Chapter Text
1. “Shhhh!” Jasper clapped his hand over Monty’s mouth as he froze in place.
Resisting the urge to bite his friend, Monty gave a long-suffering sigh, and said something that sounded like, “Whut id i’?”
The taller boy jerked his head sharply to the right and retracted his hand. Look.
Monty peered around him. At a table in the far corner of the library were Bellamy and Clarke. Bellamy was standing over Clarke, pointing something out on the paper in front of her. She seemed to be distracted by the book he held in his left hand (Martial: Selected Epigrams?). After a second, he plucked her pencil away and began to erase whatever she had written, giving a strand of her hair a sharp tug when he had finished.
That got Clarke’s attention alright. Finally, she looked away from the book, to him and then the paper. Irritated, she took her pencil back, scribbled something down, and looked back at him questioningly.
Bellamy leaned over to rest his hands on the table on either side of her. After a moment, he looked back at her, nodded, and said something Monty couldn’t make out but that earned him a quick elbow to the ribs. He started to stand up, shaking his head, but before he could get far, Clarke had snaked her arm up around his neck and pulled him back down, planting a solid kiss on his cheek. He yanked out of her grip, grinning, before rebounding back in to return the favor.
“Jesus fuck,” Jasper breathed next to him, pulling Monty’s attention away from the couple. “Why?” he demanded, gesturing violently at their friends. “And how?? They are literally killing me.”
At this point, Monty knew better than to try to talk to him. He just patted his back soothingly and said, “Shhh. It’s okay.” Jasper made a vaguely puppy-whining sound, but Monty just led him away.
2. It was a cold and rainy night, and no one could agree on a movie, so Octavia had ended up shouting at everyone to shut up before stomping off into her room. Before anyone could say anything else, she reemerged with a deck of cards and a carousel of heavy poker chips.
“Alright, this is what we’re gonna do,” she commanded. “Texas Hold ‘Em. Sudden death. Winner chooses the movie.”
Everyone seemed more or less agreeable, although a few people chose to sit out. Neither Clarke, Lincoln, or Bellamy really had any strong opinion on movie selection, so they all sat back and let the rest of the group duke it out.
The rounds were grueling, with the angry slap of cards on the coffee table and plink of chips being hurled into the pot. To everyone’s amusement, Octavia was the first to be eliminated, though she was shortly followed by Finn and then Wick, who had become a fixture at movie nights since he and Raven had officially started dating.
It was down to Raven, Jasper, Monty, and Miller. Their votes were The Evil Dead, The Great Gatsby, Big Fish, and Wall-E, respectively, and they were each determined to have their own way. Eventually, a groan rose up as Jasper flung his cards onto the table.
“I fold,” he groused. “I’m sorry I failed you, Leo.” Still frowning pathetically, he scooched over to the couch where Clarke was curled up with her feet tucked predictably under Bellamy. “Mooooom,” Jasper moaned, leaning his head back against her legs. “I lost.”
Clarke made a sympathetic sound, reaching down to scritch at his head with her nails. “Sorry, Jas,” she cooed as he stretched like a cat under her hand. She had long since given up trying to get him to stop calling her “Mom”; at this point, all she could do was go with it, while trying not to enable it too much.
“It’s okay, buddy,” Bellamy played along in his best dad voice— which was surprisingly good for a guy who had never had one. “You’ll get em next time.”
Clarke hadn’t thought it possible for Jasper to look any more content than he did before, but at that, he practically glowed. She shot Bellamy a look that said Do not encourage him, but Jasper looked so pleased that she couldn’t really bring herself to mean it.
3. To no one’s surprise, Clarke and Bellamy broke up. It happened on a Tuesday, when Bellamy was idly flipping through Clarke’s mail and found a large envelope. Then another. The crests on the upper left hand corner made his stomach drop.
“What the hell is this?” he asked, quietly, which was far worse than if he had yelled.
Clarke pursed her lips. This was not the way to have this conversation. In fact, she hadn’t planned on having it at all. “Some med schools I applied to. I had forgotten about them, but I guess they remembered me.”
Bellamy’s eyes were cold. “And judging by the size of these, it looks like they liked you. So,” his tone went falsely conversational as he re-examined the return addresses, “where do you think you’ll go? New York? Or Boston?”
“Those aren’t the only places I applied,” she shrugged, but her eyes were begging him to understand. “My mom wanted me to at least try for those. I didn’t think I’d get in.”
