![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
innerslytherin posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
geekystudmuffinTitle: Lips That Have Smiled, Eyes That Have Shed Tears - Chapter 4/12
Fandom: The 100
Pairing: Bellamy/Jackson, mentions of Abby Griffin/Jake Griffin
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
WC: ~82,000
Characters: Bellamy Blake, Jackson, Octavia Blake, Aurora Blake, Marcus Kane, Inspector Grus, Abby Griffin, Clarke Griffin, Monty Green, Jasper Jordan, various OCs
Warnings: Bullying, minor character death, alcohol abuse
Notes: We're posting in chapters, but this is not a WIP. We also stayed mostly canon-compliant, but hand-waved a few things while writing this. The Ark doesn't have a limited supply of water in this fic. The timeline of Monty & Jasper's arrest is moved up a bit. And Jackson's backstory is AU, as this was written before 3x10, "Fallen", revealed info about Jackson's mother. Also, neither of us speak Hindi, so the single sentence we wrote in Hindi was googled. If you speak Hindi, and we got it wrong, our feelings will not be hurt if you correct us. :)
Summary: Bellamy Blake isn't one of the privileged on the Ark. His life as a guard cadet would be a lot easier if he weren't trying to keep his mother's secrets and protect his sister. What Bellamy doesn't realize is just how much a certain doctor has figured out about his problems, and how much Doctor Jackson wants to help.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two - Part One, Chapter Two - Part Two, Chapter Three
Chapter Four
When Jackson woke up, he was in Medical, and he could hear Bellamy swearing in a steady stream of anger.
"Cadet Blake," said Abby's voice.
Jackson pried his eyes open the barest slit, trying to focus.
"Bellamy," Abby said. "He's awake. I think."
Then a hand gripped his tightly. "J?" Bellamy whispered.
Jackson turned his head to look at him, which made his head start pounding. He winced, closing his eyes again. He tightened his fingers on Bell's. "Never saw that truck coming," he breathed, trying to piece together what had happened to him. There had been Jasper and Monty. And Allard. And… what was next?
"Open your eyes, Jackson," said Abby's calm voice. He obeyed reflexively, then winced as a bright light attacked his head.
Bellamy's fingers tightened on his.
"Concussion," Abby said. "Which is common when someone is hit on the head hard enough to make him lose consciousness."
"What happened?" Bellamy demanded softly.
"I was in the Skybox with the kids. Allard is a fucking asshole. Then I was coming here, and…" He shook his head, which caused another uncomfortable throbbing, and he reminded himself not to move. "I don't remember. Maybe it'll come back." He groaned. "Talking hurts my brain."
"Bellamy, you should grab that basin there," Abby said, and then a wave of nausea swamped Jackson as her fingers pressed against the back of his head. Bellamy's fingers released Jackson's and there was a clattering noise just a couple of moments before Jackson lost his fight with the nausea. Apparently Abby's warning was in time, because when he lurched to the side to vomit, a basin materialized under him.
Jackson heaved a few times, feeling tears roll down his cheeks as he did, and then rolled back onto his back, gasping. Abby wiped his mouth and cheeks, and he felt stupid. God, this was awful. He felt like he had no control over his body. "Oh God, knock me out," he panted, though even in the haze of his mind, he knew Abby couldn't do that.
He felt Bellamy's fingers close around his again.
"He'll be all right," Abby said. "Doctors always make for poor patients. There's no skull fracture, which was my biggest concern." Abby's fingers stroked Jackson's temple. "I'll give you some acetaminophen as soon as you can keep down a few sips of water."
"Allard is a fucking asshole," Bellamy murmured. "If he did this--"
"Cadet Blake." Abby's voice was sharp enough to make Jackson wince. "You will leave this to the official guard."
After a moment, Jackson heard Bellamy sigh. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he mumbled.
"He… he walked away from me," Jackson mumbled. "As soon as we left lockup. He needs to be…"
A flash of something came back to Jackson suddenly.
You talk to anyone about what you think you know, your pretty cadet boyfriend pays the price.
Jackson had no context for the memory. Not where he was or who said it. But he stopped talking anyway.
"J?" Bellamy's voice was worried. "What's wrong? Doctor Griffin?"
Abby's fingers touched his forehead. "It's not uncommon for concussion patients to doze off," she said. He could feel her taking his pulse.
"God, this is..." Bellamy whispered, but he trailed off. His thumb was sweeping slowly across Jackson's knuckles, back and forth.
"Take this," Abby said, and Jackson heard the rustling of cloth. Then the cold of an ice pack bit at the back of his head.
He hissed at the pain where the pack touched what was obviously a gash in his scalp. He groaned. "Where was I?"
"Not far from Medical," Abby said. "Though I don't know if that's where whoever it was jumped you, or just where they decided to leave you. Lieutenant Shumway is looking through the hallway video surveillance, but so far there's nothing."
Jackson hummed a noise of acknowledgement, and squeezed Bellamy's fingers. "I'm gonna be fine," he told him. "Couple days, I'll be on my feet again."
"Seven, minimum," Abby said crisply. "Probably more, depending on how much rest you force on him. Do I need to commandeer you from the cadet class?"
Bellamy didn't respond for several moments, and Jackson started wondering if he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming this conversation. Bellamy finally said, "I'll do whatever you say, ma'am."
Jackson felt a little surge of happiness that Bellamy was willing to take off training to take care of him, if Abby saw fit, but then the happiness was squashed by another memory.
Give Blake my regards next time you blow him.
God, if Bellamy took off to take care of him, it would be worse for Bellamy when he returned to training.
"N--no," Jackson said. "I'll rest. Promise." And then he sighed. He wasn't sure what he would do with himself for seven or more days.
He heard Bellamy sigh. "I can at least keep an eye on him when I'm not in training," he told Abby. "But if you think he needs supervision, say the word."
She hummed. "We'll see. Jackson, I'm keeping you overnight. Bellamy is going to go home and rest, and in the morning he'll be off duty for one day at least to get you home and settled."
"Yes, ma'am," Bellamy said.
Jackson squeezed Bellamy's fingers. "You," he said, then hesitated, because he wasn't sure how much of Bellamy's business he was comfortable with Abby knowing. But he had to offer. "You can stay at my place," he whispered. "If you want. If you need to."
He heard Bellamy chuckle, though it sounded strained. "I can hardly take care of you if I don't stay with you," he said softly. "But I locked the door this morning."
"Why would you do something like that?" Jackson teased, though after what had just happened, Jackson knew he needed to get better at that. Obviously, certain elements in the guard had their eyes on him.
Abby snorted and walked away, just as Jackson's stomach lurched again. "Keys in my pocket," he managed. "Need that basin again."
Bellamy made a panicked noise and pulled away, but he managed to get the basin up in time. This time Jackson was aware of Bellamy making a pained noise, and it occurred to him briefly to hope Bellamy didn't puke, too. But when he finished, Bell helped him lie back down and wiped his lips. Jackson heard him set the basin down, then Bellamy's fingers brushed through his hair.
"I hate this," Bell whispered. "I am so sorry they--" He choked on the words and then said, "I should have held out, you know. It would have been safer if I hadn't let myself feel this way about you."
"Shh," Jackson whispered. "This isn't your fault. I may or may not have told Allard to float himself."
"You what? J, do you have no self preservation instincts at all?" Bellamy sounded like he was trying not to show his anger.
Before Jackson could reply, though, he heard Abby's footsteps approach.
"I think you should go get some sleep, Bellamy," she said. Her voice was quiet, but firm. "Be back here around noon tomorrow."
Bellamy sighed but said, "Yes, ma'am." Jackson felt his fingers slip into his pocket for the keys. Then, to his surprise, he felt Bellamy's lips against his forehead. "Get better," he whispered.
