This is a fiction I posted on here about a year ago – maybe more than a year ago.

My account had a glitch or maybe I was hacked so all of my stories were deleted. Now I'm posting them again.

I hope you enjoy this sad / fluffy bellarke story. And, please stay tuned for part 2 and 3 which are complete. I'll post them in the following 24 hours or so. I still need to read-proof them and correct a few spelling mistakes here and there.

…...

I – ONE

"The way you speak is very important." Her father would always say. "It portrays you, represents you – do you understand, honey?"

She would nod though half his words eluded her.

"And when you have nothing good to say, then better not say anything at all."

That she thought she could understand, so she would pay attention to her language and to which words she'd use. And though she is only five, she thinks she can soon learn to speak just the way her father does.

She's playing in the courtyard of the school, reminiscing his lecture and waiting for him to come pick her up that sunny afternoon. She's speaking to herself when her mother comes bolting through the gates. Abigail Griffin appears to be quite disheveled, she has bloodshot eyes and messy hair. And in fact it looks as if she has just come out of bed or else spent a whole lot of time crying.

"Mommy?" The girl calls and looks up at the tall and slender woman.

The woman raises her hand and waves. "Clarke!" She says in a shaky voice. "Common, baby, hurry. We need to get to the hospital."

That day, five year-old Clarke learns that sometimes people can be almost dead but not quite. It's what happens to her dad when his heart stops. They call it a heart-attack and even if she has gotten very scared for her father, she likes that very new word, heart-attack.

Fortunately, her father heals and doesn't die and she's happy. But just to make sure that he's alright and that he will always be safe from that dreadful sickness, she promises that she will study hard and become a doctor. That way she can work in hospitals and if her daddy's heart falls sick, she will be able to fix it.

She knows that she will be able to fix him, fix people in general and as she imagines herself growing up, she knows that no one can take this inspiration away from her.

Fixing people's bodies and hearts – She whispers under her breath every once in a while and giggles to herself, it sounds quite nice when she says it and she loves the way it rolls out of her mouth.

And like her father says, the way you speak is very important, so from then on if she can't be a doctor yet, she will simply have to speak like a grown up, and more specifically like a grown up who can fix people's bodies.

…...

The first time she meets the Blakes, she's only six years old but there is that instant connexion between them and she knows right away that Octavia can only be her platonic soulmate while Bellamy is her evident enemy.

She is standing in a corner of the courtyard, alone as usual and immersed in her own little theories about living things and insects.

She is observing a brown worm as it struggles to move across the tarred ground when the little brunette comes running her way, munching on a brownie and extending her chocolate-stained hand for her to shake.

"Hello! I'm Octavia! With a big O." The blue-eyed little girl says enthusiastically.

"Hum – I'm Clarke and – you know, your hand is dirty." The blond-haired girl scrunches up her nose and steps away but attempts a polite smile nonetheless.

"Oh!" The little brunette lets out a giggle and looks down at the residue of chocolate, sticking all over her hands. "It's just chocolate!"

She shrugs and wipes her palms on the hem of her dress, her lips stretching into a wide smirk.

"You know, Bellamy always says that a little dirt is good." She explains and her eyes lit up as she repeats what her older brother has taught her.

"Well, that's – that's very funny." Clarke stammers as she recalls her mother's advice. "Because my mommy says that dirt is a big problem! And it is a so so big problem when you're sick too and my mommy is a doctor."

The shorter brunette casts her head down when Clarke mentions her mother. For a long while they remain silent but when Octavia's sobs break the awkward silence, Clarke feels bad, wondering what caused the girl to cry so suddenly.

"Hey!" She nudges her and shakes her head frantically. "Don't cry."

"I – I – never –" The little Octavia stammers through her loud sobbing. "I never see my mommy, I think – I think, I don't have one."

She mentally takes note of that important detail: never to mention mommies, because it makes her this new girl cry. The second thing she needs to take into account is a much more complex problem and its name is Bellamy.

He comes running the moment Octavia's crying reverberates throughout the courtyard and he is prepared. Prepared for what? Clarke is not sure but she already is stepping back, just in case.

"What's wrong, zipperhead?" He asks as soon he reaches them, not so discreetly glaring at Clarke as he rubs his little sister's back.

He looks really bad in his washed out coveralls and the oversized baggy shirt. Clarke refrains from commenting on his poor lack of fashion though as she remembers her father's words: to remain silent if she has nothing good to say. She notices with a withering look that he seems to know better when it comes to fighting or breaking the rules given the amount of scratches and bruises covering his face and arms, and last but not least, he is obviously a few years older as he towers over the two of them.

"Did she hurt you?" He asks roughly when the little girl looks up at him, tears dropping down her cheeks.

"No." Octavia whispers quietly and reaches out for Clarke's hand. "She's my friend now." She adds simply and smiles wistfully. "Right, Clarke?"

Clarke's green eyes freeze as the two children stare at her expectantly and before she can think, she's nodding frantically, her heart suddenly racing inside her chest because Bellamy's dark brown eyes are drilling a hole in her head and she's convinced that if looks could kill she would be dead already.

