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geekystudmuffinTitle: Lips That Have Smiled, Eyes That Have Shed Tears - Chapter 2a/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
Chapter Five
Jackson felt Bellamy get out of bed the next morning, but he was too tired to complain, so he watched Bellamy get dressed and leave through half-closed eyes. He didn't feel like he had a right to look at him, though.
He needed to tell Abby about Allard, even if it meant Bellamy could get hurt. Whoever had attacked him in that hallway had obviously underestimated the commitment Jackson felt to his patients. To those kids.
In the end, Bellamy was a grown man who could fight back if he needed to, and Skybox kids were unarmed and helpless.
It had taken so long to gain Bellamy's trust, though, Jackson couldn't help but feel like he was breaking it, and betraying Bellamy. So he'd lain in Bellamy's arms last night and tried to enjoy it, even though he felt flooded with guilt and shame.
Bellamy returned maybe twenty minutes later with a tray of breakfast for Jackson, and then left again. The food tasted a little less like cardboard today, but Jackson still didn't want to eat it all.
Jackson tossed and turned in bed for the next few hours, dozing occasionally, but by the time lunchtime came, he felt like he might get up and start pacing. Or pick up the book still on his bedside table.
That was when someone tried to open his door. Jackson tensed, and then someone knocked. "Who is it?" he called.
"Clarke!" called the voice on the other side.
The tension in his body dissipated. "Gimme a minute," he said, and unsteadily picked his clothes off the floor and put them on. By the time he actually got to the door, he realized pacing probably wouldn't have been a good idea, since he was exhausted just getting dressed and walking to the door.
He opened it and Clarke was smiling at him from the other side with a tray of food that Jackson couldn't help but frown at. He wished people would stop trying to feed him.
"Mom got held up in Medical. She was afraid you wouldn't make it to the mess, so she asked me to check on you between classes."
"Come in," he said, stepping aside.
She stepped inside and carried the tray over to the bedside table. "Mom also said to make you sit in bed instead of at the table. I was afraid you'd be completely out of it like you were yesterday, but you look a little better," she added, inspecting him with a critical eye.
"I'm already tired of this bedrest nonsense," he told her, smiling faintly. "I never realized how much torture I've inflicted on people until now." He walked back over to the bed and sat on the edge.
"Yeah, healing people is totally evil," Clarke deadpanned. Then she sat in one of the chairs, pulling her knees up under her chin. "Honestly, Mom could probably use a concussion so she'd have to take a week of bedrest." There was something anxious about Clarke's expression, but she cleared it and looked over at the chess set. "Mom says you've been playing chess again," she remarked.
"Mmhmm," Jackson hummed. He wondered if Clarke knew anything about Bellamy. He also wondered how long he could ignore the food she'd brought him before she did her best Abby impression and ordered him to eat.
He pushed back in the bed so that he could lean against the wall. "Yeah, I started seeing someone who plays."
"Really?" she asked, drawing the word out playfully. "Tell me all about him. While you eat," she added, arching an eyebrow at him and looking meaningfully at the tray of food.
Clarke hadn't really ever seen Jackson with anyone before, but she did know he was gay, apparently. That was a relief. He'd started to wonder, with the way she liked to draw him, if she'd developed a schoolgirl crush on him.
He frowned at the tray of food, then reached over and pulled it onto his lap. "Evil mothers raise evil daughters, I see," he said, giving her a look as he took a bite of his food.
"I have my instructions, that's all." Clarke waited patiently as he took a couple of bites of food, then said, "So. About your boyfriend..."
"His name is Bellamy. He's a guard cadet," Jackson answered, though his head was starting to throb again. It was probably about time for more medicine. "He's very handsome. Like should-be-in-a-museum handsome." He dropped his gaze to his plate, grinning as he took another bite of food. He tried not to let the lack of taste dampen his expression.
That made Clarke laugh. "Wow, you really have it bad," she teased, but she'd tilted her head to study him. "I'm not sure I've ever seen you look so happy, and that's with a concussion."
"I am happy," Jackson said. "In pain, but happy." And as soon as I see your mom, I'm going to betray him, so I really don't deserve to be happy, he thought, and his smile slid. He forced it back into place, not wanting Clarke to ask questions. "What are you studying right now?"
"Still kidney-deep in biology," Clarke said. "I know I've been watching Mom in Medical for years, but she says I have to hundred percent earn an official place as her apprentice, so no one thinks I got special treatment." She darted a look at his plate.
"Mmhmm," Jackson said. "No shortcuts. Even for you." He took another bite and eyed her thoughtfully for a moment. She did seem to have a natural knack for medicine, from what he'd seen. He wondered for a moment what it must be like to have grown up in a family like hers, and how different his life would have been had he followed in his parents' very blue-collar footsteps.
"Especially for me, I think you mean," Clarke said, making a face at him. "It's okay. I would have to learn all this stuff anyway, if I wanted to be as good a doctor as you guys. Mom did say I could help out some in Medical this week, though, mostly doing paperwork and stuff, so you're not supposed to worry about her being swamped."
Clarke straightened all of a sudden, "What time is it? I don't want to be late getting back."
Jackson glanced at his watch on the nightstand. He really wanted the company, but he knew she couldn't stay long. And if she left, he could stop forcing this food in his mouth. "About one twenty," he said. Yep, time for more pain meds.
Clarke stood up. "Okay, I've got three minutes. Do you need anything before I go? And don't think Mom won't notice if she gets here for your house call and you haven't eaten. Just because I'm not here to make you eat doesn't mean you're off the hook."
Jackson sighed. "I'm good," he told her. "Thanks for coming by. I was getting stir crazy."
She folded her arms across her chest. "You're sure?"
Jackson almost snorted. Clarke's Abby impression was better than his own, but of course she'd had a lot longer to practice. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "Just lock it on your way out. I don't want to get up."
Clarke held her stern expression a moment longer, then smiled at him. "You should let me draw you and Bellamy sometime," she said on her way out the door. "Rest. Mom'll be by in a while."
Then she was out the door, leaving Jackson with nothing but his own thoughts again.
He stared down at his plate, considered dumping his food in the trash for a moment (surely Abby wouldn't check), but then shoved more food into his mouth. It was a physical activity he could do that wouldn't exhaust him, at least, even if the mostly tasteless food felt like chewing sawdust.
By the time he was done eating, the pain in his head couldn't be ignored anymore, so he took his medicine and tried to sleep again, just to stop his mind from racing.
It didn't work at first. He just wound up thinking about Bellamy, and what he was about to tell Abby, and how that would get Bellamy hurt, maybe seriously… and eventually wound up crying softly into his pillow. Which was the exact opposite of mental rest, he knew.
Eventually, though, he must have exhausted himself, because the next thing he knew, there was knocking at his door, and he was jerking awake.
"Jackson?" Abby's voice called, and she knocked again.
Jackson frowned. Had she been knocking long? "M'coming!" he called back, then pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the door, feeling foggy, but less in pain than he had been before he fell asleep.
He pulled the door open and blinked at her. "What time's it?"
"Almost four," she told him, stepping inside. "Go lie down. Did Clarke bring you lunch?" She closed the door behind her.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Four? God." He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake up, and walked over to his bed to sit on the edge. He didn't need to lie down for her to check him out.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, setting her bag on the table and starting to pull out her supplies.
"Bored. Useless." Miserable.
Abby shot him a look.
"Oh, you meant physically?" he asked, an edge of sarcasm in his voice. Then he sighed. "Head still hurts. Ears ringing slightly less. Food slightly less disgusting."
"Let me get this bandage off," she said. "You've been resting as instructed? Bellamy didn't let you get away with breaking the rules?" Her fingers peeled the bandage slowly away as she spoke.
"No, he didn't," Jackson said. "And I didn't try to convince him to. 'Bored' and 'useless' wouldn't be applicable adjectives to describe me right now otherwise."
Abby huffed in amusement, but didn't reply. Her fingers pressed gently at the swollen bump around the gash, checking to see if the swelling had gone down, he knew. ""How's your memory?" she asked.
Jackson's chest suddenly felt tight. "Better than I let on in front of Bellamy. Not great, though."
Abby quit prodding at the bump and sat back, her gaze sharp on his face. "You'll have to explain that a little better," she said.
Jackson sighed. "Allard didn't attack me, but I'm pretty sure he sent the person who did. And that person…" He looked away from Abby. "I need to report something to you that probably needs to go to Lieutenant Shumway."
"And why didn't you want to tell me this in front of Bellamy?" Abby asked, her gaze still on his. "He said he would leave it to the official guard."
"And he told me he wouldn't get into any trouble," Jackson said. "I'm pretty sure trouble will find him once this goes over my head, though."
Abby let out a short sigh. "Go on. I can tell there's a lot you haven't told me."
Jackson looked at her for a long moment, then decided to just start at the beginning. "Bellamy hasn't been the one picking fights. He's had a target on his back."
Abby's brows lifted, but Jackson just continued, telling her about what happened in the Skybox the other day, about how eager Allard had seemed for a reason to hurt one of the kids, what Monty and Jasper had said about him, and how he'd threatened to report Allard as soon as he was done in medical.
"Then he said something nasty about me and Bellamy, and I told him to float himself."
Abby was frowning thoughtfully, but that made her lips twitch. "I did wonder what made you angry enough to say that to a guard," she said. "You might not remember, but you told Bellamy that part the other day in Medical." She fell silent for a few moments, obviously thinking.
Then she raised her gaze back to his. "I'm assuming you haven't discussed any of this with Bellamy. Don't you think he deserves to know?"
Jackson looked down to his hands, which were folded in his lap. "Thing is, Abby… I don't know who attacked me, or how exactly, but I remember something they said to me." His eyes were suddenly stinging, but he told himself not to cry. "They told me that if I reported anything to anyone, Bellamy would pay the price." He sucked in a sharp breath. "But all those kids, Abby."
Abby was frowning at him now. "You think a young man who chose a career of protecting people, who obviously takes that very seriously, and who cares quite a bit about you, would want you to shy away from justice for those kids just to protect him?" Her voice was gentle, but stern. "You're the one who made it clear to me that I was underestimating Bellamy. You shouldn't do the same to him."
Jackson's eyes were wetter than they needed to be, and his vision swam. "If I was shying away from justice for those kids, I wouldn't be telling you any of this," he said. "They're children. And my patients. I feel a responsibility toward them." He drew a shaky breath. "But it was… so hard to get him to trust me. I've seen how quickly he can build his walls up. And he's been hurt so much. I couldn't take it if he pushed me away over this. I… can you just wait until I'm better so I can help fix him if he gets attacked?"
She sighed, but her frown faded slowly. "I could explain to Shumway that the threats were made not just against you, but also Bellamy. You don't think Shumway would protect one of his own cadets?"
Jackson shrugged and wiped his eyes. "I would hope so. But Bellamy obviously hasn't even reported to anyone that he's being bullied, so I don't… I don't know. I'm just telling you what happened. I trust you to do what needs to be done with it. Just wait until I'm well."
"All right." She didn't sound happy, but she started working on his head again, cleaning the gash and dabbing antibiotic ointment on it. "I trust your judgment normally, so I'll extend the same courtesy now, despite the fact I don't believe you're thinking clearly at the moment. Let me know if you change your mind."
Jackson frowned, ignoring the way her fingers sent pain through his head. "What part of any of that seems like unclear thinking? I may have a concussion, but I feel like I'm making sense."
