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Title: Lips That Have Smiled, Eyes That Have Shed Tears - Chapter 9/12
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, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Jackson spent the day of Aurora Blake's execution in bed with Bellamy, for the most part. It wasn't easy to go back to bed for a full day so soon after he'd just been released from his medical leave, but Bell needed him, and at least Jackson was in the position to be caregiver this time, not patient.
Jackson got them meals, and read to Bell, and let Bell cry on his shoulder, but Bell kept exhausting himself and falling asleep for long periods of time.
Jackson hated to leave Bellamy to go back to work the next day, but Abby had come by to tell him he was assigned to the Skybox. By the time the next morning rolled around, Jackson was ready to get out of bed, though his nerves were jumping a little that he was about to meet Bellamy's sister.
He got dressed and ready before leaning down and kissing Bellamy's cheek. "Bell," he whispered, nudging him gently. "Bellamy."
Bell blinked his eyes open. He looked sleepy and miserable, his eyes puffy.
Jackson stroked his fingers through Bellamy's hair, then smiled faintly, cupping Bellamy's cheek in his hand. He brushed his lips against Bell's and pulled back. "Is there anything you want me to tell Octavia for you?" he said, "When I meet her today?"
"Oh. Um. Tell her I love her, and as soon as I can visit her, I will." Bellamy pressed his fingers into his eyes. "Can't think. Uh. Tell her I'm sorry." He looked up at Jackson unhappily.
Jackson swallowed that he didn't need to be sorry and kissed Bellamy again. "I'll tell her," he said. "Promise you'll take care of yourself today."
"I don't even... what should I do?" Bell asked, his fingers slipping through Jackson's hair.
"Rest," Jackson said. "Cry, read, play chess, whatever you feel up to. Just… at least force yourself to eat too."
"I'll try," Bell said. He made a face like he was trying to smile at Jackson, but it looked wrong, and obviously it felt wrong, too, because he let it slide away after a moment. "Thank you for being with me yesterday." He sighed and pulled Jackson in for another kiss. "Octavia already likes you. She'll be glad to see you."
"I hope so," Jackson said, smiling faintly. Octavia might be happy to see Jackson. Or she could be just as much of a mess as Bellamy was right now. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, and kissed Bell one last time before leaving.
He met with the guard that would be accompanying him for the day, who was not Allard, thankfully, and they made their way to the Skybox. This guard seemed more interested in light conversation, so Jackson decided he must not be one of the guards that had anything against him or Bellamy, and he was relaxed by the time he got to his first patient.
He went through the sick kids first, with almost no incidents until the last one. Dax seemed like an angry kid, and Jackson knew he was in for murder, but Abby had ordered antibiotics last time she saw him, and she hadn't noted having had any problems treating him.
Apparently, Dax had been biding his time, because as soon as Jackson produced a needle, Dax jumped him, grabbing it and stabbing it into Jackson's thigh, then yanking it out and going for the guard.
The guard had him subdued with his shock baton in what felt like the blink of an eye. "You okay, doctor?" he said, kicking the needle across the floor to Jackson without looking away from Dax.
Jackson picked it up and stood, wincing. "Yeah. That was just antibiotics. I'll be fine," he panted, and left the room. He scribbled notes in his file quickly to order another dose of antibiotics for Dax, with special instructions that he needed to be restrained next time. Next to him, the guard was scribbling his own notes, and by the time they both finished, Jackson felt like he could breathe normally again.
He moved on to his next set of patients, ignoring the painful twinge in his leg.
By the time he got to Octavia's cell, he had calmed down for the most part. Of course, knowing he was about to meet her sped his heart rate back up again. He knocked on the door and called, "Medical!", then let himself in.
Octavia was lying on her bunk, staring at the ceiling. She turned her head when he came in, then sat up. "You're Jackson," she said. Her gaze was dull, her eyes red-rimmed, but she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and straightened.
Jackson blinked at her for a moment. "I am," he said, giving her a sad smile. After a moment of hesitation, he went and sat next to her, careful not to sit too close. He had no idea how she reacted to people she didn't know after being isolated so long. "How did you know that before I told you?"
She sniffled and looked down. "My brother showed me a picture of you. He--he said if anything ever happened to him and Mom, I should ask you for help. But I'm guessing you've already done all you can. Is--" She broke off and looked up at him. "What happened to him? All they told me is that they'd decided not to float him."
He held her gaze. "He's free. He's off the guard, and I'm not sure what happens next for him, but he's staying with me. And I'll make sure he's okay." He cleared his throat. "He told me to tell you that he loves you, and that he'll visit you as soon as he can, and that he's sorry."
"Why is he sorry?" she asked, her voice flat. "I'm the one who was born without permission. I'm the reason he lost everything." She slumped back against the wall, her eyes filling with tears.
"Hey," Jackson said softly, turning to better face her. He reached out and touched her shoulder automatically, then thought better of it and withdrew his hand. "I know he shouldn't be sorry, and I'm going to work on getting him to believe that too, but he wanted me to tell you, so I did." He leaned down to sift through his bag, then produced a tissue for her. He held it out. "And none of this is your fault either."
She took the tissue, but she just stared at it for a few moments before wiping her eyes with it. "He and Mom would have been better off without me. You make him happier than I ever did." She hunched her shoulders. "I shouldn't have gone to the dance. Bell only offered because he knew how unhappy I was. Ah--" She let out a ragged breath that was almost a sob, then pulled her knees up to her chest. "They didn't--They didn't even let me say goodbye to Mom. Did...Is..." She looked at him. "Did they already..."
Jackson nodded. "Yesterday morning," he told her. "Bell was there. She seemed… calm. Like she'd accepted it a long time ago. She said it wasn't either of your faults."
Octavia's face crumbled for a moment, but even though her eyes filled with tears again, she didn't actually cry. She squeezed her eyes shut and put her face in her hands, and whispered, "I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not--" Then she choked on the words and began to cry.
Oh, God. Jackson felt his eyes sting, and he touched her shoulder again, this time not pulling away. "Can I--" he managed, then swallowed hard. "Am I allowed to hug you, Octavia?"
She answered by throwing herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest.
Jackson wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, resting his chin on the top of her head. "You don't need to be afraid," he said. "Bell would do anything for you, and I will too." He'd just met Octavia, sure, but he already felt connected to her through Bellamy. If Bellamy would bear so much to protect his sister for so long, she must be worth it.
He stroked his hand over her hair and glanced over at the guard just inside the door. He looked utterly confused, but Jackson just gave him an apologetic look and went back to holding Octavia.
"Will you tell him I love him?" she asked, her voice muffled. "Tell him I'll be brave."
"Of course I will. I'll tell him anything you want," he said.
She sniffled and pulled back a little, wiping her face with the crumpled tissue he'd given her. "Tell him I order him to be happy," she said, sounding miserable. She scrubbed her hand over her eyes. "We used to play a game," she explained. "Because he named me after the emperor's sister. He was my bodyguard and I gave him quests and ordered him to do things." She sighed.
For some reason, that made Jackson smile and get teary, and he was only slightly aware of being grateful he had his back to the guard. Bellamy named her? Bellamy played a game with her where he was her bodyguard and took orders from her? God Bellamy loved her. "I'll tell him," he said, not bothering to hide the emotion in his voice. "I promise."
Octavia hugged him again. "Thank you," she whispered. "And--and you help him be happy. He really likes you." She sniffled. "I like you. I liked you before I met you because you made him happy." Her voice was wobbly, but he didn't think she was actually crying.
"Thank you," he said, squeezing her. "I like you too. Because you make him happy. Because he needs you." He paused for a moment, wondering if he might be able to make her smile. He wanted to make her smile just because he did, but he also didn't want to start examining her while she was miserable. So he sucked in a breath and added, "And clearly you and Bellamy were both hit with the Pretty Stick one too many times."