"Yes!" Octavia sings out, her tears drying already and she pulls Clarke closer to her brother.

"Clarke!" She chirps out happily. "You are going to love, Bellamy! He's my big brother and he always scares the bad guys away!"

The heart of the matter is that, though she tries to be nice to him to make Octavia happy, she can't possibly deny that her first encounter with that – that thing can only be described as hate at first sight. His dark brown eyes are too vicious to deliver any sort of friendliness and his sharp features are too tough to convey the least sympathy, so she thinks she has better ignore him as much as she possibly can, failing to understand in the process, that her indifference is the one thing that drives him crazy.

II – TWO

They grow up together in the small town called Wilmington, in Delaware. It is a friendly and cosy place in the daylight but when night comes, it turns into that eerily quite and empty desolate village. So by the time she turns twelve, Clarke is already dreaming of leaving the shrinking hole she grew up in, her light head filled with great plans and great ambition, prospects of a brilliant career in the medical field as well as hopes of finding the perfect partner to have a number of babies with.

She thinks she's late that very early morning as she hurries out the front door, hardly locking up before sprinting down the narrow and familiar street and as usual, when she reaches the outskirts of her neighborhood, Bellamy Blake passes by as he drives on his obnoxiously loud motorbike. Surely waking the entirety of their town before he speeds down the main avenue, that one, she thinks with a grimace. She knows that he is sixteen now and has successfully passed his driving license, and is therefore allowed to drive the monstrous vehicle he calls his baby, but she is convinced that he is a public menace and if only she had the required skills and if only she wasn't a minor, she would find a way to fire a lawsuit and have him deprived of his most precious belonging.

Fortunately, she recalls with a smile, his sister is nothing like him and Clark can't help but grin happily as she sees her emerging from the street which Bellamy had previously sprung from. She is wearing the same old blue dress with a matching ribbon holding her hair in a side ponytail and she looks as happy as usual, the dimples in her cheeks showing as she giggles.

"Clarke! I knew you'd be late too!" She waves enthusiastically and her feet start racing down the street and then up the avenue to join her friend on the sidewalk.

"Yeah. Mom forgot to wake me before going to her early shift at the hospital." Clarke sighs audibly. "And dad – well dad's been acting really weird lately."

Octavia bends down for a few seconds, catching her breath and nodding at the same time to let the blond know that she is listening.

"Well." Octavia takes a deep breath and proceeds to walk alongside Clarke as they follow the path to school. "All men are weird anyways."

Clarke nudges the shorter girl and sighs again.

"I'm serious, zipperhead." She whines, the nickname having stuck a long time ago, partly because of Bellamy but mostly because she likes how much it annoys the younger girl.

"Don't call me that princess, for the hundredth time, don't!" Octavia tenses up visibly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fine. Sorry." Clarke can't help the smirk tugging at her lips because she does not, in fact, feel the least sorry and Octavia knows it, so she pinches her arm.

"Ouch!" Clarke moans and massages her skin, shooting her friend a glare.

"So," Octavia starts with satisfaction at the sight of a grimacing Clarke. "What's up with your father anyways?"

"I'm not sure." Clarke looks up at the cloudless sky as they walk, her eyes wondering at the beauty of the light blue surface overhead. "It's like he's hiding something, like – like he's planning something on the side. I'm onto him anyways."

Octavia shakes her head in disbelief.

"Doesn't sound like your father." She shrugs. "I mean, he's the most truthful guy around, I think."

"I used to think that too." Clarke whispers wistfully.

"All right," Octavia claps her hands as they approach the large and decrepit building that is Mount Everest middle school. "Spill it, Clarke! What happened?"

Clarke takes a long and calming breath before opening her mouth again, feeling her heart skipping a beat as her friend squeezes her hand.

"Octavia, I think my dad is cheating on my mom."

III – THREE

It wasn't him cheating, or her cheating. No one is cheating on anyone. In fact, everything looks terrific for a while, too smooth to be true and too calm for her to believe that her parents are fine. But she is a sucker for love and affection and she basks in the moment, forgetting about how often her parents used to argue and fight, deciding that she is better off pushing the dark thoughts to the back of her mind as she recalls the gradual change in their demeanor and especially her mother's.

As time passes and she comes to celebrate her sixteenth birthday, she realizes that her dad's gift must be, in fact, an apology of some sort foreshadowing an impending catastrophe. The dark shimmery Dodge car and the sweet sixteen party are too much of a present, she thinks. Her parents are not the kind who pamper her in any way and though she is an only child, they never buy extravagant gifts, always encouraging her to be more independent, expecting her to find a part time job at the local store to save up on her allowance and start planning her future in college.

Still, she thinks, she has better ignore all the depressing questions and suspicions dawning on her tired mind. And Octavia is probably right, she has to start enjoying life, she has to forget about all of the things gone wrong between her parents so that she can better focus on her own self, and the immediate present.

"Hey, princess!" A raucous voice calls over the loud chatter and the deafening music blasting inside her house. "You, all right?"