"All right, maybe I phrased that badly," she said. "But as I said, I'll wait until you're feeling better to report this to Shumway. I do understand your fears, Jackson. But if Bellamy can't accept the fact that the wellbeing of your patients will always take high priority in your life... isn't it best to know that now? I won't mention it again, but I do think you should talk to him about it."
"I'm sure he knows my patients are a priority," Jackson muttered unhappily. "I don't think he will take it very well if he thinks my patients take priority over him, though."
Abby's expression went sad. "Sometimes they have to," she murmured. Then she straightened and smoothed out her expression. "Well, it's healing as well as can be expected. You're remembering the acetaminophen every four hours?"
"Trying to," he said, feeling emotional again. Abby was right. Sometimes his patients did have to come first. He knew that.
His eyes were filling with tears again when his door opened and Bellamy slid inside. Jackson blinked, tears spilling down his cheeks briefly before he wiped his face and looked down.
"I didn't mean to interrupt--" Bellamy began, then stopped. "Everything okay?"
Abby dropped her hand to Jackson's shoulder. "I'm afraid I've been poking at his wound," she said, her voice calm, almost casual. "Just about finished, though. I just need to rebandage this."
Jackson huffed a breath. She'd given him an out, but he sort of wished it wasn't one that made it look like he was that sensitive to pain.
He was silent, though, as she rebandaged his head.
"Can I get you anything? I thought it was too early for dinner, so I didn't stop by the mess hall," Bellamy said. "But I could get some food if you need it."
Abby turned her head to tuck some of her supplies back in her bag, and Jackson was pretty sure she was smirking just a little bit at the overly solicitous tone in Bellamy's voice.
"God, if I let you people take care of me all the time, I'd weigh three hundred pounds in under a month," Jackson complained lightly, though he gave Bellamy an appreciative smile. "I'm going to have to pick up extra basketball games when I'm able."
Bellamy laughed and sat in the chair Clarke had used earlier. "Sorry. Doctor Griffin just said your appetite wouldn't be good for a while, so I guess I default to food in case you forget to eat."
Abby was smiling when she looked over at him. "A natural reaction," she said. "All right, I'll leave you two alone. Send Bellamy if you start feeling worse for any reason. Otherwise I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." She stood up. "For another house call. You're not to leave your rooms for at least another day or two. We have to give the guard time to find whoever attacked you."
Jackson bit back that this confinement was already getting to him, and nodded. Then Abby said goodbye to them both and was gone.
Jackson sighed and looked at Bellamy. "How was training today? Get any shit for being gone to look after me yesterday?"
Bellamy shook his head, frowning faintly. "I expected at least some snide remarks from a couple of the guys, but...nothing."
Jackson blinked at Bellamy for a moment, surprised. Then again, maybe they were really going to lay off of Bell if Jackson kept his mouth shut. Too bad that wouldn't last long, now that Jackson hadn't kept it shut. "Good," he said finally. "I've done nothing all day. Clarke came by briefly, but didn't stay long."
"I'm glad you weren't stuck here by yourself all day, at least." Bellamy sighed and looked down at his boots. "I need to get out of my uniform. Keep talking to me. What's Clarke like?"
He started undoing his boots.
Jackson watched him for a moment, then looked down at himself. He wondered if he should undress too, if Bellamy was going to force him to lay down again. He looked back up and decided to ignore the question about Clarke for now. "Have I told you before how sexy you look in uniform? Even though I kinda wish I had the energy to take it off you myself."
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "I'm glad to know it's good for something. They sure aren't made for comfort." His pack was still on the floor against the far wall, and he fished out a set of civilian clothes, giving Jackson a nice view of his ass. "What should we do this evening?" he asked over his shoulder. "Since you taking this uniform off me is still out of bounds?"
"I don't know," Jackson said. "Just keep me company, I guess. I've slept most of the day." He wondered if he ought to offer some drawer space to Bellamy. Was it too soon for that? This living arrangement was temporary, wasn't it? Surely, Bellamy would make up with his mom soon.
Jackson's bladder got his attention before he could decide, and he sighed and pushed himself out of bed, making his way slowly to the bathroom.
He could almost feel Bellamy's gaze on him, but when Jackson reached the bathroom door, he heard Bellamy's footsteps walking across the room away from him. Bellamy must have decided he was steady enough on his own. When Jackson came back out, Bellamy was dressed again, except for his boots, and was sitting sideways on the bed, leaning against the wall. His gaze was warm on Jackson's face.
"So now that Doctor Griffin is gone, how are you feeling?" he asked.
"Tired of talking about how I'm feeling," Jackson said, and made his way back to the bed, sitting next to him and slouching against his shoulder. God, did he have any right to this anymore?
Bellamy chuckled and leaned over for a kiss. "Noted. Just tell me if you start feeling lousy, and I'll quit asking."
"Deal," Jackson said, resting his hand on Bellamy's thigh.
"The other night you said something about your mom's language books," Bellamy said, his gaze on the bookshelf across the room. "What was she like?"
Jackson smiled faintly, grateful for the distraction. "Smart. Very smart. Her parents were very strict about speaking Hindi only in their home, but she recognized pretty young that if she didn't want to grow up isolated on her Ark section, she had to learn English, so she taught herself. I guess she kind of fell in love with languages then. She was fluent in Hindi, English, and French when she died, and able to have stilted conversation in Spanish." He sighed. "She probably should have been a teacher, but when it was time for her to enter into career training, there were too many teachers. So she wound up on Agro Station learning how to grow soy."
Bellamy glanced at him, impressed. "She taught herself? That's incredible. She must have been really smart."
Jackson nodded against Bellamy's shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with being a farmer, but I know she never felt very fulfilled at it." He shrugged. "I never had a knack for languages. I can say 'I love you' in Hindi, but that's about it. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of her books, though."
Bellamy hummed thoughtfully. "When you told me you'd wanted to be a doctor since you were eleven, I was kind of jealous. I mean, I like guard training, but I've never really known if being a guard was what I wanted, or just what Mom wanted for me." He laced his fingers with Jackson's. "But it must be worse to have a passion for something and not be able to pursue it."
Jackson sighed, squeezing Bellamy's fingers. "Yeah," he said. "She tutored a little on the side when I was younger, but when I told her I wanted to be a doctor, after dad died, she stopped so she could be home with me more, and focused her energy on helping me study. I guess she didn't want the same thing to happen to me."
"She sounds great," Bellamy murmured. "Did your dad speak any of those languages?"
"No," Jackson said. "Just a few words here and there, like me, but he only really knew English."
"So...how do you say 'I love you' in Hindi?" Bellamy asked slowly.
Jackson blinked, surprised by the question. He suddenly realized he hadn't actually spoken the words since she'd died. "Oh, God," he murmured. "I… I haven't said it in so long. Gimme a minute."
Bellamy leaned against him lightly. "Out of practice?"
"Yeah, last time I said it was to her. Uh… main… main tumse pyaar kartaa hoon... I think," he said, looking up at Bellamy with a small smile.
Bellamy chuckled. "Your language skills are a little rustier than your chess," he teased, but he squeezed Jackson's hand lightly.
Jackson laughed too, ignoring the little surge of pain it caused in his head. "They were never that great to begin with," he admitted, leaning in for a kiss.
"Mm." Bellamy's free hand brushed his cheek as he returned the kiss. "I'd say you could practice with me, but I wouldn't have any idea of anything you were saying," he murmured. "And I probably shouldn't be making you think that hard, anyway."
Jackson kissed Bell again. "You want me to practice saying 'I love you' to you?" he murmured, then stilled a little at how that might sound. Jackson was pretty sure he did have some very deep feelings for Bellamy developing, but it felt like it was happening so fast. And did he even have the right to feel them after what he just told Abby? He forced himself to finish what he was saying, hoping his tone was light. "Because it's literally all I know."
Bellamy laughed again, though it sounded a little odd. "Guess I'd rather not hear it unless it's in English, anyway," he murmured. "Since that's all I speak." He shifted enough to kiss Jackson more slowly and thoroughly, but when he pulled back, he moved away a little. "I'm probably getting close to breaking Doctor Griffin's rules."
Jackson's chest suddenly felt too tight to breath. He didn't deserve this anymore. "I wish I could let you," he muttered, frowning and dropping his head to Bellamy's shoulder.
"Not like I'm going anywhere," Bellamy said, his tone light. "Considering how long you spent getting me to even talk to you about stuff, I can wait a week or two while your concussion heals."
And then you might be the one hurt, Jackson thought. Before he could stop it, a small, pained noise bubbled up out of his chest and his eyes started to sting.
"Hey," Bellamy said softly. He snaked an arm around Jackson's shoulders and pulled him closer. "What's wrong?"
Jackson made a noise of protest and pulled away. "I just… don't deserve you."
"What--" Bellamy pulled him back. "You've got to be kidding me. That concussion has messed up your brain." He huffed. "If anyone doesn't deserve this, it's me."
Jackson huffed an unhappy laugh, but slumped against Bellamy anyway. Bellamy may push him away in a couple minutes, so he might as well let himself be physically comforted a little while longer. "You only think that because you don't know I just… I just reported something to Abby, knowing it will probably get you beaten up again. Or worse."
Bellamy sighed. "You remembered more about the attack, didn't you? Look, you can't let them get away with what they did, and it's not like I'm not used to it." He tightened his arm around Jackson. "Tell me."
The tightness in Jackson's chest loosened, but was replaced by a dull ache. Was Bellamy really not going to be angry about this? "Allard. He's hurting those kids. They told me so themselves," he said. "They're my patients, Bell. My responsibility."
He felt Bellamy tense against him. "He's hurting them? I knew he was a dick, but..." He made an angry noise. "Damn it. That's--that's not what guards are... We're supposed to protect people. You and Abby have to report that, J."
Jackson slid an arm around Bell's waist, sensing his anger, but knowing he didn't know the whole story yet. "I told Allard I was going to report him as soon as I was back at Medical. And then I obviously didn't make it to Medical conscious." Jackson cleared his throat, ignoring the wetness in his eyelashes. "Other than everything being dark, the only thing I remember about being attacked was that they… they told me if I reported anything to anyone, they'd hurt you." He drew a shaky breath, then choked out, "And I just told Abby everything."
Bellamy went still, and for too many heartbeats, he didn't say anything, while Jackson's stomach churned nervously. Then Bellamy pulled away, just as he'd feared. But before Jackson could think of what to say, Bellamy's hand was touching his jaw.
"You seriously considered keeping that quiet just to protect me?" Bellamy breathed. He had shifted around to look Jackson in the face.
Jackson knew the tears in his eyes were threatening to spill over, but he held Bellamy's gaze and nodded. "Briefly," he said, voice shaky.
"God." Bellamy leaned in and kissed him. "I'm one person, and I'm on more equal footing with those assholes. Those Skybox kids can't stand up to a guard without getting hurt. You shouldn't have hesitated." He gave Jackson a lopsided smile. "I kind of love that you did, but you really shouldn't have."
Jackson let out a shuddery breath and closed his eyes, letting tears slide down his cheeks. Those were exactly his reasons for telling Abby, and maybe he'd hesitated longer than he might have otherwise because of the fog of concussion. But he also couldn't deny he had been afraid, too. "I thought you would hate me," he whispered.
