4As Clarke sat at the table, nervously smoothing the folds of her black skirt, she was finding it hard to believe that this was the first night of the rest of her life. From here on out, every day would bring her one step closer to - well, happily ever after as her mother would put it. Clarke wasn't a skeptic of the program, not at all. She'd seen the data herself. She just wished it wouldn't be such an ordeal to get to the finish line.
Still. She'd heard of Coach pairing people up with their final match from the very first date, although truth be told, that was rather rare. And she was pretty sure she would have been notified already if that was true. But Clarke knew that no matter who walked through the doors for her, her life would never be the same. With a bit of a smile, she wondered if it would be a good thing or bad thing.
As if responding to this thought, a tall broad man with a messy head of curls walked through the door, and as she did for everyone who had entered the restaurant, Clarke raised Coach up to scan him.
Bellamy Blake. Age 26. At least for tonight, he was her match. She watched as he paused ten feet away from her, lifting his Coach to scan her back. When he lowered it, he was frowning slightly. Clarke tried not to read too much into that. She stood up to greet him, though her smile felt forced. She opened her mouth to say hello, but he was the one to talk first.
"You're early."
Clarke glanced down at Coach which was displaying the time. 7:25. "So are you."
Bellamy's mouth turned slightly upward at the edges. "Yeah, five minutes, like a normal person."
Clarke decided to let that one slide. "Well, I'm a little nervous," she said, sitting back down. "It's my first time."
"There's one thing we have in common," Bellamy said, sitting down across from her.
"You're nervous?"
"No. It's my first time," he said. Clarke nodded, racking her brain for something to shift the conversation in a more interesting direction, but once again he beat her to it. "So, Clarke Griffin?"
She smiled. "Yeah, that's right."
"As in Abigail Griffin?"
She was quiet a moment before replying. She was really hoping this wasn't going where she thought it was. "Yes as in Abigail Griffin, but I don't see why that matters."
"I don't know, princess, you tell me," he said, looking at her in a way that dared her to hold his gaze. Ah. So it was like that. "Let me guess, you couldn't wait to try out mommy's new invention?"
She didn't hold back her bitter laugh this time. It was clear that Bellamy wasn't holding anything back. "Yeah, me and 95% of all Arkadians." She realized that she was defending Coach to him now, but she couldn't stop herself. "Have you ever thought that my mother has nothing to do with my decision to sign up?" Clarke thought about what Coach had told her just one hour before, the statistic that was plastered all over billboards and advertisements. The service had a 99.8% success rate. Who wouldn't be compelled by that?
"Well, princess, if you say it enough times, maybe I'll believe you."
"Really?" Clarke said, losing her temper. That was enough. No more trying to turn this date around. "You're here too, just like me."
Bellamy leaned across the table, and Clarke felt the intensity of his stare. She had been prepared for a first date, but this guy clearly had a bone to pick instead. "And why do you think I'm here, huh? To meet my one true love and live happily ever after?"
Clarke blushed, hearing how stupid it sounded said out loud. But she answered,"Why else would you be here?"
Bellamy's eyes finally moved away from her face and flicked downwards towards Clarke's Coach. "Because if we go into Coach and check our expiration date and it says… let's say a year, you know what happens next? We get into a car that takes us to a nice, large house with a fully stocked fridge, probably a lakeside view and a completely covered rent bill. And I'm set for a year. I mean, come on, Clarke, how do you think they persuaded that 95% to sign up? I'm not here to find my soulmate. I'm here because I want a roof over my head."
She didn't respond. For one thing, she thought it better not to tell him that there were talks of making Coach mandatory for all citizens. And the thing was, he had a point. He wasn't saying anything that wasn't true. But screw him anyway. She'd been excited for this date. Maybe that was stupid, and yeah, maybe he had some valid issues with the principle of the matter, but god. This guy was a capital-A Asshole.
So, finally giving up, she picked up Coach and said, "What do you say we check that expiration date you're so worried about and get it over with?"
For a moment, a flicker of something almost like guilt passed over Bellamy's face, but it was gone in a flash, quickly replaced by his calm, cool and collected look of self assurance. "We press it at the same time, right?"
Clarke nodded. She held Coach in her hands, this white, flat, circular device with a black screen. From the moment she'd had a Coach of her own and it had spoken to her, it had felt - it sounded crazy - but it felt like it had known her. If it paired her with this guy, though, then it was clear Coach didn't know her at all.
"Ready?" Bellamy said, his thumb hovering over the screen.
Without looking up, Clarke nodded impatiently. They tapped their Coaches together and a countdown instantly started: 12 HOURS. She sighed in relief. "That long?"
Bellamy shrugged, seemingly as unbothered about the short timeframe as she was. Maybe he wanted a year without money troubles, but Clarke guessed he preferred to spend that year with someone else. "Guess we better hurry up and eat."
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Bellamy finished his meal in fifteen minutes, so Clarke made sure to take her time. It didn't help that they were eating in painstaking silence, but if he was going to be an asshole then she was going to at least try and make him regret it. They boarded the car outside which was really like a minibus, and she tried to ignore that they were surrounded by other couples who looked much happier to be going home together than her and Bellamy.
The driver pulled up to a sizey cottage that really was, it turned out, by a lake. Clarke couldn't find it within herself to be happy about it. She felt like any betrayal of positive emotion would surely be squandered by the grumpy man sitting next to her with his arms crossed. Still, she felt a silent thrill when she pressed her hand to the scanner by the door. It could only be unlocked by her touch or Bellamy's, and since he resented the whole process, she was the one who got to do the fun stuff. All of this was as new to her as it was to him, whether he believed that or not.
It was a really lovely interior, with a firepit and large couches and a flatscreen. For a fleeting moment, she wished that the timer had given them longer here. But then she remembered that she'd have more opportunities with more…. well, suitable matches. So instead, without a word to Bellamy, she ventured off on her own, peering into each room. For as large as this cottage was, it still only had one bedroom and one bed.
She emerged back into the front hall, where Bellamy was still standing and delivered the unhappy news. "You should take the bed," she said, dropping down heavily onto the couch.