She blinks at the slender figure standing by the open bay window and recognizes the young man instantly. Gone are the poor fashion skills and the scratches or bruises. Now the twenty year-old man standing before her has stubble on his jaw and slick raven hair coiffed to perfection. And as he approaches her, she inhales deeply, enjoying the sweet fragrance of his cologne.

"Bellamy Blake!" She cackles good-naturedly. "Who would have thought that you of all people would show up to my sweet sixteen?!"

He lets out a mocking chuckle, taking a sip of his beer and shuffles closer to the couch she is sat on, shoving the brown haired girl sitting next to her and finding barely enough space on the edge of the leathered surface.

"Well what's a party without the actual bully." He shrugs and nudges her playfully.

"Oh, please! Don't flatter yourself, you are not that important."

"Ouch!" He laughs openly at her comment. "When did you get so feisty?"

"Let's just say you missed a lot ever since you left." She whispers in his ear and for a little while she wonders if she's lost her mind because it might have seemed like she was flirting and the look in his eyes causes her heart to flutter uncomfortably inside her chest.

Bellamy has long left Wilmington, having graduated and moved to New York where he majors in law and political science. And as time passed, he grew older and more serious and surprisingly, she grew to dislike him a bit less. But now that she sees him for the first time ever since his senior year, she can't believe that she feels so strangely comfortable around him, his face reminding her of the good old days, of their history of dedicated hate throughout their childhood years.

"Why, I'd love to catch up." He whispers in response and she feels his warm breath caressing her bare neck.

"Ha!" She chuckles and pushes him away. "Don't be a tease, Bell." She shakes her head playfully. "You're obviously not so good at it."

"Are you kidding me?" He scoffs. "All these years of suffering must have been enough proof!"

She knows exactly what he means by such a scornful remark but she doesn't fluster the way she used to back when they were kids and she laughs softly instead, her head tilting to the side as she scrutinizes his mature face.

"Yeah, I think I've lost count of all the wonderful times you actually pranked me." Her voice is gentle and amicable as she sits cross-legged, her long and shimmery black gown covering the whole of her legs and she doesn't fail to notice his dark eyes trailing down her frame, and she thinks she sees a very slight glint of admiration shinning through them.

"I haven't." He smiles kindly at her, the serenity stretching his lips reaches his sparkling eyes and causes her to repress a gasp silently.

"Hey! Get away from my best friend!" A familiar voice whines and Bellamy is quickly pulled away from the couch for Octavia Blake and Wells Jaha to sit down on each side of the blond-haired birthday girl.

"Go fetch us some drinks, dear brother!" Octavia orders and flicks her wrist as she glances up at an annoyed Bellamy. "Oh c'mon, you owe me remember?"

Clarke isn't sure what Bellamy owes his sister but she doesn't ask any questions and cranes her neck to look at Wells instead.

"I'm so glad you could make it, Wells." She says with a grin and wraps her arms around his neck. "When did you get home?" She asks, because her best male friend is slightly older and is a freshman at NYCU.

She is a little drunk and very much tired due to accumulated lack of sleep but she's happy. She has her sweet party, her parents pretending to be in fond love again and her two best friends standing at arms length. Archly looking up at Well's soft eyes, she remembers clearly the first time they met when she enrolled for the basketball club at school. He used to be the best point guard in Wilmington but then he graduated and had to move to New York. Now he is back home for the first time ever since the beginning of the school year and she's missed him so much, she wishes he were allowed to sleep over with her and Octavia.

She's till basking in her happiness and the comfort radiating from the presence of her two best friends when a piercing scream jolts her out of her thoughts, causing her and Octavia to jump up in fear.

"What the hell?" Wells croaks out and a series of gunshots disrupt the party, the music quickly coming to a stop.

"Oh my God!" Octavia exclaims and they all lie down on their stomach while the rest of the teenagers rush out of the house in deafening shrieks, drowning the street in a cacophony of panicked voices screaming for help.

"Stay here, stay down!" Wells orders and rises up to his feet.

Clarke refuses to listen and jumps up, ready to tug at her best friend's arm but only to be yanked away by a panicked Bellamy, holding her against his chest and dragging her back down to the hardwood floor.

"Wells!" Clarke screams at the top of her lungs. "Wells, don't!"

But her friend barely turns around to look at her one last time and then her strangled screams and sobs are lost in the spring night air.

IV – FOUR

The first time she willingly caresses Bellamy's arm, the three of them are standing by the two brown coffins. She's in the middle, each of her hands gripping hard at the siblings standing on each side of her and though she tries her best not to break down, she fails to hold in the salty tears as they come rapidly down her cheeks, leaving streaks of dark mascara over her face and causing the rest of the mournful party to look sadly at her.

She hates it. All of it. If it was up to her, there would be no such thing. No funeral, no post-funeral reception and no dark-cladded guests. And that way she wouldn't even have to deal with the fact that they're dead. Both Wells and her daddy. Gone and never coming back, and all that because some deranged man had fired theses bullets that specific night? It doesn't add up, doesn't make sense to her how her dad and Wells were the only ones shot by the crazy man.

In the beginning few people believe her, and they don't want to hear about her conspiracy theories, but by the end of high school and more precisely the day she turns eighteen, no one believes her, in fact, they are all convinced that it was all a sad turn of events and a coincidence.

