thing is it now? Are we back on the me leaving you thing or is it still the me working for Dante thing?” he huffed as he shut the door behind him. He knew he had earned a good bit of Clarke’s rage, but he had been staying away from her as much as possible, giving her space… or at least as much as he could while still keeping an eye on her. He was doing what he could while still keeping her safe. He wasn’t pushing her, he wasn’t demanding that she listen to him anymore… after everything that happened with O, Bellamy should have known better than to try to explain himself to someone who wasn’t ready to listen.

“You got on Emerson’s computer, Bellamy,” she said, her jaw clenched, and Bellamy placed his gun, wallet, and keys on the counter, letting out a sigh. “I saw Cage come out of that basement after you. How close were you to getting caught?”

“I had already gotten what I needed when I heard him on the steps,” he snapped, and Clarke uncrossed her legs and stood up.

“You almost got caught.”

“No, I didn’t,” he huffed, and her jaw ticked. “Clarke, seriously, no one is onto me. Our cover is safe.”

“Have you forgotten about that video of them beating Shumway to death?” she snapped, and her calmness was starting to disappear. Clearly, he hit some kind of nerve but he wasn’t sure what was triggering this reaction for her.

“I dodged Cage. I’m fine,” he repeated, making his voice even calmer in hopes that it would start to calm her down.

“What about Emerson? You know he was one of the others in that video, right?” she snapped, and Bellamy’s jaw clenched. He didn’t know that, but he wasn’t surprised. “You literally got on his computer and stole files. What the fuck were you going to do if he figured it out?”

“He’s not—”

“You’re damn right he’s not, because I went back and wiped down the fucking keyboard. Raven talked me through how to make sure there was no sign of you on that computer. I covered your fucking tracks,” she huffed, and Bellamy swallowed. Okay, maybe he wasn’t being the most responsible earlier, but he was rushed by Cage coming down the steps. “How the hell did you become so reckless? It’s like you aren’t even using your head anymore,” she yelled. “What happened to you?”

You died, he refrained from saying. His sister wanted nothing to do with him, and he lost Clarke after Octavia left him again.  His mother was dead. He couldn’t find Marcus Kane. Bellamy Blake was completely and utterly alone, with no one to miss him if something happened to him. He didn’t have to use his head anymore. He didn’t have to be careful. If he made a fatal mistake, there was no one left who would care… or at least that’s what he let himself think for far too long.

He had heard this lecture from Clarke, probably eight years ago. He made a rash decision on one of their missions because he couldn’t get his temper under control. She verbally ripped him limb from limb about his recklessness, about his nasty temper… and he was furious about having to listen to this princess lecture him about his behavior, especially when she had been nothing but ice cold about everything since they had met, hardly reacting to the horrors around her. This was weeks before he heard her story, months before the week where he had to drag Clarke out of bed, and at least a year before he learned how to read the pain in her eyes.

He could see it in her eyes now, though he wasn’t sure where the pain was coming from specifically. He knew that she was uncomfortable around Cage, that she was still angry and hurt over Bellamy leaving her, that being around the people who turned on her father was starting to get to her… but there was something new here. Something he couldn’t read.

“Emerson keeps his eyes on everyone. He is Dante’s right hand. If you had been caught, you would be dead right now,” she growled, and Bellamy blinked a few times. “You would have been killed tonight, do you not understand that?” she screamed, her voice cracking… and there it was.

“Clarke,” he whispered, taking a step toward her, but she immediately stepped back, turning her head away from him.

“You would have disappeared again and I…” she stuttered, and Bellamy’s face fell. “We,” she corrected, “would have never known if you chose to leave or if you were killed.” She started darting toward the door, just like she did last time, but Bellamy caught her, spinning her around quickly.

“But I didn’t disappear,” he reminded, looking right into her eyes to convince her. He was right here. “I’m here, I’m okay, I’m safe.”

Her blue eyes were wide as she looked back at him, and he could see how hard she was trying to keep herself together. She was scared, and it was all his fault.

He took the risk and reached out to cup her cheek, mentally preparing himself for when she jerked away or told him that he couldn’t do that to her anymore. But instead, her eyes fluttered shut at the gesture before she broke into a sob. He dropped his hand, pulling her tight against him as he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face into his jacket, clutching his lapels as her tears stained his clothes.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, his hand now cradling the back of her head as he gently rocked her. “I’m not leaving again, I promise. Not by choice and not by…” he trailed off, not wanting to even speak those words into existence. He clutched her a bit tighter, already tearing himself apart for hurting her again. He should have known this would scare her, he should never have let himself get to rash in the last few years. Toward the end of those six years, Bellamy wasn’t much better than Octavia was, impulsive, angry, not giving a damn about consequences.

He knew better. Clarke and Kane taught him better. He wanted to be better… and he would be. Clarke might still be furious at him for leaving, but there was a part of her that still longed for him too… and he knows just how much it would hurt her if anything happened to him. He couldn’t do that to her. Clarke had already lost too much… they both have.

He rested his head on top of hers, listening patiently as her breathing started becoming even again. “Why?” she finally whispered, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “Why did you leave me?”

Bellamy fixed his eyes on the wall across from him, terrified to look down at Clarke’s tearstained face. He pulled her a bit tighter against him, bracing himself for how she might respond. “I have a sister,” he said before swallowing.

Clarke’s head popped up and he could feel her eyes widening at him, likely furious that he never told her about this. Kane knew, much to Bellamy’s surprise all those years ago. But Bellamy didn’t yet realize that Kane had a hand in helping his mother escape. Octavia’s existence was unknown to almost everyone, and Bellamy decided long ago that he wouldn’t tell anyone about her unless he absolutely had to. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Clarke. He did. He trusted her with his life. But he also knew how risky it would be to have another person who knew the truth, especially someone at such a high risk as Clarke constantly was. There were too many people looking for her, too many opportunities that Clarke could be taken and interrogated… and he couldn’t risk someone breaking her and finding out about Octavia.

“My mother didn’t terminate the pregnancy,” he said, now closing his eyes because he couldn’t afford to see how Clarke was looking at him now… he would probably break if he did. “We’ve been hiding her for her whole life, and then I took over after my mom was killed.”

Clarke pushed herself out of his arms, and Bellamy turned his head away from her. “When she was finally old enough, I told her a bit about what really happened. Not everything, not anything about Dante Wallace’s involvement because I didn’t even know that much back then,” he explained, running his fingers through his hair, trying to keep his hands busy somehow. “She was really angry, lashed out at me for keeping her in the dark for so long… which was fair, I deserved it.”

“You were protecting her,” Clarke finally said, and Bellamy immediately turned back to look at her. Her eyeliner was smeared, and her eyes were still read, but she was watching him closely. “What happened?”

“She just got angrier and angrier and took it all out on me. I reached out to a family I trusted, asked them to take her in for a while. She needed a stable life while she was going through high school, and I was too much of a mess to be able to give that to her. I mean, you remember how I was when you first met me. I was in no place to raise another person,” he confessed. God, he tried. But he was just a kid himself. And he was so angry himself, wanting to hunt down the son of a bitch who took his mother from him… It was the best decision he could make at the time. “Then, she turned eighteen and took off. I looked for her as best as I could, but let’s just say that we Blakes know how to hide.”

He stole another glance at Clarke, who was clearly trying to figure out how this story ended. “I did literally everything I could to find her, which led me to Marcus Kane and to you… and Kane ultimately found her. I left the very next day,” he said, and Clarke’s eyes fell.

They fell into silence as Clarke looked down at her feet, and Bellamy felt like his heart was about to pound itself out of his chest. “I would have come with you,” she whispered, and his heart nearly shattered at those words. He knew that. God, he knew that. It was what Kane kept coming back to when Bellamy was trying to figure out what to tell Clarke all those years ago. But even now, Bellamy knew Clarke joining him would have been a mistake.

“Clarke, when I found her, she was putting a bullet through her biological father’s skull,” Bellamy said quietly, watching Clarke’s eyes widen with horror. “She was on a mission to avenge our mother’s death, and she was ready to kill anyone who got in her way. You couldn’t have come with me.”

Clarke’s brows furrowed as she took a few steps to the couch, sinking down with a confused look on her face. “I spent months tracking her, cleaning up her messes, trying to bring her to see that this wasn’t the way to get her revenge. But she didn’t want to be found, she didn’t want to be helped, she didn’t want to be saved…”

He waited for Clarke to say something. He waited for her to yell at him for never telling her about his sister. He waited for her to scream and say that she could have helped him. But her mouth was snapped shut as she struggled to process everything he just dropped on her.

“Say something,” he begged, and she swallowed before looking up at him. “Please, Clarke.”

She pressed her lips together, and the strange look in her eyes terrified him. “I understand,” she whispered, and Bellamy let out a breath. “You did what you had to do. I’m proud of you.” His eyes fluttered shut at those words, trying to make sense of her. Her words were exactly what he needed to hear, but there was something cold and distant in her tone that worried him. Then, he heard her get up and his eyes snapped open.

“Clarke,” he said as she started to brush past him.

“I need to go. It’s late,” she muttered, and he grabbed her wrist.

“Clarke,” he said again, more urgently this time. She was saying that she understood why he left and yet she was running away just like last time. He didn’t understand. He needed to understand what it was that kept making her run from him. “What is going on?” he pleaded, turning her around so he could look at her. The tears were starting to form in her eyes again, causing his chest to ache. “I don’t know what I should be telling you. You say that you understand but then you run off the next second?”

“Yeah, I understand. You had a good reason,” she mumbled, closing her eyes as a tear started trailing down her cheek. “You needed to protect your sister…”

“But?” he asked, each second passing without an answer feeling like an eternity.

Her eyes flickered up to his, confusion and sadness mixed into her expression in a way that ripped his heart out. “Knowing why… it doesn’t change the fact that I spent six years completely alone,” she whispered, and his lips parted.

“You had Kane, Wells, and Raven… you weren’t completely al—”

“Yes, I was,” she interrupted. “You can’t let someone in when you are just waiting for them to leave you, Bellamy.”

He shuddered at those words, his hand slipping from her wrist to take her hand in his. He blinked a few times, realizing that he had begun crying too. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say, even though it was inadequate. When he heard Clarke’s sob break, he pulled her back into his chest out of instinct, burying his own face into her shoulder. “I was alone too,” he mumbled. Alone seemed like the perfect word to describe what Bellamy had become. It seemed like the perfect word to describe what he was after his mother died, and the perfect word when he lost Octavia and Clarke all at once.

“I need to go,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy shook his head into her shoulder.

“Please,” he begged. “We shouldn’t have to be alone anymore.”

Her head popped up again, and he was terrified she was about to leave. He pleaded with his eyes for her to stay, God, he needed her to stay. He needed her.

Her eyes were wide as she looked at him, almost nervously. Slowly, her hands fell from the lapels of his jacket and rested on his cheeks. Her hands were soft and warm on his skin, sending small flutters to his chest. He held his breath when her eyes dropped down to his lips… stayed completely frozen as she cautiously stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

The second her lips grazed his, his entire body snapped back into focus, gripping her face between his hands as he kissed her desperately, whimpering into her mouth as her fingers made their way up into his curls. As they clung to each other and crashed their lips against each other, his mind was overwhelmed by the fact that this was Clarke right here in his arms. She was alive and safe, and he couldn’t lose her again. No, he couldn’t lose Clarke. He wouldn’t survive being alone again.

His kisses were desperate pleas for her to stay, not just now, but forever. He knew they were both broken, but that’s how they fell together before. They were broken when they found each other, and they slowly put each other back together again. They could do it again… he would do whatever he had to if it meant they could do it again.

When their lips parted, they were both gasping for breath. Both their eyes were still tearful, but he did the best he could to push the tears from Clarke’s rosy cheeks. “Will you stay with me?” he begged, resting his forehead against hers. Slowly, she nodded, and he pressed a much slower kiss to her lips.

He slid his hand behind her legs, picking her up bridal style as she buried her face into his neck. He made sure the front door was locked before carrying her back into his room. She pulled his face down to meet hers as he tried to lay her down, peppering his face with soft little kisses… and he wondered how he went so long without this, how he even survived losing his beautiful girl.

He relaxed over her, tangling his hand in her soft hair, smiling as her lips travelled all over his face. Her thumb was tracing across his jawline tenderly, her eyes softer than they had been since he found her again. It felt like stepping outside on the first warm day of spring, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face as it washed away all the cold from before. He never wanted this to stop.

Her hand slid down to his chest, gently tugging his jacket off. With a chuckle, he helped take it off, sitting Clarke up with him as her lips travelled down to his neck. Her thumb was gliding across his cheek as her soft lips continued venturing lower. He pulled off his tie with his eyes closed, focusing on how soft Clarke’s lips and fingers felt on his face and neck. Her hand slipped down to help him start unbuttoning his shirt, while the other ran though his curls and he felt her breath hot against his neck.

He had barely tossed his shirt to the ground before he was back on Clarke again, frantically feeling around for the zipper of her dress. She kicked off her shoes with a giggle as Bellamy fumbled with the zipper, and he couldn’t help but grin at the sound of that beautiful giggle. God, he loved this girl. He was desperate for her.

She had to get back up to get the rest of her dress off, and Bellamy took this opportunity to tug his own shoes off before focusing on his belt. Her fingers found his hair again, pulling him down for a slow kiss as he undid his pants. He knocked them both back onto the bed as he stumbled out of his pants, earning another perfect giggle from his princess. When he pulled up his face to look at her, she was smiling… a true, genuine, Clarke Griffin smile that lit up the room every time he saw it.

He kissed her again, his hand resting firmly on her neck as his tongue dove into her mouth. She would tease him with a brief touch of her tongue before making him chase it with his own, a move that drove him wild every time. By the time he tore his lips off hers, he realized he had been grinding against her desperately. He could feel his eyes grow dark as he watched Clarke writhe underneath him, desperate to get more friction. She needed him, and he needed her.

So, he pulled off her to tug down her panties, fumbling only after hearing Clarke’s sharp intake of breath. He threw her panties to the ground, watching her eyes become more desperate as he did. “I’m going to take care of you,” he promised as he tugged off his own boxers. He pressed a kiss to her stomach, just below her belly button. He pressed another kiss above it, his eyes watching Clarke’s face as he did. “I am always going to take care of you,” he promised, and she gripped his face between her hands, tugging him up to meet her lips. There was a desperation in the kiss that gave him chills, as if he would disappear if she let go of him. “I’m here,” he reassured against her lips.

“You’re here,” she repeated, and he nodded into the next kiss. He was here, and he wasn’t going anywhere without Clarke.

He pulled away only so he could line himself up with her entrance, his eyes raking over her soft and wanting body. God, she was too beautiful. He should be used to it, but he wasn’t sure he ever could be. Looking at her would knock the breath out of him every time.

She was perfect and tight around him, causing his eyes to flutter shut as he lazily thrusted in and out of her. Her hand reached out for his, which was resting on her hipbone. Her pale hand was so small against his as she squeezed it. He dragged his eyes back up to look into hers, earning the softest little Bell falling from her lips. He lowered himself onto her quickly, desperate to get his mouth back on hers. The little whimper escaping the back of her throat spurred him to thrust harder into her. As their kisses became more frantic, so did his hips as he fucked into her harder.

She was pulling his hair as she bit his bottom lip, causing him to growl as he captured her lips again. Then, she pushed his head toward her breasts, and Bellamy didn’t hesitate to take her hard nipple into his mouth as his tongue flickered frantically over it. His hand was squeezing and plucking the other, encouraged by the loud moans coming from Clarke.

He could feel how close she was, and he was barely holding on. When she pulled him back up to kiss her again, he fell apart inside her, grunting into her mouth as he felt her pulsate around him. They were both tugging at each other’s hair as they grunted and moaned into each other’s mouths.

They’re kisses became messier and slower as his cock softened inside of her. She whined into his mouth as he pulled out of her. He was worried he was crushing her in their current position, but every time he tried to roll off her, she pulled him back. “I’m here,” he whispered again. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter Text

Clarke reached over to grab her phone, opening her eyes just enough to see Cage’s name light up on her screen. “Mhmm?” she answered, ducking her face into her pillow.

“You’re still in bed?” Cage chuckled.

“Mmm, yeah,” she mumbled, feeling a shifting in the bed beside her. “What time is it?”

“A little after nine,” he replied, and Clarke leaned her head up to look at the clock on Bellamy’s nightstand. She normally didn’t sleep in this late, but Cage never called her this early. She furrowed her eyebrows as she sat up, rubbing her eyes as she tried to get her thoughts together. “So, I know that I said I would come with you to the Second Dawn fundraiser…”

“What are you blowing me off for?” Clarke groaned. She could hear Bellamy sitting up, so she gestured for him to stay quiet.

“There’s a donor my dad wants me to meet with,” Cage huffed, and Clarke was pretty sure that was bullshit. Cage Wallace was many things, but likeable was not really one of them. Dante would never send Cage on his own to charm someone into handing over money to the campaign. But there was one way she could test this theory…

“Oh, well then how about I blow off the fundraiser and come with you?” she asked sweetly, and Bellamy sat up suddenly, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Uh,” Cage stuttered, and Bellamy leaned a bit closer, to hear the response. Clarke gestured for him to stay quiet as she put the phone on speaker. “It’s not that I wouldn’t love for you to come,” Cage finally said. “I just think this would be something better handled just by me, you know? But I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?”

“You better,” Clarke said, and Bellamy mouthed something about the donor. “So, who is the donor you’re meeting with?”

“Pike,” he lied, and Clarke rolled her eyes. Pike was a regular donor of Wallace, one that wouldn’t need to be met with by Cage unless something was up.

“Tell him I said hello and ask him to thank his wife for her advice on who to hire to deal with my lawn,” she said, lying back down so quickly that her head made a plop noise when it hit the pillow.

“Will do. Go back to sleep,” he said before hanging up.

“Murphy is game to come with me to follow your boyfriend tonight,” Bellamy mumbled, and Clarke nodded along.

“Take Wells too. He’s getting a little stir crazy,” she whispered, and Bellamy laid back down beside her, turning on his side as he tucked his head into her neck. She let out a soft sigh as she closed her eyes again.

“If he goes, who is going to be watching your back tonight?” Bellamy whispered.

“Kane will still go to the fundraiser. Send Miller too if you’re really that worried,” she huffed, though Bellamy was still a little tense beside her. “I’m not the one wanting to do risky shit tonight,” she reminded, though she wasn’t actually that worried. Bellamy was good at trailing people, at staying hidden. All he needed to do was figure out where it was that Cage kept disappearing to, so tonight should be easy enough for him.

They fell into silence for a few minutes, long enough that Clarke thought Bellamy had fallen back to sleep. She tried to fall back asleep too, but her mind kept her a little too awake to drift back to sleep. She was playing last night over in her head, wondering if she made a horrible mistake with Bellamy. She knew why he left now, and she understood. Though, she was quite frustrated by the fact that he has had a sister this whole time and she never knew. If she had known that, she wouldn’t have spent so many years so confused and angry.

But she also missed this. She missed waking up with Bellamy. She missed wearing his shirts to bed and seeing the way his eyes lit up when he saw her in his clothes. There was a softness about being with him before either of them were fully awake, not yet fully aware of the hell they both were living in.

It wasn’t like they had a lot of soft moments before he left. The two of them were constantly under pressure from Kane and the others, working their asses off to figure out the best way to expose Wallace before he could do much more damage. But their mornings… that was the only time that they allowed themselves to be like this.

“You’re thinking too much,” Bellamy mumbled against her skin, and Clarke let out a sigh. “Baby, come back to sleep.”

Clarke turned her head to get a better look at him. His eyes were barely open, and his lips were parted. His curls were messy from sleep, and he looked so sleepily happy. “I’m trying,” she whispered as she nudged him onto his back and rested her head on his chest. His heart was beating softly, a sound she barely heard over the sound of Bellamy pressing a lazy kiss to her cheek before his head fell back onto the pillow.

Her mind drifted to last night, about all the things left unsaid between the tears and kisses. She knew why he left and she knew that he said he wasn’t going anywhere… and she wanted to believe that was true… but she wasn’t sure. She didn’t think he would leave before, and yet he did. There was still a lot she didn’t know about his sister, but her biggest uncertainty was over what Bellamy would do if he found her again. Would he leave Clarke again? Would he tell her this time? Would he ask her to come with him?

Would Clarke even go with him if he asked?

She knew that he loved her still, somehow… and she knew that no matter how messy and complicated her feelings might be, the love she had for him would always be there. She knew she would far rather be with him than without him…

But she also knew that this was the closest she had ever been to accomplishing what her father died for. Clarke put six years of misery and heartbreak into preparing for this final takedown… and she couldn’t just walk away. Six years ago, she absolutely would have given up everything to be with Bellamy. But the stakes were different now, Clarke was different now…

A little hum escaped Bellamy’s lips as she pulled herself even closer, his hair finding its way into her hair as he kissed her forehead. She pushed her thoughts out of her head, instead focusing on pressing slow kisses up his neck. “Princess,” he murmured, his voice low and course with sleepiness, “feels so good.”

His eyes were still closed, but there was this content smile resting on his lips as Clarke kissed across his jawline. She was fully lying across his chest now as she tried to kiss all the way across his jaw. Her thigh brushed against his growing erection, her heart skipping as she heard his quiet moan from the brief contact. She slid off him a bit, much to his disappointment, before sliding her hand under the comforter.

She smirked when she heard his sharp intake of breath as she reached inside his boxers, letting her fingers slowly tease his cock. “Clarke,” he whispered as Clarke wrapped her fingers around his length. “Fuck,” he moaned.

“That’s it, Bell,” she murmured, taking his lips with hers as he pulled down his boxers all the way. “I’ve got you,” she said into his mouth, savoring the moan escaping his throat right as her hand reached the head of his cock.

His shaft was so thick as she stroked, her hand barely wrapping around it. She removed her hand, earning a small whine from Bellamy, as she licked her palm so that it would be easier. It was easier to glide her hand up and down his cock now, and Clarke kept her eyes focused on Bellamy’s teeth biting his bottom lip as his head was thrown back.

Her own breathing picked up as she watched his lips part with every twist of her wrist. Then, she felt him start to thrust back into her hand. “Patience,” she teased with a giggle, but that did nothing to stop his hips from shifting up into her hand.

“Baby,” he moaned, and she sped up her strokes, tightening her hand around his length as he kept meeting her strokes. “Kiss,” he whispered, and Clarke giggled. “Come on, kiss me,” he pleaded, and she pressed a slow kiss to his lips.

“You doing okay?” she teased before gently biting his bottom lip.

“Doing so good, princess. You’re making me feel so fucking good,” he growled. His eyes were dark as he gazed at her, almost too intense. She buried her face into his neck, kissing and biting at his skin as she kept her hand firmly on his cock.

He was murmuring her name over and over as she felt him start to spill out onto her hand. She kept stroking slowly, savoring his raggedness of breath as he fell apart in her hand.



There was an odd energy in the crowd at the gala, one that was no doubt the result of the newest book being leaked a week early that catalogues one of Dante’s former staffers’ years’ worth of harassment and verbal abuse. Clarke had only been able to read a few passages as she got dressed, but what she read was terrifying, though not surprising. As a result, Dante did not show up tonight. He was likely at home, trying to run damage control or find a way to discredit the source.

“I’m sure Cage has his hands full tonight,” Roan offered, and Clarke took a sip of her drink.

“He said he was meeting with a donor tonight, but I’m sure that meeting got cancelled,” Clarke replied, her eyes searching the room for any sign of Diana Sydney. She imagined that Diana was in the war room with Dante at the moment, but Clarke couldn’t imagine she would miss the event she was hosting… it didn’t look good for anyone involved.

“Well, that’s how it is with people in this town, I’m afraid,” Roan said, but his tone was a bit too serious for Clarke’s liking. She gave him a once over, still struggling to figure out what his interest in her actually was. He was the son of one of the most powerful judges in the country, destined to become just like her one day. It was in his best interest to keep his head down, and instead, he seemed overly concerned about Clarke being in the center of the Wallace family drama even though he hardly knew her. Based on Bellamy’s observations alone, she could see that he was worried for her… she just wasn’t sure why he would be.

Then, Clarke sees Kane across the room, and her priorities shifted. She set her drink down on the table behind her as she muttered her excuses, before striding across the room toward Kane. “You and I should talk,” she whispered, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “You knew.”

“Knew what?” he asked, setting his drink down as Clarke looked over her shoulder to make sure no one would overhear.

“Why he left,” she accused, and he pressed his lips together. “You knew the whole time, and you didn’t tell me.”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” he replied quickly, and Clarke clenched her jaw.

“You let me fake my death, meaning he couldn’t find me again. And you knew that he didn’t want to leave me,” she snapped before he shushed her, pushing her toward the hallway.

“Clarke,” he finally said, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. He had watched her struggle for years with what happened yet let her fall apart… and he knew. “You and I have always had the same priority. Take down Dante Wallace so that we could make the rest of them pay too. Bellamy never had that priority.”

“Yes, he did.”

“No, he wanted to take down everyone so that there would be no one left who would kill Octavia if they found out she was born,” Kane corrected, and Clarke swallowed. “She was the reason he came to me, and she was the reason he left.”

“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t just—”

“I couldn’t have your priorities shift because of him,” he huffed, causing Clarke to jump slightly. “I couldn’t have you going after him, throwing everything your father tried to do away just because you made the mistake of letting someone in.”

“Go to Hell, Marcus,” Clarke spat as she tried to move past him, but he yanked her back by her arm.

“You spent years getting stronger and wiser, completely undistracted so you could focus on your actual mission. And now, you are going to finish what your father started. You wouldn’t be doing all of this if I had let you chase after the boyfriend who left you,” he whispered, and Clarke pulled her arm from his grasp before storming back inside, shaking her head as she tried to get those words out of her head.

Roan waved to her, and Clarke did her best to calm down as she approached him again. “I guarded your drink for you. You’re gonna need it since Diana is about to talk for five hours,” he teased, and Clarke chuckled as she picked up her drink.

“It can’t be that bad,” she mumbled, taking a sip as Kane walked back inside as if nothing just happened. When tonight was over, she was going to continue that conversation… but for now, she had to remain calm too.

As Diana began speaking, Clarke noticed Miller step out to take a phone call… which made her a bit nervous. But she needed to trust that Bellamy, Wells, and Murphy were doing okay on their stake out. They had Monty and Raven watching out for them too, and she made sure that Raven knew to alert Clarke first if anything went wrong.

So, Clarke forced herself to breathe. She didn’t bother finishing her drink, deciding she needed to be sober in case something happened, and they needed her.

But they never called her, and Kane remained calm as well, so she started to relax… maybe a bit too much. She found herself growing sleepy as Diana talked about climate change, leaning against the wall to prop herself up. “Are you okay?” she heard Roan ask, and Clarke’s eyes fluttered back open.

“Yeah, of course,” she mumbled, now determined to keep her eyes on Diana Sydney… but it was making her dizzy… too dizzy. Something was wrong. “Excuse me,” she mumbled as she pushed herself off the wall, trying to make it into the lobby as quietly as she could. The last thing she needed was to draw too much attention to herself.

She nearly fell onto one of the benches in the lobby, too shaky all the sudden. She pulled out her phone, trying to find Raven’s number… but everything was so fucking blurry…

“Clarke,” she heard someone call out, but it was too hard to figure out where it was coming from. Then, she felt someone grab her face, patting her cheeks.

“Get Marcus,” she pleaded whoever it was.

“Hey, keep those eyes open,” the voice said… and she finally recognized it as Roan. “Come on, let’s get you to a hospital.”

“No hospital,” she murmured out quickly. She couldn’t risk that, not on the off chance that the hospital still has the records from when she was admitted as a child… “Just, no,” she pleaded… her eyes falling shut again.



A soft noise startled Clarke out of her dream as she reached over for Bellamy. She felt his lips meet her shoulder and closed her eyes again when she heard him whisper, “Go back to sleep.”

His voice was low and gravelly from sleep… her personal favorite. It was the same voice he used a few nights ago when he was just mumbling anything that popped into his head because he had far too much to drink that night. They were mostly little love confessions, including a slurred rant about how when, not if, he marries her, he’s gonna have a hard time staying away from her before the ceremony because he just can’t stop looking at her.

She smiled at the memory as she drifted back to sleep, a contented sigh leaving her lips.

The next time she woke up, she rolled onto her other side so she could curl up against Bellamy… but she just rolled onto her stomach. She opened her eyes, seeing that Bellamy wasn’t beside her. She blinked a few times, wondering why he snuck out of bed so early. It had been months since Kane found out about them, thus removing their need to sneak around. She pushed herself up, feeling a strange texture beneath her palm…

There was a piece of paper under her hand… with a handwriting that she recognized all too well…

Clarke shook herself out of that dream, stretching out her arm out of habit… only to be met with a texture that was definitely not her bed. There was a strange sound vibrating in the air, and Clarke’s eyes jerked open as soon as she felt something bump beneath her.

She was in the backseat of a car… but how did she get here?

She didn’t sit up, fearing that whoever was driving would become aware of her alertness. She looked around for clues, noticing that she was still wearing what she wore to the gala, minus one of her shoes. She checked herself for injury… but she felt fine, just a little dazed.

She remembered the gala, she remembered fighting with Marcus, she remembered starting to feel dizzy… oh God, she had been drugged.

A phone ringing jerked her out of her thoughts, and a familiar “Hello” sent a chill down her spine.

“Yeah, we are about twenty minutes out,” Roan said, and Clarke leaned up just a bit to look out the window… this wasn’t Mt. Weather. She had no idea where they were, but they definitely weren’t on their way to a hospital. “She should be out for a few hours more, so I think you’ll be good. Just don’t let me forget to hand you her new documents.”

She ducked back down again, only making out his silhouette in the seat in front of her. From what he just said, Clarke had less than twenty minutes to figure out how to break out of this car before the reason that Roan Kingsley drugged and abducted her made itself known.

“This will be the last time, I swear, Lexa.”

Chapter Text

If Bellamy Blake had to say “no comment” to one more reporter, he was going to rip his hair out. It was bad enough that Bellamy’s evening got derailed by the leaking of this book, thus keeping him trapped in Dante’s home while Wells and Murphy were trailing Cage to see what he is actually up to when he disappears… but now, Bellamy had to lie through his teeth about the character of a man he hated more than anything just to keep his own damn cover.

This was why Bellamy didn’t like being in this close with his targets. It was too easy to get derailed by them. So, instead of actually doing the kind of work that he was trained for, Bellamy was answering phones and coming up with strategies to discredit a probably good man just so that he could stay on Dante’s good side.

Emerson was nowhere to be seen, which figures… leaving Bellamy, who had only just gotten this job, in charge of leading the interns. Luckily, Echo and Nia arrived, giving Bellamy a momentary reprieve so that he could step outside and call Wells back.

“Talk,” Bellamy whispered as he strode across the lawn, making sure that he was far enough away from everyone that no one could overhear him.

“Well, he isn’t meeting with Pike like he told Clarke,” Wells said, and Bellamy rolled his eyes. He knew that much, especially since Dante had been on the phone with Pike for the last half hour. “But he is meeting with someone he shouldn’t be.”

Then, Bellamy heard the muffled sound of Murphy arguing. He let out a groan as he heard Wells whisper something back… this was why Bellamy needed to be with them. The two of them argued whenever they were around, taking an immediate dislike to each other. “Okay, I think it would be easier if we just showed you,” Wells said ominously, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows.

A few moments later, he heard that he received a text… with an attachment from Murphy. Bellamy pulled the phone off his ear to click on it… spotting Cage Wallace in the absolute wrong place at the wrong time.

He appeared to be in front of a motel door, locking lips with a redhead that definitely wasn’t his schoolteacher girlfriend that he had been parading around. Oh, this was too good. This was front page, campaign ruining good…

“Leak it,” Bellamy snapped quickly.

“I should probably check in with Marcus first,” Wells said, and Bellamy rolled his eyes. This was a golden opportunity. The Wallace family had already taken a huge hit tonight, and a scandal like this could blow Dante out of the primaries.

“We tried,” he heard Murphy snap, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean you tried?” Bellamy asked, and Murphy scoffed.

“He isn’t picking up his phone. Then, I called Clarke, and there was no answer there either,” Wells sighed, and Bellamy checked his watch. Well, the gala could have been running long. Though, he wasn’t sure why Clarke wasn’t picking up. She seemed like she would jump at the opportunity to get out of a night of Diana Sydney. “So, I don’t know what we should do.”

“I think if Marcus answered the phone he would tell us to leak it,” Bellamy replied. “I’ve known him a long time. He would—”

“You knew him for over a year before you left. I’ve known him for four years,” Wells argued, and Bellamy bit down on his lip, a bit surprised that Wells took such a sharp tone with him. He didn’t know what to say in response to that… because Wells wasn’t wrong. Bellamy left. He really wasn’t the expert on Marcus Kane that he believed himself to be, though he was pretty sure he could still read the man well. Clarke might have changed, but Marcus didn’t.

“I say leak it, Bellamy says leak it, Raven agreed with us… why the fuck are we waiting on some guy who is probably drinking scotch with the enemy right now to tell us that it’s a good plan?” Murphy huffed, and Bellamy glanced back at the house, seeing Wallace pacing in front of the upstairs window with his ear pressed to his phone.

“Wells, use your best judgement,” Bellamy decided before hanging up. Then, he dialed Clarke’s number, hoping her not picking up for Wells was just a fluke. He hit the voicemail and hung up, forcing himself to take a deep breath before walking back inside the house. Clarke was okay. She had Kane and Miller looking out for her.

When he opened the door, he could hear Ontari yelling at Nia for not bringing Roan along to this meeting, and Bellamy had to fight not to roll his eyes. “And Bellamy,” Ontari growled, and his jaw clenched, “where the fuck is Emerson?”

“How the hell would I know?” he muttered, much to the amusement of one of the interns giggling into her sleeve. “What do you need?” he asked, regretting it instantly as she shoved a massive folder into her hands.

“Get to work on the phone calls,” she hissed, and Bellamy kept his head down as he crept toward the back of the basement, trying to stay out of everyone’s line of sight. He got through the first of this new batch of calls easily, though his patience was starting to wear thin as Dante came downstairs to check on everyone.

Echo plopped down next to Bellamy, taking half of the folder’s papers from him. He opened his mouth to thank her, but she held up her hand, almost disinterested as she said, “If I look busy, no one asks me to do anything.” A snort escaped him, before he quickly remembered that he was not supposed to look like he was happy at all while the Wallace campaign was under fire.

Ontari and Dante walked into one of the back offices, and Bellamy let out a sigh. “Have you tried calling Roan? We could really use his help?” Nia asked Echo, completely ignoring Bellamy’s existence.

“His phone is off,” Echo muttered, keeping her eyes fixed on the paper in front of her.

“God,” Nia huffed as she stomped off, muttering, “we wouldn’t be in this mess if Shawn were here.” Bellamy’s eyes widened at that, having not heard Shawn Gillmer’s name uttered by anyone other than his own associates in years.

“Who is Shawn?” Bellamy asked Echo curiously, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Just some attorney who was good at keeping us out of trouble,” she replied before returning her attention back to the task at hand.

“Dante!” he heard someone shout, and Bellamy jerked his head up to see Charles Pike storming into the basement, snatching the remote out of one of the intern’s hands before changing the channel.

Dante and Ontari came running right out of the office, and everyone’s eyes widened at the screen. “An anonymous source sent this photo to The Daily Arcadian, though one of the subjects has yet to be identified,” a woman’s voice announced. Bellamy covered his lips with his hand to hide his smirk at the sight of Dante Wallace’s son being caught in a cheating scandal. “Though, it takes all of two seconds to see that is Cage Wallace, son of Governor Dante Wallace, who many have speculated was approaching a serious relationship with—"

“Echo,” he heard Dante interrupt, jerking his attention away from the screen. “Drag my son back here. Do whatever you have to do to get him here.” And a small, terrifying smirk formed on Echo’s lips.



The screaming match that ensued once Echo dragged Cage home vibrated through the house, though Ontari had the sense to send almost everyone else home except for “essential” personnel. “I will get in front of those cameras right now and deny it,” Cage snapped, and Bellamy let out a sigh as he looked over Wallace’s second new public statement for the night.

“You can’t deny anything until you are sure that Clarke will support what you say. Now, get ahold of her,” Dante yelled, and he could hear the muffled sound of Nia trying to intervene.

“Her phone goes straight to voicemail,” Cage groaned, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows at that. He looked around to make sure no one was looking as he dialed Clarke, hoping that he would at least hear it ring… but it went straight to voicemail, just like Cage said. Her phone was dead.

He sent a quick text to Raven, asking where Clarke was. “You cheat on your girlfriend and all you’ve tried to do is call her?” Echo chuckled. His phone vibrated with Raven’s response: at her house.

“Okay, I’ve called her, I’ve texted her, I’ve even used my key to her house and she wasn’t even home. If you can think of something I haven’t thought of, be my guest,” Cage hissed, and Bellamy’s stomach dropped. Clarke wasn’t at home… so why did Raven think she was?

Bellamy pushed himself up from his chair, gathering his things quietly… but that didn’t escape everyone’s attention. “Mr. Blake?” Dante asked calmly, and Bellamy’s head popped up.

“Sir, I think my abilities would be more useful tracking down the leak for the photo, but I can stay if you would rather me continue making phone calls,” he lied quickly, and Wallace waved him off, redirecting his attention to his son as Bellamy nearly sprinted out of that house, dialing Raven as he walked to his car.

“Why do you think Clarke’s at her house?” Bellamy whispered. “Cage just said he was at her house and she wasn’t home. He has a key and everything and still couldn’t find her,” he huffed, trying not to get to worked up over the fact that Cage Wallace has a key to Clarke’s house.

“What do you mean Cage says she isn’t there?” Raven snapped as Bellamy stepped into his car and started it. “Marcus Kane!” Raven screamed, and Bellamy heard Marcus running up to them. “What did Clarke’s text say?”

“Uh, she said she didn’t feel well and was heading home early. You pinged her phone and saw that she got home okay, right?” Marcus murmured as Raven put the phone on speaker.

“Cage just told Dante that Clarke isn’t home,” Bellamy snapped and was met with silence. “So, where the fuck is Clarke and who was supposed to be watching her?”

“Raven, get onto the security cameras. Bellamy, go get Monty and bring him over,” Marcus said, ignoring his question. Bellamy gripped his steering wheel as he forced himself to take a breath. “It’s only been two hours. She couldn’t have gotten far.”

“Who couldn’t have gotten far?” he heard Wells call out.

“We can’t find Clarke,” Raven answered, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut. He lost Clarke… again.

“What?” Wells screamed, and he heard Raven pull the phone off speaker… which did little to hide the noise of Wells now screaming at Marcus, blaming him for not watching Clarke more closely.

“Bellamy, breathe,” Raven whispered into the phone, and he tried to open his eyes again… but everything was blurry and messy… he was too angry to think straight. “I’m really good at what I do. I’m going to find her for you, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, praying she was right. But Clarke didn’t leave on her own. She wouldn’t, not when there was this much at stake. Which means someone made her leave… or took her away.

Chapter Text

The phone Roan used was a burner, his actual phone completely out of sight. He was likely smart enough to either abandon his phone or turn it off… meaning that even if her friends somehow figured out who took her, they wouldn’t be able to track the phone and find her. No one was saving her.

No one is ever going to save you, she remembered Marcus shouting at her months after Bellamy left all those years ago. Clarke had just given up trying to find Bellamy, since it was clear he didn’t want to be found. She was lashing out at Marcus because he started training her harder, becoming less patient when Clarke wasn’t doing as well as she used to. The tasks he threw at her were harder, but they were also tasks she had to do alone. And when Clarke failed yet again and Marcus screamed at her for it, it was the moment that she truly realized how alone she really was.

Then, I’ll just learn how to save myself, she spat back to Marcus, ignoring the pang in her chest as she thought back to just how many times Bellamy had been the one to save her from a narrow escape.