"That's just dumb," Bellamy said softly. His thumb brushed away Jackson's tears. "I'm going to blame all this on the concussion." Jackson felt Bellamy's lips brush his. "I don't think I could ever hate you."
Jackson let out a choked noise. "I hate this," he breathed.
"What can I do to help?" Bellamy asked.
That made Jackson huff a sad laugh. "Nothing," he said. "Abby agreed to sit on it until I'm well, so I'll be in Medical again before they have reason to retaliate against you." He opened his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Bell. You don't deserve this."
Bellamy was scowling at him, but Jackson had never realized how affectionate a scowl could look. Bell leaned in and kissed him again, then settled back beside him, pulling him close. "You don't owe me any apologies. Allard and half a dozen others of G--the guard do, but not you."
"I can still be sorry," Jackson said. God, he was exhausted, and he suddenly felt like crying for an entirely different reason. Bellamy understood.
"As long as you know I agree with your decision," Bellamy said. He exhaled slowly. "This is why you were upset when I came home, isn't it?"
Jackson drew a shaky breath, melting against Bellamy. "Yeah."
Bellamy stroked a hand up and down Jackson's arm, a slow, soothing gesture. "Well, it's out of your hands now," he said after a while. "So you don't need to worry about it anymore."
"Except I do," Jackson murmured, letting Bellamy's touch relax him. "I might have to put you back together again after I go back to work. What if it's worse than broken ribs this time?"
"Then we deal with it. Who knows, maybe if Allard gets kicked out of the guard, they'll start keeping a closer eye on the rest of them, too." Bellamy's voice was low; he didn't sound like he believed it himself.
"Maybe," Jackson said, wishing there was more certainty in his own voice. He turned his head and kissed Bellamy's neck. He swallowed hard. "I've never been this afraid before," he admitted in a whisper.
Bellamy was quiet again for a while, then he sighed. "I probably ought to be afraid," he said. "What does it say that I'm so used to the way they are that I just can't be bothered to worry about it until it happens?"
"That you're too used to fighting," Jackson said. "Even if you shouldn't be." He sighed. "I've never been in a fight in my life. Then in the span of days, I get attacked, my body stops cooperating, and my boyfriend is next." He shook his head slightly. "I can hold someone's beating heart in my hand and not flinch, but this…"
He felt Bellamy shudder. "Okay, I'd probably throw up if I had someone's heart in my hand, so I hope you don't think being afraid of getting beat up is a bad thing."
"Not bad, just… new." Jackson smiled faintly. "I got the impression the other day that you're a sympathetic vomiter as well," he said, his tone slightly teasing.
"You should really consider yourself lucky I didn't puke right along with you," Bellamy admitted. "Blood doesn't bother me at all, but someone starts puking, it's all over."
"I read a theory about that once, said it went back to our cave dwelling days. If one person ingested something that made them sick, everyone else threw up too because they'd likely all ingested the same thing." Jackson shrugged. "I don't know if I buy that, but it's interesting. And goes along with your theory that I have poor self-preservation skills, given that I am not a sympathetic vomiter. I think that's what you said. Mmm, anyway, my first day working with patients on my own, a nine-year-old projectile vomited all over me. Abby said it was a rite of passage."
Bellamy made a disgusted noise. "Now you're doing that on purpose," he complained.
Jackson laughed softly. He mimed holding a notepad and pen. "Note to self: if Bell pisses you off, describe people vomiting." Then he tucked the imaginary notebook back in his imaginary breast pocket.
"Oh, that's just mean," Bellamy said, laughing.
Jackson kissed Bell's neck again. "Those books you read teach you about psychological warfare?" he teased.
"Sure, but I never really took them seriously about using it against your boyfriend," Bellamy grumbled, good-naturedly.
Jackson smiled and let his eyes close. This felt so nice again. From the time he'd remembered the threat against Bellamy up until telling Bellamy about it, Jackson had been miserable and ashamed. But Bellamy had supported his decision to protect those kids first, and this felt good again.
He held his hand out, palm up, and Bellamy almost immediately clasped their hands together. "Promise I'll only use it if you really deserve it."
***
After a few days, Jackson started really grumping at Bellamy in the evenings. Bellamy tried not to mind, since he remembered how annoying it had been to have another week of desk duty after his broken ribs felt like they were healed. They finished Foundation and were halfway through Foundation and Empire when Jackson declared he was sick of being read to and wanted to play chess just for a change.
Bellamy refused on the grounds that Doctor Griffin still didn't want Jackson thinking that much, which sparked their first quarrel. Bellamy had started flipping through Leaves of Grass and Jackson had retreated to the bathroom, and they hadn't spoken for about fifteen minutes. When Jackson came back out, he found Bellamy studying Clarke's portrait of him that had been tucked in the back of his book.
They'd apologized to each other, but it was obvious they needed a little time apart so Jackson could quit feeling he was being babysat, so finally he convinced Bellamy that he should go see his mother.
And that was how Bellamy found himself standing outside the quarters he'd grown up in, staring at the door and trying to work up the nerve to knock. And that was stupid too, he thought, because didn't he still technically live here? His mother hadn't thrown him out. He'd left. But it seemed rude to just walk in.
Frowning, he knocked.
He heard someone shift inside, and then a clicking, and then there was nothing else for a long time.
Too long, actually.
Bell glanced at his watch. He'd thought his mother would be home by now, but maybe she'd been held up at work.
Bell let himself in and closed and locked the door behind him. The table was against the wall, where it stayed when O was home by herself and couldn't possibly drag it over the trap door in the floor on her own once inside.
"O, it's me," he said, and he heard her suck in a sharp breath.
"Bell," she said, sounding happy, and then the floor opened up and she sat up, beaming at him.
"Hey," he said, grinning at her. He held out a hand to help her up, and then pulled her into his arms. "Hey," he whispered again. "I missed you."
She was squeezing him tighter than it seemed like she should be capable of. "I missed you too," she said. "I knew you'd come back, though."
"For you? Always," he said. He kissed the top of her head. "I'd have been back sooner, but I've been staying with Jackson, and he had an accident, so I've been kind of keeping an eye on him. He's healing from a concussion."
The word accident left a bitter taste in his mouth, but if he'd told Octavia the whole truth, she'd have wanted to understand why it had happened, and that would force him to explain things he just couldn't.
"A concussion?" she asked, pulling back just enough to look at him without letting go. "What kind of accident? I wouldn't imagine doctors are as prone to head trauma as guard cadets," she said, tapping a finger against his head as she pulled away completely. She couldn't seem to stop smiling at him.
"He doesn't really remember," Bellamy said, "since when you get a concussion you forget stuff. And I don't know what you're talking about; I've only had one concussion in my life."
She hummed thoughtfully, giving him an appraising look, though her eyes were still bright and happy. "You were a mess for a few days," she recalled. "Is he getting better?"
"Getting there. He's better enough we argued earlier, because he thinks he's better than he is, and I know he's not." Bellamy grinned faintly at her. "He thinks since he's a doctor, he shouldn't have to listen to what Doctor Griffin tells him to do."
O seemed unable to not grin back at him. "First fight?" she said.
Bellamy shrugged. "Everyone fights. We got over it."
Her grin widened. "Did you kiss and make up?" she teased.
"Hey, you're too young to know about that," he teased back, messing up her hair. After being away a few days, though, it was sort of shocking how grown up she looked. She was sixteen. Their mom must have some plan for her. Octavia couldn't spend her entire life under the floor.
She stared at him for a moment, smoothing her bangs back down. Then she snorted. "What's that face?" she said. "I'm sixteen. I've read books where people kiss."
"Sorry," he said, forcing a laugh. "I was just..." He shook his head. "When did you grow up on me? You're my baby sister. You're not supposed to be sixteen."
She tilted her head at him, smiling faintly. "Too bad, big brother," she said. "I am."
Bellamy scowled at her for a moment, then kissed her forehead. "I brought something to show you," he said, guiding her over to sit on the bed. He wanted to have time to hide the picture if their Mom came in, and she wouldn't see the bed the moment she opened the door.
"What is it?" Octavia asked, sounding interested. She sat next to him and gave him an expectant look.
Bellamy couldn't keep from smiling as he pulled Clarke's portrait out of his jacket. "So the other doctor on GoSci station is Doctor Griffin, right? And her daughter's an artist. So even though you can't meet Jackson right now, I thought you might want to see what he looks like." He handed her the paper.
She was beaming at him as she took it, then she unfolded it and looked down. Her eyebrows shot up and she sucked in a small breath. The portrait captured Jackson in profile, looking relaxed and happy. "Wow," Octavia said, almost a little breathlessly, staring at it.
Bellamy laughed. "I know. And he's a doctor." He nudged her. "Out of my league, right?"
"Oh my God, yes," she said, laughing. She glanced over at him, as if to make sure he knew she was joking, then looked back down. "He has very kind eyes."
"He's a very kind man," Bellamy said softly. "I tried so hard not to fall for him, O. I know Mom's right about...about keeping you safe, and not letting people too close. But..." He drew a slow breath and lowered his voice. "I really like him. You would, too."
She smiled up at him warmly for a few long moments, and then her expression faltered and she looked away. "I wish I could meet him."
Bellamy put an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, maybe someday. Mom must have a plan of some kind, right?" He squeezed her gently. "I may tease about locking you in the floor until you're too old for boys, but...I want you to find someone who makes you as happy as I feel when I'm with J. We just have to figure out a way to make that happen."
Octavia huffed. She was still looking down at the portrait, but now she looked unhappy. She leaned against him. "Sometimes I wonder what the point of even having me was," she admitted. "I feel like I might go crazy before I get out."
"Maybe Mom had too much love for one kid," Bellamy said, but the response was automatic. The older he got, the more he questioned the decisions their mom had made, and the fewer answers he had. "I just know I can't imagine my life without you, O." He leaned his head on hers.
"If I'd never been born, you wouldn't know the difference," she muttered. She turned her head to press her cheek to his shoulder. "You seem so happy. And I'm so happy for that. But… sixteen years, Bell. I read about so much in books that I know I should be…" She sucked in a sharp breath and straightened, shaking her head. "Sorry. It's fine. I'm fine."
Bellamy closed his eyes. "Don't apologize for wanting more," he said softly. He wanted to promise he would talk to their mom, but he had a feeling their mom wouldn't be inclined to listen to anything he said. After a while, he said, "Okay...I have a horrible idea."
Octavia looked surprised by that, her eyes widening. But she looked over at him and held his gaze with interest. "Tell me," she demanded.
"Uh. So Jackson wants to try to 'win Mom over'," Bellamy said. "Because it bothers him that I walked out the other night. And obviously I couldn't tell him the truth about why, but..." He glanced over at Octavia, who was watching him. "Anyway, I know you couldn't really meet him. But...maybe we could talk Mom into letting me and J have dinner here. I know it wouldn't be the same, but..."
"I won't make a sound," she said emphatically, almost breathlessly. Her expression still looked unhappy, but also eager.
Bellamy gave her an unhappy smile. "It's a terrible idea, and you know Mom won't go for it," he said. But God, he hated how unhappy Octavia looked. And worse, he couldn't do anything about it. She was too old for piggyback rides and bedtime stories to make her feel better, and he hated that he didn't have the ability to fix her problems any more. "But I can at least try."
She nodded. "I'll help you convince her. If she can be convinced," she said, then leaned against his shoulder again. "God, she's been a nightmare since you left. I know you had to, and I'm happy for you that you were able escape for a while, but… mom's not any fun. And I can't talk to her like I can you."
