jennickels: (100: bellamy)
[personal profile] jennickels


Chapter Twenty-Eight - There’s More Going On


When she’s finally done with Harper, Abby wheels her supply cart over to their table. “You two are my last patients.” She grins. “Until the next catastrophe anyway.”

Bellamy laughs, but he feels her stress. It’s always one thing after another on the ground. If they go longer than a week without an emergency, he’s shocked.

Abby turns her smile to Heaven. “Well, don’t you look adorable. I love the hair.” Her fingers skim over Heaven’s head then she pulls back the bangs.

“Oh, here,” Bellamy says, fishing the barrette out of his pocket. He tries to clip back her hair, but Heaven takes it out almost immediately.

Abby goes still, sparking Bellamy’s anxiety. “What? What’s wrong?”

A second later, Abby shakes herself out. “Nothing. Everything’s fine. Just a memory from another time. They sneak up on you sometimes.”

Bellamy doesn’t know what she means, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want to talk about it. His pulse slows now that his heart isn’t leaping into his throat. He needs to get a grip.

Heaven sits quietly, playing with Bae, while Abby cleans the few sores still left on her hands and legs where the jacket didn’t cover her. But when it’s time to check her face, she refuses to pull her gaze away from the doll. The more Abby tries to lift her chin to check her, the more Heaven fights to keep her eyes on Bae. Far from being frustrated, Abby just looks amused. Eventually, she gives up with an exaggerated sigh.

“Well, you’re almost completely healed,” she tells Heaven then smiles softly at Bellamy. “Probably because she didn’t get as much exposure. Thanks to you. You did a good job.”

Bellamy ducks his head. He wishes people would quit acting like he performed some kind of miracle. I just did what anyone would do.

“And what about you?” she says as she caps the last swab from Heaven.

“I’m fine,” he mumbles.

Abby huffs. “Uh-huh. What happened to your eye?” She gently presses around his eyebrow. “Did Clarke stitch this up?”

“Yeah. How can you tell?”

“Her knots are still messy. And slanting to the left.” She finishes with his eye. “Nothing feels broken. So?”

He sighs at her continued prodding. “There was a fight in the yard the other day. It’s not a big deal.”

“You mean that near-riot? I patched up half a dozen people after that. Everything from open head wounds to broken arms.” She gives him that reproachful, maternal look that makes him feel like he’s twelve, getting scolded for coming home late.

“Well, I’m fine.”

He has a feeling she’s biting back a lecture, but eventually, she returns to cleaning the burn marks on his face and arms. Most have scabbed over, but a few are still open and sore.

“These look worse—irritated. Have you been scratching at them?” she asks as she swabs a couple of the rawest ones on his neck.

Bellamy thinks of all the times Heaven’s little arms wrapped around his neck or her fingers pulled at the hair there. “Must be my jacket rubbing.

She finishes putting up the samples. “Well, you’re both looking good. The wounds are healing, and there’s no sign of infection. There’s just one last thing I need.” She pulls out a set of tubes and a syringe. “I have to take some blood samples to check your radiation levels. Should be quick-”

Heaven is already eyeing the needles. Well, this isn’t going to end well at all. Bellamy stays completely still as Abby draws his blood, hoping to convince Heaven to remain calm, but when Abby turns to her, she backs away, nearly falling off the table.

“It’ll be okay,” he tells her. “It doesn’t even hurt that bad.”

Heaven just glares—at him, at the needle, at Abby, at the world in general. Bellamy can’t imagine she’s ever had her blood drawn before, but she’s too smart for their goading. She clutches Bae and shakes her head emphatically.

Abby smiles, patting Heaven’s leg softly. “It’s okay—we can try another time. Considering how quickly the wounds are healing, I’m sure her levels are lowering just as fast. She might process radiation even better than you.”

Heaven finally relaxes—going back to playing with her doll—when Abby starts cleaning up her supplies, but she sits as close to Bellamy as she can without actually being in his lap.

With Heaven occupied, Abby turns her attention to Bellamy. “And how are you? Have you been handling thinks okay?”

The look she’s giving him says don’t patronize me. Bellamy swallows hard. What does she want me to say? He’s not even sure how he is. “Really, Abby, I’m fine.”

She frowns. “You’re eating.”

It isn’t even a question. Yes, Mom. Geesh. “I’ve been eating as much as anyone. I swear.”

Abby doesn’t look completely convinced, and he has a feeling she’s going to ask around to see if he’s lying or not, but she drops the subject at least. “And sleeping?”

He sighs. “Usually when Heaven naps.” He doesn’t tell her about the nightmares because those are nothing new. He needs to give her something, though, so she’ll stop pestering him. “My head’s been hurting.”

Her concern ratchets a notch. “For how long?”

Since we landed on the ground. Since I learned the world was ending again. Since I found Heaven and another reason to worry about everything. “A few days. It comes and goes.” Like whenever he thinks of Heaven leaving.

“That’s understandable, considering.” Abby unlocks the medicine cabinet and pulls out a bottle of painkillers. “No complaining. Take one when the pain worsens. Promise.”

She’s killing him. He takes the offered pills. “I will.”

“Trust me,” she says, glancing at Heaven. “Being a parent is a lot easier when your head isn’t pounding.”

Bellamy’s face heats up, but thankfully, Abby’s locking up the cabinet. Is it that obvious?

Yes.

He groans softly, hopping off the table with Heaven in his arms. “Thanks, Abby. I’ll let you know if the headache gets worse.” That should appease her for a while, right?

She cocks an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”

Or not.

The voice laughs at him.

“If you need anything, Bellamy. Anything—just ask. There are people that want to help you. Let us.”

He can’t get out of Medbay fast enough but is nearly bowled over at the door as several people stumble in, carrying someone between them. The man’s face is a mess of cuts and bruises, his eyes swelled shut, nose obviously broken.

“What happened?” Bellamy asks as they heave him onto the table.

“What do you think happened,” one of them shouts back. “The Grounders got to him.”

Bellamy frowns. “Why would the Grounders-”

“Because they’re Grounders. Savages. All they understand is war.”

Kane rushes in before Bellamy can ask anything else. He gives Bellamy a questioning look like he’s wondering if this means Bellamy’s ready to take the job. Bellamy spins on his heel and gets as far from Medbay as he can before Kane can get the wrong idea.

Except, is it the wrong idea?

Now Bellamy is thinking about it. It’s not like he didn’t see this coming—he knew the Grounders would retaliate for the incident in the yard—but something about it all isn’t sitting right with him. Savages. The same word Tyson used. He wants to think it’s a coincidence. He wants to believe their people are above the eye-for-an-eye mentality, but he knows it’s not true. Not by a long shot. If anything, they have a lot more in common with the Grounders than they’d care to admit.

There’s more going on—he can feel it but has no idea if he can prove it. Not before the kettle boils over and they rip each other apart.

Five years? They aren’t going to make it five months.


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