Chapter Text
Once upon a time, Clarke Griffin believed in true love. If you were to ask her now if love existed she’d laugh in your face and it would be an honest to god laugh. The universe had put her through too much shit for her to have even a sliver of hope that she wasn’t destined for anything but disappointment. She could sit and dwell on the what if’s: what if her parents had never gotten a divorce, what if Finn never cheated on her, most importantly: what if she never met Lexa? It’d be easy to get caught up in how contrasted things would be to what her life was now, but that train of thought didn’t do her any good. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t wish things were different, but this was her reality and she had to accept that.
It wasn’t like she didn’t have a good life; she did. As she walked to work she thought about how much she loved her bartending job, and her boss, Anya. She couldn’t imagine her life without her friends Monty, Harper, Jasper, Miller, Emori, and Murphy (though she would never admit it to his face). Her sex life was great, well it was until Niylah had called it quits.
Her sexual frustrations would have to be put on hold for the time being as she walked into work. While the bar wasn’t open yet she found the lack of noise concerning. Usually, Anya had rock music blaring through the speakers by the time Clarke came in, her feeble attempt to put herself in a good mood before the inevitable hipster college kids took control of the jukebox to play their whiny indie music.
Clarke walked behind the bar and began preparing for the busy Friday night ahead. She noticed Murphy was seated at his usual stool next to his girlfriend Emori with a smug smile on his face. They made quite the pair. When Clarke first met John Murphy he was a colossal pain in her ass and she made sure he knew it. It wasn’t until Murphy introduced her to his girlfriend, that Clarke realized they were actually friends. Eventually, her friendship extended to Emori and they became closer than Murphy was admittedly happy about.
She narrowed her eyes at him and said, “Why do I get the sense I should call the fire department and have them on standby?”.
“Ignore him, I think he’s just happy because he got his friend a job here which doubles his chances of getting free drinks when you’re not around,” Emori answered.
“I wasn’t aware he had friends,” Clarke scoffed.
That got Murphy’s attention. “I thought we were friends Griffin?” he prodded with mock hurt.
Clarke had finished behind the bar and walked around to the tables to start taking down the chairs. “I’m convinced your presence in my life is some sort of karmic punishment for the wrongs I’ve done in one of my past lives.”
“It must have been something truly terrible if he’s your punishment,” an unfamiliar voice said.
Clarke hadn’t noticed the two new additions to the room in the midst of her banter with Murphy. Her task of setting up the chairs now forgotten she couldn’t help but stare at the beautiful man before her. He was a walking Greek god if she ever saw one. His dark and curly hair was begging to be tangled around her fingers, the freckles that scattered his cheeks were a galaxy all their own, and his lips were perfectly plump, hidden momentarily by the swipe of his tongue along his lower lip…Oh, the things that tongue could do to her. She wondered how long it would be before she could no longer resist the urge to paint him or how many times it would take to get his features just right. The handsome stranger had begun to take over setting up the chairs, leaving Clarke in awe of the way his arm muscles flexed–no, she couldn’t. She shook her head slightly trying to regain her composure, thankful that everyone else was too caught up in their own world to notice the way her eyes lingered on him as she made her way over to Anya.
In true Anya fashion, she had gotten to work setting up the registers, not noticing the awkward silence that had taken over the room. Clarke had leaned in close and muttered, “Who’s that?”
Anya glanced over her shoulder, “That’s Bellamy, my new hire.” She wasn’t one to beat around the bush.
“And you’re having him start tonight? You do realize tonight is our busiest night of the week right?” Clarke asked as she folded her arms across her chest.
Clarke received an unimpressed glance from Anya. “You’re right, it is the busiest night of the week, which is why I hired him. It’s my anniversary with Raven and I’m taking her out to dinner so you’ll need the extra hands,” she said, ending the conversation by closing the register drawer and walking away to her office.
Most of the time she loved her taciturn demeanor, idolized it almost, but this, however, was a time in which she wished Anya would just indulge her for five minutes and reassure her that this Bellamy guy was someone she could count on.