She snorted and pulled back to give him a look, but when he just looked back at her, his expression sincere, she huffed and, with a hint of reluctance, let one corner of her mouth curve up. "That's ridiculous," she told him.
"Not at all," he said, allowing himself to smile at her faintly. Then he shifted to kneel in front of her, sifting through his bag again. "Girls were never my thing, but I can appreciate beauty in all its forms." He pulled out a blood pressure cuff. "Do you… know anything about physical examinations? I can talk you through it all, if you need it."
"I've never had a doctor before," Octavia told him. "Tell me everything. I'm curious. There's so much I don't know."
"I know. I didn't know if Bell and your mom taught you about anything medical, though," he said, a little sad for her, but then explained the blood pressure cuff before wrapping it around her arm and taking her blood pressure, which was very normal.
He pulled it off, and started to take her pulse, which she tried to chatter through. He smiled and pressed his finger to his mouth to silence her, then looked at his watch and counted until he had the number he was looking for. He explained it after.
He listened to her heart and lungs, and everything seemed normal, then he drew back and held her gaze. "They want a full blood panel on you," he said. "I'll have to stick you with a needle, and I know that scares a lot of people. But it just stings for a moment, I promise."
Octavia shrugged. "I've poked myself with needles before," she said. "Mom taught me to sew so I could help her with her work."
Jackson nodded, but settled his hands on her shoulders. "Different kind of needle. This one is hollow so I can collect your blood through it."
"Why collect my blood?" she asked, offering him her hand.
"It'll tell us a lot about your health," he said. "Right now, your file is blank, which is unheard of for a girl your age. I don't expect to find anything wrong, but your blood will tell us everything. Well, at least it will tell us if we need to look at anything else."
He took her offered hand. "It could be worse. I could be asking for your poop."
She gave him a startled laugh. "Really? Gross. Ugh." She watched him prepare to take the blood sample, tying off her arm and feeling for a vein, then lifted her gaze to his face. "Did you meet Bellamy because you did all this for him?" Her gaze was sharp on his face. Jackson suspected she wanted to be distracted from what he was doing.
He swabbed her inner elbow and positioned the needle. "This will hurt. Just a tiny bit. Slight pinch. Stay still," he said, his fingers pulsing against the vein in her arm one more time. "I met Bellamy in medical, yeah," he said. "He was hurt from training," he said. "Do you want warning before I do this?" he asked, then pushed the needle in before she could respond because she clearly didn't.
She hissed, but didn't twitch. After a moment she said, "He always said it was training accidents, but I wasn't sure I always believed him. He used that same tone of voice when he was lying to Mom."
Jackson calmly collected a few vials of blood. "I'm actually not allowed to disclose any details about why I was treating him." It was true. It had the added benefit of him not having to expose Bell's abuse to her if he didn't want it exposed, though. "Not quite done," he said as he released the strap around her upper arm. "You have good veins." He darted a small smile at her, then looked back at the last vial he was filling.
"I don't know a lot about how to talk to other people, but I'm guessing that's a doctor compliment and not a normal person compliment?" Her tone was amused, which Jackson thought was an accomplishment.
He smiled at her again. "Are you implying doctors aren't normal people?" he teased gently. He sealed the last vial, removed the needle and bandaged her inner elbow.
"Well, so far you and the other doctor, the woman, have been the nicest people to me. So maybe you aren't normal." She was studying his face. "And Bellamy fell for you, even though he never falls for anyone." She tipped her head to one side, her expression considering. "Definitely not normal people."
Jackson sat back on his heels, still crouched in front of her. "Maybe you're right," he said. "But there are a lot of nice people around, so don't assume everyone will be cruel just because they put you in here. You know what they say about assuming things?"
"Bell says it makes an ass out of you and me," she said, and that earned Jackson her first genuine smile.
Jackson nodded and smiled back at her, reaching out to clasp her hands between his. "I'm really glad I got to meet you."
Octavia kept smiling at him for a few moments, then it slowly faded. "I just wish we could have met without all the bad stuff happening," she said softly. "You'll take care of Bellamy for me?"
"Of course," he said, giving her hands a squeeze and then letting go to repack his medical kit. When he stood to leave, his leg twinged and threatened to give out, but didn't. "If you have any problems, ask for me. I can probably find an excuse to come see you," he told her, then tugged her gently to her feet to give her a brief hug before leaving.
The guard was full of questions about why Octavia had gotten such special treatment, but Jackson brushed them off for the most part. By the time he reported back to medical on the Skybox kids, it was near dinner time.
He stopped by the mess and got food for himself and Bellamy (just in case), then went back to his rooms. When he came inside, Bellamy was asleep in bed, clutching the teddy bear Jackson had found under the floor in Bellamy's quarters. He was surprised Bellamy didn't rouse when the door opened, but then Jackson saw a half-empty bottle on the bedside table.
Jackson sighed, dropping their food off at the table. He walked to the bed and sniffed the bottle to confirm it was, in fact, moonshine, then flopped down on the edge of the bed hard enough to jolt Bellamy awake.
"Octavia says she loves you, that she'll be strong, and that she orders you to be happy."
Bellamy sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. "Orders me, huh?" he mumbled, his voice rough from sleep. He pulled his knees up and draped his arms over his knees. "How is she really?"
"She's obviously not very happy, but no one should expect her to be," Jackson said, watching Bell. "But as far as I know right now, until her lab results come back, she's perfectly healthy, and I managed to get her to smile at least a little."
Bellamy lifted his head and gave Jackson a small smile. "Yeah? She smiled at you?" He didn't seem to realize he was still holding the teddy bear.
Jackson returned Bellamy's smile with one of his own, letting it look just slightly smug. "I even stole a couple of hugs," he said.
Bellamy opened his mouth, then checked himself. After a moment, he murmured, "You're amazing." He moved to wrap his arms around Jackson, pressing his head against Jackson's shoulder. "I'm so glad she could talk to you today. Thank you. Thank you so much."
Jackson held Bellamy tightly, turning his head to kiss Bellamy's hair. "It was my pleasure," he murmured. He drew a deep breath and let it out. "When she gets out, we're really going to have to keep an eye on the boys, aren't we?"
Bellamy huffed a noise that might have been amused. "I used to tease her I was going to keep her hidden until she was too old for boys. She never thought that was very funny." Jackson felt him take a couple of deep breaths. "I don't know what either of us would do without you."
"You'd figure something out," Jackson said, pulling back enough to look at Bell. "I'm glad you don't have to, though." He leaned in for a kiss that tasted like alcohol, then pulled away with a sigh. "Have you had dinner?"
"I ate lunch late." Bellamy rubbed his hand through his hair frowning. "Gillmer and Barton were in the mess when I went in. That was..." He shrugged. "Awkward. Crappy. What time is it?"
"A little after six." Jackson looked over at the bottle. "I'd ask you to have dinner with me, but… How drunk are you, on a scale of one to 'I might throw up if I try to eat'?"
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "Um...five? Ish? I definitely had more than I usually do, but I guess I've been asleep about three hours or so. I was reading..." He looked around and then realized the teddy bear had fallen in his lap. "Huh. I stopped by to get some of O's stuff after lunch." He picked up the bear and looked sadly at it.
"I see that," Jackson said, running a hand over his thigh where a lump had been forming for the last couple hours. He should probably ice it, but he didn't really want to explain to Bellamy what had happened. Then again, Bellamy might see it when they went to bed tonight.
Jackson sighed and stood, walking over to the table to eat. "I brought you a tray, if you're hungry," he said, starting to poke around his plate with his fork. "How were Gillmer and Barton crappy?"
"They weren't crappy, so much." Bell followed him over to the table and settled down across from Jackson. "It was just...crappy because I'm not one of them anymore. They were awkward about it, you know?"