Escape for a while, Bellamy thought, and felt a sudden pang of guilt. He hadn't even thought about actually coming back to stay. He'd taken for granted that Jackson might get used to having him around and ask him to stay there. Which was entirely unfair to Octavia. "I should have visited sooner," he said softly. "I just couldn't get away from training when I was sure Mom wouldn't be here."
"It's okay," she said. "I know. Hopefully you and mom can work it out, though. I mean, she does seem really sorry, and… what you said…"
Bellamy took a slow breath. "I know. It wasn't fair. I just..." He ducked his head. "Do you think I could have gotten a guard appointment without her help, O? I--I don't think Mom thinks that I could have." He swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat. "I disappoint her."
"Sometimes I think mom sees even less than I do," Octavia said. "She's so… fucking paranoid."
"Octavia, language," Bellamy said, imitating Mom. But he couldn't quite suppress his laughter as he said it. "I know you see me better than she does," he whispered, and hugged his sister closer. He took a deep breath. "No one's ever seen me the way you do. And only Jackson has ever tried."
"I love you," she whispered. "I hope he does too."
Bellamy gave a choked laugh. "No way could he love me as much as you do," he said. "Or as much as I love you. You know, you made me the absolute luckiest guy on the Ark when you were born. No one else has ever been lucky enough to have a sister."
It was one of the stupid things he pulled out whenever she was feeling low, even if he knew she would roll her eyes at him, but it was true.
She snorted, and the sarcasm was evident in her voice when she spoke again. "Yeah, being chained by birth to the girl under the floor who could never share this life with you? Super lucky." She drew a shaky breath. "Maybe I love you more because I need you more. If I was a normal kid, I could afford to spread my affection out."
"What's normal?" Bellamy said, nudging her. "How would either of us know?" He'd grown up knowing his family was abnormal, but he couldn't imagine his life without Octavia.
Octavia huffed a laugh. "You would know better than me," she said, then eyed him. "Or at least you'd know how to pretend to be."
Bellamy shrugged. "I guess," he said. "But then, neither one of us knows what it's like to have a dad. Jackson lived with his mom and his dad, until he was twelve. Maybe there's no such thing as normal, even if nobody else has a sister."
"Maybe," she said. "What happened to his parents?"
"I don't know, exactly." Bellamy frowned. "He said his dad died when he was twelve, and his mom died a few years ago." He laughed faintly. "I'm honestly not even sure how old Jackson is, except a couple of years older than me, probably. Is it weird I don't know that?"
"Yeah, a little," O said. "If you love him, shouldn't you know everything?"
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "I want to know everything," he admitted. He paused, taking a long breath, then said, "You're sure you're okay with inviting him here?"
She looked up to hold his gaze. "Yes," she said emphatically. "If it's the only way I'll ever meet him, I want to meet him."
"Okay," Bellamy said. "I'll bring it up whenever Mom gets home, then. After Mom and I get things at least a little settled. Then you can jump in if you want to." He still wasn't sure their mom would go for this plan, but he'd promised Jackson he would try, and the idea seemed to appeal to Octavia.
"Okay," Octavia said, leaning against him again. "She'll be back soon," she said, finally offering Jackson's portrait back. "Tell me how it's been outside these walls the last few days."
Bellamy sighed. "Well, Jackson doesn't have any reason to worry about inspections. And... people come and visit him. Doctor Griffin was there when I got h--back this afternoon, and she didn't think it was weird I was staying there." Shit, he'd almost said when I got home, and that made him realize he'd said 'home' earlier when he was talking to Jackson.
But that wasn't right. Home was Octavia. Wasn't it? Or could home be two different people? Bellamy nibbled the inside of his lower lip and hoped O hadn't noticed his slip.
"That's so cool," Octavia said. She sighed, but it seemed relaxed. "Must be so nice not to be afraid all the time."
"I can't get used to feeling that relaxed," Bellamy admitted. "But it is nice."
Octavia smiled, then opened her mouth to say something, but that was when the door clicked open. Bellamy tensed and felt O do the same, but he folded the portrait of Jackson and put it back in his pocket.
The door clicked shut. "Sorry, I got held up when Isaiah--" Their mother stopped in her tracks when she saw Bellamy, a slightly pained expression crossing her face. "You came back," she breathed.
Bellamy took a steadying breath. "I'm not back to stay," he said, and felt O tense even more beside him. "Not yet," he added, to make her feel better. "But maybe we can talk about that."
His mother nodded, taking a step toward him, and then stopping. She dropped her gaze to the floor, the drew a shaky breath. "Have you been staying with your doctor friend?"
Bellamy knew he shouldn't be too confrontational, but he straightened a little. "My boyfriend, Mom. And yeah, I've been staying with Jackson. He's actually why I'm here now. He doesn't want to come between us."
She sighed, and when she looked back up at him, he wasn't sure if her gaze was disapproving or cautious. Maybe it was both. Whatever it was, it faded after a moment into sadness. She held out a hand. "Can you come here?"
Bellamy drew in a breath and then stood. "I'm sorry for what I said the other night. I was out of line," he said as he went to stand in front of her.
She looked up at him, lowering her outstretched hand. "I'm sorry I hit you," she said, her eyes going a little glassy." She drew a sharp, shaky breath, then stepped in and wrapped her arms around him. "It'll never happen again," she choked out, muffled against his shoulder.
"I know," he said. He lifted his arms to hug her back. "I forgive you." It didn't solve the disagreement about Jackson, but it was a start.
"Thank you," she said. She sniffed hard, then pulled back, brushing away wetness under her eyes. "Will you at least stay for dinner?"
"Sure," Bellamy said, surprised that she seemed so accepting of the fact he wasn't coming back to stay yet. He glanced over at Octavia. "I'd like that."
His mom shifted uncomfortably, and glanced over at Octavia. "Did you finish your studies for the day?"
"Yep," Octavia said, but her face told a different story.
Their mother hummed thoughtfully and looked up at Bellamy. "Do you mind helping her with it? I've had to bring extra work home the last few nights and I haven't caught up."
"Sure." Bell laughed at the look Octavia shot him and sat down to help her.
They got through her work and she told him about the book she'd been reading, and then their mom asked him to come with her to the mess to carry food back. Finally they were all three settled around the table again, and Bellamy knew his mom probably hoped it felt like old times again, but there was a new tension that hadn't been there before.
He glanced over at Octavia, deciding this was as good a time to bring up dinner with Jackson as any. "So, Mom..." he began, "Jackson feels like he maybe got off on the wrong foot with you somehow."
His mother froze, fork halfway to her mouth. After a moment, she sighed. "I don't want to talk about your friend, Bellamy."
"Boyfriend," Octavia corrected.
Their mother shot Octavia a sharp look. "You shouldn't be encouraging this," she snapped.
Bellamy clenched his jaw for a moment, trying to force back his rising irritation. "If I just broke things off with him the way you want me to, that would be more dangerous than staying with him. He would start asking questions he doesn't know to ask right now. So if you want to protect Octavia, you ought to try to go along with this."
She arched a brow at him. "Let him ask questions. As long as you don't answer them, we're fine."
"Yeah, but here's the part you don't get. I'm not going to break up with him." Bellamy straightened his shoulders. "He's part of my life now. And he's going to stay part of my life. And you might as well accept that sooner rather than later, just like Octavia has."
She straightened too. "I understand. I really do. You're a young man. You have needs."
Octavia actually choked in surprise at those last words, but their mother just darted an annoyed look at her, then looked back at Bellamy. "But this is too far," she finished.
God, had she really just said that? Bellamy stared at his mother, his mouth open. "This isn't about me having sex. This is about me having a life. Having someone who wants to take care of me as much as I take care of him. Having someone to spend time with that I'm not related to." He darted a look of apology at Octavia. "And I'm sorry if you've never had that, Mom. But if you want to talk about needs, this is what I need."
She looked profoundly unhappy, and slightly angry. She sucked in a breath and dropped her head into her hands, her elbows resting on the table. "If you could just…" She shifted uncomfortably, squeezing her temples. "I don't know what you want from me, Bellamy. If you want my blessing, that's not coming."
"I didn't expect your blessing, but maybe you could manage acceptance." Bellamy sighed. "He wants to have dinner with us. Obviously you're not open to that, but I promised him I'd ask you. So now I've asked you."
He started eating again, not looking away from his plate.
"Mom," Octavia said softly. "I'd like to have him over. I don't mind. I can't really meet him, I know, but I'd like to know him a little. I'll be quiet."
Their mother made an unhappy noise, but from the edge of his vision, Bellamy saw her shift and start to eat again. "So you want me to have company over and play nice, while you hide under the floor," she said, her tone disbelieving.
Bellamy glanced sideways at Octavia. "I told him we fought because you thought a relationship would distract me from my responsibilities. He assumed I meant my responsibilities training for the guard, like he was supposed to, and now he wants to assure you he has no intention of interfering with my career." He sipped his drink. "And maybe it would be good for Octavia to know a little bit about him. What if something happened to both of us? She wouldn't have anyone else she knew about who might help her."
His mother narrowed her eyes at him a little. "And how exactly is she even supposed to reach out to him if he doesn't know she exists?"
"I'm pretty sure she could make him believe she's my sister in the case of an absolute emergency," Bellamy said. "And no, he doesn't know she exists. I wouldn't tell him even if you said I could, because I don't want to put him at risk for getting floated. Give me a little credit." A thought occurred to him, and he glanced over at Octavia again. "And listen," he said slowly. "If the absolute worst happens, and we get found out somehow? Jackson has access to the Skybox. He's one of the doctors for all those kids in there. And this week, he found out someone's been mistreating some of those kids, and he reported it."
He cleared his throat and looked at Octavia. "I think that's how he ended up with the concussion," he admitted to her.
Octavia had been visibly tense since Bellamy had started talking about what might happen to her if anything happened to him and their mother. But when he finished speaking, her eyes widened a little. "He got himself hurt to protect those kids?" she breathed.
Bellamy pressed his lips together and nodded faintly. "He's a good man."
Octavia looked at their mother, her expression a little pleading. "Mom, what if something does happen to you two?"
Their mother's expression was calculating now, but she shook her head, her gaze going softer on O. "Nothing's going to happen to us."
"Mom, please," Octavia said. Bell wondered for a moment if Octavia was actually worried now about losing them both, or if she had figured out that Bell was trying to make Jackson look useful to their mother and was playing her part. Maybe it was both.
Their mother held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine," she said, sounding unhappy, but resigned. "When?"
"Maybe a couple of days from now?" Bellamy said, giving his mom a tentative smile. "We should probably make sure Doctor Griffin thinks it's okay for him to walk this far, but it ought to be before he goes back to work, because his hours are kind of irregular."
He couldn't believe she'd actually given in, but he knew it would make Jackson happy, and hopefully it would make Octavia happy too.
Their mother didn't return Bell's smile, but Octavia was smiling faintly at her plate now as she started to eat again. After a few moments, Bellamy felt her knee smack his under the table.
He nudged her back, smiling.
After a moment, Octavia started telling him about something she'd read, and the change in topic gave their mom time to relax. By the time they'd finished eating and Bellamy helped clean up, he felt it was safe to give her a hug before kissing Octavia on the forehead.
"I'll see you in a couple days," he promised, and left.
