Weathering the World, Jasper/Bellamy, R (The100) - Part 1/5

[innerslytherin]

We, um, seem to have found a new fandom. :D

Title: Weathering the World
Authors: innerslytherin & severity_softly
Fandom: The 100
Pairing/Characters: Jasper/Bellamy, Monty, Octavia, Lincoln, Raven
Rating: R (for violence/blood, lots of drunkenness, and language)
WC: ~43,400
Notes: Set immediately after the season two finale, "Blood Must Have Blood: Part 2". Inspired in part by Jasper spoilers in this article for the season three premiere. Also, we realize we're posting this just the day before the season three premiere, so it will very likely be AU very quickly. Read fast! ;)
Summary: After Maya's death, Jasper becomes reckless… But Bellamy refuses to let him destroy himself.

Jasper was almost killed the day after the dropship landed. Now he wished that Clarke and the others had just let him die.

Sure, it sucked. Getting speared in the chest was not near the top of his list of things to do, and neither was getting hung in a tree as bait. Days of agony while infection wracked his body wasn't any fun either, but it was still better than this.

Maya was gone. He had held her in his arms while she died, and watched as the life left her body, her beautiful face covered in radiation burns. He had promised her that he wouldn't let her die.

Clarke and Bellamy, even Monty to a degree, had made him a liar.

And they were "sorry".

Sorry didn't mean shit.

Jasper was going to kill Cage, if they'd only given him a little more time. And now Maya was gone.

Jasper liked to think that if Clarke hadn't run away like a coward, he would have made her pay. But he mostly thought that when he was drunk. Which was a lot these days. Even drunk, though, shame crept into his mind at the thought of hurting his friends for what they did.

Or were they former friends?

Jasper wasn't really sure anymore.

He tilted his head back to stare at the dark sky, then let out a howl at the top of his lungs. It echoed around the forest, bouncing off the trees. He had left the camp in the middle of the night, sneaking past the guards, and gotten hammered under a huge tree that scratched at his back in a way that was uncomfortable, until the pleasant numbness of the hooch crept across his skin. Once that happened, the taste was almost bearable.

He screamed again until he went hoarse. He wanted the Grounders to find him. It was far less emotionally complicated to take his anger out on them than on anyone back at the camp. He wanted physical pain to replace emotional pain for a while. Hell, maybe they'd kill him and put him out of his misery entirely.

One could hope.

To Jasper's dismay, the crunching of leaves that suddenly pricked his ears didn't come from Grounders, though. A blurry vision of Bellamy appeared from around a corner, his lips downturned and a frown knitting his brow.

"Go away," Jasper slurred, thumping his head back against the tree, hard enough to make his vision swim momentarily. He closed his eyes and tried to wish Bellamy out of existence. With his eyes closed, his body hummed on the verge of unpleasantness.

Bellamy wasn't very good at taking orders, though. Not from anyone except Clarke, anyway. Bellamy's footsteps didn't walk away from Jasper; they walked toward him. When Bellamy stopped, his voice was disgusted.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed? Because I guarantee you, the Grounders will be happy to oblige. Since they didn't finish the job last time."

Jasper sighed. Now what? He supposed he could tell Bellamy that he didn't care if he did die, but that seemed a little more open and honest than he felt like Bellamy deserved.

He opened his eyes and rolled his head to the side to get a better look at Bellamy. Then he glanced around to see if Bellamy brought company.

No one.

Jasper wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.

He looked back at Bellamy, his eyes moving up and down over him, lingering maybe too long on Bellamy's gun before meeting his eyes again.

He had taken too long to reply.

He fixed his expression into one he hoped looked defiant. "Why does it matter to you? Unless you want the honor yourself?"

Bellamy sighed and crouched in front of him, just out of arm's reach. Jasper wasn't sure if Bellamy thought he was going to go for the gun, or if he expected Jasper to punch him. Or maybe throw up on him.

"Come on, Jasper, don't be stupid. You're one of us." He glanced around, still vigilant even though he was arguing with Jasper. "One of us from the beginning. You saved my sister our first day. You think I want anything to happen to you?"

He rocked back on his heels. "But I don't really feel like fighting Grounders tonight, so if you could keep it down, that'd be helpful."

Jasper felt his expression soften a little as he thought of Octavia, and the first night they'd spent on the ground, her sleeping with her head resting on his chest. It was the first time Jasper had ever felt like a hero. That felt like so long ago now, though, and all the childish attraction he'd felt for Bellamy's sister seemed so insignificant compared to how Maya had made him feel.

He felt some of the tension leave his body. His anger wasn't really ebbing, but he must've drank faster than he realized because he was feeling progressively more drunk even though he'd ran out of booze what felt like a while ago. It was sapping his strength.

"Anyone but you," he muttered.

Bellamy didn't say anything for a while. He looked out at the darkness, his shoulders straight. Jasper had just started hoping Bellamy might get offended and leave when the other boy sighed.

"Yeah. But I'm the only one around, so you're stuck with me." He lifted one hand to rub the back of his head. "I know you must hate me. I deserve it. But I don't hate you, so I'm damned if I leave you out here by yourself for the Grounders."

Jasper glared at Bellamy for a moment, then looked away. The trees rustled in the breeze, and Jasper took a deep breath. He wondered if this is what the air had smelled like before the nuclear apocalypse. They were deep in the woods, and it occurred to him that no one at camp could have possibly heard him scream so far away.

"How did you find me?" he asked, slightly aware that his voice was slow and deliberate as he tried not to slur. "Were you watching me?"

"Uh, you were shouting?" Bellamy said, as if it should have been obvious. He looked around again. "Loud enough to wake the--" He broke off as if just realizing what he was saying, then finished, lamely, "dead." Bellamy sighed. "Shit."

Jasper felt his body tense again, and he turned to glare at Bellamy. "Not close enough to wake the camp," he snapped back.

"The grownups?" Bellamy said sarcastically. "No, definitely not. They're so damn comfortable, thinking that was the end of it. You and I know better. I don't give a shit whether Kane and Abby think it's over. We know this world is never going to stop trying to kill us. So I patrol every night I can, whether or not they like it."

His voice softened slightly. "And I heard someone screaming like they were being tortured, so I came to save him. You."