"No one is trying to kill your family, Clarke!" Her mother scolds her right after they've attended the memorial dedicated to her father and Wells.

She did not want any sort of mournful event, and if anyone asks her, well, she now thinks that almost all sorts of rites are doomed.

"Why were you and dad so weird the few months prior to his death?" Clarke asks, her voice sounding cold and unfaltering.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" Her mother says through gritted teeth. "Drop it. The case has been solved. It was all an accident."

And in that moment, she thinks that she might very well kill her own mother but the soothing voice of her father comes to her clouded mind and his wise advice overwhelms her. "Never say anything you know you'll regret saying", his voice echoes clearly in her mind and she bites her cheek, holding in her rage.

She doesn't believe her mother. She doesn't believe any of them cops and officials and she'll find a way to solve the mystery regarding the death of her father and her best friend. She will avenge them... just not right away.

V – FIVE

She's astonished when Bellamy Blake, of all people, comes to help. She's already nineteen years old and though everyone's moved on, she knows she hasn't and neither have Bellamy and Octavia.

Together, they sit down on the hardwood floor of their shared apartment located twenty miles away from New York, they work on the few evidences that they have left hoping to elucidate the whole story. They do that every saturday night and she orders Chinese takeout while one of them scatters the folders and shits of paper across the floor.

Though pre-med is the equivalent of jail and she barely has time to relax, Clarke is intent on solving the murder case which the police department has so carelessly discarded. Bellamy happens to be a wonderful advocate to rely on and she is not sure when exactly they started being such close friends – she can't really draw the line, but she doesn't care much. She's grown so accustomed to his touch and his peaceful words that she can only remember the present and it's as if she's never even hated him to begin with. Octavia is quite the solid assistant too, always ready to cook the most wonderful dishes and overall a sweet caregiver. She's not sure how she would have kept on living if these two hadn't been around and she can only be grateful when she remembers a five year-old Octavia running her way with chocolate staining her little chubby hands.

It starts to dawn on her that she hasn't seen her mother in three years, but she can't bring herself to forget and forgive. She can't forgive her mother's carelessness and lack of involvement and didn't she love her husband? Doesn't she want to know more about his death? The whole debacle following her siwteenth birthday is still fresh in her mind and she can still feel the vicious grip of her mother on her as they argued. Sometime around 10 am the day following the little private birthday celebration, her raging mother had screamed at her and almost tried to choke her.

"I'm still bugged by this whole 'shut up, the case is solved' thing." Bellamy's voice sounds loud enough for her to be jolted out of her thoughts and she lifts up her head to look at his dark brown eyes.

"Clearly, your mom knew something." Octavia whispers softly as her hands flick through the medical folder for the fourth time that night.

"She was probably trying to protect you, you know?" Bellamy sighs audibly as he shuffles closer to her.

"She choked me, Bell. She actually tried to choke me."

"But she stopped in time for you to breath and apologized." Octavia gives her a small smile.

"I know, I know. She wasn't herself but..." Clarke shakes her head as she tries to make sense of her mother's actions. "I just still feel like she had something to do with it all and – what if it's her? What if she ordered the hit?"

"You can't think like that." Bellamy says soothingly.

"Why not? I mean there must be a link between her and the company and that stupid Marcus Cane. And I'm starting to think maybe she was cheating on my dad with that slag." Clarke feels frustrated as his eyes bare into hers.

"Because, Clarke. She's your mother." Octavia's voice is hushed and gentle and Clarke feels the tears welling up in her eyes as she looks up at her friend, a sad smile barely tugging at her lips.

"I hope you're right."

VI – SIX

She's close to turning twenty when the dreaded phone call changes her life forever. Her and her friends' efforts have finally paid off and now the reopened case of the murder of her father and best friend is being thoroughly studied. She knows that she is wonderfully lucky to have a lawyer and a future private detective as her best of friends and that without them none of the mystery would have been solved, so when she picks up the phone that early morning, she calls for them as she stands by the kitchen aisle, her voice reverberating throughout their thin walled and cramped apartment.

"It's the prosecutor!" She exclaims excitedly and brings the receiver up to her ear.

"Hello." She chokes out, her heart pounding erratically inside her chest.

"Hello, Clarke." The older man on the other end of the line sounds calm and collected. "New evidence came in this morning. It all makes sense now."

She holds in a squeal and grips the phone harder against her ear.

"It seems that your father had important information to deliver to the New York Times, information pertaining to a terrible lab-experiment gone wrong at the company."

"Huh-huh." She's nodding though she knows perfectly well that the man can't see her.

She can hear him exhale through the phone, releasing a long and steady breath.

"Clarke, I'm so sorry but it seems the doctor in charge of the whole operation which caused three clients to die is in fact – well he's your mother's lover, he's the man your mother was cheating on you father with and it seems that his love for your mother was in fact, a cover up. Marcus Kane and Abigail Griffin are the main suspects. Sadly, you were right..."