And when Marcus relaxed, it all made sense. He was preparing her for that very horrifying fact. There was going to be a day where Clarke would be on the verge of being killed, and no one but her could save her.

As she laid silently in that backseat, after being drugged and abducted at an event where Marcus Kane himself was supposed to be watching her, she realized this was that day.

She took inventory of everything she had to work with. Clarke could see a bag at her feet but couldn’t move enough to see what was in it without alerting Roan to the fact that he didn’t drug her enough. Roan had a gun sitting in the seat beside him, which meant Clarke needed to knock it out of reach if she were to initiate an attack on him.

She thought back to everything she had on Roan Kingsley. He was a proud gun owner who grew up alongside Cage Wallace, meaning he could easily be just as vicious of an attacker as Cage. He was right-handed, but seemingly a bit slow in his reactions, if the way people always seemed to surprise him during conversation was anything to go by. He was stronger than Cage, likely also stronger than Bellamy, and definitely stronger than Clarke.

As for his temperament, he was a bit of a wild card. What little she had read about him gave no indication that he was a happy participant in the things his family did, but it also gave no indication to the contrary. The only signal she had received about his actual character was in regard to his sudden concern for and interest in Clarke… which might be the reason he took her. But she couldn’t be sure.

Her gut instinct was to assume the two things were related. But for it to escalate to him drugging and kidnapping her? No, that response was far too severe for this to just be a mild concern for her safety. And what would even be his goal for this action if it were somehow a noble one?

She held her breath as he dialed a number on his phone again, hearing the faint sound of an automated voice telling him the phone he was trying to reach has been disconnected. “Fuck,” he muttered, throwing the phone down on the seat beside him, clanking against the gun.

He slowed down as he pulled off the road into a dirt clearing, and Clarke slowly got herself ready for what she would have to do.

He turned off his headlights as he parked the car, narrowing his eyes around the clearing in front of them… as if looking for something.

Clarke sat up quickly, kicking his gun onto the floor out of his reach before wrapping her arms around his neck from behind his seat. His hands flew to her arms, trying to pull them off… so Clarke let him succeed for a moment. Then, she gripped his hair and slammed his head against the window beside him as painful grunts escaped his lips. She slammed it a few more times to knock the breath out of him, leaving him reeling as she tightened her grip around his throat.

“Stop,” he pleaded, his voice choked as she put more pressure onto his windpipe like Marcus taught her.

She was about to start hitting his head again when movement caught her eye. She glanced up in front of her, seeing a shifting by a car across from them… but the figure didn’t look like a woman, which Clarke assumed this Lexa person was. No, this looked like a man. “Who is that?” Clarke growled, jerking Roan’s head upward so he could get a look. The figure tucked back behind the car suddenly, and Clarke narrowed her eyes.

“That’s not…” Roan stuttered out, and Clarke clenched her jaw. This wasn’t whoever Roan was supposed to meet, so who was it? “I was trying to help you,” Roan huffed, and Clarke slammed his head forward angrily, hitting his steering wheel. “Clarke,” he shouted, and she wrapped her arm around his neck again. “Please, I was just trying to get you away from Cage.”

Clarke paused her movements, keeping her eyes fixed forward on the mysterious car in front of them, but Roan’s words almost felt real… but Clarke wasn’t sure she could take the chance that he was actually trying to help her.

“His last girlfriend,” Roan panted, “Echo got a call about burying the body. We still don’t know what happened, but she looked like someone had beaten her to death.” She clenched her jaw but didn’t add any pressure to his throat. “You can kill me later, but we need to deal with whoever that is,” he spat.

“That’s whoever you’re about to hand me off to,” she growled.

“No, Lexa isn’t here. Something is wrong,” he snapped, and Clarke had gathered that much. “I’m going to go find her.”

“Nope,” Clarke snapped, now strangling Roan once more.

“Please,” he huffed out, and Clarke stayed steady despite him fighting back. Then, she heard a click and the seat itself slammed backwards, knocking Clarke back against her seat. It took her a moment to realize that he adjusted the seat to get her off him… a moment too long because he was already jumping out the door by the time Clarke lunged forward again.

She dug into the bag beside her, seeing a lot of papers and cash… and a passport. She opened it up, seeing a picture of herself with a different name, age, nationality… She glanced up at Roan as he strode across the clearing, wondering if he was actually telling her the truth about trying to get her away from Cage.

Then, she spotted his keys still in the ignition. She could get away. She could take his car right now and get back from wherever the hell he just dragged her.

She climbed into the front seat quickly, hearing her dress tear as she did, reaching for the gun that had fallen to the floor. When her head popped up, she saw Roan and the mystery man fighting. The man lunged toward Roan, which he wasn’t as prepared as he would have been had Clarke not taken a whack at him first.

She clenched her jaw as she sat at the wheel. This was her chance to get away. She could get back to Marcus and Bellamy, tell them what happened… and if need be, get out of town.

But if she left Roan out here with whoever this was, he would die. He was in no condition to fight. And maybe she should let him die. After all, he abducted her and drugged her. But he might have done it for a good reason… maybe. More importantly, whoever was attacking him might know that Clarke was here too… and that was a risk she definitely couldn’t take.

She hopped out of the car, taking aim right as Roan’s attacker glanced up at her… and as she stepped forward, she realized she recognized him.

“Clarke, it’s okay,” Emerson said quickly, pressing down on Roan’s windpipe. “I found you.” How did Emerson find them? Clarke’s phone is nowhere to be found and Roan’s is off… which means he had to know that Roan was going to come here to meet Lexa… Emerson knew why Roan was bringing her here… meaning he was here to stop Roan from helping Clarke get away from Cage, if what Roan said was true.

Emerson wasn’t paying attention to her anymore, instead adding more pressure to Roan who was slowly losing the fight in him. Clarke cocked her gun, which jerked Emerson’s attention back to her… causing him to loosen his grip on Roan. “Clarke, aim at him. I’m here to help you. I’m one of the good guys.”

Emerson was far from a good guy. She saw how he held Shumway down as Cage killed him, she read about all the things he had done to cover up Dante and Cage’s crimes… he was a monster, a monster who seemed to be tracking Roan to keep Cage’s girlfriends from being able to escape their abusive boyfriend. “There are no good guys,” she growled as soon as Roan shoved him back, giving her a clean shot that she took immediately.

The clearing was silent aside from Roan gasping for breath, and Clarke moved back to his car, reaching for his burner phone. She quickly dialed Marcus’ number, but there was no fucking service. She threw the phone back in the car with a huff, turning to see Roan push Emerson’s body off him. “Who are you really?” Roan snapped, and Clarke swallowed.

“Clarke,” she said honestly, and he furrowed his brows at her.

“You’re a fucking schoolteacher and you just shot a man, looking completely unphased by it,” he snapped.

“Shouldn’t you be trying to figure out what happened to your friend?” Clarke muttered, trying to buy herself time before she needed to make a decision about Roan. He was the son of Nia, deeply buried in the group of people that Clarke was trying to get revenge on, and he just witnessed her murder a man and attempt to murder him. He was a witness to the fact that Clarke wasn’t what she seemed to be, and she couldn’t let him just go back.

“If Emerson found out about this, then she’s been dead since after my last check in,” he muttered. But Clarke didn’t want to kill him either. There was a part of her that believed he was trying to help her before… that he really convinced himself that this was the best way to help her. And maybe if Clarke were a normal girl who got charmed by Cage Wallace, he’d be right. He would have saved Clarke from a lifetime of abuse from a man that she would never be able to get away from because of who his father is.

Roan stood up, and Clarke cocked her gun again, warning him not to get too close. Roan’s eyes narrowed at her as he rubbed his throat, which was bruising terribly already. “How did you know?” Roan asked, and Clarke furrowed her brows in confusion. “How did you know that you made the right move to kill Emerson?”

“He was attacking you, obviously,” Clarke muttered.

“He was attacking someone who abducted you,” Roan said, taking a step forward… almost daring Clarke to shoot him. “You should have thought he was here to save you. So, how the fuck did you know otherwise?”

This was why she couldn’t let Roan get back to Mt. Weather. He knew too damn much already.

“You know what kind of monsters Cage and his boys are, don’t you?” he smirked. “In fact, I’m willing to bet you know exactly what kind of hell you’re in.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied. Maybe she could buy herself some time to make a decision, get Roan to help her deal with Emerson before she decides what to do with him… but that would just be delaying the inevitable. It was simple: it was her or him. And Clarke had been in this situation too many times to not know the ultimate answer.

Roan let out a huff as he fished something out of Emerson’s pockets… his keys. “Put the fucking gun down. I’m just going to see if Lexa is in his car,” he hissed, not even flinching when Clarke didn’t lower her gun. She followed after him as he popped the trunk of the car, watching his face grow pale as he got over there.

“Is she there?” Clarke asked, and he shook his head. When he slammed the trunk shut, his eyes met her again, stoic again.

“Put the fucking gun down, Clarke. I know you’re not going to shoot me,” he huffed. “But she was definitely in there at some point in the last hour.” Clarke swallowed, knowing exactly what that meant.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” she stuttered out, still not sure what to do with Roan.

“How much do you know?” Roan asked, crossing back over to her as she kept her aim steady. She needed to shoot him… she needed to just get this over with. If he walked away from this, her cover was blown… which could call into question everyone else she was here with. She couldn’t risk Bellamy or Kane’s life like that. She couldn’t do this to Raven and Wells. “You know at least that Emerson is a bad guy, which means you know that your boyfriend Cage is too. Unless you’re somehow stupid,” he spat. “Which I don’t think you are. If you know that your boyfriend is a monster, you also know that he gets away with these things.”

“Pays to have a dad like that,” Clarke muttered with a clenched jaw.

“Pays to have a dad with friends like my mother, Clarke,” he huffed, and she raised an eyebrow at him. He was getting angry. “Do you have any idea how many girls like you I’ve seen come and go? How many times I’ve made this drive to get them as far away from Cage as possible? How many things my mother has buried just because Diana pays her to make them go away?”

There was something so familiar about what he was saying, an edge to his words that felt just like when Marcus would explain his involvement with Dante Wallace or when Wells would rant about Diana Sydney… Roan hated these people. He knew them well, and he absolutely loathed them because he saw them as the monsters they were.

“So, tell me, why the fuck would you willingly get involved with people like that?” he hissed.

“Why do you?” Clarke asked, lowering her gun.

“I don’t have a choice,” he snapped. “There is nothing I can do to put an end to this bullshit. They’re all untouchable.”

“No, they’re not,” Clarke whispered. She watched Roan as he carefully assessed her, clearly still confused by her… not that she blamed him. It wasn’t like he had even an inkling of who Clarke actually was. He couldn’t. If he remembered Jake Griffin at all, it would have been mostly vague memories… nothing including Clarke. “Would you stop them if you could?”

“What kind of question is that?” he snapped.

“A very important one.”

“Look, let’s just deal with Emerson’s body, and then we can go back to Mt. Weather and pretend none of this happened. I won’t bother you about Cage anymore, and I won’t tell anyone you shot Emerson.”

“Answer my question,” Clarke shouted, but she kept her gun at her side.

“Yes, I would if I could. But I can’t, Clarke. It isn’t possible,” he yelled. Clarke let out a breath as she walked over toward Roan, stopping at Emerson’s feet.

“I’m assuming you’ve set a car on fire before, right?” Clarke asked, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Your DNA would be under his fingernails. We need to burn the body.”

“How do you know that?”

“How would anyone know that?” Clarke replied, and he clenched his jaw. “I think it’s clear that I’m not what you thought I was. Don’t you want to know what I am?”

“I’m assuming if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me,” he muttered.

“Close, but no. If I tell you, you get a choice. Either you disappear, or you decide to help me,” she replied, and his eyes widened.



Kane probably made the right move in investing in a house without neighbors, far from the actual city. It certainly helped considering Clarke could hear the screaming from inside the house as she got out of the car. The sun was starting to rise as Clarke and Roan got out of his car. She had ditched her one shoe in the backseat, meaning her feet were covered in dirt and mud along with the bottom of her ripped dress. Still, she was the better looking of the two of them considering the bruising and blood that consumed Roan’s appearance.

“They’re going to kill me,” Roan muttered, and Clarke let out a breath as she opened the back door. She expected everyone to start running toward the kitchen as soon as the door opened, but it seemed that Bellamy and Kane’s screaming match was too loud for anyone else in the house to hear them enter.

“Live feeds don’t just suddenly cut off for no reason,” Raven interjected in Bellamy and Kane’s fight, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at Roan. Figures, he would be thorough when he abducted someone.

“Maybe,” she whispered. “And let me clear, if you ever try something like this again, I will slit your throat.”

“I figured that much out. I did just spend a night dealing with your murder victim,” he muttered, and she hit his chest.

“For all we know, Clarke willingly took off,” Kane snapped back. “She has been taking off a lot without telling us lately.”

“No, I was taken while you were supposed to be watching me, you idiot,” Clarke yelled toward the other room, and all conversation halted as she heard the sound of multiple footsteps sprinting toward her.

The first one in the kitchen was Bellamy, who didn’t even pause as he barreled toward her, enveloping her in his arms. “Clarke,” he said frantically, cupping her face between his hands, and Clarke let out a breath. God, she was so happy to see him again. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No,” she reassured, although Roan was. She needed to get a better look at him to make sure there was nothing that needed real medical attention.

Bellamy’s eyes were scanning all over her face, seeming to doubt her words… not that she blamed him. She couldn’t imagine the panic that broke out in this house when they realized she was gone.

“I’m here,” she whispered, resting her hand over his.

“Roan?” Marcus said, which snapped Clarke back into focus. She took a step back, though Bellamy wouldn’t let go of her hand… she doubted he ever would after what just happened.

Clarke locked eyes with Marcus, who looked like he wanted to approach her… but he was wary. Understandably so, considering she wouldn’t have been taken if Marcus had kept his eyes on her. He cocked an eyebrow weakly, asking the question he was too scared to ask.

“Drugged and abducted,” Clarke answered, and his eyes fell. “But I knew how to save myself, luckily,” she offered, the closest he would get to a thank you for tonight. Clarke glanced around at the others, all looking as though they hadn’t slept all night. Wells wasn’t here, but Miller and Raven were.

“Who?” Bellamy growled, his eyes no longer looking at Clarke, but past her at Roan.

“It’s a long story,” Clarke said quickly, jumping right between Roan and Bellamy when Bellamy lunged forward. “Stop,” she snapped, and Bellamy’s dark eyes widened at her.

“Clarke,” Raven said nervously, but Clarke stood her ground… much to Bellamy’s anger.

“Yes, he took me,” Clarke said calmly, blocking Bellamy when he tried to go around her. “But he was helping me. And now he’s going to help us.”

“Have you lost your mind?” Bellamy snapped.

“You want to go after Nia, right?” Clarke asked, and he furrowed his eyebrows. “You want to get me away from Cage, right?”

He opened his mouth to argue with her, before Marcus cleared his throat. Then, his mouth snapped shut. “If we can get Nia, we don’t need to stay as close to the Wallace family. It would be safer, especially for Clarke,” Marcus said, and Clarke shot him an appreciative look. That might be the only argument Bellamy would listen to.

“We can’t trust him,” Bellamy huffed.

“I’m right here,” Roan growled, and Clarke shot him a warning look.

Bellamy clenched his jaw, but Clarke rested her hands on his chest, nudging him backwards slightly. She just needed to get him out of here to talk about this calmly. “Bell,” she whispered, a bit nervous because it had been at least seven years since the last time she saw him this blind sighted by his anger. Then again, this Bellamy was rasher than the one who left her.

His eyes flickered down to hers, and she could see him fighting with himself. Then, his eyes flashed to Roan’s murderously. “My answer is no,” Bellamy growled, not even looking at Clarke. No, he was too busy glaring at Roan.

She clenched her jaw. This wasn’t his call to make. She knew what she saw in Roan. It was the same thing that Marcus saw in her and Bellamy. It’s what she saw in Raven and Wells. It’s what Bellamy probably saw in his friends. Roan was like them… he just didn’t know what to do about it yet. He needed them, he needed this… and they needed him too.

“Bellamy,” she said calmly, but his eyes still didn’t meet hers. “I wasn’t asking.” And just like that, she had his complete and undivided attention as his head snapped down to look at her with panic in his eyes. “Roan is with us, whether you like it or not.”

Chapter Text

Bellamy had sent Murphy, Miller, and Monty home, both to get sleep and to get everything they could find on Roan Kingsley. Bellamy was just biding his time as he waited to get Clarke alone so that they could have an actual conversation about this.

He had heard the story of what happened last night, seen enough of the bruises and injuries on Roan to realize that Clarke absolutely could have killed him if she wanted to. And everything that Roan and Clarke said lined up perfectly with the suspicions Bellamy already had about Roan’s loyalties… but that didn’t mean he was about to trust the son of Nia, especially not with Clarke involved.

“Stop,” Marcus whispered, leaning against the doorframe beside Bellamy as he watched Clarke and Wells patch Roan up.

“Stop what?” Bellamy muttered.

“You know what,” Marcus snapped, and Roan must have said something because Clarke immediately slapped his shoulder. “Come on,” he ordered, gesturing with his head toward the backyard. Bellamy bit his lip, scanning the room again. It wasn’t like Roan was going to attack Clarke right with Wells next to her. He let out a huff as he followed after Marcus.

“I really don’t want another ‘Clarke made the right call’ talk,” he snapped as soon as the backdoor slammed shut. “She didn’t.”

“What was the alternative, Bellamy?”

“She could have pulled the damn trigger,” he huffed. It’s what he would have done if he were there. Roan literally drugged and abducted Clarke. He couldn’t be trusted after something like that, regardless of why he claims he did it.

“Clarke had literally just shot Emerson. How many red flags would go up if Emerson and Roan both went missing on the same night? And how long do you think it would take for Diana Sydney to figure out who killed them both?” Marcus asked, and Bellamy rolled his eyes. Clarke knew how to cover her tracks, and they would have all helped make sure this all stayed buried.

“Not as many red flags as when Roan opens his mouth and outs us all,” he huffed, and Marcus shot him a warning look. “She made the wrong call.”

“She made the right call. She made the call that spared someone their life,” Marcus replied, and Bellamy let out a groan. “Bellamy,” he shouted, and Bellamy narrowed his eyes at him. “We weren’t there. Clarke made that decision alone.”

“Whose fault is that?” Bellamy snapped, and Marcus took a step forward.

“My point is that we can’t say something was the wrong call if we weren’t there. You were on a separate mission, and I had my hands full with reporters about that damn book leak, so neither of us were there for Clarke. She was alone,” Marcus said very quietly, and Bellamy clenched his jaw. “And you better believe that after you left, I made sure that Clarke Griffin knew how to make these decisions alone. She’s smart, she reads people well, and I am going to trust that she made the right call.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to argue, but he knew that Marcus was probably right. Clarke had a good head on her shoulders, and assuming she made a bad decision was just insulting to her intelligence. If there were enough reasonable doubt in her mind about Roan, she would have pulled the trigger without hesitation.

“If you don’t like this plan, you always know where the door is,” Marcus muttered, and Bellamy’s jaw clicked.

“What is your problem?” Bellamy snapped, and Marcus raised his eyebrows at him. “Ever since I got back, you have been cold and passive aggressive to me. What the fuck did I ever to do you?” This wasn’t the same Marcus Kane he remembered, not even close. He was almost completely detached from everything, and Bellamy was absolutely done with it.

“You left, remember?” Marcus replied, quirking an eyebrow. Bellamy snapped his mouth shut, and Marcus turned away to face the backyard now. “It wasn’t just Clarke that you left behind, and you know that.”

“You didn’t need me. It’s not the same,” Bellamy reminded, his eyes now dropped to his feet. “And you told me I could go.”

“And I also asked you not to. I warned you about what you would find when you got to Octavia,” he whispered. “Was it even worth it?”

Bellamy wasn’t going to listen to this, not when Marcus clearly already knew the answer to that question. He moved toward the door, but Marcus pushed the screen door shut when Bellamy tried to open it. “Move,” Bellamy snapped.

“You have never once asked what happened in those six years you were gone,” Marcus said sharply, and Bellamy swallowed. He knew that somehow, Raven and Wells joined up with them, that Clarke faked her death, and that they relocated too many damn times. “Abby Griffin was almost killed by one of Dante’s men.”

Bellamy nodded. He had figured that much… and he knew how much Abby meant to Marcus. “It became clear that Clarke would be a target too, and I promised Abby I would do what it took to keep her alive. The only problem with that promise was that I didn’t have you around to help protect her anymore.”

“Stop,” Bellamy pleaded. He didn’t need this. Not today. He was already tearing himself apart over the fact that he almost lost Clarke last night, that he wasn’t there when she needed him the most. He didn’t need more guilt today. Tomorrow, maybe, but not today.

“You wanted to know how I got this cold, so you’re going to listen,” Marcus snapped. “I had to make sure that Clarke could keep herself alive, so yeah, I became more severe. I made sure that she knew all the different ways she could have died when she made mistakes because that was the only way I could keep her safe. I didn’t have someone like you watching out for her. Wells and I aren’t cut out for the kind of work you do, despite how hard we try. And I’m hard on you because if you’re going to leave again, I’d rather it be sooner rather than later.”

Bellamy tried to argue, but Marcus already stepped back into the house… apparently, ending this conversation. Bellamy followed him inside, avoiding him as he headed toward Raven and instead going toward where he left Clarke.

She was helping Roan stand back up when she caught Bellamy’s eye. “I’ll help him upstairs and then you can take me home,” Clarke offered.

“Someone explain to her why she can’t go home,” Raven shouted from the other room, and Bellamy let out a sigh.

“Cage is cheating on you and it got leaked last night,” Wells explained as he packed up the emergency kit. “You’ve got paparazzi camped outside your house and you really don’t want them seeing you like this.”

“Here, I’ll help Roan,” Bellamy muttered, throwing his arm over his shoulder.

“Oh, are we friends now?” Roan smirked, and Bellamy bit down on his tongue.

“So, Cage fucks around and now I can’t go home,” Clarke muttered, throwing herself back down on the couch. Bellamy led Roan toward the stairs, and he was walking well enough… though his knee seemed to be giving him trouble. That was an injury he got from Emerson, not Clarke. The concussion though… that was all Clarke.

He could hear the faint sound of Wells filling Clarke in on what else happened last night, luckily leaving out Bellamy’s complete meltdown from his narration, as he and Roan reached the stairs. “Guest room is this way,” Bellamy mumbled, gesturing down the hallway.

“Great,” he grumbled in response.

When they get to the room, Roan falls face forward onto the bed. “Let me be clear, if you ever—”

“Save your threats,” Roan mumbled into the mattress, not even lifting his head to speak. “I’m more scared of your girlfriend.” Bellamy tried to say something else, but Roan interrupted him by saying, “She literally slammed my head into the window and steering wheel in between strangling me. And that was her first fucking instinct.”

Bellamy chose not to say anything, stepping back out into the hallway to let out a breath. It was clear that Roan wasn’t going anywhere just yet… so Bellamy would be the one to watch him. It was the only way he could make peace with this nightmare of an arrangement.

When he got back downstairs, Clarke was alone in the living room, half asleep on the couch. “Come on, princess,” he whispers, tapping on her arm. She sleepily sat up, groaning when she actually stood. They mumbled their goodbyes to Kane, Raven, and Wells, before heading out to Bellamy’s car.

They didn’t speak in the car, which he wasn’t surprised by. Neither one of them slept last night, although Clarke clearly had the more exhausting evening. He also knew Clarke was still upset with him after he fought with her about Roan for so long, so he needed to figure out how to make up for that one… on top of all the other things he had been doing wrong.

They didn’t speak on the way up to the apartment, nor did they speak as Clarke made her way to the bathroom to take a shower. He left towels and spare clothes for her to change into on the counter, before he made his way to his laptop. Monty had already sent him some information on Roan, but nothing completely damning yet. A count of drug possession when he was sixteen… but being caught for being high at Homecoming was hardly enough for Bellamy to base his argument on. There was a bit of background on his past relationships, none of which had particularly scandalous endings. He wasn’t a great student in undergrad, but his LSAT scores were off the charts. He slammed his laptop shut as soon as he remembered who his mother was. If there was anything damning about Roan Kingsley out there, she would have buried it.

Clarke headed right for his bed when she got out of the bathroom, and Bellamy let out a sigh. “Bell,” she whispered, sleepily patting the bed beside her. He got up from his desk, tugging his shoes off. She was lying on her stomach, eyes closed as she rested her head on the pillow. Once he was undressed enough to be comfortable, he crawled in bed beside her, and she immediately curled up against him.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, running his fingers through her damp hair. “Sleep, princess,” he pleaded.

“I was really scared,” she whispered, burying her face into his neck.

“Me too,” he murmured into her hair, feeling his eyes threaten tears. He was still scared.



When Bellamy woke up, it was dark outside… meaning he and Clarke slept through the afternoon. He adjusted himself beneath her carefully, his arm a bit sore from how she rested on him.

She stirred a bit, her fingers tracing lines into his shirt almost absently. He ran his fingers through her hair, earning a sweet hum from Clarke. Slowly, he started to remember the last 24 hours… the realization that Clarke was gone, that screaming match with Kane, his panic attack that Monty had to talk him down from, the way Miller had to hold him back when Bellamy nearly punched Murphy for saying it was probably too late for Clarke now…

Then, Clarke came back to them, which was a true miracle in of itself. She was unharmed, mostly. It left the team with a few new tasks, mostly turning Roan into one of them and figuring out what all Emerson knew about what Roan was doing and if there was anyone else in that knew.

Everything was getting too complicated already. Two people had died on their watch and Clarke literally pulled the trigger on one of them. Clarke still needed to do something about Cage Wallace now that the story was out. Bellamy wanted her to call things off, to make a clean break. That would lessen his job substantially. As of this moment, Bellamy had too many potential threats to Clarke near her, too many for them to all keep track of. Removing Cage and Dante would make it that much easier to keep Clarke safe.  

“Bell,” Clarke whispered, and he looked down at her as she rubbed her eyes. “Stop worrying and come back to sleep.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, shifting onto his side. She blinked her eyes open, looking at him with a confused look in her eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“I was thinking,” he whispered, and Clarke’s face already started to tense… she was just waiting for him to bring up the Roan issue again. “If Roan is with us now, I want him working closely with me,” he decided, wincing a bit as he spoke.

“What?” Clarke chuckled, and he shot her a stern look, pleading with her not to make him say it again.

“I just… I don’t have to stress about him if I can keep an eye on him,” Bellamy explained, and Clarke’s eyes softened.


“Can you just let me have this?” he pleaded. He needed this peace of mind if he was going to stay sane. Clarke brings home her goddamn abductor and says they’re allies now, and there is no other way that Bellamy is going to be able to make peace with that fact. “This is how I make sure you stay safe.”

“I am safe,” Clarke reminded, and he swallowed. He was never going to get the sight of Clarke this morning out of his head. She was covered in dirt and blood, though she assures him the blood wasn’t hers. He could tell just by looking at Roan what kind of physical altercation she was involved in, luckily being in a position where she wasn’t the one getting hurt. And his mind just went in a thousand different directions as he heard the horrible story. If Clarke had finished her whole drink, if Emerson just shot Roan, if Roan had been able to fight back when Clarke strangled him, if Clarke didn’t have a gun… “Bellamy,” she said sternly, jerking him back into focus.

It was clear that he still hadn’t recovered from finding out that Clarke was dead six years ago. He wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to look at any scenario without counting all the ways that he could lose Clarke again. “I’m here,” he muttered.

“No, you’re not,” Clarke corrected, looking down at his chest as she traced the collar of his shirt.

“I’m sorry. It’s just if something had happened to—”

“Nothing happened to me,” Clarke snapped, and he forced himself to look into her eyes.

For six years, Clarke was alone, and Bellamy thought she was dead… and last night, she was alone again, and he feared she would be dead if she weren’t already. Maybe that’s why Bellamy lashed out so much at Kane, why he can’t deal with the idea of Roan being in the mix, why he’s terrified of the moment where they have to get out of this bed…

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, burying his face into her neck as she managed to get her arms around him. “I’m sorry,” he kept saying over and over again, knowing that Clarke could probably feel his tears on her skin.

Her fingers slid through his hair, gently massaging his scalp… and he tried to focus on just that feeling. “I know,” Clarke whispered back to one of his many apologies, her voice cracking. He popped his head up to look at her, seeing the tears in her eyes too.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, trying and failing to fix this. As soon as he pulled away, she tugged him back, kissing him a bit more desperately this time. And it was clear that she needed to be reminded he was still here just as desperately as he needed to know that she was still here.

He gripped her face between his hands, his tongue diving into her mouth as he climbed on top of her. She whimpered into his mouth, her hands clutching the back of his neck. He tried to slow down the kisses, but Clarke wouldn’t let him. She kept pulling him closer, holding him a bit tighter… like if she didn’t, he would leave. “I’m here,” he panted into her mouth, gripping her face a bit tighter. “I’m here and I’m yours, I promise.”

He pulled back, watching her wide eyes process his words. His eyes lingered on her tearstained cheeks and her bruised lips as he brushed back her hair. “I need you, Bellamy,” she whispered, and he wasn’t sure any other words could sound so beautiful.

“You have me,” he swore, pressing a slow, chaste kiss to her lips. She gasped lightly as he pulled his lips off her, but her gasp turned into a sweet little hum as he kissed her cheek. He let his thumb trace her jaw, her eyes almost pleading with him for more.

His hand dropped to her chest, sliding down her stomach. Her breath caught, but her eyes didn’t leave his. “I’ve got you,” he reassured, letting his hand slip below the shorts he loaned her. She swallowed right as he cupped her mound, feeling her arousal already drip onto his fingers. “This all for me?” he teased, and finally, a small smile took over Clarke’s beautiful lips.

“All for you,” she whispered, grinding herself back on his hand. He stroked his fingers along her slit, watching her eyes grow a bit hungrier as she did. He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead against hers.

She sucked in a breath right as he grazed her clit, her eyes falling shut. “Let me see those beautiful eyes, sweetheart,” he murmured, and the sweetest blush fell on her cheeks as she opened her eyes. “That’s it, my pretty girl,” he whispered as he put a bit more pressure onto her clit.

She was gripping at his shirt again as soon as he pressed a finger inside of her, and he did his best to hold her hips down as she writhed beside him. “Bell,” she whined, leaning forward to press a sloppy kiss to his lips, and he took the opportunity to gently bite her bottom lip.

“I know,” he whispered. She needed more. He dove his finger into her a few more times, feeling her grow slicker each time, before pressing another finger in. She was so tight around his fingers, making it hard for him to ignore how badly he wanted to feel that tightness around his cock. And the sounds she was making… God, it was like she was trying to kill him right as they were just getting started.

She was whimpering and moaning, her breaths becoming more and more ragged. He kept having to remind her to keep her eyes open so he could see her, and she kept whispering her apologies between frantic kisses.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered as he let his lips trail down toward her neck, feeling her responding hum vibrate through her. Her fingers were tugging at his hair, signaling just how close to the edge she was. “Touch yourself, princess. Come on, rub your clit for me,” he pleaded, making sure his head was raised so that he could see exactly what her face looked like when she did.

He kept pumping his fingers in and out of her frantically as she slowly rubbed her clit, and his own breath caught at the sight of Clarke’s bottom lip starting to quiver. He crashed his lips onto hers, letting her moan echo through his mouth. “Come for me, baby. I need you to come for me,” he pleaded against her lips before taking her mouth again.

Her lips were bruising into his as she moaned into his mouth, right as he felt her start to come around his fingers. He kept rocking them in and out of her, swallowing every moan and whimper he could. Her other hand was clawing at the back of his neck, trying to pull him even closer to her.

He slowed his fingers as her kisses became less desperate, ultimately removing his fingers so that he could hold her face properly for how deeply he wanted to kiss her.

Clarke was lazily tugging his bottom lip with her teeth when he heard his phone ringing. He pulled off her with a groan, though Clarke held onto his hand as he reached for the phone. He swallowed when he saw that it was Marcus.

“What?” Bellamy huffed.

“I need to talk to Clarke,” he said, and Bellamy turned back to look at Clarke. She sat up, the dazed, happy expression on her face gone again as she went back into business mode.

“He wants to talk to you,” Bellamy explained, and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows as she took the phone into her hand. She probably sensed his discomfort. Marcus didn’t ask to speak to both of them. He cut Bellamy out of it. He only wanted to talk to Clarke, which meant he didn’t want Bellamy to be a part of the conversation. Clarke lifted her finger to her lips as she gestured for him to lean in.

“Yeah?” Clarke answered, as Bellamy wrapped his arm around her waist and tilted his head toward the phone so he could hear.

“Dante just called me. He wants to set up a meeting,” Marcus explained, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows.

“What could he want to meet with you about? He already has your donations and your public support,” Clarke snorted, and Bellamy bit his lip.

“No, he wants a meeting with both of us. Cage will be there too,” he replied, and Bellamy’s stomach dropped. The whole point of bringing Roan on was to eliminate the need for Clarke to be anywhere near Cage.

He felt Clarke tense beside him and tried to stroke up and down her side to calm her… though it wouldn’t do much. But it was all he could do at this exact second. “Do you know what the point of this meeting is?”

“Well, your boyfriend has been trying to get ahold of you for 24 hours now and the media around his affair has only gotten worse, so I think I have a few guesses about what they want to talk about,” Marcus replied, and Clarke’s jaw clenched. Bellamy bit his lip as he waited for Clarke’s reaction.

“Did you already accept the meeting?”

“Of course, I did. You don’t just decline a meeting, especially not when Dante is going to show up offering us something in exchange for some form of cooperation,” he replied. “I’m not saying we will accept, but we need to know what kinds of things Dante is offering people for their compliance. It will help us.”

Bellamy’s eyes must have given his reaction away, earning an apologetic look from Clarke as she furrowed her eyebrows. “I will get there an hour before the meeting. We need to be on the same page before that meeting,” she sighed, and Bellamy threw himself back onto the pillows. He just got Clarke back, and she was being thrown right back into the lion’s den.

Chapter Text

Marcus was pacing in the foyer when Clarke arrived, and she wasn’t sure if he was more nervous about this meeting or for being alone with Clarke for this long. “You okay?” he asked her as she set her purse down.

“Yeah,” she muttered, ignoring just how difficult of a process it was to get all her things from her house. It wasn’t like she could just show up with the sheer amount of people waiting for her there, and certainly not in her previous state where all she had was a torn gown or her ex-boyfriend’s clothes to wear over there. She had to talk Wells through where to find everything in her house, getting a little too frustrated when trying to verify which makeup items she needed and which he could leave behind. Bellamy was laughing his ass off as Clarke described in detail which shoes she needed and Wells argued that her navy ones would look cuter… but he was right. Wells also found where Roan had stashed her phone and purse the night he took her, and it took Clarke a few hours to work up the courage to turn her phone back on to see just how many frantic calls she had missed. “Roan upstairs?” she asked.

“No, Raven is watching him today. Though, I don’t think he minds,” he replied, and Clarke looked up at him to see a smirk on his face.

“Oh, Wells won’t like that at all,” Clarke snorted, and Kane raised an eyebrow. “Oh, come on, I know you’ve noticed the way he follows her around like a lost puppy,” Clarke joked. It was even funnier that Raven hadn’t even noticed despite this going on for over a year now. “Any progress on Emerson?”

“Well,” he sighed, and Clarke swallowed. The last thing anyone needed was for Emerson’s death to get messy. “Judging by what we have on his computer, a lot of people would have probable cause to kill him. And from Raven and Monty claim, it didn’t appear that Emerson told anyone where he was going that night.”

“It wasn’t like Emerson could tell many people about it,” Clarke muttered, though she worried that somehow Cage knew. She kept shaking that thought out of her mind, reminding herself that Emerson would have purposefully kept him out of the loop for that kind of thing. Besides, if Cage knew that Roan was going to take Clarke that night, he definitely wouldn’t have been with whoever that woman was… no, he would have been right there with Emerson, ready to take his anger out on Roan. “Who would have the most motive?” she asked.

“Charles Pike,” he replied, and Clarke raised an eyebrow. “But he was at the house that night, according to Bellamy. He has an alibi.”

She tapped her fingers on the table. “So, on that night, Cage was off with whatever her name is, Roan and I dealt with Emerson, and everyone else as at the Wallace’s,” she processed it out. They needed to pin what happened to Emerson on someone quickly, since Dante was going to figure out sooner or later that something happened. “Who is Bellamy claiming leaked the photo?” she remembered, and Marcus shrugged.

“Haven’t figured that out yet. He lied to Dante, which bought him some time to figure out a good answer,” he muttered, and Clarke swallowed. Bellamy needed to come up with an answer quick if he was going to keep his head above water.

She crossed over toward Marcus’ office, looking for the list of everyone Bellamy remembered being at the house. The list from Diana Sydney’s fundraiser was right beside it, and Clarke noticed that Pike’s name was circled. She tapped on it, raising an eyebrow at Marcus who followed behind her. “He didn’t show but he was on the guest list,” he said, and a smirk fell onto Clarke’s lips.

“He didn’t show,” she repeated. “What if Charles Pike was who leaked the photo?”

“He has no issue with Cage or Dante,” he argued, but Clarke held up her hand.

“No, but he has issue with Emerson. And he needed to keep Cage and Dante distracted so that they wouldn’t notice that their right hand went missing…” Clarke smirked, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

“It’s a stretch,” he mumbled.

“We’ve pulled off much harder lies,” she joked, earning a small chuckle from him… the first in a long time. “I mention that I had already been tipped off about the affair by him,” she mused, figuring she could play coy with that information that Dante would of course try to rip from her.

“And Bellamy says he found the leak,” Marcus added in.

“Except he will be skeptical about it, claiming that his guy clearly doesn’t know what they’re talking about since Pike is nothing but loyal to them,” Clarke grinned, and he nodded along. “But the seed of doubt is already there, so by the time news blows up about Emerson going missing on the exact same night, they’ll be ready to make the leap that it’s connected and take care of him for us.”

She practically skipped out of his office toward the kitchen, pouring herself a celebratory drink as he locked up his office. This plan could work, and it would get Charles Pike out of the picture at the same time. “About what happened…” Marcus said as he turned the corner, and Clarke put down her drink.


“I should have known something was wrong,” he kept going, but Clarke waved him off. She knew what happened. It looked sketchy, but he then he got texts from Clarke’s phone saying she was fine… and when Roan put it in her house and Raven tracked her phone… it really looked like everything was fine.

“You can’t always keep your eyes on me. That’s what you trained me for, remember?” she said, and he nodded. She could see the guilt still in his eyes, guilt that probably wouldn’t go away until everything was over. It was the same guilt she felt whenever she saw the scar on Marcus’ arm or noticed how Wells favors his right leg now… every single one of them had made mistakes like this that could have been fatal. They forgave her, and she will always forgive them. “Anyway, we need to focus on what to do with the Wallace’s.”

Marcus stood next to her, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “Well, we know that Dante is going to make Cage apologize profusely for hurting his girlfriend who he loves so very much,” he chuckled, and Clarke rolled her eyes. “Feel free to give him hell.”

“Planning on it,” she smirked. “But that can’t be the reason for this meeting.”

“No. I think Dante wants to make a deal with you, an agreement that you won’t roast Cage in the media so that it doesn’t hurt his campaign,” he explained, and Clarke figured that much.

“What could he possibly offer me that I would want?” she mused. He’d offer money, of course. She wasn’t sure what else he would think to offer, nor was she sure there was anything she would accept.

“He will ask you what your price is. He does that a lot in his negotiations,” he said darkly, and Clarke clenched her jaw. Sometimes, she forgot that he used to be in this world genuinely, having regular negotiations with people like Dante Wallace. This was all new to Clarke, but this was once Marcus’ life. “You might want to think about how confident you are in that Kingsley kid being able to help us before you throw Dante and Cage out the door. They’ll get through this scandal, with or without your help. I don’t know if you gain anything by having them resent you.”