"Being tortured would be better," Jasper admitted, and immediately regretted it. He shifted forward and staggered to his feet, wanting to get away from his sudden honesty. Then he stumbled a few feet and fell on his knees. "You should have left me," he gasped, on the verge of shouting again. His eyes started to string, and he forcefully told himself to pull himself together.

Bellamy lunged, free hand outstretched, but he was too late to catch Jasper and obviously thought better of it, so he stood there, looking like an idiot, gun in one hand, mouth open. "Like you left my sister to be eaten by a...giant river snake thing?" he said. "I didn't know it was you screaming, but even if I had, I wouldn't have left you." He shoved his free hand behind his back. "Damn it, Jasper, at least sit down."

"You don't owe me anything for saving Octavia," Jasper breathed. He sat back on his heels and gauged his chances of staying upright if he stood again. "She's a good person," he spat, pushing anguish away so quickly that anger returned. He wanted to hurt Bellamy suddenly. He didn't want Bellamy's insistence that he didn't hate him, or that he was worth saving, or that he was one of them to make his defenses drop. Even if hot tears still burned his face.

He defiantly pushed himself to his feet, swayed, and then braced himself on the closest tree, glancing back to see if his insult landed.

"Yeah, she is." Bellamy's voice dropped so low Jasper almost couldn't hear him. "I bear it so she doesn't have to." His shoulders slumped. After a long moment, Bellamy shook himself.

"But she wouldn't want you to get hurt, so unless you go back to camp, I'm going to follow you around to keep you alive."

Jasper laughed for the first time in a while, but it was low and he couldn't muster a smile. "Did you consider if Octavia would want me hurt when you flipped the switch at Mount Weather?"

Bellamy went still. For the first time in their conversation, he dropped his gaze to the ground instead of watching around them for threats. "I considered a lot of things," he said, his voice choked. "I considered that they were about to kill my sister. My sister. My responsibility. I considered that they were killing Clarke's mom, and had killed Fox."

Bellamy's breathing was ragged. Jasper could hear it from where he stood. "I hate what I did, Jasper. I hate it. But I would do it again, because I don't know any other way any of our people could have survived Mount Weather."

Jasper felt his face twist when Bellamy said he'd do it again, unable to disguise the pain it caused. He almost didn't hear the rest of what Bellamy said. Turning, he leaned against the tree, facing away from Bellamy to hide how much that hurt. "I was going to kill Cage!" he shouted, then lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "I could have."

"I know." He heard Bellamy take a step closer, and he tensed. If Bellamy touched him, Jasper was going to punch him. "I know you were. I know you could." Bellamy laughed, but it was a hopeless, bitter sound. "But they had my sister, Jasper. I wasn't sure if you'd be in time. And I--She's my sister. My responsibility."

Tears were starting to roll down Jasper's face again. His nose was starting to run too, as he lost control, but he refused to sniffle and make it obvious to Bellamy that he was starting to fall apart. He lifted a hand and wiped at his face anyway. "You know-- You know I don't want Octavia hurt." He huffed a breath, trying to keep himself from shaking. "You know." He swallowed hard. Damn it, he just wished Bellamy would let him walk into a Grounder camp and die. "But all those people. All those innocent people… Maya."

None of us is innocent, Maya had said. It was the last thing she said.

No. She was wrong. She was.

"She helped us."

Bellamy let out a hoarse noise, something between a laugh and a sob. Jasper hated him for being unhappy. What right did Bellamy have to be unhappy?

"Innocent!" Bellamy said. "Okay, Maya, sure. Maybe. But the rest of them? How many of them knew they were draining Grounders for their blood? Or that they were going to kill our people just to let themselves move to the surface?" He huffed in disgust. "We're not much better. I know that, even if I pretend not to. But if I have to pick between us and them… Ah, damn it, Jasper. We were running out of time. Clarke had already decided. I couldn't have stopped her, even if I wanted to."

His tone of voice made it clear he hadn't wanted to.

Jasper wasn't sure he cared right now.

"Yes, you could have," Jasper said. He wasn't sure it was true. He wiped his face again and slid down the tree trunk without turning around. Bark broke off against his clothes, but he ignored it. "Did you even try?"

Bellamy didn't answer for a moment. "I tried," he said finally. "I used the same arguments you just did. There were kids in there. People who helped us." He made a noise that was definitely a sob, but he coughed like he was trying to cover it. "But Clarke asked if I had a better idea. And I didn't." He sighed. "I didn't."

Jasper knew he meant it.

He still didn't know if he cared.

His emotions were all over the place, and he wished he could blame it completely on alcohol, but he couldn't. "I'll walk back to camp with you on one condition." He didn't wait for Bellamy to ask what it was. "You never talk to me again."

"I--" Bellamy paused. "Jasper. I--I can't--" He blew out a loud breath. "And what if I find you out here screaming at the top of your lungs because you're drunk off your ass again, huh? You expect me not to talk to you then? What the--" He broke off. "Ahh, come on. How can I promise that?"

"Next time, let me die. Let me scream until the Grounders find me," Jasper said, finally admitting in a round-a-bout way why he was screaming in the first place. "Just leave me alone and let me die." He sobbed in the middle of the last word before he could stop himself, clasping a hand against his mouth.

Bellamy knelt in front of him, one hand gripping Jasper's shoulder. "I am not going to let you die," he said fiercely. "Not a chance, Jasper. We can get through this."

Jasper thought about jerking away from Bellamy, but he knew he'd probably fall out of the crouch he was in and onto his ass. He couldn't stem the flow of tears either, so he just lifted his other hand to his face and cried into his palms. He leaned into Bellamy's grip, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach as he did and telling himself it was just for balance.

"What if I can't?" he managed, then shook his head quickly, hoping Bellamy would take the cue and ignore that question. "Have you ever been in love, Bellamy?"

Jasper thought hard. He hadn't known Bellamy well on the Ark. Bellamy hadn't been in lockup, and Jasper had avoided the wannabe guard when he and Monty were selling their herb. From what he knew now, though, looking back, Bellamy had probably been too preoccupied with his sister to date. And since they'd been on the ground, his focus had been his sister and staying alive.

