A/N - A flashback to when Bellamy found out Abby hit Clarke...
TRIGGER WARNING: mention of mild abuse implied mild eating disorder
comments make me happy ;)
Her dad left without a word when she was 10, and Abby (Bellamy refuses to refer to her as Clarke's mom. She doesn't deserve that title in his mind) had spent years convincing Clarke it was her fault. Bellamy's pretty sure she still blames herself. After Jake left, Abby just got worse. In 7th grade there was a while where Clarke stopped eating, and after bugging her for weeks, Bellamy finally discovered it was because Abby had been giving her shit about her weight. Clarke had to beg him not to go yell at Abby and promise to start eating again. Bellamy kept an eye on her for a long time after that, making sure Octavia did too. Bellamy hates Abby, plain and simple. In addition to causing some serious self-image issues for Clarke, Abby never even cared that she was hurting her.
Bellamy worried a little less after Clarke moved in and he could keep an eye on her all the time. Abby didn't even put up a fight. He can remember the day he decided he had to get her out of that house. It's burned forever into his memory.
Clarke and Octavia were 14, finishing up 8th grade. They had come home from school one day, Clarke already planning on spending the night, as she did most days. Bellamy had made them dinner and then they all settled in for a movie, curled up on the couch. They were watching 10 Things I Hate About You, one of Clarke's favorites. Then Bellamy had accidentally split his glass of water on Clarke's head as she rested against his chest. Instead of laughing it off and calling him a dumbass like she normally did, Clarke's face had gone slack.
"Oh no," she muttered, hushed. Then she leapt up and bolted for the bathroom. Bellamy and Octavia exchanged a worried glance before running after her as the door slammed shut. Bellamy knocked at the door.
"Clarke? Clarke are you ok?" he had asked, concern creeping into his voice. "Clarke open the door, please."
"No, I'm fine just go away," Clarke insisted. Bellamy heard her rifling through drawers and frowned at Octavia.
"Clarkey whatcha lookin for?" Octavia called through the door. Clarke sighed.
"I just- ugh nothing," she replied. Octavia's eyebrows drew together.
"C'mon what do you need?" Octavia tried again. Bellamy heard a defeated sigh from Clarke as she gave in.
"Uh my mascara is running I need some makeup remover." She was clearly lying, and Octavia knew exactly how to catch her.
"Oh there's some in the top right drawer," Octavia bluffed, hoping Clarke wouldn't check.
"No, no it's empty," Clarke lied. "Can you just grab me your makeup bag?" Octavia looked at Bellamy, concern and desperation clouding her usually sparkling blue eyes, and shook her head. He nodded for her to head upstairs and after a brief silent argument, she listened, telling Clarke she was going to get her makeup.
"Clarke," Bellamy had called again, his voice low and rough with concern. "Clarke, either you tell me what's wrong or I swear to god I'll break down this door."
"Bellamy," Clarke whispered, her voice small and cracking. She was crying. "Please, just let it go. I'm fine, I promise."
"Ok," Bellamy said. He heard her sigh in relief. "I'm knocking the door down so step back."
"Bellamy I mean it!" she cried. "Just fuck off!" Something was seriously wrong, she never swore at him.
"And I mean it when I say I will rip this door off it's goddamn hinges, Clarke!" Bellamy had yelled back. For a few tense seconds, he worried she would actually make him do it. Then, the lock clicked and the door inched open, Clarke peeking out at him. Her eyes were red, sparkling with unshed tears. He set a hand on the door, forcing the door further open. And then his heart shattered into a million pieces. There, on Clarke's cheek, was a red-purple bruise outline of a hand. Someone had slapped her. His Princess, his precious girl. And someone had hit her. Bellamy felt tears spring to his eyes, but he held them back, determined not to cry in front of her. He knelt in front of Clarke, gently reaching up and brushing the pad of his thumb over the mark. She winced and in that instant, his sadness turned to rage. Cold, hard rage.
"Clarke," he started, his voice rough, "who did this to you?" She shook her head, sniffling, and looked up at him, her eyes full of pain and tears. "Clarke. Who did this?" She looked away, biting her lip, and then took a deep breath.
"Abby," Clarke whispered, barely audible. Bellamy felt rage burning through him and his vision went red. Without a word, he stood up and left the room, just as Octavia came down the stairs, makeup bag in hand. Seeing her fuming brother marching for the door, she ran in front of him, hand on his chest.
"Get out of my way, Octavia," he growled, not even looking at her.