She pressed her lips together. She knew a little bit about the records that Nia kept from Roan’s mumblings on the car ride to Kane’s house, but not enough. She didn’t know how easy it would be for Roan to get to them, and there was still a voice in her head, that sounded suspiciously like Bellamy’s, that was warning her that this plan might fail. If the plan with Roan failed and Clarke was on the outs with the Wallace’s, they would have nothing, no foot in the door except for Bellamy’s job with Dante that she was fairly certain he would lose as soon as he lost his temper.

“Bellamy isn’t going to like this,” Clarke realized, and Kane’s eyes fell. Before he could say anything reassuring, there was a knock on the door. He gestured for her to stay put as he walked toward the front of the house. She took a few deep breaths as she heard him greet Dante and Cage, leading them into the dining room to talk.  

She waited for Kane to call her name before giving in and walking over, keeping her face cold and distant as she was greeted by Dante, letting her actual hatred for the two of them bleed into her eyes since she was supposed to be devastated about the affair.

She ignored Cage’s obvious attempt to greet her, not even sparing a glance in his direction as she sat down beside Kane. “Governor Wallace, to what do we owe the pleasure?” she asked, getting straight to the point.

She kept her eyes fixed on Dante as he spoke, ignoring the intensity of Cage’s gaze on her. Clarke wasn’t stupid. Cage didn’t actually want Clarke around. He was cold and distant whenever it was just the two of them, and Clarke knew she was just a person to stand next to him so that no one asked any other questions about what Cage does in his spare time. No one thinks twice about someone who seems to be heading toward making a nice little family of his own, not when everything looks normal.

Cage needed to keep Clarke so that he kept looking normal, so that people stopped asking questions. But since he didn’t care much for her, he never paid close attention to her. Now he was… because he had to, and that made her nervous. There wasn’t much room for error, regardless of if she put up with this charade or not. She had the attention of at least one of the Wallace men, if not both of them.

It was when Clarke heard Cage say “an honest mistake” that she finally looked at him, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Honest mistake?” she asked, and his eyes were too steady as he lied to her again.

“Obviously, that photo was taken a long time ago, long before I met you,” he said quickly, and she had to admit, it was a good spin. But it was all here say until someone could vouch for where he was that night before he rushed over to the Wallace house.

“That’s not what I heard,” she said carefully, causing both Dante and Cage’s eyes to widen before they remembered to stay composed.

“Marcus, I believe you offered us some coffee earlier,” Dante deflected as he straightened his posture. “Cage, go help him,” he said with a warning look in his eyes before he turned back to look at Clarke.

She narrowed her eyes at Dante, ignoring the nervous look that Kane was shooting her as he showed Cage the way to the kitchen. As soon as Cage shut the door behind him, Dante leaned forward and whispered, “Who talked to you?”

“No denials, Mr. Governor?” she retorted, and he pressed his lips together. “And given that it turned out to be true, I hardly think it matters. Clearly, someone else knew.”

“And clearly you knew, but only care now that it’s out in the open,” Dante accused, and Clarke merely shrugged in response. “What do you want, Clarke?”

“Excuse me?”

“Excuse my bluntness, but most people would have already gone out to the media and left Cage out to dry by now, but you didn’t,” he replied, and Clarke bit her lip. It wasn’t even like she was aware of this at the time, since she was busy being drugged and abducted. “You chose to take this meeting with us instead, which means you are willing to negotiate.”

“Maybe I’m just curious,” she mused.

“Maybe you’re just ambitious,” he accused, though Clarke shouldn’t be surprised by this. He had her. No one who didn’t have an agenda would do what Clarke has been doing. Granted, the only thing keeping Clarke from running out of her house that night to tell the reporters what kind of man Cage Wallace really is was the fact that she was drugged in the backseat of Roan’s car at the time, but still.

“What were you hoping to get out of this meeting?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

“At worst, an agreement that you would tell the press that you and Cage had already amicably broken up prior to the night in question, thus putting this mess to bed,” he sighed, leaning back in his seat.

“And at best?”

“You and Cage going in front of the cameras explaining that the photos were taken long before you two even met, along with you saying that Cage was with you that entire night,” he grinned, and Clarke bit her lip. “Name your price. Money, a favor from me… whatever you want.”

Clarke fought not to roll her eyes, since neither of those were things she truly wanted. “I’m Marcus Kane’s daughter. I don’t need or want money,” she muttered. “There is literally nothing you can offer me that I want.”

He tapped his fingers on the table, not nervously, though… he was oddly confident for someone whose negotiation was spiraling out of control. “You know, I have known Marcus for a very long time. Longer than you have, in fact,” he smirked, and Clarke bit down on her tongue so she didn’t reveal anything that would contradict that statement. “A long time ago, a friend of ours got into some trouble. Luckily, I made sure that Marcus’ name stayed out of it. And I’m so grateful that I could help him, especially since our friend didn’t last long in prison.”

Clarke was digging her nails into her leg, counting each and every way she could kill Dante with her bare hands without alerting Marcus or Cage to what she was doing. Dante was really using the story of Jake Griffin’s death to scare Clarke, unaware that Clarke knows this story far better than he does.

“Stop,” Clarke warned.

“I am looking at a presidential campaign, Clarke,” he said calmly. “And you may be new to this world, but I’m going to let you in on a secret. It’s better to be with me than against me at a time like this.”

She bit her lip right as Cage and Marcus came back in, reminding herself that she has Roan on her side now… she has an in that isn’t Cage Wallace. And Nia has all sorts of files and documentations that could put both Dante and Cage away for life, along with Diana Sydney and all the others who rigged that first election and let her father take the fall for everything.

Clarke took a long sip of her coffee as Marcus and Dante fell into small talk, and she let her eyes meet Cage’s. He was sizing her up, likely knowing exactly what his father just threatened her with. “So,” Clarke said, putting her cup down and looking right at Dante. “What time are Cage and I meeting with the press?”



She pulled the cap off her red marker with her teeth as she stepped forward to put a large X over Emerson’s photo. She stepped back, examining just how many people were left up on her basement wall. Charles Pike would soon go too, especially after Dante threatened that information out of her after her interview.

She took a deep breath. It wasn’t like she had been back in Mt. Weather for very long. But each day, they got closer and closer to the primaries…

“Clarke,” she heard Bellamy growl behind her, and she froze. She had been waiting for this all night, knowing just how furious Bellamy would be about this decision.

“He has something on Marcus,” she said quickly, turning to look at him. “More importantly, Dante decided that he wants to keep me around for some reason. He’s gonna do what he has to in order to make that happen.”

“It’s because if the media is focusing on how cute you and Cage are, no one is paying attention to the fact that his son is the shadiest man on this earth,” Bellamy hissed, and Clarke bit her lip. “You aren’t there in the strategy sessions with Ontari, Clarke. You don’t know just how bad this is going to get.”

“I think I have an idea,” she stuttered out as she turned back around. Then, she felt Bellamy wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him.

“I don’t want you near them,” he pleaded right into her ear, but he knew it was too late. She made her deal with the devil already and wasn’t getting out of it until this was all over.

“He used the story about my dad to threaten Marcus. It was the only choice,” she muttered, and he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Her mind was flashing to what little she remembered about that court hearing, about her mom packing her up frantically to get them out of town, to the phone call her mom got from Marcus in that hotel room that made her break down in sobs…

She was about to say that Bellamy couldn’t possibly understand, but she knew that he knew better than most what it was like. So, she turned into his chest, burying her face into his shirt.

“I know, princess, I know,” he whispered into her hair, cradling the back of her head with his hand. The idea of Marcus, the only family she really had left anymore, meeting the same fate as her father… it was too much. Clarke had spent too much of today in an angry, scared haze. “We keep pulling the Nia thread, and you just stay off Dante’s radar as much as you can.”

As soon as her first choked sob came out, Bellamy tightened his grip around her, rocking her back and forth. She knew she needed to have a talk with him about limiting how they met up with each other now… especially since she knew Dante was going to be watching her carefully, making sure she wasn’t going to be a problem for him. But she just didn’t have the energy left in her. She was going to give herself tonight.

Chapter Text

Bellamy had seen the approval ratings. Cage was far more likable when Clarke was by his side… meaning Clarke played her part just a little too well. He clenched his jaw as he watched the two of them up on the screen, Cage’s arm possessively around Clarke’s waist as they talk with voters.

Bellamy knew this was necessary. Dante had backed Clarke into a corner, and Clarke took the choice that put her in better favor with him. Bellamy had seen the files that Emerson had kept on Marcus Kane… and it was clear that Dante had all sorts of options for taking out Marcus if he felt like it, including the exact way that he got rid of Jake Griffin. It wasn’t like Clarke could make a different choice with the hand she was dealt. Marcus was her family, her only family for the past six years.

“The coroner IDed Emerson,” Monty called out from behind him, and Bellamy let out a breath. It was only a matter of time before that happened. Clarke had a pretty iron clad alibi for that night since Cage Wallace is now claiming they were together that night. And Roan… well, it was clear that no one in his circle respected him enough to suspect him of foul play… well no one except maybe Echo, who Bellamy had begun keeping a closer eye on.

“Wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Roan groaned, sitting up groggily on the couch in front of the television. “Dante isn’t going to take any chances that it could be tied to him, especially not when he is about to lose a primary already,” he snorted, and Bellamy let out a huff.

He wasn’t wrong. Dante’s numbers weren’t looking great… but that wasn’t new for him. There was still a week before the actual primary, and Bellamy just knew that Dante was going to pull something to get ahead. “So, framing Charles Pike was kind of pointless since he’ll just make the whole thing disappear,” Bellamy muttered.

“He’ll make it disappear, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to hunt down who is responsible,” Roan mumbled as he stood up, stretching his legs.

“Did you have a good nap?” Bellamy snorted, and Roan furrowed his brows as he turned to look at him.

“When was the last time you slept?” Roan asked, but Bellamy waved him off. He dropped the subject as he slumped toward the kitchen, and Bellamy let out a sigh. Bellamy had spent almost all day every day at the Wallace house, doing the job of both himself and Emerson.

Bellamy’s eyes drifted back up to the screen, where the news was now covering the speech that Cage was giving at the rally earlier, his eyes drifting to Clarke sitting in the background. He had hardly seen her since the day she made a deal with the devil himself.

Well, he was seeing her every day… but it wasn’t the same. They were cold and distant encounters inside the Wallace house. The two of them were too terrified of slipping up that they avoided each other altogether. He saw her on the news all the time, always with Cage. And he once got to see her at a meeting at Kane’s house, but the meeting was cut short before he actually got a moment alone with her when Diana Sydney called her for an emergency that absolutely was not an emergency.

He knew this was making him a pain to be around. He spent most of his time worrying about her when there was literally nothing he could be doing to help her. She had Wells and Marcus watching her back, and he needed to trust it. But the frustration of not getting to be with her was wearing his patience thin… especially when he had to watch her be with Cage Wallace.

The front door of Monty’s apartment swung open, and he immediately hears something hitting the wall. Bellamy turns back to raise an eyebrow at Monty, who was burying his face in his hands. “It was my fucking idea,” Murphy spat.

“Are you kidding me?” Raven growled before slamming the door shut.

“What’s going on?” Roan asked, conveniently emerging from the kitchen as soon as Raven’s voice was heard, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“She’s too good for you,” Bellamy reminded him as he crossed over toward the hallway. Roan snapped his mouth shut, clearly learning by now that Bellamy was never going to be his friend. He spotted Raven and Murphy by the door, now arguing in hushed tones. “Who tripped who?” he muttered.

“I figured out how to unlock Nia’s storage door,” Murphy said triumphantly, earning a quick smack to the back of the head from Raven.

“No, he didn’t,” she huffed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as she stormed into the living room.

“It was my idea,” Murphy mouthed as he followed after her, and Bellamy let out a groan.

“You were just rambling about gun show policies and I wasn’t even listening to you,” Raven huffed.

“Yet somehow something I said must have triggered your realization,” Murphy teased.

“Okay, we can decide who gets credit as soon as you two tell us what the fuck you figured out,” Monty groaned from the table.

“Roan,” Raven called out, and Roan didn’t hesitate to jog back into the living room as she shoved a piece of paper into his hand. “Does this number mean anything to you?”

Bellamy turned to watch him as he looked over the number, and recognition flickered over his features as he nodded. “What is it?” Bellamy asked.

“The keypad code. Go test it and be careful,” Raven said, and Bellamy clenched his jaw. Getting into Nia’s private records had been a pain, involving a lot of sleepless nights for Raven and Monty as they try to figure out how to get around various scanners and codes. Hopefully, this was the last security measure they had to get around… but every time they had sent Roan in, he came back with pictures of their next test to crack. “You only get one attempt every five minutes, so if you mistype it, you’ll be at higher risk of getting caught.”

Roan grumbled to himself as he went to grab his shoes, as Raven and Murphy went back to their spat. Bellamy followed Roan to the door, his chest tightening at the idea of Roan going out on his own again. It was clear that Roan was as trustworthy as they could hope for… but Bellamy still didn’t like risking that he was wrong about him. “Meet your check in times or I will hunt you down myself,” Bellamy reminded, and Roan rolled his eyes. He let out a huff, annoyed that Roan didn’t seem to take any of his threats seriously. Before Bellamy could get another word out, Roan was out the door.

Raven stormed up toward the hallway, likely to take another nap in Monty’s room. Bellamy found Murphy on the couch, playing some game on his phone. “How is Clarke doing?” Bellamy asked Monty, plopping down in the chair beside him. Monty was watching over the feeds that Miller had set up in Diana Sydney’s office on one screen, and the few cameras he could hack in Dante’ house on the other.

“Struggling to stay awake while listening to Nia talk about education budgets,” Monty mumbled, and Bellamy bit his lip. That’s not what he meant, and Monty knew that. “Chill. Miller overheard Sydney talking about Clarke behind closed doors. Literally all of them think she’s just a social climber who is in this to become a future governor’s wife or something.”

Bellamy let out a breath. He had noticed the way that Dante was watching Clarke a bit closer… which of course, unnerved them both. If it was just because he now realized that Clarke wasn’t a sweet schoolteacher and instead saw her as someone using them for personal gain, that is something they could work with. But he needed to keep a close eye on the situation just in case it was that Dante started to see Clarke accurately…



The numbers weren’t looking any better, but everyone was surprisingly calm about it. Cage hardly blinked as he looked over the numbers, and Dante was still smiling as he greeted everyone… a far cry from the panicked energy the night that the two leaks came out.

Today was one of those days where Dante pretended he wasn’t campaigning. It was fundraiser for cancer research, which earned a lot of Dante telling the cameras that this isn’t about politics and he’s not a politician today… just a concerned citizen.

He spotted Charles Pike across the green, talking with a bunch of people that Bellamy wasn’t personally familiar with. He was surprised that Pike was still around… but as far as he knew, it wasn’t like Dante confronted him about what he thought happened with Emerson or the leak. “You know, I don’t feel like we have properly thanked you for how tirelessly you’ve worked on this campaign,” Cage said, startling Bellamy as he turned to see him standing beside him. Clarke wasn’t with him for once, and he was relieved.

“Well, it is my job,” Bellamy deflected with an easy smile, earning a pat on the back from Cage.

“I just wanted you to know that we appreciate you, even if we don’t always say it,” he said a bit quieter, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at him. “Also, whoever your source was about the location of the leak… I would keep in touch with them if I were you. I think they were onto something,” he said pointedly before walking away, and Bellamy swallowed.

“Well, that answers our Charles Pike question,” Miller muttered through the earpiece, and Bellamy let out a sigh. Maybe if Pike were a good person, Bellamy would feel bad for the fate he was about to meet. But everyone here deserved what was coming to them.

Then, he spotted Cage gesturing with his head for Echo to follow him, and Bellamy shifted slightly so he could get a better, non-suspicious, view of them. They crossed to an area that didn’t have many people around, and he could see a pained expression on Echo’s face. “Are any of you seeing this?” Bellamy whispered as he took a sip of his drink.

“Seeing what?” Monty asked. Bellamy took his eyes off them for a moment to locate everyone else. Miller was talking with Marcus, both clearly watching Echo and Cage out of the corner of their eye.

“Echo and Cage,” Wells answered, and Bellamy spotted him pretending to take a phone call off in the distance.

“What did Cage say to you, Bellamy?” Marcus asked.

“Basically, he confirmed I was right about Pike,” he muttered, and then he finally located Clarke in a conversation with Roan, herself positioned that she could easily see Echo and Cage over Roan’s shoulder. He started making his way toward Clarke and Roan, figuring if he was going to talk, it might as well look like he’s talking to people.

He stood beside Roan carefully, his new strategy for making sure he didn’t stand too close to Clarke these days. He stole a glance at her before looking back at where Echo and Cage were talking. Echo’s jaw was clenched as Cage whispered to her, clearly unhappy about whatever he was saying.

“He’s ordering a hit,” Roan muttered, and there was a brief flash of panic in Clarke’s eyes when he met them. This was the first time since Roan hit another roadblock with Nia that he seemed to have his head on right.

“What exactly does Echo do?” Clarke whispered, her eyes finally parting from Bellamy’s… and he swallowed. It was too short of a moment, and not a happy one… but it was more than he had been getting with Clarke lately. He just missed her. He missed seeing her. He saw her all the time, but that wasn’t the real Clarke. It was the Clarke that was putting on a show for everyone, trying with all her might to keep her head above water. It wasn’t his Clarke.

“The same kind of thing Murphy does,” he answered, and that snapped Bellamy back into focus. He had been aware that whatever it was that Echo did for Nia couldn’t strictly be legal… but he also knew that Echo shared a lot of the same opinions that Roan did when it came to Cage Wallace. That left him in a weird place where he didn’t know how to think about her.

“And why did she try to help Clarke get away from Cage when she works for Cage?” Bellamy whispered, watching Echo grab her bag and take off toward the exit.

“She works for my mother, not for Cage. Occasionally, that means she will have to do something for Cage, like today apparently,” Roan mumbled, and Bellamy bit his lip. “But if she had it her way, she’d kill Cage and Dante right this second. She hates them.”

Before Bellamy got another question out, Dante came over to grab Clarke. His chest panged as he watched her walk away. He knew this was only temporary… but Bellamy spent six years without Clarke. He wasn’t ready to be separated from her again... even if it was just temporary.



Charles Pike disappeared off the face of the earth… just like Roan said he would. The Wallace family seemed unphased by this, too busy being completely unconcerned with the fact that they had two days until the primaries and were not a favorite by a long shot. A new smear campaign started against Dante, one that aired a lot of dirty laundry about what went down between him and his wife years ago. And Dante was instead throwing himself into his tax reduction platform, completely ignoring the amount of politicians trying to tear him down in the media… which concerned Bellamy. It meant Dante was up to something.

“Absolutely not,” Marcus shouted, and Clarke let out a groan. The others had taken to hiding out upstairs as Raven tested a new theory around Nia’s security measures.

“He might as well be holding a gun to your head,” Clarke snapped, and Bellamy winced. “It is just a meeting. We don’t even know what he’s asking for.”

“Do you remember how your last meeting with him went? You might as well have Property of Cage Wallace tattooed across your forehead,” Bellamy muttered, and he knew it was crossing a line as soon as it was out of this mouth… but that didn’t make it any less true. He heard the way that Cage and Dante talked about Clarke, like she was just some pretty trophy that humanized the two of them to voters. After all, if a sweet little schoolteacher could find something redeemable about a sleaze like Cage and grow to consider the heartless Dante Wallace family… well, then they must be the kind of family that should be in office. What Bellamy hated the most was that it was working… especially with women from both parties aged 18 to 40. It wasn’t enough to give them the lead they need, but it was enough to push them over if it got close.

Clarke didn’t even dignify that with a response as her heels clacked their way to the kitchen, and Bellamy let out a groan. “Fix that, now,” Marcus growled, hitting Bellamy on the shoulder.

“I know, I know,” he muttered, pushing himself up to follow after her. He took a deep breath before entering the kitchen, and Clarke whipped her head around with a murderous look in her eyes. “I’m sorry. That was too far.”

“You’re such an ass,” she huffed, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? It was the only choice.”

“I know,” he said quietly as he cautiously stepped toward her. She didn’t tell him to stop, so he continued. “I am in a horrible mood and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he leaned against the counter beside her, taking her hand in his. “You’re still an ass,” she replied, and a smirk formed on his face.

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” he sighed, and Marcus came back in. “She’s right, Marcus. She has to take the meeting. Only choice, and all that.”

“Look, Dante didn’t say it had anything to do with the primary. He actually said the meeting could wait until the day after,” Clarke explained, and that made Bellamy feel a little bit better. At least whatever Dante was waiting to drop tomorrow didn’t involve Clarke.

Kane bit his lip, looking over his shoulder as someone jogged down the stairs. Bellamy held his breath, praying for good news from Raven… but it was Roan. “Do you guys ever not look like you’re miserable?” Roan asked as he walked in, jumping up to sit on the counter by the sink.

“Just make yourself at home,” Kane grumbled, and Bellamy could see Clarke crack a smile out of the corner of his eye. He squeezed her hand, grinning when she squeezed it back. “We’re trying to figure out what Dante is up to.”

“Why do you think he’s up to something?” Roan asked, cocking his head to the side, and Marcus pointedly ignored him as he turned back to Bellamy and Clarke.

“Tell me Monty has figured out what Dante is going to use tomorrow? It’s got to be something from Emerson’s files,” Marcus mused, but it was clear he was running out of ideas.

“We’re not going to be able to guess what he’s doing. Bellamy and I have kept our ears to the ground. We’ve got nothing,” Clarke huffed, leaning her head on Bellamy’s shoulder. He knew he should be more upset right now… but it was hard when he had Clarke right at his side for the first time in so long.

“Just look at the shit he’s pulled in the past,” Roan mumbled, and Bellamy rolled his eyes. Why the hell couldn’t he stay upstairs with everyone else?

“A presidential primary is not exactly the same thing as a recumbent running for governor,” Marcus dismissed him. “He has to have dirt on the other opponents, something bad enough that if dropped right before the primary it would tank their campaigns.”

“Well, McNealy is having an affair, but Dante has been sitting on that for months. I feel like he would have used it by now if he was going to,” Clarke explained, and Bellamy nodded along. Each of the candidates had some kind of baggage comparable to Wallace’s.

Bellamy’s phone started ringing from a number he didn’t recognize, so he let go of Clarke’s hand as he slipped into the living room and answered it. “Hello?” he said, but he was met with silence. “Hello?” he asked again before biting his lip. He hung up quickly, before running up the stairs. “Monty,” he called out as he followed the sound of Wells and Murphy arguing. He opened the door, tossing his phone to him. “Trace that call. Someone just called me and didn’t speak,” he explained, and Monty got to work immediately, setting aside his current project.

“Your rando caller is not more important than what we’re doing,” Raven reminded, and Bellamy took a deep breath.

“It might be, depending on who it is,” Monty whispered. This was not the first time this happened to Bellamy, but it hadn’t happened in a while. It was usually nothing… but he wasn’t taking any chances right now.

“Raven!” Marcus shouted, and Bellamy turned to see Marcus, Clarke, and Roan jogging up the stairs. Raven slammed her laptop shut with a groan. “What would you need to be able to monitor a voting machine?” he asked breathlessly, and Bellamy narrowed his eyes at Clarke, waiting for the explanation.

“He can’t rig an election if everyone believes he’s going to lose,” Raven snapped. “The investigation into the election would bust him for election fraud. He’s not stupid.”

“Which is why he is going to air all the dirty laundry he has to. He has a bunch of little things about all the candidates, enough to explain how he wins by a very small margin,” Clarke explains, and Roan looked so smug. “Roan figured it out,” she sighed, and Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t kill me?” Roan teased, nudging Clarke in the side.

“Bellamy,” Monty said, and Bellamy turned back to look at him. “Disconnected burner.” He swallowed. It didn’t necessarily mean anything… but he needed to keep an eye out around him just in case.

“So, Raven, tell me what we have to do to prove that he rigs the election,” Marcus said, and a huge grin formed on Raven’s lips.



Bellamy didn’t like waiting, not even a little bit. It was the hardest part of working with Marcus when he first got into the revenge business all those years ago. But at this moment, the best thing he could do is wait. Raven is ready to catch Wallace when he rigs the primary. All they have to do is sit by and watch as it happens.

But Bellamy spent his entire day seeing each news story come out throughout the day, with each one, Dante’s smirk grew larger. It was hard to feel good about their progress when Dante was walking around like he was getting away with murder.

He made it through, nonetheless. He only had another hour of this party that Diana Sydney was hosting for Dante to suffer through, and probably another speech. Roan had stuck by his side for much of the party, who was still a bit smug from figuring out how Dante was going to come out on top this time.

“Your mom wants to see you,” Diana Sydney interrupted them, and Roan let out a groan before downing the rest of his drink. Her eyes drifted over to Bellamy, almost as if she were sizing him up… luckily, his phone started buzzing, giving him an excuse to ignore her.

He got a text from another number he didn’t recognize right as he heard Dante start on the microphone. Get out, was all it said, and Bellamy started searching the room for anyone who seemed out of place. But it was the usual crowd, all faces that he more or less knew…

“Bellamy?” Roan asked, but Bellamy held his hand out to shut him up. He located Marcus by the door with Miller, Murphy and Wells at the opposite end… and Clarke was up on the stage beside Cage and Dante.

He glanced to see that Diana had already taken off again, and he let out a breath. “Something is off,” he whispered. “I just got a message from an unknown number telling me to get out.”

“Same one or different one from yesterday?” Monty asked over the earpiece, and as soon as Bellamy looked down to check, he heard a gunshot.

He found Clarke immediately, barely making her out with the frantic crowd between them trying to get to the exits. Roan grabbed him as soon as he lunged forward, pulling him back with a powerful yank. He was about to scream before he heard Dante’s voice over what was probably Clarke’s earpiece… calling out for Cage not Clarke.

“The shot was from the roof on the building behind us,” Murphy said over the earpiece, and Bellamy finally got a glimpse of Clarke… who had caught Cage after he had been shot, her dress covered in blood that thankfully wasn’t hers. God… she was just inches away from him. If someone had so much as bumped into her, she would have gotten shot.

“She is okay,” Roan whispered, and he must have felt Bellamy start to shake. Clarke was okay.  She didn’t get hurt. She was safe.

“We have to go,” Miller snapped. “The gunman is getting away.” Bellamy turned finally to see what they were referring to. There was a dark figure up on the rooftop, packing away their gun. He was about to point out to the guys that there were going to be all sorts of law enforcement tracking this guy down… but then he remembered the text he got just a minute earlier… telling him to get out.

The gunman knew him. That was the only explanation for why he was warned. “Go, Bellamy,” he heard Clarke whisper into the earpiece before he heard the sound of it disconnecting. He glanced up, seeing Clarke and Dante being pulled away by security as Cage was pulled onto a gurney.

“Let’s go,” Bellamy decided, tugging Roan with him as they made their way toward the exit.

Chapter Text

After two different interrogations and having her phone taken away, Clarke found herself in a closed off wing of the hospital sitting on a bench by herself. The whole last hour went by in a flash… being thrown into a car with Dante, being pushed through the crowd waiting for them at the hospital, having protocol explanations from security shouted at her… that alone was too much.

Factor in that Clarke still had a splatter of Cage’s blood on her and that Clarke was just inches away from being in the line of fire… and it was understandable that Clarke was a complete and utter wreck. There was too much going on for her to register what was going on with the others, other than the fact that they were about to go find out who the shooter was. She had no way to check in with them, and they had no way of reaching her for as long as she was trapped in this hospital wing.

“I have family who is going to see this on the news,” she heard Dante scream in the distance, and she looked up to see him picking a fight with a member of the security detail. “At least, let me call them,” he growled, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut. She couldn’t hear the response to his demand, but she knew what it was. This wasn’t in their power, nor was it in the governor’s. This part of the hospital was to be on lock down until the authorities figured out what happened and could be sure that Cage and Dante’s lives were no longer at risk. And no one wanted details of this story getting out to the press just yet. Thus, Clarke and Dante were trapped here together until further notice with no way of contacting the world outside this hospital.

She could hear Bellamy’s voice in her head, lecturing her about how dangerous it is to get this close to the enemy. And God, he was right. A part of her always knew he was right but didn’t particularly care. It still didn’t completely get to her when Roan abducted her. No, it took until Cage fell back onto her with a bullet by his collarbone for her to realize just how closely she was to the ledge this time.

“It is going to be a long night,” she heard Dante whisper, and Clarke glanced up to see him holding out a cup of coffee for her, his hand shaking.

“Thank you,” she replied, as she took it from him. Dante had taken off his jacket and tie, and there was just a hint of blood splatter on his shirt. “Have you heard anything from the—”

“He’s in surgery and that’s all I know,” he cut her off, shakily taking the seat beside her. He took a sip of his own coffee, his hand shaking as he lifted the cup to his lips.

“I’m sure he will be okay,” Clarke stuttered out, though she had no idea if this was true. She didn’t get a good look at the wound, was too in shock to assess his odds for survival. She had seen too many people die by gunshot to be optimistic… but at least Cage had a medical staff on standby.

She took a better look at Dante, whose eyes were glazed over as he stared at the wall across from them. This wasn’t the charismatic governor she knew, nor the vindictive man who sends his former accomplices to their death to save himself. No, this was a man who was terrified he was about to lose his son.

Even monsters love their sons, she thought to herself as she rested her head on the wall behind her. The man who ruined her life was sitting right beside her, finally feeling the kind of grief that Clarke had felt when he took her father from her… and all Clarke could think was that she hoped that Cage lived.

It was a dark, twisted thought. She hated Cage. He was a monster, just like his father. She had gotten more and more stories out of Roan about Cage, which had solidified her stance that he deserved to burn alongside his father. But he didn’t deserve to die today. There was a reason that Bellamy, Clarke, and Kane all agreed all those years ago not to end this quickly with an assassination. Letting them die did nothing. It wouldn’t correct history, it wouldn’t take down everyone who allowed it to happen, and death didn’t even begin to make up for the lives they had taken over the years.

“This is all my fault,” Dante whispered, and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows at him. He wasn’t speaking to her, though. She wasn’t sure he was speaking to anyone based on the dazed way he stared at the wall in front of him. “It should have been me.”

“No,” Clarke lied, and he reached down to grab her hand… which threw Clarke off. Dante hadn’t bothered being kind to her in private ever since their last confrontation, since he clearly knew that he didn’t have to charm her to keep her around anymore.

“You don’t understand,” he sighed, throwing his head back as he rested his coffee on the bench beside his leg. “I have lots of enemies. That shot was meant for me.”

Clarke swallowed. That much she knew wasn’t true. If Dante had been the target, he would have been shot. Whoever planned this knew what they were doing, and they aimed for Cage. The question was why.

The only answer Clarke could come up with was that it was personal. It wasn’t like Cage was without enemies. And if Roan had helped as many people as he claimed he did, that meant there were many people who survived Cage Wallace who would have every reason to want him dead… though Clarke doubted their capability in doing so. But Cage could easily have some more powerful enemies with the means to hire someone to do it properly.

… or someone shot Cage to hurt Dante. She stole another glance at him, and he was a broken man. On the wrong day, Clarke absolutely would have thought that killing Cage would be justice for what Dante took for her, and she knew that Bellamy and Kane had those days too. Clarke knew there were hundreds of people like her out there, people who lost someone they loved because Dante needed to cover up election fraud or had to bury a story about an affair or tried to take out a reporter before they got too close.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, blinking as he turned to look at her with tears in his eyes.

“What?” she asked. His son was on an operating table right now fighting for his life, and this man was offering Clarke some kind of an apology?

“For threatening your father,” he murmured, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at his hands. “I crossed a line, and I’m sorry. You two are good people who don’t deserve this.” Clarke clenched her jaw, trying to make sense of his words. He was racked with guilt and grief, clearly not aware of what he was saying.

“I understand,” she forced herself to say, and it wasn’t even a lie. She understood why he did it, just like she understood why someone would shoot Cage Wallace. But understanding wasn’t the same as condoning.

“No, it’s just…” he mumbled before biting his lip, and Clarke forced herself to take a deep breath. “I threatened you, and yet you are the one who is here with me.”

It wasn’t like Clarke was given a vote on whether or not she came. She was thrown into the category of family despite the fact that she was certain that she would be one of the last people Cage would want to see if he makes it out alive.

“His mother isn’t here. Roan stopped being his friend years ago. Nia and Diana couldn’t care less about him. And Emerson…” he trailed off, and Clarke bit down hard on her lip. “But you’re here. So, thank you, and I’m sorry.”



Clarke drifted in and out of consciousness in the hours that they waited for Cage’s surgery to be complete. Dante was always awake, though. He looked too haunted to be able to sleep, and it scared the hell out of her. Occasionally, they would chat for a few minutes. It was never about anything serious. Neither of them wanted to talk about Cage, and Dante dismissed any attempted talk of politics.

During this chat, it was mostly Dante asking Clarke about her life… since they had run out of things to talk about. “Being in a hospital like this must bring back some bad memories,” he murmured, and Clarke blinked a few times. Right, in her story, her dad was supposed to have died in a hospital much like this one.

“It’s been a long time,” she whispered, and he nodded along sleepily.

Clarke closed her eyes again. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. Occasionally, a doctor or nurse would brush past them, and she’d perk back up hoping for news. But she wasn’t made to just sit somewhere for hours basically alone.

Alone… that word haunted her more than it should for someone who had spent a good majority of her life in some form of isolation. She broke away from her mother after her father passed, pushing her as far away as possible as Clarke tried to cope with her grief. Then, Marcus took her in… but she was still alone there, despite his best efforts to get her to talk and open up. She knew she should give him a chance, but she couldn’t look at him without seeing her father, without seeing someone else who made it out alive when her father didn’t.

She didn’t magically stop being alone when Bellamy showed up either. The only thing that made him different was that he was too angry at the world to tiptoe around Clarke, leading to one too many screaming matches where she called him out for being too rash and he called her heartless. It figures he would be the one to break her, to push her to the point where she couldn’t help but let someone else in. And for the first time in years, Clarke didn’t feel alone.

Too bad it didn’t last. At least she had Marcus when Bellamy left, someone there to remind her that she wasn’t alone even if she felt like it. But there was no one with her now to remind her she wasn’t alone… no one except Governor Dante Wallace, the man who changed the course of her life with a simple decision. It was here in this empty hospital wing with nothing but the sounds of Dante’s breathing and the occasional word from security down the hallway that Clarke realized just how much of a toll being alone had taken on her.

She heard some footsteps, so she jerked her eyes back open to see Dante standing up to meet Ontari who had just gotten past security. Clarke closed her eyes again, praying that she didn’t notice that Clarke was awake.

“They just need your okay to come back here,” Ontari whispered.

“No,” Dante cut her off. “Tell Nia and Diana that it’s just family allowed back here.” Family… Clarke wasn’t sure how she felt about being considered in Dante’s family. It was what she signed up for when she agreed to being the Trojan horse into this family… but it was easier when Dante hadn’t fully accepted her into it. Family felt like a trap.

“Okay, there is just one other thing,” Ontari murmured. “We got approval for a brief statement to the press.”

“He isn’t even out of surgery. I have nothing to say to the press. Just cover it for me,” Dante snapped, and Clarke blinked her eyes open again so she could catch his murderous expression.

“Sir, it wasn’t a request,” Ontari replied with an apology in her eyes, and Clarke swallowed.

“Tell Diana to go fuck herself,” he hissed, and Clarke had never once heard Dante refer to Diana in this way… never with this kind of hatred in his voice.

“She has a point. You are an elected official and the people of this state are reasonably upset about what is happening to your son,” Ontari argued in the fakest voice Clarke had ever heard, causing Clarke to nearly flinch at the implication. Diana was about to push Dante, a man who might have just lost his son, in front of cameras all because primary voting starts in mere hours. “Take Clarke with you for moral support.”

Dante turned back to look at her, and the apology in his eyes were clear as day. Dante didn’t have a choice… and neither did Clarke, it seemed. For a brief moment, Clarke felt less alone. There was one other person suffering in this hell with her, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears as he gestured for her to follow after him.

Clarke shot Ontari a nasty glare as she walked past her, taking the arm Dante offered with her as they headed with security toward the elevator. “I will do all the talking. You don’t have to say anything,” Dante whispered, and Clarke nodded along. She wouldn’t even know what to say. She didn’t have much experience in front of cameras.

The closest experience she had to the blinding flashing of the cameras as they stepped out of the hospital was the day Clarke walked in step with her mother up to the courthouse steps to watch her father’s sentencing.

She kept her eyes focused on Dante as he spoke, nodding along as he explained where the bullet was lodged and about the surgery that should be over any minute now. He kept it brief, turning as soon as reporters started asking questions, grabbing Clarke by the hand as he tugged her back inside.

The first face they saw inside was Diana Sydney’s… and a murderous gaze took over Dante’s eyes. “I am so sorry,” she tried to get out as Dante pulled Clarke along back to the elevator, not even offering her a word. Clarke looked at her shoulder back at her, seeing Nia and Roan seated behind her in the lobby. She locked eyes with Roan, and he narrowed his eyes, nodding subtly at her, communicating silently with her.

She let out a breath once she was in the elevator. The others were doing okay… she had to believe that’s what that nod meant.



When Cage was brought out of surgery, she and Dante were brought back to see him. She stood outside his room, giving Dante some time with his son. Regardless of Dante’s previous declarations, she knew that she wasn’t actually family.

So, she took advantage of Ontari’s offer to let her call Marcus where she wasn’t allowed to actually tell him anything and he had to be careful about what he said since it wasn’t on a secure line. “Wells and I are both at the house waiting on news,” he said carefully, and Clarke swallowed. So, Roan was at the hospital, and Wells and Marcus were the only ones back at the house. That meant everyone else was with Bellamy, which was a relief. He had his back watched by some brilliant people, so he was safe.

“I will give you updates when I have some to give. It’s been a long night,” she sighed, eyeing Ontari carefully who was standing less than five feet away from her. “I will probably ask you to bring me a change of clothes and maybe some food that didn’t come from a vending machine,” she murmured, and Marcus gave a sympathetic hum in response.

“How is Dante holding up?” he asked, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut. She had spent an entire night with that man watching every way someone could break down, feeling all sorts of conflicted feelings over his misery.

“Not great. I don’t think he’s slept at all,” Clarke murmured, her mind drifting back to Dante’s reactions to Diana Sydney. It was no secret that Diana Sydney had been using her influence over him to control him… she had just never witnessed Dante not being a willing participant in Sydney’s plans. There was a rift between them now… a distance that wasn’t there before tonight as far as she knew.

“Look, hang in there. Let me know when you aren’t under lock down and I can come get you. Wells grabbed some stuff from your house so that you can stay here,” he explained, and Clarke knew that was code for her house being drowned with paparazzi. “I, uh, saw you and Dante on the news. That footage has been everywhere,” he explained, and Clarke clenched her eyes shut. Diana Sydney really was going to plaster the image of Clarke and Dante, sleep deprived, tearful, and both still wearing Cage’s blood on their clothes, everywhere she could. After all, no one would vote against a man like that. It tugged at the heartstrings of voters. The election didn’t even need to be rigged anymore. It was his. All it might have cost him was his son, who still hadn’t woken up yet.

She was about to say something when Dante stepped out of the room. He raised an eyebrow before Ontari said, “She is talking with Marcus.”

“Hey, I need to go,” Clarke said before hanging up. He gestured with his head toward Cage’s room, and Clarke handed the phone back to Ontari, thanking her.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting to see. It wasn’t like Clarke hadn’t seen a gunshot victim before. But she wasn’t used to see Cage Wallace, the powerful son of Dante Wallace, looking so pale and fragile. Then again, she wasn’t used to seeing Dante Wallace so broken, or Diana Sydney so panicked… No one was quite themselves anymore. At least Clarke had that in common with these monsters.



She and Dante settled on watching I Love Lucy reruns while waiting beside Cage’s hospital bed. It was the only channel that didn’t constantly get interrupted with news that the shooter was a woman based on the size of the footprint left on the scene or with coverage of Dante’s evisceration of the other candidates in the primary.