"Mmm," Jackson hummed, reaching up to brush his knuckles to Bell's chest. "I'm better already. Ready to be released."
Bellamy made a faint noise of amusement. "No, you're not. Let Doctor Griffin take care of you tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."
His footsteps were slow as he headed for the door.
"All right. Let's get this cleaned and bandaged," Abby said.
"Mmhmm," Jackson hummed, and he was pretty sure he'd get sick again if he sat up, so he shifted over on his side, facing away from Abby so she could more easily access the back of his head. Then he braced himself for the pain.
"He's furious about this," Abby remarked as she worked. "I was impressed at the way he was able to set it aside to take care of you, though. You obviously had a better estimation of his temper than I did."
Jackson wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer, or if she was just talking to distract him.
He hummed a noise of agreement, ignoring the way his eyes were stinging from pain. At least he didn't want to throw up again. "He's a good man," he murmured.
"He seems to make you happy," Abby said, "which counts for a lot." She made an unhappy noise. "I don't think this needs stitches, but I'll keep an eye on it." He heard her ripping tape as she bandaged it, then she was urging him to lie back down. "If you remember anything else, tell me as soon as possible," she said. "Whoever did this is dangerous."
God, he didn't know what to say to that. He felt like it was his responsibility to report Allard and protect those kids. But he didn't want Bellamy hurt either.
Abby's fingers closed on his shoulder gently. "Get some rest," she said. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to check on you."
"Something for pain," he reminded her, and she left his side, returning a minute later to press a cool glass of water to his lips.
"Drink," she said, and he obeyed, swishing the first sip of water in his mouth to clear the taste of vomit. He took a few more sips, and then she sat silently by his bed for a little while longer, until it was clear he could keep water down.
She left again, and came back with pills that she helped him take. "Now rest," she said gently, and left the room, flicking out the lights as she did.
***
When Bellamy got back to Jackson's quarters from Medical, he was relieved to see no one waiting. He'd been half afraid they would be lurking around Jackson's rooms to finish what they'd started.
Had they just meant the attack on Jackson as a warning? Bellamy suddenly regretted his words to his mother the night before. She'd been right. Letting Jackson in, letting himself start falling for Jackson, it was dangerous. There was such a web of secrets and lies surrounding him, and Bellamy knew he couldn't ever explain it to Jackson.
That was one thing his mother was wrong about. Bellamy would never tell Jackson about Octavia, but not for Octavia's protection. He knew he could trust Jackson not to say anything about her. On the other hand, Bellamy was well aware of the fact that for three years now, he'd been on a knife-edge himself.
If Octavia was discovered, the Council might decide to float Bellamy along with their mother. There was no way Bellamy would put Jackson at risk, too.
Miserably, he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into Jackson's bed. He expected to toss and turn, but the bed was comfortable and smelled like Jackson. Bellamy slept hard almost at once.
The next morning he reported to Sergeant Miller, who informed him he'd been assigned to Medical for the day, and that Doctor Griffin had mentioned the possibility of needing him longer. Miller didn't seem to think it unusual, and fortunately he said it to Bellamy when no one else was around, so Bell didn't have to worry about Heron or the others finding out.
He thought about going to see Octavia for a while, while their mother was out, but decided not to. She'd be able to tell he was upset, and she would know it wasn't just because of the fight.
Finally it was close enough to noon that he thought he could report to Medical.
When he stepped inside, Abby was busy with something across the room, and Jackson was still in bed. The bed had been repositioned, though, so that Jackson was almost upright. He looked exhausted and unhappy, taking bites from a plate in his hand.
When he noticed Bellamy coming toward him, he smiled faintly. "There's two of you," he murmured, "how did I get so lucky?"
Bellamy snorted. "Maybe I should tell Doctor Griffin to keep you here until you're seeing straight," he teased, and went to lean against the wall next to Jackson's bed. "How're you feeling? And don't say fine, because I know better."
Jackson frowned. "My head is aching. My ears are ringing. Nothing tastes right," he said, poking at his plate. "But otherwise, I'm fine." He gave Bellamy a tiny, crooked smile.
Bellamy reached out and brushed Jackson's cheek with his fingers. "I hate seeing you hurt," he murmured.
"Now you know how I feel," Jackson said, inclining his head into the touch.
Bellamy couldn't quite suppress the pang of guilt at that, but he shook his head. "That's different. I'm training for the guard. It's my job."
"I was doing my job, too," Jackson said.
Bellamy tipped his head, studying him. "You remember more?" he asked. "You said Allard was being an asshole...which is typical for Allard."
"I remember everything with Allard. I remember him calling the kids shitheads and bastards very well. Things get hazy after we parted," Jackson said, frowning deeply.
Bellamy frowned. "I'll listen around, see if I can learn anything more about Allard. Those Skybox kids...some of them are shitheads. There are at least three in for murder. But most of them have it hard enough already without the guards calling them names."
He didn't point out there was a good chance he would hear plenty about whoever jumped Jackson. They both knew he would, but there was possibly nothing Bell could do anything about.
Jackson made an unhappy noise and shoved another bite of food in his mouth, making a face as he chewed. "Don't sniff around Allard," he said after a moment. "Just let this go."
"So you say I'm your boyfriend but I'm not allowed to help keep you safe?" Bellamy murmured. "I won't bring attention to myself. I'll just pay attention."
Jackson sighed. "You'd better not bring attention to yourself," he said, taking another bite. "Abby won't release me until I eat this, and it tastes like cardboard," he said, raising his voice enough that Bellamy knew Abby was supposed to hear the last part. He didn't miss the way Jackson had winced at raising his voice, though.
Abby shot Jackson a look, and Bellamy remembered her saying last night that doctors often made lousy patients. He suppressed a grin. "That sucks," he said, trying to sound sympathetic. "The sooner you finish, though, the sooner I can take you home and put you to bed."
Jackson took another bite, looking miserable. "I couldn't convince you to eat it for me, could I?"
"I heard that," Abby called, without turning around, and Jackson scowled at the back of her head.
Bellamy couldn't help laughing. "At least she hasn't benched you for six weeks," he pointed out, trying to look innocent.
Jackson scowled at Bellamy then. "I'm not broken," he muttered.
"If that delicious-smelling lunch of yours tastes like cardboard, you obviously are," Bellamy said. He looked over at Abby. "Doctor Griffin, is he going to be like this the whole time?" he asked, trying to sound like he needed sympathy.
She huffed. "I suspect he'll be even more of a handful after he hasn't worked a few days."
"I've eaten seventy-five percent of this," Jackson grumbled. "That should be enough."
Bellamy groaned. He sat on the edge of Jackson's bed and said, "If our positions were reversed, would you be satisfied at me eating seventy-five percent?"
Jackson gave Bellamy a glare that held no heat. "Depends on how much of a dick you were about it," he said, but took another bite anyway, making a show of it.
"You've been doctoring me for how many months now?" Bellamy said, giving him a humorous look. "I thought you knew me."
Jackson's glare faded. "Oh, but I do." He stabbed an overly large bite of food onto his fork and forced it in his mouth.
Bellamy leaned over until his shoulder pressed lightly against Jackson's. "You're cute when you're grumpy," he whispered.
Jackson slumped against him a little. "Glad you think so," he muttered. He took another huge bite, obviously just trying to get it over with.
Bellamy held in a sigh. "Sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh," he murmured. He raised his voice. "Doctor Griffin, he's pretty much done. Can I take him home?"
Abby sighed, then walked over to them. She didn't even glance at Jackson's plate. She held a bottle out to Bellamy. "Two of these every four to six hours as long as he's in pain."
"I know how to take acetaminophen," Jackson said, his voice flat.
Abby ignored him. "He needs to rest, physically and mentally. No sex. No chess. No reading even, for a few days."
"I know how to treat a concussion," Jackson grumped.