Jackson hummed a thoughtful noise as he chewed, tilting his head at Bellamy. "They'll come around," he said. "And if they don't, they didn't deserve your friendship to begin with."
"Nah, they're good guys, really," Bellamy said. "I think they just aren't sure what to...y'know, how to be around me." He looked at the food Jackson had brought him and tentatively took a couple of bites.
Jackson took another bite of his food. He wanted to say he wasn't sure how to to be around Bellamy after first learning about what had happened, but that as soon as he was face to face with Bell, he knew what he had to do. Of course, that wasn't fair, though. Platonic relationships were different from relationships where love was involved. "They'll come around then," he said, hoping it would be true.
Bellamy nodded slowly. "I hope so. They'd sometimes step in when Grus' boys got out of hand. And I liked playing basketball with them." He swallowed another bite of his food and then huffed an unhappy laugh. "Maybe you actually have it easier, since all you have to do is hug me and let me cry on you." When he looked up at Jackson, his gaze was warm, despite the grief that hadn't really left his face for three days.
Jackson tilted his head, considering. "Yeah," he said quietly. "But I don't think so." He took another bite and didn't drop Bell's gaze when Bell gave him a curious look. He swallowed and said, "I think distance is easier actually."
Bell looked at him for several heartbeats, but finally said, "How?" The question sounded reluctant.
Jackson shrugged, half-wishing he hadn't started this conversation. "You risked everything," he said, "to take Octavia to a party to make her feel less sad." Jackson sniffed. "I know it's not the same with me, but I know that when someone you care about hurts deeply, you feel it in your own body." He reached across the table to curl his fingers around Bell's. "I feel it."
Bellamy opened his mouth, then closed it and just squeezed Jackson's hand. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and when Jackson looked up, he saw Bellamy's eyes were a little wet. "I wish I knew how to not let you feel it, but I--I'm grateful that you do. It's..." Bell looked down at their hands. "It's not easier because you care, exactly, but...I can bear it because you do. I wish I could make you feel how grateful I am that you didn't disappear when this happened."
"Why would I disappear?" Jackson said. His fingers gripped Bell's tighter. "None of it was your fault."
Bell shrugged. "Mom told me once that my father disappeared when she got pregnant because they weren't married and he apparently didn't want to be. And I know you're not that kind of person, but...there are plenty of people who would have just vanished once they realized something was hard." He shrugged again and started eating with his free hand.
Jackson gave Bellamy a painful smile. God, he couldn't imagine what it felt like to be abandoned by his own father. "I'm not scared of hard, Bellamy," he said. "I embrace hard."
That made Bellamy snort. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. I'm not sure you would have put up with me being surly at you for eight months and still decided you wanted in on this, otherwise." He looked down at his plate and shoved another forkful of food in his mouth.
Jackson sighed, squeezing Bell's hand. "Would you mind getting me some ice?" he said, then immediately held a hand up. "I'm fine. I don't want to talk. Just… ice would be nice."
Bellamy frowned at him, but he got up without speaking and went to get the ice. When he came back, he had a bottle of water with him along with the ice. "Today I tried to think about what to do with myself. With my life." He held out the ice, not asking any questions, but Jackson couldn't help feel like the change in topics was some sort of rebuke. "I still don't know what I want."
Jackson took the ice and rested it on his thigh over the burning lump. "Okay," he said. "What do you like other than history and war?" He wondered if Bell could enter the teaching program at his age. Octavia was clearly smart, and Jackson couldn't imagine Bellamy didn't have something to do with that.
Now that he thought about it, was Bell too old, even at twenty-one, to enter any of the professions that required more training? God, they were going to assign Bell some rudimentary job soon if he didn't insist on more, weren't they?
Fuck. Jackson tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach and took another bite.
"It's not that I like war so much as military history and tactics," Bellamy said. "Which isn't exactly something people care much about on the Ark." He rubbed his forehead. "Thing is...I guess if I could think of something I wanted, I might like doing something with history, but teaching is the only thing I can think of, and..." He shook his head and took a long drink of water.
"You should talk to someone about teaching then," Jackson said. "Sooner rather than later." Maybe they could make an exception for Bellamy and let him into the program late.
Bell sighed. "I have a feeling they'll tell me I should have decided that about five years ago," he said, looking up to meet Jackson's gaze. "And even if they were willing to count my teaching Octavia towards experience, you really think they'd want someone who got kicked out of the guard for not having enough integrity?" His tone turned bitter toward the end, and he looked back down at his plate.
"That's bullshit, and you know it," Jackson said, frowning. "So you're not even going to try? You know they'll just assign you the first job that comes along that anyone could do if you don't advocate for yourself."
"I know it's bullshit, but do you really think they'll listen to my side of things?" Bell rubbed his face. "Do you think..." Then he sighed. "Never mind. I don't know."
"Never mind what?" Jackson insisted, starting to feel a little irritated at the idea that Bellamy might just resign himself to whatever the Ark threw at him. "As far as I know, there has never been a situation quite like yours on the Ark, so there is no precedent for how they'll treat you. You can't just assume the worst."
Bellamy gave him a crooked smile. "The Ark's never really done anything good for me, except letting me meet you." He shook his head. "I'm not good at wanting things, J. You were the first time I ever insisted on getting what I wanted."
Jackson pressed his lips together. Those words should make him feel good, but right now he needed Bellamy not to give up. "I worked out pretty well," he said. "Maybe you should try insisting on more."
"God, I--" Bellamy's smile strengthened a little. "Yeah. You worked out pretty well." He nodded. "So...who do you think I should talk to? Do you think... Doctor Griffin's done so much for me already, I'd hate to take advantage, but..."
Jackson felt tension in his shoulders that he hadn't realized he was holding relax. "I'm not sure who you should talk to. It's probably out of Abby's hands, but she'll probably know who to direct you to. I'll ask her tomorrow." He gave Bellamy a faint smile and continued eating.
Bell nodded. "Thanks for pushing me. If you hadn't made me promise to eat lunch, I probably would have stayed in bed all day. It's hard to make myself care about anything."
Jackson sighed. "I know," he said gently. He knew, no matter how hard he pushed Bellamy, depression wasn't something Bellamy could just snap out of. But that didn't mean Jackson was going to stop pushing. "You care about your sister. You care about me. We'll care about you until you can do that for yourself again."
***
Bellamy stared down at the clothes in his arms and thought, irrationally, how fucking pissed off he was at his boyfriend.
Which was completely unfair, but Jackson had pushed him so hard to want something for himself, pushed him to talk to the career director about teaching, and somehow, Jackson had pushed Bellamy right into getting his hopes up that maybe things would work out.
But the Ark never had done anything good for Bellamy, and obviously it still wasn't in a giving mood.
He looked over his shoulder at the careers director's office door, muttered, "Fuck you," in a petty and impotent show of defiance, and headed for Farm Station. Hannah Green was probably tired of seeing his face, considering he'd never used to drink this much, but Bell didn't care. If the Ark was going to rob him of almost anything he'd ever cared about, he intended to drink enough tonight that he wouldn't care about anything.
By the time he got back home, his resentment had worked its way up into real anger. It was probably a good thing he hadn't run into Grus or any of his boys on his way back to Jackson's quarters, because he had a feeling he'd have shown them what kind of damage he could do if he was willing to fight back.
He dumped his new 'uniform' on the table, pushed off his shoes, and retreated to the bed with Octavia's teddy bear and the bottle of moonshine.
He was, unfortunately, still awake a couple of hours later when Jackson got home, but for the first time in a week, he almost couldn't feel any of the pain that had settled in. Almost.
Jackson peeled out of his coat immediately, letting out a heavy sigh. "Flu is going around," he muttered. "I'm probably covered in it. Gonna shower, and then you can tell me how it went today." He headed for the bathroom, tugging his shirt off over his head.