Both of them kept nodding off, only waking back up when Ontari brought them food or came with updates on the investigation. After a while, they were finally given their phones back… not that it made a difference at this point. Clarke knew she was being monitored by someone, meaning she couldn’t actually talk to the people she was desperate to talk to.

“Clarke,” she heard Dante say, making her realize she had fallen asleep again.

“Clarke?” Cage’s voice whispered, and Clarke’s head snapped up. She blinked a few times, looking out the window seeing that the sun was starting to set. “Hey,” he said, and she got up from her chair to walk over to him. His eyes fell shut again as she stood next to the bed.

“Hey, how long has he been awake?” Clarke asked.

“Just a few minutes,” Dante said with a huge grin on his face.

“I should give you two a minute,” Clarke remembered, taking a step back before Cage grabbed her hand.

“No, stay,” he slurred, and Clarke forced herself to squeeze his hand back even though his touch made her want to throw up. He kept a firm grip on her hand, a lot like his tight grip he usually had on her when they were together and only let go when the doctors asked Clarke and Dante to step out while they run some tests.

She fell asleep again as they waited for them to be done, only waking up when Ontari nudged her awake. Dante was down the hall making phone calls, likely alerting his family to the fact that Cage was awake. Clarke stepped back into Cage’s hospital room, and his face lit up when he saw her.

Clarke cautiously approached him, wondering if he suffered some kind of brain injury when he got shot. He never smiled at her like this… maybe it was just the drugs being pumped through the system. “How are you feeling?” Clarke asked, and he grabbed her hand again. Not even his father was around this time to justify his sudden affectionate streak.

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes again. She drug her chair over so she could sit next to him again, ignoring the way her stomach clenched as he played with her hand. Clarke rarely ever had to think about the way she was using Cage, and never in a context where she felt bad about what she was doing. But this right here… it was getting close to that territory. He had just been shot and was delirious and looking at Clarke as if he were in love with her… and Clarke hated herself for every second of this. “Y’know, I am a shitty boyfriend.”

“Cage,” Clarke sighed. She didn’t want to have this conversation. She didn’t want to have any conversation. She just wanted to go to Marcus’ house and get this blood off her and sleep and cry. She wanted to finally process the mess that was her night. She wanted to tell Marcus every horrifying detail of Dante’s breakdown, to explain that they could take advantage of the rift between Dante and Diana, to hear what the fuck is happening with Bellamy and the others as they hunt down this gunman. She didn’t want to be here for Cage’s apologies, not anymore than she wanted to hear Dante’s earlier. These monsters could never properly apologize for what they had put Clarke and dozens of others through. They couldn’t bring her dad back to life. They couldn’t make it safe for her mother ever again. They couldn’t bring back Marcus’ friends. They couldn’t bring back Wells’ dad. They couldn’t bring Aurora Blake back. They couldn’t undo the nightmare that became all their lives. The least they could do for Clarke was to shut up and stop making her feel guilty for what she was very rightfully doing to them in response. They could stop killing Clarke by reminding her that they are people too, people who could lose loved ones or could feel any kind of remorse… they could let her just think of them as monsters so that she could sleep at night.

“No, I am,” he slurred, and Clarke let her head fall on the mattress beside him. “But I’m going to do better, I promise.”

“It’s okay,” she forced herself to say, squeezing his hand so that she didn’t have to sit up and let him see the tears that were threatening to pour out of her eyes. She hated that she felt bad for Cage, that her heart broke while watching Dante fall apart. She shouldn’t feel anything for these people other than hate.

“Love you,” he whispered, and that was all it took for the floodgates to open. He didn’t mean it, of course. She knew that. He was out of it and confused, likely because she was one of two people that was waiting for him to wake up.

But it didn’t matter, because Clarke had to find a way to utter those words back to him. There was only one man who had earned that confession from Clarke, the same man that she had been too scared to say them to since he returned to her. And now… she had to say these words to him instead.

“Love you too,” she choked out, and yet another line was crossed.



Kane picked her up from the hospital late that night after Clarke promised Cage three different times that she would be back as soon as she got a full night of sleep, and even Dante seemed weirded out by Cage’s sudden neediness. Kane chalked it up to being the result of being shot, arguing that he will be back to normal as soon as he gets over almost dying.

“So, what really happened while I was trapped in there?” Clarke whispered.

“Well, Diana Sydney and her friends at all the major news outlets played up the grieving father narrative all day and Dante Wallace is now a presidential candidate,” he replied, and Clarke threw her head back. She knew that much. And they didn’t have to rig the election, meaning that plan died as well. They were back to relying on Roan and Raven figuring out how to crack the final security measure.

“That’s not what I’m asking about,” she snapped, and he clenched his jaw.

“Bellamy is meeting us at the house with an update, apparently,” he sighed as he turned onto his street. “Raven and Monty have had their hands full, that much I can tell you. And apparently Miller and Murphy are still out tracking the gunman.”

“Gunwoman,” Clarke corrected, and he nodded along. “And you and Wells have been…?”

“On standby and trying to get over the fact that you were just inches away from being in the line of fire,” he huffed, and Clarke blinked a few times. She had been in that hospital for so long that she had started to forget how the people around her would react to what happened.

He pulled into the driveway, tugging off his seatbelt quickly, and Clarke leaned over and grabbed his arm. “I didn’t get hurt, remember?” she reminded, but it did nothing to calm him down as he got out of the car. She let out a sigh as she followed after him, mentally bracing herself for whatever she was about to walk into this time.

When she opened the door, Wells came barreling towards her, gripping her in such a tight hug as Clarke buried her face into his shoulder. “I’m so glad to see you,” he whispered, and she nodded into his shoulder.

“Glad to see you too,” she murmured, pulling her head up to see Bellamy jog into the room. Her eyes locked with his, and she could see that he had been crying. She barely got out of Wells’ grip before Bellamy grabbed her, peppering her face with kisses as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Goddammit Clarke, don’t ever scare me like this again,” he whispered, and Clarke nodded into his shoulder, feeling her eyes start to tear up all over again. She didn’t realize how desperately she needed to feel him, and she was crying out in relief that he was here with her right now. “I love you so much,” he murmured right into her ear, and Clarke so desperately wanted to say it back. She loved him too… too damn much. But those words felt so false, so inadequate, so wrong after she uttered them to Cage. It was like those words were tainted now, like Clarke was tainted now.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Marcus cleared his throat to get their attention before she had the chance. “Bellamy, what happened?” he asked as Clarke stepped out of Bellamy’s embrace, watching with interest as Bellamy’s jaw clenched.

“She got away, but Murphy and Miller are still tracking her with Raven and Monty’s help,” he said shakily, and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows.

“Who?” Marcus asked, stepping toward him with a panicked look in his eyes. Clarke glanced up at Bellamy who had the most conflicted look in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, looking at Clarke with a sorrowful look in his eyes. Then, he snapped his mouth shut and closed his eyes as if trying to prepare himself for something.

“His sister, Octavia Blake,” Wells said when Bellamy couldn’t.

Chapter Text

“You’re going to want to see this,” Raven said over the speaker, and Bellamy spotted a light flickering on in the window of the apartment that probably belonged to the shooter. That Murphy got inside without problem.

“What is it?” Bellamy mumbled, as Miller said, “the apartment is empty,” over the earpiece. Bellamy let out a groan, turning back around in his seat and propping his feet up on the dashboard. He should have known the shooter wouldn’t go back home. This person knew what they were doing.

A text from Raven showed up on his phone with a link. He clicked it, seeing video footage of Clarke standing beside Dante Wallace outside the hospital making a statement about Cage. “He’s still alive,” Monty explained, and Bellamy nodded along. He got lucky that this shooter wasn’t the best shot… either that or they didn’t shoot to kill.

Clarke looked badly shaken, and so did Dante. He still hadn’t heard back from Marcus about if he had gotten ahold of her, but Bellamy doubted it. Monty hadn’t even been able to pick up on anything going on inside that hospital. He had to hope that Clarke would be okay in there… but it was hard to be optimistic. She was trapped in enemy territory, and he knew isolation was hard for her.

“He just won the primary,” Bellamy realized, blinking a few times. No one would vote against a man whose son was fighting for his life. Anyone who was on the fence would jump to Dante, especially after seeing how broken Cage’s father and girlfriend appear. It was a brilliant, sick political move.

“That’s not our primary focus right now,” Raven reminded, and Bellamy bit down on his lip as he looked out the car window again. The light was off in the apartment now, meaning Miller and Murphy would be down any minute now.

Bellamy’s phone rang, and it was the same number he saw before, so he didn’t hesitate to answer the call. But he was careful this time, not saying a word as he held the phone to his ear. He sat there in silence for a few moments as Murphy and Miller approached the car, and he motioned for them to stay quiet.

“I am already out of town,” a voice that he hadn’t heard in years said, and Bellamy’s face paled.

“O?” he whispered. No, it couldn’t be her. She wasn’t even in the country last time he checked. “Please, tell me you didn’t pull the trigger,” he pleaded, throwing his head back. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew it was true. No one else would be this reckless. No one else was this angry.

“Dante took our mom, Bell. So, I took his son,” she said coolly, and Bellamy swallowed. His sister just shot Cage Wallace. His sister just shot the son of the man who might very well become president. His sister took the shot that was just inches away from missing Clarke.

“You can’t just… O, there is so much more to this than you know,” he stuttered out, but she had already hung up on him. His worst nightmares were being realized. This was probably the closest he had been to his sister in years, but it was clear that she wasn’t coming back from this.

Six years ago, he tried to explain everything to her. He filled in the gaps he could, explaining that their mother being murdered was just one of dozens of incidents like it… a coverup to keep that scandalous affair far from the Wallace’s. Their story wasn’t unlike Murphy’s or Atom’s.

He tried his best to bring Octavia to see what Clarke and Marcus had shown him… that a simple revenge killing wouldn’t stop these men from doing something like it again. There were too many of them. But Bellamy should have known that after Octavia took that first shot all those years ago that she wasn’t coming back any time soon.

“Bellamy,” Miller snapped, and Bellamy finally looked up to see his panicked expression in his eyes.

“It was Octavia,” he murmured, shaking his head. Murphy started the car quickly, jerking all of them backwards as he sped up to the light. “What are you doing?” Bellamy snapped.

“Taking you to Monty and Raven,” Murphy muttered, and Bellamy glanced back at Miller who ducked his head.


“You have that look in your eyes that you did when you asked me to take out Dante Wallace. You’re not thinking straight, so I’m taking you home,” Murphy huffed.

“I am fine,” Bellamy yelled.

“You are literally shaking,” Miller pointed out, and Bellamy looked down at his trembling hands. He hadn’t even noticed that.

“I’m fine to keep going,” he stuttered out. Even if he wasn’t fine, he had to keep going. His sister, his responsibility. She just shot a man and he had to go deal with that. He might have failed the last time, but he won’t fail again.

“You told me to stop you from doing something reckless, remember?” Murphy hissed, and Bellamy clenched his jaw. “So, I’m taking you back to Monty and Raven so you can cool down.”

“Murphy!” he shouted, slamming his hand on the dashboard.

“Bellamy, we will knock you out if we have to,” Miller snapped.

“Bring him back and we’ll keep an eye on him,” Monty said over the speaker, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut. He was outnumbered.



“I think they made the right call,” Raven whispered while Bellamy was looking over her shoulder.

“Shut up,” he muttered. It had been hours since Murphy and Miller dragged him back here before taking off after Octavia when Monty got a hit on a gas station out of the state.

“She’s your little sister, right? You really think you could keep a level head around her?” Raven asked, and Bellamy rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to her.

“You don’t know me,” he reminded her, and she scoffed at him.

“I know that if Cage had pulled Clarke any closer, it could be her in that hospital instead of him. And I know that you’ve already thought of that. I highly doubt you’d be able to stay calm around your sister when that came up in conversation,” she muttered, and Bellamy’s eyes fluttered shut as he took a deep breath. Clarke didn’t get shot and that’s what matters. He can’t get caught up in what ifs or else he won’t be able to stay sane.

“Have you gotten any more updates on Clarke?” he asked, changing the subject as Monty came back into the room with coffee for both of them.

“He got on the phone with Clarke for a few moments before she got pulled away, but Clarke wasn’t able to actually tell him anything,” Monty explained, and Bellamy bit his lip. He wanted to call Marcus to get the details himself, but he knew that the second he did, he would have to tell him about Octavia. And everyone agreed to keep Marcus out of this until they had to tell him. He was already a nervous wreck tonight, if Wells’ reports were anything to go by.

Monty shot Bellamy a warning look, and he grabbed the tablet in his hands again, getting back to work figuring out how they had missed Octavia getting so close to Mt. Weather. After all these years of trying to keep tabs on her, Bellamy thought he had gotten pretty good at figuring out when Octavia was close by… but then again, Bellamy has been distracted lately.

“The authorities know the shooter was a woman,” Raven said, and Bellamy’s stomach clenched. The good news was that no one in Mt. Weather found out about Octavia being born and the list of people who would want to hurt Dante Wallace was far too long for him to ever consider the daughter of a woman he never even met to be responsible.

Bellamy pushed himself up, walking toward the front door. “Bellamy,” Monty called out, and Bellamy put his hands on his head.

“I just need a minute,” Bellamy growled. His head was spinning. Clarke was in the hospital, trapped with Dante Wallace. Octavia was on the run from the authorities, and Bellamy couldn’t save her this time because there was an entire room full of witnesses. He couldn’t talk to either of them right now, and he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it. He was sidelined… for good reason. But Bellamy can’t just sit and do nothing.

“Bellamy,” Monty said quieter this time, and Bellamy turned to see him standing just two feet from him. “Talk to me.”

“What am I supposed to say?” he choked out. “My sister doesn’t want to be found, so I can’t get to her and talk her out of whatever ridiculous plan she has this time.”

“I know,” he whispered.

“No, you don’t,” Bellamy hissed.

“I think I do,” Monty snapped, and Bellamy’s face fell. Bellamy knew better than to snap at Monty over this… it hadn’t been that long since Jasper. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved,” he murmured. Bellamy opened his mouth, trying to find the words he needed… but they escaped him. “Octavia isn’t done being angry. She doesn’t want your help. You can keep trying, and you should because she’s your sister… but this isn’t your fault.”

“Yes,” Bellamy sighed, blinking his eyes rapidly as he looked up to fight the tears away, “it is my fault.”



“Where is she?” Bellamy huffed as he stormed into Kane’s living room.

“On her way from the hospital. Take a breath,” Wells warned, his eyes darting nervously across Bellamy’s face. Bellamy had no doubt that the others had kept Wells informed about Bellamy’s numerous panic attacks throughout the last twenty-four hours… that was clear as day as Wells studied Bellamy as if Bellamy were about to collapse at any second. “I know you guys know who the shooter is.”

Bellamy swallowed. This would be as much practice as he was going to get for when he ultimately had to tell Marcus the truth. “It’s my sister, Octavia,” he whispered, nearly choking on those words.

“Your sister,” Wells repeated, and Bellamy nodded. “Well, that explains why Miller and Murphy are off without you.” Bellamy opened his mouth to explain, but Wells held his hand up to stop him. “Save the argument for Kane. I understand, I promise.”

Before Bellamy could get a word out, they heard the front door open and Wells sprinted past Bellamy on his way to Clarke. He gripped her in a tight hug before she even got a chance to say hello, and Bellamy let out a breath. She looked okay. A bit pale and tired… but from here she looked okay.

As soon as Wells started to pull away, Bellamy had his arms around Clarke, kissing her frantically all over her face. She was here and she was safe… that’s all that mattered right now.

“Goddammit Clarke, don’t ever scare me like this again,” he pleaded. He couldn’t lose Clarke again. That’s the only thing he wouldn’t be able to survive.

She buried her face into his shoulder, and Bellamy felt like he could finally breathe again. “I love you so much,” he reminded her.

“Bellamy,” Marcus said, jerking Bellamy out of the moment, “what happened?” Clarke stepped out of his arms before Bellamy was ready to let go. He needed just another moment before the storm that was going to follow.

“She got away,” Bellamy started, scared to say her name in front of Marcus… not after the last time they talked about Octavia. “But Murphy and Miller are still tracking her with Raven and Monty’s help.”

Marcus took a step toward him before asking calmly, “Who?”

Bellamy glanced over at Clarke, whose eyes were wide as she stared at him. He just needed to blurt it out, to rip this band-aid off, to get it out so that he can start apologizing for what he let happen.

“His sister, Octavia Blake,” Wells finally said, likely growing impatient as he stalled. Bellamy kept his eyes on Clarke, too scared to look at Marcus yet. Clarke’s blue eyes softened, and her hand found his, and Bellamy let out a breath. “She made it out of the state, and Raven just told me that Miller and Murphy are close.”

“They need to be careful,” was all Marcus said, and Bellamy finally looked up to meet his eyes.

“Octavia knows them. She’s not going to shoot them,” Bellamy reassured, and Marcus narrowed his eyes at him. Then, he turned to look at Clarke as if this were just a normal conversation.

“So, Wells put your stuff upstairs in the guest room. I’m assuming you’d like to get cleaned up,” he suggested to Clarke, gesturing to the blood splatter that was still on her dress. Clarke’s eyes shot up to Bellamy, checking in to make sure Bellamy would be okay if she left. He squeezed her hand before letting go. As much as he didn’t want her to leave his sight, he also knew that she went through hell in that hospital and deserved to get cleaned up. Bellamy could handle Marcus on his own.

Clarke broke away from them, looking exhausted as she climbed up those steps. Marcus didn’t offer Bellamy a word as he crossed into the kitchen. Bellamy locked eyes with Wells who had a panicked expression on his face. “What?”

“Why is Marcus acting like you just murdered someone right in front of him?” Wells asked, and Bellamy let out a breath.

“Because I’m pretty sure he wishes I never came back,” Bellamy mumbled as he walked into the kitchen. Marcus was pouring two drinks, grabbing a third glass when Wells followed after Bellamy. “Do you really not have anything to say about it being Octavia who pulled the trigger?”

“Not really,” Marcus muttered, sliding his glass down the counter toward Bellamy, who begrudgingly took it. If he was about to get yelled at by Kane again, he might as well be a bit buzzed.

“Well, this is oddly passive aggressive,” Wells huffed as he grabbed his drink from Marcus and jumped up on the counter.

“Not being passive aggressive. I know better,” Kane said, now turning to look at Bellamy. “I would just like to know when I can expect you to leave this time.”

“Excuse me?” Bellamy growled, taking a step forward.

“You heard me,” Marcus sighed. “How much longer until you take off to go deal with your sister? I am running this operation, so I need to know when I can stop counting on you.”

“Kane,” Wells warned, but Bellamy held his hand up.

“I’m staying. I told you and Clarke that,” he reminded, narrowing his eyes at Marcus.

“That was before your sister started getting into trouble again. Last time, you were ready to run out the door when she turned up,” Marcus snapped, and Bellamy’s jaw clenched.

“Weren’t you the one to tell Bellamy where he could find her?” Wells added in, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at Marcus.

“Yes, but I was also the one who warned him about what he was going to find. He didn’t listen then, so why would he now?” Marcus muttered as if Bellamy weren’t standing two feet in front of him.

“If I was going to go after my sister this time, do you think I would still be here right now?” Bellamy snapped, jerking Marcus back into focus.

“I think that your guilt is going to get the better of you and you’ll leave sooner rather than later. I’d rather you walk out the door right this second if you’re going to leave us again,” Marcus yelled, and Wells jumped off the counter to push them away from each other.

“I came back!” Bellamy shouted back, and Wells shot him another warning look.

“The damage was already done,” Marcus growled. “All our plans went out the door the second you left because you were a vital part of all of them. I depended on you. And Clarke—”

“Leave Clarke out of this,” Bellamy warned, and Marcus’ eyes narrowed.

“Wells, how many years did it take for Clarke to trust you?” Marcus asked, and Wells let out a loud groan.

“Stop,” Bellamy said.

“I understand why you left. I told you that you could. You did what you needed to do. But if you came back only to leave again so help me—”

“I am staying!” Bellamy screamed.

“Both of you shut up!” Wells shouted, and Bellamy blinked a few times as he stepped back. He hadn’t heard Wells raise his voice since the night that Clarke was kidnapped. He turned to look at him, seeing him looking up at the ceiling.

“What?” Marcus asked.

“You two are yelling loudly enough that it could be heard from everywhere in the house,” Wells whispered.

“It’s just us and Clarke,” Bellamy reminded.

“Yeah, so why hasn’t she come rushing down here to see what you two are screaming about?” Wells asked, and Bellamy broke away to jog toward the stairs.

“Clarke,” he called out when he got to the top of the stairs, walking down the hallway toward the guest bedroom. He knocked twice before barging in, and she wasn’t in the bedroom. Light flickered out from under the door of the bathroom, and Bellamy moved to knock on that door. “Clarke, it’s me,” he said quietly, pressing his ear to the door.

“Is it just you?” he heard her whisper back, her voice sounding shaky. Bellamy glanced over his shoulder, seeing Wells and Marcus standing in the doorway with panicked expressions on their faces.

“I’ve got this,” Bellamy mouthed, gesturing for them to go. He waited until Wells closed the door behind him before he said, “Yeah, it’s just me, princess. Can I come in?”

“Okay,” she murmured, and Bellamy slowly opened the door, finding Clarke sitting on the floor, still dressed as the tears poured down her cheeks. He closed the door behind him before taking a seat beside her, holding out his hand. Her eyes finally met his as she rested her head on the cabinet beside her. “Hi,” she whispered with a sniffle before taking his hand.

“Hi,” he said, turning to face her as he rested his head on the cabinet too. “What’s going on, princess?” he asked quietly, praying that she didn’t hear him and Marcus screaming at each other downstairs. That was the last thing Clarke needed to hear. He knew she still doubted that he would stay this time… that much was clear every time he saw her waver around him or flinch when he told her that he loved her. She was terrified that he was going to leave… and he didn’t need to make that even worse.

“There is blood in my hair,” she choked out, and Bellamy swallowed. “I have had his blood on me for more than 24 hours.”

“Let’s get you in the shower and into clean clothes,” he whispered, letting his thumb trace over the back of her hand. “You’ll feel better. I promise.”

“No, I won’t,” she murmured. “They called me family. I’m plotting against them, and they call me family.”

“Clarke,” he warned, now seeing this breakdown for what it was: guilt. It was something Bellamy was all too familiar with. “The Wallace’s deserve what’s coming to them.”

“Cage was almost killed,” Clarke said, looking down at where their hands met. “Every time he wakes up, he asks for me.” Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows at that. He had heard from Monty that Kane said Cage was acting strangely since becoming conscious again… but this was very off. Cage didn’t give a damn about Clarke. She was just a trophy to that family. “I am going to destroy them,” she said shakily, “and I am doing it by becoming just like them.”

“Clarke, you know that’s not true,” Bellamy snapped, pulling her closer to him. “You are nothing like them.”

“I am doing to them what they did to my father,” she stuttered out. “Dante, Diana, Nia… they were all his friends. They lured him in and let him take the fall.”

“The difference is that your father was innocent, and they are not,” Bellamy reminded, and Clarke just started shaking her head rapidly as the tears continued to flow. He gripped her face between his hands, making her look up at him as he whispered, “You are not just like them. You are Clarke. And I love you.”

“How?” she snapped, and Bellamy blinked a few times. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that question. She knew that he loved her, that he never stopped loving her. “I’m not even a person anymore. I’m not Clarke. I’m a heartless monster that lies and says she loves someone when she is plotting the demise of his family…”

“Clarke,” he said sharper, but she wasn’t even looking at him.

“I am using him. I was kidnapped one day and selling myself to the Wallace’s the next day. I didn’t even blink when I shot Emerson,” she rambled. “And the more I listened to Dante, the more I realized that I’m just like him.”

“No,” he snapped, and her eyes finally jerked up to meet his. “You are doing what you have to do, but this isn’t who you really are. You are still you.”

“You don’t—” she tried to get out before he cut her off with a bruising kiss. She sobbed into his mouth as he ran his fingers through her tangled hair, pulling her as close to him as he could.

“I know you can’t see what I see right now,” Bellamy whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “But I promise you. You’re still Clarke. You’re hurting right now because you know what it’s like to lose someone you love. You care. And even when someone deserves pain, you don’t have an easy time seeing them in pain.”

“Bellamy,” she sighed, but he didn’t let her pull away.

“You aren’t becoming like them. You’re doing what you have to. I’m holding the real Clarke right now. You are still you, I promise,” he pleaded, staring down those teary blue eyes of hers. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, and Bellamy loosened his grip on her. Clarke buried her face into his shirt, heaving against the fabric. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on top of hers as she cried.



Wells took off after Bellamy got Clarke into the shower, leaving the tension between Bellamy and Marcus still hanging in the air. “Are you actually going to stay?” he finally asked, and Bellamy nodded. “What about Octavia?”

“She doesn’t want to see me. And I don’t know how I’ll handle being around her given what could have happened,” Bellamy sighed, running his fingers through his curls. “Murphy and Miller know how to handle her.”

“We have a bigger problem with Octavia,” he said sternly, and Bellamy bit his lip. “Cage survived. Whatever Octavia’s motives were, I can’t imagine she is okay with that result.”

Bellamy wanted to believe that Octavia was too smart to come back to finish the job, but he knew what it was like to be blinded by rage all too well. “There isn’t much we can do until Murphy and Miller get to her,” Bellamy mumbled, hating just how helpless he was.

“Someone needs to tell her the full truth before she accidentally targets Wells or Clarke just because of their ties to the Wallace’s,” he explained, and this was a fear that Bellamy was too scared to think about. She had no problem killing Cage to hurt Dante, so he feared what else she would have no problem with doing if it meant getting revenge.

Before Bellamy could respond, Marcus’ phone started ringing. “Yeah?” he answered before making a strange face as he put the phone on speaker.

“And I was just wondering if you guys have figured out who the shooter is?” Roan asked, and Bellamy clenched his jaw. He didn’t want Roan knowing the truth. He didn’t trust him, not with his sister.

“No, not yet,” Marcus lied, and Bellamy locked eyes with him, silently thanking him.

“Fuck,” Roan said a bit too frantically, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows.

“Roan, what’s going on?” Marcus asked with a slight panic in his voice.

“My mother got tipped off on suspect number one,” Roan explained, and Bellamy’s stomach dropped. Someone else was going to go down for this… not Octavia. A person who did not kill Cage Wallace was going to take the fall, and that thought made Bellamy want to throw up. This wasn’t like the last time Octavia did something like this. This was public and on video. She shot the son of a presidential candidate, and the public will demand an answer.

He couldn’t think of a time in history where a shooting like this happened and no one was charged. He knew that they would never catch Octavia. She was too good at disappearing and would be out the country before they even suspected her. But someone had to be held responsible.

“Who?” Marcus asked.

“Echo,” Roan huffed, and Bellamy’s jaw ticked. Echo wasn’t exactly the most innocent person on this earth. He had no idea how many bodies she had buried for Nia… but it was enough for him to know that he never wanted to be alone with her for too long. “She’s the only person they can come up with who would have motive and wasn’t at the event.”

“Do you think she did it?” Marcus asked, and Roan fell silent. Then, Bellamy remembered that Echo did try to help Clarke get away from Cage. She wasn’t completely bad. There was a part of her that looked out for someone she didn’t even know.

“No,” Roan finally said. “I know she didn’t. I know where she was that night,” he whispered.

“Well, if she has an alibi, she should be okay,” Marcus decided.

“No one can corroborate her alibi. The only person who could is legally dead,” Roan explained, and Bellamy’s eyes widened. “And I can’t find Echo or get ahold of her now, but I assume she’s on the run.”

“What do you mean by legally dead?” Marcus asked, gripping the side of the couch. The stairs creaked, and Bellamy saw Clarke start to walk down the stairs with a curious look on her face.

“She didn’t kill Charles Pike. She just made him disappear.”

Chapter Text

Clarke passed by the usual nurses on the way toward Cage’s room, making sure to smile at everyone who waved at her. She spotted Roan stepping out of Cage’s room, and Clarke halted, raising an eyebrow at him. Instead of his usual smirk, Roan greeted her by pressing his lips together and gesturing with his head for Clarke to follow him down the hallway.

She sped up her strides to catch up to him, wondering why the hell Roan would bother to come see Cage. “Have you noticed anything off about him?” Roan whispered as soon as they were out of the room’s earshot.

“He is a little bit needy,” Clarke muttered. Cage had been insistent that Clarke see him as often as possible, which was hampering her ability to help Bellamy, Marcus, and Wells deal with the Echo situation.

“He apologized to me,” Roan said, and Clarke raised an eyebrow. Cage had apologized to her too. In fact, he hadn’t stopped apologizing. Every time she saw him, he had another apology. If he were another man, Clarke might think that his near-death experience had made him want to be a better man. “What do you mean by him being needy?”

“He just…” Clarke sighed, looking over her shoulder toward his room. “He seems to want me around a lot, is a little more affectionate with me than he used to be. That’s all.”

“Clarke,” Roan said sharply, and she turned back to look at him… noticing a very grave expression on his face. “You need to be careful around him. Something isn’t right with him.”

“Well, he was shot,” Clarke blew it off, shaking her head. She knew that something was off about Cage, but she wasn’t going to get to the bottom of it any time soon.

“Speaking of,” Roan replied, and Clarke swallowed. “What are you guys doing about Echo?”

“She hasn’t turned up yet?” Clarke asked, though she already knew the answer to that question. Raven and Monty couldn’t find her, and if Echo really was the kind of person that Clarke suspected her to be, she would be surprised if Echo ever resurfaced again with the allegations against her.

“No, and she isn’t checking in with me,” he explained, and Clarke could see the panic in his eyes.

“Your mom will cover this up for her, right?” she asked nervously. That was Echo’s best hope of getting off the hook, short of someone figuring out who actually did it. But there was no way in hell that Bellamy would let Octavia take the fall for this, even if it was her who did it.

“She covers up things that don’t get much attention, not things like this. There were hundreds of witnesses. She can’t help her without jeopardizing her own career,” Roan groaned, and Clarke bit her lip.

“Hey,” Clarke said quickly, grabbing his arm. “We will figure this out,” she promised, though she knew that she shouldn’t. Clarke knew better than to make promises she couldn’t keep… but she really wanted to keep this one. There had to be a way to get Echo off the hook without damning Octavia. There just had to be. “I should probably go see him now,” she muttered, and Roan grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“I mean it. Be careful around him. I don’t like the way he’s acting,” Roan whispered before letting go and taking off down the hallway.

Clarke closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. She could handle Cage Wallace. Whatever this was… she would get through it. She had to.

When Clarke finally stepped into his room, a huge grin formed on his face, making her feel uneasy. “How are you feeling?” she asked as he propped himself up.

“Much better now,” he smirked, reaching his hand out toward her. She set her bag down before taking her spot in the seat beside his bed, and he grabbed her hand. Clarke was here more than anyone, per Cage’s request. Dante was frequently sent away by Cage, who is adamant that he is fine, and his father should be focusing on his campaign.

Clarke was about to start her prepared small talk for the day, when Ontari came barging in. “Oh, I didn’t realize you would be here,” Ontari said, already turning to leave.

“No, it’s okay,” Cage stopped her, and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows. Ontari should be with Dante, not coming in to visit Cage. “You don’t mind, right?” Cage asked her.

“Mind what?” she asked as Ontari slowly closed the door.

“We’re going over what I covered in the earlier meeting that he couldn’t come to,” Ontari said, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at Cage. He was working on the campaign from the hospital. She shouldn’t be surprised. Cage was obsessed with the campaign before he was shot, and she can only imagine that he will only become more obsessive now that his father is an official presidential candidate.

“You are supposed to be resting,” Clarke reminded, and Cage squeezed her hand.

“I am resting,” Cage huffed, before turning his attention back to Ontari who was handing him a folder.

“We still don’t have much on Diyoza, but this is as much as the media knows,” Ontari explained, and Clarke let out a sigh as soon as Cage let go of her hand to go through the folder. She leaned back in her chair, pretending to be disinterested in what they were talking about.

“How the hell did she end up being their candidate? No one even knows who she is,” Cage muttered. If Cage getting shot hadn’t dominated the news cycle, all the media would be talking about Charmaine Diyoza. Bellamy had given her a briefing on her, but none of them thought she would be elected. She was pretty much a nobody with no public office experience.

“Your party wasn’t the only one to be full of scandal in the days leading up to the primary. If the party hadn’t split so much, there is no way she would have gotten the nomination,” Ontari explained, and Clarke bit her lip. It also didn’t hurt that Diyoza was a woman in a sea of old men running for office and more of a moderate than any other candidate.

“Military background…” Cage mumbled, flipping through the papers. “I think you should run the numbers for what would happen if my father flipped his stance on gun control.”

“What?” Ontari snapped, and this caught Clarke’s attention too. She knew that Dante’s stances were pretty solidified by Diana Sydney herself, curated perfectly to increase her profit margins. If he suddenly became pro-gun control, Diana and her friends would be set to lose a lot of money.

“Diyoza’s big issue is gun control. If we’re on the same side on the issue, it wouldn’t be a point she would attack us for. Plus, I was just shot. I feel like it would make sense that my father had a change of heart,” Cage spat, and Clarke ducked her head before either of them saw her shocked reaction. She was no stranger to Dante and Cage being vicious toward Ontari… but they were both actively doing things to piss off Diana Sydney now, which almost made Clarke scared for them.

“I don’t think that—”

“Just run the numbers,” Cage snapped. Luckily, Ontari’s phone started ringing and she had to take the call outside the room, giving Clarke a moment to catch her breath. “You’re oddly quiet,” he whispered, and Clarke glanced up to see him eyeing her.

“I just don’t want to get in the way,” she shrugged.

“What do you think?” he asked, and Clarke’s eyes widened. He never asks her about her opinions on these things, not really. And based on how he was looking at her, she was pretty sure he actually cared what she thought for once.

“Well, you know where I stand on gun control,” she deflected, and he only raised his eyebrows at her. “I think it would make your father seem even more sympathetic,” she finally added in, leaving out the added benefit of deepening the rift between the Wallace’s and Diana Sydney.

“That’s what I was thinking,” he explained, and she nodded along. “Might as well make some use out of some psycho shooting me.”

“Most people think that psycho is Echo,” Clarke whispered, watching his eyes carefully as he reacted to those words. Luckily, he just rolled his eyes, not indicating any knowledge of who actually shot him.

“Echo didn’t shoot me,” he muttered, throwing his head back. “She is a lot of things but stupid isn’t one of them.” Clarke cocked her head to the side, thinking that over. Cage really didn’t think that Echo shot him. He had given her no indication that he knew who the shooter was, and neither had Dante… meaning both of them clearly thought something was up with the accusation that it was her.

“Well, whoever owns the media is working really hard to make her look guilty, then,” Clarke shrugged. She watched as he stiffened at those words, likely thinking of the very woman who can pull all the strings she wants in the national news networks. He blinked a few times before looking back at Clarke with furrowed brows, and she cocked her head innocently to the side as if she didn’t just plant into his head that Diana Sydney was framing Echo for some reason. “Something wrong?”

“Uh, will you hand me my phone?” he asked, pointing to the table behind her. She handed it to him with an easy smile. “Hey, do you think you could go downstairs and grab me a paper?” he asked, and she was already standing up. She was sure he had some important phone calls to make now and had to fight not to smirk at that.

“Of course,” she replied, leaning down to kiss his cheek before leaving.



Dante’s absence at Diana’s brunch was only slightly more obvious than Nia’s. Dante was at least explainable. His son had been shot, giving him the perfect excuse to blow off any social function he wants. But Clarke could see Diana practically interrogating Roan across the green about his mother’s sudden absence.

When Marcus had called her about the meeting taking place at Dante’s house tonight just hours ago, letting her in on the few things that Bellamy had found out from Dante. Cage took the insinuation that Clarke dropped about Diana Sydney and just ran with it.

It certainly didn’t help that Diana Sydney pushed Dante in front of the cameras and milked Cage getting shot to get a win in the primary. Nor did it help that she seemed adamant that Echo was responsible. If Clarke didn’t know who was actually responsible for the shooting, she would have a hard time arguing that Diana Sydney wouldn’t try to arrange for Cage to be shot in order to get the political upper hand. These people had done far worse to gain far less, and Dante and Cage were well aware of what lengths Diana was willing to go for getting Dante in office. You know that someone is a monster when the idea of them hiring someone to shoot someone just for a point advantage in a primary doesn’t seem out of character.

“Clarke,” Diana smiled as she approached her with a hug. “How is Cage doing?”

“He should be able to come home from the hospital later this week,” Clarke replied, pulling back from the hug.

“I really appreciate you coming here on his behalf,” she sighed, now standing beside Clarke as she looked out at the crowd. “How is Governor Wallace holding up?”

“I really wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly seen him,” Clarke replied, and Diana raised an eyebrow. “I think they’re making some tweaks to his platform or something. I’m not sure. It’s all over my head.” Clarke bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smirking as soon as she saw Diana’s face fall.

“Tweaks?” she asked.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I really wasn’t even supposed to hear it. I was just visiting Cage,” Clarke deflected, and Diana rested her hand on her arm.

“Hey, it’s alright. You know that I work very closely with this campaign. I was just curious as to what specific position they were discussing,” she said very calmly.

“I think it was gun control,” Clarke explained, catching a brief, murderous look in Diana Sydney’s eyes before she caught herself.

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, “that is quite unexpected.”

They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments, and Clarke caught Roan smirking at her from across the room. He knew what she just did. “If you will excuse me, I need to go take care of something. But I will find you in a little bit. I feel like you and I really don’t get enough time to talk at these things,” Diana grinned before nearly storming toward one of her associates.

After Diana was out of sight, Roan approached her. “So, you have them at each other’s throats now,” he whispered.

“Not quite, but we’re getting there,” she said. It was all she could really do for now. They couldn’t make any more moves against them until Raven and Roan figured out how to get through Nia’s security, and they weren’t going to focus on that until the Octavia situation was under control. Clarke felt so useless these days, just playing the part of Cage Wallace’s girlfriend and deepening the rift between Diana and Dante.

“It’s a good plan,” he reassured, as if reading her thoughts, and Clarke rolled her eyes. “If they are too busy focusing on each other, we can get away with more.” Clarke nodded along, noting his use of we instead of you. Then, she saw him check over both his shoulders before taking a step toward Clarke. “You and I need to talk.”

“We are talking,” she pointed out, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “What is it?”

“Do you think I haven’t noticed that half your team seems to be working on something else?” he whispered, and Clarke clenched her jaw. “I’ve been wondering why the rest of us are just on standby when this would be the perfect time to do something.”


“Are they looking for Echo?” he asked.

“Yes,” Clarke said, and it wasn’t technically a lie. Raven was keeping an eye out for Echo.

“Then, why did Murphy and Miller go radio silent before Echo was even a suspect?” he asked, catching her up in her lie. Clarke froze for a moment. She should have seen this coming. Roan wasn’t stupid. In fact, he was extremely observant. Very little escaped him, and she should have known that this wouldn’t escape him either.

She tugged him by the arm far from the rest of the party, trying to figure out what the hell to say to him. “Do you know who the shooter is?” Roan asked, point blank.

“Yes,” Clarke said, and he clenched his jaw.

“And you’re not going to tell me who it is,” he muttered.

“No, I’m not,” she replied, and he threw his head back with a groan.

“So, you’re throwing Echo under the bus to save one of your own?” he snapped, and Clarke pressed her lips together. She didn’t even know Octavia, let alone if she was one of theirs or not. She was Bellamy’s family, which meant that Clarke was going to have to protect her… but that didn’t mean she was happy about it. Clarke didn’t know Octavia well, just bits and pieces that she had gathered over the last few weeks. She knew she shared Bellamy’s short fuse, but she doesn’t seem to have ever been taught how to control it. She knew she was rash and angry… a combination that made her not only a danger to her enemies but also to those who could be her friends. In the end, Clarke feared the helping Octavia would be a mistake. A mistake she was going to make… but still a mistake.