"Can I read to him?" Bellamy asked, looking at Jackson. He wasn't particularly surprised by the 'no sex' instruction, but he could feel his cheeks heating up at the fact she'd mentioned it.
"Yes, that's fine," Abby said, then put her hand on Jackson's knee. "Careful when you get up," she told him. "Let Bellamy help you. You could get dizzy."
"I know," Jackson said. He still looked unhappy, but resigned. He sat forward and swung his legs over the edge if the bed, then held a hand out for Bellamy.
Bellamy took Jackson's hand and moved closer, wrapping an arm around Jackson's waist. "Okay?" he murmured as he eased Jackson's weight against him.
"Mmhmm," Jackson hummed, sliding to his feet. When he stood, he sucked in a small breath and leaned heavily on Bellamy, his fingers gripping Bell's shoulder.
Abby watched him for a moment, and then Jackson straightened again. "I'm okay," he said.
"I'll make house calls for you," Abby said. "I don't want to see you anywhere near Medical for at least a week." She reached over and gave his upper arm a small squeeze, then she looked at Bellamy and walked away.
"Okay," Bellamy said. "We'll take this as slow as we need to. And if you need to rest, say so." He didn't want to actually move until Jackson indicated he was ready to do so.
"Let's go," Jackson said, and nudged Bellamy forward as they started to walk. He seemed mostly pretty steady, occasionally leaning a little heavier than he probably wanted to, but then righting himself.
When they rounded a corner into the hallway someone had found Jackson's limp body in, Jackson tensed.
Bellamy tightened his arm around Jackson, wondering if he was remembering something about the attack. Bell took a slow breath. "J?" He murmured.
"I'm okay," Jackson said immediately. "It was here, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," Bellamy breathed. He looked up into Jackson's face. "You remember that?"
Jackson was frowning. "I was here. And then everything went dark, but I was still awake," he breathed, then shook his head. "Let's keep going."
Bellamy nodded. "It'll be okay," he said, even though neither of them could know that, and continued down the hall with Jackson. He couldn't help hoping they didn't run into anyone they knew, so they didn't get interrupted on the way back to Jackson's home.
Jackson was quiet for a long time, his expression a little far off. Eventually, he expelled a breath. "I could probably walk on my own, if you want."
"Don't be ridiculous," Bellamy murmured. "First of all, I don't want. And second of all, I promised Doctor Griffin I would take care of you. Pretty sure that doesn't mean making you walk on your own."
Jackson made an unhappy noise, but didn't protest.
There were a few people in the next corridor, but Bellamy was relieved to see no one he knew. That wasn't the case for Jackson, though. A handsome, middle-aged man with kind eyes smiled warmly at Jackson.
"On your feet again, I see," he said.
Jackson looked like it hurt to smile, but he smiled anyway. "Thanks to your wife," he said. "And this one," he added, looking at Bellamy. "Ah, this is Jake Griffin, Senior Environmental Engineer and Deputy Resource Manager, and Abby's husband." He looked at Jake. "This is guard cadet Bellamy Blake. My boyfriend." Jackson was sagging a little more against Bellamy.
Bellamy tightened his arm around Jackson's waist a little more. "Sir," he said politely, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'd offer to shake, but--"
Jake shook his head, giving Bellamy the same warm smile he'd given Jackson. "If you let him go to shake my hand, you'd have a strike against you in my book."
Jackson's eyebrows rose. "My legs do work," he said, and Jake chuckled.
"It's just nice to see someone else taking care of you for a change," he said. "Clarke visited you this morning, but she said you were asleep and she didn't wake you. Pretty sure there's another portrait of you in her collection, anyway."
Jackson snorted and lowered his head. "God," he muttered, sounding embarrassed.
Jake laughed again. "I won't hold you two up any longer. If Abby finds out I kept you from resting, I'll never hear the end of it."
"Say hi to Clarke for me," Jackson said, looking back up.
"Sure thing," Jake said. He inclined his head to Bellamy. "Pleasure to meet you, Bellamy."
"You, too, sir," Bellamy said, smiling at him, and then kept up with Jackson as they got moving again. When he thought they were far enough, Bell ducked his head and murmured, "There are portraits of you out there?"
Jackson chuckled lightly. "A couple, I think," he said. He looked like he might be blushing slightly. "Clarke Griffin is quite an artist." He frowned in thought, then added, "Now that I think about it, I think I stuffed the last one she gave me into the back of the book I let you borrow."
"You're a good subject for a portrait," Bell said, smiling at him. "I'll have to look for it when we get back to your place. How are you doing?" He hadn't forgotten the way Jackson had seemed to slump a little harder against him a minute ago.
"Tired," Jackson said. "More tired than I have any right to be after being stuck in a bed the last twenty hours."
"You've been healing for the past twenty hours," Bellamy pointed out. "Healing wears your body out faster, I'm pretty sure."
"I…" Jackson trailed off and shook his head, shifting his weight off Bellamy again a little bit. He glanced at the people they were walking past, almost nervously, then said, "I'm dizzy again. Let's get to my bed."
"Lean more on me," Bell said, picking up his pace just slightly. "That okay?"
"Yeah," Jackson said, lowering his gaze to the floor as they walked.
After a few minutes, Bellamy looked over to see Jackson had his eyes almost closed, and he felt his chest ache that Jackson trusted him so much.
By the time they reached Jackson's rooms, Jackson was breathing a little heavier. Bellamy guided him inside and to the bed, then went back to lock the door. When he turned to look back at Jackson, he was fumbling his shoes off, looking sad.
"Hey, let me help," Bellamy said, moving to kneel in front of where Jackson sat. "Just rest." He looked up at Jackson's face. "What is it?"
"My body. Not working properly," Jackson said, he didn't protest as Bellamy pulled his shoes and socks off. He just watched. Bellamy wondered if he was just too tired to resist now, after all the grumpiness in Medical and then the long walk here.
Bellamy lifted his head to kiss Jackson softly. "I'm sorry this happened to you," he murmured, and started unbuttoning Jackson's shirt. "You'll feel better," he promised. "Just think of this as a chance to catch up on your sleep."
"I can't sleep for seven solid days. What am I supposed to do with myself?" Jackson said, letting Bellamy push his shirt off his shoulders.
"Doctor Griffin said I could read to you," Bellamy said, dropping a kiss on Jackson's shoulder. He knew he shouldn't get too into kissing, since Jackson was in no condition for it. But Jackson had very nice shoulders. "So you can pick a very long book," he added with a laugh.
Jackson's lips formed an unhappy smile. "And when you're in training?" he said.
Bellamy didn't know what to say to that. He found himself wishing, ridiculously, that he could send Octavia to keep Jackson company while he was in training, even though it was impossible. He took a breath. "I'll ask Doctor Griffin to pull me for medical the rest of the week. Sergeant Miller didn't seem to think there was anything unusual about it."
"No," Jackson said immediately, with an unexpected amount of intensity. He expelled a breath, then said more softly, "No. You don't need to miss work for me."
"I wouldn't mind," Bellamy said, trying to catch Jackson's gaze. "Especially since I'm not convinced this isn't my fault."
Jackson sighed, looking back at Bellamy. "It's not your fault," he said. "But we both know certain members of the guard would have another excuse to haze you if you were off a week or more to take care of me."
Bellamy frowned at him. "They don't--" he began, and then pressed his lips together. He wanted to convince Jackson that Bellamy could handle this, and that Bellamy had good reasons for putting up with this. But he couldn't explain that this was about protecting his mother, because as far as Jackson knew, they'd only made nasty remarks that couldn't cause physical harm.
Bellamy knew better. If he ever stood up to Grus and his boys or tried to report him for his behavior, Grus would blow the whistle on his mom, and that could end up with his mom being floated. He drew in a breath. "There's... There's stuff I don't think I can explain, J. I don't think there would be anything but talk if I took the week off. But I don't want you worrying about it. So if you need me to go back tomorrow, I will. Only if you promise me you won't push yourself."