VII – SEVEN

She's crying and she thinks she'll never be able to stop the tears from dropping again and again, all the way down her cheeks and to her chin. Octavia is crying too, softly and discreetly as she sits cross-legged on the hardwood floor but she doesn't seem to have enough energy to come comfort her. So it's Bellamy coming to wrap his strong arms around her, engulfing her in a warm embrace and repeating the same words over and over again.

"It's O.K. You're going to be O.K."

She normally doesn't ever try to be that affectionate with Bellamy because he's her best friend's brother and a frenemy of some sort given the amount of arguments they go through on a daily basis. But just like the day she lost her daddy and Wells, well, her facade crumbles down cruelly and she finds herself clutching his gray tee-shirt desperately, yearning for his tenderness and burying her face in his warm and comfortable neck.

Time passes by, slowly but surely healing her heart and shortening the jail sentence which her mother has to endure. She had been proven guilty as an accomplice in the murder of her husband. The poor Wells was only collateral damage, showing up at the wrong time in the wrong place and trying to stop the man from shooting his best friend's father. It was all the company's fault as they'd threatened to ruin her parents' career if they dared saying anything regarding the whole lab-experiment debacle. Her mother's lover, Kane, was an employee working alongside her parents and he was the one behind the ordered hit so he has to endure the rest of his lifetime in prison.

Clarke doesn't speak to her mother ever again and hopes that she never will but as time passes and she comes close to her twenty-first birthday, she starts to feel guilty. After all, her mother never meant for her father to die. She had been trapped and couldn't find her way back as the nightmare unfolded. Besides, no matter what happens, she will always be her mother, the one who gave her birth, the one who had to carry her nine months inside her tummy.

And Bellamy's constant advice to simply lay off of the hatred and hurt are starting to be quite effective, of course, Octavia's nagging is driving her nuts too, and so, if forgiving her mother means a little peace, then why not?

The day her mother is released from prison, they're moving in their new house; Octavia, Bellamy and her. They're like a little family, still roommates after such several years. None of them are seeing anyone, not on a regular basis that is. Clarke knows that Bellamy gets to sleep with the women from the law firm once in a while, but it's nothing serious and he doesn't look like the kind of guy who'd actually ever want a family. Octavia is the one most likely to fall in love and start a marriage and an actual family life, but this guy that she dates sometimes, Jack something? Well, he doesn't want any of it and because she likes the sex, she keeps seeing him. In all truthfulness, Clarke thinks that it's all quite pathetic and unhealthy, she has never thought that love and sex could be separated and that is partly the reason why, at age twenty-one, she's still a virgin.

She doesn't tell her mother that when she comes to the house that rainy afternoon. Why would she tell her? She's almost like a stranger now, and she hasn't seen her in such a long time that she's not sure how she's supposed to behave around her.

Still, she's trying. She's smiling and nodding as her mother passes the threshold and she hopes that things will fall back into place somehow.

VIII – EIGHT

She's trying to understand a critical passage of her yellowish medical book regarding the functioning of kittens when Bellamy's hand lands on her shoulder.

"Hey, you!" His face is glowing and his grin bears too much happiness so she furrows an eyebrow as she looks up at him from her spot on the soft couch.

"You'll never guess what came in the mail, today!" He exclaims.

She simply shrugs with a curious smile and he seats down next to her.

"I got a position at Wilmington, you know in city hall?" He's bellowing and his hands are gripping her waist forcefully because he can barely contain his joy.

"Hum – Okayy." She chuckles lightly.

"Clark!" He shakes her frantically and stands up abruptly. "If I get enough votes, I can be the mayor of our hometown!"

And then something clicks inside her head and she jumps up, her hands grasping his and together they jump ridiculously up and down, basking in the merriness of the moment because Bellamy has always dreamt of the political field and now this opportunity might just be his big break.

IX – NINE

She can't really explain it but as her relationship with her mother improves, the space between Bellamy and her widens. He doesn't spend much time in New York anymore and is in fact officially moving back to Wilmington because he has now become the youngest and best lawyer of that town. It's all quite surreal and she hasn't really had enough time to process the whole thing because she can't believe that he is about to turn twenty-eight already though he still looks so much younger.

Of course, their comfy little house is now too expensive for her and Octavia to share so they start looking for another place to live, especially when both of them are still paying back their student loans. They find a modest apartment in Long Island and decide that it's good enough because it's not too far off their workplaces and the subway station is just down the building.

They get to have another sort of routine, things are different and they're barely getting used to the void left by Bellamy's departure but they manage, latching onto each other.

Around the end of spring, Clarke gets to celebrate her twenty-third birthday but she can't believe that Bellamy of all people won't be attending. He says that he has a series of necessary meetings he absolutely needs to attend and unless he suddenly decides to leave the political scene, he simply won't be there. It sounds like bullshit to her, but she doesn't tell him that. After all, he never really lies to her.

The little private party doesn't go as planned. Though her friends and workmates are all there and even her mother is perfectly sane and joyful that night, well, she can't help but miss Bellamy and think of him ruefully.

That guy she recently met at the hospital comes strutting her way, extending his hand for her to take the cup full of wine but she barely notices, her eyes trailing up to the wall where a neat framed picture is hung. It is one of Bellamy, Octavia and her as they stand by the Hudson river, arms locked together, the three of them grinning idiotically. It takes her a little while but with a wry smile, she realizes that one of Bellamy's hands is in fact resting low on her hip and she almost laughs out loud as the sweet memories come back to her.

