Heaven Can't Wait - Chapter 38
24 Oct 2020 09:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jennickels
Chapter Thirty-Eight - Space is Limited
Hours pass with the lights alternating sporadically between off and sometimes, sorta, kind of on for a bit. So maybe David has no idea what he’s talking about. The thought calms Bellamy in a strange way but then guilt fills him because when was the last time anyone had that much faith in him? Your mother would be disappointed.
The thoughts swirl around his head, back-tracking on themselves in a torrential mess as he watches the candle burn low. So very few people ever had any faith in him. How am I supposed to have faith in myself? He can’t stop picturing all the people he couldn’t save—Charlotte and Diggs and Roma and Fox. So many more. God, so many more.
He blinks, eyes burning. The glow of the flame burned into his retinas follows his gaze over to Heaven snoring softly on the sofa. In all his plans for the future, not once did he see himself married let alone with a kid. Too risky. How do you explain to your wife that she can’t come into your mother’s quarters? Not to mention, if he moved out, they’d make his mother change to smaller quarters—more potential danger. No, the plan had been to graduate, become a guard, and keep his family safe. That’s all he needed to be happy. Right?
Who am I kidding?
Rubbing his face, he leans back, the chair creaking under his weight. He never considered getting married because he didn’t believe he’d make it long enough to find anyone to love.
And now? Maybe he found someone he could spend his life with, but he’s still not sure he’ll be around that long. His chest tightens at the thought. Their future is so precarious, he can’t even imagine what he’ll be doing a month from now, let alone a year. The Grounders still want him dead. Some of the Guard as well. And the planet itself is trying to kill them all. Between all of that and being locked in a tin can for five years—honestly, he doesn’t see any of them lasting more than a couple years if they’re lucky. They’ll tear each other apart before then. Or starve.
He forces his thoughts away from that terror, focusing on reports of other incidences from the past week. It’s all more of the same—high anxiety and frustration setting off clashes between neighbors. None of the reports are helping his mood. With the candle nearly burned out, he wakes Heaven who smiles up at him, eyes twinkling. She eagerly climbs into his arms, hugging Bae close, as Bellamy locks the office.
The halls are mostly empty. They pass a few patrolling guards, but no one else wants to be out in the dark. He considers calling Raven for another update, but he’s sure she’s got enough to deal with right now. He’ll check on her in the morning—make sure she’s not still blaming herself.
Of course she is. Because she’s Raven. Because she’s just like you.
They can hear the music as soon as they turn the corner to their corridor. Bellamy groans. Sure enough, a thumping bass rattles his door.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Heaven shoots him a curious look when they stop outside the door. He sets her down to type his code into the pad still lit with emergency power. The music blasts when he lets himself in. And the tiny room is packed with nearly a dozen people. Heaven holds her hands over her ears, peering around Bellamy’s legs. He sets what’s left of his candle next to a lamp on his bedside table. The two girls making out on his bed turn bright red and slide apart. Across the room, Miller, Bryan, and some other guy are watching something on a tablet and arguing animatedly. Harper is sitting on his dresser, Monty leaning against it between her legs. Three other kids he doesn’t know are sitting on his desk—his books, shoved to the floor. They barely notice him.
How the hell can these many people fit in this room?
The door suddenly shoves open, knocking Heaven into his knees.
“I’m baaack,” Jasper drawls. “And I come bearing-”
Bellamy crosses his arms, face set in a scowl at the box of bottles in Jasper’s arms.
The music cuts off at about the same time. “I thought you were working,” Miller says.
“I was. Now I’m not. What the hell is this?”
The two girls from his bed, scamper out of the room, giggling. The three kids on his desk teeter precariously, eyes drowsy. There’s a distinct smell in the air that makes him want to vomit. He glares even harder at Jasper. Jasper grins back.
“We’re just having a little fun,” Harper says, running her hands through Monty’s hair. “You remember fun, right.”
What?
The trio on the desk looks from Harper to Bellamy, a semblance of understanding dawning in their dull eyes.
“Out,” Bellamy growls, jaw tight.
“Oh come on,” Jasper says, bumping his arm and nearly dropping the box. “Have a drink. Relax a little. Chill.”
