Heaven Can't Wait - Chapter 36

[jennickels]

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Chapter Thirty-Six - Show a Little Respect

The mess hall is quiet when they get there. It’s in between meals and obvious word’s already traveled. People are in shock and scared. It’s a vivid reminder of why they’re in here. The tension in the room would need a chainsaw to get through it.

Bellamy finds Harper and Monty sitting at a table drinking tea. More like staring into their steaming mugs. He sets Heaven across from them and digs her uneaten apples from his pocket. She immediately gets to feeding Bae. Nobody says anything for a long time.

“Is it as bad as they’re saying?” Harper finally asks.

Bellamy rubs his face. “Seven dead. They were still working on Jaha when I left. It doesn’t look good, though.”

Harper huffs. “Good. If anyone deserves to die, it’s that asshole.”

Monty slams his hand onto the table, getting the attention of just about everyone in the room. “Show a little respect,” he growls. There’s a twinge of danger in his voice Bellamy’s never heard before. “He nearly died fixing the station for you. Risking his life so you can have lights. Not all of them were so lucky.”

The color drains from Harper’s face, but she grits her teeth. “He got hundreds killed with his stupid City of Light. He’s-”

“And I murdered three hundred eighty-five people in Mt. Weather. We’ve all killed. Some of us more than others. At least Jaha can say he was under the influence of the psychotropic effects of ALIE. I only have myself to blame.” Monty visibly shakes with barely contained fury.

“Monty,” Harper says weakly, reaching for him, but he turns away.

She looks to Bellamy, obviously confused by Monty’s outburst. Bellamy’s stomach sours and knots. Has Monty been feeling that way the entire time? God, why didn’t I pay more attention? Bellamy wishes he knew what to say, but he’s not sure there even is anything.

People at other tables whisper and look over their shoulders at them. Bellamy presses a thumb between his eyes, groaning internally. It’s been one catastrophe after another. Guilt gnaws at him. His friends are falling apart, and he was too wrapped up in his own pathetic life to notice. He glances at Heaven who’s watching them with a furrowed brow. Maybe not so pathetic. But that isn’t going to last much longer. Then what excuse will I have?

A chair screeches across the floor. Murphy spins it around, straddling it at the end of the table, a bottle of water twisting in his hands.

Harper glares at him. “What do you want?”

The water bottle slams onto the table. “What is your problem, McIntyre?”

“You are always my problem, Murphy.”

“I’m honored to be in your thoughts so often, but you’re not my type,” he says with a smirk.

“Murphy,” Bellamy warns, with a sigh. “Do you need something?”

“I thought you’d want an update on Raven.” The plastic bottle crinkles in his hands.

“How is she?”

“Abby gave her something to calm down when they wouldn’t let her in MedBay. I took her back to Engineering. She didn’t need to sit there wallowing in her guilt. She said she was fine, but I wouldn’t leave her alone for too long, though.”

“I’ll go check on her,” Monty murmurs, shoulders slumped like the weight of the world rests on them.

Harper follows him, but when he shakes off her hand, she leaves the other way.

Bellamy sighs. “Thanks, Murphy, I appreciate it.”

Murphy shrugs like it’s no big deal then reaches across the table, pulling Harper and Monty’s discarded tea over, placing one in front of Bellamy and sipping the other. Bellamy just stares at it.

“Don’t tell me you’re this upset about Jaha, too. I get Raven—they’ve been working together for years—but you?”

Bellamy ignores the comment. “I didn’t get much sleep.”

“Kid keeping you up?”

Bellamy glances at Heaven who’s playing with her food, pretending to feed it to her doll. “No, my demons.”

Murphy looks like he wants to say more, but Clarke appears at the other side of the table and sits with a ration bar, face bleak. “I missed breakfast,” she tells them but makes no attempt to eat.

“Well, you didn’t miss much,” Murphy says like nothing is wrong. “Or so I heard. I got roped into sorting shit in Engineering again.” He glares at his water bottle.

“Here,” says Clarke. She slides the ration to Murphy. “I don’t think I can eat anyway.”

He rips a chunk off, popping it in his mouth then takes the tea from Bellamy and sets it in front of Clarke. “You should drink that—you look like you need it.”

Clarke stares at it a moment, pale and glassy-eyed, before taking a sip. “Jaha didn’t make it,” she whispers after putting down the cup.

Murphy’s hand pauses halfway to his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything.

Oh god. She was helping in MedBay. Bellamy’s seen what the rain does to people—it’s something he can never unsee. Without thinking, he reaches across the table and squeezes her hand. She flips hers over, gripping his fingers.

A jolt shoots up his arm, setting off the butterflies again which are both comforting and inappropriate. Now isn’t the time. Clarke just needs a friend to lean on not a pining fool. Heaven eyes their hands, chewing her apple violently. Murphy continues to act like everything is normal, eating his ration bar, eyes distant.

The whole scene is surreal and yet feels perfectly natural—like the four of them have lunch together every day. There’s a small part of him that wishes it were true.

Then Niylah joins them.

Bellamy’s butterflies turn to lead. He pulls his hand slowly from Clarke’s, pretending he needs to help Heaven with something as an excuse—not that Clarke notices. Niylah asks Clarke something in Grounder. Clarke whispers back then the other woman pulls her into a hug. Bellamy’s stomach is a black hole of emotion, sucking his lungs and heart down into it until it’s hard to breathe. When he looks up, Murphy’s watching him, and he swears there’s pity in his eyes. And understanding. What’s that about?

Before he can figure it out, Murphy stands suddenly, breaking the awkward tension at the table. He tosses the rest of his rations at Heaven. “See, this is called sharing, kid. You should learn it some time.” Heaven glares at Murphy then the food then Murphy again before grabbing the ration bar to add to her collection. Murphy snorts. “I’m gonna go check on Emori. She doesn’t like to leave our quarters alone.”

“Why not?” Clarke asks.

He doesn’t say anything for a long moment like he’s trying to figure out if Clarke is serious or not. Then lets out a breath. “It’s not safe for her. In case you hadn’t noticed, they’re not particularly welcoming towards Grounders around here.”

“And,” Niylah adds softly, “the other Grounders still see her as an outcast. She won’t be welcome there either.”

“No, she’s not,” Murphy agrees, bitterly.

Bellamy frowns. “Has anything happened to her? Has anyone been hassling her?” He looks at Niylah. “Or you?”

Murphy huffs. “Who doesn’t hassle her. If it isn’t because she’s a Grounder, it’s because she’s my girlfriend. I’m not exactly popular.”

Niylah shakes her head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“There have been some attacks—on both sides. I told Indra I’d try to figure out who’s behind them, so if anything happens, let me know.”

“Just call him Sherlock Blake,” Murphy says, laughing dryly.

Bellamy shoots him a warning look. “Didn’t you have someplace to be?”

Murphy puts his hands up as he walks away. “I’m going. No need to get the cuffs out.”

Bellamy’s retort dies on his tongue as the lights go out again. Heaven squawks along with half the mess hall. Without exterior windows, it’s pitch black until someone lights a candle across the room. Bellamy lets his head fall against the table. “This day just gets better and better,” he mumbles. Clarke doesn’t offer a comforting hand.

For some reason, that hurts more than he thinks it should.

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