Chapter Six
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
Chapter Five
Jackson felt Bellamy get out of bed the next morning, but he was too tired to complain, so he watched Bellamy get dressed and leave through half-closed eyes. He didn't feel like he had a right to look at him, though.
He needed to tell Abby about Allard, even if it meant Bellamy could get hurt. Whoever had attacked him in that hallway had obviously underestimated the commitment Jackson felt to his patients. To those kids.
In the end, Bellamy was a grown man who could fight back if he needed to, and Skybox kids were unarmed and helpless.
It had taken so long to gain Bellamy's trust, though, Jackson couldn't help but feel like he was breaking it, and betraying Bellamy. So he'd lain in Bellamy's arms last night and tried to enjoy it, even though he felt flooded with guilt and shame.
Bellamy returned maybe twenty minutes later with a tray of breakfast for Jackson, and then left again. The food tasted a little less like cardboard today, but Jackson still didn't want to eat it all.
Jackson tossed and turned in bed for the next few hours, dozing occasionally, but by the time lunchtime came, he felt like he might get up and start pacing. Or pick up the book still on his bedside table.
That was when someone tried to open his door. Jackson tensed, and then someone knocked. "Who is it?" he called.
"Clarke!" called the voice on the other side.
The tension in his body dissipated. "Gimme a minute," he said, and unsteadily picked his clothes off the floor and put them on. By the time he actually got to the door, he realized pacing probably wouldn't have been a good idea, since he was exhausted just getting dressed and walking to the door.
He opened it and Clarke was smiling at him from the other side with a tray of food that Jackson couldn't help but frown at. He wished people would stop trying to feed him.
"Mom got held up in Medical. She was afraid you wouldn't make it to the mess, so she asked me to check on you between classes."
"Come in," he said, stepping aside.
She stepped inside and carried the tray over to the bedside table. "Mom also said to make you sit in bed instead of at the table. I was afraid you'd be completely out of it like you were yesterday, but you look a little better," she added, inspecting him with a critical eye.
"I'm already tired of this bedrest nonsense," he told her, smiling faintly. "I never realized how much torture I've inflicted on people until now." He walked back over to the bed and sat on the edge.
"Yeah, healing people is totally evil," Clarke deadpanned. Then she sat in one of the chairs, pulling her knees up under her chin. "Honestly, Mom could probably use a concussion so she'd have to take a week of bedrest." There was something anxious about Clarke's expression, but she cleared it and looked over at the chess set. "Mom says you've been playing chess again," she remarked.
"Mmhmm," Jackson hummed. He wondered if Clarke knew anything about Bellamy. He also wondered how long he could ignore the food she'd brought him before she did her best Abby impression and ordered him to eat.
He pushed back in the bed so that he could lean against the wall. "Yeah, I started seeing someone who plays."
"Really?" she asked, drawing the word out playfully. "Tell me all about him. While you eat," she added, arching an eyebrow at him and looking meaningfully at the tray of food.
Clarke hadn't really ever seen Jackson with anyone before, but she did know he was gay, apparently. That was a relief. He'd started to wonder, with the way she liked to draw him, if she'd developed a schoolgirl crush on him.
He frowned at the tray of food, then reached over and pulled it onto his lap. "Evil mothers raise evil daughters, I see," he said, giving her a look as he took a bite of his food.
"I have my instructions, that's all." Clarke waited patiently as he took a couple of bites of food, then said, "So. About your boyfriend..."
"His name is Bellamy. He's a guard cadet," Jackson answered, though his head was starting to throb again. It was probably about time for more medicine. "He's very handsome. Like should-be-in-a-museum handsome." He dropped his gaze to his plate, grinning as he took another bite of food. He tried not to let the lack of taste dampen his expression.
That made Clarke laugh. "Wow, you really have it bad," she teased, but she'd tilted her head to study him. "I'm not sure I've ever seen you look so happy, and that's with a concussion."
"I am happy," Jackson said. "In pain, but happy." And as soon as I see your mom, I'm going to betray him, so I really don't deserve to be happy, he thought, and his smile slid. He forced it back into place, not wanting Clarke to ask questions. "What are you studying right now?"
"Still kidney-deep in biology," Clarke said. "I know I've been watching Mom in Medical for years, but she says I have to hundred percent earn an official place as her apprentice, so no one thinks I got special treatment." She darted a look at his plate.
"Mmhmm," Jackson said. "No shortcuts. Even for you." He took another bite and eyed her thoughtfully for a moment. She did seem to have a natural knack for medicine, from what he'd seen. He wondered for a moment what it must be like to have grown up in a family like hers, and how different his life would have been had he followed in his parents' very blue-collar footsteps.
"Especially for me, I think you mean," Clarke said, making a face at him. "It's okay. I would have to learn all this stuff anyway, if I wanted to be as good a doctor as you guys. Mom did say I could help out some in Medical this week, though, mostly doing paperwork and stuff, so you're not supposed to worry about her being swamped."
Clarke straightened all of a sudden, "What time is it? I don't want to be late getting back."
Jackson glanced at his watch on the nightstand. He really wanted the company, but he knew she couldn't stay long. And if she left, he could stop forcing this food in his mouth. "About one twenty," he said. Yep, time for more pain meds.
Clarke stood up. "Okay, I've got three minutes. Do you need anything before I go? And don't think Mom won't notice if she gets here for your house call and you haven't eaten. Just because I'm not here to make you eat doesn't mean you're off the hook."
Jackson sighed. "I'm good," he told her. "Thanks for coming by. I was getting stir crazy."
She folded her arms across her chest. "You're sure?"
Jackson almost snorted. Clarke's Abby impression was better than his own, but of course she'd had a lot longer to practice. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "Just lock it on your way out. I don't want to get up."
Clarke held her stern expression a moment longer, then smiled at him. "You should let me draw you and Bellamy sometime," she said on her way out the door. "Rest. Mom'll be by in a while."
Then she was out the door, leaving Jackson with nothing but his own thoughts again.
He stared down at his plate, considered dumping his food in the trash for a moment (surely Abby wouldn't check), but then shoved more food into his mouth. It was a physical activity he could do that wouldn't exhaust him, at least, even if the mostly tasteless food felt like chewing sawdust.
By the time he was done eating, the pain in his head couldn't be ignored anymore, so he took his medicine and tried to sleep again, just to stop his mind from racing.
It didn't work at first. He just wound up thinking about Bellamy, and what he was about to tell Abby, and how that would get Bellamy hurt, maybe seriously… and eventually wound up crying softly into his pillow. Which was the exact opposite of mental rest, he knew.
Eventually, though, he must have exhausted himself, because the next thing he knew, there was knocking at his door, and he was jerking awake.
"Jackson?" Abby's voice called, and she knocked again.
Jackson frowned. Had she been knocking long? "M'coming!" he called back, then pushed himself to his feet and walked over to the door, feeling foggy, but less in pain than he had been before he fell asleep.
He pulled the door open and blinked at her. "What time's it?"
"Almost four," she told him, stepping inside. "Go lie down. Did Clarke bring you lunch?" She closed the door behind her.
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Four? God." He scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake up, and walked over to his bed to sit on the edge. He didn't need to lie down for her to check him out.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, setting her bag on the table and starting to pull out her supplies.
"Bored. Useless." Miserable.
Abby shot him a look.
"Oh, you meant physically?" he asked, an edge of sarcasm in his voice. Then he sighed. "Head still hurts. Ears ringing slightly less. Food slightly less disgusting."
"Let me get this bandage off," she said. "You've been resting as instructed? Bellamy didn't let you get away with breaking the rules?" Her fingers peeled the bandage slowly away as she spoke.
"No, he didn't," Jackson said. "And I didn't try to convince him to. 'Bored' and 'useless' wouldn't be applicable adjectives to describe me right now otherwise."
Abby huffed in amusement, but didn't reply. Her fingers pressed gently at the swollen bump around the gash, checking to see if the swelling had gone down, he knew. ""How's your memory?" she asked.
Jackson's chest suddenly felt tight. "Better than I let on in front of Bellamy. Not great, though."
Abby quit prodding at the bump and sat back, her gaze sharp on his face. "You'll have to explain that a little better," she said.
Jackson sighed. "Allard didn't attack me, but I'm pretty sure he sent the person who did. And that person…" He looked away from Abby. "I need to report something to you that probably needs to go to Lieutenant Shumway."
"And why didn't you want to tell me this in front of Bellamy?" Abby asked, her gaze still on his. "He said he would leave it to the official guard."
"And he told me he wouldn't get into any trouble," Jackson said. "I'm pretty sure trouble will find him once this goes over my head, though."
Abby let out a short sigh. "Go on. I can tell there's a lot you haven't told me."
Jackson looked at her for a long moment, then decided to just start at the beginning. "Bellamy hasn't been the one picking fights. He's had a target on his back."
Abby's brows lifted, but Jackson just continued, telling her about what happened in the Skybox the other day, about how eager Allard had seemed for a reason to hurt one of the kids, what Monty and Jasper had said about him, and how he'd threatened to report Allard as soon as he was done in medical.
"Then he said something nasty about me and Bellamy, and I told him to float himself."
Abby was frowning thoughtfully, but that made her lips twitch. "I did wonder what made you angry enough to say that to a guard," she said. "You might not remember, but you told Bellamy that part the other day in Medical." She fell silent for a few moments, obviously thinking.
Then she raised her gaze back to his. "I'm assuming you haven't discussed any of this with Bellamy. Don't you think he deserves to know?"
Jackson looked down to his hands, which were folded in his lap. "Thing is, Abby… I don't know who attacked me, or how exactly, but I remember something they said to me." His eyes were suddenly stinging, but he told himself not to cry. "They told me that if I reported anything to anyone, Bellamy would pay the price." He sucked in a sharp breath. "But all those kids, Abby."
Abby was frowning at him now. "You think a young man who chose a career of protecting people, who obviously takes that very seriously, and who cares quite a bit about you, would want you to shy away from justice for those kids just to protect him?" Her voice was gentle, but stern. "You're the one who made it clear to me that I was underestimating Bellamy. You shouldn't do the same to him."
Jackson's eyes were wetter than they needed to be, and his vision swam. "If I was shying away from justice for those kids, I wouldn't be telling you any of this," he said. "They're children. And my patients. I feel a responsibility toward them." He drew a shaky breath. "But it was… so hard to get him to trust me. I've seen how quickly he can build his walls up. And he's been hurt so much. I couldn't take it if he pushed me away over this. I… can you just wait until I'm better so I can help fix him if he gets attacked?"
She sighed, but her frown faded slowly. "I could explain to Shumway that the threats were made not just against you, but also Bellamy. You don't think Shumway would protect one of his own cadets?"
Jackson shrugged and wiped his eyes. "I would hope so. But Bellamy obviously hasn't even reported to anyone that he's being bullied, so I don't… I don't know. I'm just telling you what happened. I trust you to do what needs to be done with it. Just wait until I'm well."
"All right." She didn't sound happy, but she started working on his head again, cleaning the gash and dabbing antibiotic ointment on it. "I trust your judgment normally, so I'll extend the same courtesy now, despite the fact I don't believe you're thinking clearly at the moment. Let me know if you change your mind."
Jackson frowned, ignoring the way her fingers sent pain through his head. "What part of any of that seems like unclear thinking? I may have a concussion, but I feel like I'm making sense."