"No." Bellamy squeezed Jasper's shoulder once and let go. "When was there time to fall in love?" His voice sounded odd. "Looking after Octavia was my life. Still is. Even if she doesn't always want me looking after her."

Jasper huffed a breath, and rocked back to sit. It wasn't particularly graceful, but he was sitting. "She's not a little girl anymore," he murmured, eyeing Bellamy for a moment, wondering why he'd sounded strange a moment ago. Jasper's mind was spinning, though, so he quickly gave up.

He glanced away at the empty bottle a few feet away, wishing it wasn't empty. "She's strong." He sniffed hard and wiped his face, feeling like the crying was starting to come to an end. "Stronger than me."

Bellamy's laugh almost sounded normal. "She's stronger than any of us." He lifted his head to look around them, his gaze going everywhere except to meet Jasper's.

Jasper quirked his lips to the side and watched Bellamy avoid his eyes for a long moment, wondering again what Bellamy was thinking. A moment later, he thought fuck it. "What?"

Bellamy finally glanced at him, then flicked his gaze away. "I don't want to never talk to you again, Jasper. I don't...I mean. I've already lost Clarke. And I know you hate Clarke right now, but I--" He shook his head. "And I don't want to lose you too."

Jasper frowned and wiped a hand down his face. "How do you expect--" He clenched his jaw, but he was too drunk and he was starting to feel like sleeping was a better idea than fighting.

"I don't expect anything," Bellamy replied quickly. "I just…" He pressed his lips together. "I just can't promise never to talk to you again. Not never." He looked at Jasper again, holding his gaze this time. "Please."

Jasper stared at him. He didn't want to forgive Bellamy. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But Bellamy's eyes were sincere. After a moment, Jasper had to look away. "I need to sleep," he said, unwilling to give Bellamy any more than he already had tonight. I should still be screaming at him, Jasper though stubbornly.

"Need to sleep," he repeated, and laid back on the ground, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the sky.

"Yeah." Bellamy shifted his feet, leaves rustling. "Can you sleep in camp?"

"Nope," Jasper said, his voice drifting a little. He closed his eyes. This was stupid, he knew, and Bellamy was going to fight him on it, but he didn't care.

"Jasper." Bellamy's voice was impatient, but when he gripped Jasper's arms, his hands were gentle. "Come on. I'll help you. Because if you try to sleep out here, I'm going to have to stand over you with a gun all night, and I'm not in the mood."

"Your choice," Jasper said, in as flippant a tone as he could muster.

Bellamy sighed. Jasper heard shuffling, and then Bellamy's hands tightened around his arms. "Come on. Do I have to carry you?"


Jasper sighed too. Like hell he was letting Bellamy carry him.

He opened his eyes and managed to glare half-heartedly while he sat up. When his eyes shifted to the ground so he could try to get up without falling. He could almost feel Bellamy watching him. Bracing himself on the tree, he climbed to his feet, then scrubbed a hand down his face. He realized he'd forgotten which direction he was facing. "Which way?" he said. He probably should be ashamed that he'd gotten drunk and turned around, but he didn't care.

Bellamy turned him slowly until he was pointing the right direction. "This way. You still bunking with Monty?"

"Not like I have many options," Jasper said. He knew Monty didn't pull the lever at Mount Weather, but he was there and he could have stopped it.

Or maybe not. Clarke and Bellamy together made for a pretty intimidating pair when they had their minds set. But Jasper wasn't ready to forgive Monty either. They'd known each other since they were little, been best friends for as long as Jasper could remember, and Monty knew Jasper had never had anyone in his life before that made him feel the way Maya did. And he let them kill her.

"Yeah." Bellamy seemed to run out of things to say, but he didn't let go of Jasper as they walked. It felt like Bellamy was making sure Jasper didn't fall. When they got to a slight decline and Bellamy muttered, "Watch your step," Jasper was sure Bellamy was making sure he didn't fall. He might not have to take care of Octavia any more, but Bellamy didn't seem able to stop taking care of someone.

Jasper was grateful that Bellamy stopped talking after that. They walked the rest of the way back in silence, except for the few times Jasper stumbled, and Bellamy yanked him upright again with a grunt. Before Jasper realized it, Bellamy was too close, his arm around Jasper's back while Jasper's arm dangled over Bellamy's shoulders. Jasper wanted to complain or push away, but he knew he was too unstable and really needed the support.

They managed to get back into camp without anyone noticing, and Jasper tensed as they walked through the grounds, not wanting anyone to see him holding on to Bellamy for support. But it seemed like most of the camp was asleep.

When Bellamy left him at his tent, Jasper stumbled towards his bed, losing his balance and winding up crawling most of the way to his cot. Monty's head lifted from his own bed, and he gave Jasper a concerned look, but seemed to know better than to try and say anything.


***


Bellamy kept thinking of Kane's words to him: "You did good."

But every time those words echoed through his head, he decided the Chancellor--or was Abby the Chancellor today? Bellamy couldn't keep it straight--was wrong.

If he'd done good, why did the sight of all those dead people in Mount Weather still haunt his nightmares? If they'd done good, why had Clarke run away? If they'd done good, why could Monty barely meet his eyes anymore?

He envied Jasper his grief. As stupid as that seemed, at least Jasper's grief was unalloyed with guilt. He could hate Clarke and Bellamy without also hating himself. He could blame Clarke and Bellamy without blaming himself.

Bellamy couldn't even let himself grieve, because what right did he have to grief?

He made himself patrol the camp all night, because everyone else seemed to have relaxed their guards. Besides, he needed something to do. Octavia had Lincoln to take care of her now--not that she really needed much taking care of, these days. Bellamy didn't even have Clarke to butt heads with anymore. And God, how he missed her.

As if he had any right to miss her.

It was close enough to dawn that there were others stirring. He ducked into his tent and checked the safety on his gun. Then he collapsed onto his bedroll and dug around in his box of possessions until he found the bottle of hundred and seven year old whisky he'd found in the bunker alongside the guns.

"We deserve a drink," he'd told Clarke the day they came back from Mount Weather. The day he came back. The day she left him.