Jackson's gaze was unsure, almost guarded for a moment, then he looked away. "I need you to go back tomorrow," he said, looking down to his pants and starting to pull open the button.
Bellamy swallowed and looked away. Had he given Jackson the impression Bellamy didn't trust him? He hated that thought, but he couldn't think of any way to fix it. "Do you need help with those?" he asked, trying for a lighter tone. "I'm not sure I trust myself to keep my hands off you if I have to take your pants off, but Doctor Griffin was pretty clear about my keeping my hands to myself while you're recovering."
"I can handle it," Jackson said, shifting a little to push his pants over his hips. He looked at Bellamy, then inclined his head to the bookshelf. "Foundation by Isaac Asimov," he said. "There are three books in the series. The original series. That will take some time."
Bellamy grinned at him, pleased Jackson was taking him up on the offer. He went and found the book on the shelf, then glanced over his shoulder at Jackson. "You need anything? Water?"
"Please," Jackson said, sliding into bed in his boxers.
Bellamy got two bottles of water and carried the water and book to the bed. "Scoot over," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Oh, before I get settled, do you need any more acetaminophen? Doctor Griffin didn't say when you last took any."
"Around eleven, I think," Jackson murmured. "My brain is a bit hazy, but it's not three yet, is it?"
"Nope. Not quite one." Bellamy reached out and brushed his fingers through Jackson's hair. He looked tired, unhappy, and pained, and Bellamy wished he could fix all of that. His stomach twisted a little. He wasn't used to needing anyone but his mom and Octavia, but it occurred to him that he needed Jackson. More than that, he wanted Jackson. God, how had this happened?
At some point, Jackson had closed his eyes, and Bellamy realized he'd been silent for a while. Bellamy wondered if Jackson had fallen asleep, but eventually, Jackson sighed heavily. "Can I convince you to strip and join me in bed? Honestly, I'm too tired and headachey to take advantage of you."
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "Of course." He'd been planning to sit next to Jackson while he read, but this would be even better. He set the book on the bedside table and started undressing. When he was down to his boxers, he said, "Do you want me to read, or do you want the lights out?"
"Read," Jackson murmured. "I've spent the better part of a day sleeping."
Bellamy had been thinking they might talk for a while, even with the lights out, but he climbed in bed and slouched down next to Jackson. He held his arms open. "Want to come here?" he offered.
"Mmhmm," Jackson hummed, then shifted into Bellamy's arms.
Bellamy let out a long breath, wrapping his arms securely around Jackson. "I wanted to do this last night. Well, with more clothes on. But I figured Doctor Griffin would shout." He smoothed a hand down Jackson's arm. This felt good, just being together like this.
"She… she doesn't get you, but I think she's trying to. For my sake," Jackson breathed. "I doubt she would have shouted unless you were accidentally doing something that might hurt me."
Bellamy made a thoughtful noise. It was weird, considering how much time he'd spent resisting Doctor Griffin, that now he wanted her to like him. "I hope I never do anything to make her shout at me, then," he said softly. "I don't ever want to hurt you." Even if he was pretty sure he already might have done, just by letting himself get involved with Jackson.
"So far, so good," Jackson said. He kissed Bell's neck. "Have you talked to your mom?"
Bellamy sighed. "Not since the night of our date," he said after a moment. "She..." God, how could he make Jackson understand without also making him think Bellamy's mom had something against him personally? "She's not happy about the idea of me being distracted from my responsibilities," he said finally. That was certainly true, even if guard training was only one of the responsibilities he meant. "I'll try talking to her when you're feeling better."
"I literally just told you to let me recover alone for a week so you could work," Jackson said. "I'm trying not to pull you away from your responsibilities." Jackson let out a breath that seemed abrupt. "Tell her that. I want you to be happy and safe."
"I told her you're a good man," Bellamy said, turning his head to kiss Jackson's forehead. "I told her you cared about me even when I wasn't talking to you. She just--" Bellamy closed his eyes. He understood why his mom was so set against Bellamy's having a relationship with anyone. He just wished he didn't understand. He wished he could be pissed at her without having to also be fair to her. "I told you what... what she did to get my recommendation for the guard," he murmured finally, trying to keep his voice level. "What I think she did, anyway. I guess she's worried I'll throw all that away if I get too attached to you."
Jackson shook his head against Bell's shoulder. "That doesn't make sense, Bell," he whispered. "I'm not even involved in that."
"No," Bellamy said, "but it...it cost her a lot. She thinks..." Bellamy took a deep breath and then blurted, "She thinks I couldn't have earned a spot in the cadet class on my own. And since she went to such extremes to get me a spot, she's irrational about me keeping my place." He frowned. He wasn't sure he was making any sense at all, especially to someone with a concussion.
Jackson sighed heavily, but shifted closer to Bellamy."M'sorry," he said. "If I could just… when I'm better, do you think she might have dinner with us? I could try to show her I'm not a threat."
"I'll suggest it," Bellamy said. "I really hadn't expected her to react quite as strongly as she did. I know she doesn't like change, but..." Of course, he'd made it even worse with his remark about Grus. As angry as he was at her, he had probably deserved that slap.
Bellamy turned his head to bury his face in Jackson's hair. "I told her nothing could make me walk away from you," he whispered.
Jackson tightened his arm around Bellamy. When he spoke, he sounded like he might be smiling a little. "Nothing?"
"Well, I guess if you suddenly turn into an asshole, maybe," Bellamy teased. God, he had the horrible, wonderful suspicion that he was falling in love with Jackson. Maybe he already had, before they even kissed. What was he supposed to do with this? He took a slow breath, hoping it wasn't too shaky.
"No guarantees for the next seven to ten days," Jackson murmured, kissing Bellamy's neck.
Bellamy let out a choked laugh. "I meant on a more permanent basis. Pretty sure I've been an asshole myself on occasion, and you've stuck around."
Jackson hummed thoughtfully. "I usually have a high tolerance for dickishness," he said. "Mmm, either read or turn the lights out. They hurt a little."
That made Bellamy laugh again. "I asked if you wanted the lights out," he pointed out, but he shifted Jackson's weight off him so he could get up and go to the light switch. As soon as the lights were out, he crawled back in bed, wrapping his arms around Jackson again. "Mm. I could get used to having someone to sleep next to," he murmured.
"Me too," Jackson said, snuggling closer. He pressed his face to Bellamy's neck. "Especially if they happen to be ridiculously handsome and strong."
Bellamy snorted. "I thought Doctor Griffin wasn't giving you anything that would get you high," he said. He stroked his fingers through Jackson's hair, staying carefully away from the bandage on the back of his head.
"I'm totally sober," Jackson murmured. "I did just take a pretty bad blow to the head, but I'm pretty sure I thought you were ridiculously handsome before that. I think."
Bellamy hummed in amusement. "I honestly don't know when was the last time I felt this...mm, happy, I guess," he murmured. "You're ridiculous, but you make me feel better when I'm around you." He gave a mock sigh. "I guess I've been doomed for eight or nine months now, I just didn't know it."
"Doomed?" Jackson said, huffing a breath against Bellamy's skin. "This doesn't feel like doom."
"Doomed to fall for you," Bellamy whispered, grinning. Then he realized what he'd said and felt his heart start pounding.
Jackson sucked in a sharp breath, and for several heartbeats, he didn't move or say anything. Then his arm tightened on Bellamy. "Maybe I got hit with the same curse," he whispered.
Bellamy huffed a relieved breath. He'd half expected Jackson to--well, not to laugh at him, but maybe not to believe him. Or to say it hadn't been long enough for Bellamy to really mean that. Or... He shoved the doubts aside. "Yeah?" he breathed.