She turned around and noticed Murphy had the same smug smile on his face from earlier. “I don’t know what you’re smiling about, your drinking privileges are entirely dependent on how well he does tonight,” she said.
Walking away, she heard Murphy shout what she assumed was supposed to be a pep talk at Bellamy from across the room but ended up sounding more like a demand to not make him look like a jackass which got a light chuckle out of Clarke as she finished up her opening duties.
The night wore on smoother than Clarke expected. She and Bellamy had danced around each other all night as if they had been working together for years, and Clarke would be lying if she said she didn’t think about how well they might move together in her bedroom any time their shoulders or hands would graze each other at various points throughout the night. He effortlessly stepped in when a customer had gotten upset that he was being cut off which she was grateful for, and that caused her stomach to knot up with guilt for being reluctant to him earlier with Anya. She returned the favor later on in the night when a customer had ordered a bar special that he had no idea how to make.
“What’s a Rum Blazer?” he asked confused.
She couldn’t help but smile as she listed off the ingredients for him.
“That sounds disgusting,” he retorted as he left to go grab the last ingredient.
She watched him walk away and laughed before going back to making drink orders because, yeah, it was really disgusting.
Clarke assured Murphy his drinking privileges were still intact as she walked him to the front door to lock up behind him. She tugged on the chain of the neon ‘open’ sign to turn it off before she exhaled what was probably the world’s longest sigh.
While Bellamy silently finished up wiping down the tables, Clarke finished balancing the register and placed the money they had made throughout the night into a bag for Anya to sort through later. After she split their tips, she poured two glasses from the Four Roses whiskey bottle she had stashed behind the register. Clarke placed a whiskey glass on top of his share of the tips as he walked up to the bar.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Clarke placed her hands on the bar, thankful that cleaning it off was the first thing she had done after they closed. “It’s your share of the tips and a celebratory drink because you made it through the night,” she said as she held up her glass waiting for him to cheers with her.
There was a soft clink of glasses before she tipped hers back, not wincing once as she felt the familiar burn of the alcohol glide down the back of her throat. She thought Bellamy might question if this was a regular occurrence or if it was something special she was doing just for him, but she was glad he didn’t because she didn’t know how she would answer.
“So how do you know Murphy?” she questioned as they worked together to put the chairs on top of the tables. Anything to distract her from the way his arms would flex as he lifted a chair or thinking about what they might feel like wrapped around her.
“Let's chalk it up to us being high school friends,” he replied dismissively.
Clake was the type of person that could get anyone to tell her every little secret they had and then when the conversation was over you would suddenly realize you didn’t know a single thing about her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want people to know her, it was just that ninety-eight percent of the time she was convinced anything she shared about her life would be thrown back in her face later on or she might be perceived as dramatic or worse no one would care.
Anyone who knew her knew she wasn’t one to let things go, and this was no different. “Sounds like there’s a lot more to the story than just being old high school friends,” she said hoping to coax it out of him, but he wouldn’t budge. “Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
Bellamy let a huff of reluctance escape his lips, maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the way she tilted her head and smiled at him but, the words suddenly just spilled out and he was helpless to stop them.
“I basically raised my sister growing up, we have different dads and neither of them was really around, our mom was working a lot so it was always just me and Octavia. For a long time, we were really close but eventually, she became a teenager and decided she didn’t need me anymore. One day Murphy invited me to this party and because Octavia didn’t want me to take care of her anymore I said yes. Anyway, the cops got called and Murphy had my back, I mean I was literally in handcuffs, ever since then, we’ve just always been there for each other. I was cashing in on a favor he owed me with this job.”
Captivated by every word of his her stomach lurched the second he stopped speaking. Granted it wasn’t much of a cliffhanger but her eyebrows shot up expectedly, urging him to finish the thought all the same.
“But that’s a story for another time,” he said as a playful smile formed and he placed the last chair on the table.