He shook his head. She probably couldn't bear the sight of him any more than she could bear the sight of the others. Maybe he was worse, since he'd put his hand on the lever and pulled it with her. Whatever her reasons, she'd left. Bell had never had that drink, but he needed one now.

Losing Clarke--that had been horrible. He'd actually started to think maybe he-- But she obviously didn't need him the way he needed her. She was probably still mourning for Finn, anyway.

But losing Jasper… Or rather, finding Jasper out in the forest, screaming his guts out and hoping the Grounders would kill him… Bell twisted the cork out of the whisky bottle and took a swig. That was worse. That was way worse.

Clarke's leaving had been as much her fault as his. Jasper's grief--that was Bell's fault.

"If you need forgiveness, I'll give that to you. You're forgiven." Why had it been so easy to say those words to Clarke, and so hard to accept them for himself?

Bell took another swig and pushed the cork back into the neck of the bottle. He dropped his head back against the bedroll and wondered if he could find someone to sleep with him. He'd been sleeping alone because of the nightmares, but maybe having someone next to him would be better.

He sighed and weighed his options. Raven was a no go. She was busy pretending not to like Wick, when she obviously did. Harper was an option, though Bellamy wasn't particularly attracted to her. He wasn't sure that mattered. Then there was Monroe. Bellamy wondered if she was with anyone, but he didn't think so.

He put the bottle back in the box, and found himself wishing Murphy was around. Murphy had always been a good choice to blow off steam with, and he didn't ask questions after they were spent. Bellamy wasn't sure Monroe wouldn't want to cuddle and talk. Bell wasn't opposed to that generally, with the right person... but he hadn't ever slept with the "right person" before, and that wasn't what he needed right now, anyway.

He draped his arm over his eyes. Maybe he should try to get some sleep. He tried to relax his muscles, and he was tired. The camp would be bustling with activity soon, which meant more eyes on the treeline and more warning should anything go wrong.

It didn't take long for him to drift to sleep, but it seemed like only a few moments before he was gasping awake again, the nightmares jarring him back into reality.

Fuck.

He wiped a hand down his face. Maybe Jasper had had the right idea. Drink until you couldn't walk straight. Just do it in camp, where the Grounders probably couldn't get you.

But as tempting as the idea of uninterrupted sleep was, Bell didn't think he could stand to lose that much control. With a groan, he sat up, pulling his knees up so he could rest his forehead on them. "What am I doing?" he mumbled.

He rolled his eyes at himself, then answered his own question. "Talking to myself." He shook his head, and got to his feet. Maybe he'd go find Raven. Maybe she'd had a fight with Wick.

He wandered outside, squinting at the morning sun. When his eyes adjusted, he glanced around the camp. He spotted Raven after a moment, sitting at a table and playing cards… with Jasper.

How could Jasper even be awake right now? It was possible Bellamy had gotten more sleep than he thought, but it was definitely before noon. Of course, it was entirely possible that Jasper was having nightmares too. At least, once he sobered enough to even be roused by them.

Jasper's eyes were red and puffy, and he didn't look like he felt very well, and… he had shaved his hair off at some point between when Bell saw him last night and now. But Bell supposed it was a plus that Jasper was even being social. It seemed like he'd been in bed for days, refusing to talk to anyone.

But why had he shaved his head? Bellamy squinted again, blinked, and rubbed his eyes. When he looked again, it was definitely still Jasper.

He wanted nothing more than to go talk to Jasper. Which was exactly what he shouldn't do. Even if he'd refused to promise never to speak to Jasper again, he ought to give Jasper some space.

Heart thudding, he took a step towards their table, then swore at himself and turned around. Leave him alone, he told himself.

He forced himself to walk away, though he didn't know where he was going. Anywhere that wasn't Jasper.

He was so tired his hands were shaky. Or maybe that was because he'd forgotten to eat for...a while. He ought to try to eat something.

He made his way to the mess and got something to eat, then glanced around the room for somewhere to sit. There were only a couple people in the room, and only one person sitting alone at the far wall. When Bellamy's gaze passed over Monty, Monty was clearly looking his way. But when their eyes met, Monty ducked his head and looked down at his own food.

Bellamy frowned. This was ridiculous. He hesitated, then walked over to Monty's table and sat down across from him. He saw Monty's shoulders draw up a little as the other boy tensed, but Monty did look up again.

"Hey," he murmured, sounding unsure.

"Hi." Bellamy liked Monty. He had a lot of sense, and he'd been indispensable in keeping them alive. Plus he knew how to make hooch. It wasn't among the top three things Bell felt guilty for, but at least in the top ten things was the way he and Clarke had strong-armed Monty into helping them kill everyone in Mount Weather.

Bell cleared his throat. "How, uh, are you?"

Monty shrugged and shoveled something into his mouth. Some days, Bell wasn't sure what the rations were, but none of them could really be choosy.

After he swallowed, Monty wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Okay," he said. "Tired. You?"

"Tired," Bell agreed. Tired didn't cover the half of it, but it would do. He took a couple of bites. He still wasn't sure what it was, but it tasted okay. "Jas--you and Jasper, you two good?"

Monty's eyebrows raised and he seemed to still, fork raised halfway to his mouth. He stared at Bell for a long moment, then he put his fork back down. "Not since…" He trailed off, but he didn't have to finish. Not since Mount Weather. Not since Maya.

Monty dropped his gaze to the table, his hair slipping over his eyes a little. "I, um… I never said thank you."

"Thank you?" Bell repeated, incredulous. "For what?" What reason could Monty possibly have to thank him? Not only had he killed Jasper's girlfriend, he'd also destroyed their friendship.

Monty swallowed hard. "For not telling Jasper… you know… everything."

Oh.

In the aftermath of Mount Weather, Bellamy had been honest with Jasper about his and Clarke's part in what had happened. But he left out the extent to which Monty had helped them, how Monty had had to hack the Mount Weather computers to even make it possible for Bell and Clarke to pull that lever. He hadn't wanted to destroy Jasper's first (maybe?) love and his longest friendship in the same day.

Of course, Jasper still blamed Monty, but at least this way maybe he'd one day forgive him.

