Before You Go

make it all stop hurting

A/N - now let the lake shenanigans begin and enjoy a surprise twist with an adorable flashback, if i do say so myself.

After that night, Bellamy's job got easier. He only got into a couple more fights (all of them extremely justified, he assured her) and learned to deal with drunken idiots better. Clarke still worried, but not nearly as much as she knows he worried about her.

Despite his shitty situation, Bellamy did great for himself. He graduated highschool, still has a steady job at the bar, and raised Clarke and Octavia better than either of their mothers could. Clarke is positive that the Blakes saved her life by taking her in.

"Earth to Clarke!" Finn's voice snaps her out of her memory and she realizes she's still watching Bellamy and Octavia splash each other. Finn's looking at her with a funny expression on his face, his brow furrowed. "Hey, you ok?"

"Hmm? No, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I just didn't get a ton of sleep last night," Clarke explains with an easy grin. Finn still frowns a little but accepts her answer, wrapping his arms around her waist. She smiles and leans up to kiss him, but then he's heaving them both backwards, crashing into the water. Clarke sputters as she resurfaces, laughing and splashing him as he comes up too. She's about to launch herself at him when, out of seemingly nowhere, Jonty beats her to it, Jasper on Monty's shoulders as they topple onto him, screaming "CHICKEN FIGHT!" Clarke laughs, rolling her eyes. She's friends with a bunch of children. Then Bellamy's voice is at her ear,

"What do you say, Princess? Wanna show them how you really chicken fight?" She turns around and his eyes are sparkling mischievously, all signs of worry gone from his face.

"They're not gonna know what hit them," she answers and he dunks under the water so she can climb onto his shoulder, shouting as they charge a very scared Jonty.

-

A 20-minute drive away, Abby Griffin stares at her phone, lost in thought as she worries her bottom lip. The man next to her squeezes her hand reassuringly and she smiles up at him before turning back to her phone. Clarke's number stares back at her. At least, the most recent number Abby has for her. It's from a little over a year ago, and as of seven months ago it was still her current one. Clarke and Abby haven't been in regular contact in over three years, though. Abby knows she lost Clarke long before that, though. She can pinpoint the precise moment she knew her daughter was no longer hers.

It was a Saturday night, one of the rare ones Clarke was actually home. But she had spent the last five nights at the Blake's and Abby had wanted her home, wanted to feel like she was still a little bit in Clarke's life. She was only 9, after all! And that was too young to spend six nights in a row at a friend's house. That rule would change for Abby after tonight, though.

It was 11:30 at night and Abby was downstairs, nursing a glass of wine as she watched the news when she heard Clarke's cries. She had ignored the first couple, figuring everything was alright, but then after about a minute of constant crying, Abby had set down the glass and made her way upstairs. She had found Clarke writhing in bed, clutching her stomach. Abby had run to her side, pushing back her hair and quickly checking for fever before Clarke squirmed away.

"Clarke, sweetie, what's wrong?" Abby asked. Clarke just shook her head and Abby repeated the question, her voice firmer this time.

"It's my tummy!" the little girl had cried, her eyes squeezed shut tight. Abby's mind flashed back to earlier, when Clarke had been complaining about a stomachache. Abby had sighed in relief, leaning back on her heels.

"Clarke, sweetie, we have to go to the doctor. He'll make it better, ok?"

"Do't wanna!" Clarke had complained, still crying.