"What?" Bellamy asked, looking surprised. "Why?"
"You were the one who was so obsessed with the roof over your head. And if I'm such a princess, I've had my fair share of nice big beds like that, haven't I?" She wasn't even trying to play nice now. He still looked vaguely unsure, so Clarke just groaned. "Take it. You clearly wanted it."
"We could…" He trailed off, looking vaguely displeased at having to make an effort at all. "We could share it."
She laughed. "I'd rather sleep on the couch for a month."
He rolled his eyes, taking a few steps closer to her. But it was clear he wasn't going much farther than that. "Look, I'm sorry about before. I was…"
"An asshole?"
Bellamy chose to ignore that comment. "I guess I was surprised that Coach matched me up with someone so…" Clarke raised her eyebrows, daring him to finish that sentence. But she was surprised that she agreed with the conclusion. "Wrong for me. We have ten hours left and then we never have to see each other for the rest of our lives. I'm not gonna ask again. If you still want the couch, be my guest. But if you can be civil, I can be civil."
She pretended to think it over for an uncomfortably long time, but finally, Clarke stood up, barely smiling at Bellamy. "I don't think I was the one who had a problem with civility, but fine. Let's share."
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
In truth, Clarke didn't mind sharing a bed with Bellamy. It was an unbelievably comfortable mattress and he was a relatively considerate sleeper - didn't hog too many blankets, kept on his side. And if she woke up with her legs tangled with his and his arm slung over her back, well. She was just glad she noticed before he did.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
The two cars were out front waiting for them as their time ran out and Clarke, for one, was ready to chalk this up as a failure. But as she turned to leave, Bellamy grabbed her wrist. "Hey," he said begrudgingly. "Good luck on the next one."
Clarke considered him for a moment. "I'm really sorry you signed up for such a shitty reason. You shouldn't have had to do that." He blinked, taken aback, and then nodded. "But you're in this now. So a word of advice: don't be such a dick to the next girl."
And then she turned on her heel and got in the car, not looking back once. Thank god that's over, she thought. At least now I'll never have to see him again.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
On her run the next day, she interrogated Coach unhappily on what good a night like that could possibly have done her. To which Coach, pragmatic as ever, replied, "Even an unpleasant and brief encounter may prove useful in data acquisition." And Clarke guessed that made some sense, so when she heard the ding that signified she was being sent on another date, she went straight home to get ready.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Niylah was a more-than-pleasant surprise. She was easy to talk to, far more personable than Bellamy, and she looked stunning in that long purple dress. So the four month expiration date seemed perfect. Clarke began to think she shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss Coach. It seemed her mother's device knew more about her than she'd thought.
The four months passed by in a pleasant haze of good food, good conversation, and yes, good sex. Still, she wasn't devastated like she thought she'd be by the end. She and Niylah got along great, but it was more like friends with benefits than a real relationship. "Give me a call when you find your true match," Niylah said when they parted. They weren't allowed to have contact with each other again until it was all over.
"You too. Stay in touch."
So by the time Clarke's car pulled away from their lovely lakefront house, her night with Bellamy wasn't anything more than a vague and unpleasant memory.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
From there, it kept going. A friendly two months with Wells, an interesting week with Cillian and an intense couple weeks with Josephine. Her time with Josie might have given her some of the best sex she had ever had, but it was almost a relief to part ways. By the time she was heading to her sixth date, she was missing the soft caresses of Niylah. That wasn't to say that she wanted her back, but would it kill Coach to send some true romance her way?
So as she entered the restaurant, Clarke had some high hopes. But it seemed that every time she developed the slightest amount of expectations, Coach dashed them to pieces, because the moment she walked through the door, she saw Bellamy Blake, sitting at the same table as last time. "Pity the poor soul on a date with him," she muttered, planning on breezing right past him unnoticed.
Then Coach said the fatal words. "Match confirmed."
"My match is Bellamy?"
"That is correct," Coach said in its breezy, light voice. Maybe that was meant to inspire confidence, but Clarke felt like chucking it to the ground right about now.
"But I've already had him before!"
"Match confirmed."
Well, it looked like her fate was sealed. Of all the people Coach could reunite her with, it had to be the biggest asshole she'd ever met. As she lowered her device, she saw Bellamy staring directly at her with a half-surprised, half-annoyed impression. She took a begrudging seat across from him, crossing one leg over another. "So we meet again."
"Don't worry, princess, I'm not happy about it either."
"I see you're still an asshole," she said, and Bellamy surprised her by laughing. That made Clarke at least a little more comfortable. She hadn't known he was capable of laughter. But though it was nice to see that he was less intense, that didn't mean she had to let him off the hook. "So do you treat all your dates like this?"
"My other dates don't happen to be Abigail Griffin's daughter." Then, Bellamy frowned. "Unless you have any sisters, that is." She bit back a laugh. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. But he went on. "I didn't know you could get someone more than once."
"Neither did I."
Bellamy sighed, searching for something to say. When he finally settled on, "I see you turned twenty-two," Clarke was surprised.
"Yeah. Spent it with a lovely woman named Niylah."
"How long did Coach stick you with her?"
Clarke glared at him. "I wouldn't exactly call it being stuck. If you were my match, maybe. But, let's see. I had Niylah for four months, Wells for two, two weeks with Josephine and one week with Cillian." She paused for a moment before adding, "But Niylah was my favorite."
Bellamy was quiet for a moment and Clarke was wondering why she bothered telling him all of that in the first place when he asked, "Josephine Lightbourne?"
"Yeah, why?"
"I had her too."
And suddenly, Clarke forgot about why she hated Bellamy. She forgot that she was still trying to hold a grudge. Her curiosity overpowered any lingering traces of resentment. "No way. How long did you have her for?"
"Just a week. She was a little… I don't know, intense."
That was one way to put it. Clarke wanted to ask Bellamy if Josephine had whispered "This is about to be the best thing to ever happen to you," in his ear too the first night they met, but then she realized that would be the kind of conversation she'd have with a friend. And Bellamy was certainly not a friend. "Well, who else did you have?"