"Hey, happy birthday." The husky voice causes her to tear her eyes away from the picture and she stammers as she tries to remember the man's name.

"It's Finn." He reminds her with a polite smile and she nods, moving over so he can seat down next to her on the couch.

"You're one of the interns specializing in surgery, right?" She asks hesitantly and he seems happy to know that she does remember him.

"That's right." He chuckles lightly. "Raven invited me. I hope you don't mind."

She looks up and around, spotting the slender brunette standing by the window and chatting actively with Octavia, a beer in hand.

"Oh – Oh yeah. You're the boyfriend, right?" She asks with a smirk.

"Well," He starts hesitantly. "We don't know what we are yet, but I'm sure enjoying what we have."

She doesn't really know why, but ever since Bellamy left, the mere sight of loving couples makes her stomach churn and when Finn looks up fondly at his soon-to-be-girl-friend, she thinks that she needs to get drunk.

"Give me that." She cackles good-naturedly and grasps the cup he'd initially offered her, gulping down the liquid as if it were mere water.

"Woah – slow down birthday girl." He warns her playfully, a hand coming to her bare thigh.

She stiffens when she feels his fingers pat her exposed leg and whipping her head around, she glares at him.

"What?" He asks uneasily. "Did I bother you with..."

He doesn't finish his sentence and looks down at his hand instead as it slips up her dark skirt.

"I mean, Raven and I we're – we're having that open relationship thing," He explains in a hushed voice, his lips coming close to her ear as he smells her hair, "and I know she won't be bothered if you and I just – have a little fun tonight."

He dares running his fingers higher up her thigh, coming close to her underwear and she proceeds to put the empty cup down on the floor, pushing her hair behind her ears as she straightens again and turns slightly on the couch, facing the prick who calls himself Finn.

She doesn't take time to think about any of it, she doesn't warn him and she's convinced that actions speak louder than words anyways, so she simply goes for it. Her cold hand slams against his cheek and his head tilts to the left because of the impact. The slapping sound doesn't go unnoticed and all the guests stop dead in their tracks, their eyes focusing on a fuming Clark.

"Don't ever touch me." She slurs ghastly, raising up to her feet and shaking her head as she storms out of the apartment.

She doesn't come back for the night. She goes to a motel instead and slumps down on the white queen sized bed, clutching her eyes closed and holding her knees close to her chest. She knows it's somewhat presumptuous and even preposterous, her leaving the party like that given that she is the birthday girl, but she feels awful. And it's not entirely Finn's fault. Sure, he's an asshole and he should stay away from her forever, but he's not the reason why she's feeling so down and moody. She's feeling wrecked because Bellamy is not here to scare the bad guys away the way he used to back in middle school and also because no one's calling her "princess" and no other man can pull off the stubble look quite like he can and...

And with a strangled and painful sob, she realizes that no one compares to her father the way Bellamy does and she misses them. All of them, men of her lives: Daddy, Bell and Wells. And now that Bellamy's gone, she's afraid she'll never have any loving man in her life.

X – TEN

She's already twenty-five when she is faced with her very first emotional challenge. It turns out Bellamy has met that secretary in city hall and things are getting serious because she's moving in with him and they're celebrating their one-year anniversary by having a little private party.

Clarke needs to put on a brave face, she needs to be happy for her best friend and she has to try and forget that she has been single ever since she was born because she wouldn't want those horrid couples throwing their love at her face or feeling sorry for her at her best friend's little private party. No, she's better than that – so she will stay strong and act all cool and casual because Bellamy was all lovey-dovey on the phone, and he deserves to be oh-so-disgustingly-very-happy-in-love.

Dear God... Since when does she hate love and couples that much – and is she now a spinster? Like that Bridget Jones, or something? Oh, well – at least Octavia doesn't seem that happy either because as they hop out of the car and stretch their tired limbs, she looks crankier than ever before.

"What if she's a total slut?" She asks with a sigh and Clarke laughs at her grimace.

"She can't be." She says reassuringly and puts her arm around her shorter friend. "Bellamy wouldn't settle for someone like that."

Together they walk to the front porch of Bellamy's house and wait for a little while as they stand before the large mahogany door.

"I guess – here goes nothing." Octavia takes a deep breath and pushes the button for the doorbell.

"Oh by the way," Clark reminds her friend, "we still need to talk about you being weird all week."

Octavia nods and waves a hand dismissively.

"We have time for that. Right now, it's Bellamy and his girl under the spotlight."

Just as she finishes her sentence, the door swings open and a tall redhead grins at them, pulling the door further and ushering them in.

"You must be Octavia and Clarke! Enchanted to meet you!" She chirps in a thick british accent.

"Nice to meet you, Cassandra." Clarke answers for the two of them.

"How was the journey from New York?" The woman asks and Clarke notices that the red-head is in her late twenties.

"It was all right." Octavia shrugs and they all walk in the living-room, settling each on a different armchair.