Bellamy thought back to what Clarke had said just before she left. I bear it, so they don't have to. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug, giving Monty a half smile. "He might as well just blame one of us. Well, two of us, but since Clarke isn't here…"

He took another bite of food. "You two have always been close, huh? You got locked up together, right?"

"Yeah," Monty said. He was still looking at the table, but he smiled a little, as if getting locked up with Jasper was a fond memory. "We broke into the Ark garden. Often, actually."

Bellamy gave him what he hoped was a curious look. He wanted Monty to keep talking. Preferably about Jasper, but he'd listen to anything at this point. His hands weren't shaking quite as bad. Maybe it was the food. Maybe it was just sitting down and talking to someone who didn't hate him.

"Please tell me you weren't stealing tomatoes," he said, and gulped another bite.

Monty huffed a laugh, then finally resumed eating. "I hate tomatoes. So does Jasper." He shook his head to the side to clear his bangs from his eyes. "My parents were in pharmaceuticals. And Jasper and me... we had a side business. Well, I guess it wasn't a side business. It was our only business." He cleared his throat and lifted finger to make a point. "Technically, it wasn't even stealing, because I was growing our own stash, and we were going to replace what we'd borrowed." Monty was grinning now.

Bellamy laughed for the first time in what felt like forever. Really laughed, from the belly, not a bitter, angry chuckle. "You were--and Jasper's a chemist!" he realized. "Herb. Good herb." He shook his head, grinning faintly back at Monty. "That's awesome."

His shoulders had been tight and tense since he left his tent, but he found himself starting to relax. Hanging around Monty and talking about Jasper was almost like hanging around Jasper. Jasper's open nature had always been relaxing.

Until Mount Weather.

"There were a lot of unhappy people when we went to lockup," Monty said. He shoved another bite of food into his mouth, then pushed little scraps of food on his plate into a pile. His smile faded a little. "I wish we had some of that stuff down here. I'd rather Jasper smoke than try to drink until his liver fell out." His smile was gone now.

Bell's shoulders tensed up again. He shrugged them, trying to get them relaxed again. "Yeah. Maybe I'd actually sleep if you had some of that stuff." As soon as he said it, he wished he hadn't. Hopefully Monty wouldn't pick up on that. "The hooch isn't bad," he rushed on. "But I don't like being out of control."

"Nightmares?" Monty said softly.

Shit.

"I get them too." Monty used his finger to push the little bits of food on his plate onto his fork, not looking at Bellamy. "So does-- So does Jasper. But he usually doesn't wake up. Not when he's drunk, anyway." His voice was getting quieter, like he was telling a secret that he didn't know he should. But Bellamy supposed they shared a bond of death now, so maybe Monty needed someone to talk to. "On the nights I can sleep… his…" He trailed off and shook his head.

If Monty was going to admit that, Bellamy probably should too. He hunched his shoulders and watched Monty playing with his food. "Yeah. They wake me up and I can't go back." He shoved the last bite of food in his mouth. It felt like sawdust. He took forever to chew and swallow. His hands were shaking again.

"So having someone else there doesn't help you sleep?" he asked.

"He… He talks in his sleep. Nothing I can understand. But it's always… it always sounds… pained." Monty cleared his throat and ate the last bite of food he had. He chewed and swallowed, then rested his fork on his plate. "I mean… since the day he got attacked, just after we landed, he hasn't slept well. But it's never been this bad."

Monty rested his elbows on the table, clasped his hands, and pressed his forehead into his crossed fingers. "He'd hate me even more if he knew I was telling you this."

That was probably true. Bellamy rubbed his fingers through his hair and curled one at the back of his neck, trying to massage the tension out. "I won't tell him if you don't." He stared down at the table. It was weird. He was just as miserable now as he had been, but at least he wasn't miserable by himself. Monty understood.

"I wish Clarke was here. She'd know what to do," Bell muttered.

Monty looked up from his hands. "She left us." His lips pressed together. "She was selfish to leave us. To opt out of the aftermath."

Bellamy looked at him, surprised at the bitterness in Monty's voice. Monty didn't seem like the kind of guy to hold a grudge. But he'd lost a lot, too.

"Yeah," Bellamy said after a moment. "I guess so." He bit his lip. "But I don't--" I don't know what to do, he didn't say.

He looked down at his plate and tapped the rough edge. It had been beaten out of a scavenged piece of the drop ship, from the looks of it. They didn't even have proper place settings down here. But somehow, it felt right. He was all rough edges. They all were.

"How do I help Jasper?" he blurted.

Monty opened his mouth, then closed it again. He seemed genuinely surprised by the question. Finally, his expression evened out. "If I knew, I would have done it already."

Of course he would have. Bellamy felt stupid for even asking. Just because he was the de facto leader of their people--at least those left from the original hundred--didn't give him the right to pry into everything.

The silenced stretched for a moment, then Monty shook his head. "How's Octavia?" he asked, obviously wanting the change the subject.

Bellamy cleared his throat. "She's good." He half laughed. "Probably coping better than the rest of us, all things considered. She…I don't know, she just adapts so well." He rubbed the back of his neck again. "Or else she's hiding it well. From me, at least." He fought the bitter twist to his lips. He could still barely look at Lincoln sometimes. Torturing Lincoln was far from the worst of the things Bellamy had done, but when he looked back, he sometimes thought it was his first step into hell.

Or maybe that had been when he'd let them hang Murphy.

God. Maybe drinking hooch until your liver rotted was a good way to cope with this.

"She's strong," Monty said, echoing Jasper the night before. "Also… sometimes we hide our pain from the people we love the most." Monty frowned.

Bellamy watched him curiously. Clarke would say-- No, he cut himself off. Clarke is gone. "Why? Those are the people who ought to forgive us for anything."

"Pride?" Monty mused. "Maybe to keep us from worrying. Or hurting. It's not about forgiveness."

Bellamy nodded slowly. "Why share it, if there's no way to fix it?" he suggested.

"The same reason that we're talking right now," Monty said.

Why were they talking right now? Bellamy didn't even know why he'd been drawn to Monty's table, except that he felt the same kind of need in him.

"To be miserable together?" he suggested finally.

"To not feel alone?" Monty said. "I wish I could make Jasper not feel alone."