Jackson drew a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah."
Chapter Five
Fandom: The 100
Pairing: Bellamy/Jackson, mentions of Abby Griffin/Jake Griffin
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
WC: ~82,000
Characters: Bellamy Blake, Jackson, Octavia Blake, Aurora Blake, Marcus Kane, Inspector Grus, Abby Griffin, Clarke Griffin, Monty Green, Jasper Jordan, various OCs
Warnings: Bullying, minor character death, alcohol abuse
Notes: We're posting in chapters, but this is not a WIP. We also stayed mostly canon-compliant, but hand-waved a few things while writing this. The Ark doesn't have a limited supply of water in this fic. The timeline of Monty & Jasper's arrest is moved up a bit. And Jackson's backstory is AU, as this was written before 3x10, "Fallen", revealed info about Jackson's mother. Also, neither of us speak Hindi, so the single sentence we wrote in Hindi was googled. If you speak Hindi, and we got it wrong, our feelings will not be hurt if you correct us. :)
Summary: Bellamy Blake isn't one of the privileged on the Ark. His life as a guard cadet would be a lot easier if he weren't trying to keep his mother's secrets and protect his sister. What Bellamy doesn't realize is just how much a certain doctor has figured out about his problems, and how much Doctor Jackson wants to help.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two - Part One, Chapter Two - Part Two, Chapter Three
Chapter Four
When Jackson woke up, he was in Medical, and he could hear Bellamy swearing in a steady stream of anger.
"Cadet Blake," said Abby's voice.
Jackson pried his eyes open the barest slit, trying to focus.
"Bellamy," Abby said. "He's awake. I think."
Then a hand gripped his tightly. "J?" Bellamy whispered.
Jackson turned his head to look at him, which made his head start pounding. He winced, closing his eyes again. He tightened his fingers on Bell's. "Never saw that truck coming," he breathed, trying to piece together what had happened to him. There had been Jasper and Monty. And Allard. And… what was next?
"Open your eyes, Jackson," said Abby's calm voice. He obeyed reflexively, then winced as a bright light attacked his head.
Bellamy's fingers tightened on his.
"Concussion," Abby said. "Which is common when someone is hit on the head hard enough to make him lose consciousness."
"What happened?" Bellamy demanded softly.
"I was in the Skybox with the kids. Allard is a fucking asshole. Then I was coming here, and…" He shook his head, which caused another uncomfortable throbbing, and he reminded himself not to move. "I don't remember. Maybe it'll come back." He groaned. "Talking hurts my brain."
"Bellamy, you should grab that basin there," Abby said, and then a wave of nausea swamped Jackson as her fingers pressed against the back of his head. Bellamy's fingers released Jackson's and there was a clattering noise just a couple of moments before Jackson lost his fight with the nausea. Apparently Abby's warning was in time, because when he lurched to the side to vomit, a basin materialized under him.
Jackson heaved a few times, feeling tears roll down his cheeks as he did, and then rolled back onto his back, gasping. Abby wiped his mouth and cheeks, and he felt stupid. God, this was awful. He felt like he had no control over his body. "Oh God, knock me out," he panted, though even in the haze of his mind, he knew Abby couldn't do that.
He felt Bellamy's fingers close around his again.
"He'll be all right," Abby said. "Doctors always make for poor patients. There's no skull fracture, which was my biggest concern." Abby's fingers stroked Jackson's temple. "I'll give you some acetaminophen as soon as you can keep down a few sips of water."
"Allard is a fucking asshole," Bellamy murmured. "If he did this--"
"Cadet Blake." Abby's voice was sharp enough to make Jackson wince. "You will leave this to the official guard."
After a moment, Jackson heard Bellamy sigh. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he mumbled.
"He… he walked away from me," Jackson mumbled. "As soon as we left lockup. He needs to be…"
A flash of something came back to Jackson suddenly.
You talk to anyone about what you think you know, your pretty cadet boyfriend pays the price.
Jackson had no context for the memory. Not where he was or who said it. But he stopped talking anyway.
"J?" Bellamy's voice was worried. "What's wrong? Doctor Griffin?"
Abby's fingers touched his forehead. "It's not uncommon for concussion patients to doze off," she said. He could feel her taking his pulse.
"God, this is..." Bellamy whispered, but he trailed off. His thumb was sweeping slowly across Jackson's knuckles, back and forth.
"Take this," Abby said, and Jackson heard the rustling of cloth. Then the cold of an ice pack bit at the back of his head.
He hissed at the pain where the pack touched what was obviously a gash in his scalp. He groaned. "Where was I?"
"Not far from Medical," Abby said. "Though I don't know if that's where whoever it was jumped you, or just where they decided to leave you. Lieutenant Shumway is looking through the hallway video surveillance, but so far there's nothing."
Jackson hummed a noise of acknowledgement, and squeezed Bellamy's fingers. "I'm gonna be fine," he told him. "Couple days, I'll be on my feet again."
"Seven, minimum," Abby said crisply. "Probably more, depending on how much rest you force on him. Do I need to commandeer you from the cadet class?"
Bellamy didn't respond for several moments, and Jackson started wondering if he'd fallen asleep and was dreaming this conversation. Bellamy finally said, "I'll do whatever you say, ma'am."
Jackson felt a little surge of happiness that Bellamy was willing to take off training to take care of him, if Abby saw fit, but then the happiness was squashed by another memory.
Give Blake my regards next time you blow him.
God, if Bellamy took off to take care of him, it would be worse for Bellamy when he returned to training.
"N--no," Jackson said. "I'll rest. Promise." And then he sighed. He wasn't sure what he would do with himself for seven or more days.
He heard Bellamy sigh. "I can at least keep an eye on him when I'm not in training," he told Abby. "But if you think he needs supervision, say the word."
She hummed. "We'll see. Jackson, I'm keeping you overnight. Bellamy is going to go home and rest, and in the morning he'll be off duty for one day at least to get you home and settled."
"Yes, ma'am," Bellamy said.
Jackson squeezed Bellamy's fingers. "You," he said, then hesitated, because he wasn't sure how much of Bellamy's business he was comfortable with Abby knowing. But he had to offer. "You can stay at my place," he whispered. "If you want. If you need to."
He heard Bellamy chuckle, though it sounded strained. "I can hardly take care of you if I don't stay with you," he said softly. "But I locked the door this morning."
"Why would you do something like that?" Jackson teased, though after what had just happened, Jackson knew he needed to get better at that. Obviously, certain elements in the guard had their eyes on him.
Abby snorted and walked away, just as Jackson's stomach lurched again. "Keys in my pocket," he managed. "Need that basin again."
Bellamy made a panicked noise and pulled away, but he managed to get the basin up in time. This time Jackson was aware of Bellamy making a pained noise, and it occurred to him briefly to hope Bellamy didn't puke, too. But when he finished, Bell helped him lie back down and wiped his lips. Jackson heard him set the basin down, then Bellamy's fingers brushed through his hair.
"I hate this," Bell whispered. "I am so sorry they--" He choked on the words and then said, "I should have held out, you know. It would have been safer if I hadn't let myself feel this way about you."
"Shh," Jackson whispered. "This isn't your fault. I may or may not have told Allard to float himself."
"You what? J, do you have no self preservation instincts at all?" Bellamy sounded like he was trying not to show his anger.
Before Jackson could reply, though, he heard Abby's footsteps approach.
"I think you should go get some sleep, Bellamy," she said. Her voice was quiet, but firm. "Be back here around noon tomorrow."
Bellamy sighed but said, "Yes, ma'am." Jackson felt his fingers slip into his pocket for the keys. Then, to his surprise, he felt Bellamy's lips against his forehead. "Get better," he whispered.
"Mmm," Jackson hummed, reaching up to brush his knuckles to Bell's chest. "I'm better already. Ready to be released."