“I’m not throwing Echo under the bus,” Clarke said calmly. “Listen, the shooter is not someone who would ever get caught. But I mean it when I say that Echo isn’t going to go down for this. Not even Cage thinks she did it.”

“I agreed to help you but even I have limits, Clarke,” he snapped.


“Let me be clear,” he growled, taking another step toward her. “I am not helping you until Echo is clear.”

“Fine,” Clarke huffed, starting to walk back toward the main area.

“I figured out how to clear the security,” he said quietly, and Clarke stilled her movements. “Figured it out a few days ago, actually. No one has been paying much attention to me with everything that’s been going on, so it was easy.”

“How do you get in?” Clarke asked, stepping toward him, and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Deal with Echo and I’ll tell you,” he replied, and Clarke swallowed.

“What do you want me to do? Frame someone else?” she snapped.

“Do I look like I care?” he huffed, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. She could feel herself starting to get angry… not necessarily with him but just at the situation. She wasn’t used to members of her own team holding intel hostage, nor was she used to being trapped in one place while she spends days panicking about if Octavia was going to come back or not. She hated being separated from Bellamy this frequently, only stealing embraces every once in a while at Marcus’ house. She hated the way that Cage was looking at her these days. She was angry that Echo might take the fall for something Bellamy’s sister did and that there was little she could do about it short of framing someone else for it. She was furious that she was this close to avenging her father only to be derailed like this.

“I want something else,” Clarke decided, and Roan rolled his eyes. “You said that Echo has Charles Pike?”

“What could you possibly want with Charles Pike?” he muttered. For a moment, Clarke forgot that Roan still didn’t know who she was. If he did, he wouldn’t have asked what she would want with the man whose testimony was the final nail in her father’s coffin.

“That’s personal,” she replied.



Clarke passed by one of Cage’s nurses who grinned at her. “Everything going okay?” she asked Bree, and she nodded along.

“He’s asleep,” she said, and Clarke let out a sigh. At least if Cage was asleep, she could go home earlier and didn’t have to deal with the guilt she always felt when he was affectionate with her. “You know, I think it’s really great that you come by this often. He is always talking about you.”

“That’s sweet,” Clarke said with a forced smile, hating that she still felt pangs of guilt regarding Cage. She shouldn’t feel guilty. She knew what kind of horrible things he had done. He deserved so much worse than what she was doing to him.

“He says you saved his life, you know?” Bree said as Clarke was about to walk in, and Clarke froze.


“Just keeps saying you were the last thing he saw and all he wanted to do was get back to you. All the nurses thought it was just the sweetest thing,” Bree explained, and Clarke felt like she was going to throw up. She waited until Bree went into the next room before taking off down the hallway, not even stepping into Cage’s room. She couldn’t look at him right now.

It was starting to get dark outside as Clarke made her way to her car. She waited until she was safely in her car before trying to get her breathing under control. She contemplated calling Raven, but Raven had told her to only call tonight in case of emergency. Bellamy would still be with Dante, which meant Clarke couldn’t call him. She couldn’t discuss this kind of thing with Marcus, so Clarke settled on calling Wells.

“Hey,” he answered, and Clarke rested back against the headrest.

“Cage thinks I saved his life,” Clarke stuttered out, clenching her eyes shut. “He is telling all the nurses that. I think this delusion is why he’s been all over me and telling me he loves me and I just…”

“I mean, he did almost die, Clarke. It scared the shit out of him. It’s not like his father is going to give him the kind of support and affection he needs after something like that. It makes sense that he’s turning to you,” Wells offered, and Clarke nodded along. She knew that, of course.

“But I was never a real girlfriend before, and I think on some level he knows that,” Clarke sighed. She wasn’t cut out to keep this lie up long term. The guilt was eating away at her. It was one thing before when Cage didn’t really give a shit about her. But now he adores her. Sure, it might be delusional adoration, but it was still him caring about her when she loathed him.

“This is just getting to you because our plan is all on hold. You have too much time to think about what you’re doing. I think maybe you should just go home and get some sleep,” he suggested, and Clarke winced at that. She hated being in that house. It was foreign and unfamiliar, belonging to Clarke Kane not Clarke Griffin.

“I guess,” she muttered.

“Or do whatever it takes to make you feel better, a little more like yourself,” he whispered, and then Clarke remembered that he was at a meeting tonight too.

“Fuck, I forgot you were busy. Go back, I’m fine,” Clarke promised.

“Check in with me later, okay?” he asked.

“Will do.”

Once she hung up, she sat in her car for a few minutes longer. She went through a list of things that could possibly make her feel better… before the one thing that would make her feel better finally crossed her mind. She bit down on her lip as she pulled her car into reverse.

It had been weeks since Clarke had last been to Bellamy’s apartment. She and Bellamy agreed it was too risky for her to keep going there or for him to come to her house. It was an agreement they both hated as well, especially since Clarke had hardly been around Bellamy since then.

She was careful about where she parked her car, and she used all the back entrances and stairwells. He wasn’t home yet, which was fine. Clarke just let herself into his apartment and let out a breath. The exhaustion from the day was starting to take over, so Clarke made her way into his room.

She changed out of her heels and dress, tugging one of Bellamy’s sweaters from the hanger. As soon as she caught a whiff of his detergent on the fabric, Clarke felt the tears start to form in her eyes. This is what was wrong with her. She missed Bellamy.

She plopped down onto his bed, crawling to his side of the bed that smelled just like him, and she let herself sob into the pillow. All of this would be easier if she could just run to Bellamy every time she needed someone.



“Princess?” she heard Bellamy whisper, and Clarke groggily popped her head up and rubbed her eyes. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but it makes sense that she did. She had been having a hard time sleeping since Cage was shot. The only night she was able to sleep through the night was the night she spent at Marcus’… and that was just because Bellamy was with her until she fell asleep.

“Hey,” she whispered, finally rolling over to see him sitting on the edge of the bed watching her.

“Want to tell me why I came home to find you in my bed? Not that I’m complaining or anything,” he teased with a tired grin on his face.

“I just missed you,” she sighed, and his eyes softened a bit. He scooted toward her, running his thumb across her cheek. She closed her eyes at the contact, loving the feeling of his warm hand against her skin. God, she missed him. She missed feeling him. She missed having quiet moments like this with him.

“I miss you too, but you know you can’t just come to my apartment like this. What if someone saw you?” he reminded. She opened her mouth to protest, but she knew he was right.

“I know,” she sighed. “I just… I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stay sane without…” She furrowed her eyebrows as she struggled to put what she needed into words. Maybe it was just that she needed one real moment to make all the lies a bit easier to swallow. Clarke didn’t feel like herself back at her house. She was guarded around Kane, never wanting to put doubts into his head about Clarke’s resolve. But with Bellamy, she was safe. He understood her in a way that he probably shouldn’t after being away from her for so long. “Can you just come here?” Clarke huffed, patting the bed beside her.

“I mean, you’re on my side of the bed,” he snorted, and Clarke rolled her eyes as she slid over.

“Just because it smells more like you,” she muttered before she caught his eyes again. He blinked a few times before moving to get changed out of his suit, and she let out a breath that he didn’t press her on that.

“How was Cage?” Bellamy asked as he tugged off his tie, and Clarke’s stomach dropped.

“He was asleep, so I didn’t stay,” Clarke said, leaving out what Bree revealed to her or how it freaked Clarke out. She knew Bellamy would listen… but not comfortably. She had caught the way his jaw would clench or how his eyes would wince when he listened to her discuss Cage with the group. He was doing his best to conceal his jealousy, likely because he knew as well as she did how ridiculous it would be for him to be jealous of Cage. But it still got to him, despite his best efforts. So, Clarke did what she could to avoid talking about Cage with Bellamy.

“Well, my meeting was interesting,” he smirked, and Clarke sat up as she watched him unbutton his shirt. “Nia has apparently witnessed some concerning behavior from Diana lately.”

“Like what?”

“She wouldn’t say, but whatever it is… it’s enough for her to believe Diana might have had something to do with Cage getting shot,” Bellamy explained, and Clarke bit down on her lip. “Honestly, the fact that it’s even a possibility in their minds is kind of alarming.”

“It’s not like Diana Sydney has never ordered someone’s murder to ensure an election of her politician,” Clarke muttered.

“Yeah, but now that the thought has been put into Nia and Dante’s head… it’s not going away. I think they’re going to try to break away from her,” Bellamy said, and Clarke let out a breath.

“I might have let Diana know that they were already going against her orders,” Clarke grinned, and Bellamy had this adorable smirk on his face as he looked over at her.

“And you act like you haven’t done anything,” he teased, and then Clarke remembered what happened after she talked with Diana.

“Bell,” Clarke said seriously as he climbed into bed beside her. “We have a Roan problem.”

“What did he do?” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke turned on her side to face him.

“He wants us to make it safe for Echo to come back,” Clarke said calmly, and she could see the guilt start to form on Bellamy’s face again. He knew this was eating away at him, knowing that someone else was going down for something his sister did. “You know, she’s like his family… or at least, family he chose. Not much different than me and Wells or you and Miller.”

“I know,” Bellamy sighed. Clarke slid up against him, resting her hand below his collarbone. He finally turned his head back to look at her, and Clarke bit her lip nervously. “Maybe we can fabricate an alibi for her,” he suggested with a skeptical look on his face… but that would work. It wouldn’t point fingers in Octavia’s direction and it wouldn’t frame someone else. “We just have to be careful because if we make one misstep—”

“I know,” she interrupted, and his hand rested over her hand and squeezed it. “We’re doing what we can to keep Octavia safe.”

His eyes fluttered shut as his jaw tensed, and Clarke laid her head down on his chest. “Can we talk about something else?” he whispered, and Clarke nodded against his skin. She wanted to know if Miller had any updates on Octavia, but judging by how he was acting, she would assume there were no updates.

She opened her mouth to change the subject, but she couldn’t think of what to talk about. So instead, she just closed her eyes and listened to his soft heartbeat.

“You already falling back asleep?” he asked after a few minutes.

“No, I’m wide awake,” she replied, tilting her head up. He was beaming down at her with the softest smile on his lips. “What?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, his grin only growing. “Just missed having you here like this.”

“I missed this too,” she murmured, leaning just a bit closer so that she could peck his lips. But he didn’t let her pull away. His hand cradled the back of her head, pulling her firmly against lips.

She happily hummed against his lips as he rolled them onto their sides, his other hand pulling Clarke tight against him by her waist. She let her fingers weave their way through his curls as his lips grew frantic against hers.

When his lips began traveling across her cheeks, Clarke felt a smile creep onto her lips. Right here with him… she was happy. Outside these walls, her life might be a lie and all their plans could go up in smoke… but right here and now, everything was okay.

She wanted to say something to him… to let him know just what he meant to her. But no words seemed right. His mere presence was enough to make her feel safe, and just a look from him reminded Clarke that she wasn’t alone… what words could possibly be good enough to tell him what that means to her?

“Bell,” she whispered, feeling his hot breath right below her ear. She tilted his head back to look at her, determined to say the one thing Bellamy deserved to hear from her. His eyes were soft and loving as he looked back at her, a look that she had never felt from anyone but him. It felt like this was six years ago and nothing had changed. He was looking at her like he looked at her then, and she felt just as happy to be with him as she did then. The difference was that six years ago, Bellamy knew without a doubt that Clarke loved him, and now… he might not be sure.

“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly.

“I just…” she stuttered, closing her eyes for a moment. She could do this. She could say it. It was a lie with Cage, but it was real with Bellamy… and he would understand that. “You know that I love you, right?”

She held her breath until that gorgeous smile stretched across his face. “Yeah, princess,” he grinned, and Clarke’s lips were on his again. She knocked him onto his back as she climbed over him, her lips bruising his as he pulled her tight against him. “But could you say it again for me?” he whispered against her lips, and Clarke let out a small giggle.

She pulled back a bit so she could look at him, savoring just how at peace Bellamy seemed to be as he looked up at her. It struck her that when this was all over… the two of them could have this all the time. It was a dangerous thought that Clarke hadn’t let creep into her mind out of the fear of Bellamy possibly leaving her behind again. But he was determined to stay, and she wanted to believe him. He wasn’t going to do what he did six years ago. Not again. Not after his heart was broken when he found out she was dead, not after seeing what him leaving did to her last time. He was here, and he was hers… which meant that one day, they could have this.

“I love you,” she said, watching the way his eyes lit up at those words.

“And I love you,” he whispered, leaning up to take her lips again. A moan escaped her as his hands slid down her back, palming her ass. Slowly, she started grinding against him, his hands guiding her as she did. She tried to remember the last time she could be with him like this… and all she could register is that it had been just too long.

Her tongue dove into his mouth, finding his quickly. A small hum escaped him as soon as her tongue met his.

She could feel his hands start to pull up the sweater she borrowed before sliding up her bare back. God, she loved having his hands on her, loved the possessive yet soft way he touched her.

“And to think I just thought you came here to take a nap,” Bellamy teased against her lips, and a giggle escaped her.

“That too,” she joked, and he rolled his eyes. “Really, I’m here for you.” His eyes grew dark for a moment, and Clarke held her breath. Then, he rolled them over so Clarke was on her back, his mouth travelling down her neck quickly. “What has gotten into you?” she giggled.

“I need you, Clarke,” he said seriously, and Clarke sucked in a breath.

“You have me,” she reminded as he pulled the sweater up over her breasts. She was about to say something else when he started dragging his lips across one of her breasts, pressing dirty, open-mouthed kisses across her skin. She pressed her thighs together, trying to get some friction after this wave of arousal just shot through her.

She watched breathlessly as he captured her nipple between his lips, his eyes flashing darkly up at her as he sucked. His hand was palming her other breast possessively, occasionally stopping to pinch her nipple as his tongue assaulted her other one. “Bell,” she whined.

His lips let go of her nipple with an obscene pop. He tilted his head up to look at her, as both his hands palmed her breasts. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. “Or how hard it is to keep my hands off you every time I see you?”

She sucked in a breath as his hands left her breasts, sitting up as he started to tug the rest of the sweater off her. Once he pulled it over her head, he threw it to the ground before seizing her lips. “I’m yours,” she promised against his lips. It didn’t matter what happened outside these walls. She was his and always would be. Ever since he first kissed her all those years ago, she had been his… and he had been hers.

Her words seemed to snap him back into focus. His hands fumbled their way into her panties, a smirk breaking out on his lips as soon as he could feel her arousal. “You should have told me that you got this wet for me. I wouldn’t have teased you so much, baby,” he growled as he crooked a finger into her.

“But I like how you tease me,” Clarke whispered breathlessly, her eyes falling shut as he rocked his finger in and out of her.

“Do you really want me to keep teasing you?” he asked right before he slid another finger inside her, and Clarke bit down on his bottom lip, earning a growl from him. When her eyes met his again, they were darker than before. “Or, do you want me to finally take care of you, pretty girl?” She nodded wordlessly, silently begging him even though she knew he was just as gone as she was.

He pulled his fingers out of her, frantically tugging her panties down her legs. Clarke propped herself up on her elbows as she watched him pull off his boxers. “Fuck,” she whispered as she watched his cock spring free of the fabric. Bellamy was too smug as he spread her legs apart… and she just wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off his face.

Her eyes fell shut as he slid the head of his cock against her slit. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, and Clarke bit her lip. “So pretty all spread out for me.”

“Bell,” she whimpered before finally feeling him start to press himself inside of her. Her lips parted as she threw her head back, savoring the way he stretched her out as he kept pressing deeper into her.

He was slow in his movements at first, giving her time to get used to him as he thrust in and out of her. “Feels so good, baby,” he panted, and Clarke’s eyes opened again to see the too gentle way he was looking at her.

“Come here,” she whined, holding her breath as he slowly leaned back over her. She crashed her lips onto his, tugging at his curls to keep him as close as possible. His hips started matching the pace of her lips, snapping into her just the way she needed him. “So good,” she panted against his lips before he took her bottom lip between his teeth.

She let out a small whimper as he continued to drive himself into her, filling her up so perfectly. Her hands fell down his back, scraping her nails against his skin with each thrust. He growled into her mouth as she did, his eyes turning almost predatory as she clung to him.

“I love you,” she whispered right as his lips traveled cheek to right below her ear.

“I love you too,” he whispered right into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “I’ve always loved you, Clarke Griffin. Never stopped for a moment.”

He pulled his head back to look at her, likely to judge her reaction to those words. “I know,” she whispered, and he stilled his movements. “I never stopped either,” she realized, and his lips slammed into hers desperately before she could say anything else.

He picked up the pace again, and Clarke started crying into his mouth. He felt too good and perfect, and she loved him just a little too much. “Come on, princess. Come for me,” he panted. Her lips started to quiver as he peppered her face with desperate kisses, and she was about two seconds away from coming undone for him. “I need my princess to come,” he begged, and his voice alone was enough to have her falling apart, clinging to his back as she pulsed around his cock.

He gripped her face between his hands as she whimpered and moaned into his mouth, tears escaping her eyes as he held her through her orgasm. She was panting beneath him as his cock thrust in and out of her. He finally removed his lips from hers, burying his face into her neck as he growled against her skin. Her fingers flew up to rest in his curls as she fell him come undone inside her. She massaged his scalp as feral grunts echoed through the room.

His breathing started to even out, and Clarke let her eyes fall shut. “You are everything to me, you know that?” Bellamy whispered into her neck, and she nodded along, finally wiping a few of her tears away.

Chapter Text

Bellamy ducked his head under the water, desperately trying to wake up. He thought after getting a full night’s sleep, he would be more alert. God knows he has no idea when he last slept so soundly through the night… maybe the last time he slept beside Clarke...

He woke up with her curled up against him, a welcome change from his lonely routine. But it didn’t take long for his brain to start panicking again. He wondered about what would happen if someone spotted Clarke leaving his apartment building, about what was going on in Cage Wallace’s head, about if Miller’s shoulder was better after his brief confrontation with Octavia before she took off running again, about if he was the only one onto Octavia or if someone else knew she was born.

The sound of the bathroom door opening jerked him out of his panicked thoughts. He froze as Clarke stepped into the shower behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. His eyes fluttered shut as she kissed his shoulder. “Morning,” he mumbled, feeling Clarke smile against his skin.

He looked over his shoulder, seeing her grinning up at him… and he couldn’t help but turn around to crash his lips into hers, earning a sweet giggle from him as he wrapped his arms around her. “Stop, I’m trying to kiss you,” he groaned, which only made it harder for her to stop laughing. He let out a mock huff before resigning himself to kissing her cheek, then below her ear, before making his way down her neck… and that’s when her giggling stopped, and he heard her breath catch.

“I actually came in here to shower,” Clarke sighed.

“Later,” he mumbled, letting his bottom lip graze against her skin.


When he looked up at her, he could see that she was arguing with herself. If he were more responsible, he’d let go of her right now. But he wanted to be selfish this morning. He didn’t know when he’d get another opportunity like this with Clarke again, especially with Cage coming out of the hospital.

She was biting her lower lip as he backed her up against the shower wall, a smirk forming on his face. “Do you really want me to stop, princess?” he whispered, loving the way her eyes widened back at him.

“No,” Clarke murmured, and he closed the distance between them. He took her lips as he pressed his entire body against hers. She moaned into his mouth at the contact, and he gripped her face between his hands as his tongue traced her bottom lip.

He still couldn’t get over her saying that she loved him last night, the soft look in her eyes, the way she seemed almost nervous to say it… it was like the first time all over again. But this time, they were both a bit more desperate, like two people starved for love after too many years without it. They weren’t starving anymore. They were together again, both alive and here. It was just that they weren’t used to that just yet, leading them to cling a bit too tightly to each other in their few stolen moments.

“Turn around for me,” he whispered before hearing her sharp intake of breath. She shot him a smirk as she slowly turned around, a smirk that he knew only grew as his eyes drifted down her body. “Fuck,” he muttered as his hand slid over her ass. Then, he let his hand slip between her legs, biting his bottom lip as he felt how wet she was. “Just came in here to shower, my ass,” he teased. He slid his fingers over her slit, and Clarke grinded into his hand, sticking her ass out even more.

“Bell,” she whined when he removed his fingers.

He leaned forward, resting his lips right against her ear as he whispered, “What do you need, pretty girl?”

“Don’t you dare tease me,” she warned, turning her head back to raise her eyebrow at him.

“Say it, princess,” he murmured before biting down on her lobe.

“Fuck me,” she whined. He let his hand slide back down to palm her ass again.

“Right now?” he teased before squeezing her ass.

“Yes,” she whined, and Bellamy removed his hand, so he could position his cock at her entrance. “Please, Bell, I need you.”

“I know,” he murmured as he slowly pressed himself inside of her. His eyes fluttered shut as she stretched around him. The only other thing he could focus on was the guttural moan escaping Clarke.

After a few thrusts, Bellamy started to get his rhythm and opened his eyes again, seeing Clarke’s palms braced against the wall. He kept one of his hands on her hip, while the other rested possessively on top of hers. “That’s it,” she whispered, and he kissed her shoulder, refraining from biting so that no one would see a mark that he’d leave on her… but God, he wanted to leave a mark on her.

He pressed a kiss to her skin instead, letting his lips drag along her shoulder. “You know how much I love you, right?” he murmured as he snapped his hips into her.  “So much,” he promised.

“I know,” she whispered, and Bellamy looked up to see her looking over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were soft, just as soft as they were last night when she said that she loved him. He leaned up to kiss her, and she strained her neck to meet his lips for the too brief kiss. “I love you too. So much,” she said with a soft smile, and Bellamy let out a breath. He wasn’t used to hearing that again. He doubted he ever would be.

He buried his face into her neck, listening to her ragged breath as he continued to thrust in and out of her. He slid his hand down her stomach as he held her in place, whispering, “I’ve got you.” His fingers found her clit, earning a small whimper from Clarke.


“I know,” he murmured into her neck, rubbing her clit. “Come for me, princess.” She was struggling to stay still, whimpering as she pressed her forehead against the shower wall.

Then, she reached back and gripped his curls, tugging him closer to her neck as he sucked at her jawline. “Please, fuck, just please,” she moaned breathlessly, and he could feel her start to clench around his cock.

“Come on, baby. You’re doing so good,” he murmured into her skin, overwhelmed by the feeling of Clarke tugging at his curls. Between that and the filthy sounds escaping her lips, Bellamy was barely hanging on. He needed her to come before he fell apart.

“Fuck,” she shouted out, her body shuddering in his arms. Her pulsating around his cock was the last straw before he fell apart, growling into her skin as he came undone for her.



“We should bring Raven in on this,” Wells suggested, earning a sigh from Kane.

“Murphy and Miller need her eyes tonight,” Bellamy reminded, not failing to notice the slight frustration in both Wells’ and Kane’s eyes. They wouldn’t be spread so thin right now if Bellamy had just done a better job keeping tabs on his sister over the years. And he would have been able to keep better tabs on her if he hadn’t screwed up his intervention with her after she shot her father. Kane wasn’t saying it, but the blame was still there. “And all we have to do is make a decision tonight. We can bring Raven in after.”

“I know that you feel guilty about Echo—” Marcus started.

“It’s more than just guilt. Roan holds the key to our next step and he’s holding it hostage until we clear Echo’s name,” Wells interrupted, and Bellamy shot him a grateful look.

“Let me be clear. We are running out of time. We were supposed to get Wallace before the primary,” Kane started again, and Bellamy let out a groan. “And we would have gotten him during the primary if someone hadn’t shot his son,” Kane had to remind Bellamy, and his jaw clenched at those words. “Every second we waste will make it that much harder for us.”

“So, we hurry and come up with an alibi so we can get back on track,” Bellamy huffed.

“It would be easier just to frame someone else. Fabricating an alibi is tough,” Marcus muttered.

“No,” he and Wells said in unison, and Kane threw his hands up. Before Kane was able to argue some more, Clarke swung the back door open, holding her heels in one hand.

“What’s her alibi going to be?” Clarke sighed, and Bellamy shot her a warning look. “Marcus, come on,” she groaned, and he snapped his head up.

“Clarke, you’ve studied Echo’s file. You know what kind of person you are trying to help, right? She’s a goddamn hitman, and you are willing to put everything at risk to help her,” Kane snapped, and Clarke raised an eyebrow at him.

“She helped me, remember?” she replied.

“That was one—”

“She and Roan have helped numerous girls get the fuck away from the Wallace’s, including Cage’s ex fiancée who they had to smuggle out of a hospital,” Clarke growled. “Need I remind you that we want them on our side, just in case.” Bellamy’s blood went cold at those words and how easily Clarke said them, reminding him far too much of how she told him that she wasn’t scared to die that first night he was in Mt. Weather. “We are helping Roan with Echo, no matter what you say,” she hissed.

“Clarke, I am telling you that we can’t—”

“You aren’t in charge here, Marcus,” she said calmly, and the entire room went silent. Bellamy’s eyes met Wells’ panicked gaze. “Even if helping Echo wasn’t the right thing to do, Roan is holding vital intel hostage until we do so. It’s the only choice.”

Bellamy expected Kane to snap at her, to be furious that Clarke was openly defying him like this after six years of relative obedience. But he just blinked before turning to look at Bellamy and Wells. “Well, it’s not like we can do anything until we find Octavia anyway,” Wells tried to relieve the tension, but Kane fixed his eyes back on Clarke.

“Framing someone is easy. Diana Sydney has enough people on her payroll that fit the description of the shooter,” Kane said calmly.

“No framing. We aren’t doing that,” Bellamy interrupted, and Kane’s jaw twitched.

“Tell Roan his alibi for Echo will take time,” Kane muttered before turning to leave.

Bellamy waited until Kane was out of earshot before stepping closer to Wells and Clarke. “We don’t have time,” Clarke whispered, and Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her. “Roan is getting impatient.”

“Echo is out of sight,” Wells groaned.

“For now,” Bellamy reminded. Raven had recently gotten a hit on Echo just outside the state’s border, meaning Echo was getting sloppy at covering up her tracks. “Just talk to Roan. He listens to you,” Bellamy said to Clarke, who worried her lip. “Out of all of us, he trusts you the most.”


Bellamy checked his phone, frustrated that Miller hadn’t called him with an update yet. Monty said they were about to close in on Octavia, which meant any second now he would get the call about her. He was so distracted by double checking his missed calls that he missed Dante Wallace walk up to him.

“Where did you put my speech?” he asked.

“It’s already up on the podium for you. And I went ahead and adjusted the microphone,” Bellamy said, snapping his head up. He had been on his feet all day arranging this welcome home party for Cage. It was bad enough that his workload had doubled since Clarke killed Emerson. But the guest list had doubled at the last minute, meaning Bellamy had been put through the closest thing to hell he had ever experienced.

“Are you okay?” Dante asked, patting Bellamy on the back.

“Of course, sir. Just tired,” he said, forcing a smile.

“Well, you take tomorrow morning off. I owe you after today,” he said with a chuckle as he walked off, and Bellamy let out a breath. The party was in full swing around him, and of course, Bellamy had a front row seat to Cage’s new affectionate behavior toward Clarke. Clarke was managing to keep a straight face through it all, but Bellamy felt like he was going to throw up every time Cage so much as grabbed Clarke’s hand.

Bellamy surveyed the rest of the party, observing Roan sitting off on his own again, a scowl on his face. With a sigh, Bellamy gave in to go sit beside him. “What’s going on?” Bellamy groaned, plopping down beside him.

“How much longer until Kane gets it done?” he muttered, not even looking at Bellamy.

“He has a few more bribes to take care of, and Raven is already altering records as we speak,” Bellamy reminded, though they both knew that could take a few more days.

“It would be quicker if you just revealed who shot Cage,” Roan said quietly, keeping his eyes fixed forward.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bellamy lied, and Roan rolled his eyes.

He expected Roan to push the issue like he had every time he discussed it with Clarke, but instead he said, “You do have someone whose job is to specifically to make sure that Clarke is safe, right?”

Bellamy’s eyes followed Roan’s, spotting the tight way that Cage was gripping on Clarke’s wrist. “Of course,” Bellamy winced. “How bad does it look compared to the other—”

“Worse,” Roan cut him off, shooting him a stern look. “He’s obsessed with her, and that’s not a good thing.”

“I know,” Bellamy whispered. He had read up on Roan’s personal files on Cage, cataloguing his obsessive behavior over the years. He knew enough to know that with how Cage was looking at Clarke now… he wouldn’t let her go easily. Bellamy found some comfort from the fact that Clarke could kill him if it came down to that and from the fact that Cage had to be on his best behavior with his father in this precarious position.

Before Bellamy could say anything, his phone started ringing. He jumped up, darting toward the back, briefly catching Clarke’s eye as he moved to answer Miller’s call. “Talk to me,” Bellamy whispered.

“We have her,” Miller said. “Everything is fine.”

“Say that to the huge bruise that’s forming on my face,” Murphy muttered.

“Shut him up,” Bellamy groaned. “What’s going on? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, but I think you need to take a crack at talking to her. She’s not believing a word I say,” Miller sighed, and Bellamy let out a breath. Alright, it’s not ideal… but his sister is alive and safe, and Bellamy was going to get to see her to try and talk some sense in her before sending her as far away from Mt. Weather as humanly possible. “Look, I’m going to text you an address to meet us at.”

“Okay, I’ll leave now. Wait for Clarke to call you to deliver the news. She’s surrounded by people and probably will be for at least another hour,” he sighed, glancing up to see Clarke eyeing him carefully. Bellamy shot her a small smile, signaling that everything was finally okay.

He hung up on Miller before stepping out the back. When he was sure there was no one around to see him, he started jogging up to his car. He hopped in quickly, feeling himself almost smile. He was going to see Octavia again. He had no delusions that it would be a pleasant meeting… but he really had no idea if he would see her again until this moment. So, he let himself be happy for a moment.

And only for a moment.

As soon as he shut the door behind him, heard a gun cock behind him. “Don’t move,” the voice warned, and Bellamy’s eyes darted up to the rearview mirror to see Echo holding a gun to the back of his head. “I need the name of the actual shooter.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bellamy said, offering his default answer. Then, he heard the passenger side door open before Roan slid in. “Roan, tell her to put the gun down.”

“Did you tell her who the shooter is?” Roan smirked, and Bellamy swallowed. Then, Roan grabbed the keys out of Bellamy’s hand. “Don’t worry,” Roan said, looking back at Echo. “I knew he wasn’t going to tell us. But I have a feeling that now his girlfriend might.” And that was the last thing Bellamy heard before Echo slammed his head into the window.

Chapter Text

“Easy,” Clarke warned as she helped him lie back down.

“Remind me to never get shot again,” Cage muttered, and an unexpected chuckle escaped Clarke.

“Will do,” she smirked, and he winced as he tried to get more comfortable on the bed. Clarke was itching to get out of there. Wells was waiting for her in his car. The drive to where the others were keeping Octavia wasn’t far, but Clarke knew Bellamy would need all the support he could get when it comes to dealing with Octavia. But Clarke couldn’t just rush out of here when she is supposed to be playing the part of the sweet, supportive girlfriend of Cage Wallace.

“It’s getting late, Clarke,” Dante interrupted, and Clarke was thankful for his cue to leave.

She leaned down to kiss Cage goodbye. “Love you,” he called out. She glanced back at him, seeing him reach for his painkillers again. Clarke could have sworn he had just taken those less than an hour ago but decided not to push it.

“Love you too,” Clarke replied, thankful that she finally stopped wincing at those words. She walked out of his bedroom, and Dante followed after her.

“I’m quite glad to see how close you two have become since the shooting,” Dante whispered as he fell in step with her on the stairs.

“Well, at the end of the day, our little problems didn’t matter. I think it clarified what was important to us both,” Clarke replied, and Dante nodded along.

“Good. I’m glad you are as serious about him as he appears to be with you,” he said, almost like it was an order. Clarke blinked a few times but kept her focus forward. “My son is in a very difficult place right now, and I know he has come to rely on you.”

“And he can rely on me,” Clarke said before he could add anything else that would make her feel guilty. “Thank you for walking me to the door.”

He didn’t offer much of a goodbye as she nearly darted out the door. Clarke was struggling to shake tonight out of her head, namely the way that Dante and Cage had been acting around her. It was claustrophobic. Cage always had a hand on her and Dante didn’t stop watching her and Cage.

She let out a sigh of relief once she got into Wells’ car. “What’s the deal with Octavia?” Clarke asked, leaning back against the headrest.

“Little Blake was taken against her will, meaning she is probably going to fight one of us the second she gets the chance. Probably Bellamy,” Wells said as he pulled the car into reverse. Clarke’s jaw clenched at the idea of Octavia blaming Bellamy for this. Bellamy still hadn’t told Clarke much about Octavia, but she could tell that he was a little too quick to excuse her behavior, likely due to his own guilt.

“Has Bellamy gotten there yet?” Clarke asked. She hated how long it took for her to get away from the Wallace’s. She would much rather be there with Bellamy when he sees his sister again.

“Not as of fifteen minutes ago. Look, why don’t you take a little nap while I get us there? When was the last time you slept?” Wells changed the subject, and Clarke let out a groan as she reached into the backseat to grab her change of clothes.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, though she could feel his eyes on her. He didn’t believe her, and he probably shouldn’t.



“Finally!” Murphy shouted as she and Wells entered, and Clarke scanned the warehouse. Miller was off in the corner with who Clarke could only assume was Octavia. She could see the resemblance to Bellamy, especially with the furious look in her eyes. Monty was on his computer, not even registering that Clarke and Wells were here now. But Bellamy was nowhere in sight.

“Where is Bellamy?” Clarke asked, raising an eyebrow at Murphy.

“I’m looking for him,” Monty shouted out, and Clarke exchanged a panicked look with Wells. Bellamy should have beaten them here by at least an hour, which meant something was wrong. “Listen, it’s not uncommon for Bellamy to miss check ins.”

“But his sister is here. He wouldn’t miss this,” Clarke reminded, before hearing a snort coming from Octavia’s direction.

“What are you even doing here?” Octavia muttered, and Clarke blinked a few times. It wasn’t like the two of them met before, nor did she imagine that Bellamy said anything about Clarke to Octavia in the past. “Does your boyfriend know you’re here?”

It took Clarke a minute to realize that she was referring to Cage Wallace. Of course, that’s how Octavia knew her. God only knows how long she was lining up that shot on Cage, who Clarke would have been just inches away from.

“Which one?” Murphy snorted, and Clarke whipped her head around to glare at him. “What? Are you and Bellamy not putting labels on it?”

“You’re screwing my brother too?” Octavia huffed.

“Yes, I’m screwing your brother. No, I’m not screwing Cage,” Clarke corrected, wincing at her own words.

“I’ve already explained this to you. Clarke is trying to get closer to the Wallace’s by using Cage,” Miller explained, but Octavia kept her eyes suspiciously trained on Clarke. Ignoring her, Clarke stole a glance back at Monty who had a nervous expression on his face as he typed away at his computer. Clarke pulled out her phone to call Bellamy, only to find that his phone had been disconnected.

“Yeah, yeah. She’s the girl whose dad died or whatever,” Octavia muttered.

“My father took the fall for something he didn’t do, and he was murdered in prison,” Clarke corrected, and Octavia just stared at her blankly.

“Why is that important to me?” she huffed, and Clarke’s jaw twitched.

“Because the man Dante turned to for making all of that happen was your father, and in exchange for this service, he asked that Dante take care of the Aurora problem before his wife found out about his affair,” Clarke hissed, and now she had Octavia’s complete and undivided attention. Her eyes went wide, her jaw just as tense as before. It was hard not to be angry with Octavia, not just because of the toll her anger had taken on Bellamy, but also because of all the ways that her lack of research and inability to listen had cost them all. Her father could have been someone that could have flipped on Dante. Shawn Gillmer was an important player, and she killed him too. Then, she took that shot on Cage and might as well have rigged the election for Dante herself. It could be all over right now if she had just listened to her brother once. Clarke could be done. Wells could go home. Marcus could go find her mother. But they are all still in this hell just because Octavia was angry and wanted to take her rage out in the way that would make her feel better.

“Marcus and Raven still haven’t heard anything,” she heard Monty whisper, and Clarke winced as she pulled out her phone.

“We’re trying to limit the calls we make out here, just in case,” Murphy explained.

“I’m calling Roan. He’s the last person I saw Bellamy with,” she muttered, pressing the phone to her ear.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to call you,” Roan said as soon as he answered the phone, and Clarke froze.  No. No, no. She trusted Roan… he couldn’t have anything to do with what was happening with Bellamy.

Her eyes must have screamed panic because everyone else stopped what they were doing, staring in her direction. “What are you talking about?” Clarke asked calmly, praying that somehow she was misunderstanding him.

“I just wanted to have a conversation with Bellamy,” he started, and Clarke put the phone on speaker. “I know that you all know who shot Cage Wallace, so I merely asked him for a name.” Roan took Bellamy. Roan has Bellamy. Clarke let Roan live and now Bellamy was in danger. Clarke was going to kill Roan.

“Roan,” Clarke warned.

“Clarke, I suggest you tell me who the shooter was,” he ordered, and Clarke locked eyes with Octavia. Her eyes were panicked, as if she believed Clarke would turn her over right now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Clarke said carefully, and Octavia let out a breath. “Where is Bellamy?”

“Now, you know that’s not how this is going to work. You’ll get Bellamy back when I get the name of the shooter,” he explained, and Clarke bit her lip. He must have abducted Bellamy once he left the party. But Roan was reasonable. He wouldn’t hurt Bellamy if he didn’t have to. He knows how to use leverage and knows that all his leverage goes out the door the second Bellamy is dead.

Clarke turned to look at Murphy, raising an eyebrow at him. He nodded, and Clarke let out a breath. “I need your location. I will come alone, but I will not tell you anything until I see Bellamy alive and well with my own eyes,” she said.

“Figured as much. Do hurry, though. Echo is getting impatient,” he replied, and Clarke’s lips twitched. Echo was there… and that changed things. Roan wouldn’t take the shot, but Echo would. Clarke glanced up at Murphy, and bit down on her lip. Then, Roan hung up.

“Murphy, you’re with me,” Clarke decided, and he didn’t even hesitate to go pack up the guns.

“Clarke,” Wells warned, but she held her hand up. She would have to go in alone, but she needed someone else there in case things went wrong. Murphy wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on Echo and Roan if it got to that.

“Take me with you,” Octavia said, and Clarke’s head snapped in her direction. “He’s my brother. I can be your backup.”

“Murphy is actually a good shot,” Clarke reminded. “More importantly, you’re too rash. I don’t trust you not to shoot up the place and end up getting your brother killed.”

“You don’t understand why—”

“I understand that your brother is currently being held at gun point because he’s protecting you,” Clarke hissed, and Octavia’s eyes went wide again. “You’re lucky he loves you. It was what kept you from being found by your father, and it’s what’s keeping you from having to run for your life.”

Clarke ignored whatever response she came up with, instead helping Murphy pack up the guns. “I’ll wait for your signal,” Murphy whispered, and Clarke nodded.



Clarke was shaky as she knocked on the door. It didn’t help that she had Monty in her ear, and he was freaking out. The only comfort she had was that Murphy was out of sight and ready to take fire as soon as things took a turn.

Echo opened the door, narrowing her eyes at Clarke immediately. “Seems I misread you,” she said, and Clarke pushed past her. “Tell me,” she continued as she followed Clarke down the dark hallway, “how does a schoolteacher get involved with a plan to take down the Wallace’s?”

“She is not a schoolteacher,” Roan called out just as Clarke turned the corner, spotting Bellamy tied to a chair, looking about how Octavia did when Clarke left. His eyes looked exhausted, and there was a massive bruise forming on his head. All things considered, he could look worse. She was just grateful to see him conscious. “Did you even get your teaching degree?” he asked with a smirk.

“Clarke,” Bellamy warned, looking thoroughly exhausted as he pleaded with her. She knew he was going to yell at her later for coming, for endangering herself by coming in here alone. But he should know by now that Clarke would go to hell and back for him.