"Me too." Bellamy let his shoulders relax again. What good were wishes? Pretty much none of his wishes had come true since they got to Earth. Except the most important one, he realized. Octavia is free and okay.

"I just wish there was some way to tell him--without making him mad--that no one expects him to be okay. Or--or you to be okay. Or Raven. I mean…" He trailed off, unsure what he did mean. "I'm not thinking clearly anymore," he said, his voice muffled as he rubbed his hands over his face.

He needed sleep.

"They dropped us to Earth to… they didn't know if we'd live or die. They had no way to know. No one should expect any of us to be okay." Monty brushed his hair back with his hand, and looked at Bell. "But some of us got it worse than others."

"Yeah." Bell looked unhappily back at him. "Thanks, Monty."

A look of confusion crossed Monty's face. "For what?"

"Being miserable with me?" Bell quirked his lips in a tiny smile. "For letting me know I'm not alone."

"You're not alone," Monty confirmed.

Bell's smile strengthened a little. "Neither are you." Then he made a face. "Well. Except when I sleep. Then I'm very much alone these days." He tried to make it sound like a joke. He wasn't sure he succeeded.

Monty dropped his gaze again. "Um. Yeah, I know." He had already eaten what was left on his plate, but he played with the fork anyway. "Wanna bunk together?"

Bell wondered suddenly if Monty had taken that as the wrong kind of invitation. Or--not the wrong kind, exactly, but not the one Bell meant. But maybe Monty didn't know Bellamy liked guys as much as girls. Bell cleared his throat. "I wouldn't mind sharing my blankets. It's...But I don't know if you'd want to trade Jasper's nightmares for mine."

Monty shrugged. "Who knows who's worse?" he said, and Bellamy noticed Monty's shoulders were tense again.

Bell offered him a small smile. "We can compare nightmares if we wake each other up," he said.

Strangely, he looked forward to sharing his tent. Even if it was just with someone who wanted to sleep beside him, instead of a comfort fuck. It must be like Monty said, it was good to know he wasn't alone.

"Yeah," Monty said, and he seemed relieved that Bellamy didn't think he was weird for suggesting it. "Yeah," he repeated.

Bellamy nodded. "Yeah," he said. And maybe that would give Jasper the space he needed. "See you tonight."


***


Jasper stared at the ceiling in his tent, wondering where Monty had gone.

He told himself that he didn't care. He didn't care about Monty. He didn't want to talk to him. But it didn't matter how much he told himself he didn't care. He did care.

As much hooch as he drank, the fact that Monty never came home that night didn't fail to bother him.

So he was at least half drunk when he staggered out into the camp to look for Monty. Even if he was mad at Monty, he couldn't stand the thought of Monty being hurt or captured by Grounders.

Once Jasper was out under the stars, looking around the enclosed compound of the Sky People camp, he realized he had no idea where to look for Monty. Maybe he was with Raven? But when Jasper went to Raven's rooms, he heard her voice and Wick's voice, and that was it. And they sounded like they were...involved in stuff, so he didn't want to interrupt.

Jasper wrenched his hand around his stomach and collapsed to his knees. He'd never had enough alone time with Maya to do… that. And it broke his heart that he would never be with Maya in that way.

"Shut up," he told his brain.

He managed to stand, and looked around the camp. Then he felt at his waist. There was a bottle of hooch at his side. He could just leave the camp again… and maybe he'd manage to die this time.

He took a few steps towards the gate. It would be so easy. No one would miss him.

Except that wasn't true, was it? Even if Monty had given up on him (and what else was he supposed to think, since Monty hadn't come home tonight?), Bellamy hadn't. He could still hear Bellamy's voice saying he wouldn't leave Jasper.

Then again, who cared what Bellamy thought? Jasper's fingers caressed the bottle. Bellamy had been responsible for Maya's death. It was Bellamy's fault Jasper was alone tonight.

Jasper maneuvered his way past the guards, then wandered aimlessly into the forest. Once he was far enough, he'd start screaming. He started to walk towards Grounder territory, hoping Bellamy wouldn't find him tonight.

It was an unfounded hope. He'd taken no more than fifty steps into the trees when Bellamy stepped out from the shadows.

"Jasper. What the hell are you doing?" He sounded exhausted. Jasper noticed that, and then hated himself for noticing. He didn't care if Bellamy was exhausted.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jasper snapped back.

"Making sure you don't do something stupid," Bellamy replied. "And trying not to sleep. But mostly making sure you don't do something stupid."

"Can't you just let me--" Jasper started. He sucked in a huge breath. "Leave me alone!" he shouted.

"No, damn it!" Bellamy shouted back. "You're not in your right mind!" He stepped closer, which was a mistake. Jasper pushed forward and shoved Bellamy off-balance. Bellamy staggered, trying to catch himself, and Jasper gathered himself enough to dart past him.

"Jasper!" Bellamy called after him.

Jasper went barreling off into the woods. He hoped Bellamy wouldn't follow. "Go home!" he yelled, his breath starting to quicken. Then his foot slid in something wet, and he skidded about a foot before stopping to see what it was.

Blood.

A lot of it.

What the hell had the Grounders done here? Death by a thousand cuts?

Panting, Jasper looked around him, acutely aware of Bellamy's approaching footfall, but looking for Grounders. They had to be near. Jasper was thankful he wasn't as drunk as he had been last time he was out here arguing with Bellamy.

"Jasper!" At least Bellamy wasn't shouting quite as loudly the further they got from camp. "Where are you go--" He broke off with a muffled noise. Jasper could still hear him breathing, though, so he hadn't been attacked by a Grounder. "What the hell?" Bellamy breathed.

When Bellamy came into view, Jasper looked at him, wide-eyed. Bellamy was staring at the stretch of blood-covered ground that Jasper had slipped on. "No clue," Jasper breathed. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he wished he brought a gun.

Then again, he'd wanted to die, so why would he?

Bellamy stared back at him for a moment, his own eyes as wide as Jasper's. Then the flash of fear Jasper had seen transformed into determination. Bellamy sank into a half crouch, his gaze roaming the woods around them. He raised his gun, thumbing the safety off.

"Did you hear anything?" Bellamy breathed.

"Just you," Jasper said. He turned his back on Bellamy and scanned the woods. He didn't see or hear anything.