“I’m as chill as I’m going to get. Out. And that still will be shut down.” When he reaches for the box, Jasper backs into the hall, banging into Heaven on his way out. She hisses, baring her teeth. It’s adorable and manages to calm the anger building in his gut. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he calls after Jasper who sticks his tongue out at each of them. Heaven mirrors the move in the fiercest way possible.
One of the kids on the table snickers. Bellamy jerks his head after Jasper, holding the door open. They grumble as they slide off the desk and stumble into the hall. Monty tugs a reluctant Harper behind him.
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
Bellamy pats his back as he passes. The other unknown kid follows them, leaving Bellamy’s two roommates. Bryan grabs his jacket from the chair and pecks Miller on the cheek. “Come by later.”
The door shuts behind him. Miller crosses his arms over his chest and glares back at Bellamy. “This is my room, too,” he says through gritted teeth.
“It was mine first.”
“Really? That’s mature.”
Bellamy rubs the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to argue. Space is limited so we’re stuck with each other, but I’m tired, and I need to put Heaven to bed.”
Miller’s glare hardens further. “Right, Heaven. Maybe Heaven should get her own room.”
Heaven’s eyes narrow—a growl building in the back of her throat. She has no idea what they are saying, but she recognizes her own name and can probably tell by their tones it isn’t a pleasant conversation.
“Well, she’s not going to right now,” Bellamy says, resting his hand on her head before she gets any ideas about biting Miller again.
“I can’t believe you’re getting this bent out of shape over a kid. There are dozens of families in this station that could take her. And don’t give me that crap about her throwing a fit. She’ll get over it.”
“She’s like two. I’m not going to just toss her off. She had a traumatic experience.”
“I know—I was there. She seemed to be doing just fine until she met you. Now she’s a big baby.”
“What is your problem? She’s just a kid.”
“Not your kid. Do you even hear yourself, Bellamy? You’re getting too attached. You’re not her father so get over it.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“I said out. Go stay with your boyfriend.”
Bellamy moves to the side and waits for Miller to grab his stuff. His friend says nothing, only glares at Heaven as he leaves, slamming the door behind him. Bellamy sits with a sigh next to Heaven on the bed. “That could have gone better.”
Heaven pats his shoulder—a close approximation of a comforting look on her face. It makes him smile.
“Come on, let’s straighten up before we have dinner.”
Heaven follows him around the room as he picks up books and clothes. She haphazardly stacks items and shoves things into random drawers until the room at least looks neat. When they’re done, Bellamy kicks off his shoes and stretches out on the bed. Heaven does the same, wiggling her toes next to his knees. Bellamy digs a finger into her ribs until she giggles. He will never get tired of hearing that sound.
He pulls a granola bar out from the nightstand drawer and breaks off a piece for her. She immediately starts nibbling at it, sending crumbs down her chin. Bellamy laughs. “My mom never let us eat in bed. Every meal, even if it was just protein paste, she made us sit at the table and we’d discuss our day. Like things ever changed. It was so boring.”
He hands over another chunk of granola and brushes crumbs from her chest. “Of course, I’m kind of seeing her point now.”
Heaven licks each of her fingers then bats her eyelashes at him. He gives her another piece. Where did she learn that? He shakes his head. She devours the rest of the granola then eyes the last bit that Bellamy is planning on eating. He hands it to her. Abby can never hear of this.
Before the candle can burn out completely, Bellamy washes Heaven up and gets her ready for bed then he brushes the crumbs from the blankets. They snuggle up together with Miller’s discarded tablet. “This was my favorite as a kid,” he tells her as he queues up an animated movie from the archives. Heaven chatters away at Bae until the movie gets to the singing. She watches, eyes wide, as the characters dance and sing. She starts to sway back and forth against Bellamy’s side. When it ends, she taps the screen, obviously wanting more.
Bellamy just laughs and starts another one. It’s one of the better nights he’s had since landing on the ground. He drifts off to sleep towards the end of the movie, and thankfully, dreams of only of talking animals and knights saving princesses from dragons. Not unlike his childhood.