Bellamy made a faint noise of amusement. "No, you're not. Let Doctor Griffin take care of you tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."
His footsteps were slow as he headed for the door.
"All right. Let's get this cleaned and bandaged," Abby said.
"Mmhmm," Jackson hummed, and he was pretty sure he'd get sick again if he sat up, so he shifted over on his side, facing away from Abby so she could more easily access the back of his head. Then he braced himself for the pain.
"He's furious about this," Abby remarked as she worked. "I was impressed at the way he was able to set it aside to take care of you, though. You obviously had a better estimation of his temper than I did."
Jackson wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer, or if she was just talking to distract him.
He hummed a noise of agreement, ignoring the way his eyes were stinging from pain. At least he didn't want to throw up again. "He's a good man," he murmured.
"He seems to make you happy," Abby said, "which counts for a lot." She made an unhappy noise. "I don't think this needs stitches, but I'll keep an eye on it." He heard her ripping tape as she bandaged it, then she was urging him to lie back down. "If you remember anything else, tell me as soon as possible," she said. "Whoever did this is dangerous."
God, he didn't know what to say to that. He felt like it was his responsibility to report Allard and protect those kids. But he didn't want Bellamy hurt either.
Abby's fingers closed on his shoulder gently. "Get some rest," she said. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to check on you."
"Something for pain," he reminded her, and she left his side, returning a minute later to press a cool glass of water to his lips.
"Drink," she said, and he obeyed, swishing the first sip of water in his mouth to clear the taste of vomit. He took a few more sips, and then she sat silently by his bed for a little while longer, until it was clear he could keep water down.
She left again, and came back with pills that she helped him take. "Now rest," she said gently, and left the room, flicking out the lights as she did.
***
When Bellamy got back to Jackson's quarters from Medical, he was relieved to see no one waiting. He'd been half afraid they would be lurking around Jackson's rooms to finish what they'd started.
Had they just meant the attack on Jackson as a warning? Bellamy suddenly regretted his words to his mother the night before. She'd been right. Letting Jackson in, letting himself start falling for Jackson, it was dangerous. There was such a web of secrets and lies surrounding him, and Bellamy knew he couldn't ever explain it to Jackson.
That was one thing his mother was wrong about. Bellamy would never tell Jackson about Octavia, but not for Octavia's protection. He knew he could trust Jackson not to say anything about her. On the other hand, Bellamy was well aware of the fact that for three years now, he'd been on a knife-edge himself.
If Octavia was discovered, the Council might decide to float Bellamy along with their mother. There was no way Bellamy would put Jackson at risk, too.
Miserably, he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into Jackson's bed. He expected to toss and turn, but the bed was comfortable and smelled like Jackson. Bellamy slept hard almost at once.
The next morning he reported to Sergeant Miller, who informed him he'd been assigned to Medical for the day, and that Doctor Griffin had mentioned the possibility of needing him longer. Miller didn't seem to think it unusual, and fortunately he said it to Bellamy when no one else was around, so Bell didn't have to worry about Heron or the others finding out.
He thought about going to see Octavia for a while, while their mother was out, but decided not to. She'd be able to tell he was upset, and she would know it wasn't just because of the fight.
Finally it was close enough to noon that he thought he could report to Medical.
When he stepped inside, Abby was busy with something across the room, and Jackson was still in bed. The bed had been repositioned, though, so that Jackson was almost upright. He looked exhausted and unhappy, taking bites from a plate in his hand.
When he noticed Bellamy coming toward him, he smiled faintly. "There's two of you," he murmured, "how did I get so lucky?"
Bellamy snorted. "Maybe I should tell Doctor Griffin to keep you here until you're seeing straight," he teased, and went to lean against the wall next to Jackson's bed. "How're you feeling? And don't say fine, because I know better."
Jackson frowned. "My head is aching. My ears are ringing. Nothing tastes right," he said, poking at his plate. "But otherwise, I'm fine." He gave Bellamy a tiny, crooked smile.
Bellamy reached out and brushed Jackson's cheek with his fingers. "I hate seeing you hurt," he murmured.
"Now you know how I feel," Jackson said, inclining his head into the touch.
Bellamy couldn't quite suppress the pang of guilt at that, but he shook his head. "That's different. I'm training for the guard. It's my job."
"I was doing my job, too," Jackson said.
Bellamy tipped his head, studying him. "You remember more?" he asked. "You said Allard was being an asshole...which is typical for Allard."
"I remember everything with Allard. I remember him calling the kids shitheads and bastards very well. Things get hazy after we parted," Jackson said, frowning deeply.
Bellamy frowned. "I'll listen around, see if I can learn anything more about Allard. Those Skybox kids...some of them are shitheads. There are at least three in for murder. But most of them have it hard enough already without the guards calling them names."
He didn't point out there was a good chance he would hear plenty about whoever jumped Jackson. They both knew he would, but there was possibly nothing Bell could do anything about.
Jackson made an unhappy noise and shoved another bite of food in his mouth, making a face as he chewed. "Don't sniff around Allard," he said after a moment. "Just let this go."
"So you say I'm your boyfriend but I'm not allowed to help keep you safe?" Bellamy murmured. "I won't bring attention to myself. I'll just pay attention."
Jackson sighed. "You'd better not bring attention to yourself," he said, taking another bite. "Abby won't release me until I eat this, and it tastes like cardboard," he said, raising his voice enough that Bellamy knew Abby was supposed to hear the last part. He didn't miss the way Jackson had winced at raising his voice, though.
Abby shot Jackson a look, and Bellamy remembered her saying last night that doctors often made lousy patients. He suppressed a grin. "That sucks," he said, trying to sound sympathetic. "The sooner you finish, though, the sooner I can take you home and put you to bed."
Jackson took another bite, looking miserable. "I couldn't convince you to eat it for me, could I?"
"I heard that," Abby called, without turning around, and Jackson scowled at the back of her head.
Bellamy couldn't help laughing. "At least she hasn't benched you for six weeks," he pointed out, trying to look innocent.
Jackson scowled at Bellamy then. "I'm not broken," he muttered.
"If that delicious-smelling lunch of yours tastes like cardboard, you obviously are," Bellamy said. He looked over at Abby. "Doctor Griffin, is he going to be like this the whole time?" he asked, trying to sound like he needed sympathy.
She huffed. "I suspect he'll be even more of a handful after he hasn't worked a few days."
"I've eaten seventy-five percent of this," Jackson grumbled. "That should be enough."
Bellamy groaned. He sat on the edge of Jackson's bed and said, "If our positions were reversed, would you be satisfied at me eating seventy-five percent?"
Jackson gave Bellamy a glare that held no heat. "Depends on how much of a dick you were about it," he said, but took another bite anyway, making a show of it.
"You've been doctoring me for how many months now?" Bellamy said, giving him a humorous look. "I thought you knew me."
Jackson's glare faded. "Oh, but I do." He stabbed an overly large bite of food onto his fork and forced it in his mouth.
Bellamy leaned over until his shoulder pressed lightly against Jackson's. "You're cute when you're grumpy," he whispered.
Jackson slumped against him a little. "Glad you think so," he muttered. He took another huge bite, obviously just trying to get it over with.
Bellamy held in a sigh. "Sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh," he murmured. He raised his voice. "Doctor Griffin, he's pretty much done. Can I take him home?"
Abby sighed, then walked over to them. She didn't even glance at Jackson's plate. She held a bottle out to Bellamy. "Two of these every four to six hours as long as he's in pain."
"I know how to take acetaminophen," Jackson said, his voice flat.
Abby ignored him. "He needs to rest, physically and mentally. No sex. No chess. No reading even, for a few days."
"I know how to treat a concussion," Jackson grumped.
"Can I read to him?" Bellamy asked, looking at Jackson. He wasn't particularly surprised by the 'no sex' instruction, but he could feel his cheeks heating up at the fact she'd mentioned it.