"Great," Bell mumbled. "I'll be here." He waited until Jackson was in the shower to pour himself one more glass. He wondered how Jackson would feel about having a fucking janitor for a boyfriend.
His glass was empty and he was considering pouring another by the time Jackson reemerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist. He started dressing, but Bellamy didn't miss the way he eyed the bottle and empty glass on the bedside table. "Didn't go well, did it?" he said cautiously.
Bellamy made a disgusted noise. "So much for getting my Goddamn hopes up."
Jackson frowned deeply, tugging some jeans on, then sat down next to Bellamy without bothering to get a shirt. "Tell me what happened."
"Don't need any new teachers, wouldn't be inclined to train me even if they did. I should consider myself lucky they didn't float me along with my mother, since I was a fucking accessory to her crimes. I should also consider myself lucky they need janitors, since that means I still get to eat." Bellamy's stomach twisted at the thought, just like it had when the careers director said those words. A janitor. He got kicked out of the guard, so he asked to be a teacher, and instead they slapped him in the face with janitor.
Jackson sucked in a breath and let it out, his expression going more sympathetic. He reached over and brushed his fingers against Bellamy's hair. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well." Bellamy couldn't meet his gaze. He looked over at the wall, wishing he'd poured another glass, because his eyes were stinging suddenly. The pain was still there. "I should have known better than to hope for anything good, that's all."
Jackson's hand slid out of his hair and onto Bell's shoulder. "Being a janitor isn't automatically bad," he said.
"Yeah, great, I get to spend the rest of my life picking up other people's trash," Bell muttered. "What's the fucking point?"
Jackson sighed and dropped his hand. "Picking up other people's trash is more admirable than staying in bed and getting trashed."
"Easy for you to say, doctor," Bellamy said, rolling over to face the wall. He felt a pang of guilt as he said it, but he shoved it down.
He felt Jackson shift. "Are we doing this now?" he said, his voice somewhere between defensive and wounded. He shifted again, and then there was a sloshing that sounded suspiciously like Jackson had taken a drink from the bottle. When Jackson hissed, Bell's suspicion was confirmed.
The bed shifted again, and Jackson was walking across the room toward the bathroom.
Fuck. He should have made sure to finish the bottle before Jackson got home. Bellamy glared at the wall, unwilling to turn over.
He heard Jackson take another drink, and then the splashing of the remainder of the bottle going down the sink. "I should have done this days ago," Jackson muttered.
"Because I don't know where to get more," Bellamy called over his shoulder. Some part of him hated the bitter sarcasm in his voice. Jackson didn't deserve this. But Bellamy didn't have the power to take it out on the people who did.
"Well," Jackson said. "Get drunk in your own rooms from now on then."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Bellamy exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. Before he knew what he was going to say, he blurted, "Yeah, that's an easy way to get rid of your janitor boyfriend."
Jackson huffed an angry laugh, then Bellamy heard a chair slide out from the table. "Until he's sober."
"So what?" Bellamy demanded, sitting up and turning to face him. "I'm not supposed to be angry about this? I'm just supposed to say, 'Thanks for turning me into a nobody?' I'm supposed to what--be okay with getting fucked over by the Council and the Chancellor and your precious Doctor Griffin?"
Jackson was seated at the table, looking unhappy, but a flash of anger crossed his features then. "Abby is part of the reason you're not floating in space right now, and she's the closest thing I have to family. You can either show some fucking respect, or you can stumble back to Factory Station right now," he spat.
Bellamy scowled down at his knees, feeling a prickle of shame. He did appreciate what Abby Griffin had done for him. "You're right," he mumbled, his stomach churning. "She actually tried to help." Even if it hadn't been enough to get him a job that allowed him any dignity, it had saved his life.
Jackson's shoulders relaxed. "I don't expect you not to be angry. But the only way you'll ever be a nobody is if you choose to keep drinking your life away."
Bellamy's eyes stung at that, and he squeezed them shut, turning his head so Jackson wouldn't see. "I just wanted to see if I could forget," he whispered. "Just--just for a while." He sucked in a breath. "It hurts so much."
Jackson sighed. "Is it working, though? Because it doesn't look like it."
Bellamy couldn't argue with that. He shook his head, feeling the tears spill over. Damn it. He was so damn tired of feeling like this.
He heard Jackson get up, and then Jackson was sitting next to him, sort of straddling Bellamy sideways, one leg behind Bell's back. "Then stop," he said, tugging Bellamy against his bare chest.
"I'm sorry," Bellamy whispered, wrapping an arm around Jackson's neck and pressing his face against Jackson's shoulder.
Jackson's fingers stroked Bellamy's hair. "Don't apologize," he said.
I love you, Bellamy thought, but he bit back the words, just as he had every time they tried to escape over the past week. He didn't know when a good time to say them would be, but there had to be a better time than this, when he was drunk and miserable. "They've stripped away everything that defines me," he mumbled. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
Jackson turned his head to kiss Bellamy's hair. "You're not defined by your family or your job," Jackson murmured. He pressed a hand to Bellamy's chest. "You're still in there."
Bellamy slumped against him. "Maybe. I just don't know how to find me."
"Well, you won't drunk," Jackson said, sighing. "I've seen people spiral out of control trying to numb their own pain. I've seen how fast that can happen. How could I even look Octavia in the eyes if I let that happen to you?"
Bellamy sighed. "She made you promise to take care of me, huh?"
"She didn't make me promise, necessarily, but I told her I would." Jackson stroked his fingers over Bellamy's shoulder. "Don't make me a liar."
"God, J, you're too good to me." Bellamy straightened suddenly as his stomach lurched. "And I'm going to puke."
He bolted for the bathroom, where he lost half the moonshine he'd drunk, his eyes streaming with reflexive tears. Shit. Now he felt like an idiot.
He didn't hear Jackson follow him, but a moment later, Jackson was crouching beside him. His hand stroked over Bellamy's back, and Bellamy felt another wave of sickness hit him. Jackson's hand stilled on his back as Bellamy vomited again, but didn't pull away.
"It's okay," he said, his tone soothing. "Get it all out."
"M'so stupid," Bellamy mumbled, resting his arm across the toilet seat so he could press his forehead against it. He panted, trying to catch his breath. "Shit."
"You're not stupid," Jackson said, his hand starting to stroke again as he reached up to flush the toilet. Bellamy was grateful for it a moment later when the smell of vomit cleared. "You're hurting."
Bellamy shrugged. "You shouldn't be helping me when I did this." His nose was running now, on top of the awful churning in his stomach.
Jackson pulled a wad of toilet paper from the roll and started dabbing at Bell's face. "I brought water. Let me know when you're ready for it." He tucked the toilet paper under Bell's nose. "Blow."
Bell obeyed. "This is humiliating," he muttered. "I need to rinse my mouth at least."
Bell couldn't help but make a mildly disgusted face at the way Jackson examined his snot for a moment before tossing the toilet paper in the trash and holding up the bottle of water.
Bellamy rinsed and spit a couple of times, then pressed the cold bottle against his forehead. He was shivering and sweating at the same time, but the coolness felt good. He sighed. "So is this how drinking works? You make yourself so fucking miserable physically that you forget to care about all the other shit in your life?"
"Seems to be," Jackson said, tilting his head at Bell. "I'm not one hundred percent sure, since I can't remember the last time touched alcohol before tonight." He stroked his fingers against Bellamy's temple.
Bellamy couldn't really understand why Jackson was being so nice about this. He obviously didn't approve of Bell's choices, but he was still in here helping him. Since Jackson had ignored Bell's earlier comment about it, though, Bell figured he didn't want to explain. Bellamy sipped the water, and this time he swallowed, hoping he could keep it down.