“Let him go,” Clarke got right to the point, and Roan looked past her at Echo. Clarke turned around, raising an eyebrow at Echo. “I am working on getting your alibi in place. This was completely unnecessary.”

“Excuse me if I don’t trust you,” she replied, and Clarke turned back to look at Bellamy.

“Don’t,” he pleaded, and Clarke bit her lip. The only leverage Clarke had to get Bellamy back was his sister, but she couldn’t use it. She wouldn’t use it. It would destroy Bellamy if anything happened to Octavia. Besides, if Octavia was actually brought in for shooting Cage, Bellamy’s cover would soon be blown as well. Clarke couldn’t give Roan what he was asking for, even if Bellamy would be okay with it.

“I can’t give you the name,” Clarke said, and she immediately heard Echo cocking her gun. “Take that shot and I signal my friends to alert everyone to where you are. I doubt you’d last long in prison anyway, given how quickly they got rid of Shumway,” Clarke said, narrowing her eyes at Echo, who slowly lowered the gun. She turned back to face Roan, raising an eyebrow at him. “So, let’s negotiate.”

“You know what I want,” he reminded.

“And you know I can’t give that to you. You also knew that we have made steps toward clearing Echo’s name, yet you breached my trust by taking Bellamy,” she snapped.

“I have no way of knowing if you will actually help me or not. You two are just using me to get to my mother, so why would you honor your word to me?” he growled, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him.

“So, you need to know that I’m not going to screw you over,” Clarke said, and he clenched his jaw. Her stomach clenched at the realization of what she would have to do for him to trust her. “What if I gave you other information? Like, the kind that would get me killed if it got out?” she asked.

“Clarke,” Bellamy snapped, but Clarke kept her eyes on Roan. If this would get Bellamy out of here and make Roan play along again, then it was what she would have to do.

“What kind of information?” Roan asked skeptically.

“Who I really am. Dante would have me dead by morning if he found out. So, if Echo goes to prison for this, you can reveal who I am to them. You don’t have to trust me if you can kill me,” she explained.

“Clarke, stop,” Bellamy called out, but Clarke couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She could point out that it’s either Clarke puts herself in danger or his sister, but she didn’t want to put Bellamy in the position where he would have to choose.

“Echo leaves the room before I say,” Clarke said, and Roan nodded to Echo. She let her eyes drift back to Bellamy, who was shaking his head at her. “It’s okay,” Clarke reassured. She would have Raven watch Roan and Echo a bit closer, they would know if Roan was about to tip someone off around Clarke. They could kill him before he got the chance. This buys them time and it appeases Roan.

“Talk,” Roan ordered, leaning back against the dark wall.

“No,” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke narrowed her eyes at him.

“Untie him,” Clarke said, looking back up at Roan, who immediately rolled his eyes. “It’s not like he is going to attack you. And Echo would kill us before we could make a run for it. Just untie him.”

Bellamy kept his eyes trained on Clarke as Roan began to remove the ropes, and Clarke gave Bellamy a warning look. “So, start talking,” Roan muttered as he undid Bellamy’s ankle.

“Dante ordered the murder of my father,” Clarke started.

“You’re going to have to be more specific,” Roan snorted, and Clarke swallowed. He got up to start untying the other side, and Clarke accidentally made eye contact with Bellamy again.

“Stop,” he mouthed, and Clarke closed her eyes. It was the only choice. It was the only leverage she could offer Roan that wouldn’t result in Octavia being hunted down or Bellamy losing someone he loved.

“My father was Jake Griffin,” she whispered, and Roan’s head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. “He was the one who—”

“I know who Jake Griffin was,” Roan interrupted, blinking a few times. Bellamy leaned down to untie his other ankle, his hands looking a bit too shaky. “But you can’t… no, his wife and daughter were killed like five or six years ago.”

“What? You keep tabs on the people who your mother helped ruin the lives of?” Bellamy snorted.

“Yes,” Roan said seriously, not letting his eyes leave Clarke’s. “How could you have tricked everyone into thinking you were murdered?”

“I had help,” Clarke replied. “The same help that’s going to get Echo’s name cleared. And Monty is listening to this conversation, so he knows that if anything gets out about who I am, my people will come after you and anything left on this earth that you give a damn about, understood?”

“You threatening me, Clarke?” he asked, taking a step toward her, and Bellamy jumped up. Clarke held her hand out, narrowing her eyes up at Roan as she took a step forward.

“I’m sorry, was that not clear?” she replied, cocking her head to the side. “I let you live instead of killing you. Don’t forget that.”

“I haven’t,” he said seriously. “I let Bellamy live instead of killing him. Don’t you forget that.”

“Oh, trust me. I won’t,” she said before punching him right in the stomach.

“You literally just said that you wouldn’t attack him,” Bellamy reminded as Roan stumbled backwards.

“I said you wouldn’t attack him. Didn’t say anything about me,” she replied, shaking her hand. “Roan, are we good?”

“God, just go,” he huffed, wincing slightly. Echo stepped back into the room, narrowing her eyes as her eyes swept the room. “They’re fine,” Roan muttered, and Clarke tugged Bellamy by the hand as they made their way past her.

“You and I will be in touch,” Echo said to Clarke specifically, and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. But she didn’t stop walking. She wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Clarke threw her arms around Bellamy, burying her face into his chest. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he whispered.

“Stop,” she sighed, pulling her head back so she could look up at him. “You would have done the same for me,” she reminded him, and he bit his lip. “Look, we can argue about this later. We need to get back to your sister.”

His eyes widened, and Clarke realized that he didn’t have any information about what was going on with her. “Did you see her?” he asked, his voice breaking a bit.

“Yes,” Clarke replied, leaving out the fact that Octavia probably wants to murder Clarke for how she treated her back at the warehouse. “She’s okay. Upset, but okay.”

He let out a breath, and Clarke tugged him along so they could meet Murphy back at the car. “Wait,” Bellamy said, tugging her backwards.

“Bell, we don’t have a lot of—”

He interrupted her with a kiss, his lips heavy against hers as he cradled her body against his. His hands were a bit shaky against her waist, and Clarke tried to keep the image of Bellamy tied up out of her head. He would have been like that for hours, enduring God knows what. Roan could have killed him. Or Echo could have. She could have lost Bellamy.

It wasn’t until Bellamy pulled back that Clarke realized she had been crying. “Hey,” he whispered, brushing her tears aside with his thumb, “I’m here.”

“I know,” she whispered. She knew he was here. She could feel it. It was one of the few things she would depend on in this world. She was just terrified that it might have stopped being true if she had made one misstep tonight. Roan knew what he was doing when he took Bellamy. He knew exactly who to target to break Clarke.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, his lips grazing her forehead before he pressed a kiss to her skin.

Chapter Text

“Bell,” Clarke whispered, and he slowly blinked his eyes open. He jerked up as soon as he realized he was in the back of a car, but Clarke pushed her fingers through his hair.

“What’s going on?” he snapped.

“We’re okay,” she said, and Bellamy heard a car door open. He glanced up to see Murphy getting out of the driver’s seat and let out a breath. “You’re home.”

Slowly, he remembered that Clarke had gotten him out of there, maybe as long as an hour ago. At some point, he must have fallen asleep on Clarke. “Wait, are we at my apartment?” he realized, and Clarke pushed him to sit up.

“Yeah, Miller and Wells brought Octavia here,” she reminded, and now Bellamy was alert, opening the door and hopping out. He flexed his arms a bit, turning his wrists in circles to regain feeling again. He could still feel the ropes around his wrists.

Clarke grabbed his hand when she walked around to his car, and Bellamy turned to look at her. He still felt uneasy about what Clarke revealed to Roan, but as they argued in the car about it, he saw her point. Roan needed something tangible to hold onto so that he could trust them again… but it didn’t have to be Clarke in danger yet again. It was bad enough that she was as close with the Wallace’s as she was.

He shook it out of his head. That panic would have to wait until later. Bellamy’s little sister was up in his apartment, and he was about to come face to face with her for the first time in years.

When his door was in sight, Bellamy froze. “Bell?” Clarke asked, squeezing his hand. He turned to look at her, her eyes wide with concern. “It’s okay. I think she’s going to be happy to see you.”

He bit his lip, wishing that were true. But he had been down this road before. His sister was furious with him, had been for years now. She had good reason to be. Bellamy had kept her in the dark in an attempt to protect her, withholding the truth about their mother for her own safety. He thought he was doing the right thing, and knowing how Octavia reacted when she started to piece the truth together, he would argue that it was the right thing still.

When Bellamy didn’t answer, Clarke tugged him by the hand as she opened the door. Bellamy had barely stepped into the apartment before a blur of brunette came sprinting toward him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “You’re okay,” Octavia whispered, and Bellamy’s jaw went slack as he looked around the room. Miller and Wells were watching him, and even Monty put his laptop up to glance up at what was happening. Bellamy raised an eyebrow at Miller, wondering what the hell was going on.

“We didn’t know if Clarke was going to bring you back alive,” Miller said, his jaw tense as he spoke. Bellamy looked behind him to see the look that Clarke and Murphy exchanged, and his stomach dropped. Not a single one of them were sure they could have saved Bellamy, and that thought made him shudder.

“I’m fine,” he reassured, resting his head on top of Octavia’s. She was scared he was dead. This didn’t mean she forgave him. It just meant she didn’t want him to die. That wasn’t the same thing.



Bellamy ended up having to give the explanation of what happened after Clarke had to leave. She got an urgent phone call from Cage and was needed over at the Wallace’s immediately. Bellamy tried to keep his disappointment to himself, though Murphy shot him an annoyed look when he caught Bellamy watching Clarke walk out the door.

Bellamy listened as calmly as he could as Murphy and Miller filled him in on what has been going on with Octavia, biting his lip every time Octavia opened her mouth to argue. It was agreed that everyone would take turns keeping watch at Bellamy’s apartment to make sure Octavia didn’t make a run for it, which infuriated Octavia.

“I do not need to be babysat,” she spat, right as Murphy and Monty took off behind Wells.

“Yes, you do. At least until we know you aren’t going to run or do something else stupid,” Bellamy mumbled as he stood up. He nodded to Miller who had agreed to take the first Octavia shift so Bellamy could get a full night’s sleep.

Bellamy got just a few feet from his door before he heard Octavia storming after him. “We are not going back to you keeping me cooped up all day while you keep me in the dark,” she spat, and Bellamy whipped his head around.

“Why wouldn’t I leave you in the dark? It isn’t like you’ve given a shit about anything I’ve had to say in the past few years,” he snapped without even thinking about it twice. Her eyes narrowed up at him as her shoulders tensed.

“You lied to me, remember?” she growled.

“Look at everything you’ve done since you started figuring out the truth. Do you blame me?” he said calmly, though his jaw kept clenching. “How many people have you killed, O? My body count for you is at four, but I’m willing to bet it’s higher.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t killed someone before,” she muttered, crossing her arms.

“Those were in self-defense or to protect someone else. What you did were assassinations without all the facts,” he reminded, taking a step toward her.

“They deserved it and you know it,” she huffed, and he bit down on his lip. She was right, each of her victims deserved what came to them… but what she did was still wrong.

“Echo would have killed me tonight,” he said seriously. He saw the way she looked when she got her gun in place, just seconds before Clarke stopped her. She was absolutely going to put a bullet in his skull, and it would all be over for him. “I never would have been there if Cage Wallace hadn’t been shot.”

“Don’t put that on me,” she snapped, and his eyes widened.

“Don’t put that on you? You have never hesitated to put everything that has gone wrong with you on me,” he reminded, and she pressed her lips together. “The only reason I got involved with Kane and Clarke was because I wanted to take out these people so that no one who would be after you was left. I did this for you.”

“I never asked you to!” she yelled, and Bellamy saw Miller start to make his way down the hallway, staying at a cautious distance in case he needed to intervene. “I never asked you for any of this. I certainly never asked to be here right now. I had my own plan and was making progress.”

“Yeah? Your plan to kill everyone without bothering to figure out how they were all tied together? That plan nearly got me killed. It nearly got Clarke killed, too,” he snapped.

“Clarke is fine,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“You aren’t a good shot, O. You didn’t kill Cage Wallace. That bullet veered too far to the right, just inches away from Clarke. You could have killed her,” he shouted, and her face scrunched up defiantly.

“I didn’t know who she was,” she huffed.

“That shouldn’t matter,” Miller jumped in, and Octavia whipped her head around to glare at him. “You shouldn’t have put anyone at risk in your so called heroic assassination attempt. You could have killed an innocent, and you didn’t fucking care.”

“Miller, stay out of this,” Octavia hissed.

“Do you even care what would have happened to your brother if he lost Clarke again because of you?” Miller said, and Bellamy felt a shiver go up his spine at those words. They had been lingering around Bellamy’s head ever since he found out that Octavia was the shooter.

“What does he mean, ‘again’?” Octavia asked, and Bellamy turned toward his door.

“Go to bed, O,” he muttered before slamming the door shut behind him. Again. He almost lost Clarke again. The first time was because he left her behind to try and save his sister from herself, only to find out that Clarke died, and he wasn’t there to save her. And this time… Clarke could have been shot because Bellamy failed to help his sister all those different times, because he didn’t know how to raise her right, because he let her go and had no idea what she was up to.

And now… Clarke was risking her safety again. She told Roan who she really was so that they didn’t have to reveal Octavia. She was at risk because of Octavia… and because of Bellamy.

He slid down his door, feeling Octavia pounding on it as she called out his name. “Come on. Talk to me,” she shouted through the door, and Bellamy bit his lip. He couldn’t talk to her right now. Not tonight. Not after all of this. He couldn’t speak to her without screaming in anger and frustration.

He waited until he heard Miller say something quietly to her, followed by the sound of Octavia moving away from the door, before he broke into a quiet sob.



When Echo’s alibi made its way through the news, Bellamy had expected a few days before she showed up at work again. But instead, Bellamy found himself sitting beside the woman who pulled a gun on him multiple times as if nothing had happened.

Bellamy was pretending to pay attention to what Nia was saying, but he couldn’t help but notice that Ontari and Dante had been out of the room for a long time. Bellamy mumbled something about needing to take a call, which wasn’t a total lie. He did need to check in with the others, especially with Raven, Roan, and Clarke breaking into Nia’s files today.

He found Dante and Ontari talking out on the balcony, and Bellamy turned the corner to make his phone call. “Not a good time,” Raven snapped.

“Hello to you too. Just making sure everything is fine,” he huffed.

“No, nothing is fine,” she mumbled before he heard someone yank the phone from her.

“Everything is actually fine, we just hit a bump in the road,” Kane explained, and Bellamy let out a sigh of relief.

“How big of a bump?” Bellamy asked.

“Well, there is a timer, meaning Roan could only get a little bit out without getting caught,” he huffed, and Bellamy rolled his eyes. Roan had conveniently left that part out. “But I had them start with Diana.”

Bellamy blinked a few times in confusion. That was a bold move, one that they wouldn’t take normally. They were originally planning on starting off smaller and working their way up to Diana and Dante and Nia.

“In case we don’t get other chances to get back in, we need the important things first,” Kane explained, and Bellamy nodded along. Bellamy froze as he heard the back door opening with Ontari and Dante stepping back inside. They didn’t see him as they walked forward, and Bellamy let out a breath.

“The timing is right,” Ontari said to him, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows. “You sure Cage will be on board?”

“Cage isn’t who I’m worried about, but don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” Dante replied, and Bellamy blinked a few times in confusion. The two of them never did campaign planning without Bellamy or Nia around anymore… meaning something was up.



Murphy and Octavia were seated around the tv when Bellamy got home, watching the coverage of the police vehicles outside of Sydney’s office building, looking for evidence of her laundering money for one of the local drug cartels, something that Nia had been covering up for Diana Sydney for years. Raven had leaked it to the police and to the media that Sydney didn’t own just two hours ago, and it was already consuming every single news station.

“Did they find anything yet?” Bellamy asked as he dropped his bag.

“If they have, the news doesn’t know yet,” Murphy mumbled. Bellamy looked over at Octavia, whose gaze immediately dropped to her hands when he looked at her. The two of them had hardly spoken since that screaming match outside his bedroom door. It was clear that she didn’t know what to say to him, much like he didn’t know what to say to her.

“Alright, can you stay here for a bit longer? I need to go over to Kane’s,” Bellamy said as he made his way back toward his room to change. Wells had just informed him that Echo had finally delivered Charles Pike, which meant all of them likely had their hands full.

“You know I have always dreamed of being a babysitter,” Murphy mumbled before Bellamy shut his door and made quick work to tug off his suit jacket.

He had changed into jeans and was pulling on a clean shirt when he heard a knocking on the door. “I don’t have time for this, Murphy,” Bellamy huffed, and Octavia pushed the door open.

“Can I come with you?” she asked.

“No,” he answered immediately as he sat down to tug on his shoes.

“Can I ask why?”

“Because I can’t trust you,” he said seriously, looking up at her.

“If this is about Clarke—”

“It’s not about Clarke,” he snapped, and her jaw tensed. He knew that Miller had told Octavia the story, and God only knows what Murphy added in. Octavia probably knew all about the six years of self-loathing and mourning Clarke, about how many years of his life that he thought that he had lost the last people in his life who he loved and who loved him. “It’s not entirely about Clarke,” he corrected.

“I didn’t know,” she said, and he bit his lip.

“You would have if you had just listened to me,” he sighed.

“And I would have listened to you if you hadn’t lied to me,” she snapped back, and Bellamy threw himself back onto his bed.

“I was protecting you,” he groaned, throwing an arm over his head. “All I have ever done is protect you, even now. How do you not see that?”

“I never asked you to protect me,” she snapped, and he sat up, narrowing his eyes at her.

“So, when Echo held me at gun point asking who shot Cage Wallace and let her be framed for it, I should have just said it was my sister? I should have let her trade that information to the police?” he growled. “Should I have left those bodies where you left them, leaving a trail for anyone to come find you?”

“You chose to do that. Don’t get angry at me for something you chose to do,” she snapped. “It’s not my fault that Clarke faked her death six years ago, and it’s not my fault that you chose to chase after me instead of staying with her.”

Bellamy stood up, tugging his jacket on, before brushing past Octavia.

“You don’t have anything to say to that? Is it because you know that I’m right?” Octavia huffed, following after him as he made his way toward the door.

“Are you really going to keep being a dick to your brother?” Murphy grumbled from the couch, and Bellamy shot him a warning look. “What? I would kill to have had someone in my family give enough of a shit about me to drop everything to come save me before I crossed the line.”

“It’s not like Clarke actually died,” Octavia huffed, and Murphy clicked the television off.

“Bellamy spent six fucking years thinking she was dead and that it was his fault because he chose to take care of you instead of her,” Murphy said.

“Stop,” Bellamy warned.

“Allegedly, your brother used to be happy,” he continued, and Bellamy went to grab his keys. “They were on the verge of using your dad to tear down the Wallace’s once and for all. All of this would have been over six years ago. But instead, Bellamy had to leave behind Clarke, who he was planning on marrying after this whole mess was finished by the way, to desperately try to keep you from killing your father.”

Bellamy froze at those words. He had forgotten that he had confessed his plans to Murphy all those years ago when Murphy struggled to keep Bellamy afloat. It was something he hardly let himself think about, even back then. There were too many things that could have gotten wrong, and he didn’t want to make Clarke any promises that he couldn’t keep. But as soon as he found out she was dead, it was all he could think about. And as the months turned to years, he let himself imagine where he and Clarke might have been at that time if he hadn’t left or if Octavia hadn’t pulled the trigger. It was usually just images of them together and happy. He never let himself imagine kids for them… no, that was too hard to think about considering how much he knew that Clarke wanted kids of her own. It hurt too much to think about her as a mother knowing that she never would be.

Bellamy wasn’t sure how long Murphy kept talking, but it wasn’t until Octavia’s wide eyes met his that he realized he had been tuning him out. “That’s enough,” Bellamy decided, and Murphy let out a groan. He turned back to Octavia, who slammed her mouth shut as if she couldn’t think of what to say. “Can I trust you to stay in this apartment?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t have a choice, remember?” she mumbled.

“Murphy, you can go over to Kane’s,” Bellamy said, keeping his eyes fixed on Octavia as she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “I am leaving too. If you are not here when I get back, I will not look for you again.”

“What are you doing?” Murphy snapped, and Bellamy whipped his head around to glare at him. If Octavia ran again, it wasn’t like she was going to pull the same kinds of stunts she had been. It was clear by the panicked look in her eyes that she realized there were consequences for what she did, and even though he couldn’t trust his sister with many things, he did know that she loved him. That was clear as day when she ran to him as soon as he came home from being abducted by Echo and Roan.

“I hope you decide to stay,” Bellamy said before turning around. “Let’s go, Murphy,” he snapped as he made his way toward the door.



Kane’s house had a strangely quiet atmosphere when he walked inside. “What is going on?” Bellamy asked Roan, who pressed his lips together. “Where is Clarke?”

“Taking a breather upstairs,” Kane answered as he walked back into the room, before Roan even got the chance to open his mouth. Bellamy looked over at the screen, seeing that Roan and Raven were watching the coverage of the Diana Sydney investigation.

“Do I get a turn interrogating Pike?” Murphy asked behind him, dropping his bag to the ground.

“Who is watching Octavia?” Kane snapped.

“No one. If she runs, she runs,” Bellamy said, and Kane’s eyes softened for a moment.

“You’re gonna have to wait a while on Pike,” Raven shouted from the couch. “He’s still unconscious.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened as he looked to Kane for an explanation. “Clarke snapped,” he whispered, his eyes dropping to his feet. “I think it was just too personal for her.” Bellamy threw his keys on the table and began darting toward the stairs. He found her and Wells in the guest bedroom, and Wells looked grateful to see Bellamy.

Clarke was lying on top of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Wells shot him a warning look as he walked past him out into the hallway, and Bellamy took a deep breath. “Clarke,” he whispered, and she tilted her head up to look at him. She hadn’t been crying, at least as far as he could tell. “What happened?” he asked as he shut the door behind him.

“I tried to kill him,” Clarke said, blinked several times as she spoke. “We were talking about my father, his friend, and…” Bellamy bit his lip as he sat down on the mattress, and Clarke immediately turned so that she could lie her head down in his lap. He cautiously let his hand rest on top of her head, waiting to make sure she didn’t flinch before he ran his fingers through her hair.

“Does he know who you are?” he asked calmly, and she shook her head and closed her eyes.

“I’ve never snapped like that,” she whispered, her face contorting in pain as she spoke. “I’m not… I don’t do that kind of thing.”

Bellamy let out a sigh. No, Clarke didn’t do that kind of thing, not unless her life was in danger… which it wasn’t. She was all head, always calm and calculating. It’s the most reassuring thing about her. He could trust that she wouldn’t make a rash decision that would put her life in danger, usually.

“You aren’t the only person who has snapped,” Bellamy reassured.

“Octavia doesn’t count,” Clarke muttered.

“I wasn’t talking about Octavia,” he sighed, leaning his head back against the headboard. “Do you know what I was about to do before I found out you were still alive?” He thought back to the anniversary of her death as he looked over all his files and realized he had made no progress in avenging her. He had grown tired of trying to use his head like Clarke had taught him to, was exhausted with following the kinds of plans that Kane had taught him would ensure justice instead of revenge. Bellamy was angry and heartbroken and didn’t give a shit about justice anymore. He wanted revenge. He was convinced that Dante Wallace was the reason that his Clarke was dead, that Dante was why he and Clarke could never know what it was like to find happiness together… and Bellamy wanted him dead. Pure and simple.

“No,” she said, her eyes widening up at him.

“I asked Murphy to take Dante out. The shot was lined up perfectly and he was just waiting for my order,” Bellamy said before biting his lip.

“Bellamy,” Clarke said, sitting up and resting her hands up on his chest.

“I thought he took you from me, and I wanted him dead, so that’s the order I made,” he whispered, cringing at his own words. “So, trust me when I say that I understand.”

“Bellamy,” she said again, tilting his head down so he had to look at her. Her eyes were wide and teary as she gazed at him. He waited for her to say something, but no words came out of her mouth. Instead, she pressed a slow, chaste kiss to his lips.

“I love you. You know that, right?” he pleaded, and she nodded. He had spent too much time tonight thinking about the future that had been stolen away from him… kicking himself for not constantly reminding himself that it wasn’t actually stolen. Clarke was still right here in his arms.

“I love you too,” she said back, leaning her forehead against his before letting out a quiet sigh. He let his hands rub up and down her back, watching as her eyes fluttered shut.

As soon as Bellamy’s mouth opened to reply, Clarke’s phone started ringing. He looked over his shoulder to see Cage calling her. “Don’t answer it,” he groaned, but Clarke was already leaning across him to grab it.

“He’s been having these episodes,” she sighed as she grabbed the phone. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she waved him off as she answered the phone. “Hey.”

Bellamy threw his head back as Clarke got to her feet, pacing as she listened to whatever it was that Cage needed from her. Then, he noticed her freeze. He bit his lip to refrain from asking her what was going on. He couldn’t risk Cage hearing his voice.

“What happened?” she asked shakily, and Bellamy very quietly got to his feet. “Okay, I will be right over.”

When she hung up, she started sprinting out of the room. “Clarke,” he shouted as he jogged after her, but she was sprinting down the stairs.

“Roan, is your phone on?” Clarke snapped, and Bellamy breathlessly reached the living room just seconds after her.

“No, I can’t have my mother search for me and ping my phone at Marcus Kane’s house,” he huffed, and Clarke snatched the remote from his hand and started flipping through channels before stopping. Kane and Wells ran in from the kitchen, freezing at the sight on the screen.

It was coverage of a car wreck just outside of town on a particularly difficult road. There were accidents on it nearly weekly, usually at night like this one. But the cars never looked as utterly destroyed as this one and there were almost always survivors.

“That’s my mother’s car,” Roan realized, and Bellamy’s stomach dropped. He jumped to his feet, grabbing his things frantically.

“Roan,” Kane shouted, and Roan whipped his head around to glare at him. “That’s not an accident. Think about the timing.”

Bellamy looked over at Clarke who looked on the verge of tears, and he realized what this meant.

“I took precautions. Nothing I leaked had anything that would tie back to Nia,” Raven said quickly, yanking her laptop open.

“Diana already thought that Dante and Nia were turning on her. Combine that with the fact that Diana is being investigated for something that only Nia should have known about… and I bet she figured out where the information came from,” Kane explained.

Diana Sydney just had Nia Kingsley killed. None of them could prove it, but they knew.

Chapter Text

“Roan,” Clarke said, nearly jogging after him as he tried to duck into the back. “Hey,” she managed to say when he turned around, not sure of what else she could say to him.

“I’m busy,” he muttered, his eyes looking like he hadn’t slept in days… something Clarke was all too familiar with.

“I know,” she sighed, looking around the very crowded wake. Nia Kingsley was a very popular person in this city, meaning anyone who was anybody was here to pay their respects. “I just… I haven’t seen you in a few days. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay,” she explained, and with a groan, Roan put the pitcher down before turning to look at her.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, and Clarke bit her lip. “My mother was not a good person, Clarke,” he reminded.

“She was still your mother.”

“Not much of one,” he hissed, his jaw clenching as he spoke. “My entire life has been some form of her sending me as far away as possible. Go console Echo. Nia was more of a mother to her anyway.”

“But if you do want to talk about it, you can talk to me. I understand how hard—”

“Stop,” he interrupted. “If this is your guilt talking, then just shut up.” Clarke snapped her mouth shut, widening her eyes at him. He wasn’t wrong. Her guilt had been driving her insane for days, keeping her from sleeping. Nia wouldn’t be dead if Clarke hadn’t drug Roan into her scheming. It wasn’t like Nia was a saint, but she didn’t deserve to be killed like this by Diana Sydney. “She more than had this coming,” he said in a whisper. “Besides, now I have complete access to her files.”

Clarke opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Roan gestured for her to stay quiet. She cocked her head to the side before she felt a familiar hand reach around her waist. “How are you doing, Roan?” Cage asked, his hand pulling Clarke as close to him as possible. Roan kept his eyes trained on Cage, though she could see him cringe at the display of possessiveness.

“I’m doing as well as could be expected,” Roan said coldly.

“You know that if you need anything at all, you can always talk to me or my father. Anything you need, and it’s yours,” he reassured, but his smile was too forced. It wasn’t the charismatic smile that was plastered on his face when he was campaigning… no, it was the kind of smile he had on his face when he was just counting down the moments to pull a campaigner aside to scream at them.

“I know that. You two have always been there for us,” Roan said with a sharpness in his voice that made Clarke uneasy. Then, Clarke heard someone call out for Roan, and his head snapped up to locate the voice. “Excuse me,” he muttered as he brushed past them, and Clarke expected Cage to loosen his grip on her as soon as Roan was gone… but he didn’t.

No, he pulled her by the waist out of the main room without a word. “Hey, is everything okay?” Clarke asked, and he ignored the question. He dropped his hand from her waist before encircling her wrist, and Clarke fought every instinct she had to rip her hand from his grasp and move away from him… she needed to keep up appearances.

“What is going on with you and Roan?” he whispered as soon as they were in the empty hallway.

“What are you talking about? I was asking him how he was doing since his mother just died,” she snapped, probably a little too defensively. But it was the honest to God truth, for once. When she made eye contact with Cage, his eyes were too dark. This was not the version of Cage she had seen much. No, he had been too affectionate lately. So affectionate that Clarke had started to forget everything that Roan warned her about him.

“I’m not just talking about today,” he hissed. “I’m not stupid, Clarke.”

She blinked a few times, waiting for him to level his accusation before her. There was no way Cage could know about what she and Roan were actually doing. He wouldn’t confront her if that were the case. He would just kill her. And he didn’t drag her back here to kill her, not with this many witnesses in the house. “Cage,” she said calmly before he shoved her back against the wall.

“How long have you two been screwing?” he snapped, his hand now firm on her jaw as he made her look at him.

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he growled, and Clarke forced herself to keep her hands still… even as Cage’s hand traveled down to her throat. She could still take him out three different ways from this position if she had to… and he wasn’t going to kill her at this wake. She let him have the upper hand… not giving herself away if she didn’t have to.

“I was just asking about how he was holding up,” she said slowly, very aware of the slight pressure on her throat. She needed to snap Cage out of this episode… to appeal to the part of him that was infatuated with her. “I just… after what happened to my parents…” That gave him pause, his murderous gaze faltering as his hand loosened. Clarke sucked in a desperate breath.

His eyes were still narrowed on her, but he was listening. “I just know how hard this is,” she said carefully.

“That’s all that was?” he asked, and she nodded while swallowing.

“I promise. You know there is only one man that I love,” she said, feeling the tears prickle in her eyes. His tense look fell instantly at those words, his eyes immediately filling with remorse. His hand left her throat, instead cupping her face just seconds before he slammed his lips onto hers. She clenched her eyes shut as his lips assaulted hers, trying to keep her resolve together.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered between kisses, and Clarke nodded weakly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept repeating as he buried his face into her shoulder. She threw her head back, listening to his quiet sob. “I don’t know what just came over me.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed, forcing herself to take deep breaths. She was okay. He wasn’t going to hurt her. She just had to suffer through consoling him for a few more moments.

He started stuttering out more apologies and explanations to her, and Clarke kept her eyes closed as she tuned it all out. When he seemed to settle down, she gave him a reassuring kiss on his cheek. “Hey, I bet your father is looking for you,” she said calmly, and Cage blinked a few times, remembering that he had tasks for the day that he was missing at the moment. “I’ll be right behind you,” she promised, and he nodded as he broke away from her.

As soon as he was out of her line of sight, she took off down the hallway, searching for a bathroom. When she found it, she closed the door behind her, sinking down to the ground immediately as she broke into a quiet sob.

She threw her hands above her head, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating. What she really needed was a distraction. Then, her phone started buzzing. She was about to throw it across the bathroom, but then she saw that it was Raven. “This is really not a good time,” she answered.

“I know. Just breathe,” she said calmly. “I saw what happened through Nia’s security cameras,” she explained, and Clarke’s stomach dropped.

“You didn’t tell anyone—”

“I didn’t tell Bellamy,” she interrupted, and Clarke let out a sigh of relief.

“If he found out, he would kill Cage with his bare hands,” she whispered, clenching her eyes shut. He would, without hesitation. He already wanted to kill Cage just knowing what Cage had done to his previous girlfriends. God only knows how quickly Bellamy would be taken over by rage if he knew that Cage just had his hand around Clarke’s throat. “You can’t tell him.”

“I’m not going to, but stop worrying about that right now. Are you breathing?”

“Yes,” Clarke said, staring up at the ceiling. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence as Clarke focused on her breathing. When she stopped feeling like the she was going to pass out, she said, “I’m okay, I promise.”

“No, you’re not. You’re trapped with a man who just tried to strangle you. Don’t lie to me, Griffin.”

“Did you look into his prescriptions?” Clarke asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah, he’s gotten yet another pain killer prescription,” she sighed, and Clarke bit her lip. He had a full bottle just days ago and shouldn’t have gone through it that quickly. “But that’s not the most concerning thing I’ve found on him in the last few days.”

Clarke pushed herself up to her feet, looking at herself in the mirror. She could hardly tell that Cage had even touched her, thank God. “What did you find?” she asked.

“He bought a ring, Clarke,” she whispered, and Clarke dropped her phone.



Clarke kept her eyes fixed on Bellamy as Kane and Raven slowly broke the news to the group, bracing herself for his inevitable yelling.

Clarke should have seen this coming. Marcus literally warned her. I guarantee you’ll get a proposal from Cage within the month, he had said. It’s just how these things go.

But Clarke never thought she would still be here. Things just kept falling apart. People kept dying or getting shot, plans were derailed at every possible turn. And now… Cage Wallace wanted to marry her, and she would have no choice but to say yes.

“Absolutely not,” Bellamy shouted, narrowing his eyes at Kane. Clarke bit her lip as she looked around the room. Wells had a similar expression on his face, but Roan looked unphased.

“Bellamy, it’s not like—” Kane tried to argue.

“No, have you lost your fucking mind?” he growled, standing up. His entire body was tense as he glared back at Marcus.

“How exactly do you think it would go if Clarke said no when he asked?” Raven asked, cocking her head to the side, and Bellamy locked eyes with Clarke, his eyes softening as her eyes pleaded with him. Clarke literally couldn’t say no. Not after what she saw today. To Cage, Clarke was his and only his. If she left, if she said no, if she disappeared… he would hunt her down, just like he did with his past girlfriends. And it wasn’t like Dante was above cornering Clarke into saying yes either. He threatened Marcus once before to get Clarke to stick around, and she was sure he would do it again… especially since this whole thing screamed his idea. Campaign gold was how Marcus put it.

“We need to pull the plug on this whole thing right now,” Bellamy huffed, and Clarke pushed herself up to her feet, brushing past him on the way to the kitchen. It didn’t take long for him to follow after her. She took a deep breath before turning around to face him. “Clarke,” he pleaded, and her heart broke at the sight of his eyes. “We have to get you out of here.”

“No,” she said, and his jaw clicked. “We are too close. Roan has the rest of the files now.”

“Yeah, but we don’t know what to do with them. The last time we used them, Nia ended up being murdered,” he reminded, taking a step toward her. Clarke flinched involuntarily, her mind jerking her back to how Cage stalked toward her just hours ago.

She regretted her movements instantly as she watched a panicked recognition wash over Bellamy’s face. She immediately stepped toward him, grabbing his hand in hers to reassure him that she was fine. “Did something happen?” he asked slowly, his jaw tense.

“Of course not,” she lied, tucking her head into his chest. Hesitantly, his arms reached around her, pulling her against him.

“Clarke,” he whispered, and she bit her lip.

“Don’t,” she pleaded into his shirt. As much as she wanted to tell him what happened, she knew she couldn’t. He would try to kill Cage. If he succeeded, they were all fucked, and the mission was blown. If he failed…

Clarke shuddered at the thought of losing Bellamy. Her mind flashed to the video of Cage beating Shumway to death, haunted by the idea that it could be Bellamy. No, she couldn’t risk that happening. “Sweetheart,” he whispered as he cradled the back of her head.

“Nothing happened,” she promised. “I’m just sleep-deprived and today gave me too many flashbacks to when my dad died,” she said, and it wasn’t a complete lie. That whole funeral service was too eerily familiar, putting her on edge all afternoon.

If he didn’t believe her, he didn’t say anything. She was scared to look up at him, worried that her eyes would give her away. “You are not going to marry him,” he whispered, snapping Clarke back into focus.

“I can’t say no if he asks,” Clarke reminded him, pulling her head back finally to look up at him.

“That’s why we need to get you out of here. All I need is a day and we can disappear,” he promised, and God, she wanted to say yes. She was dying to get out of here, to be somewhere with Bellamy where things could be normal again, to wake up next to him every morning…

“I hate to interrupt,” Roan said, and Clarke let out a sigh of relief. Kane and Roan were standing in the doorway with strange expressions on their faces.

“This is not a good time,” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke leaned her head back against his chest, taking a deep breath.

“What if I can promise you that you won’t have to watch your girlfriend marry Cage Wallace?” Roan asked. Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, wondering what he could possibly be up to.

“Clarke, Bellamy, do you remember a friend of mine named Indra?” Kane asked, and Clarke’s stomach dropped.

“No,” she said quickly, breaking away from Bellamy. “You told me we couldn’t get the feds involved.”

“That was before we had Nia’s files,” Marcus argued.

“And you won’t be getting the feds involved. I will,” Roan said. “If you just say yes to his proposal, I’ll make sure this is over long before the actual wedding. Then, you two can resume your plan to run off. I just need you to buy me some time and keep the Wallace’s distracted.”

Clarke looked up at Bellamy, whose eyes were pleading with her. She shot him an apologetic look before she asked, “How much time do you need?”

Chapter Text

He stormed into his apartment in a huff, only pausing when he didn’t see Octavia on his couch. “O?” he called out, throwing his head back. This was the last thing he needed right now. He had figured when she agreed to stay that it was permanent. “You here?”

Before he worked himself into yet another panic attack, he found her note on the coffee table, revealing that she was taking Miller up on his offer to stay in his guest room because she was tired of Bellamy’s uncomfortable couch. He let out a sigh of relief as he fell back into a chair. At least he didn’t have to worry about Octavia too right now.

He stared up at his ceiling, trying to get his thoughts in order. Cage was going to propose to Clarke, and she was going to say yes. Just thinking about that made Bellamy want to hit something. He knew something else had happened today, and he had a hunch it had something to do with Cage based on the way that Clarke jumped. If he hurt her, Bellamy was going to kill him.

“Bell,” Clarke said, and Bellamy’s head snapped up to see her in his doorway.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” he reminded as she closed the door behind her.

“You stormed out of there so fast and you aren’t answering your phone, so you didn’t leave me much of a choice,” she replied. “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”

“What is there to talk about? Your mind is already made up,” he muttered as he pushed himself to his feet.

“It’s not like I can flat out tell him no and live to tell the tale,” she snapped, and he flinched at those words. They were a horrifying reminder of just how much Clarke’s life was on the line here, and he hated it. He hated that the plan involved her being this exposed to risk, that Bellamy couldn’t constantly be by her side to keep her safe.

“We can revisit my plan,” he reminded, and she rolled her eyes. “Why not? Let’s just go, you and me.”

“Do you really want to run from them for the rest of our lives?” she huffed as he crossed over toward her. “You better believe that they’ll look for me whether they know who I really am or not. Cage isn’t going to let me go any time soon. And Dante will be convinced that I know something that could hurt him.”

“I kept Octavia hidden for years, and she fought me at every turn. Trust me when I say that I can keep you safe,” he snapped, and her blue eyes narrowed up at him.

“They didn’t know Octavia existed,” she reminded, and he bit his lip. “Look, Roan and Marcus have a solid plan.”

“Do you really trust Roan?” he spat, and he instantly regretted it because a guilty look washed over Clarke’s face. It hadn’t been that long since Roan abducted Bellamy, and he knew that Clarke blamed herself for all of it even though it wasn’t her fault. “I just mean, he isn’t exactly consistent at delivering on his promises,” he corrected, but it didn’t put Clarke at ease again.