"There was the week with Josephine. Then I had a week with Monroe, Roma, a couple weeks with Bree. And then there was…" He trailed off, his face growing soft and almost tender. Clarke was stunned by how lovely it made him look.
"Who?" she asked softly, not wanting him to notice her curiosity in fear that he would shut down.
"Five and a half months with Gina. She was my favorite." But the way he said it seemed different than how Clarke had meant it with Niylah.
"Did you love her?" Clarke asked in a hushed voice.
Bellamy looked as if he thought that was a strange question. "Yes, I loved her. Didn't you love Niylah?"
"No," she confessed. "I've never been in love." A silence that should have been awkward but somehow wasn't settled over the table. "So does that mean you think my mother's program works?"
"No," Bellamy said unhesitatingly. "Gina was too good for me. We never should have matched in the first place."
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Clarke managed to actually enjoy her dinner this time. The conversation may not have been sparkling, but at least it replaced the unfortunate silence of last time. In fact, they were almost halfway through dinner when Bellamy realized they hadn't checked their expiration date yet.
It was a relief when the timer started counting down from 16 HOURS. Bellamy looked at her with a strange smile. "At least I can make you breakfast this time."
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Clarke found that as long as they stayed off the topic of her mother, Bellamy wasn't the worst person in the world to talk to. She learned that he had a sister who had signed up for the program before he did, and not by choice. It was because he couldn't support her anymore. And when he found himself living outside of the walls with the 5% of Arkadians who either weren't old enough yet or refused to sign up, he realized that no matter what his morals were, he wanted to be inside the walls with his sister.
And then Octavia met her one true match. A man named Lincoln. And Bellamy knew that if he wanted to see her again, he'd have to wait for his match. So there were a lot of reasons to resent the process that first night with her.
"You know," Clarke said, unable to help herself, "the more cooperative you are, the sooner you'll find your match."
"I shouldn't have had to do that. I should be able to see my sister," he said. And once again, Bellamy made a very good point, so Clarke swiftly shut up.
She told him more about her matches, why she liked Niylah, why she loved Wells but not at all in that way, and he told her a little more about Gina. Still, he was decidedly close-lipped about the details and she didn't press him. It was kind of nice to have a date that she wasn't expecting to go anywhere. It was like a break from the whole thing.
That didn't mean she liked Bellamy, of course. Every time he called her princess, she was reminded of why she was so relieved he would only be in her life for a few hours. Still, when it was time for sleep, there was no argument about the bed. Bellamy woke up before she did this time, and Clarke wondered if they had wound up curled together again. She hoped not.
Still, he hadn't lied about breakfast. Though she would never tell him this, Bellamy made a damn good omelette.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
"Well," he said awkwardly as they stood outside by their two cars. "Goodbye for real?"
"Hopefully," Clarke said. Then they shook hands and parted ways. Clarke was surprised to find that the experience wasn't entirely an unpleasant one. But she was still satisfied knowing it wouldn't happen again.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Clarke had wanted romance, and on her next date, Coach delivered. His name was Finn Collins. He was twenty-three, had rather long hair, but it suited him, and he brought flowers for their first date. They were going to spend a year together, Clarke's longest relationship yet. And it wasn't like it was with Niylah. What she had with Finn felt real.
He was sweet, he was funny and he adored her. He was gentle and considerate in bed and he did his best to please her in every aspect of their lives. It was that simple and that nice. The first four months were wonderful, and when Finn whispered "I love you," in hushed tones one night, Clarke didn't hesitate before saying it back. She finally understood what love felt like. It felt like a soft place to land.
Four months later and eight months in, however, things within Clarke were changing. She loved Finn. She liked spending time with him. But he wanted to spend all his time with her, even when she wanted to be alone sometimes. He loved her, but it was almost like he worshipped her. In the beginning, he had challenged her a bit. Teased her, disagreed with her. But now, it was like she could do no wrong.
Truth be told, she was starting to realize that Finn loved her more than she loved him. She wanted to give him more. She wanted to understand what he meant when he said he couldn't imagine life without her. Because Clarke could imagine a life without Finn, even a happy one. She didn't want to leave him. But it made sense that he wasn't her true match. During their last night in the house, he said to her in a hurried voice, "We don't have to leave each other."
Clarke sighed, feeling sorry for him. Feeling a little sorry for herself too. "Yes, we do. That's how this works."
"It's not how it has to work."
She shook her head, confused. "What are you talking about?"
"We could go."
She laughed, then felt instantly guilty when she saw the wilting look on his face. "Go where?"
"Past the wall. We could leave Coach behind."
The silence was heavy. She knew that Finn was right. If she loved him enough, she would run. But she wanted to see who came next. "Your true match is out there. I'm sorry that it's not me," she said, and then, for the first time since Coach had controlled her life, Clarke slept on the couch.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
When they had to part ways in the morning, Finn held her for a very long time. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she clutched him tightly. "You're the first person I ever loved," she told him. "You always will be."
She knew he was crying too. "Thanks, Clarke. For everything." When they pulled away, she felt a fleeting urge to run with him. But it quickly passed when she realized that she only wanted to do that because with Finn, things were easy. And now she'd have to start all over again with someone new. "May we meet again," he said softly.
But Clarke knew that they wouldn't.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Coach gave her a month long break, and it was nice to relax in her small, temporary apartment. She went to the movies, went for runs, and spent some much needed time alone. But when her calls to Abby kept dropping, she had to call Coach headquarters. The boss's daughter had some privileges, and though most people weren't able to talk to their loved ones, Clarke was supposed to be the exception.
But Kane was the one to answer the phone. "Clarke," he said, though he seemed preoccupied. "What a lovely surprise."
"Hi, Kane. Is my mother there? I can't seem to reach her."
Kane was silent. "She's been removed from her position. It's only temporary, you understand."
Clarke's stomach sank. She had a feeling she knew what this was about. But her mother had promised her. She'd promised. "Why?"