Jackson sighed and sat back against the wall. "I lost a patient last week," he said. "Indirectly. She… she'd had a loss and started drinking. Her son brought her in a few times with alcohol poisoning." He ran a hand over his thigh, looking unhappy. "They told me last week he'd found her dead in a pool of her own vomit."
Bellamy looked at Jackson, then reached out and covered Jackson's hand with his own. "I'm sorry," he said, and meant it both for the patient and for his own actions.
"Don't be." Jackson turned his hand to curl his fingers around Bell's. "Just know that if you start going down that path, I'll walk away," he said, looking up to fix Bellamy with a serious gaze.
Bellamy suddenly felt queasy again, but he wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or from that statement. He had no doubt Jackson meant it. And the idea of losing Jackson on top of everything else he'd lost...
Bellamy leaned over the toilet and threw up again.
Jackson sighed. "And here I was thinking you were done," he said softly. Bellamy felt Jackson's hand against his back again.
"Unnh," Bell managed. He heaved one more time, then sat up and flushed the toilet. Another rinse and spit, and he wiped his face and blew his nose. "Maybe now," he said. He took another sip of water and leaned his head back. "The bathroom isn't spinning quite as much."
"Good," Jackson said. "I guess I'm lucky you even made it here. I have a feeling you'd be useless cleaning up even your own vomit."
Bellamy snorted. "Sickness was the one part of raising Octavia Mom didn't want me to help with. Starting with spit up. After a couple of times cleaning up my puke along with O's, Mom would order me to spend as much time in one of the public lounges when O was sick. Thank God she was a pretty healthy kid." He took a longer sip of water. He was shivering now, but he did feel better than he had.
"Well, she wasn't exactly exposed to much," Jackson said. "I'm hoping her immune system is strong, considering she'll have a roommate soon, and the non-violent Skybox kids do get socialization time."
"Hopefully she'll be like me. I don't get sick much," Bellamy said. "Tonight excepted." He sighed and drank some more water. "I think I could lie down now, if you help me up," he offered.
Jackson nodded and stood, holding an arm down to help Bellamy to his feet. Bellamy sagged against him as the went back to the bed. "You're shivering," Jackson pointed out, pulling back the covers before pressing Bellamy onto the bed and wrapping them over him.
"S'what puking does to me," Bellamy mumbled. His eyelids were getting heavy too, but he had things he needed to say, so he struggled to keep his eyes open. "Be sweating in a minute." He curled his fingers around Jackson's, hoping he would sit next to him.
"Then we'll take the covers off then," Jackson said, sitting on the bed and squeezing Bell's fingers.
Bellamy sighed, but he looked up at Jackson, wishing he could smile. "Don't give up on me," he said quietly. "I won't get any more moonshine."
"Good. For now, at least." Jackson smiled faintly down at him, then leaned over to kiss Bellamy's cheek. "Does it look like I'm giving up on you?" he murmured.
"No. You never have." Bellamy did manage a tiny smile then. "You made me--" He stopped himself just before he said 'love' and changed it to, "trust you, and you've never given me reason to stop." He took a couple of slow breaths. "I'm going to prove you can trust me too."
Chapter Ten
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, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Jackson spent the day of Aurora Blake's execution in bed with Bellamy, for the most part. It wasn't easy to go back to bed for a full day so soon after he'd just been released from his medical leave, but Bell needed him, and at least Jackson was in the position to be caregiver this time, not patient.
Jackson got them meals, and read to Bell, and let Bell cry on his shoulder, but Bell kept exhausting himself and falling asleep for long periods of time.
Jackson hated to leave Bellamy to go back to work the next day, but Abby had come by to tell him he was assigned to the Skybox. By the time the next morning rolled around, Jackson was ready to get out of bed, though his nerves were jumping a little that he was about to meet Bellamy's sister.
He got dressed and ready before leaning down and kissing Bellamy's cheek. "Bell," he whispered, nudging him gently. "Bellamy."
Bell blinked his eyes open. He looked sleepy and miserable, his eyes puffy.
Jackson stroked his fingers through Bellamy's hair, then smiled faintly, cupping Bellamy's cheek in his hand. He brushed his lips against Bell's and pulled back. "Is there anything you want me to tell Octavia for you?" he said, "When I meet her today?"
"Oh. Um. Tell her I love her, and as soon as I can visit her, I will." Bellamy pressed his fingers into his eyes. "Can't think. Uh. Tell her I'm sorry." He looked up at Jackson unhappily.
Jackson swallowed that he didn't need to be sorry and kissed Bellamy again. "I'll tell her," he said. "Promise you'll take care of yourself today."
"I don't even... what should I do?" Bell asked, his fingers slipping through Jackson's hair.
"Rest," Jackson said. "Cry, read, play chess, whatever you feel up to. Just… at least force yourself to eat too."
"I'll try," Bell said. He made a face like he was trying to smile at Jackson, but it looked wrong, and obviously it felt wrong, too, because he let it slide away after a moment. "Thank you for being with me yesterday." He sighed and pulled Jackson in for another kiss. "Octavia already likes you. She'll be glad to see you."
"I hope so," Jackson said, smiling faintly. Octavia might be happy to see Jackson. Or she could be just as much of a mess as Bellamy was right now. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he said, and kissed Bell one last time before leaving.
He met with the guard that would be accompanying him for the day, who was not Allard, thankfully, and they made their way to the Skybox. This guard seemed more interested in light conversation, so Jackson decided he must not be one of the guards that had anything against him or Bellamy, and he was relaxed by the time he got to his first patient.
He went through the sick kids first, with almost no incidents until the last one. Dax seemed like an angry kid, and Jackson knew he was in for murder, but Abby had ordered antibiotics last time she saw him, and she hadn't noted having had any problems treating him.
Apparently, Dax had been biding his time, because as soon as Jackson produced a needle, Dax jumped him, grabbing it and stabbing it into Jackson's thigh, then yanking it out and going for the guard.
The guard had him subdued with his shock baton in what felt like the blink of an eye. "You okay, doctor?" he said, kicking the needle across the floor to Jackson without looking away from Dax.
Jackson picked it up and stood, wincing. "Yeah. That was just antibiotics. I'll be fine," he panted, and left the room. He scribbled notes in his file quickly to order another dose of antibiotics for Dax, with special instructions that he needed to be restrained next time. Next to him, the guard was scribbling his own notes, and by the time they both finished, Jackson felt like he could breathe normally again.
He moved on to his next set of patients, ignoring the painful twinge in his leg.
By the time he got to Octavia's cell, he had calmed down for the most part. Of course, knowing he was about to meet her sped his heart rate back up again. He knocked on the door and called, "Medical!", then let himself in.
Octavia was lying on her bunk, staring at the ceiling. She turned her head when he came in, then sat up. "You're Jackson," she said. Her gaze was dull, her eyes red-rimmed, but she wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and straightened.
Jackson blinked at her for a moment. "I am," he said, giving her a sad smile. After a moment of hesitation, he went and sat next to her, careful not to sit too close. He had no idea how she reacted to people she didn't know after being isolated so long. "How did you know that before I told you?"
She sniffled and looked down. "My brother showed me a picture of you. He--he said if anything ever happened to him and Mom, I should ask you for help. But I'm guessing you've already done all you can. Is--" She broke off and looked up at him. "What happened to him? All they told me is that they'd decided not to float him."
He held her gaze. "He's free. He's off the guard, and I'm not sure what happens next for him, but he's staying with me. And I'll make sure he's okay." He cleared his throat. "He told me to tell you that he loves you, and that he'll visit you as soon as he can, and that he's sorry."
"Why is he sorry?" she asked, her voice flat. "I'm the one who was born without permission. I'm the reason he lost everything." She slumped back against the wall, her eyes filling with tears.