He had planned on drawing a Grounder out and picking a fight, but he hadn't planned for Bellamy to be here when it happened. He didn't want Bellamy to get hurt because of him, even if he hated himself for even caring if Bellamy got hurt.

He slowly started to back up to where Bellamy was, steadying his breath. "You shouldn't be out here."

"Neither should you," Bellamy whispered. His hand gripped Jasper's wrist. "What were they doing out here?"

Jasper shook his head, then glanced down at Bellamy's hand on his wrist. It felt… odd. But maybe that's because Jasper had been drinking. Though, with fear coursing through him, he felt all but sober. "Looks like they bled someone--or something--out."

He hadn't expected to be so afraid. Probably not drunk enough, he thought.

"Maybe they were hunting," Bellamy said. The tone of his voice said he didn't believe that. "Let's get out of here. Out of Grounder territory."

"You go," Jasper said. Apparently, he was still drunk enough to be stubborn about this.

Bellamy's hand tightened on Jasper's wrist, and Jasper expected Bellamy to tell him to stop being stupid, but before Bellamy got any words out, faint voices could be heard in the distance. Something snapped closer to them, maybe a twig.

Bellamy's hand tightened further. He didn't speak, but he pulled Jasper's wrist, not hard, but making it clear he wanted Jasper to come with him. Jasper wished he would just leave him, but he had a feeling Bellamy was going to try to be as stubborn as he was.

Another twig snapped, this time behind Jasper.

Jasper swivelled around, breaking Bellamy's grip on his wrist. Bellamy turned too, but when he didn't see anything, he turned back around and pressed his back to Jasper's. Jasper figured he was trying to make sure they were scanning as much of the ground as possible.

There was a flash of movement, and Jasper whispered, "There." Then suddenly a Grounder was running at him, sword raised. "Shit," he breathed, eyes widening. He should have at least brought some sort of weapon. If not a gun, something that would have made this a fair fight.

When the Grounder swung his blade, Jasper lunged out of the way, doing his best to drag Bellamy with him.

Bellamy grunted. Gunfire exploded next to Jasper, making his ears ring. Bellamy was shouting, but Jasper could barely hear it through the ringing. Jasper spun to keep his eye on the Grounder who had charged them.

The Grounder came around, his muscles tensing for another charge. Bellamy fired again, and this time someone else screamed. Jasper almost swung to look behind him, then realized Bellamy was watching his back--and counting on Jasper to watch Bellamy's back.

But what good was he going to do without a weapon?

The Grounder ran at him again, sword upraised.

This time, when Jasper shifted out of the way, he didn't react fast enough. The blade swiped his side, and Jasper screamed as he felt hot blood start to soak through his shirt. He didn't think it did any major damage, though. He might need stitches, but that was it.

He needed to get that blade out of the Grounder's hand, otherwise he'd wind up dead. In the abstract, dying had sounded like a great idea, but in the moment, Jasper wasn't too keen on the idea. Until he disarmed the Grounder, all he could do was dodge and hope the next time the blade connected, it wasn't worse.

Jasper ignored the pain in his side and lunged before the Grounder got his weapon up again. The Grounder was broader than Jasper, though he was shorter, and Jasper managed to knock him off balance, the pair of them toppling to the forest floor.

Jasper scrambled to get his hand around the wrist of the Grounder, hoping to bash the Grounder's hand to the dirt until he released the weapon.

He heard the gun fire once more and then click. Bellamy swore, and then there was no time to think about what Bellamy was doing.

The Grounder had obviously had more training than Jasper at fighting. He didn't struggle against Jasper's grip on his wrist. Instead he threw his heavier bulk against Jasper, trying to push him away. It worked against him, though, because Jasper's grip kept the maneuver from working. Jasper bashed the Grounder's hand once, twice--and the third time, he heard something snap.

The Grounder had found a rock the hard way.

Jasper flooded with relief as the sword slid a few inches across the dirt and stopped, and he quickly reached for it. He never got it, though, because the Grounder lifted his probably broken hand, fingers balled into a fist, and struck Jasper hard across the face. Jasper was vaguely aware of spit and blood flying from his mouth as he slid to the side. The Grounder used the opportunity to roll them, climbing on top of Jasper and punching him again.

Jasper felt dizzy, but his adrenaline kept him fighting. He flung his fist at the Grounder's face, but got blocked, then aimed for his ribs and connected, earning him a grunt of pain from the Grounder.

That was something, at least. He punched at the same place again, feeling the skin split on his knuckles. The Grounder grunted again, but didn't pull back. Instead he drove his knee into Jasper's hip. He'd probably been aiming at the groin, but Jasper twisted just in time.

Still, pain surged from his hip all the way to his toes, and he felt his eyes watering. It blurred his vision enough that he didn't see the next impact to his face. He flung his hands up, trying to shove the Grounder off of him. If he didn't get out of this position, it was over. But the Grounder was too damn heavy.

Then hands closed around Jasper's throat.

Shit!

Jasper reached up, clawing at the Grounders hands, but it didn't take long for the world to start going black around the edges.

Bellamy screamed something, but Jasper couldn't quite make out what. Then he heard a loud crack. The Grounder slumped down on top of him, his hands falling away from Jasper's throat.

"Jasper. Jasper." Bellamy's voice was urgent. The Grounder shifted on top of Jasper, but as his eyes cleared, he saw it was because Bellamy was dragging the Grounder off him.

"Talk to me, Jasper. Come on. Please."

Bellamy shoved the unconscious Grounder to the side and kicked him hard in the ribs. Then he turned to crouch over Jasper.

"Come on, Jasper," he whispered.

Jasper was gasping for air, so hard it was impossible to talk. But it felt good for fresh, cool air to be filling his lungs. He lifted a hand and squeezed Bellamy's shoulder, hoping it would make the world stop spinning. "'Mfffine," he managed to get out, then he rolled to the side and went into a coughing fit, trying not to cry out as the coughing made the slash in his side jolt with pain each time.

Bellamy let out a huge sigh. "Thank God," he muttered. "Okay, hang on. Let me get your side taken care of." Jasper heard Bellamy thrashing for a minute, then his hands were at Jasper's side, pressing hard enough to draw a deep groan out of Jasper.