"It was just a minor -"
"Don't bullshit me Kane. Just tell me. Is she bad again?"
Kane sighed. She knew this was hurting him as badly as it was hurting her. "Yes, Clarke. She is. But believe me when I say I'll do everything in my power -"
Maybe it was rude, but Clarke was tired of empty promises, so she just hung up the phone. Clarke knew that she'd told her mother that if she relapsed, she couldn't go through it again. So the last week of her break was spent in a half-depressed stupor. Her heart felt weary. But when she was notified of another date, she tried to find it within herself to give her weary heart away.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
So maybe she was relieved when it was Bellamy again. She was sitting at their usual table, Coach flat on the table next to her dinner. Clarke was trying her best to look excited and open, but she was tired and sad and she just wanted to curl up in her bed and stay there for the next ten years. So when Coach said "Match confirmed," she sat up straighter, plastering on a smile.
Then Bellamy slid into the seat across from her. Clarke's eyes widened as she looked down at Coach. "Again?"
"Match confirmed."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." She sank her head in her hands.
"From the look on your face when I walked in, I figured you already knew."
Though he couldn't see it, Clarke rolled her eyes. Of course he would figure it was all about him. But she looked up, frowning. "Well, I didn't really feel like going on a real date tonight anyway." In truth, she was pretty frustrated by the whole thing. Twice was weird enough, but three times? How much more data could Coach possibly gather from another doomed interaction?
"So, who have you been up to in the last year?" Bellamy asked, and Clarke tried to ignore how crass the joke was by trying not to chuckle at it.
"Just one person. His name was Finn."
"How long -"
"A year. And yes, I loved him, and no, I don't really want to talk about it." She knew she was being short with him, but right now, a night with Bellamy was the last thing she needed. She almost wished Finn was here now instead of him, but she didn't really. At least with Bellamy, she knew she didn't have to worry about tending to his feelings. "And you?"
"Four months with a girl named Raven. She was nice, but I think we work better as friends." By nice, Clarke assumed he meant good in bed. Though maybe she was just assuming that because he was such an asshole. "Three weird months with Murphy. And the rest of the time I spent alone."
"Lucky you," Clarke said, without even thinking, or maybe listening.
"What's up with you tonight, princess? Trouble in the castle?" he said abruptly. Clarke should have known he wouldn't play nice for long. Hell, she was pretty sure they were incapable of being nice to each other at the same time.
"Something like that," she said and if Bellamy heard the warning in her voice, he chose to ignore it.
"And how is Queen Abigail doing by the way? Maybe she could shed some light on why Coach keeps throwing us together?"
"I don't talk to my mother anymore."
"What did she do, cut off your allowance?" he asked. Clarke knew it was a hypothetical question because once you entered the system, you weren't responsible for paying for anything, not even the food on the plate in front of you, pre-selected by Coach and impossible to swap for a different dish. But it was like he thought that just because her mother was Abigail Griffin, she wasn't allowed to have real problems.
Maybe his suffering had been greater than hers. She had no way of knowing. But suffering was still suffering, and Clarke was entitled to her pain. So she told Bellamy the truth, not because she thought he could comfort her, but because she wanted to make him feel like the absolute dick that he was. "Well, you can get drugs inside the walls just as easily as outside. Easier if you're Abby Griffin. I told my mom that if she relapsed a third time, I was done. So I'm done."
The look on Bellamy's face was definitely one of shame, but it didn't make Clarke feel any better. "I'm sorry, Clarke, I didn't know."
"No, you didn't know."
Bellamy was quiet for a moment, but he wasn't looking down. He was looking right at her, meeting her eyes. She almost respected him for that. Almost. "Look, Clarke -"
"Let's just check the expiration date already."
"Can you just listen to me for a moment?" he said, but he said it gently. Clarke begrudgingly looked up. "When I was thirteen, my mother died of an overdose." He said this almost casually, so she made sure not to betray any surprise on her face. She was surprised he was telling her anything at all. "I pretended to be fifteen so I could get work, because otherwise, no one would be able to take care of my sister. I was angry at my mother for a really long time."
He paused for a long moment so Clarke whispered, "But you're not anymore?"
Bellamy looked apologetic, but he said, "No, Clarke, I'm still mad. But at least now, I'm able to feel sorry for her. And I can let myself miss her. I'm not saying it gets easier, but… You and I both know there's nothing good I can say about this. I'm really sorry that you're going through something like this right now."
"And?"
He looked puzzled. "And what?"
"What else are you sorry for?"
His face broke out into a gentle grin. It made him look younger. "And I'm sorry for being an asshole, is that what you want to hear?"
"Yeah, that about covers it," she said, grinning back. And from there, the night was easier.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
The thing about Coach was that it pre-ordered their meal for them and they were unable to change the selection. So if Clarke wanted to get drunk, well. That wasn't really an option if Coach hadn't predicted that desire. And god, did she want to get drunk. So, as long as their date was longer than two hours, they'd have a house to sleep in that came with a fully stocked liquor cabinet. Like always, it wasn't a long date. They both laughed when the expiration date said: 14 HOURS. But she and Bellamy were more companionable tonight than they ever had been.
They dipped out on dinner as early as they could, and somewhere between four and five shots of vodka, an idea popped into Clarke's head. "What if we… you know… what if we…?"
"Sorry, princess, but I think you're gonna need to finish that sentence if you want me to understand you."
"What if Coach wants us to fuck and that's why it keeps putting us together?"
At first, Bellamy looked shocked. Then he threw his head back and laughed. He might have been a little drunk too. "I'll try anything to get away from you at this point." But Clarke wasn't prepared when he kissed her.
She'd known her fair share of douchebags in her life. And they were usually far too confident to be good kissers. But Bellamy, well, that was a different case. He really knew what he was doing. When he led her to the bedroom, his hand holding hers, she found herself excited for the first time about spending a night with him. The last time she'd slept with someone was Finn. Finn wasn't bad in bed, not by any means, but she had a feeling that Bellamy could show him a thing or two.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
And an hour later, feeling breathless and sweaty and happy in a tired way, Clarke dozed off into a nice, deep sleep, thinking about how right she was.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Bellamy still made her breakfast the next morning, only this time, there was a hangover smoothie to go with it. "What do you think, princess? Did we break the spell?"
