Heaven Can't Wait - Chapter 9
20 Jan 2018 10:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jennickels
The mood kind of crashes after that.
Miller coughs. “On that note.” He looks like he wants to say more but just turns and leaves.
Bellamy and Clarke lean against the table, shoulders brushing. He fingers one of the holes in his jacket. There are a lot of them. “Lucky my mom was a seamstress, huh?” he says, hoping to break the tension.
Clarke smiles sadly. It’s clear her mind is somewhere else. Bellamy takes the opportunity to watch her unabashed.
Her hair is pulled back away from her face the way she used to wear it, flooding Bellamy with a pleasant string of memories. But there are dark circles under her eyes like just about everyone in Arkadia. The haunted look on her face breaks his heart. He hates seeing her hurting like this. Especially since it’s something that can’t be fought with a gun. Something he can’t fix.
“Penny for your thoughts, princess?”
She startles—her hand going to a pendant around her neck that he’s never seen before. “What?”
He smiles. “I was just wondering what you were thinking about. You’re awfully quiet.”
“Just tired, I guess. It’s like one catastrophe after another around here.” She glances at the girl as if to prove her point. “I don’t seem to get any rest.”
Tell me about it. “What did I miss while I was gone?”
“You want the long version or the short?”
“Better go with the short or we’ll be here all night.”
She laughs at that, relaxing some. “Five of the teams brought back refugees. Twelve of them, including seven children. Some of them are already sick, but the grounders won’t let my mom look at them. The ability to feed and produce enough water for everyone is a concern.”
“In other words, Raven’s on the rampage.”
“To put it lightly.” She fiddles absently with her necklace again, eyes distant. “Security is turning into a headache, too.”
“The grounders barely trusted us before, and now they’re forced to live with us,” he says, guessing the issue. “On our turf.”
Clarke nods. “Tensions are running high already, and we haven’t even closed the doors yet. There was a fight yesterday between a couple of Trikru and some people from Farm Station.”
The pain between Bellamy’s eyes grows. “How bad was it?”
“Kane got there before it became a full-blown riot. We had to separate them in lockup so they wouldn’t kill each other, though, and now we have to figure out what to do with them that satisfies both group’s idea of justice. It’s not going to be easy.”
“I’ll take care of it,” he says with a sigh, “but things are only going to get worse. It’ll be a damn miracle if we even make it a year.”
Clarke snorts. “That’s incredibly optimistic of you.” Her hand goes back to the necklace. Bellamy’s not sure she realizes she’s even doing it.
He tilts his head to get a better look. “That’s pretty. Did your mom give it to you?”
Clarke drops her hands to her sides. “No,” she mumbles. “It’s nothing. Just something someone gave me. It’s not a big deal.”
“Okay,” he drawls, eyebrows shooting up. Based on the amount of defensiveness, I’m going to guess Lexa. After everything they’ve been through, Lexa is the one topic Clarke won’t broach with him. It’s only been four months, he reminds himself. She’ll talk about it when she’s ready. So he keeps his mouth shut, and thankfully, Clarke changes the subject.
“I should go. I’m supposed to meet with Kane and Jaha in a little bit,” she says, pushing off from the table with a small smile. “You look tired and-” She gestures at the girl drooling on his clean shirt.
Bellamy doesn’t want her to leave—not with the storm of emotions between them right now—but he doesn’t ask her to stay. That’s how most of their conversations end lately—things get uncomfortable and Clarke walks away. He really doesn’t want to get into an argument with her right now so he forces the disappointment from his voice. “Yeah, It’s been a long day.”
“It’s nine in the morning.”
“Exactly.”
Clarke laughs. And just like that, the tension drains from the room. She walks over to the bed and makes it up for him. Bellamy lies down, adjusting the girl on his chest. She squirms a little but doesn’t wake up.
“You going to be okay?” Clarke asks.
He glances down at the girl then back up at Clarke. “Yeah, I got this. Go take care of business, Clarke, before this place falls down around us. And I mean that with the utmost respect. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
She ducks her head as pink rushes into her cheeks. When she pats his arm, her hand lingers on his bicep longer than usual. He tries to ignore the warmth that radiates out from the spot. “Get some sleep, Bellamy,” she whispers. “You deserve it. I’ll check back later.”
The thought leaves a fluttery feeling in his stomach. You’d think he’d be accustomed to it by now, but it leaves him confused and flustered every time. And wanting more. He groans. This is ridiculous—I’m too old for butterflies and crushes. But it’s getting harder and harder for him to deny the way his pulse speeds up whenever Clarke gives him that shy smile or the way his head spins when she hugs him.
He swallows hard. “I am so screwed.”
Just then, the doors to the Medbay whoosh open, startling the girl awake. Raven storms in, ready for a fight.
“Abby, what is this message? Another ration request? I told you we don’t have the supplies. I know you and Clarke want to save everyone, but we just can’t. We-” Her voice trails off when she notices the crying. “-need to think about saving the people already here,” she finishes, flatly.
“You scared her,” Bellamy says, trying to quiet the girl.
“Oh.” Raven moves a little closer but keeps her distance as if the girl might carry the plague. “Uh, sorry?”
She looks like she wants to say more, but Abby appears out of nowhere. “What’s going on? I heard crying.”
Bellamy shifts the girl higher until she can reach the hair at the back of his neck. That seems to do the trick. “Raven’s here to discuss our supply situation.”
“This is who you need the rations for?”
Abby crosses her arms and nods. “You’ll need to do your magic and allocate her some rations or I’m afraid Bellamy will starve to death. He’s already offered up today and tomorrow’s.”
Bellamy flushes. “I’ll be fine. I’ve done it before.”
“This is different, Bellamy. We’re already on half-rations. Half of half isn’t a sustainable diet.”
There’s an edge of desperation to her words, but he won’t give in. “I don’t care.”
“Bellamy-” They stare each other down for several tense moments before Abby throws up her hands. Ha.
“Abby,” Raven says, jerking her head to the side, “can I talk to you?”
Bellamy tries to ignore their hushed argument from across the room. Nothing about this situation is ideal. He knows the odds are against them. Against him. It would be a lot easier to just hand the girl off to the nearest grounder and be done with her, but the thought makes him sick. He wants better for her. Needs better. I need to know she’ll be safe.
The little girl stirs, exhaling a warm puff of air against his neck. Bellamy brushes his lips across the top of her head, leaving a soft kiss. He can feel the tiny tears in his soul mending. Fragments of his heart fitting back together. He hasn’t felt this whole in a very long time, and it frightens him. There is no way this ends well for me—I’m in way too deep.
Tears prick the corners of his eyes. For some reason, he really misses his mom right now. She’d know what to do. He closes his eyes, squeezing back the tears. When that doesn’t work, he throws an arm over his face, hoping no one will notice.
He must drift off to sleep because the next time he opens his eyes, there’s a soft blanket covering the both of them and two plastic-wrapped rations on the bedside table.