"All right, maybe I phrased that badly," she said. "But as I said, I'll wait until you're feeling better to report this to Shumway. I do understand your fears, Jackson. But if Bellamy can't accept the fact that the wellbeing of your patients will always take high priority in your life... isn't it best to know that now? I won't mention it again, but I do think you should talk to him about it."
"I'm sure he knows my patients are a priority," Jackson muttered unhappily. "I don't think he will take it very well if he thinks my patients take priority over him, though."
Abby's expression went sad. "Sometimes they have to," she murmured. Then she straightened and smoothed out her expression. "Well, it's healing as well as can be expected. You're remembering the acetaminophen every four hours?"
"Trying to," he said, feeling emotional again. Abby was right. Sometimes his patients did have to come first. He knew that.
His eyes were filling with tears again when his door opened and Bellamy slid inside. Jackson blinked, tears spilling down his cheeks briefly before he wiped his face and looked down.
"I didn't mean to interrupt--" Bellamy began, then stopped. "Everything okay?"
Abby dropped her hand to Jackson's shoulder. "I'm afraid I've been poking at his wound," she said, her voice calm, almost casual. "Just about finished, though. I just need to rebandage this."
Jackson huffed a breath. She'd given him an out, but he sort of wished it wasn't one that made it look like he was that sensitive to pain.
He was silent, though, as she rebandaged his head.
"Can I get you anything? I thought it was too early for dinner, so I didn't stop by the mess hall," Bellamy said. "But I could get some food if you need it."
Abby turned her head to tuck some of her supplies back in her bag, and Jackson was pretty sure she was smirking just a little bit at the overly solicitous tone in Bellamy's voice.
"God, if I let you people take care of me all the time, I'd weigh three hundred pounds in under a month," Jackson complained lightly, though he gave Bellamy an appreciative smile. "I'm going to have to pick up extra basketball games when I'm able."
Bellamy laughed and sat in the chair Clarke had used earlier. "Sorry. Doctor Griffin just said your appetite wouldn't be good for a while, so I guess I default to food in case you forget to eat."
Abby was smiling when she looked over at him. "A natural reaction," she said. "All right, I'll leave you two alone. Send Bellamy if you start feeling worse for any reason. Otherwise I'll see you tomorrow afternoon." She stood up. "For another house call. You're not to leave your rooms for at least another day or two. We have to give the guard time to find whoever attacked you."
Jackson bit back that this confinement was already getting to him, and nodded. Then Abby said goodbye to them both and was gone.
Jackson sighed and looked at Bellamy. "How was training today? Get any shit for being gone to look after me yesterday?"
Bellamy shook his head, frowning faintly. "I expected at least some snide remarks from a couple of the guys, but...nothing."
Jackson blinked at Bellamy for a moment, surprised. Then again, maybe they were really going to lay off of Bell if Jackson kept his mouth shut. Too bad that wouldn't last long, now that Jackson hadn't kept it shut. "Good," he said finally. "I've done nothing all day. Clarke came by briefly, but didn't stay long."
"I'm glad you weren't stuck here by yourself all day, at least." Bellamy sighed and looked down at his boots. "I need to get out of my uniform. Keep talking to me. What's Clarke like?"
He started undoing his boots.
Jackson watched him for a moment, then looked down at himself. He wondered if he should undress too, if Bellamy was going to force him to lay down again. He looked back up and decided to ignore the question about Clarke for now. "Have I told you before how sexy you look in uniform? Even though I kinda wish I had the energy to take it off you myself."
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "I'm glad to know it's good for something. They sure aren't made for comfort." His pack was still on the floor against the far wall, and he fished out a set of civilian clothes, giving Jackson a nice view of his ass. "What should we do this evening?" he asked over his shoulder. "Since you taking this uniform off me is still out of bounds?"
"I don't know," Jackson said. "Just keep me company, I guess. I've slept most of the day." He wondered if he ought to offer some drawer space to Bellamy. Was it too soon for that? This living arrangement was temporary, wasn't it? Surely, Bellamy would make up with his mom soon.
Jackson's bladder got his attention before he could decide, and he sighed and pushed himself out of bed, making his way slowly to the bathroom.
He could almost feel Bellamy's gaze on him, but when Jackson reached the bathroom door, he heard Bellamy's footsteps walking across the room away from him. Bellamy must have decided he was steady enough on his own. When Jackson came back out, Bellamy was dressed again, except for his boots, and was sitting sideways on the bed, leaning against the wall. His gaze was warm on Jackson's face.
"So now that Doctor Griffin is gone, how are you feeling?" he asked.
"Tired of talking about how I'm feeling," Jackson said, and made his way back to the bed, sitting next to him and slouching against his shoulder. God, did he have any right to this anymore?
Bellamy chuckled and leaned over for a kiss. "Noted. Just tell me if you start feeling lousy, and I'll quit asking."
"Deal," Jackson said, resting his hand on Bellamy's thigh.
"The other night you said something about your mom's language books," Bellamy said, his gaze on the bookshelf across the room. "What was she like?"
Jackson smiled faintly, grateful for the distraction. "Smart. Very smart. Her parents were very strict about speaking Hindi only in their home, but she recognized pretty young that if she didn't want to grow up isolated on her Ark section, she had to learn English, so she taught herself. I guess she kind of fell in love with languages then. She was fluent in Hindi, English, and French when she died, and able to have stilted conversation in Spanish." He sighed. "She probably should have been a teacher, but when it was time for her to enter into career training, there were too many teachers. So she wound up on Agro Station learning how to grow soy."
Bellamy glanced at him, impressed. "She taught herself? That's incredible. She must have been really smart."
Jackson nodded against Bellamy's shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with being a farmer, but I know she never felt very fulfilled at it." He shrugged. "I never had a knack for languages. I can say 'I love you' in Hindi, but that's about it. I couldn't bring myself to get rid of her books, though."
Bellamy hummed thoughtfully. "When you told me you'd wanted to be a doctor since you were eleven, I was kind of jealous. I mean, I like guard training, but I've never really known if being a guard was what I wanted, or just what Mom wanted for me." He laced his fingers with Jackson's. "But it must be worse to have a passion for something and not be able to pursue it."
Jackson sighed, squeezing Bellamy's fingers. "Yeah," he said. "She tutored a little on the side when I was younger, but when I told her I wanted to be a doctor, after dad died, she stopped so she could be home with me more, and focused her energy on helping me study. I guess she didn't want the same thing to happen to me."
"She sounds great," Bellamy murmured. "Did your dad speak any of those languages?"
"No," Jackson said. "Just a few words here and there, like me, but he only really knew English."
"So...how do you say 'I love you' in Hindi?" Bellamy asked slowly.
Jackson blinked, surprised by the question. He suddenly realized he hadn't actually spoken the words since she'd died. "Oh, God," he murmured. "I… I haven't said it in so long. Gimme a minute."
Bellamy leaned against him lightly. "Out of practice?"
"Yeah, last time I said it was to her. Uh… main… main tumse pyaar kartaa hoon... I think," he said, looking up at Bellamy with a small smile.
Bellamy chuckled. "Your language skills are a little rustier than your chess," he teased, but he squeezed Jackson's hand lightly.
Jackson laughed too, ignoring the little surge of pain it caused in his head. "They were never that great to begin with," he admitted, leaning in for a kiss.
"Mm." Bellamy's free hand brushed his cheek as he returned the kiss. "I'd say you could practice with me, but I wouldn't have any idea of anything you were saying," he murmured. "And I probably shouldn't be making you think that hard, anyway."
Jackson kissed Bell again. "You want me to practice saying 'I love you' to you?" he murmured, then stilled a little at how that might sound. Jackson was pretty sure he did have some very deep feelings for Bellamy developing, but it felt like it was happening so fast. And did he even have the right to feel them after what he just told Abby? He forced himself to finish what he was saying, hoping his tone was light. "Because it's literally all I know."
Bellamy laughed again, though it sounded a little odd. "Guess I'd rather not hear it unless it's in English, anyway," he murmured. "Since that's all I speak." He shifted enough to kiss Jackson more slowly and thoroughly, but when he pulled back, he moved away a little. "I'm probably getting close to breaking Doctor Griffin's rules."
Jackson's chest suddenly felt too tight to breath. He didn't deserve this anymore. "I wish I could let you," he muttered, frowning and dropping his head to Bellamy's shoulder.
"Not like I'm going anywhere," Bellamy said, his tone light. "Considering how long you spent getting me to even talk to you about stuff, I can wait a week or two while your concussion heals."
And then you might be the one hurt, Jackson thought. Before he could stop it, a small, pained noise bubbled up out of his chest and his eyes started to sting.
"Hey," Bellamy said softly. He snaked an arm around Jackson's shoulders and pulled him closer. "What's wrong?"
Jackson made a noise of protest and pulled away. "I just… don't deserve you."
"What--" Bellamy pulled him back. "You've got to be kidding me. That concussion has messed up your brain." He huffed. "If anyone doesn't deserve this, it's me."
Jackson huffed an unhappy laugh, but slumped against Bellamy anyway. Bellamy may push him away in a couple minutes, so he might as well let himself be physically comforted a little while longer. "You only think that because you don't know I just… I just reported something to Abby, knowing it will probably get you beaten up again. Or worse."
Bellamy sighed. "You remembered more about the attack, didn't you? Look, you can't let them get away with what they did, and it's not like I'm not used to it." He tightened his arm around Jackson. "Tell me."
The tightness in Jackson's chest loosened, but was replaced by a dull ache. Was Bellamy really not going to be angry about this? "Allard. He's hurting those kids. They told me so themselves," he said. "They're my patients, Bell. My responsibility."
He felt Bellamy tense against him. "He's hurting them? I knew he was a dick, but..." He made an angry noise. "Damn it. That's--that's not what guards are... We're supposed to protect people. You and Abby have to report that, J."
Jackson slid an arm around Bell's waist, sensing his anger, but knowing he didn't know the whole story yet. "I told Allard I was going to report him as soon as I was back at Medical. And then I obviously didn't make it to Medical conscious." Jackson cleared his throat, ignoring the wetness in his eyelashes. "Other than everything being dark, the only thing I remember about being attacked was that they… they told me if I reported anything to anyone, they'd hurt you." He drew a shaky breath, then choked out, "And I just told Abby everything."
Bellamy went still, and for too many heartbeats, he didn't say anything, while Jackson's stomach churned nervously. Then Bellamy pulled away, just as he'd feared. But before Jackson could think of what to say, Bellamy's hand was touching his jaw.
"You seriously considered keeping that quiet just to protect me?" Bellamy breathed. He had shifted around to look Jackson in the face.
Jackson knew the tears in his eyes were threatening to spill over, but he held Bellamy's gaze and nodded. "Briefly," he said, voice shaky.
"God." Bellamy leaned in and kissed him. "I'm one person, and I'm on more equal footing with those assholes. Those Skybox kids can't stand up to a guard without getting hurt. You shouldn't have hesitated." He gave Jackson a lopsided smile. "I kind of love that you did, but you really shouldn't have."
Jackson let out a shuddery breath and closed his eyes, letting tears slide down his cheeks. Those were exactly his reasons for telling Abby, and maybe he'd hesitated longer than he might have otherwise because of the fog of concussion. But he also couldn't deny he had been afraid, too. "I thought you would hate me," he whispered.
"That's just dumb," Bellamy said softly. His thumb brushed away Jackson's tears. "I'm going to blame all this on the concussion." Jackson felt Bellamy's lips brush his. "I don't think I could ever hate you."