"Hey," Jackson said softly, turning to better face her. He reached out and touched her shoulder automatically, then thought better of it and withdrew his hand. "I know he shouldn't be sorry, and I'm going to work on getting him to believe that too, but he wanted me to tell you, so I did." He leaned down to sift through his bag, then produced a tissue for her. He held it out. "And none of this is your fault either."
She took the tissue, but she just stared at it for a few moments before wiping her eyes with it. "He and Mom would have been better off without me. You make him happier than I ever did." She hunched her shoulders. "I shouldn't have gone to the dance. Bell only offered because he knew how unhappy I was. Ah--" She let out a ragged breath that was almost a sob, then pulled her knees up to her chest. "They didn't--They didn't even let me say goodbye to Mom. Did...Is..." She looked at him. "Did they already..."
Jackson nodded. "Yesterday morning," he told her. "Bell was there. She seemed… calm. Like she'd accepted it a long time ago. She said it wasn't either of your faults."
Octavia's face crumbled for a moment, but even though her eyes filled with tears again, she didn't actually cry. She squeezed her eyes shut and put her face in her hands, and whispered, "I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not--" Then she choked on the words and began to cry.
Oh, God. Jackson felt his eyes sting, and he touched her shoulder again, this time not pulling away. "Can I--" he managed, then swallowed hard. "Am I allowed to hug you, Octavia?"
She answered by throwing herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest.
Jackson wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, resting his chin on the top of her head. "You don't need to be afraid," he said. "Bell would do anything for you, and I will too." He'd just met Octavia, sure, but he already felt connected to her through Bellamy. If Bellamy would bear so much to protect his sister for so long, she must be worth it.
He stroked his hand over her hair and glanced over at the guard just inside the door. He looked utterly confused, but Jackson just gave him an apologetic look and went back to holding Octavia.
"Will you tell him I love him?" she asked, her voice muffled. "Tell him I'll be brave."
"Of course I will. I'll tell him anything you want," he said.
She sniffled and pulled back a little, wiping her face with the crumpled tissue he'd given her. "Tell him I order him to be happy," she said, sounding miserable. She scrubbed her hand over her eyes. "We used to play a game," she explained. "Because he named me after the emperor's sister. He was my bodyguard and I gave him quests and ordered him to do things." She sighed.
For some reason, that made Jackson smile and get teary, and he was only slightly aware of being grateful he had his back to the guard. Bellamy named her? Bellamy played a game with her where he was her bodyguard and took orders from her? God Bellamy loved her. "I'll tell him," he said, not bothering to hide the emotion in his voice. "I promise."
Octavia hugged him again. "Thank you," she whispered. "And--and you help him be happy. He really likes you." She sniffled. "I like you. I liked you before I met you because you made him happy." Her voice was wobbly, but he didn't think she was actually crying.
"Thank you," he said, squeezing her. "I like you too. Because you make him happy. Because he needs you." He paused for a moment, wondering if he might be able to make her smile. He wanted to make her smile just because he did, but he also didn't want to start examining her while she was miserable. So he sucked in a breath and added, "And clearly you and Bellamy were both hit with the Pretty Stick one too many times."
She snorted and pulled back to give him a look, but when he just looked back at her, his expression sincere, she huffed and, with a hint of reluctance, let one corner of her mouth curve up. "That's ridiculous," she told him.
"Not at all," he said, allowing himself to smile at her faintly. Then he shifted to kneel in front of her, sifting through his bag again. "Girls were never my thing, but I can appreciate beauty in all its forms." He pulled out a blood pressure cuff. "Do you… know anything about physical examinations? I can talk you through it all, if you need it."
"I've never had a doctor before," Octavia told him. "Tell me everything. I'm curious. There's so much I don't know."
"I know. I didn't know if Bell and your mom taught you about anything medical, though," he said, a little sad for her, but then explained the blood pressure cuff before wrapping it around her arm and taking her blood pressure, which was very normal.
He pulled it off, and started to take her pulse, which she tried to chatter through. He smiled and pressed his finger to his mouth to silence her, then looked at his watch and counted until he had the number he was looking for. He explained it after.
He listened to her heart and lungs, and everything seemed normal, then he drew back and held her gaze. "They want a full blood panel on you," he said. "I'll have to stick you with a needle, and I know that scares a lot of people. But it just stings for a moment, I promise."
Octavia shrugged. "I've poked myself with needles before," she said. "Mom taught me to sew so I could help her with her work."
Jackson nodded, but settled his hands on her shoulders. "Different kind of needle. This one is hollow so I can collect your blood through it."
"Why collect my blood?" she asked, offering him her hand.
"It'll tell us a lot about your health," he said. "Right now, your file is blank, which is unheard of for a girl your age. I don't expect to find anything wrong, but your blood will tell us everything. Well, at least it will tell us if we need to look at anything else."
He took her offered hand. "It could be worse. I could be asking for your poop."
She gave him a startled laugh. "Really? Gross. Ugh." She watched him prepare to take the blood sample, tying off her arm and feeling for a vein, then lifted her gaze to his face. "Did you meet Bellamy because you did all this for him?" Her gaze was sharp on his face. Jackson suspected she wanted to be distracted from what he was doing.
He swabbed her inner elbow and positioned the needle. "This will hurt. Just a tiny bit. Slight pinch. Stay still," he said, his fingers pulsing against the vein in her arm one more time. "I met Bellamy in medical, yeah," he said. "He was hurt from training," he said. "Do you want warning before I do this?" he asked, then pushed the needle in before she could respond because she clearly didn't.
She hissed, but didn't twitch. After a moment she said, "He always said it was training accidents, but I wasn't sure I always believed him. He used that same tone of voice when he was lying to Mom."
Jackson calmly collected a few vials of blood. "I'm actually not allowed to disclose any details about why I was treating him." It was true. It had the added benefit of him not having to expose Bell's abuse to her if he didn't want it exposed, though. "Not quite done," he said as he released the strap around her upper arm. "You have good veins." He darted a small smile at her, then looked back at the last vial he was filling.
"I don't know a lot about how to talk to other people, but I'm guessing that's a doctor compliment and not a normal person compliment?" Her tone was amused, which Jackson thought was an accomplishment.
He smiled at her again. "Are you implying doctors aren't normal people?" he teased gently. He sealed the last vial, removed the needle and bandaged her inner elbow.
"Well, so far you and the other doctor, the woman, have been the nicest people to me. So maybe you aren't normal." She was studying his face. "And Bellamy fell for you, even though he never falls for anyone." She tipped her head to one side, her expression considering. "Definitely not normal people."
Jackson sat back on his heels, still crouched in front of her. "Maybe you're right," he said. "But there are a lot of nice people around, so don't assume everyone will be cruel just because they put you in here. You know what they say about assuming things?"
"Bell says it makes an ass out of you and me," she said, and that earned Jackson her first genuine smile.
Jackson nodded and smiled back at her, reaching out to clasp her hands between his. "I'm really glad I got to meet you."
Octavia kept smiling at him for a few moments, then it slowly faded. "I just wish we could have met without all the bad stuff happening," she said softly. "You'll take care of Bellamy for me?"
"Of course," he said, giving her hands a squeeze and then letting go to repack his medical kit. When he stood to leave, his leg twinged and threatened to give out, but didn't. "If you have any problems, ask for me. I can probably find an excuse to come see you," he told her, then tugged her gently to her feet to give her a brief hug before leaving.
The guard was full of questions about why Octavia had gotten such special treatment, but Jackson brushed them off for the most part. By the time he reported back to medical on the Skybox kids, it was near dinner time.
He stopped by the mess and got food for himself and Bellamy (just in case), then went back to his rooms. When he came inside, Bellamy was asleep in bed, clutching the teddy bear Jackson had found under the floor in Bellamy's quarters. He was surprised Bellamy didn't rouse when the door opened, but then Jackson saw a half-empty bottle on the bedside table.