“He has literally all his mother’s documentation and is going to turn it over to Indra,” she argued. “There isn’t much for him to screw up.”

“You forget the fact that he knows all too well that he would be murdered by Wallace if he found out what he did, and it won’t be hard for him to figure out who is working with the feds now that Nia is dead,” he explained as calmly as he could, but the panic was rising in his voice. If Roan was really still on their side, he was going to get himself killed. And if he wasn’t, then he was going to get the rest of them killed.

“We don’t have to figure anything out tonight,” Clarke whispered, stepping forward and resting her hand on his chest. “The whole point of this plan is to buy us some time,” she explained too casually, and Bellamy’s stomach churned at the thought of how she would be buying them time. “He hasn’t even asked me the question yet.”

“He will,” Bellamy snapped, and Clarke’s pleading eyes shot up to him. He clenched his eyes shut as he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.

“This is no different then what I’ve been doing. It’s just another lie to keep—”

“I will not watch you marry him,” Bellamy growled. Clarke wouldn’t even be in this position if it weren’t for Bellamy. If he hadn’t left her behind, if he had gotten to Octavia in time, if he had done better with Octavia to begin with, if he had found Clarke again before she faked her death, if he hadn’t have outed Shumway when he first got back, if he didn’t take that position for Dante Wallace and could have been there the night Roan tried to abduct Clarke… each misstep he made got them here to this horrible place where Clarke had to accept a proposal from Cage Wallace, one of the scariest monsters Bellamy had ever encountered in his life.

“You won’t,” she promised sweetly, and Bellamy’s eyes fluttered open to gaze back at her. She couldn’t promise that. She knew better than he did that if this plan fell through that she would have to go through with the wedding, trapping her even further into the Wallace political family.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he pleaded.

“Bellamy,” she said more sternly, startling him backward a bit. “Let me be clear, I will kill Cage myself before I actually have to marry him if it comes to that.” Her eyes were a bit dark as she spoke, with an anger he really wasn’t used to seeing in this context.

“Clarke,” he whispered, and her eyes softened again at the sound of his voice. “What happened today?”

“I can’t—”

“Please,” he begged, cupping her cheek in his hand, thankful that she leaned into his touch. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his calloused hands, a feeling he yearned for too much when they were apart.

“If I tell you, you’re going to try to do something stupid,” she sighed, and his stomach dropped.

His eyes scanned over her, looking for any sign of injury. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice breaking as he spoke.

“Bell,” she said, and his eyes shot up to meet hers again. “I am not hurt,” she said calmly, but he noticed the way she dodged his question. Clarke was clever, knew how to avoid lying by being careful with her answers.

“He tried to hurt you,” Bellamy realized before letting go of Clarke to grab his keys. He was going to kill Cage Wallace. She grabbed his wrist before he made it too far, yanking him back toward her.

“Don’t,” she pleaded, and he threw his head back.

“I can’t just do nothing, Clarke,” he snapped.

“You’re not just doing nothing,” she said, her voice breaking a bit, and he could see the tears start to form in her eyes. “I need you here.” And with that, Bellamy didn’t hesitate to pull her into his chest, his own eyes starting to water as he heard Clarke break into a sob into his shirt.

His hands were shaking as he combed his fingers through her curls. He rested his head on top of hers, trying to get his own breathing under control. He fought to get the image of Cage hurting Clarke out of his head, but it wouldn’t leave him alone. “I’m here, I’m here,” he murmured to her, trying to at least make her feel better.

It was easy to forget that Clarke was just a person like the rest of them. She held herself so stoically. She saved herself and him more times than he could count. She was so strong that Bellamy forgot that she could be scared too, and it seemed like she felt just as scared as Bellamy did.

“I’m going to keep you safe. I promise,” he whispered as he cradled the back of her head.

She pulled back, revealing her tearstained face as she looked up at him with a confused look in her eyes. “How are you going to do that if you get yourself killed by going after Cage?” she asked, and Bellamy blinked a few times before her words settled into him. She wasn’t scared for her own safety… which he should have seen coming. Clarke could take Cage and is always armed.

No, Clarke was scared for Bellamy. She was scared he would get himself killed by letting his rage control him… just like how Bellamy almost died the first time Clarke saved him all those years ago.

That was the fear behind her eyes. He could see it. It was the same look she had in her eyes after she ripped him apart at the compound, lecturing him about keeping a level head before engaging in combat. What am I supposed to do if something happened to you, she shouted at him, and he promised her over and over that he wouldn’t put her through this again.

“I’m sorry,” he swore, desperate to make that painful look in Clarke’s eyes go away. Her brows knitted together as she leaned forward again, resting her head by his shoulder. “I just wouldn’t survive losing you again,” he admitted. He barely survived it the first time, and “survive” was a generous word for it.

“Neither would I,” she whispered, and his chest tightened. He rested his hand on her cheek, and she tilted her own head to look up at him. “I wouldn’t. You know that, right? That I need you?”

“You have me. I promise,” he pleaded, leaning down to leave a cautious kiss against her lips. When he pulled back, she tugged him toward her again, her hand resting on the back of his neck as she anchored him back toward her where he belonged.

She let out a happy little sigh into his mouth when his arms wrapped back around her. He wanted to pause time to just sit in this moment with her. He wanted a lifetime of these moments. He wanted the only conversations they had about a proposal to be about his to her. He wanted to know what Clarke was like when she was completely at ease for more than a few stolen moments at a time.

There was no end to the list of things he desperately wanted where Clarke was concerned. They were things he was scared to speak into existence.

“You’re going to be careful, right?” Bellamy asked as he broke away from her lips, and she blinked a few times in confusion. “With him, you’re going to be careful?”

“Of course,” she reassured, running her thumb over the back of his neck in a small circle. “Do you really want to spend what little time we have alone together to keep talking about this?” she asked with a teasing glint in her eye.

“No,” he smirked before pressing a kiss to her cheek. Before she could tease him any further, he picked her up, loving the way she giggled into his neck as he carried her back to his room.

As soon as he set her down on the bed, he was on her, pressing her back against the mattress as he peppered her face with kisses. Her hands were untucking his shirt before running hands under the shirt, lighting his skin on fire with just a simple touch. “Bell,” she whimpered.

After pressing a slow kiss just below her ear, he looked up at her. Her eyes were so soft as she looked at him, and he felt himself melting under her gaze. “I love you,” he said, the words slipping out of his mouth so easily.

“I love you too,” she said with a gentle smile, and he let his thumb trace over her lip. “More than anything.” His eyes fell shut at those words, but a smile stayed on his lips. He would never get used to hearing those words. They were so beautiful falling off her lips, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He crashed his lips back onto hers, involuntarily growling when her tongue found his. She became more desperate, her hands tugging at his curls as he devoured her mouth. It took all the strength in him to pull his lips from hers as he slid off her so that he could make fast work of tugging off her pants.

After she kicked off her shoes, she lifted her hips to help him get her pants off. She tried to pull him back toward her, but he settled happily between her thighs, resting his hand possessively over the damp spot in her panties. “Fuck,” she whimpered.

“Need something, princess?” he teased as he put a bit more pressure on her. Her lips were parted as she nodded frantically, lifting her hips when he started tugging her panties down.

His cock throbbed the second he heard her sharp intake of breath when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh. His parted lips trailed their way to where she really wanted them. He kept a firm hand on her hips to keep her from squirming beneath him. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promised, his eyes flickering up to meet hers.

“Please, Bell,” she whimpered right as he pressed a single finger inside her.

“I’m going to make you feel good. Don’t I always take care of you?” he murmured as he slowly thrust his finger in and out of her.

“Always,” she whimpered back, and he added in another finger.

“That’s it,” he murmured as she adjusted to him. His erection was straining against his pants at the feeling of how tight she was around his fingers.

He ran his tongue outside her folds, teasing her as his fingers plunged in and out of her. When her fingers wove their way through his hair, he ran his tongue along her slit.

He pressed a third finger inside her, earning a guttural moan that could have made Bellamy come right there and then. He buried his face into her thigh for a brief moment, trying to get himself under control. “Please,” she whimpered, and something snapped in him. He used his fingers to spread her apart before taking her clit between his lips. She was clawing at his scalp as he sucked, clenching around his fingers as he continued to thrust in and out of her. “Fuck, baby, please,” she moaned, her voice echoing beautifully in his ears.

He kept going, loving how she tasted, how she pulled his hair, how his name sounded as it rolled off her lips repeatedly… and he kept going as her arousal flooded onto his face as she moaned out in pleasure.

He stood up as she tried to even out her own breathing. He started pulling off his shirt, not taking his eyes off her as her chest heaved and her eyes fluttered shut. She had the softest smile on her lips, and this as another moment that he wanted to pause time for. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he threw his shirt to the ground.

A blush formed on her cheeks at his words, and somehow, she looked even more gorgeous. “Come here,” she whined as he undid his pants. “I need you.”

“I know, my beautiful girl,” he murmured as his pants fell to the ground. He stumbled out of them quickly before meeting her back on the bed, his lips demanding as he took her mouth. “You know I need you too,” he said, his voice low as his hands slipped below her shirt, raking it up.

She helped him pull the shirt off, and he began kissing her bare shoulder as she undid her bra. He took his time trailing his lips up her neck, letting his hand slid absently over her breast. She fell back onto her back, pulling him down with her as his lips and tongue explored her throat. “I could do this forever,” he murmured, closing his eyes as Clarke carded through his curls affectionately.

“Then, do it forever,” she giggled, and Bellamy tilted his head up to look at her. She was smiling warmly at him, her eyes as loving as they had always been toward him. “What?” she asked.

“Would you give me forever?” he asked. His heart pounded as he waited for her answer. She looked confused for a moment before she took in his serious expression.


“I love you, Clarke,” he said, adjusting himself so he could cup her cheek with his hand. Her hand came up and covered his hand, stroking it absently with her thumb. “I’ve never loved anything like I’ve loved you. You’re everything to me.” Her eyes lit up at his words, and Bellamy couldn’t help but give her a quick peck to her lips. “I want you. I’m never going to stop wanting you.”

She leaned up to kiss him, and his hand found its way into her hair. “I’m never going to stop wanting you either,” she promised.

“Marry me,” he said against her lips, and her eyes widened. “Not right now, just when all of this is over.”

She pulled back for a moment, and panic surged through Bellamy’s body. “You want to marry me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Desperately,” he confessed, but there was still this questioning look in her eyes. “I want to be yours. I want to be like this with you for the rest of my life. This is all I want. Is this what you want?” She closed her eyes for a moment, and Bellamy held his breath.

“Yes,” she finally whispered, and Bellamy blinked his eyes a few times. Her hand reached up and cupped his cheek, pulling him close to her lips again. “Yes,” she whispered again, this time against his lips before she kissed him, and Bellamy nearly cried out in relief. Yes. God, he loved that word.

Her kisses became more demanding as she pulled him as tight against her as possible, and Bellamy feared he was crushing her. But every time he tried to move, she whined and held him in place. “I need you,” she murmured.

“You have me,” he replied breathlessly.

“I need more,” she said, her eyes wide as she beamed up at him.

“Of course, you do, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning his head down so he could begin kissing her chest. He kissed the top of her breast, savoring her small gasp. “I love you so much, Clarke.”

“I love you,” she murmured back, and he looked up at the woman he loved. Her eyes were shining brightly at him, and he wanted to stay right here forever. One day, he would. He would love her like this every day, remind her how perfect and beautiful she is, hold her in his arms whenever he could… He would give her his life, all that was left of it was hers. He was hers. And he couldn’t believe that she was his.

He kicked off his boxers as quickly as he could before settling between her legs again. He pressed his cock through the lips of her soaking wet pussy, watching her lips part as he entered her.

His eyes locked with hers as he slowly thrust in and out of her, watching the way she bit down on her bottom lip. He couldn’t take it anymore, deciding to lean down and take her lips for himself. She whimpered into his mouth as she threw her arms around his neck. “That’s it, Bell,” she whispered against his lips as he thrust into her. “You take such good care of me. Feel so fucking good.”

“I’ll always take care of you, baby,” he whispered huskily, letting his lips travel toward her ear. “You take my cock so well, sweetheart. You feel so good around me,” he cooed into her ear, loving the way she started breathing more heavily for him.

“I love being yours,” she murmured as her nails scratched at his back.

“You love being mine?” he asked breathlessly, the possessive part of him loving that she was his. He was the only one who had Clarke like this. He was the one who was going to marry her one day. He was the one going to wake up beside. He would be the one to get to hold her at night and take care of her and keep her safe.

“Yes,” she said, tugging him back so she could kiss him again. “And I love that you’re mine,” she said with a gorgeous smile.

“All yours,” he promised, burying his face into her neck. He pressed open-mouthed kisses up and down her throat as he continued to thrust into her.

He could feel her start to clench around his cock and started peppering kisses all over her face as she moaned his name. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Clarke was his, that she was going to marry him, that the two of them were going to be together. His future was right here in his arms, and he loved her so desperately. He could see them off in some remote corner of the earth, making love every day, holding each other every night. They could have a family together. They could grow old together.

The image of their life was too beautiful that Bellamy found tears forming in his eyes as he fell apart inside Clarke. He buried his face into her neck again, murmuring declarations of love into her ear as he came undone.

Clarke was running her fingers through his hair as he spilled out inside her, whispering, “That’s it, baby. You made me feel so good, Bell,” as he came down.

When his breathing was under control, he finally looked up at Clarke to see similar tears forming in her eyes. “I love you,” he said for the thousandth time tonight as he leaned up for a kiss.

“And I love you,” she replied, kissing him back. Bellamy fell onto his back, and Clarke rested her head on top of his chest, right where she belonged.

Chapter Text

“Clarke,” Bellamy warned as Clarke closed her eyes, and she let out a whine. “You can’t fall asleep here.”

She buried her face into his neck and groaned loudly. She knew that. God, she knew that. Every second she stayed in bed with him was a second that she wasn’t supposed to be here with him. “I won’t fall asleep,” she murmured.

“Bullshit,” he chuckled, and Clarke let out a sigh. “Baby, you know I want you to stay, but you can’t.”

“I know,” she murmured before pressing a kiss to his neck.

“This is just for a while longer, remember?” he whispered, and Clarke tilted her head up to look at the soft smile on his face. She leaned up and pressed a quick peck to his lips.

“Yeah,” she agreed, running her thumb up his collarbone, “just for a while longer.” Roan would work with Indra. Things would come crumbling down for Sydney and the Wallace’s soon, and Clarke could disappear with Bellamy somewhere… have the life he promised her just hours ago.

A smile crept onto her face at the memory of his proposal. Forever was what he wanted… a word he had never dared to utter to her before tonight. Clarke never thought in a million years that Bellamy would propose to her, at least not while they were still in Mt. Weather. He was so careful before he left all those years ago, like he was terrified something horrible would happen if he dared to confess what he wanted.

“Do you really want to marry me?” she asked with a huge grin on her face.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking at her. “What do you think?” he asked, and Clarke shrugged innocently before lying her head back down on his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, placing a brief kiss on top of her hair. “You know I want to marry you.”

“I just like hearing you say it,” she giggled.

“I’m going to marry you, Clarke Griffin,” he said seriously, and Clarke glanced up at him to catch him gazing down at her, his eyes beaming with love. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing her bottom lip.

“Promise?” she asked, a sliver of doubt escaping her voice. She knew he wanted to. She knew she wanted to. This right here… this was all she needed. But she also knew that this wasn’t entirely up to them.

“Yes,” he promised, and Clarke closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his fingers stroking her cheeks. “Don’t fall asleep,” he reminded, and Clarke’s chest panged. Right, she couldn’t stay here. She had to go sleep in her own lonely bed tonight… and every night until the Wallace’s were dealt with once and for all.

She sat up, her entire body crying out at the missing contact as soon as she did. Bellamy kept his eyes on her as she made her way about his room, pulling on the various clothing items that he had torn off her just hours ago. She made the mistake of making eye contact with him after she pulled her shirt on, seeing the sad look in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he pushed himself out of bed, striding over to her.

“Don’t be. We just have to wait a bit longer,” he murmured, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear. “I’d wait a whole lifetime for you.”

Clarke stood on her toes to press a slow kiss to his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he sighed into her mouth. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against him. He was so warm, so perfect… and she knew it would hurt her to have to walk away from him tonight, even knowing that it was temporary.

“I love you,” she whispered when she finally forced herself to pull away.

“I love you too,” he replied, before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Now, go home before I drag you back into bed with me,” he teased.



Charmaine Diyoza was absolutely not on the guest list, and Clarke kind of admired the way that she did not give a fuck about barging into Dante’s event. Dante and Cage were clearly pissed, evident by the way that Dante dragged Cage away quickly.

With no one by her side for a moment, Clarke found herself looking for Roan, spotting him across the green in a strange looking conversation with Diana Sydney. Clarke was tempted to go over there and interject herself into the conversation to see what was going on with them… but then she remembered the jealous way that Cage got whenever Clarke was around Roan.

She shook the memory out of her head, instead focusing on how ridiculous it was that Cage thought that it was Roan she was screwing. “A strange vibe has taken over this fundraiser,” Marcus said into the earpiece, and Clarke spotted him out of the corner of her eye, standing with Bellamy. Clarke planted her feet firmly where she stood, resisting the urge to go over toward Bellamy.

“Because of Diyoza or because Sydney seems to be interrogating Roan?” Clarke whispered carefully, watching Diana pat Roan on the shoulder before taking off. She should be on the outs with everyone, but it seems that until the feds can convict her, she’s still in the inner circle. Clarke could only imagine just how much money she had to throw Wallace’s way to make that happen.

“She was asking me about what my mother was up to in her final days,” Roan murmured, crossing toward Clarke. Clarke’s eyes went wide, warning him not to approach her. He blinked a few times in confusion, before changing his path to go toward Bellamy and Marcus. Slowly, Marcus made his way toward Clarke, and she let out a sigh of relief. No one would think twice about Clarke being beside Marcus. “She doesn’t think that my mother had anything to do with the leak to the feds.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow at Marcus, who bit on his lip. “That means she’s trying to figure out who did,” Bellamy realized. Clarke was going to say something in response, but Cage came back, saying hello to Marcus as Bellamy continued, “You need to make sure you do nothing suspicious. She’ll be watching you like a hawk.”

“I cannot believe that Diyoza crashed your fundraiser,” Kane said casually to Cage, who just shrugged nonchalantly.

“It’s for a good cause, so I’m glad that both sides of the aisle can come together in a show of support,” he said, a little too rehearsed, as he slipped his hand into Clarke’s.

“I know, but she is getting a great deal of attention from the press,” Clarke pointed out, and a small smirk started to form on Cage’s face… which meant they had a plan to derail it.

“Let her enjoy the spotlight while it lasts,” he said, and Clarke caught Bellamy’s confused reaction from across the green out of the corner of her eye. “We will catch up with you later, Marcus,” Cage added in before tugging Clarke toward their table.

“I’m keeping eyes on Clarke,” Marcus said into his earpiece as soon as Cage and Clarke were out of earshot.

“No, I’ve got it handled—” Bellamy tried to argue.

“We’re not risking drawing anymore suspicion,” Marcus snapped. Clarke took in a deep breath as Cage pulled out her chair for her, realizing that Marcus must have seen the footage from Roan’s house at the wake. Clarke looked over her shoulder at him, seeing a slightly panicked look in his eyes… and that verified it. He knew exactly what Cage did to her, and he was not about to risk Bellamy or Roan getting too close to Clarke in case Cage got jealous again.

“Are you okay?” Cage asked, grabbing Clarke’s hand again. “You seem distracted.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, I guess,” she murmured, and he squeezed her hand. Luckily, Diana took a seat at the table and began talking to Cage, meaning he didn’t notice Clarke taking deep breaths right beside him as she tried to stomach having him grip onto her hand so tightly.

When Dante arrived at the table, he brought Roan with him. Clarke struggled to have no reaction to that, but she couldn’t help but wonder why Roan was being seated with them. Not even Ontari was at this table. Dante only ever kept his inner circle near him at these kinds of events, a clear statement of who he trusted and who he did not. But Diana Sydney and Roan Kingsley should not be at this table, not with how questionable both their loyalties are in Dante’s eyes. “Clarke, are you feeling alright?” Dante asked, sitting on the other side of her now. She felt just like she did at Shumway’s funeral… trapped between two monsters.

“Yes, of course,” Clarke recovered. Before he could ask any more questions, Cage leapt up to the microphone to kick off the speeches for the night. She tuned in and out of the speeches from various committee chairmen, only really snapping back into focus when one of them mentioned Cage getting shot in their argument for stricter gun laws.

She glanced over at Cage to see if he was okay, but he seemed more than alright. He didn’t even seem like he was listening. Then, Diana leaned forward and whispered something into his ear, and Clarke’s chest tightened. Something was off about tonight.

“Before we get to Governor Wallace’s remarks, his son wanted to speak to you all,” the man at the microphone announced, and before Clarke knew it, Cage was kissing her cheek before standing up to take the microphone. Clarke looked around the table to see if anyone was as surprised as she was that he was speaking, but the only person who looked as shocked as she did was Roan.

“It has been a while since I’ve gotten up in front of a crowd,” Cage started off, and Clarke automatically found herself searching around the area to locate any potential threat areas. The last time Cage was this publicly front and center, he was shot.

“The area is clear,” Bellamy whispered into the earpiece, and Clarke turned to see Bellamy nodding at her.

“As you all know, I myself have been a victim of gun violence and the police never found who did it. This was a big part of the reason that my father and I became a part of this organization,” Cage explained, and the entire room was hanging on his every word. “Every day, we hear stories about families devastated because of the havoc that gun violence can wreak on human lives. With each tragic story I hear, I am reminded how lucky I was. A big part of my recovery came from my support system… my father, who has always been by side, and my beautiful girlfriend, who was the reason I kept fighting.”

Clarke felt every set of eyes on the room fall to her, and a horrible, guilty feeling knotted its way through her stomach. But the eyes that weighed the heaviest on her were Cage’s. He had that look in his eye… that same one he had every time she came to visit him in the hospital, the one he had when he would beg Clarke not to leave… and it scared the hell out of her.

“I told my father one of those days in the hospital that life was too short to hold anything back. It is why he has been pushing through his campaign even though life has been hard for us as of late. Life is too short for my father to put his dream on hold,” Cage said before his eyes shifted back to Clarke. “And life is too short for me to do the same.”

No. No, not now. He couldn’t ask her right now in front of all these people. He couldn’t ask her with Bellamy having to watch.

But she should have known. This was political gold. Of course, it was going to be at a public event. She should have seen this coming the second Diyoza showed up and pulled attention from the Wallace’s. They would have to do something big to wipe her presence at the event off the coverage. And this was it. A grand romantic gesture. A happy ending to what appears to be an epic love story. Just one more lie for Clarke to stomach.

“Breathe,” she heard Bellamy whisper through the earpiece, and she fought every urge she had not to look back at him even though she was dying to. His eyes alone would be enough to calm her down.

“Clarke, I never thought that I would ever find someone like you,” Cage started, taking a step toward her.

“Breathe in,” Bellamy whispered through the earpiece again, and Clarke followed his direction.

“You have been the one thing keeping me going throughout everything that has happened, and I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you.”

“Breathe out,” Bellamy continued, and she exhaled. “In.”

“I love you, and I cannot imagine my future without you in it.”

“Out,” Bellamy said, and his voice was the only thing keeping her from losing it in front of all these people. “In,” he kept going, even as Cage kneeled down in front of her and took her hand, his hand too tight on hers. The collective gasp combined with the flashing cameras made Clarke feel dizzy. “Clarke, breathe,” Bellamy said again, and she took a slow breath in.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, and Clarke knew what she had to say. It was her only choice. Clarke regained her composure a bit, putting her hand over her mouth to pretend to be shocked while she bought herself some time to choke that word out.

“You have to say yes, Clarke,” Bellamy whispered into the earpiece, and Clarke felt the tears start to threaten in her eyes. It was yet another thing Clarke had to say to him that she only wanted to say to Bellamy… another promise, another declaration that seems hollow now. “It’s okay.”

“Yes,” she finally choked out, and the room erupted into applause as Cage lunged forward and kissed her, assaulting her lips as he gripped her face too tightly. She was dizzy as he finally pulled away from her, putting the ring on her finger. It was too heavy on her hand.

Everything else went by in a blur. People kept stopping by their table to congratulate them, and Clarke let Cage do all the talking as Bellamy reminded her to keep breathing in her earpiece. When Clarke was finally calm enough to look around the room without feeling dizzy again, she spotted him sitting beside Marcus, his hand shaky as he downed his drink. His eyes were sad… too sad. All Clarke wanted to do was run over to him and reassure him, but she couldn’t. She was trapped between the Wallace’s with too much spotlight to be able to do anything without being noticed.



“I really should be getting home. Where did Cage go?” Clarke asked, tapping her foot a bit impatiently in the foyer. She wanted to go see Bellamy to see if he was okay after having to watch that proposal.

“He and the Governor are talking,” Ontari muttered, not even looking up from her phone. “Just go wait in the living room.”

Clarke let out a huff as she followed directions. Roan and Diana were sitting in there as well, and Clarke raised an eyebrow. “You’re a member of the family now, Clarke. You’ll have to get used to these little meetings,” Diana said, patting the seat beside her. “They’re just strategy sessions for the campaign.”

“Sometimes,” Roan mumbled, and Clarke noticed Diana’s face fall. “What? I’m not wrong.”

Clarke shot Roan a warning look. He didn’t have his mother around anymore to protect him when he mouthed off. The only person watching his back right now was Clarke, and there was only so much Clarke could do for him.

Before Diana could say anything in response, the two Wallace’s came in with unreadable expressions. Clarke half expected Cage to approach her, but he stayed firmly by his father’s side. “It seems that your hunch was right,” Dante said, looking right at Diana.

“What’s going on?” Clarke asked, looking at Cage.

“As you know, Diana has been under investigation because something was leaked to the feds,” Cage explained, and Clarke bit the inside of her mouth to keep her expression level. “So far, everything they’ve found is circumstantial, so she should be in the clear.”

“But that isn’t my main concern. I have been trying to locate the leak,” Diana interjected, and Clarke specifically avoided making eye contact with Roan.

“And have you?” Roan asked casually.

“Yes, we did,” Cage said, and before Clarke could even blink, Cage was pulling his gun out of his holster and firing two quick shots into Roan’s chest.

The shots were ringing in her ears as she watched Roan slide backwards against the back of the couch. Clarke lunged forward out of habit, but Diana Sydney pulled her back. “It’s okay,” she whispered to Clarke, and she shuddered in Diana’s grasp.

“I said wait until he was outside,” Dante growled.

“I’ll do the cleanup myself,” Cage spat back, but Clarke kept her eyes on Roan. He was dying. He’d be dead before any help got here, not that anyone in this room would dare call for help.

Clarke clenched her eyes shut, trying to get her thoughts in order… but they were all screaming at her that this was her fault. She brought him into this. She was the reason he had been working with the feds. She was the reason he was dead right now.

“No, I’ve got this one. You take care of your fiancée. Poor girl is in shock,” she heard Dante mutter, and within a second, Clarke felt Cage take her hands.

“Clarke,” Cage whispered, and she forced herself to look at his cold, dead eyes. Diana and Dante were already up and moving, getting ready to deal with Roan’s body. It was all too familiar to Clarke, a scene she had witnessed dozens of times. But this time she had a front row seat. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Clarke opened her mouth, wanting to scream at him… to demand to know why he did this, why he did it in front of her. But the horrifying answer was that he knew that he could. It wasn’t like Clarke could leave, especially not now with his ring on her finger.

“Roan betrayed us, and he left me with no choice,” Cage said in an almost singsong voice, as if he weren’t talking about calculated murder. “This is what we do to people who betray us. Do you understand?”

Now, Clarke understood why she had to be here for this meeting. It was a message to her, a warning of sorts. A glimpse into what fate could befall her or someone she loved if she ever defied Cage. He was threatening her, warning her…

She nodded slowly, and Cage finally set his gun down on the coffee table behind him. “How about I drive you home?” he asked, now standing up and offering her his hand.

Shakily, she took it, and he helped pull her to her feet. She went to grab her bag, diverting her eyes away from Roan, her friend despite everything… and Cage halted her movements by pulling her into him, pressing a hard kiss against her lips. “I know you’re a little scared right now,” he said, his eyes wide and dark. “But I am always going to be keeping my eyes on you. You have nothing to worry about.”

Chapter Text

Octavia was on his couch when he got home, mumbling a quiet hello as she kept her eyes on the screen. She was watching the coverage of the proposal on the news with a scowl on her face, and Bellamy turned into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. “Pour me one too,” Octavia called out, and he grabbed another glass before walking back into the living room. “How are you holding up?” she asked as he poured her a glass.

“Fine,” he said, and she narrowed her eyes at him as she took the glass from him.

“So, I guess we aren’t going to talk about it,” she huffed, and he plopped down beside her. His eyes caught the screen again, spotting a photo of Cage kissing Clarke, and he clenched his fist. “Tell me how this is better than him being dead.”

“Because it doesn’t involve murder,” he hissed, and he could just feel her rolling her eyes right next to him. “Besides, killing Cage does nothing but alert the rest of them that we are onto them.”

“You could literally just kill them all and be done. No more watching your girlfriend put herself in danger, no more lurking around Mt. Weather and plotting… you could be done,” she argued.

“That would be vengeance, not justice,” he corrected, cocking his head in her direction. She fixed her eyes back on the screen, shaking her head slightly. He wasn’t going to make her understand, and he needed to find a way to accept that. He should just count himself lucky that she hasn’t taken matters into her own hands. He was about to say something else, when his burner phone started ringing. He put his glass back down on the table and sprinted toward where he left his phone and keys, picking it up in a slight panic. “Yes?” he answered.

“Something happened,” Kane said, and Bellamy’s stomach dropped. “I don’t know what just yet. I got a coded text from Clarke,” he explained, and Bellamy’s entire body stiffened. “You need to get Octavia out of town.”

Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows, looking over at Octavia, who was staring at him with wide, panicked eyes. “Where is Clarke?”

“Raven pinged her cellphone at the Wallace house. But the Wallace’s have deactivated all their security cameras for some reason, so whatever is happening over there is bad,” he huffed out. “Look, Clarke is okay and she’s safe. We’ve told Echo to get out of town. Wells and I are taking care of Charles Pike right now.”

“We’ll reconvene at your house?” Bellamy asked.

“In a few hours, yes,” he corrected, and now Bellamy had a better idea of what he meant by taking care of Charles Pike. When he hung up, Bellamy sent Miller a quick text telling him to come over before sprinting toward his room to pull out his emergency duffel.

“What is going on?” Octavia snapped, jogging after him.

“You’re about to disappear,” he muttered, unlocking his safe.

“No,” she shouted, and he dropped the passport he had Monty make for Octavia into the bag.

“O,” he snapped, turning to look at her. “Something happened, and we are sending all our at-risk people away. You, Echo, and maybe Pike... all leaving town.”

“No one even knows I’m here,” she huffed.

“We don’t know that. Look, the Wallace’s cameras are all off. None of us know what’s happening in there except Clarke, and she can’t safely communicate with us,” he tried to explain as calmly as he could, but his voice kept breaking as he spoke. Clarke was in enemy territory again, using a protocol that they had never had to use in all these years. Whatever was happening… it was bad. Which meant all bets were off.

“I am not going to spend my life on the run, Bell.”

He clenched his eyes shut, trying to figure out how to explain this to her in a way that she could understand.  But he had never successfully explained why she needed to stay on the move before. She fought him at every turn. “This is not like before,” he whispered, and Octavia cocked her head to the side. “Before, it was me being paranoid about your safety because that was how Mom raised me to be. Every threat, small or huge… scared the hell out of me and I made us take off every time.”

She looked like she wanted to interrupt, but she snapped her mouth shut. “This isn’t my paranoia this time,” Bellamy continued. “Clarke made the call, and she doesn’t get easily frightened. Whatever happened in that house, whatever she learned… it was horrible enough for Clarke to risk Cage catching her sending a coded message to Kane telling him to get everyone out.”

Before Octavia could form an argument, Miller jogged in. “Ready?” he asked, and Octavia’s eyes widened.

“Miller is taking you. I’m staying behind,” Bellamy said, and Octavia’s eyes fell.

“We’re going to meet up with a friend of mine,” Miller explained, and Bellamy resumed packing the duffel, ignoring the tight knot forming in his chest. “His name is Lincoln and he’ll keep you hidden until I give the signal that everything is okay again.”

“Bell,” Octavia said sternly.

“I need you to do this,” Bellamy pleaded, forcing himself to look at her. “I need to know that at least you are safe.”

“We need to go,” Miller said. “Monty has control of all the traffic cameras in the area for the moment, which means our window is right now.”

Octavia’s eyes were still defiant as Bellamy tossed her the duffel. “I can’t lose anyone else. Please,” he pleaded. She dropped the duffel to the ground, and his stomach dropped. Then, she came hurling toward him, throwing her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder.

“I love you, big brother,” she whispered before pulling away.

“I love you too, O,” he said back as she picked up the duffel.

“We have to go,” Miller repeated, and Bellamy clenched his eyes shut, not able to watch as Octavia walked away.



Bellamy was one of the first one’s over at Kane’s house. “What’s happening?” he asked.

“Well, Clarke is now at her house, but so is Cage, so we can’t make contact with her,” Raven mumbled, typing away at her laptop. “And Roan’s phone is still disconnected.”

“Cage is with her at her house?” Bellamy asked, narrowing his eyes at Raven. Cage never went to Clarke’s house, not unless he was dropping her off.

“Don’t panic about that. Clarke didn’t use any of the codes that indicated that she was in danger,” Raven explained, but it did little to ease Bellamy. Clarke would be very careful about how she used those codes, especially since it was the quickest way to guarantee Bellamy would come running after her.

He nearly jumped when he heard the backdoor open, letting out a sigh of relief when Wells and Kane came inside. “Is Octavia gone?” Kane asked, and Bellamy nodded. “What about Echo?” he asked Raven.

“Gone,” she muttered, keeping her eyes fixed on her screen. “Still no word from Roan or Clarke, but we know that Clarke is at home and Cage is with her.”

“What do we do now?” Bellamy asked.

“We wait,” Wells sighed. God, Bellamy hated waiting.



He had started to doze off on the couch, only waking up when Murphy’s snoring jerked him awake. He looked around the living room, seeing Raven asleep on her keyboard while Monty sleepily plugged on without her on his laptop.

Bellamy pushed Murphy off him and made his way into the kitchen, where Kane was drinking alone. “Any word from anyone?” Bellamy pleaded. The sky outside was starting to get light again, meaning the sun would soon rise.

“No,” he whispered, looking down at his glass. After a beat, he reached into his jacket pocket, and tossed two passports onto the table.

Hesitantly, Bellamy picked them up, flipping through until he found his photo and then Clarke’s. “Walters?” he asked, looking at his last name before seeing that Clarke’s new identity had the same one.

“Abby’s maiden name. She asked me to use it if Clarke needed to disappear again so that she could find her daughter,” he explained, and Bellamy’s lips twitched.

“Do she and I need to disappear?” Bellamy asked, and Kane bit down on his lip.

“I won’t know until Clarke tells us what happened tonight. But I figured I might as well get these to you in case you need to make the call quickly.” Bellamy opened his mouth to ask him what he meant by that, but Kane raised his hand to cut him off before he even spoke. “I trust you to make this call, alright?”

“Guys!” Monty shouted, and Bellamy darted back into the living room, looking up at the television screen that Monty was pointing at.

The caption on the news read: Roan Kingsley found dead after shooting in Mt. Weather bar. “No,” Bellamy whispered.

“Call Indra right now,” Raven snapped, and Kane started dialing immediately. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way that the Wallace’s should know about Roan working with the feds… but if they knew that, there was no telling what else they knew.

“Disconnected,” Kane growled, throwing his phone onto the couch in frustration.

“Fuck. Someone told them about Indra and Roan working together,” Monty said, and Bellamy pushed his hand through his curls, nearly tugging at his hair in frustration. They had an inside man. Of course, they did. They had someone that let them know the second Roan started working with Indra against them.

The front door swung open, and Bellamy ran to Clarke, pulling her tight against him. “It’s already on the news,” she whispered, and Bellamy pulled back to nod. He searched her face, looking for any sign of injury, but she looked fine… just exhausted and like she had been crying.

Wells pulled Bellamy away from her before pulling Clarke into a hug, and Bellamy felt like he could finally breathe again. She was okay. She was alive. She was here.

“What happened?” Kane asked during his turn to hug Clarke.

“Cage shot him twice in the chest,” Clarke said shakily.

“In front of you?” Monty asked, and she nodded.

“Diana and Dante were there too. They were talking about the leak, and Roan asked if they had located the leak, and Cage shot him,” she explained, shaking her head as she spoke. “Then, Cage took me home and wouldn’t leave me alone because he thought I was in shock.”

“You are in shock,” Wells corrected, and Clarke waved him off.

“I’m fine,” Clarke snapped. Bellamy stepped toward her, taking her hand in his and offering a light squeeze. She leaned into him as Raven and Monty followed Kane down to his office. “Do we have the rest of the documents that Roan hadn’t leaked?” she asked, and Wells and Bellamy shared a nervous look.

“Yes, but we can’t do anything with them without revealing ourselves to the Wallace’s,” Wells explained. “Hey, why don’t you go upstairs and lie down for a while? It’s been a long night,” he offered.

Bellamy started nudging Clarke toward the stairs before she could object. Wells shot him a thankful look before getting back to work, and Bellamy and Clarke silently made their way up the stairs. He followed her toward the guest bedroom before asking, “Are you actually okay?”

She sat down on the edge of the bed, looking up at him with wide eyes. “This is my fault,” she whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. He crossed over to her, sitting down beside her before pulling her against his chest.

“You didn’t shoot him, Cage did. This is not your fault,” he reminded, but that didn’t stop her from sobbing into his shirt. “Roan knew what kind of danger he was getting himself into. This is not your fault.”

“How many people do we have to watch die for this?” she murmured, and he clenched his eyes shut. Too many, it seemed. Far too many. “For nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” he snapped, and she pulled her face away to look up at him.

“We have all the evidence we need against them, but we can’t use it without outing ourselves or putting someone else in danger,” Clarke said. “They’ve won.”

“No, not yet,” he promised, tucking his head into her neck. “We just need one solid conviction for one of them, and the rest of it will all come unraveling,” he reiterated. They only had to take down one of them to get the rest. If Sydney had fallen like they needed her to, she would have dragged the Wallace’s with her to lessen her sentence. “We just have to think outside the box, come up with a way to get them convicted without outing ourselves.”

“I might as well start faking my own death now,” she mumbled. “At least then I can beat them to killing me.”


“You were always telling me that Cage Wallace was going to kill me,” she sighed.

“Stop talking like that,” he pleaded, clenching his eyes shut. He was relieved when Clarke didn’t say anything further, though after a few minutes of silence, Bellamy started to feel uneasy and opened his eyes again. Clarke wasn’t crying anymore. No, her eyes were narrowed, and her brows were furrowed. “Clarke?”

Slowly, a smirk formed on her face.

“Clarke,” he said more urgently, and she hopped to her feet, running past the doorway into the hallway. He chased after her, not able to keep up with her as she ran down the stairs.

“What the fuck?” Murphy mumbled as they ran by.

“Clarke!” he shouted, rounding the corner as she stormed into Kane’s office.

“What are you guys doing?” Clarke asked, as Wells, Kane, Raven, and Monty dug through Nia’s files.

“Looking for one crime we can pin them for that won’t be so obviously linked to these files,” Marcus mumbled. “But literally everything here is something that only Nia would have known about. If we use them, it won’t take Dante or Cage long to remember exactly which people Roan suddenly became close to.”

“What about pinning them for a crime that isn’t in those files?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “A murder, more specifically.”