Jackson let out a choked noise. "I hate this," he breathed.
"What can I do to help?" Bellamy asked.
That made Jackson huff a sad laugh. "Nothing," he said. "Abby agreed to sit on it until I'm well, so I'll be in Medical again before they have reason to retaliate against you." He opened his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Bell. You don't deserve this."
Bellamy was scowling at him, but Jackson had never realized how affectionate a scowl could look. Bell leaned in and kissed him again, then settled back beside him, pulling him close. "You don't owe me any apologies. Allard and half a dozen others of G--the guard do, but not you."
"I can still be sorry," Jackson said. God, he was exhausted, and he suddenly felt like crying for an entirely different reason. Bellamy understood.
"As long as you know I agree with your decision," Bellamy said. He exhaled slowly. "This is why you were upset when I came home, isn't it?"
Jackson drew a shaky breath, melting against Bellamy. "Yeah."
Bellamy stroked a hand up and down Jackson's arm, a slow, soothing gesture. "Well, it's out of your hands now," he said after a while. "So you don't need to worry about it anymore."
"Except I do," Jackson murmured, letting Bellamy's touch relax him. "I might have to put you back together again after I go back to work. What if it's worse than broken ribs this time?"
"Then we deal with it. Who knows, maybe if Allard gets kicked out of the guard, they'll start keeping a closer eye on the rest of them, too." Bellamy's voice was low; he didn't sound like he believed it himself.
"Maybe," Jackson said, wishing there was more certainty in his own voice. He turned his head and kissed Bellamy's neck. He swallowed hard. "I've never been this afraid before," he admitted in a whisper.
Bellamy was quiet again for a while, then he sighed. "I probably ought to be afraid," he said. "What does it say that I'm so used to the way they are that I just can't be bothered to worry about it until it happens?"
"That you're too used to fighting," Jackson said. "Even if you shouldn't be." He sighed. "I've never been in a fight in my life. Then in the span of days, I get attacked, my body stops cooperating, and my boyfriend is next." He shook his head slightly. "I can hold someone's beating heart in my hand and not flinch, but this…"
He felt Bellamy shudder. "Okay, I'd probably throw up if I had someone's heart in my hand, so I hope you don't think being afraid of getting beat up is a bad thing."
"Not bad, just… new." Jackson smiled faintly. "I got the impression the other day that you're a sympathetic vomiter as well," he said, his tone slightly teasing.
"You should really consider yourself lucky I didn't puke right along with you," Bellamy admitted. "Blood doesn't bother me at all, but someone starts puking, it's all over."
"I read a theory about that once, said it went back to our cave dwelling days. If one person ingested something that made them sick, everyone else threw up too because they'd likely all ingested the same thing." Jackson shrugged. "I don't know if I buy that, but it's interesting. And goes along with your theory that I have poor self-preservation skills, given that I am not a sympathetic vomiter. I think that's what you said. Mmm, anyway, my first day working with patients on my own, a nine-year-old projectile vomited all over me. Abby said it was a rite of passage."
Bellamy made a disgusted noise. "Now you're doing that on purpose," he complained.
Jackson laughed softly. He mimed holding a notepad and pen. "Note to self: if Bell pisses you off, describe people vomiting." Then he tucked the imaginary notebook back in his imaginary breast pocket.
"Oh, that's just mean," Bellamy said, laughing.
Jackson kissed Bell's neck again. "Those books you read teach you about psychological warfare?" he teased.
"Sure, but I never really took them seriously about using it against your boyfriend," Bellamy grumbled, good-naturedly.
Jackson smiled and let his eyes close. This felt so nice again. From the time he'd remembered the threat against Bellamy up until telling Bellamy about it, Jackson had been miserable and ashamed. But Bellamy had supported his decision to protect those kids first, and this felt good again.
He held his hand out, palm up, and Bellamy almost immediately clasped their hands together. "Promise I'll only use it if you really deserve it."
***
After a few days, Jackson started really grumping at Bellamy in the evenings. Bellamy tried not to mind, since he remembered how annoying it had been to have another week of desk duty after his broken ribs felt like they were healed. They finished Foundation and were halfway through Foundation and Empire when Jackson declared he was sick of being read to and wanted to play chess just for a change.
Bellamy refused on the grounds that Doctor Griffin still didn't want Jackson thinking that much, which sparked their first quarrel. Bellamy had started flipping through Leaves of Grass and Jackson had retreated to the bathroom, and they hadn't spoken for about fifteen minutes. When Jackson came back out, he found Bellamy studying Clarke's portrait of him that had been tucked in the back of his book.
They'd apologized to each other, but it was obvious they needed a little time apart so Jackson could quit feeling he was being babysat, so finally he convinced Bellamy that he should go see his mother.
And that was how Bellamy found himself standing outside the quarters he'd grown up in, staring at the door and trying to work up the nerve to knock. And that was stupid too, he thought, because didn't he still technically live here? His mother hadn't thrown him out. He'd left. But it seemed rude to just walk in.
Frowning, he knocked.
He heard someone shift inside, and then a clicking, and then there was nothing else for a long time.
Too long, actually.
Bell glanced at his watch. He'd thought his mother would be home by now, but maybe she'd been held up at work.
Bell let himself in and closed and locked the door behind him. The table was against the wall, where it stayed when O was home by herself and couldn't possibly drag it over the trap door in the floor on her own once inside.
"O, it's me," he said, and he heard her suck in a sharp breath.
"Bell," she said, sounding happy, and then the floor opened up and she sat up, beaming at him.
"Hey," he said, grinning at her. He held out a hand to help her up, and then pulled her into his arms. "Hey," he whispered again. "I missed you."
She was squeezing him tighter than it seemed like she should be capable of. "I missed you too," she said. "I knew you'd come back, though."
"For you? Always," he said. He kissed the top of her head. "I'd have been back sooner, but I've been staying with Jackson, and he had an accident, so I've been kind of keeping an eye on him. He's healing from a concussion."
The word accident left a bitter taste in his mouth, but if he'd told Octavia the whole truth, she'd have wanted to understand why it had happened, and that would force him to explain things he just couldn't.
"A concussion?" she asked, pulling back just enough to look at him without letting go. "What kind of accident? I wouldn't imagine doctors are as prone to head trauma as guard cadets," she said, tapping a finger against his head as she pulled away completely. She couldn't seem to stop smiling at him.
"He doesn't really remember," Bellamy said, "since when you get a concussion you forget stuff. And I don't know what you're talking about; I've only had one concussion in my life."
She hummed thoughtfully, giving him an appraising look, though her eyes were still bright and happy. "You were a mess for a few days," she recalled. "Is he getting better?"
"Getting there. He's better enough we argued earlier, because he thinks he's better than he is, and I know he's not." Bellamy grinned faintly at her. "He thinks since he's a doctor, he shouldn't have to listen to what Doctor Griffin tells him to do."
O seemed unable to not grin back at him. "First fight?" she said.
Bellamy shrugged. "Everyone fights. We got over it."
Her grin widened. "Did you kiss and make up?" she teased.
"Hey, you're too young to know about that," he teased back, messing up her hair. After being away a few days, though, it was sort of shocking how grown up she looked. She was sixteen. Their mom must have some plan for her. Octavia couldn't spend her entire life under the floor.
She stared at him for a moment, smoothing her bangs back down. Then she snorted. "What's that face?" she said. "I'm sixteen. I've read books where people kiss."
"Sorry," he said, forcing a laugh. "I was just..." He shook his head. "When did you grow up on me? You're my baby sister. You're not supposed to be sixteen."
She tilted her head at him, smiling faintly. "Too bad, big brother," she said. "I am."
Bellamy scowled at her for a moment, then kissed her forehead. "I brought something to show you," he said, guiding her over to sit on the bed. He wanted to have time to hide the picture if their Mom came in, and she wouldn't see the bed the moment she opened the door.
"What is it?" Octavia asked, sounding interested. She sat next to him and gave him an expectant look.
Bellamy couldn't keep from smiling as he pulled Clarke's portrait out of his jacket. "So the other doctor on GoSci station is Doctor Griffin, right? And her daughter's an artist. So even though you can't meet Jackson right now, I thought you might want to see what he looks like." He handed her the paper.
She was beaming at him as she took it, then she unfolded it and looked down. Her eyebrows shot up and she sucked in a small breath. The portrait captured Jackson in profile, looking relaxed and happy. "Wow," Octavia said, almost a little breathlessly, staring at it.
Bellamy laughed. "I know. And he's a doctor." He nudged her. "Out of my league, right?"
"Oh my God, yes," she said, laughing. She glanced over at him, as if to make sure he knew she was joking, then looked back down. "He has very kind eyes."
"He's a very kind man," Bellamy said softly. "I tried so hard not to fall for him, O. I know Mom's right about...about keeping you safe, and not letting people too close. But..." He drew a slow breath and lowered his voice. "I really like him. You would, too."
She smiled up at him warmly for a few long moments, and then her expression faltered and she looked away. "I wish I could meet him."
Bellamy put an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, maybe someday. Mom must have a plan of some kind, right?" He squeezed her gently. "I may tease about locking you in the floor until you're too old for boys, but...I want you to find someone who makes you as happy as I feel when I'm with J. We just have to figure out a way to make that happen."
Octavia huffed. She was still looking down at the portrait, but now she looked unhappy. She leaned against him. "Sometimes I wonder what the point of even having me was," she admitted. "I feel like I might go crazy before I get out."
"Maybe Mom had too much love for one kid," Bellamy said, but the response was automatic. The older he got, the more he questioned the decisions their mom had made, and the fewer answers he had. "I just know I can't imagine my life without you, O." He leaned his head on hers.
"If I'd never been born, you wouldn't know the difference," she muttered. She turned her head to press her cheek to his shoulder. "You seem so happy. And I'm so happy for that. But… sixteen years, Bell. I read about so much in books that I know I should be…" She sucked in a sharp breath and straightened, shaking her head. "Sorry. It's fine. I'm fine."
Bellamy closed his eyes. "Don't apologize for wanting more," he said softly. He wanted to promise he would talk to their mom, but he had a feeling their mom wouldn't be inclined to listen to anything he said. After a while, he said, "Okay...I have a horrible idea."
Octavia looked surprised by that, her eyes widening. But she looked over at him and held his gaze with interest. "Tell me," she demanded.
"Uh. So Jackson wants to try to 'win Mom over'," Bellamy said. "Because it bothers him that I walked out the other night. And obviously I couldn't tell him the truth about why, but..." He glanced over at Octavia, who was watching him. "Anyway, I know you couldn't really meet him. But...maybe we could talk Mom into letting me and J have dinner here. I know it wouldn't be the same, but..."
"I won't make a sound," she said emphatically, almost breathlessly. Her expression still looked unhappy, but also eager.
Bellamy gave her an unhappy smile. "It's a terrible idea, and you know Mom won't go for it," he said. But God, he hated how unhappy Octavia looked. And worse, he couldn't do anything about it. She was too old for piggyback rides and bedtime stories to make her feel better, and he hated that he didn't have the ability to fix her problems any more. "But I can at least try."
She nodded. "I'll help you convince her. If she can be convinced," she said, then leaned against his shoulder again. "God, she's been a nightmare since you left. I know you had to, and I'm happy for you that you were able escape for a while, but… mom's not any fun. And I can't talk to her like I can you."