"Sorry," Bellamy said. "I know it hurts, but we gotta get this bleeding stopped. We're lucky there were only two of them. Can you hold that there? Just for a second. Press hard." He waited for Jasper's weak nod. Then he stood up.

Jasper heard him take a couple of steps, pause, and then a few more steps. Bellamy breathed out sharply and then there was a wet thud. Bellamy made a noise Jasper couldn't identify, and then footsteps came back to Jasper.

When Bellamy appeared at Jasper's side again, he was holding the Grounder's sword, which had been wiped half clean.

"We've got to get that bleeding stopped so we can get back to camp," Bellamy said. His voice sounded thick, but he just knelt and put a hand over Jasper's on the makeshift bandage. "Can you sit up enough for me to tie that in place?"

Jasper nodded again. His throat was sore, and he didn't really have much to say anyway. He was in too much pain to have a conversation.

He steeled himself for the wave of hurt he knew would come when he tried to move, but for all he knew, there could be more Grounders on the way, and he didn't want Bellamy to get himself killed trying to get Jasper back to camp.

Damn it. He shouldn't care.

He shifted a little, winced, and then decided to get it over with in one motion instead of trying to gingerly push himself up. He shoved against the ground and got upright, but he couldn't help the cry of pain that escaped him.

It was then he heard footsteps in the leaves on the ground and Jasper felt himself still. He wasn't sure he could fight again. Bellamy had tensed and swung around to look in the direction of the sound too.

Jasper tried to get to his feet. He didn't know if he could fight, but he was going to at least try. He tried to hold back the pained noises as he pushed himself to his knees, but when Octavia and Lincoln appeared, weapons ready, Jasper let out a gust of breath he'd been holding and sat back on his heels.

Octavia looked at Bellamy, then Jasper, then her mouth dropped open and she started running toward Jasper. She knelt in front of him and clasped her hands gently on either side of his face, her gaze flicking up and down over his features. "What the hell happened?" she gasped.

"Grounders," Bellamy said, his tone implying that should be obvious. "Help me, O. I need to get this bandaged."

"Your shirt isn't the cleanest thing to use," Lincoln pointed out. He sheathed his sword and knelt next to Jasper. "Let me put something on it first."

From one pocket he produced a set of vials. Selecting one, he gestured for Jasper to lift the bandage. When Jasper obeyed, Lincoln dripped the vial into his wound. Jasper hissed at the pain. Bellamy's hand gripped his shoulder.

Octavia's gaze flickered from Bellamy's hand to Jasper's face. "What are you doing so far out?" she demanded.

Jasper opened his mouth, flailing for an answer, but Bellamy said, "We thought we heard something, so we came to check it out."

Lincoln huffed a breath and produced a fairly clean length of cloth from another pocket. He pressed that over the wound in place of Bellamy's bloody shirt, then wrapped something around Jasper's torso to keep the bandage in place.

"Nice try, big brother," Octavia said. "Jasper reeks of hooch, and you're not stupid enough to come out here by yourself."

"Tha's wha' you fink," Jasper said, and realized his mouth was numb. Probably swollen.

He realized teling Octavia that Bellamy had been coming out here alone was a shitty thing to do, since Bellamy had tried to cover for him, but the words were out of his mouth before he thought about it. His head was still a little spinny, anyway. Maybe he had a concussion. Can't blame the guy with the concussion, can you?

"Bell?" Octavia's voice demanded an answer.

"Can we do this after we keep Jasper from going into shock?" Bellamy protested. "And maybe after we get back to the safety of camp?"

"Why? It sounds like you think it's perfectly safe out here," Octavia said.

Jasper looked up at Lincoln in time to see him roll his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I guess I learned better, didn't I?" Bellamy wasn't looking at Octavia. He was staring down at Jasper, but he didn't look angry. Jasper couldn't really tell what Bellamy was thinking.

"There will probably be others. They'll have heard the gunfire." Lincoln's voice was low and calm.

Jasper nodded, then regretted it as his head throbbed. It would have been bad enough for Jasper to get Bellamy killed. Even worse if he got Octavia killed. Jasper didn't know Lincoln all that well, but he seemed like a good guy, and Octavia seemed to love him.

Jasper mentally added Lincoln to the 'Try Not To Get Killed' list in his head.

His body was starting to feel numb now, so he was glad for that. Jasper reached out and took Octavia's hand in his. He waited until she stopped glaring at her brother and looked down at him, her gaze softening.

"S'sorry," he managed, and then his body revolted and the turned his head, bent at the waist, and lost his dinner on the ground.

He heard Bellamy make a disgusted noise, then cool hands were on his forehead. "Shh," Octavia said. "It's okay. Bellamy, don't throw up too."

When Jasper was finished, Octavia wiped his mouth and handed him a flask of water to rinse with. "Lincoln, can you carry him?"

"If Bellamy helps," Lincoln said. "Are you ready?"

That last question was apparently directed to Jasper.

Jasper blinked up at Lincoln. He wanted to protest, but there was no point to it. He wasn't going to make it back to camp like this.

He nodded slowly, and watched as Octavia stepped back and Bellamy and Lincoln stepped into place. Lincoln got his arms under Jasper's shoulders, and Bellamy got Jasper's feet. When they hefted him up, fresh pain erupted all over Jasper's body and he tried his best not to yelp, but failed.

The jostling as they started walking was also painful. Jasper closed his eyes and bit his tongue, trying to distract himself.

They weren't walking very long before Jasper blacked out entirely.

When he woke up again, he was in the medical unit of the camp. He glanced around, satisfied the room was empty, and then tried to sit up. His head made an angry protest, though, so he obeyed it and laid back on the cot.

He was shirtless, and feeling his side, he could tell his wound had been stitched and a fresh bandage had been wrapped around him. Satisfied with that, he reached up and touched his face. His lip was swollen and split, and one of his eyes was puffy. Turning his hand, he inspected his bloodied knuckles, and sighed. He dropped his hand back to his side.

"Maya," he murmured, talking to her, even though he wasn't sure he believed there was such a thing as an afterlife. "I miss you so much."

This wasn't what she would have wanted.



Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5