“Yeah, well, you did,” he bit out. “And it’s not like you can turn these down and stay here. There’s no way.” Dropping the letters as if they had stung him, he shook his head and made for the door.
“Bellamy, come on,” Clarke sighed. “Be reasonable. I had to at least see what my options were.”
He nodded, mouth twisted into a grimace. “Maybe you should check out all of your options, then. Because let’s not kid ourselves here, Clarke.” He looked at himself, then at her, then at the door. Bellamy didn’t elaborate, but she knew, with heartbreaking certainty, what he meant. But she wasn’t the type to chase after a guy, and Bellamy didn’t want to be chased after. So she let him go.
They made it until Sunday without speaking. They probably could’ve gone longer, but when they both skipped out on movie night, their friends figured out what had happened and decided that it was unacceptable. So, stubborn as they both were, they could’ve gone ages without talking…had Jasper and Raven not locked them into Clarke’s room.
“Seriously, guys?” Clarke called through the door.
“Are you fucking kidding?” Bellamy joined her.
No sound came from the hallway. Resigned, Clarke flopped onto her bed. “Whatever. They’ll let us out eventually, and I have homework to do.”
Bellamy pivoted to stare at her. “Are you seriously not going to talk to me? That’s obviously what they want, so we might as well just—’
“No,” she glared right back. “Hell no. You walked out on me, Bellamy. If you wanted to hear what I had to say, you would’ve stayed. Or, at least called. Something…” Suddenly, she sounded a lot less pissed off and a lot more upset. Clarke just shook her head and looked at her hands.
Wordlessly, he sat down next to her. Far enough away to not trigger that sadness-fuelled rage of hers, but close enough so that she could probably punch him in the arm if she wanted to. Which she might. “Look,” he began, not sure how to explain without everything sounding…exactly as pathetic as it was. “I’m sorry I freaked out. It was a knee-jerk reaction, and I’m sorry I left. I just didn’t know what to say.”
Incredulous, she rounded on him. “Except the part where you said I should consider ‘all my options’. You wanna tell me you didn’t mean that the way I thought you did?”
He shook his head, finally meeting her eyes. “No. I meant it. But not for the reasons you thought.” At her blank, expectant stare, he went on. “Not— not because I wanted you to.”
“Then why the fuck would you say something like that?” she exploded. “It was completely unfair, and I hate it, but if that’s the way you want it to be, then…”
“It’s not,” he cut her off. “It’s not. But you’ve gotta understand, Clarke. You got accepted to these amazing schools. And sure the med school here is good too, but…it’s not them. And I’m not,” Bellamy took a deep breath, shaking his head, “them. I’m not like that.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, quiet now.
He scowled and flexed his fingers, staring down again. “You know what I mean. I’m gonna be a fucking classicist. When I’m not researching and publishing books that no one will read, I’ll be teaching classes that no one cares about. As much as I love it all, I’m not gonna…be anybody. I’m not gonna make any money or do anything impressive. Ever. And there are guys out there that— that will.” He looked up at her helplessly. “I want that for you. And I don’t want you to resent me from keeping you from it. So even if I hate it, I can’t ask you to stay. Here, or with me.”
He had barely gotten the last word out before Clarke turned toward him, whip-quick, and grabbed his shoulders. Her hands were small, but her fingers were rock hard, digging into his skin. In some sick, desperate way, it felt good, because at least she was holding onto him, keeping him around for another second. Her eyes were as hard as her hands, and a muscle fluttered up by her temple as she practically growled at him. “You fucking idiot.”
And faster than he could keep up with, she dragged him forward and locked her arms around his neck. “You fucking idiot,” she breathed in his ear, but this time her voice was broken, and she gasped out a tiny laugh. “Oh my God, you are the most—”
Bellamy didn’t even care what horrible insults she was whispering to him. He just banded his arms around her waist as tightly as he could without hurting her. His breath was coming fast and deep, and he wasn’t sure what was happening.
Clarke pulled away, but only the few inches that her arms allowed. “You are wrong about,” she shook her head wonderingly, “literally everything. I’m staying here. I was always staying here, even before you.” She felt him let out a long breath, then another, his ribs contracting beneath her own. “I just needed to know. And as far as you’re concerned…I don’t give a damn about you ‘being anyone’. I was always staying with you. Even if, by some freak chance, I ended up in New York or Boston, I was always. Staying. With you.”
His eyes never left hers, only fluttered closed as he leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. Oh God… He thought he might’ve heard her sniffle a little, but he didn’t get a chance to ask.