Escape for a while, Bellamy thought, and felt a sudden pang of guilt. He hadn't even thought about actually coming back to stay. He'd taken for granted that Jackson might get used to having him around and ask him to stay there. Which was entirely unfair to Octavia. "I should have visited sooner," he said softly. "I just couldn't get away from training when I was sure Mom wouldn't be here."
"It's okay," she said. "I know. Hopefully you and mom can work it out, though. I mean, she does seem really sorry, and… what you said…"
Bellamy took a slow breath. "I know. It wasn't fair. I just..." He ducked his head. "Do you think I could have gotten a guard appointment without her help, O? I--I don't think Mom thinks that I could have." He swallowed against a sudden tightness in his throat. "I disappoint her."
"Sometimes I think mom sees even less than I do," Octavia said. "She's so… fucking paranoid."
"Octavia, language," Bellamy said, imitating Mom. But he couldn't quite suppress his laughter as he said it. "I know you see me better than she does," he whispered, and hugged his sister closer. He took a deep breath. "No one's ever seen me the way you do. And only Jackson has ever tried."
"I love you," she whispered. "I hope he does too."
Bellamy gave a choked laugh. "No way could he love me as much as you do," he said. "Or as much as I love you. You know, you made me the absolute luckiest guy on the Ark when you were born. No one else has ever been lucky enough to have a sister."
It was one of the stupid things he pulled out whenever she was feeling low, even if he knew she would roll her eyes at him, but it was true.
She snorted, and the sarcasm was evident in her voice when she spoke again. "Yeah, being chained by birth to the girl under the floor who could never share this life with you? Super lucky." She drew a shaky breath. "Maybe I love you more because I need you more. If I was a normal kid, I could afford to spread my affection out."
"What's normal?" Bellamy said, nudging her. "How would either of us know?" He'd grown up knowing his family was abnormal, but he couldn't imagine his life without Octavia.
Octavia huffed a laugh. "You would know better than me," she said, then eyed him. "Or at least you'd know how to pretend to be."
Bellamy shrugged. "I guess," he said. "But then, neither one of us knows what it's like to have a dad. Jackson lived with his mom and his dad, until he was twelve. Maybe there's no such thing as normal, even if nobody else has a sister."
"Maybe," she said. "What happened to his parents?"
"I don't know, exactly." Bellamy frowned. "He said his dad died when he was twelve, and his mom died a few years ago." He laughed faintly. "I'm honestly not even sure how old Jackson is, except a couple of years older than me, probably. Is it weird I don't know that?"
"Yeah, a little," O said. "If you love him, shouldn't you know everything?"
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "I want to know everything," he admitted. He paused, taking a long breath, then said, "You're sure you're okay with inviting him here?"
She looked up to hold his gaze. "Yes," she said emphatically. "If it's the only way I'll ever meet him, I want to meet him."
"Okay," Bellamy said. "I'll bring it up whenever Mom gets home, then. After Mom and I get things at least a little settled. Then you can jump in if you want to." He still wasn't sure their mom would go for this plan, but he'd promised Jackson he would try, and the idea seemed to appeal to Octavia.
"Okay," Octavia said, leaning against him again. "She'll be back soon," she said, finally offering Jackson's portrait back. "Tell me how it's been outside these walls the last few days."
Bellamy sighed. "Well, Jackson doesn't have any reason to worry about inspections. And... people come and visit him. Doctor Griffin was there when I got h--back this afternoon, and she didn't think it was weird I was staying there." Shit, he'd almost said when I got home, and that made him realize he'd said 'home' earlier when he was talking to Jackson.
But that wasn't right. Home was Octavia. Wasn't it? Or could home be two different people? Bellamy nibbled the inside of his lower lip and hoped O hadn't noticed his slip.
"That's so cool," Octavia said. She sighed, but it seemed relaxed. "Must be so nice not to be afraid all the time."
"I can't get used to feeling that relaxed," Bellamy admitted. "But it is nice."
Octavia smiled, then opened her mouth to say something, but that was when the door clicked open. Bellamy tensed and felt O do the same, but he folded the portrait of Jackson and put it back in his pocket.
The door clicked shut. "Sorry, I got held up when Isaiah--" Their mother stopped in her tracks when she saw Bellamy, a slightly pained expression crossing her face. "You came back," she breathed.
Bellamy took a steadying breath. "I'm not back to stay," he said, and felt O tense even more beside him. "Not yet," he added, to make her feel better. "But maybe we can talk about that."
His mother nodded, taking a step toward him, and then stopping. She dropped her gaze to the floor, the drew a shaky breath. "Have you been staying with your doctor friend?"
Bellamy knew he shouldn't be too confrontational, but he straightened a little. "My boyfriend, Mom. And yeah, I've been staying with Jackson. He's actually why I'm here now. He doesn't want to come between us."
She sighed, and when she looked back up at him, he wasn't sure if her gaze was disapproving or cautious. Maybe it was both. Whatever it was, it faded after a moment into sadness. She held out a hand. "Can you come here?"
Bellamy drew in a breath and then stood. "I'm sorry for what I said the other night. I was out of line," he said as he went to stand in front of her.
She looked up at him, lowering her outstretched hand. "I'm sorry I hit you," she said, her eyes going a little glassy." She drew a sharp, shaky breath, then stepped in and wrapped her arms around him. "It'll never happen again," she choked out, muffled against his shoulder.
"I know," he said. He lifted his arms to hug her back. "I forgive you." It didn't solve the disagreement about Jackson, but it was a start.
"Thank you," she said. She sniffed hard, then pulled back, brushing away wetness under her eyes. "Will you at least stay for dinner?"
"Sure," Bellamy said, surprised that she seemed so accepting of the fact he wasn't coming back to stay yet. He glanced over at Octavia. "I'd like that."
His mom shifted uncomfortably, and glanced over at Octavia. "Did you finish your studies for the day?"
"Yep," Octavia said, but her face told a different story.
Their mother hummed thoughtfully and looked up at Bellamy. "Do you mind helping her with it? I've had to bring extra work home the last few nights and I haven't caught up."
"Sure." Bell laughed at the look Octavia shot him and sat down to help her.
They got through her work and she told him about the book she'd been reading, and then their mom asked him to come with her to the mess to carry food back. Finally they were all three settled around the table again, and Bellamy knew his mom probably hoped it felt like old times again, but there was a new tension that hadn't been there before.
He glanced over at Octavia, deciding this was as good a time to bring up dinner with Jackson as any. "So, Mom..." he began, "Jackson feels like he maybe got off on the wrong foot with you somehow."
His mother froze, fork halfway to her mouth. After a moment, she sighed. "I don't want to talk about your friend, Bellamy."
"Boyfriend," Octavia corrected.
Their mother shot Octavia a sharp look. "You shouldn't be encouraging this," she snapped.
Bellamy clenched his jaw for a moment, trying to force back his rising irritation. "If I just broke things off with him the way you want me to, that would be more dangerous than staying with him. He would start asking questions he doesn't know to ask right now. So if you want to protect Octavia, you ought to try to go along with this."
She arched a brow at him. "Let him ask questions. As long as you don't answer them, we're fine."
"Yeah, but here's the part you don't get. I'm not going to break up with him." Bellamy straightened his shoulders. "He's part of my life now. And he's going to stay part of my life. And you might as well accept that sooner rather than later, just like Octavia has."
She straightened too. "I understand. I really do. You're a young man. You have needs."
Octavia actually choked in surprise at those last words, but their mother just darted an annoyed look at her, then looked back at Bellamy. "But this is too far," she finished.
God, had she really just said that? Bellamy stared at his mother, his mouth open. "This isn't about me having sex. This is about me having a life. Having someone who wants to take care of me as much as I take care of him. Having someone to spend time with that I'm not related to." He darted a look of apology at Octavia. "And I'm sorry if you've never had that, Mom. But if you want to talk about needs, this is what I need."
She looked profoundly unhappy, and slightly angry. She sucked in a breath and dropped her head into her hands, her elbows resting on the table. "If you could just…" She shifted uncomfortably, squeezing her temples. "I don't know what you want from me, Bellamy. If you want my blessing, that's not coming."
"I didn't expect your blessing, but maybe you could manage acceptance." Bellamy sighed. "He wants to have dinner with us. Obviously you're not open to that, but I promised him I'd ask you. So now I've asked you."
He started eating again, not looking away from his plate.
"Mom," Octavia said softly. "I'd like to have him over. I don't mind. I can't really meet him, I know, but I'd like to know him a little. I'll be quiet."
Their mother made an unhappy noise, but from the edge of his vision, Bellamy saw her shift and start to eat again. "So you want me to have company over and play nice, while you hide under the floor," she said, her tone disbelieving.
Bellamy glanced sideways at Octavia. "I told him we fought because you thought a relationship would distract me from my responsibilities. He assumed I meant my responsibilities training for the guard, like he was supposed to, and now he wants to assure you he has no intention of interfering with my career." He sipped his drink. "And maybe it would be good for Octavia to know a little bit about him. What if something happened to both of us? She wouldn't have anyone else she knew about who might help her."
His mother narrowed her eyes at him a little. "And how exactly is she even supposed to reach out to him if he doesn't know she exists?"
"I'm pretty sure she could make him believe she's my sister in the case of an absolute emergency," Bellamy said. "And no, he doesn't know she exists. I wouldn't tell him even if you said I could, because I don't want to put him at risk for getting floated. Give me a little credit." A thought occurred to him, and he glanced over at Octavia again. "And listen," he said slowly. "If the absolute worst happens, and we get found out somehow? Jackson has access to the Skybox. He's one of the doctors for all those kids in there. And this week, he found out someone's been mistreating some of those kids, and he reported it."
He cleared his throat and looked at Octavia. "I think that's how he ended up with the concussion," he admitted to her.
Octavia had been visibly tense since Bellamy had started talking about what might happen to her if anything happened to him and their mother. But when he finished speaking, her eyes widened a little. "He got himself hurt to protect those kids?" she breathed.
Bellamy pressed his lips together and nodded faintly. "He's a good man."
Octavia looked at their mother, her expression a little pleading. "Mom, what if something does happen to you two?"
Their mother's expression was calculating now, but she shook her head, her gaze going softer on O. "Nothing's going to happen to us."
"Mom, please," Octavia said. Bell wondered for a moment if Octavia was actually worried now about losing them both, or if she had figured out that Bell was trying to make Jackson look useful to their mother and was playing her part. Maybe it was both.
Their mother held her gaze for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine," she said, sounding unhappy, but resigned. "When?"
"Maybe a couple of days from now?" Bellamy said, giving his mom a tentative smile. "We should probably make sure Doctor Griffin thinks it's okay for him to walk this far, but it ought to be before he goes back to work, because his hours are kind of irregular."
He couldn't believe she'd actually given in, but he knew it would make Jackson happy, and hopefully it would make Octavia happy too.
Their mother didn't return Bell's smile, but Octavia was smiling faintly at her plate now as she started to eat again. After a few moments, Bellamy felt her knee smack his under the table.
He nudged her back, smiling.
After a moment, Octavia started telling him about something she'd read, and the change in topic gave their mom time to relax. By the time they'd finished eating and Bellamy helped clean up, he felt it was safe to give her a hug before kissing Octavia on the forehead.
"I'll see you in a couple days," he promised, and left.
Chapter Six