"Bellamy will be here in no time." Cassandra informs them, clapping her hands joyfully. "He's just running late on a few folders down in city hall."

The two girls nod and smile politely.

"So when are the rest of the guests coming?" Clarke asks tentatively.

"Oh – oh, they should start filing in around nine." Cassandra chuckles nervously and pulls at the hem of her red satin dress, feeling slightly awkward.

Clarke looks down at her wristwatch and sighs audibly, it's only six and she doesn't feel comfortable lounging around with a woman she barely knows.

"Aren't you offering us anything? Not even, say, a cup of water?" Octavia sounds cranky still and so annoyed all of a sudden.

Cassandra fumbles around as she raises up to her feet.

"Sorry about that. I'm nervous so I tend to forget – I – I'll be right back." She stammers and rushes to the kitchen, leaving the two girls in a stark silence.

"What's up with you?" Clarke asks as soon as Cassandra disappears.

"I'm not feeling well." Octavia says simply and bends down, holding her stomach.

"Is it that time of the month?" Clarke asks with a wry chuckle.

"No and that's the thing actually." Octavia whispers worriedly. "I haven't had my period in awhile."

Clarke's eyes grow twice their size and Octavia can swear that they're about to jump out of their sockets.

"Have you tried like – a pregnancy test recently?" Clark asks and her voice sounds somewhat shaky.

"No – I couldn't bring myself to do it." Octavia answers shamefully and tears well up in her eyes as her friend stares at her, shock written all over her face.

They can't discuss the matter much because Cassandra comes back with the drinks and soon after Bellamy gets home with a bunch of his friends from the law firm and from city hall.

Clarke makes the most of the few seconds she actually spends with him, exactly when he comes running towards her and Octavia and engulfs them in a big group hug, his homy laugh reverberating throughout the cosy little house. But the sweet embrace is short-lived – certainly doesn't last long enough if you ask her.

Time passes quickly when she's chatting with Octavia but when the latter leaves claiming that she is too tired to stay the whole night, Clarke finds herself drinking as if she was an endless pit. She needs alcohol to feel less pathetic because it's only nine and already she is left to saunter awkwardly around the house and in the front yard because, clearly, none of the guests warm up to her quite well and the feeling is perfectly mutual. She's never liked the political field or the people who work in it anyway – expect for Bellamy, of course. Yeah, now that she thinks about it, he has always been and always will be that one – that very little...

Oh crap – she might have bumped into someone and splashed her drink on their white immaculate shirt and it sucks but – oh, God, why would she even care about that snobbish guest? He probably has enough money to buy another twenty designer shirts, that punk...

But it's not just the stupid guest that is starting to get on Clarke's nerves, some of the things she sees before her are starting to look quite blurry anyway and some things just look funny and, is she already drunk?

Oh, well, perhaps she'll simply walk back inside and go up to the guest room to crash on the bed and slip into unconsciousness. That way she can dream endlessly and forget about the stupid reality.

By the time she reaches the warm bed in the guest room, she knows she's definitely drunk and she's not too happy with herself. On a brighter note though, despite her intoxicated state she has managed to figure out that little thing she was thinking of earlier... about that little flicker she sees in Bellamy's sparkling eyes...

It's quite simple really, it's just that...

Bellamy sure is – He is the one, the single stupid – only exception.

XI – ELEVEN

She thinks her heart just about stops when Octavia's pregnancy test turns out to be positive. Octavia of all people, is expecting a child and she doesn't know the first thing about babies and she thinks that Jack will never want to be the father, that he will leave and never come back to visit her or the little munchkin. And it's all so overwhelming because Clarke feels that she is directly connected to that little tiny being growing in the stomach of her best friend and so she feels very much responsible.

It's no wonder that it all comes naturally when – on a late rainy night, Octavia cries listing her worries and Clarke swears solemnly that she will never leave her or her child, that she is the godmother and that she will always be there for them.

The first sonogram is a wonder. They can see the little thing's tiny head and a part of its abdomen but it's too little for them to deduce wether it's a girl or boy. Octavia doesn't mind though because she says she's convinced she'll love the little troublesome either way. Clark, in the mean time, can't help but wonder how gender will affect the whole process of raising the child into a functional and healthy human being because she's always been the cautious one, the one who always makes sure that things are all planned and fixed up. And oh – look at the irony of it all, having to take care of an unexpected little being all of a sudden and one that wasn't even growing inside her.

Bellamy can't come as often as they'd like him to because he is now planning to marry Cassandra and the wedding is supposed to happen around the end of June which happens to be the due date for the baby. Octavia tends to be crankier on her bad days and she always fails to appreciate her sister-in-law, calling her ridiculous names and complaining about her lack of ambition and about the fact that Bellamy is the sole breadwinner. In fact, Clarke comes to the conclusion that the blue-eyed brunette wishes Bellamy would never marry the british red-head, she's just too polite to ever actually say it.