"Yes, that's fine," Abby said, then put her hand on Jackson's knee. "Careful when you get up," she told him. "Let Bellamy help you. You could get dizzy."
"I know," Jackson said. He still looked unhappy, but resigned. He sat forward and swung his legs over the edge if the bed, then held a hand out for Bellamy.
Bellamy took Jackson's hand and moved closer, wrapping an arm around Jackson's waist. "Okay?" he murmured as he eased Jackson's weight against him.
"Mmhmm," Jackson hummed, sliding to his feet. When he stood, he sucked in a small breath and leaned heavily on Bellamy, his fingers gripping Bell's shoulder.
Abby watched him for a moment, and then Jackson straightened again. "I'm okay," he said.
"I'll make house calls for you," Abby said. "I don't want to see you anywhere near Medical for at least a week." She reached over and gave his upper arm a small squeeze, then she looked at Bellamy and walked away.
"Okay," Bellamy said. "We'll take this as slow as we need to. And if you need to rest, say so." He didn't want to actually move until Jackson indicated he was ready to do so.
"Let's go," Jackson said, and nudged Bellamy forward as they started to walk. He seemed mostly pretty steady, occasionally leaning a little heavier than he probably wanted to, but then righting himself.
When they rounded a corner into the hallway someone had found Jackson's limp body in, Jackson tensed.
Bellamy tightened his arm around Jackson, wondering if he was remembering something about the attack. Bell took a slow breath. "J?" He murmured.
"I'm okay," Jackson said immediately. "It was here, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," Bellamy breathed. He looked up into Jackson's face. "You remember that?"
Jackson was frowning. "I was here. And then everything went dark, but I was still awake," he breathed, then shook his head. "Let's keep going."
Bellamy nodded. "It'll be okay," he said, even though neither of them could know that, and continued down the hall with Jackson. He couldn't help hoping they didn't run into anyone they knew, so they didn't get interrupted on the way back to Jackson's home.
Jackson was quiet for a long time, his expression a little far off. Eventually, he expelled a breath. "I could probably walk on my own, if you want."
"Don't be ridiculous," Bellamy murmured. "First of all, I don't want. And second of all, I promised Doctor Griffin I would take care of you. Pretty sure that doesn't mean making you walk on your own."
Jackson made an unhappy noise, but didn't protest.
There were a few people in the next corridor, but Bellamy was relieved to see no one he knew. That wasn't the case for Jackson, though. A handsome, middle-aged man with kind eyes smiled warmly at Jackson.
"On your feet again, I see," he said.
Jackson looked like it hurt to smile, but he smiled anyway. "Thanks to your wife," he said. "And this one," he added, looking at Bellamy. "Ah, this is Jake Griffin, Senior Environmental Engineer and Deputy Resource Manager, and Abby's husband." He looked at Jake. "This is guard cadet Bellamy Blake. My boyfriend." Jackson was sagging a little more against Bellamy.
Bellamy tightened his arm around Jackson's waist a little more. "Sir," he said politely, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'd offer to shake, but--"
Jake shook his head, giving Bellamy the same warm smile he'd given Jackson. "If you let him go to shake my hand, you'd have a strike against you in my book."
Jackson's eyebrows rose. "My legs do work," he said, and Jake chuckled.
"It's just nice to see someone else taking care of you for a change," he said. "Clarke visited you this morning, but she said you were asleep and she didn't wake you. Pretty sure there's another portrait of you in her collection, anyway."
Jackson snorted and lowered his head. "God," he muttered, sounding embarrassed.
Jake laughed again. "I won't hold you two up any longer. If Abby finds out I kept you from resting, I'll never hear the end of it."
"Say hi to Clarke for me," Jackson said, looking back up.
"Sure thing," Jake said. He inclined his head to Bellamy. "Pleasure to meet you, Bellamy."
"You, too, sir," Bellamy said, smiling at him, and then kept up with Jackson as they got moving again. When he thought they were far enough, Bell ducked his head and murmured, "There are portraits of you out there?"
Jackson chuckled lightly. "A couple, I think," he said. He looked like he might be blushing slightly. "Clarke Griffin is quite an artist." He frowned in thought, then added, "Now that I think about it, I think I stuffed the last one she gave me into the back of the book I let you borrow."
"You're a good subject for a portrait," Bell said, smiling at him. "I'll have to look for it when we get back to your place. How are you doing?" He hadn't forgotten the way Jackson had seemed to slump a little harder against him a minute ago.
"Tired," Jackson said. "More tired than I have any right to be after being stuck in a bed the last twenty hours."
"You've been healing for the past twenty hours," Bellamy pointed out. "Healing wears your body out faster, I'm pretty sure."
"I…" Jackson trailed off and shook his head, shifting his weight off Bellamy again a little bit. He glanced at the people they were walking past, almost nervously, then said, "I'm dizzy again. Let's get to my bed."
"Lean more on me," Bell said, picking up his pace just slightly. "That okay?"
"Yeah," Jackson said, lowering his gaze to the floor as they walked.
After a few minutes, Bellamy looked over to see Jackson had his eyes almost closed, and he felt his chest ache that Jackson trusted him so much.
By the time they reached Jackson's rooms, Jackson was breathing a little heavier. Bellamy guided him inside and to the bed, then went back to lock the door. When he turned to look back at Jackson, he was fumbling his shoes off, looking sad.
"Hey, let me help," Bellamy said, moving to kneel in front of where Jackson sat. "Just rest." He looked up at Jackson's face. "What is it?"
"My body. Not working properly," Jackson said, he didn't protest as Bellamy pulled his shoes and socks off. He just watched. Bellamy wondered if he was just too tired to resist now, after all the grumpiness in Medical and then the long walk here.
Bellamy lifted his head to kiss Jackson softly. "I'm sorry this happened to you," he murmured, and started unbuttoning Jackson's shirt. "You'll feel better," he promised. "Just think of this as a chance to catch up on your sleep."
"I can't sleep for seven solid days. What am I supposed to do with myself?" Jackson said, letting Bellamy push his shirt off his shoulders.
"Doctor Griffin said I could read to you," Bellamy said, dropping a kiss on Jackson's shoulder. He knew he shouldn't get too into kissing, since Jackson was in no condition for it. But Jackson had very nice shoulders. "So you can pick a very long book," he added with a laugh.
Jackson's lips formed an unhappy smile. "And when you're in training?" he said.
Bellamy didn't know what to say to that. He found himself wishing, ridiculously, that he could send Octavia to keep Jackson company while he was in training, even though it was impossible. He took a breath. "I'll ask Doctor Griffin to pull me for medical the rest of the week. Sergeant Miller didn't seem to think there was anything unusual about it."
"No," Jackson said immediately, with an unexpected amount of intensity. He expelled a breath, then said more softly, "No. You don't need to miss work for me."
"I wouldn't mind," Bellamy said, trying to catch Jackson's gaze. "Especially since I'm not convinced this isn't my fault."
Jackson sighed, looking back at Bellamy. "It's not your fault," he said. "But we both know certain members of the guard would have another excuse to haze you if you were off a week or more to take care of me."
Bellamy frowned at him. "They don't--" he began, and then pressed his lips together. He wanted to convince Jackson that Bellamy could handle this, and that Bellamy had good reasons for putting up with this. But he couldn't explain that this was about protecting his mother, because as far as Jackson knew, they'd only made nasty remarks that couldn't cause physical harm.
Bellamy knew better. If he ever stood up to Grus and his boys or tried to report him for his behavior, Grus would blow the whistle on his mom, and that could end up with his mom being floated. He drew in a breath. "There's... There's stuff I don't think I can explain, J. I don't think there would be anything but talk if I took the week off. But I don't want you worrying about it. So if you need me to go back tomorrow, I will. Only if you promise me you won't push yourself."