Because at that exact moment, the door to Clarke’s room slammed open, and in flew Jasper. Clarke had time to look up for about a second before he launched himself at them, tackling them backward onto her bed.
“Oh my God, you guys,” he cried. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again! Oh, you had me so worried…”
Bellamy and Clarke peeked at each other over the top of Jasper’s head. Maybe, any other time, they would’ve thrown him off. But at the moment, they were both so wrung out, it was all they could do to smile at each other and accept his unreasonably long hug with good humor, and maybe a little gratitude.
+1. “Alright kids, look right into the camera and say ‘cheese’! Now one by the fireplace…” Jasper shuffled around the exasperated Clarke and Bellamy, looking for all the world like a parent before prom.
“Jesus, Jasper,” Bellamy ground out, “we’re gonna be late. You can get pictures after the ceremony.”
Jasper shook his head decisively. “Nope, you’ll be all rumpled by then, and tired. One more.”
As the flash went off, Clarke lurched forward and snatched the camera away. “Enough. It’s time to go.”
With all the dolorous patience of a martyr, Jasper slunk off to get his keys. Meanwhile, Clarke brushed a speck of lint off the skirt of her dress and straightened out the knot in Bellamy’s tie.
“You nervous?” she grinned up at him.
“It’s just a wedding,” he replied unconvincingly. “Everything’ll be fine. We’ll all do what we’re supposed to do, and then afterwards…married.” His eyes were starting to get that wide, faraway, vaguely terrified look to them, so Clarke gave his tie a little tug.
Still smiling, she said, “Yeah, I’ve heard it happens that way. Don’t worry. All you have to do is walk straight ahead. And I’ll be there too, in the front, in a very silly dress. You say your part, and you’re done. And if you’re still freaked out afterwards, there’ll always be alcohol.”
Bellamy nodded, setting his shoulders. This would be fine. Definitely. All he had to say was, “I do.” In his mind, he knew that he was incredibly happy and excited and proud; but at the same time, he couldn’t shake the nerves. There was a touch of sadness there too, but he tried to brush it off, if not for his own sake, then for the bride’s.
“Come on, lovebirds,” whistled Jasper, keys in hand. “To the chapel!”
It hadn’t actually happened in a chapel, but rather in an alcove of the city garden in the middle of town. And just like Clarke had promised, the wedding went off without a hitch. At the reception, Bellamy finally breathed easy when he sat down at the long front table, secure in the knowledge that all of the important stuff was out of the way. He had walked down the aisle, and when the priest asked who gave his sister to be married, he had said, “I do,” without his voice cracking. And if he had cried just a little after that, then no one knew about it but him. Well, him and Clarke, who had been watching him from her position just behind Octavia and smiling encouragingly. All that was left was the dancing, and with a few drinks in him, he was sure he could manage.
As the night wound down, Octavia and Lincoln said their goodbyes and allowed themselves to be hustled away down a human corridor into the car that would take them to the airport. Once they were gone, Bellamy really had nothing left to do but to sway idly on the dancefloor, looking down at Clarke and ignoring the rest of the room. Not too bad…
They should have known that Jasper would find them, but they were still blinded by the flash of his camera as he snapped yet another picture of them. Before either of them could speak, he crooned, “You’re next…” And then, flash, another picture.
Cackling, he pulled up the photo on the display and turned the camera around. Clarke and Bellamy, against their better judgement, leaned in to see what reactions Jasper had captured forever.
In the picture, Clarke had her head cocked to one side, with a fond but tired smile and one eyebrow raised, as if to say, “Really, Jasper?” Bellamy, one arm still wrapped around his dance partner’s waist, just looked…smug. Like the cat that ate the canary. Or, more accurately, like the cat that had a little box tucked away in his sock drawer at home, that he was holding on to until just the right time.
Bellamy’s smirk never faded, and when Jasper turned the camera around and looked at the picture again, he finally understood. His eyes went round and huge for a single second before he turned on a dime and all but ran away.
“What was that about?” Clarke asked, a little sleepily.
“Nothing,” Bellamy laughed lowly, softly. “Just Jasper being Jasper.”
Clarke hummed and nodded, as if that explained it, because usually, it did.
Meanwhile, Jasper strode across the room at top speed and snatched Monty up by the elbow.
“What are you doing?” Monty groaned, allowing his best friend to drag him toward the back door.
Panting slightly, Jasper looked back with a wild spark in his eye. “I have to tell you something. Well,” he considered, “I have to scream at the top of my lungs, but then I have to tell you something.”