There was such an air of mystery about him and she couldn’t help wanting to know more. It had everything to do with her need to be in control and have the upper hand, the fact that she found him incredibly beautiful had absolutely nothing to do with it.
A broom was placed in his hand and they swept the floor together in comfortable silence. “So how do you know Murphy?”
“That story is not nearly as exciting as almost getting arrested together,” she said letting a laugh escape. Somehow she had answered his question without really answering his question, but before he had the opportunity to ponder it or press her for further details her voice rang out, “Let’s get out of here,” nodding her head towards the door.
She pulled down the door gate and locked it into place before giving Bellamy a curt wave goodbye and turning to walk in the direction of her apartment.
After a second she felt a hand catch her elbow and instinctively she reached for her pepper spray after all this was New York, it wouldn’t be the first time some creep had tried to sneak up on her. Before she could put it to use Bellamy’s gravelly voice eased the tension in her body in a way she didn’t expect.
“Not that you couldn’t take care of yourself, obviously,” he said gesturing to the pepper spray in her hand, “but I’d be able to sleep better if you let me walk you home, just to make sure.”
Somehow his admission didn’t surprise her, after all, he hadn’t hesitated to step in when things escalated between her and a customer and so, of course, he would be the type to walk with her to make sure she got home safe.
“Sure,” she said, doing her best to suppress the laugh the threatened to pass her lips.
She wasn’t going to tell him that she got by just fine walking home by herself nearly every night because she knew that it’d probably be the ammunition he needed to take it upon himself to walk her home every night from here on out, never mind the fact that they were practically strangers.
As they made their way to her apartment they filled the silence with typical small talk, of course mostly led by Clarke. He told her about how he had moved to New York only a few months ago to be closer to his sister after finding out she was pregnant. He told her the story of how he had put himself through college and only planned on working at the bar part-time when he wasn’t substitute teaching, just until he was offered a full-time teaching gig. She tried to ignore the devil on her shoulder telling her this was all just some ruse to gain her trust as if there was some larger diabolical plan at play here. Logically she knew that wasn’t true, that it was just the years of manipulation talking.
In just under 20 minutes they had made it from the bar to the stoop outside her apartment. She could sense his nervousness in the space between them, could see it in the way he rubbed the back of his neck and shifted on his feet.
“So at the risk of sounding lame, uh, I don’t have many friends and I would feel a lot better if Murphy wasn’t my only friend here… So would you maybe want to hang out sometime?”
She could have said no, should have said no. She already had enough people in her life and letting one more person in was tempting fate, challenging it even. If she let him in she would essentially be tossing a middle finger up to the universe and saying ‘Take him from me, I dare you.’
“I’ll tell you what, a few of us get together for this game night at my place on Sunday’s. Murphy cooks dinner for all of us and our friend Jasper usually brings some pot brownies, though if you aren’t into that you can just bring your own booze. It starts at 7,” she said against her better judgment before waving goodbye and heading inside, not giving herself time to take the invitation back like the little voice in her head was screaming at her to.
Once she was inside her apartment she tried her best to slow her breathing down. She had done her best to keep her memories at bay when Bellamy had asked to walk her home, but she couldn’t help but be reminded of her first night with Lexa.
“Mind if I walk you home, Clarke?”
Clarke smiled as she took Lexa’s hand in hers “I thought you’d never ask,”
“No!” Clarke shouted. She hadn’t meant for that to come out loud but she was alone in her apartment so she supposed it didn’t matter really. She made her way to the shower to attempt to wash off the once thin coat of grime from the bar that she felt coat her skin but was now thickened by her memories of Lexa.
“Come on Clarke, we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up!” Lexa said as she swung open the bathroom door
Lexa never actually spent any time in Clarke’s apartment. They were always over at Lexa’s before eventually finding a place that was theirs, yet somehow remnants of Lexa still lingered. Clarke wondered if she would ever be able to escape short of packing up everything she owns and moving. She didn’t want to give Lexa that kind of power, she already had too much.