"I guess we'll see, won't we?" she said. And without so much as a goodbye, they got into their separate cars and went their separate ways. But for the first time, Clarke didn't hate the idea of seeing Bellamy again.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
But when she met Lexa a week later, could anyone blame her for really hoping that this was it? It wasn't, of course. They had nearly two years together, but that was all. If Finn's love had been soft and gentle, then Lexa's love was intense and all-consuming. For the first time, Clarke didn't mind that they weren't able to see anyone else while in the system. It felt like she and Lexa were the only people in the world and she liked it that way. She didn't, for a while at least, care if she saw anyone else ever again.
But that beginning was like a hazy dream. If the love with Lexa was intense, so were the fights. Everything about being with Lexa was at maximum volume. As the two years passed, Clarke frequently thought of what Finn had whispered to her their last night. She didn't know if she was meant to be with Lexa forever. She knew that if it turned out to be them in the end, then that would be more than okay with her. But when the time came to say goodbye, she didn't breathe a word of rebellion to the woman she was madly in love with, even though it was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do.
Coach gave her a two month break after that, and while waiting, things within the system had truly changed. She heard from Kane, but not her mother. Coach was now mandatory, meaning everyone from outside the wall would be moved. And because it was mandatory, there would be allowed some conversing with those you were not matched with. But it was required that your partner be with you at all times.
Most of the approved events were mixers with other long-term Coach couples, which Clarke thought would probably be a good thing. If she really thought about it, being able to see someone other than Finn might have strengthened their love. The real new thing, though, would be the public parks.
She spent her break missing Lexa, thinking about her eyes in the early morning sunshine, the tattoos Clarke liked to trace, the quiet yet steady affection she always felt between them. When it was bad, it was very bad. But on the whole, her relationship with Lexa was very, very good. And it was the first time Clarke really understood why people like Bellamy had wanted to get rid of Coach. It used to be that you meet someone, and you get a good feeling, and you gave it your best shot.
Still, she had faith in Coach. And that was mostly because she still had faith in her mother's mind, if not Abby herself. The loss of her mom lived in Clarke like a dull throb, but Bellamy had been right. As two years passed, she was able to forgive her mother in quiet ways, even if she couldn't speak to her.
The two months alone had been good for her. Still, when Coach told her that it was time for another date, Clarke wasn't sure if she was ready for anything after Lexa. But she was going to try. And maybe, in the back of her mind, she was hoping to see Bellamy.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
As Bellamy sat at the table waiting for another date, he wondered how much longer he'd have to do this. He was almost thirty. And he had already found the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but because of this stupid fucking system, he was torn away from her. Again. He spent two years with Echo. At first, he hadn't quite understood how to co-exist with her. Something about her had been almost foreign to him. But learning Echo was like loving her. And by the time he knew her heart, she'd captured his.
So here he was. And what now? Who next? Then, in walked a pretty blonde in a dark blue dress and Bellamy could breathe. His dates with Clarke were basically breaks in and of themselves. And seeing her again gave him hope. Because if Coach decided to reunite him with Clarke, then it could reunite him with Echo. She looked different, with her hair cut short. But the dress was definitely doing her favors, and Bellamy might have loved somebody else, but that didn't stop his brain from reminding him of the last time he'd seen Clarke, and the night that they had shared.
He almost felt like standing up and greeting her with a hug, as he would any friend. But he didn't. They had a way of doing things. And he didn't want to upset that balance any more than they had the last time. "Bellamy," Clarke said in a warm voice. It was the first time she'd greeted him like that. "Almost didn't recognize you with the beard." She slid into her usual seat and Bellamy felt as if the two years had likely changed her as much as it had changed him.
"You feel like talking about what we've been up to?" he asked, because that was what they usually did.
Clarke sighed. "Not particularly."
"Me neither."
"So should we just…" She placed her Coach in front of her and Bellamy did the same. "Count of three?"
"Let's just go for it." And they did. And the countdown started back from 18 MONTHS. They sat for a moment in stunned silence.
Clarke was shaking her head. "That can't be right. That doesn't - that doesn't make any sense."
"Coach," Bellamy said, "is this a mistake?"
"Everything happens for a reason," it replied, in its infuriatingly calm voice.
And as Bellamy locked eyes with Clarke, much was understood between them. They didn't hate each other anymore. They might even call each other friends. But neither was looking forward to spending the next year and a half with the other.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
The first night was strange since it was usually all the time they ever had. They slept in the same bed, not like they had a choice, and at least the act of doing so was familiar. But Bellamy was formulating a plan. A year and a half with Clarke meant a year and a half he was going without seeing Echo. There was no way to speed up the time, and there was no way to trade places.
There was just the endless waiting. And the thing was, he still barely liked Clarke. Not only that, he barely knew her. Bellamy wondered if that was the worst part about the system. You had to start from scratch every time. All the effort you put into making a relationship work evaporated the minute the clock ran down. And if there was one good thing about living with Clarke, it was that neither of them expected anything from the relationship.
And maybe, Bellamy used that as a way to absolve himself from guilt when he snuck out the next night to see Echo. It was nearing midnight, and Clarke had fallen asleep on the couch. She looked really small buried under the quilt and there was something unnervingly domestic about the image, so leaving her there was almost a relief.
He had to duck around corners and avoid being sighted by the nightguards. He didn't know the rules too well, but he knew that what he was doing was strictly off limits. They'd relaxed their policy a little, but not completely. Still, when he finally saw Echo sitting by the pond they liked to walk to, just as they'd agreed, he felt like he could take a breath. Here was someone he knew, someone who didn't scare him, someone he was choosing to see, even though she looked conflicted about it.