Jackson sighed, dropping their food off at the table. He walked to the bed and sniffed the bottle to confirm it was, in fact, moonshine, then flopped down on the edge of the bed hard enough to jolt Bellamy awake.
"Octavia says she loves you, that she'll be strong, and that she orders you to be happy."
Bellamy sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. "Orders me, huh?" he mumbled, his voice rough from sleep. He pulled his knees up and draped his arms over his knees. "How is she really?"
"She's obviously not very happy, but no one should expect her to be," Jackson said, watching Bell. "But as far as I know right now, until her lab results come back, she's perfectly healthy, and I managed to get her to smile at least a little."
Bellamy lifted his head and gave Jackson a small smile. "Yeah? She smiled at you?" He didn't seem to realize he was still holding the teddy bear.
Jackson returned Bellamy's smile with one of his own, letting it look just slightly smug. "I even stole a couple of hugs," he said.
Bellamy opened his mouth, then checked himself. After a moment, he murmured, "You're amazing." He moved to wrap his arms around Jackson, pressing his head against Jackson's shoulder. "I'm so glad she could talk to you today. Thank you. Thank you so much."
Jackson held Bellamy tightly, turning his head to kiss Bellamy's hair. "It was my pleasure," he murmured. He drew a deep breath and let it out. "When she gets out, we're really going to have to keep an eye on the boys, aren't we?"
Bellamy huffed a noise that might have been amused. "I used to tease her I was going to keep her hidden until she was too old for boys. She never thought that was very funny." Jackson felt him take a couple of deep breaths. "I don't know what either of us would do without you."
"You'd figure something out," Jackson said, pulling back enough to look at Bell. "I'm glad you don't have to, though." He leaned in for a kiss that tasted like alcohol, then pulled away with a sigh. "Have you had dinner?"
"I ate lunch late." Bellamy rubbed his hand through his hair frowning. "Gillmer and Barton were in the mess when I went in. That was..." He shrugged. "Awkward. Crappy. What time is it?"
"A little after six." Jackson looked over at the bottle. "I'd ask you to have dinner with me, but… How drunk are you, on a scale of one to 'I might throw up if I try to eat'?"
Bellamy huffed a laugh. "Um...five? Ish? I definitely had more than I usually do, but I guess I've been asleep about three hours or so. I was reading..." He looked around and then realized the teddy bear had fallen in his lap. "Huh. I stopped by to get some of O's stuff after lunch." He picked up the bear and looked sadly at it.
"I see that," Jackson said, running a hand over his thigh where a lump had been forming for the last couple hours. He should probably ice it, but he didn't really want to explain to Bellamy what had happened. Then again, Bellamy might see it when they went to bed tonight.
Jackson sighed and stood, walking over to the table to eat. "I brought you a tray, if you're hungry," he said, starting to poke around his plate with his fork. "How were Gillmer and Barton crappy?"
"They weren't crappy, so much." Bell followed him over to the table and settled down across from Jackson. "It was just...crappy because I'm not one of them anymore. They were awkward about it, you know?"
Jackson hummed a thoughtful noise as he chewed, tilting his head at Bellamy. "They'll come around," he said. "And if they don't, they didn't deserve your friendship to begin with."
"Nah, they're good guys, really," Bellamy said. "I think they just aren't sure what to...y'know, how to be around me." He looked at the food Jackson had brought him and tentatively took a couple of bites.
Jackson took another bite of his food. He wanted to say he wasn't sure how to to be around Bellamy after first learning about what had happened, but that as soon as he was face to face with Bell, he knew what he had to do. Of course, that wasn't fair, though. Platonic relationships were different from relationships where love was involved. "They'll come around then," he said, hoping it would be true.
Bellamy nodded slowly. "I hope so. They'd sometimes step in when Grus' boys got out of hand. And I liked playing basketball with them." He swallowed another bite of his food and then huffed an unhappy laugh. "Maybe you actually have it easier, since all you have to do is hug me and let me cry on you." When he looked up at Jackson, his gaze was warm, despite the grief that hadn't really left his face for three days.
Jackson tilted his head, considering. "Yeah," he said quietly. "But I don't think so." He took another bite and didn't drop Bell's gaze when Bell gave him a curious look. He swallowed and said, "I think distance is easier actually."
Bell looked at him for several heartbeats, but finally said, "How?" The question sounded reluctant.
Jackson shrugged, half-wishing he hadn't started this conversation. "You risked everything," he said, "to take Octavia to a party to make her feel less sad." Jackson sniffed. "I know it's not the same with me, but I know that when someone you care about hurts deeply, you feel it in your own body." He reached across the table to curl his fingers around Bell's. "I feel it."
Bellamy opened his mouth, then closed it and just squeezed Jackson's hand. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and when Jackson looked up, he saw Bellamy's eyes were a little wet. "I wish I knew how to not let you feel it, but I--I'm grateful that you do. It's..." Bell looked down at their hands. "It's not easier because you care, exactly, but...I can bear it because you do. I wish I could make you feel how grateful I am that you didn't disappear when this happened."
"Why would I disappear?" Jackson said. His fingers gripped Bell's tighter. "None of it was your fault."
Bell shrugged. "Mom told me once that my father disappeared when she got pregnant because they weren't married and he apparently didn't want to be. And I know you're not that kind of person, but...there are plenty of people who would have just vanished once they realized something was hard." He shrugged again and started eating with his free hand.
Jackson gave Bellamy a painful smile. God, he couldn't imagine what it felt like to be abandoned by his own father. "I'm not scared of hard, Bellamy," he said. "I embrace hard."
That made Bellamy snort. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. I'm not sure you would have put up with me being surly at you for eight months and still decided you wanted in on this, otherwise." He looked down at his plate and shoved another forkful of food in his mouth.
Jackson sighed, squeezing Bell's hand. "Would you mind getting me some ice?" he said, then immediately held a hand up. "I'm fine. I don't want to talk. Just… ice would be nice."
Bellamy frowned at him, but he got up without speaking and went to get the ice. When he came back, he had a bottle of water with him along with the ice. "Today I tried to think about what to do with myself. With my life." He held out the ice, not asking any questions, but Jackson couldn't help feel like the change in topics was some sort of rebuke. "I still don't know what I want."
Jackson took the ice and rested it on his thigh over the burning lump. "Okay," he said. "What do you like other than history and war?" He wondered if Bell could enter the teaching program at his age. Octavia was clearly smart, and Jackson couldn't imagine Bellamy didn't have something to do with that.
Now that he thought about it, was Bell too old, even at twenty-one, to enter any of the professions that required more training? God, they were going to assign Bell some rudimentary job soon if he didn't insist on more, weren't they?
Fuck. Jackson tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach and took another bite.
"It's not that I like war so much as military history and tactics," Bellamy said. "Which isn't exactly something people care much about on the Ark." He rubbed his forehead. "Thing is...I guess if I could think of something I wanted, I might like doing something with history, but teaching is the only thing I can think of, and..." He shook his head and took a long drink of water.
"You should talk to someone about teaching then," Jackson said. "Sooner rather than later." Maybe they could make an exception for Bellamy and let him into the program late.
Bell sighed. "I have a feeling they'll tell me I should have decided that about five years ago," he said, looking up to meet Jackson's gaze. "And even if they were willing to count my teaching Octavia towards experience, you really think they'd want someone who got kicked out of the guard for not having enough integrity?" His tone turned bitter toward the end, and he looked back down at his plate.
"That's bullshit, and you know it," Jackson said, frowning. "So you're not even going to try? You know they'll just assign you the first job that comes along that anyone could do if you don't advocate for yourself."