“You know we’d save a lot of time if you would just join me,” Clarke replied cheekily.
Suddenly the shower curtain was pulled open and her eyes met Lexa’s. “You read my mind,” she said as she stepped in. Their lips met and Clarke found it hard to contain her giggles. With their lips still locked she maneuvered them so that Lexa was now under the stream of water.
She slammed her eyes shut in a feeble attempt to clear the memory. Of course, as more images of them kissing and smiling flashed in her mind she knew it was hopeless. The steady stream of water disguised her tears as she stood there unable to do anything that would make this less of a breakdown and more of a shower. She turned the handle to stop the once-hot but now cold stream. A real shower would have to wait till morning.
As if on autopilot, Clarke had made her way over to her dresser, but instead of reaching for pajamas like she probably should have, she reached for her painting clothes. She slid them on and made her way to the second bedroom that she had converted into her workspace. She wasn’t paying any real attention to the image forming in front of her, just knowing that it was something to keep her from going down memory lane. As time went on the image became clear, it was her favorite bench in Central Park. The same one she spent so many Saturday mornings at with her dad after their weekly breakfast date. Her breathing had finally evened out as she stepped back from the canvas and spared a glance at the clock on the wall. She decided that while she may not be able to get a good night’s sleep she’d at least be able to get a few hours before she would have to meet her dad at their usual breakfast spot.
Five hours after her head hit the pillow her alarm was pulling her out of restless sleep. She crawled out of bed and made her way to the kitchen to start her coffee maker before attempting to take a shower more productive than the one last night. Her exhaustion tugged at her muscles with every step she took.
After she had finished getting ready she placed her empty coffee mug in the sink and decided to take a quick glance at the painting from last night (earlier this morning technically). It wasn’t something she would sell, she couldn’t, it held too much sentimental value. Her dad’s birthday was only a few months away and she decided it would make the perfect gift. If it wasn’t for her dad she wouldn’t even be an artist. He had always supported her love of art and what better way to thank him than to give him a painting of their favorite spot. All that was left to do was to get it framed.
She walked to the cafe faster than her usual pace to try and make up for the train delay, but even then she was still 5 minutes late. Her dad wasn’t much of a stickler for punctuality, at least not as much as her mom was, but she hated missing even a minute of spending time with him. He was always so busy with work that these weekly breakfasts were all she really had and she wanted to cherish them as much as possible.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, there was a delay with the–” she said breathlessly.
She knew he wasn’t mad by the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. “Don’t worry about it, it’s okay. You’re here now and that’s what matters,”
She hugged her dad a little tighter than she intended before she sat down and caught her breath. “So tell me, what’s new with work?”
While she only understood about half of the things her dad talked about, she pretended to follow along just to see the smile on his face. In between bites of food, she would ask him questions about things she didn’t understand just to see him happy for a little bit longer.
They had finished breakfast and made it to their favorite bench to watch people mill about. “So how are things with you, kiddo?” he asked as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“Oh you know same old same old,” she waved her hand dismissively.
“You’re young and you live in the city that never sleeps, I’m sure you’ve got something exciting to share,” he prodded.
Her first instinct was always to deflect, keep people from getting close enough to take something from her she could never get back, but then her dad flashed a smile at her and any worries she had washed away. The only person able to get her to open up was her dad; he had such a warm manner about him that Clarke envied. As much as she hated to admit it, she always thought of herself more like her mother, cold and closed off. She wasn’t sure if she had always been that way or if it was just a result of her time with Lexa.
“Well, Anya hired someone new. I worked with him last night and he didn’t do too bad, It seemed like he had some experience so things should go well with that I think,” she said as she leaned into him. “He said he doesn’t really have friends, except for Murphy, so I invited him to game night tomorrow.”
She felt her dad smile as he rested his cheek on top of her head. “Well if Murphy is his only friend you definitely did the right thing by inviting him to game night, the fewer people Murphy influences the better,” he joked.