It was a nice night, and it felt comforting and familiar to kiss her again. But it only lasted thirty minutes before they knew they had to leave or risk getting caught. He felt disheartened to leave her, but he didn't have a choice. Yet another reason he resented Coach and the woman who had created it.
When he arrived back home, Clarke was no longer asleep on the couch. Bellamy figured she must have gone to bed, but when he went to pour himself a drink, he realized there was a figure sitting on a barstool in the dark.
"Jesus christ, princess, you nearly gave me a heart attack."
"Where were you?"
Bellamy shook his head, decidedly playing dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just went for a walk."
"Bullshit."
"Why do you care? Don't we both agree that this is headed nowhere?"
"That's not the point! Do you know what could happen to you if you're caught breaking the rules?"
"Something bad, I'm sure."
"You could get banished."
"I grew up outside city limits," he said, reciting the words like they had been written out on a notecard. "I'm sure I'd have no problem going back there."
"There is no back there, not anymore. Everyone is here. If you want to promote a 99.8% success rate, then you need everyone involved. So you can tell me where you went or you can screw yourself over, along with whoever you went to go meet."
Bellamy sighed heavily. Seemed like he wasn't getting out of this one. "Fine. I was paired with a woman named Echo for two years. I went to go meet her. You got a problem with that?"
Clarke blinked, her face impassive in the darkness. "That's all? I thought you were going to meet your sister or something." The mention of his sister surprised him. It felt like he hadn't thought about Octavia in a long time.
But he still had more to say. "I was paired with you more than once. The same can happen with me and Echo. And I'm really sick of wasting time."
Clarke shrugged. "Okay. But if you're gonna keep meeting her, then you're going to need help."
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
And that was how it started. Bellamy would meet up with Echo once a week, and Clarke would go with him. She'd give them their privacy, keep watch, let him do what he wanted to do. But the walk from their house and to their house would be made together. You were allowed to go places provided you were going there with your match and Clarke knew the ins and outs of the system far better than he did. For the first time, he was glad to be paired up with the creator's daughter.
It was their third week of sneaking out when things started to change. He was happy to keep seeing Echo, but it was almost more fun to have this secret with Clarke. And Bellamy was starting to think she was more badass than prissy, especially after the time they almost got caught and she reacted fast. They were on their way back home, and Bellamy was describing his date with Echo in detail. After what happened, he always waited until they arrived home to do that.
It didn't feel strange to share those things with Clarke. At this point, it didn't feel strange to share anything with her. But she was the one who rounded the corner first. She saw one of the nightguards. And she pushed him against a wall and kissed him with all her might. There was a lot of force in that tiny body, and it was even better than the kiss they'd shared while they were both drunk because there was intention in this one. She was trying to tell him something. And he knew that it was just to keep their cover, but he found himself kissing her back with enthusiasm.
In a whirlwind of a moment, he'd forgotten all about Echo and the date they'd just shared. He was here in this moment with this surprising woman who he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around. Finally and too soon, she pulled away. "It's past curfew. And you talk loud. Figured it would be better to shut you up with a kiss instead of my hand."
His voice was hoarse and his mind was muddled when he asked, "How's that?"
"If it was you who looked over and saw that my hand was around your mouth, wouldn't you think that was suspicious too?" She stepped back and the air between them felt colder. "I think that's enough luck-pushing for one night."
Bellamy wasn't so sure he agreed with that.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
He didn't tell Echo about the kiss. But for months after, the secret gnawed at him. She would have understood. But he knew he couldn't tell her.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
It was three months in when Clarke mentioned the beard again. She was brushing her teeth as he was trimming his beard. There may only have been one bed, but the house luckily came with two bathroom sinks.
"You should shave it all off," she teased, her mouth full of toothpaste and her hair messy from the night before. They'd started waking up tangled in each other's arms more often than not. But they were wise enough not to mention it to each other.
"You don't like it?" Bellamy said, pretending to be hurt.
"Truth?"
"Of course."
"I think you look better without it."
"Echo likes it," he said softly.
Clarke smiled. "Then it doesn't matter what I think. Unless…"
"Unless what?"
"Unless you don't like it."
"Why would you think I don't like it?"
"You're always itching it."
"Well, we all make sacrifices for those we love."
Clarke laughed and Bellamy enjoyed the sound. "If your love is so strong, I think it can survive a shave."
So, that morning, he shaved his beard off and felt like a new man. Feeling extra impulsive, he started cutting his hair too, but he realized that might not have been the best idea when he was searching the house for a mirror so he could see the back of his head. He asked Clarke if she'd seen one lying around, but she just rolled her eyes and reached for the scissors.
As he let her cut his hair, he felt shaken by the sudden intimacy between them. Bellamy wasn't stupid. He knew what was happening to him. But he was with Echo. That was all that mattered. Besides, there was an expiration date with Clarke too. Best to just pick someone he liked and hope for the best.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
But then there was the night five months in that he forgot to meet Echo at all. He and Clarke started a movie and she'd fallen asleep curled up right beside her. He knew that he should wake her, but they still had twenty minutes and she looked so peaceful. Before he knew it, he'd fallen asleep too.
"Shit, Bellamy," Clarke had woken him at three in the morning.
"What? What's wrong?"
"We were supposed to meet Echo."
"Oh. Shit," he said. But he was really thinking about the crinkle in between Clarke's eyebrows that appeared whenever she was worried about something. And when he traced it with his thumb, she was kind enough not to say anything else.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
And then there was the day, only a month and a half in when he walked in on Clarke drawing. "You draw?"
Clarke looked up, surprised. Then she nodded, with an expression that was hard for Bellamy to place immediately. It took him a moment to realize that she was feeling shy.
"Can I see?"
"Oh, I don't -"
But like the asshole she thought he was, he was already sitting next to her. She'd been doodling on the window seat, the place that got the best light, so he figured she was finding inspiration from something outside. It was almost jarring when he saw his own face reflected back at him, in a rough charcoal sketch. "Wow."
"I draw everyone I meet, don't think you're special," she said, but she was blushing.
He chose not to make a sarcastic comment. Instead he said, "Can I have it when you're done?"