"Wait a second, Bell, what is going on?" Octavia demanded. Then she heard Clarke crying in the bathroom and looked past her brother, who used her momentary distraction to push by her. Scarily calm, he grabbed his keys from the counter and started for the door.
"Bellamy!" It's Clarke's voice that stopped him. He turned around slowly. She was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, tears staining her cheeks and Octavia next to her, hugging her. Clarke met Bellamy's eyes. "Please, don't. Please just stay here and finish the movie with us, I'm fine. I don't want anything to happen to you." That's what broke him. That she was really sitting there, crying on the bathroom floor with an angry red handprint on her cheek, and still worried about him.
"Octavia, take care of her, I'll be back," he ordered, his voice low and angry. He slammed the door shut behind him, doing his best to ignore Clarke's cries. He had jumped in his truck, feeling numb with rage. He was going to kill Abby. He shook his head. No, no he wasn't going to touch her. Because if he did, he could end up in jail, leaving Clarke and Octavia with no one. No, he was just going to make sure she knew damn well that Clarke was no longer hers.
Several minutes later, Bellamy pulled into Abby's driveway, less angry and more determined. He slammed shut the car door and marched up to the house, banging on the door. It took a few minutes of rapid knocking until a very flustered and irritated Abby finally opened the door.
"Bellamy? What the fuck are you doing at my house at 11:30?" she demanded, not a shred of concern in her expression.
"Clarke," he bit out. Abby blinked, confused.
"Is she ok?" Nothing. Abby had no concern for her daughter's well being. She was just annoyed at being woken up so late.
"No and you should know that," Bellamy growled. "I saw what you did to her, Abby. I saw the mark, and let me tell you that is never happening again."
"Young man, I suggest you watch yourself," Abby replied coldly. "Clarke is my daughter and it is up to me as to how I raise her. You are a friend and that is all, so mind your own business and stay out of ours." Abby moved to close the door, but Bellamy held it open, stepping into the doorway. Abby fumed, but Bellamy didn't give her a chance to say another word.
"To be honest, Abby, I couldn't give a fuck about what you suggest. She may be your daughter biologically, but you are not her mother and you haven't been for a long time." Abby's mouth dropped open in shock- she couldn't believe he was speaking to her this way. But he didn't stop there. "Octavia and I are Clarke's family more than you ever have been. And I am not going to sit by and let you treat her the way you do a second longer. So here's what's going to happen. Tomorrow, you're going to leave the house while Clarke, Octavia and I come get her stuff. Then she's going to come live with us." Abby blinked, affronted. "Is there a problem Abby?" She swallowed, knowing in her heart that Bellamy wasn't wrong. Maybe this is the one thing she could do right for Clarke.
"No, there's no problem. But I want to be here when you come to get her stuff," Abby insisted. Bellamy blinked, stepping back. She's not even fighting for Clarke. He scoffed, shaking his head at her.
"I'll ask her," was all he could manage. Abby's expression hardened.
"No, I will be here. It is not up for debate, Mr. Blake."
"Fine," Bellamy growled. He then spun on his heel and marched back to his car, slamming the door shut and driving home. The anger had left him by the time he reached the house, leaving him with a broken heart and exhausted mind. But he had to be strong for Clarke. So when he got inside, he was determined not to cry until he had made sure she was ok. He warmed at the sight of his two girls curled up together on the couch, the end of 10 Things playing. Clarke wasn't crying anymore and sat straight up when he walked in.
"Bellamy," she whispered. Octavia looked up, too, concern etched in her face.
"Hey, girls," he said tiredly. He walked over and sat next to Clarke, toeing off his shoes. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine, Bellamy, are you?" Bellamy couldn't help but smile at his sweet girl, always concerned for him. He kissed her forehead.
"Yeah, Princess. I'm fine. I talked to your mom." Clarke stiffened beside him. "It's ok, we just talked. And, uh, if you want," he started slowly, not wanting to overwhelm her, "tomorrow we can go get some of your stuff and you can stay here for a while."
"But my mom-"
"We discussed it. You can go back there whenever you want, but she's okayed you staying with us... indefinitely," he added softly. Tears brimmed Clarke's eyes and she covered her mouth in shock, but Bellamy could see the smile.
"Really?" she and Octavia asked at the same time, Octavia shrieking and Clarke whispering.
"Is that a yes?" Bellamy prompted, hopeful. Clarke nods joyfully, launching herself into his arms. She buried her face in his neck, squeezing him tight.
"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried. "Thank you, Bellamy!"
"Hey I want in," Octavia complained, poking Clarke. She let go of Bellamy and he smiled as she turned to hug her best friend- no, her sister. Because that's what they are now. A family.