In all honesty, her dad loved Murphy, loved all of her friends really. In the month following her break up with Lexa, Murphy refused to leave her alone for fear she might do something stupid like take her back, so he invited himself to breakfasts with her dad and the two had formed some strange bond that Clarke was sure she’d probably never understand.
A sudden chime of her phone notified her that she received a text. She snorted when she pulled it out of her pocket and saw who it was. “Speak of the devil,” she quipped as she tilted her phone screen towards her dad. Texts began to flood in as he went on a rant about his coworker and demanded they blow off some steam at the batting cages. “Well, I guess duty calls."
As much as she hated to, she eventually had to hug her dad goodbye but not before making their pinky promise to see each other at the same time and place next week “Clarke, you’re a great friend, I love that you have such a big heart and want to take care of other people and be there for them but remember to take care of yourself too, okay?” He untangled their pinkies and gave her one last tight hug before they parted ways.
When Clarke arrived at the batting cages she noticed Murphy leaning against the fence, typing away furiously and for a moment Clarke felt sorry for whoever was on the receiving end of that text.
She gently kicked in the back of his leg causing his knee to give out. “Hey,” she said with a smile, “not that I don’t want to spend time with you, but isn’t Emori the one you usually call for these sports endeavors? We both know I’m not exactly coordinated,”
They walked over to the cashier to pay for their hour. “She’s out with her cousin Echo, something about a fashion emergency. I don’t know, I kind of tuned her out after she started talking about blouses, besides I think watching you fail to hit a ball for the next hour might actually cheer me up,” he said with a playful smirk.
Clarke gave Murphy a shove before they made their way over to the batting cage. Murphy stepped in first, easily connecting the bat with the ball.
“So Niylah called it quits,” she said matter of fact.
“What’d you do to scare her away?” he inquired as he hit what probably would have been a home run if they were in a real field.
She scoffed and childishly stuck her tongue out at him even though his back was turned to her. “Very funny, but no,” she said flatly. “She just wanted something more serious and I couldn’t give that to her.” She took the bat from his hands as he stepped out of the cage. “She said she still wanted to be friends, which I assume means she’s still coming to game night tomorrow… Oh, hey, I invited your friend Bellamy to game night. He said something about you being his only friend so I took pity on him and told him he could come.”
Murphy raised an eyebrow. “You sure that’s the only time you’ll be telling him to come?” There was salacious quality to his tone.
“You’re profane, you know that?” she rolled her eyes. She placed the helmet on her head and stepped into the cage.
With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he retorted, “I think you mean profound,”
Surprisingly, she was able to hit 3 balls which Murphy had equated to her frustration over Niylah dumping her. “She didn’t dump me, we were never together,” she shot back.
He opened the batting cage and took the bat from her grip. “Doesn’t the hooking up get old? Don’t get me wrong, I'm all for you having fun because you need it more than any of us but, don’t you ever think you might want something more?” He sighed.
Clarke pulled the helmet off her head and pushed some of the hair that had fallen out of her bun behind her ear. “It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s that I can’t have it.” She shrugged
“Oh that’s bullshit Clarke and you know it,” he said exasperated.
Maybe he was right, but maybe’s were also a form of hope and hope either breeds eternal misery or it kills you. She had her fair share of misery, enough to last a lifetime. She didn’t need to invite any more of it into her life. Part of her felt bad, she could tell he wanted so badly to change her mind and make her believe that things could be different for her, but she had years of evidence that said otherwise. Of course, he knew all this, he was her closest friend, he had seen every skeleton in her closet and stuck around in spite of all that. She wouldn’t push her luck by believing that love was something attainable for her or that there might be someone out there who would love her, Lexa made sure of that.
Murphy knew this wasn’t a battle he would win, they had had this conversation many times before and Clarke was just as stubborn as ever. He threw his hands up in surrender and led the way back to the cashier to return their batting equipment. After handing the equipment over he threw his arm around her shoulders. “You know I just want you to be happy, right?”
“I know,” she said as she smiled and leaned into his embrace. Me too, she thought.