Jackson's gaze was unsure, almost guarded for a moment, then he looked away. "I need you to go back tomorrow," he said, looking down to his pants and starting to pull open the button.
Bellamy swallowed and looked away. Had he given Jackson the impression Bellamy didn't trust him? He hated that thought, but he couldn't think of any way to fix it. "Do you need help with those?" he asked, trying for a lighter tone. "I'm not sure I trust myself to keep my hands off you if I have to take your pants off, but Doctor Griffin was pretty clear about my keeping my hands to myself while you're recovering."
"I can handle it," Jackson said, shifting a little to push his pants over his hips. He looked at Bellamy, then inclined his head to the bookshelf. "Foundation by Isaac Asimov," he said. "There are three books in the series. The original series. That will take some time."
Bellamy grinned at him, pleased Jackson was taking him up on the offer. He went and found the book on the shelf, then glanced over his shoulder at Jackson. "You need anything? Water?"
"Please," Jackson said, sliding into bed in his boxers.
Bellamy got two bottles of water and carried the water and book to the bed. "Scoot over," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Oh, before I get settled, do you need any more acetaminophen? Doctor Griffin didn't say when you last took any."
"Around eleven, I think," Jackson murmured. "My brain is a bit hazy, but it's not three yet, is it?"
"Nope. Not quite one." Bellamy reached out and brushed his fingers through Jackson's hair. He looked tired, unhappy, and pained, and Bellamy wished he could fix all of that. His stomach twisted a little. He wasn't used to needing anyone but his mom and Octavia, but it occurred to him that he needed Jackson. More than that, he wanted Jackson. God, how had this happened?
At some point, Jackson had closed his eyes, and Bellamy realized he'd been silent for a while. Bellamy wondered if Jackson had fallen asleep, but eventually, Jackson sighed heavily. "Can I convince you to strip and join me in bed? Honestly, I'm too tired and headachey to take advantage of you."
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "Of course." He'd been planning to sit next to Jackson while he read, but this would be even better. He set the book on the bedside table and started undressing. When he was down to his boxers, he said, "Do you want me to read, or do you want the lights out?"
"Read," Jackson murmured. "I've spent the better part of a day sleeping."
Bellamy had been thinking they might talk for a while, even with the lights out, but he climbed in bed and slouched down next to Jackson. He held his arms open. "Want to come here?" he offered.
"Mmhmm," Jackson hummed, then shifted into Bellamy's arms.
Bellamy let out a long breath, wrapping his arms securely around Jackson. "I wanted to do this last night. Well, with more clothes on. But I figured Doctor Griffin would shout." He smoothed a hand down Jackson's arm. This felt good, just being together like this.
"She… she doesn't get you, but I think she's trying to. For my sake," Jackson breathed. "I doubt she would have shouted unless you were accidentally doing something that might hurt me."
Bellamy made a thoughtful noise. It was weird, considering how much time he'd spent resisting Doctor Griffin, that now he wanted her to like him. "I hope I never do anything to make her shout at me, then," he said softly. "I don't ever want to hurt you." Even if he was pretty sure he already might have done, just by letting himself get involved with Jackson.
"So far, so good," Jackson said. He kissed Bell's neck. "Have you talked to your mom?"
Bellamy sighed. "Not since the night of our date," he said after a moment. "She..." God, how could he make Jackson understand without also making him think Bellamy's mom had something against him personally? "She's not happy about the idea of me being distracted from my responsibilities," he said finally. That was certainly true, even if guard training was only one of the responsibilities he meant. "I'll try talking to her when you're feeling better."
"I literally just told you to let me recover alone for a week so you could work," Jackson said. "I'm trying not to pull you away from your responsibilities." Jackson let out a breath that seemed abrupt. "Tell her that. I want you to be happy and safe."
"I told her you're a good man," Bellamy said, turning his head to kiss Jackson's forehead. "I told her you cared about me even when I wasn't talking to you. She just--" Bellamy closed his eyes. He understood why his mom was so set against Bellamy's having a relationship with anyone. He just wished he didn't understand. He wished he could be pissed at her without having to also be fair to her. "I told you what... what she did to get my recommendation for the guard," he murmured finally, trying to keep his voice level. "What I think she did, anyway. I guess she's worried I'll throw all that away if I get too attached to you."
Jackson shook his head against Bell's shoulder. "That doesn't make sense, Bell," he whispered. "I'm not even involved in that."
"No," Bellamy said, "but it...it cost her a lot. She thinks..." Bellamy took a deep breath and then blurted, "She thinks I couldn't have earned a spot in the cadet class on my own. And since she went to such extremes to get me a spot, she's irrational about me keeping my place." He frowned. He wasn't sure he was making any sense at all, especially to someone with a concussion.
Jackson sighed heavily, but shifted closer to Bellamy."M'sorry," he said. "If I could just… when I'm better, do you think she might have dinner with us? I could try to show her I'm not a threat."
"I'll suggest it," Bellamy said. "I really hadn't expected her to react quite as strongly as she did. I know she doesn't like change, but..." Of course, he'd made it even worse with his remark about Grus. As angry as he was at her, he had probably deserved that slap.
Bellamy turned his head to bury his face in Jackson's hair. "I told her nothing could make me walk away from you," he whispered.
Jackson tightened his arm around Bellamy. When he spoke, he sounded like he might be smiling a little. "Nothing?"
"Well, I guess if you suddenly turn into an asshole, maybe," Bellamy teased. God, he had the horrible, wonderful suspicion that he was falling in love with Jackson. Maybe he already had, before they even kissed. What was he supposed to do with this? He took a slow breath, hoping it wasn't too shaky.
"No guarantees for the next seven to ten days," Jackson murmured, kissing Bellamy's neck.
Bellamy let out a choked laugh. "I meant on a more permanent basis. Pretty sure I've been an asshole myself on occasion, and you've stuck around."
Jackson hummed thoughtfully. "I usually have a high tolerance for dickishness," he said. "Mmm, either read or turn the lights out. They hurt a little."
That made Bellamy laugh again. "I asked if you wanted the lights out," he pointed out, but he shifted Jackson's weight off him so he could get up and go to the light switch. As soon as the lights were out, he crawled back in bed, wrapping his arms around Jackson again. "Mm. I could get used to having someone to sleep next to," he murmured.
"Me too," Jackson said, snuggling closer. He pressed his face to Bellamy's neck. "Especially if they happen to be ridiculously handsome and strong."
Bellamy snorted. "I thought Doctor Griffin wasn't giving you anything that would get you high," he said. He stroked his fingers through Jackson's hair, staying carefully away from the bandage on the back of his head.
"I'm totally sober," Jackson murmured. "I did just take a pretty bad blow to the head, but I'm pretty sure I thought you were ridiculously handsome before that. I think."
Bellamy hummed in amusement. "I honestly don't know when was the last time I felt this...mm, happy, I guess," he murmured. "You're ridiculous, but you make me feel better when I'm around you." He gave a mock sigh. "I guess I've been doomed for eight or nine months now, I just didn't know it."
"Doomed?" Jackson said, huffing a breath against Bellamy's skin. "This doesn't feel like doom."
"Doomed to fall for you," Bellamy whispered, grinning. Then he realized what he'd said and felt his heart start pounding.
Jackson sucked in a sharp breath, and for several heartbeats, he didn't move or say anything. Then his arm tightened on Bellamy. "Maybe I got hit with the same curse," he whispered.
Bellamy huffed a relieved breath. He'd half expected Jackson to--well, not to laugh at him, but maybe not to believe him. Or to say it hadn't been long enough for Bellamy to really mean that. Or... He shoved the doubts aside. "Yeah?" he breathed.
Jackson drew a deep breath and let it out. "Yeah."
Chapter Five
