Heaven Can't Wait - Chapter 45
12 Dec 2020 10:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jennickels
Chapter Forty-Five - You Don’t Have to Like It
Bellamy stops by the Guard office on the way to the stockade to grab his tablet. The coffee table is still littered with paper and nubby pencils and crayons. He gathers the art supplies into neat piles then picks up the picture from the top of the stack. It’s mostly scribbles in blues and greens, but it almost looks like trees and a lake. And maybe some people. Tears prick his eyes. He quickly wipes them away then pins the picture to the wall next to the desk.
Down in the stockade, the Grounders are huddled against the far wall. Bellamy doesn’t see a pillow or blanket between them. There aren’t even cots in the holding cell. There should be cots. The Guards on duty are Donaldson and Copenhagen. They eye him as he comes in. Kane hasn’t formally announced him as Commander of the Guard, but everyone knew he was on the shortlist. Well, the only name on the list.
“Have they eaten?”
“What?” Donaldson asks, glancing at the Grounders.
“Have they been given rations today?”
Copenhagen shakes his head. “The Mess hasn’t opened yet.”
Bellamy nods then punches his code into the door.
“Uh-” Copenhagen says, stepping closer. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to have a conversation.”
“They’re dangerous.”
Bellamy slams the door behind him. “So am I.”
The Grounders stand, obviously on the defensive. It only takes a few seconds to understand their wariness. The bruises and cuts on their faces aren’t from a few days ago. Not by a long shot. Ice runs through his veins. He doesn’t want to believe his Guard could do this, but he knows they would. At least some of them.
“I’m Bellamy Blake,” he starts, but the taller one interrupts.
“We know who you are. My brother marched with Indra to protect Arkadia from Azgeda.” He spits at Bellamy’s feet.
You knew this wouldn’t be easy.
He takes a deep breath, centering himself before the panic can tilt the world. “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m the Head of Security so you’re just going to have to deal with me right now.”
The Grounder scoffs but doesn’t comment. His friend with the flaming red hair is tense but intent.
“I’m investigating the attack in the yard from last week.”
“Investigating?” asks the red-head. “Why? We’ve already been tried and convicted, no?”
“No.” Bellamy flips through his reports until he finds their names. Davish, is it?” He glances at the taller one. “And Callum.”
They both nod.
“You’re Trikru?”
“Yes,” Callum says through his teeth.
Bellamy can see their hackles rising already. He puts his hand up. “I want you to know that I was out in the yard that day, and I don’t believe for a second you started this.”
They shoot each other confused looks. “You don’t?” asks Davish.
“No, and I want to offer an apology for the mistreatment you’ve endured. All I need are statements from each of you about that day and your experience in Lockup then you’re free to go. I hope you won’t hold this against the majority of the population. Tensions are already high, and we need to get along for the next five years.”
Callum crosses his arms defiantly, eyes hard. Davish, though, steps forward with a nod. “We understand. Things haven’t always been good between our people—there have been many… misunderstandings and misconduct since our first meeting.”
That almost sounds like an apology in there. Bellamy nods in acknowledgment. Both sides made mistakes, not they have to live with the consequences. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Maybe this whole situation can be salvaged.
“So what are you doing about the men that attacked us?” Callum asks, interrupting the thoughtful moment.
“We’re still trying to pin down the culprits which is why I need your statements. Once they’re caught, they’ll be appropriately disciplined.”
Callum snorts. “Skaikru discipline. A slap on the wrist.”
Davish puts a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “We are guests here.”
Bellamy takes a deep breath. “Chancellor Kane is going to be sitting down with Indra to discuss laws that will satisfy both of our justice systems. We will get to the bottom of this, and if the individuals prove a threat to the survival of the group as a whole, they will be dealt with.”
Davish nods. “Then we’ll help as we can.”
“Thank you.”
Fifteen minutes later, Bellamy signals for Copenhagen to unlock the cage. The Grounders eye the guards but say nothing as they leave.
“Why did you do that?” Donaldson asks.
“Because they didn’t do anything wrong.”
“They knocked Clint’s teeth out.”
Bellamy narrows his eyes. “In self-defense. If procedure had been followed, we would have known that earlier.”
“Self defense, right,” Copenhagen mutters then he turns his glare on Bellamy. “Who gave you the authority to-”
“Chancellor Kane did. He made me Commander, and this is how it’s going to be. You will treat the Grounders with the same respect you would treat any Arkadian. Do I make myself clear?”
They both stare for a moment then nod, obviously unhappy with the situation. “Crystal,” Donaldson grumbles, tacking on a belated and clipped, “sir.”
“You don’t have to like it, but you will follow my orders or find another job. We can always use someone to mop up spills.”
Bellamy leaves with that threat hanging in the air. He doesn’t have time to deal with their whining. He watches the Grounders cross to their side of the station then heads back to the Guard office to go over their reports again. He’s had the title for less than an hour and already feels too old. It’s going to be a lot harder than he thought it would be.
* * *
He has no idea how much time has passed when his stomach suddenly growls and cramps. He tries to ignore it, but it just adds to his persistent headache. He can’t remember the last time he ate anything more than scraps. Abby is going to kill him if she finds out, but now he has no excuse to not eat his rations. He rubs at his burning eyes, glancing at the clock on his desk.
18:35
He blinks at the time display. After six already? How did that happen? No wonder his eyes hurt—he’s been going over these reports for hours. In between dealing with the petty squabbles that seem to pop up like clockwork every twenty minutes and going through the records of every member of the Guard, sorting out those loyal to Kane and those otherwise.
Then it hits him that he’s the boss and can leave whenever he wants. He smiles as he cleans up the desk and logs out of the tablet. So the job has some perks.
He’s halfway to Clarke’s when several people step out of a side-corridor right in his path. He stops short, eying them suspiciously. He recognizes a couple from Pike’s crew. And Olsen from the yard the other day. Bellamy frowns.
“You’re making a mistake,” one of the men says. “Those Grounders are dangerous.”
Anger blooms. “Those Grounders did nothing wrong.” He shoots Olsen—an active member of the Guard—an unmistakable look. The older man doesn’t even flinch. Bellamy does notice his hand slide down his leg to rest on his sidearm.
“It’s only a matter of time before they decide to take this place from us.”
Bellamy snorts. “A hundred Grounders are going to take control of the station from us? How do you figure that? Never mind that they need us to run it.”
“They will turn on us. You know that.”
A growl builds in the back of Bellamy’s throat. “If they do turn on us it will be our own fault.” He pushes through the group, determined to remain calm.
“You’re going to regret this,” one of them calls. The threat is unequivocal. The two men turn away, but Olsen continues to watch Bellamy, hand on his gun. Bellamy’s fingers twitch to reach for his own weapon. He doesn’t need a showdown in the middle of the hall, though. When it’s obvious Bellamy isn’t going to turn his back to him, Olsen follows his friends. Things are only going to get worse.
His mood has plummeted by the time he gets to Clarke’s. He hesitates before ringing her bell. She said to come back. Explicitly. She wants you to come back. This is good. Still, his stomach twists in anticipation. He can’t decide if it’s good or bad. He presses the buzzer before he can change his mind. The door opens a second later.
Clarke smiles up at him, setting nerves on fire with just a look. He glances down either side of the hall, but they’re alone. Before he can change his mind, he wraps his arm around her waist, lifting her from the ground, and kisses her like he’s always wanted. She squeaks in surprise, but seconds later, her fingers are in his hair making him groan. He walks her backward into the room. She slams the door, shoving him against it.
Damn.
If he could come home to this every night.