Clarke blinked, surprised, but then she nodded again. She looked beautiful like that, all flushed and pretty and flustered. He wished for a moment that he could draw too. Because when the eighteen months were up, it would be nice to have something to give her.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
The routine they settled into was a pleasant one. Bellamy still loved Echo, but the more time he spent with Clarke, the more that feeling slowly faded into a fond memory rather than an intense passion. But it wasn't an intense passion with Clarke either. It surprised him, when he first started to notice it. Sure, he'd always thought she was pretty, but he just liked laughing with her. He liked it when he woke up and found her in his arms. And he cared what she thought of him more than anyone else.
She hadn't been what he expected. She had turned into his best friend. But that was all. He was firm on that. She was going to go find her one true match, and he was going to hope to see Echo again. Besides, he knew that Coach was bound to throw them together a few more times. He'd had eighteen months plus three notable nights. Seeing Clarke had started to be one of the few things in the system that he could rely on.
Still, that didn't make it any easier to say goodbye. He had seen Echo one more time the night before, and they didn't know how long until they'd be able to meet again, but he told her that he hoped his next match would be her again. She smiled at him, taking his hand in hers and said softly, "I love you, Bellamy, but I don't think that's true."
When he asked Coach whether or not he'd see Echo again, pointedly leaving out the bit where he had snuck out to meet her for a year and a half, Coach said, "Everything happens for a reason." All he knew was that he and Clarke would be friends forever, and if the system was kind, Echo would be his final match.
And now, he and Clarke stood outside, watching as the timer ticked backwards from thirty seconds. They'd stood here three times before, but everything was so different now. He knew her. And he had let her know him. He couldn't find words that were sufficient enough to tell Clarke how much she meant to him, so instead he just wrapped her in his arms and held her tight.
There were ten seconds left. Bellamy could tell by the sound of the timer counting down. That was the moment Clarke decided to whisper something in his ear: "Next time I see you, I'll have something good to update you on."
"What's that, princess?"
She pulled away as Coach buzzed in their pockets. "I have a new favorite match." Then, before he had the chance to respond, she turned and walked away.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Coach gave him a break for a while, and Bellamy was grateful. He missed Echo and he missed Clarke, but he needed a break from both of them to figure out where his head was at. And as a week passed, he was starting to feel confident in his relationship with Echo. Every time Coach matched him with someone new, no matter how long it was for, it always felt like that relationship was the whole world. Of course the same thing happened when he was with Clarke. But Echo was real - real enough that his love for her extended beyond their allotted time.
So, as he spent time alone, he convinced himself that Echo was the one he wanted. He'd see Clarke again on the odd date or two, he was sure of that, and they'd be friends forever once they found their true matches. But Echo was his long game.
And then Coach had surprised him again. A week and a half after he and Clarke said goodbye, Coach let him know that his final match had been selected. "What do you mean, my final match?"
"This is your lifemate."
Bellamy found himself at a loss for words. That meant that his time in the system was over. But it couldn't be over."When… When do I meet them?"
"Tonight. Seven o'clock."
"And… Coach, is it someone I already know?"
"I cannot provide information about your final match at this time."
He nodded, though Coach couldn't see that of course. And then he went to his room to get ready, wondering who he would see at the table. Wondering who he was hoping to see.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
He hadn't meant to be late, but as he dressed, he felt like he was moving in slow motion. There was a layer of unreality over everything he was doing, as if every worry he had was pointless now. No matter what the outcome, it would all be over tonight.
He stood outside the restaurant doors, enjoying the cool night breeze and the last few moments where the mystery of his future still lingered.
He walked inside.
There was his true match, sitting there, waiting for him.
It was Echo.
He stood there for a long moment, frozen. The moment he saw her, he was struck with disappointment. Because Bellamy realized that he had wanted someone else to be sitting there. He had wanted to see Clarke. And Echo must have read that realization on his face, because she wasn't smiling. He sat down across from her in silence and she didn't stand to greet him.
The first words out of his mouth were, "I'm sorry."
"I understand, Bellamy."
"I have to go."
Echo laughed, though it wasn't a happy sound. "Where?"
"I have to find her," he said and he was whispering now.
"And then what?"
He shook his head. He hadn't thought that far along yet. But the question created an instant answer within him. "Then we run." Echo sighed, but he couldn't think. As soon as anyone caught wind of his idea, it might be all over. All he knew was that if matches had a 99.8% success rate, then he and Clarke had to be that 0.02%. They just had to be. "Coach," he asked, "where's Clarke?"
"I cannot provide you with information on previous matches."
Bellamy looked at Echo, pleadingly. It was too much to ask. But he was asking.
And she understood. "Coach, where is Clarke Griffin?" she said reluctantly.
Her device was silent for a moment. Then, it said, "Clarke Griffin is offline."
Then Bellamy threw Coach on the floor with all his might.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
Next thing he knew, he was running. He left Coach smashed on the ground, dodging waiters and guards as he left. He knew he could be caught any moment now. But if Clarke was offline… What could that mean? All he knew was that he had to find her. But where? Where could he even look?
There was only one place to try. So within minutes, he found himself at the door of a white apartment with alarmingly little security. When they'd been out walking one day, Clarke had pointed to a third-story window of a building and said that it was where she stayed in between matches. So here he was. Of course, if she'd been matched with someone else already, then it was over. He'd have no way of finding her. But he had to hope that the system had been kind to them in at least this small way.
He placed his hand on the knob and turned it. It wasn't locked. "Clarke?" he said, quickly walking inside and closing the door behind him. His voice sounded frightened.
There was a long silence in the white-walled apartment, but when he heard her voice call out, "Bellamy?" he knew that everything was going to be alright. When he saw her emerge from the bedroom, however, there was a look in her eyes that scared him.
"Why are you offline? What happened to your Coach?"
Clarke shrugged. "I smashed it."
Bellamy shook his head, but deep inside him he felt the faint stirrings of hope. "Why?"