Octavia's belly grows so quickly, swelling magically and it's so funny every time the baby moves or kicks with her little feet because Clarke and Octavia can see the skin vibrating and sometimes they even perceive some waves as Zara performs her usual rituals inside her mommy's belly. Clark approves of the name, she thinks that it's perfect and when Jack, the father, calls to confirm that he won't raise the kid alongside them, she thinks she might just drive all the way down to his apartment so she can punch him in the face, again, again and again.

"It's okay, Clarke. Really, I just sort of expected it anyways." Octavia tries to smile as the light sob escapes her lips. "He's still studying and doesn't even have a proper job, he would be the worst father, not to mention that he's always warned me, said that he did not want any children."

They're at the mall, trying on different dresses for Bellamy's wedding and Clarke thinks that she feels almost as lonely and heartbroken as her best friend when she sees herself in the mirror opposite, the pink bridesmaid dress suiting her perfectly.

"I understand – about Jack." Clarke says carefully and gives the pink-cladded Octavia a little hug, making sure that she's gentle enough no to crush her big belly.

"And hey! Look at me! Turning twenty-six in less than a month but still single and oh – did I mention still a virgin too ?" She's joking and her lips are stretching into a smile as she looks fondly at her pregnant friend but the merriness doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Clark." Octavia sighs audibly. "I know exactly what your problem is – you're – you're in love with Bellamy, aren't you?"

Clark gasps and puts a hand on her heart, surprised by her friend's words.

"I am not." She shakes her head frenetically and a nervous chuckle slips out of her mouth.

"Clark." Octavia chides with a grimace. "I can see the way you look at him and I know you've been keeping some of his shirts, using them as your pajamas, and sleeping with them on at night."

Clarke breathes in and out as her friend stares at her expectantly.

"He's just – just my other best friend and I miss him, that's all."

Octavia doesn't look quite convinced but she nods slowly, seemingly taking Clark's word for it or simply dropping the topic because Clark's eyes look quite teary all of a sudden.

XII – TWELVE

Something's wrong.

They're about to hop in Clark's car when Octavia lets out a wild scream. Bellamy is not there to carry her, in fact there isn't a single man in sight and Clark has to gather all of her strength to push her pregnant friend inside the vehicle. The screams are petrifying and Clarke's hands shake violently as she puts the key in the ignition, driving off and towards Wilmington's hospital.

They make it in time for the medics to carry Octavia to a stretcher, rushing her to the OR while Clarke is left behind because she's not allowed to come inside the white restricted room. Her phone dies when she tries to call Bellamy and she growls loudly, sending the device crashing down against the white concrete wall of the waiting room. The few people present look up at her in wonder and then a security agent is having her escorted out of the building. Outside she finds a pay phone and is able to dial Bellamy's number but it goes straight to voicemail.

"Damn it, Bell. Turn on your fucking phone!" She grits her teeth and reminds herself that she needs to act more collected, she is a doctor after all, she should be able to behave sensibly.

"Sorry," she apologizes after a little while. "Just call me as soon as you get this – it's Octavia, she's going into labor."

She ends the call and immediately dials her mother's phone number, knowing that she is in town too because she's attending Bellamy's wedding as well.

"Hello?" The familiar voice reaches her ears and Clarke inhales deeply.

"Mom." She whispers into the phone, a light hiccup shaking her chest.

"Clarke, honey, what's wrong?" It sounds like her mother is starting to worry and Clark feels suddenly guilty for all the years she held the death of her father against her.

"Mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She cries into the phone, tears now dropping down her cheeks.

"Clarke, what's happening?" Her mother wonders in a high-pitched voice.

"Mom, something's gone terribly wrong with Octavia going into labor, she's in the OR, I think there are some serious complications with the baby and they don't even know if she'll make it or if the baby will make it..."

"Hold on, honey!" He mother croaks out urgently on the other end of the line. "I'm coming right away."

XIII – THIRTEEN

Bellamy looks so ghastly as he paces the room. Hands digging inside his pockets and shoulders slumped as his head remains cast down.

He'd come an hour later, screaming profanities at his bride because she'd turned off his phone and because of her he'd learned about Octavia through Clarke's mother only a whole hour after the incident. And now, he is helpless, and so are all the rest of them because except for Clark and her mother, they don't know the first thing about a cesarean operation or the function of blood pressure during labor and there is virtually nothing they can do to help Octavia's situation.

"Bell, you're giving me another headache, please sit down." Clark's mother complains as she massages her temples.

Her and Clarke are sat down on the cosy couch displayed in the quaint waiting room while Cassandra remains stood by the door frame, her eyes never leaving the groom.

"I can't." Bellamy growls. "If I do, I think I'm going to explode."

Clarke sighs and rises up to her feet, padding slowly towards her friend.

"It won't last any longer, I doubt it. It's already been five hours." She says reassuringly, "the doctor will be here any minute."

Just as she finishes her sentence the surgeon walks inside the room.

"I'm sorry, mister Blake." The tall and blue cladded man nods pitifully a he looks down at them.

"We did our best but – the mother couldn't bare the blood pressure, her – her heart stopped."

To be continued...

…...

Part 2 and 3 are complete. I just need to correct a few spelling mistakes before posting them. I'll be sure to do that in the following 24 hours.

Please leave a review to let me know what you thought of this. Thank you. Bellark all the way :)