Before You Go

i hate you, but i was just kidding myself

A/N - this is angsty, unbetaed, and written at 2-3 am so i apologize in advance

Three days later, and they still haven't been able to get to Clarke. She knows their schedules too well- only leaving when they all have classes or are asleep. She left her room once while Monty was awake, but simply ignored him, scurrying to the kitchen, grabbing a box of poptarts, and barricading herself in her room again. She just thanked god it wasn't one of the others- Monty is too non-confrontational and understanding to force her to talk to him. She slammed the door shut again and sank down against it, burying her face in her hands and tossing the box of pop tarts to the side.

But then it happens.

On the fourth day of her avoiding everyone at all costs, Clarke's mother calls her again. Clarke had deleted the first voicemail without listening to it, and ignores the second as well. But this time, her mom doesn't stop. She calls again. And again. And again. On the fifth consecutive call, Clarke caves and answers.

"What?" Clarke snaps. "What do you want Abby?"

"Clarke," Abby says, sounding surprised her daughter picked up. "You- you answered."

"You weren't exactly giving me much of a fucking choice. You've got about five second till I hang up so what is it?"

"Can we do this in person? I- I don't want to tell you over the phone." Clarke scoffs at that, shaking her head.

"No, Abby, tell me now or leave me alone," Clarke demands. Abby sighs heavily, but she does what Clarke wants. Clarke goes numb, the phone falling from her hand to the bed beside her. She ignores Abby's muted voice, her ears ringing. She feels tears welling in her eyes, a shattering sensation in her chest, an ache through her entire body.

And all she can think is- I need Bellamy. Bellamy. So, ignoring the fact it's 9 at night and she's wearing day old pajamas- sleep shorts and a tanktop- and she hasn't spoken to him in almost 5 days, Clarke leaps to her feet, leaving the phone on the bed and tearing out of her room. She startles her friends, all watching some stupid rom-com outside. She ignores their shocked expressions, then their shouts for her as she grabs the keys to Raven's car and runs out of the apartment without a word.

She reaches the car before they reach her, not even caring that she's technically stealing Raven's car as she drives through the campus. Tears start to blur her vision, and she swipes them away quickly, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She just wants Bellamy. The thought of him is all that keeps her from collapsing in on herself right then and there.

The 20 minute drive is excruciatingly long, Clarke alternating from feeling blissfully numb to suddenly feeling like a freight train just crashed into her chest, stealing any breath from her lungs and forcing tears to streak down her cheeks. She doesn't know how the hell it works, but thinking of Bellamy- of how when she shows up he'll just take her in his arms and tell her it's ok and hold her and let her cry until she falls asleep in his arms, safe with the one person she loves the most. Then when she wakes up he'll make her hot chocolate and look at her with that concerned, loving look that is reserved for her and her only- it calms her, allows her to shove the tears down, to fold her grief into a neat little square and tuck it away until she can let go.

A horrible 17 minutes later, she's pulling up his driveway, jumping out of the car and running to the door, throwing it open as a broken sob tears itself from her throat, "Bellamy-" Clarke freezes, her blood running cold. The heartbroken cry catches with her breath in her throat.

Because Bellamy isn't alone. He's on the couch with a woman beside him, happily tucked into his chest as they kiss. Bellamy jerks up at Clarke's intrusion, his expression turning from annoyed, to angry, to confused, to worried, and finally... apologetic. He jumps to his feet, his confused date orienting herself as she turns, confused and annoyed at the interruption. She's beautiful, Clarke thinks dully.

"Clarke?" Bellamy is asking, his focus entirely on her now and his voice gently. "Clarke, what are you doing here?" And what is she doing here? Why has she come running to Bellamy, especially with what's happened between them lately. How could she think she could just turn up on his doorstep and everything would be alright.

"I- I don't- I- I'm sorry," Clarke stammers, before turning tail and running into the night.

-

"Clarke!" Bellamy shouts, moving to follow her. Echo stops him with a hand on his wrist, holding him there.

"Bellamy what the hell?" Echo demands, frowning deeply at the scene she just witnessed.

"I- shit- I have to go after her. Shit!"

"No, Bellamy you need to explain what the fuck is going on," Echo insists, but Bellamy is already pulling himself away, running after Clarke. She hadn't made it far, not far at all. She's collapsed to her knees in the front yard, clutching her arms around herself as she keels over, everything suddenly becoming too much as sobs wrack her body, heart-wrenching cries that cause Bellamy's chest to constrict as he runs to her, dropping to his knees in front of her and gently taking her tear-streaked face in his hands, making her look at him, more worried now than he thought was possible.

"Clarke, Clarke can you hear me? What happened, Princess, where does it hurt?" Bellamy demands, frantically scanning her for visible injuries, blood, any sign for what's wrong. But Clarke just shakes harder, leaning into him. Taking the hint, he pulls her to him, cradling her against his chest as she cries.

"H-he-" Clarke starts, hiccuping through her sobs. Bellamy's heart drops. If Finn hurt her he swears to god- "He's dead." Wait, what?

"Who, Princess? What are you talking about?"

"Jake," she cries brokenly. "My dad he- he- he's gone." And oh. Shit. Bellamy tightens his arms around the sobbing girl, every cry like a stab to the heart.

"Come on Princess, we need to get you inside," Bellamy murmurs because really, what else can he do? She just shakes, hysteria taking over as she lets go, safe in Bellamy's arms. So Bellamy scoops her up, carries her past a shell-shocked Echo and into the house. He goes straight to the couch, sitting down still holding Clarke, who's clutching his shirt desperately, face buried in his chest. She's having an attack. She's hysteric. And there's genuinely nothing Bellamy can do to help her.

Echo walks back in, confused and concerned beyond belief because what the hell?! Bellamy doesn't even notice her, petting the blonde girl's head and whispering to her as he holds her, gently rocking them.

"Bellamy what-" Echo starts, but she's cut off instantly.

"Call Murphy and tell him to get the fuck over here right now, tell him it's Clarke."

"Wh-what-"

"Call Murphy and leave Echo, I'm sorry," Bellamy snaps, never looking up from the girl- Clarke- in his arms. Echo's never heard him so serious, so forceful, so with a quick nod, she grabs her phone and jacket and, with a final glance at the pair, leaves, already pulling up Murphy's number.