Her eyes were distant, but there was a newfound clarity in them. "I was thinking about you. And how much I missed you." He wanted to tell her he felt the same, but she wasn't saying it for his benefit. Something else was going on. "And then I started thinking about my mom. And I realized that…" She looked at him. "Bellamy, I can't remember what she looks like."
Oh. So it was that kind of clarity. All thoughts of rebelling left his head for a moment. He just wanted to comfort his friend. "Clarke…"
"You told me about your sister," she said, meeting his eyes urgently, like she really wanted him to understand something. "What color are her eyes?"
Now Bellamy was confused. "What are you talking about?"
"Answer the question. Please."
"They're… I don't know. Brown, probably, like mine." He tried to picture Octavia's face, but he was surprised when he could only imagine the vague outline.
"Tell me a story about her," Clarke said. "Anything."
Bellamy was still confused, and almost wary now, but he played along. "When I was thirteen, I had to take care of her. I got a job -"
"Right, and you pretended you were fifteen. I've heard that story. Tell me something else. Maybe there was a game you used to play."
He was thinking that she was his sister, and of course they used to play together, but Bellamy couldn't for the life of him think of any childhood memory. "I don't understand," he said, and he sounded frightened. "What are you trying to tell me?"
"Everything you told me about your life. About your mom. About trying to pay rent. Do you remember any of that? You said you lived outside the wall. Can you even tell me what it looks like?"
And the answer came immediately. No, he couldn't. And those things he had told her felt like a story. A well-known one, or maybe a well-studied one, but it was as if someone had written it out for him. It hadn't felt like that at the time. It had felt instinctive. Automatic. Like he was reading a script. But instead of confronting that daunting truth, he said stubbornly, "I have a sister, Clarke. I had a mother."
"Maybe you do. But the thing is, I can't remember what I was doing the night before I met you. I can't remember a fucking thing." Silence hung heavily in the air between them as he started to understand what she was saying. "Tell me you remember," she said pleadingly.
He stepped closer to her. He didn't know what any of this meant. All he knew was that he trusted Clarke. And he would do whatever she thought was right. "I can't."
She looked at him, and he swore her eyes said that she trusted him back. "Coach, the system, everyone we've met. It's all a test."
"What sort of test?"
"I don't know. But I know one thing."
"What?" he whispered. "What do you know, Clarke?"
She touched her forehead to his, standing on her toes to do it. He closed his eyes, sinking into that touch. "I know how I feel about you. And if you're here and you're real, then… I'm with you, no matter what happens. So tell me. What do you want to do?"
His initial plan came back to him in full force. "You and me. Screw everyone else. Let's just go." And Clarke pulled away, nodding fiercely, and because she looked so beautiful and so determined, and because he didn't know when he'd get the chance again, he kissed her.
And this time, both of them sober and honest, knowing everything they could about each other, with all the end-of-the-world exhilaration pumping through their blood - this time, they shared the best kiss either of them had ever known. So if he was going to die tonight, he was going to die with Clarke. And Bellamy was more than fine with that.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
As they sped through the streets hand in hand, everyone stopped to look at them. He was prepared for a fight, but no one was stopping them. One of the guards did step in front of Clarke, taser at the ready, but before Bellamy could pull her away, she reached out her hand and touched the most dangerous part of the weapon. The spark sputtered and died against her palm. She looked over her shoulder at him and said, "I told you it was a test."
Now they knew they were safe, at least from the guards. But they ran anyway. And before long, they arrived at the wall. Directly in front of them was a very long ladder and the only place to go was up."I love you, Bellamy," Clarke said, and he knew she was saying goodbye, that she was worried about whatever waited for them on the other side.
Before he could answer, she started climbing. As soon as she was far enough up the ladder, Bellamy started climbing too. But the minute both his feet were off the ground and on the rung, the world around them started to disappear.
Like something warm settling in his chest, Bellamy suddenly stopped feeling any panic. He wasn't climbing anymore. He was standing on solid ground, but there was nothing on either side of him except for blackness. Clarke curled her fingers around his gently and a spark of light appeared over their heads. He looked up to see a glowing number: 1. From the look on Clarke's face, he could tell she didn't know what that meant. But she knew, as he knew, that it wasn't a bad thing.
And then, second by second, more versions of themselves started appearing in front of them. Two, three, four. Bellamy closed his eyes for a minute and when he opened them again, the numbers were well into the four-hundreds. He could see her all around him. Clarke with long hair, Clarke with her hair pinned back, Clarke with pink streaks at the tips, young and old. And he saw himself too. Bellamy, with slicked back hair, with his curls as wild as ever, with his beard and without his beard. And each version of himself was holding hands with Clarke.
The arrivals started dwindling and dwindling until one final pair joined the crowd, looking dazed and happy. Looking like they had just run for their lives together as Bellamy knew that they had. Bellamy figured their expressions mirrored his own. But there was one notable difference between them. They had the number 998 hovering over their heads. As soon as they joined the crowd of Bellamys and Clarkes, a great white light opened up above them. It took him a moment to realize that it was a screen. And on the screen were the words: 998 OUT OF 1000 REBELLED.
It all made sense now. Of course Clarke was right. It had been a test - and they had passed.
He looked at the girl beside him, and there was so much he still didn't understand. But he knew he loved her. And he knew she loved him. And he knew that they had found each other, and that they had saved each other. He knew that no matter what happened next, they would be together. So as he went to embrace the princess he had once hated so much, for what he believed to be the last time, he felt himself fading away, being pulled up towards the screen. He felt himself becoming one with the system and knew, with the slightest pang of sadness, that this journey, at least, was over.
Well. What a surprise. It looked as if Coach had found him his perfect match after all.
-::-::-::-::-::-::-
On a different world in a crowded bar, Clarke Griffin checks her phone. There is a man on the screen with curly hair and a scattering of freckles. It feels like she knows him. And right under his name are the words: 99.8% COMPATIBLE.
When she looks up, he is standing there, smiling at her. She knows that he has just see her face too.,
So, as Clarke makes her way over to the man at the bar and the rest of her life, she decides that she likes her odds. And she hopes he likes his too.