“What are you talking about? It’s not like we can get Cage busted for Roan’s murder,” Kane snapped, throwing a file onto the ground.

“Wasn’t talking about Roan’s,” Clarke said, and Bellamy remembered what they were talking about before Clarke became lost in thought…

“Clarke, no,” Bellamy interjected, and she turned back to look at him, her eyes widening in excitement.

“What is going on in your head?” Raven asked with a curious look in her eyes.

“We’re going to make it look like Cage Wallace murdered his fiancée,” Clarke said. “We’ve done this before, and we can do it again.”

Raven and Wells exchanged nervous looks, but Bellamy caught the way that Kane’s eyes widened, mirroring the look in Clarke’s eyes. “We leave breadcrumbs out that lead the authorities to think that Cage figured out who I really was,” she continued.

“Giving him ample motive,” Kane grinned.

“We can put Nia’s files in Clarke’s basement. The authorities will find it when they do a search of her house, meaning no one has to endanger themselves by leaking it,” Raven added in. “At minimum, Cage will go down for murder, which will derail any hope that Wallace has of taking office. It’s not everything we wanted, but it’s enough to keep them from hurting anyone else.”

“No, they’ll all go down,” Kane said, leaning back. “The second the authorities figure out who Clarke is, they’ll have to investigate what she was doing, taking every piece of evidence she had in her house seriously.” Bellamy thought back to the walls of her basement, covered in articles and files linking things that no police officer or federal agent had even figured out.

Clarke looked up at Bellamy, silently asking him to approve of this plan. “Nothing is actually going to happen to you, right?” he asked.

“I’m going to be fine because I’m going to have you watching out for me,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re in charge of helping me disappear.”

He looked around at the others, who all seemed on board with this plan… just waiting on Bellamy to agree. It was a risky plan… but they were running out of options. Plus, this got Clarke far away from Cage Wallace.

“As long as I get to disappear with you,” he agreed, and Kane snapped into focus, barking off orders as they began making this plan a reality.

Chapter Text

She dug through her closet, double checking that there was nothing else of importance she missed. It wasn’t like Clarke had much from her old life, at least not much of emotional value. She grabbed her dad’s watch and tucked it into her bag. Then, she pulled out her box form the safe, dropping it on her bed. She pulled out the photos and put them in her bag. She left her dad’s old files, the speeches she had stolen, and was left with only the note Bellamy had scribbled for her six years ago.

Forgive me.

She stared at his words for a few moments, haunted by just how many times in her life she had stared at this exact piece of paper. She didn’t need it anymore. She had Bellamy back. But she couldn’t leave it behind for someone to find either. She reached into her bedside table to grab her lighter, setting the paper on fire before dropping it in her trashcan. Clarke took a deep breath as she watched it burn, as if she were watching what happened six years ago finally die.

She finished packing the bag with spare burner phones and wads of cash she had been storing just in case, before taking off down the stairs.

She paused halfway down the stairs, spotting her basement light on. Quietly, she put the bag down and reached for her gun, carefully creeping down the rest of the stairs. When she got to the top of the basement stairs, she heard a familiar groan. “Goddamnit, Bellamy,” she muttered as she jogged down the stairs. “You could have at least warned me that you were breaking into my house,” she huffed, catching the hint of a smirk as he kept his eyes on her wall.

“Where is the fun in that?” he teased as he pulled down another article. “Figured I might as well make sure that nothing here leads to any of the others,” he explained, gesturing to the pile of papers and photos that he had already taken down.

“I was going to get to that,” Clarke reminded. “Seriously, aren’t you supposed to be with the Wallace’s campaigning in Tondc?”

“Can’t do that if you’ve been fired,” Bellamy snorted, and Clarke’s eyes widened. “Yeah, Dante fired me this morning.”

“Fuck,” Clarke muttered, but Bellamy waved her off.

“I’ve already taken care of it. Wells is going to take over my job on the boat. Honestly, this works out better. I don’t have to worry about making a getaway this way,” he said, and Clarke bit down on her lip. He reached his arm toward her, pulling her against him. “Everything is fine,” he whispered right into her ear as she leaned back against his chest.

“Okay,” she sighed, and he brushed her hair to one side before kissing her neck. She narrowed her eyes at the wall, noticing that Bellamy left Murphy’s photo on the wall. “What about Murphy?”

“He said we could leave him up there. He’s already taken off to get his girlfriend and get out of the country,” he said quietly, and Clarke looked back at him to see his tense jaw. “He’ll get linked to this eventually anyway. It’s not like he can play off the connection to us like Wells could. It’s smarter for him to run. That’s why I sent Miller away too.”

“Did you at least get to say goodbye?” Clarke asked, and he nodded.

“I’ll see them again, though. Well, I told them I better see at least one of them again because I’m going to need a best man in the near future,” he said with a soft smile, and Clarke’s heart skipped a beat at those words.

“Monty?” she asked, staying on subject.

“Staying with us until the end to help Raven plant the intel. Neither of them has an obvious connection, so they should be okay when everything hits the fan,” he explained, and Clarke nodded along. Though, she now felt a bit tense about just how few people she was going to have in her corner when she fakes her death. Marcus was going to fake an illness to excuse his presence so that he could run, Miller and Murphy were gone, and now Bellamy had no access to the engagement party… meaning Wells was all Clarke had. “Everything is going to be okay,” he promised, kissing her cheek before letting go of her waist and pulling down another article, this one with a mention of Aurora Blake.

The two of them fell into silence as they scavenged the room, looking for anything else that would incriminate their friends or family. Raven had already cleaned out all of Clarke’s devices, meaning what was in her house was all the authorities would have to go on when they did an investigation into her murder.

“Are you ready to disappear?” Clarke asked, and Bellamy shrugged.

“I didn’t have much to pack. It’ll just look like I left town after Dante fired me,” he sighed, and Clarke nodded along. “I think we’re done here,” he announced, and Clarke spun around, surveying the room now full of Nia’s files. This was it. It was all going to be over.

“Yeah,” she huffed, making her way toward the stairs. Bellamy turned off the light behind him as he followed her up the steps silently. She jogged to the windows, pulling the curtains in case someone was to look in and see Bellamy there. When she turned around, he was leaning against the wall, smirking at her.

“No one is driving in this storm, princess. We’re okay,” he smirked, and she rolled her eyes.

“You’re the one always warning me about how dangerous it is for me to come to your apartment,” Clarke reminded as he sauntered over toward her, pulling her in by her waist.

“I was careful. And Raven and Monty are keeping everyone distracted by leaking something to make the Wallace’s distrust Sydney again,” he smirked, and she rolled her eyes. “No one is worried about you at the moment, not even Cage.”

Her hand twitched at the mention of his name, suddenly very aware of the heavy ring that still sits on her hand. She yanked it off, tucking it in her back pocket, before resting her head on Bellamy’s chest. “Want to go upstairs?” Clarke asked.

“I don’t know,” he smirked, looking up at the ceiling as if he were thinking it over. Clarke pulled away from him with a pout on her lips. He took a beat too long to correct his answer, so Clarke tugged off her shirt, letting it cascade to the ground as Bellamy’s eyes raked over her chest.

“Then, I’ll go by myself,” she teased as she brushed past him. But she didn’t make it far, because Bellamy gripped her by the waist and pushed her up against the wall, his lips trailing down her neck toward her collarbone.

“Baby, you don’t play fair,” he murmured against her skin as he kissed down the skin that wasn’t covered by her bra.

“Why would I start playing fair now?” she smirked as her fingers combed through his curls before tugging back so that he’d look at her. Clarke leaned forward, taking his bottom lip between her teeth gently, loving the way his eyes darkened as she did.

“Get upstairs,” he growled, pressing his lips to her ear, “before I throw you over my shoulder and take you there myself.”

Clarke’s chest rose and fell quickly as he pulled away, and all she wanted to do was kiss that smirk off his face. He knew exactly what he was doing to her… because Clarke wasn’t the only one who didn’t play fair. “That a threat or a promise?” she teased, and before she knew it, Bellamy was throwing her over his shoulder, causing her to erupt into giggles.



She closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of Bellamy rubbing circles into her back and the sound of his heartbeat in his chest. “This is going to work, right?” Clarke asked, letting a bit of doubt escape in her voice.

“Yes,” he said with conviction, and Clarke let out a sigh of relief. “Kane will get out while you’re on the boat. Raven and Monty will be in a secure location and have already figured out how to take out the cameras remotely. Wells will be there to make sure everything goes according to schedule. And I will be ready to make you disappear, like we always planned.”

She opened her eyes, tilting her head to look up at him. He was looking down at her with certain eyes, and Clarke let out a sigh of relief. She could always tell when Bellamy was lying to her… and he was telling the truth. He believed in this plan, which meant it was a good plan.

“Clarke,” he said with a soft smile, his hand leaving her back so he could run his fingers through her hair, “everything will be okay.”

“Promise?” she asked, the panic starting to rise in her. This wasn’t the first time they thought they had them… and she was skeptical that it would be the last. She had been certain of so many other plans, and so had Bellamy… but here they were, on a last-ditch effort to take them all down.

“Got something better,” he said, nudging her off him as he rolled out of bed, and Clarke let out a whine.

“Get back here,” she groaned, and he chuckled warmly as he picked up his pants. “Don’t you dare get dressed. I’m not done with you,” she whined.

“Have I ever told you that you’re literally the least patient person I’ve ever known?” he smirked as he pulled something from the pocket, and Clarke rolled her eyes.

“I’ve met your sister. That can’t be true,” she muttered.

“Second least patient, then,” he teased, and she turned her head back to face him when she felt a dip in the bed.

“I hate you,” she huffed, curling up against him again.

“Sure you do, princess,” he teased, tilting her head up before kissing her. Whatever retort she had in response disappeared from her thoughts the second his tongue plunged past her lips, and she found herself moaning as he pushed her onto her back. She chased his lips as he pulled back from her too soon, whining with frustration when he stopped her from kissing him again. “Patience, oh my God, Clarke,” he smirked. She moved to playfully hit his shoulder, and he caught her hand before bringing his lips to her palm. It had a dizzying effect on Clarke, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off Bellamy as he kissed her hand.

“Bellamy,” she whispered, and his eyes met hers again. He looked at her so softly, gentle in a way that she hardly ever saw him. It was something he reserved for her, when it was just the two of them like this.

“I love you, Clarke,” he murmured.

“I love you too,” she grinned, watching his lips twitch upwards at her words.

“You were sure when you said you wanted to marry me, right?” he asked.

“It’s one of the few things I’m actually sure about,” she replied, but there was still this nervousness in his eyes. “You are one of the few things I’m sure about,” she reiterated, and he let out a breath. “Bell, what’s going on?” she asked, interlacing her fingers with his.

He brought her hand back to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I got you something,” he said, and before Clarke could ask any questions, she spotted the ring in his other hand.

“Bell.” She held her breath as he slipped the ring onto her finger. She stared at it for a few moments, and the weight of his proposal was starting to hit her. This was real. He was going to marry her. They were going to be happy. They could have this.

Bellamy was staring right at her by the time she looked back up at him, his eyes simultaneously soft and piercing somehow. “That’s my promise to you,” he whispered, and all she could do was nod before she pressed her lips against his. Bellamy wouldn’t have given her this if he didn’t believe they would have it. He doesn’t make false promises. Not to Clarke.



Clarke caught Cage taking another pain killer as she came into his room. She paused her movements, noticing the shaky way he was holding himself. “Cage?” she called out as he tucked the bottle back into the drawer. At least him being high on painkillers would help sell the story.

“Sorry, you know how I get a little anxious about these things,” he muttered as he walked over toward her.

She braced her hands on his arms, shooting him a reassuring smile. “You have nothing to worry about. That’s why it’s a private party on a boat. No snipers up in neighboring buildings. You’ll be perfectly safe, I promise,” she said, and he let out a sigh, resting his head on her shoulder. She pat his back reassuringly, looking over her shoulder when she heard something behind her.

Dante was standing in the doorframe, crossing his arms with a strange expression on his face. “Cage, we can cancel tonight,” Dante said, and panic seized Clarke.

“No, it’s fine,” Cage sighed, much to her relief.

“Alright, then put a tie on,” Dante snapped before marching back down the hallway.

“What was that about?” Clarke asked as Cage went to grab a tie from his closet.

“Nothing,” he mumbled as he struggled with the tie. With a sigh, Clarke crossed over to him, taking the tie from his shaking hands.

“Did something happen in Tondc?” she whispered as she began to tie it.

“We got into an argument. It happens all the time,” he muttered, and Clarke nodded along.

“How about we avoid him tonight, then?” Clarke offered with a smile, before finishing the tie. Cage let out a breath, seeming to relax finally, which helped Clarke settle her nerves. The last thing she needed tonight was for Cage to go into the evening upset. It would make everything more difficult. “Are you wearing the cufflinks I gave you?” Clarke asked, and Cage immediately turned around to grab them. She let out a breath, thankful that he didn’t fight her on that. Bellamy had worn them out in the gun range, getting them covered in gunshot residue before Clarke gave them to Cage. If anyone doubted the story she set up, he would have the proof on his cufflinks.

Clarke walked out into the hallway, looking over her shoulder to see Cage grab his gun from his nightstand before shoving it into his pocket. She bit her lip, trying to figure out how she would get rid of his gun. Before she could get too deep into planning, Cage grabbed her hand and started tugging her down the hallway.

“We have a problem,” she heard Raven say into the earpiece, and Clarke’s stomach dropped. “There is going to be a storm tonight.”

Clarke wanted to step away so that she could talk about this with Raven instead of just listening, but Cage and Dante were in a rush to get there, nudging Clarke into a car where she would be trapped with them, unable to talk back to the others.

“We’ll just have to speed everything up,” Wells offered, voicing what Clarke would have said.

“When does it hit?” Bellamy asked, a hint of panic in his voice that made Clarke uneasy.

“Around nine,” Raven said, and Clarke checked the time on her phone. It was five now, and the party started at six. If she and Bellamy were to take off safely, they’d need to be gone by eight… cutting Clarke’s time down to two hours.



Clarke felt like she would pass out by the time they made it onto the boat, especially after silently listening to the others all panic about the upcoming storm. Luckily, Wells was there, and she immediately calmed down.

“If you want to back out, now is the time,” Wells said, and Clarke bit her lip before pulling him to the side. She clicked off her earpiece, raising her eyebrow as she waited for him to do the same. “Clarke,” he huffed as he did.

“We can’t back out. Marcus is already gone. Raven has already put all those documents about me on both Dante and Cage’s devices. All their red flags will go up as soon as we get off this boat,” Clarke sighed. “We have to finish this tonight.”

“I know you heard them on your drive. Bellamy is about to pull the plug on this whole thing because of the storm,” Wells whispered, and Clarke pulled him toward the window, looking out at the sky. It looked calm right now, but Clarke knew what that meant.

“We could do it when we’re closer to the shore,” she whispered, and Wells cocked an eyebrow at her. “I know, less escape time for me, but it also lessens my chance of drowning because I tried to swim during a storm.”

“Raven and Monty can clear the documents. We can bring Marcus back. We can put everything on pause again,” Wells said seriously.

“Well, I can’t,” she snapped. “I can’t be here anymore,” she pleaded, and Wells’ eyes softened. She couldn’t take another moment of her fake life here. Cage could flip on her at any second. Every word out of her mouth is another risk that she’ll say something he doesn’t like and end up with his hand around her throat again.

“There you are,” Cage said, and Clarke fought not to wince as he tilted her head up to greet her with a kiss. “What are you two over here whispering about?”

“Wells was worried about the upcoming storm,” Clarke said, looking right at Wells’ stoic face. “I was reassuring him that we’ll be back to shore long before it gets bad.” Clarke’s mind was made up. This was ending tonight.



She took the vials of her blood that she had taken over the last few weeks, splattering it across the back of the boat before tossing the vials into the water. She had snuck out after “accidentally” spilling her drink on Cage’s jacket, meaning he had to sneak below deck to get the spot off. “If you are going through with this, it needs to be now, Clarke,” Bellamy said into the earpiece, and Clarke stole a glance over the back of the boat, feeling a bit shaky about the next step. All she had to do was pull the trigger and jump. Everyone inside the boat would hear it and make the connection.

“Clarke?” she heard Cage say, and she turned back around to see him furrowing his eyebrows at her. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I was about to come looking for you,” she recovered, though Cage’s eyes were scanning around her, spotting the blood splatter all around her.

“Get out of there,” Bellamy urged over the earpiece. But she was trapped on a boat. There was only one way off, and she wasn’t jumping until this was set up exactly like she needed it to be.

“I knew you were acting strange,” Cage said as he stalked toward her, his eyes predatory, and Clarke caught a brief glimpse of Wells behind him. “I told my dad it was just nerves. What is really going on?”

Then, Wells caught up to him, reaching around him to bring a cloth to his mouth, holding him in place until he fell unconscious. “How did you get chloroform onto this boat?” Clarke huffed.

“You’re welcome,” Wells teased, and Clarke crossed over to him to pull the gun from Cage’s pocket.

“Can you get him back downstairs unseen?” she asked, and Wells nodded as he started to drag him.

“What is happening?” Bellamy and Monty asked in unison.

“Everything is fine,” Clarke reassured, as Wells pulled Cage toward the stairs. “Wells,” she called out, and he stopped. “I’ll see you soon,” she promised, her eyes threatening tears. With a small wave of his hand, Wells was gone.

“Clarke, don’t do anything,” Raven shouted over the earpiece, causing Clarke to jolt. “The storm is picking up quicker than we thought.”

Clarke’s eyes jumped to the sky, seeing exactly what Raven was talking about. “I can’t stay on this boat. Cage saw me.”

“He’ll only stay out for a few minutes, otherwise he’ll have a nice alibi,” Wells backed her up over the earpiece.

“There has to be another option,” Bellamy snapped, but Clarke was already making her way to the ledge. If she stayed on this boat, Cage would actually kill her once he figured out what she was up to. But if she jumped off right now, there was a chance she could live and make it to shore.

“It’s the only choice,” Clarke whispered, pleading for him to understand as she took the safety off Cage’s gun.

“Hold on, let’s think for a second,” Monty said.

“Clarke, back away from the ledge,” Bellamy’s voice cracked, knowing all too well how Clarke’s mind worked. She bit down on her lip, looking at the violent waves down below. Someone else would come looking for her even if Cage didn’t wake up right away. There wasn’t a second to waste. Her best chance at getting off this boat alive was right in front of her. “Please.”

All she had to do was pull the trigger.

“Forgive me,” she whispered before firing off two shots and diving into the stormy waters.

Chapter Text

When Kane and Clarke went silent, Bellamy was a wreck. “They will check in,” Sterling reassured, but Bellamy waved him off. It had been too long… and Bellamy knew what radio silence meant. It was a lesson he learned all too well when they lost Monroe and the others.

“I’m going after them,” he decided, and Riley blocked the door. “Move.”

“You were left out of this mission for a reason,” Sterling warned, and Bellamy turned back to look at him. “Kane thinks you will be reckless because of Clarke.” Bellamy let out a huff, throwing his head back. Kane wasn’t going to stop punishing him for putting an end to their last op because he was scared that Clarke was going to get hurt. But it was Clarke… and Bellamy couldn’t be too careful.

“If you think for a second that I am going to sit by while Clarke —”

“Sterling, can you hear me?” Kane bellowed over the monitor, and Bellamy let out a sigh of relief.

“Yes, is everything okay?” Sterling asked, shooting Bellamy a warning look.

“We got what we needed, but Clarke is going to need stitches,” Kane said, his voice sounding shaky enough to send Bellamy into a panic. “On our way back now.”

“Breathe,” Sterling whispered, and Bellamy put his hands over his head, forcing himself to breathe correctly. She just needed stitches… that was all. She would be okay. She had to be. She was Clarke, after all.

It took another half hour for Kane and Clarke to make it back to the compound, and Bellamy insisted on giving her stitches. “No offense, but you aren’t exactly the best person for this task,” Clarke teased as he cleaned the wound on her arm.

“No offense, but you taught me how to do this, so if I’m bad at this, it’s on you,” he muttered, trying to match her teasing tone, but he was too stressed to be able to.

“What’s with you? You’ve been in a weird mood since we got back,” Clarke huffed, and his eyes flickered up to meet hers.

“If you had made one misstep, this wound could have been something you wouldn’t have recovered from,” he snapped, and she literally rolled her eyes at him. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”

“You weren’t there. It wasn’t as bad as Kane made it sound. I wasn’t going to die or anything,” she hissed, and he clenched his jaw.

“So, you’re just gonna spend the rest of your life taking unnecessary risks, huh?” he huffed. “What happens to me then? Do I just spend the rest of my life hoping you make it back to me?” He could feel Clarke’s eyes boring into him, but he directed his attention back to the task at hand. “Do you really not see how important your life is to me?”

“Bellamy, you knew what this was when you agreed to —”

“That was an agreement I made before I fell in love with you,” he shouted, his eyes locking with hers as the words left his lips. These were words that the two of them avoided at all costs. They both knew that what they were doing was more than just sleeping together, despite what they told themselves. But it was never supposed to become this. It was just supposed to be two people seeking out the only real comfort they could have in this life. Nothing more.

Bellamy wasn’t sure when it happened… but it happened. He fell fast and hard for a girl who valued justice more than her own life… something that haunted Bellamy. It was only a matter of time before she took a risk and he lost her for good… and he wouldn’t survive losing Clarke Griffin. She was all he had anymore, the only reason he stuck with Kane as long as he did, the only one who really understood his pain.

“You love me?” she asked, her eyes welling with tears, and a knot formed in his chest at the sight. “Bell, we talked about this. You… you can’t —”

“Well, I do,” he cut her off, getting to work stitching her up before her sad eyes haunted him too much. “For my sake, promise not to take any more risks that could get you killed,” he begged quietly.

“You know I can’t promise you that,” she whispered, and he bit down on his lip, stilling his hands for a moment. He knew that. There would come a day where Clarke did what she had to do, and he just prayed that he could get to her in time to save her. He’d dedicate his life to it if it meant keeping her safe. “Look at me,” she ordered, and he swallowed before glancing up at her piercing blue eyes. “I love you too.”

Bellamy had lost count of just how many times he tried to get her to make that promise… but he knew for a fact that Clarke Griffin never actually made that promise to him. If he had that promise to hold onto, maybe hearing those two gunshots from over her earpiece wouldn’t have shaken him to the core. But he didn’t… meaning he had nothing to hold onto as he screamed from the shore.

“Wells!” Bellamy screamed into his earpiece. He needed to know if Wells could see Clarke, if he could somehow get to her… That gunshot had been ringing in Bellamy’s ears, her quiet forgive me haunting him as he tried to figure out what to do. There was always a chance this would go wrong. Bellamy had his own boat ready to go just in case he needed to get to her quickly, thank God.

“Fuck,” Raven muttered as Bellamy pulled the boat keys from his pocket. “Monty, can you get eyes on what is happening?”

“Wells, answer,” Bellamy pleaded, but he knew that Wells pulled his earpiece out before Clarke pulled the trigger. That was exactly what he was supposed to do so that the authorities wouldn’t find it in his ear when the boat was back on shore.

“No, I can’t get the cameras back on,” Monty explained. “Bellamy, what are you doing?”

“Meeting Clarke halfway. She won’t make it to shore,” Bellamy said as he hopped into the speed boat. “Send me where the boat was when Clarke fired the shots.” He would get to her. He would find her. He had to.

“Use your head,” Raven warned, but Bellamy had already started the boat. “Bellamy, stop.”

“Don’t try to—” he shouted only to be interrupted by a loud crack of thunder in the distance, and he froze for a moment.

“Clarke is smart. She’ll know she can’t make it back on her own. Look for a buoy and pray you find her holding onto it,” Monty jumped in, as Bellamy took off, already feeling how rocky the waters were.

His eyes were scanning the water as Raven read off the coverage to them. The news only knew there were shots fired on the boat, but no one knows who was shot or who fired the gun… but it meant that Bellamy didn’t have long before the Coast Guard showed up.

He finally saw the boat off in the distance and slowed down, scanning for buoys in the area. When he spotted one in the distance, and beelined toward it… but Clarke wasn’t there. When he found another, still no Clarke. “Come on, Clarke,” he whispered, pleading with her to help him find her somehow, as he looked up at the sky again. The storm was about to hit him, and the boat that Clarke had been on was heading back toward him quickly.

“Bellamy, if you want to survive this, you need to head back, now,” Raven said. He took off again, going closer to the boat, hoping that she’ll turn up.

“She’s out here some—” Bellamy said before being interrupted by the sound of a gunshot to the south, the opposite direction Bellamy had been travelling. He jerked the small boat around and sped in that direction.

“Hurry!” Monty shouted, and Bellamy caught a small sliver of blonde in the distance, clinging to a buoy.

“Found her,” he announced, as he sped toward her. Slowly, he was able to make out Clarke’s face, seeing her eyes melt in relief as she saw him. “Clarke,” he called out as he slowed down. When he finally stopped, he held out his hand to her, his entire body relaxing as she took his hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as he pulled her up, shaking in his arms as he got her onto the boat. He gripped her face between his hands before pressing a hard kiss to her lips, his tears falling onto her cheeks as he did. Clarke’s alive.

“You two can’t get back to shore. The authorities are crawling all over it,” Monty said, snapping Bellamy back into focus.

“We can’t stay on the water,” Bellamy reminded, and Clarke’s eyes widened in panic. He sat her down carefully, and she quickly pulled a blanket out from under the seat, wrapping herself in it to get her to stop shaking.

“Give me a second,” Raven snapped, and Bellamy got the boat moving again. “A lighthouse. There has to be one nearby,” she realized, and Bellamy let out a sigh of relief.

“Found it. You might be able get to it in time,” Monty said, as Bellamy heard a loud clap of thunder getting a bit too close.

“I hope you’re right,” Bellamy sighed.



Bellamy could still hear the waves crashing against the lighthouse once he shut the door, his hand shaking a bit as he reached out toward Clarke. “There has to be some extra blankets or something in here,” Clarke said, her eyes scanning the room. He got a grip on her hand, pulling her back toward him so he could bury his face into her neck.

“We’ll look in just a second,” he whispered, holding back a sob.

“Bellamy,” she pleaded.

“Just give me a second,” he begged as he combed his fingers through her damp curls. This was the first moment he had been able to breathe since he heard Clarke pull the trigger. “I love you so much, Clarke.”

She gripped his face between her shaky hands, forcing him to look at her tearstained face. “I love you too. But don’t you ever risk your life like that again,” she said sternly, and he rolled his eyes.

“You risked your life first,” he pointed out, and she narrowed her eyes at him for half a second before a giggle escaped her lips. “This isn’t funny.”

“I know,” she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand and a blush crept to her cheeks. “How the hell have we survived this long while being such reckless idiots?”

“A question that Kane asks constantly,” Bellamy snorted, and Clarke rested her head on his chest as she chuckled quietly. “Speaking of survival… you get to work on searching for blankets down here. I’ll check out upstairs.”

When Clarke broke out of his grip, he finally looked around the dark lighthouse. There was a small sofa covered in a cloth, but that was the only real furniture in the room. He jogged toward the stairs, carefully watching his step in the dark. Only the upstairs window provided him light as he dug through what looked like a study, though it was completely bare. The light switches didn’t work, and it didn’t feel like there was any heating or cooling in the lighthouse. It had clearly been abandoned, no one setting foot inside probably in years… which was good for staying hidden, but not so good for staying alive. The only useful thing he found were a box of matches. “Is there a fireplace down there?” Bellamy shouted down the stairs, his voice barely louder than the howling wind outside.

“Think so,” Clarke shouted back, and he made his way back down the creaking stairs. “This is the closest thing we’re getting to a blanket,” she muttered as she pulled the sheet off the couch.

He took a deep breath as he looked around for firewood, remembering that the two of them just had to make it until the storm was over. Monty and Raven may not be able to talk to them through the earpieces, but they knew exactly where they were.

He only found a little bit and was able to get a small fire going that would last long enough for he and Clarke to dry off. Wordlessly, the two of them peeled off their wet clothing before huddling together on the floor in front of the fireplace, Clarke wrapping their makeshift blanket around them. Finally, she rested her head against his chest, and he let out a sigh of relief.



“I need you to promise me something,” he said sternly, and she tilted her head up to look at him. They had been sitting in front of the fire and listening to the storm for at least an hour now, maybe more. “Tell me that was the last time you risk your life like that. Please,” he begged, and her eyes softened. He looked back into the fire before she could deny him that promise again, his stomach tightening at the prospect of this happening again.

She was the love of his life… and he wasn’t sure he could survive yet another day like today. He had spent too much of his life thinking he had lost her, and it destroyed him.

“It was the last time,” Clarke murmured, and his eyes flickered back to hers. She was looking right at him with wide eyes, and he bit his lip. “I promise.”

“You promise?” he asked shakily, reaching his hand up to cup her cheek.

“I promise,” she said again before pressing a gentle kiss to his closed lips. He rested his forehead against hers, taking a deep breath as he let the weight of those words wash over him. His eyes fell shut, only hearing Clarke’s soft breathing and the thunder outside.

“I’m going to get us far away from here,” he whispered, and Clarke’s hand slid over his as he ran his thumb across her soft cheek. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe,” she reminded, and he opened his eyes just in time to see Clarke close the distance between them, crashing her lips into his. He whimpered into her mouth as she gripped his face between her hands, stumbling into his lap. His arms wrapped tightly around her, pressing his chest firmly against hers. His hand slid up her back to her neck before tangling itself in Clarke’s still damp hair, moaning as soon as he felt Clarke’s tongue graze his.

She moved to straddle his lap, her legs wrapping around him frantically as her tongue plunged into his mouth. Her fingers weaved their way into his curls, massaging his scalp as he clung to her. “I love you,” he murmured between kisses, feeling a bit out of breath. She paused for a moment, resting her forehead against his with the sweetest smile that he could only make out from the wavering fire beside them. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

“I think I have an idea,” she whispered back before biting her bottom lip. Her hand rested on his chest now, and he noticed that Cage’s ring was no longer on it. He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering where it had gone. “Came off in the water, thank God,” she muttered, and an unexpected chuckle escaped his lips. “I’ll put the one you gave me on my hand as soon as we get out of here.”

“I can’t wait,” he whispered with a small smile on his face. “I’ve waited so long for you already.”

“Well,” she grinned as her thumb traced over his bottom lip, “you don’t have to wait anymore.” He blinked a few times at her words. It was over. Cage Wallace was likely being interrogated as they spoke, Dante probably not far behind him. Raven would release the footage from Roan’s house to the press, revealing his violent tendencies toward Clarke. It would take the authorities less than a day to find all the motive they could need. When Cage fell, Dante would fall soon after… and when Dante fell, Diana Sydney and every other monster she had propped up would fall too. It was over, and they were free.

He was free, Clarke was free… they could have their life together finally. He surged forward and took her lips again, and she giggled happily into his mouth… a sound that he would get to hear for the rest of his life. Her hair fell in his face, making it hard for him to see much of anything. He let his eyes fall shut as she dragged her lips all across his cheeks and jaw, savoring the soft sighs escaping her lips that he barely heard over the thunder outside these walls.

He snuck his hand down her stomach, resting between her legs. “Sweetheart,” he murmured as he felt how wet she was for him already. Her eyes went wide as his fingers gently traced her clit. “I’ve got you,” he promised as she lifted her hips a bit. She buried her face into his neck, kissing his throat breathlessly as he slowly rubbed her throbbing clit. Her kisses turned into moans into his skin as she tugged at his curls when he picked up the pace. His erection was pressing into her thigh, becoming more difficult to ignore with every beautiful moan falling off her lips. “Come on, princess,” he murmured.

“Fuck,” she panted as she bucked against his hand.

“Come for me, Clarke,” he pleaded, and she lifted her head to look up at him. “Come for me, baby.” Her lips slammed into his as she grinded herself against his hand, her moan echoing in his mouth. He felt her shudder in his grasp, her moans turning into sweet whimpers as she clung harder to his curls. He kept kissing her as she came down, his fingers slowing down their movements.

“I love you,” she finally whispered against his lips.

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured. “And I love you.” Her arms wrapped around his neck as she kissed him again, this time hungrier than before. His hands found her hips, slowly moving her right over his cock. “Do you need more, my beautiful girl?”

One of her arms fell from him, instead reaching back to grip his cock. His eyes fluttered shut as her soft hand gave him a torturous squeeze. “I think you need something, too,” she teased, and he nodded helplessly. “I’ve got you,” she whispered right into his ear before pulling her lips away. He was about to protest when he felt her lower herself onto him, earning an involuntary guttural moan from Bellamy. “Fuck,” she whispered, and his eyes jerked open to see his beautiful Clarke lowering herself onto him, tilting her head back with her lips parted.

“Beautiful,” was the only thing he could stutter out at the perfect sight. Her blue eyes flickered to his, nearly knocking the breath out of him. How did he end up with something so precious, so perfect? How was she even real?

She leaned forward, and their lips met for a brief moment. When she pulled away, he snapped out of his trance, pulling her back to him so he could show her just how desperately he loved her. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her up and down on his cock as she whimpered into his mouth.

“So good,” Clarke panted against his lips, and a smirk formed against his lips.

“Yeah?” he teased, and she playfully took his bottom lip between her teeth.

“Yeah, you feel so good inside me,” she murmured, earning a small growl from him as he captured her lips again, before thrusting up into her. “Fuck,” she moaned.

“That’s it,” he said softly. “You gonna come for me, Clarke? You know I love watching you come for me, sweetheart.”

She nodded as she leaned forward to try and bury her face into his neck, but he pulled her back. He wanted to see her when she fell apart for him. He reached down to find her sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly as he thrusted up into her again. “Fuck,” she whimpered, throwing her head back. When he thrust into her again, a scream escaped her lips before her jaw went slack. Her lips parted beautifully as she moaned and cried out, the dying light from the fire making her look like she was glowing right in front of him. It was a sight too beautiful for him to control himself, so he quickly came undone after her.



Bellamy heard something that sounded like footsteps. He opened one eye, spotting Clarke lying on top of him with only the sheet from the couch covering her ass. “When Raven called, I had expected that you two would at least be dressed when I found you,” a woman’s voice said, causing him and Clarke to jump. He located her by the door of the lighthouse with curly hair and an expression on her face that said she would kill them if she had to. “Get dressed.”

“Wait, Raven sent you?” Bellamy asked as Clarke covered herself up.

“Yeah, I’m her friend, Luna. I hear you need a ride out of the country,” she said with a smirk, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at Clarke.

“I’ve heard about her,” she reassured quietly.

“I’m getting impatient. Get dressed so we can take off before the Coast Guard makes their next round,” she muttered before slamming the door behind her.

The two of them quickly sprung to their feet, finding the still damp clothes they had shed when they first came inside the lighthouse. When they stepped outside, they realized it was still dark out, probably a few hours before sunrise. The two of the quickly made their way onto Luna’s boat, only to find her holding a phone out toward him. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her as he took it. “Good, you’re okay,” Raven sighed, and Bellamy let out a breath.

“Yeah, we got to the lighthouse just before it got really bad,” he said, and Luna started barking off orders to her crew.

“Luna has the bags you packed and she’s gonna drop you guys off in Mexico. Can you guys get farther away from there?” she asked, and Bellamy looked over at Clarke who had pressed her ear as close to the phone as she could get. She nodded quickly, and he let out a breath.

“Yeah, we’ll be good. What happened after we went offline?”

“I leaked the video, which made it impossible for Dante to talk his way into getting Cage out of being held for questioning. Monty said the authorities are on their way to search Clarke’s house. We’ve got this. You two just go find somewhere safe to hide. You can trust Luna,” she reassured before hanging up.



When he and Clarke checked into a motel, the first thing they did was check up on the news. Several women came forward reinforcing the claims that Cage was abusive, which looked pretty damning next to the video of Cage trying to strangle Clarke. That combined with the fact that everyone at the engagement party heard two gun shots and the authorities found Clarke’s blood splattered on the boat… well, he didn’t stand a chance. He was charged, and the DA said he was doing a complete investigation into his motive.

The next time he and Clarke checked in with the news was when they made it to Peru. By this point, it was common knowledge that Clarke Kane was actually Clarke Griffin, the daughter of Jake Griffin. Most of what had been in her house had been leaked. He and Clarke watched a brief interview that one of the newscasters did with Wells, where he played the part of the shocked best friend who had been played along with the rest of them perfectly. There were rumors going around that Cage had killed Marcus Kane too, since no one had been able to locate him since Clarke was shot.

Just before they got on another boat, a handful of charges had been brought against Dante as well, and the connection to Diana Sydney was already broadcasted on every major network. Raven and Monty had gotten out of Mt. Weather by then, both going back to their lives finally.

By the time they got back on land, the entire house of cards had fallen. Diana, Dante, Cage, Ontari… all of them were gone. Dante was going to serve multiple life sentences, as was Diana. Cage had been murdered in prison, and Bellamy had to fight not to smile at that news.

It took a few days, but Clarke finally figured out where Kane had hidden her mother. He recognized the older Griffin immediately when she came running out of the small house she had been hiding out in, her face erupting into a smile as she wrapped Clarke in her arms.

Tears formed in Bellamy’s eyes at the sight. Clarke had known her mother wasn’t actually dead, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t feel that way. She hadn’t been able to communicate with her in years for her own safety. Clarke didn’t know if she would ever see her mother again.

Abby Griffin’s head popped up to look in Bellamy’s direction. “Mom, this is Bell—”

“I know who this is,” she interrupted as she broke away from Clarke to pull Bellamy in for a hug. Bellamy locked eyes with Clarke who was giggling as she wiped away her tears. “Marcus has said a thing or two about him,” she said, and Bellamy looked back at the house, seeing Marcus Kane standing smugly in the doorway, smirking at him with crossed arms… as if to ask what took him so damn long to get here.

Once inside, Abby set them up in the guest bedroom and asked a thousand questions. Bellamy made contact with Miller so that he could give Octavia his location in case she needed him or wanted to see him, and Miller told him that Octavia was doing pretty well with Lincoln, which helped Bellamy breathe a bit easier.

After a long evening of giving every single detail of their long journey to Abby and Kane, he and Clarke fell into their bed for the night. Clarke curled up against him, resting her head on his chest. Her left hand was rubbing circles on his other shoulder, and Bellamy’s eyes shut.

“We made it,” she whispered, and a small smile formed on his face.

“I know,” he murmured. Somehow, the two of them survived.

“So, what do we do now?” she teased.

He grabbed her hand in his, admiring his ring on her finger. Bellamy pulled her hand to his lips, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the back of her hand. “I have a few ideas,” he smirked, and Clarke slid closer to him with a huge grin on her face.

“Which are?” she asked.

“Well, first I want to marry you,” he started.

“I mean, I’m already technically Mrs. Walters, so we might as well be married already,” she teased, and he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling.

“Okay, well I still want a wedding,” he snorted, and the sweetest giggle escaped from Clarke’s lips as she propped herself up to look at him. “It can just be a little thing. Hell, it can just be the two of us.”

“I don’t need to be convinced,” she whispered, her eyes practically beaming back at him. “So, you’re gonna marry me. What next?”

He could just see it all so perfectly, all the things he was too scared to dream about before. He could see them settling down somewhere small, just like Abby and Kane did. They’d get married, build up a life here together. They could have kids. They could have a family. He could watch Clarke be the most incredible mother that he knows she would be. He could be a father, and he would do his damned best to be a good one.

He could go to sleep every night knowing that he would wake up to Clarke beside him… and that realization made his eyes well up with tears of happiness.

“We’re going to be happy,” he finally replied, his voice breaking a bit at those words. Clarke surged forward, kissing his lips frantically.

Bellamy knew what happiness was. He got brief tastes of it in his stolen moments with Clarke. But there were no more stolen moments. Bellamy had Clarke. Clarke had Bellamy. There was no more hiding together, no more sneaking around… just Bellamy and Clarke, vowing to make each other happy for the rest of their lives.