"I know it's bullshit, but do you really think they'll listen to my side of things?" Bell rubbed his face. "Do you think..." Then he sighed. "Never mind. I don't know."
"Never mind what?" Jackson insisted, starting to feel a little irritated at the idea that Bellamy might just resign himself to whatever the Ark threw at him. "As far as I know, there has never been a situation quite like yours on the Ark, so there is no precedent for how they'll treat you. You can't just assume the worst."
Bellamy gave him a crooked smile. "The Ark's never really done anything good for me, except letting me meet you." He shook his head. "I'm not good at wanting things, J. You were the first time I ever insisted on getting what I wanted."
Jackson pressed his lips together. Those words should make him feel good, but right now he needed Bellamy not to give up. "I worked out pretty well," he said. "Maybe you should try insisting on more."
"God, I--" Bellamy's smile strengthened a little. "Yeah. You worked out pretty well." He nodded. "So...who do you think I should talk to? Do you think... Doctor Griffin's done so much for me already, I'd hate to take advantage, but..."
Jackson felt tension in his shoulders that he hadn't realized he was holding relax. "I'm not sure who you should talk to. It's probably out of Abby's hands, but she'll probably know who to direct you to. I'll ask her tomorrow." He gave Bellamy a faint smile and continued eating.
Bell nodded. "Thanks for pushing me. If you hadn't made me promise to eat lunch, I probably would have stayed in bed all day. It's hard to make myself care about anything."
Jackson sighed. "I know," he said gently. He knew, no matter how hard he pushed Bellamy, depression wasn't something Bellamy could just snap out of. But that didn't mean Jackson was going to stop pushing. "You care about your sister. You care about me. We'll care about you until you can do that for yourself again."
***
Bellamy stared down at the clothes in his arms and thought, irrationally, how fucking pissed off he was at his boyfriend.
Which was completely unfair, but Jackson had pushed him so hard to want something for himself, pushed him to talk to the career director about teaching, and somehow, Jackson had pushed Bellamy right into getting his hopes up that maybe things would work out.
But the Ark never had done anything good for Bellamy, and obviously it still wasn't in a giving mood.
He looked over his shoulder at the careers director's office door, muttered, "Fuck you," in a petty and impotent show of defiance, and headed for Farm Station. Hannah Green was probably tired of seeing his face, considering he'd never used to drink this much, but Bell didn't care. If the Ark was going to rob him of almost anything he'd ever cared about, he intended to drink enough tonight that he wouldn't care about anything.
By the time he got back home, his resentment had worked its way up into real anger. It was probably a good thing he hadn't run into Grus or any of his boys on his way back to Jackson's quarters, because he had a feeling he'd have shown them what kind of damage he could do if he was willing to fight back.
He dumped his new 'uniform' on the table, pushed off his shoes, and retreated to the bed with Octavia's teddy bear and the bottle of moonshine.
He was, unfortunately, still awake a couple of hours later when Jackson got home, but for the first time in a week, he almost couldn't feel any of the pain that had settled in. Almost.
Jackson peeled out of his coat immediately, letting out a heavy sigh. "Flu is going around," he muttered. "I'm probably covered in it. Gonna shower, and then you can tell me how it went today." He headed for the bathroom, tugging his shirt off over his head.
"Great," Bell mumbled. "I'll be here." He waited until Jackson was in the shower to pour himself one more glass. He wondered how Jackson would feel about having a fucking janitor for a boyfriend.
His glass was empty and he was considering pouring another by the time Jackson reemerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around his waist. He started dressing, but Bellamy didn't miss the way he eyed the bottle and empty glass on the bedside table. "Didn't go well, did it?" he said cautiously.
Bellamy made a disgusted noise. "So much for getting my Goddamn hopes up."
Jackson frowned deeply, tugging some jeans on, then sat down next to Bellamy without bothering to get a shirt. "Tell me what happened."
"Don't need any new teachers, wouldn't be inclined to train me even if they did. I should consider myself lucky they didn't float me along with my mother, since I was a fucking accessory to her crimes. I should also consider myself lucky they need janitors, since that means I still get to eat." Bellamy's stomach twisted at the thought, just like it had when the careers director said those words. A janitor. He got kicked out of the guard, so he asked to be a teacher, and instead they slapped him in the face with janitor.
Jackson sucked in a breath and let it out, his expression going more sympathetic. He reached over and brushed his fingers against Bellamy's hair. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, well." Bellamy couldn't meet his gaze. He looked over at the wall, wishing he'd poured another glass, because his eyes were stinging suddenly. The pain was still there. "I should have known better than to hope for anything good, that's all."
Jackson's hand slid out of his hair and onto Bell's shoulder. "Being a janitor isn't automatically bad," he said.
"Yeah, great, I get to spend the rest of my life picking up other people's trash," Bell muttered. "What's the fucking point?"
Jackson sighed and dropped his hand. "Picking up other people's trash is more admirable than staying in bed and getting trashed."
"Easy for you to say, doctor," Bellamy said, rolling over to face the wall. He felt a pang of guilt as he said it, but he shoved it down.
He felt Jackson shift. "Are we doing this now?" he said, his voice somewhere between defensive and wounded. He shifted again, and then there was a sloshing that sounded suspiciously like Jackson had taken a drink from the bottle. When Jackson hissed, Bell's suspicion was confirmed.
The bed shifted again, and Jackson was walking across the room toward the bathroom.
Fuck. He should have made sure to finish the bottle before Jackson got home. Bellamy glared at the wall, unwilling to turn over.
He heard Jackson take another drink, and then the splashing of the remainder of the bottle going down the sink. "I should have done this days ago," Jackson muttered.
"Because I don't know where to get more," Bellamy called over his shoulder. Some part of him hated the bitter sarcasm in his voice. Jackson didn't deserve this. But Bellamy didn't have the power to take it out on the people who did.
"Well," Jackson said. "Get drunk in your own rooms from now on then."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Bellamy exhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut. Before he knew what he was going to say, he blurted, "Yeah, that's an easy way to get rid of your janitor boyfriend."
Jackson huffed an angry laugh, then Bellamy heard a chair slide out from the table. "Until he's sober."
"So what?" Bellamy demanded, sitting up and turning to face him. "I'm not supposed to be angry about this? I'm just supposed to say, 'Thanks for turning me into a nobody?' I'm supposed to what--be okay with getting fucked over by the Council and the Chancellor and your precious Doctor Griffin?"
Jackson was seated at the table, looking unhappy, but a flash of anger crossed his features then. "Abby is part of the reason you're not floating in space right now, and she's the closest thing I have to family. You can either show some fucking respect, or you can stumble back to Factory Station right now," he spat.
Bellamy scowled down at his knees, feeling a prickle of shame. He did appreciate what Abby Griffin had done for him. "You're right," he mumbled, his stomach churning. "She actually tried to help." Even if it hadn't been enough to get him a job that allowed him any dignity, it had saved his life.
Jackson's shoulders relaxed. "I don't expect you not to be angry. But the only way you'll ever be a nobody is if you choose to keep drinking your life away."
Bellamy's eyes stung at that, and he squeezed them shut, turning his head so Jackson wouldn't see. "I just wanted to see if I could forget," he whispered. "Just--just for a while." He sucked in a breath. "It hurts so much."
Jackson sighed. "Is it working, though? Because it doesn't look like it."
Bellamy couldn't argue with that. He shook his head, feeling the tears spill over. Damn it. He was so damn tired of feeling like this.
He heard Jackson get up, and then Jackson was sitting next to him, sort of straddling Bellamy sideways, one leg behind Bell's back. "Then stop," he said, tugging Bellamy against his bare chest.
"I'm sorry," Bellamy whispered, wrapping an arm around Jackson's neck and pressing his face against Jackson's shoulder.
Jackson's fingers stroked Bellamy's hair. "Don't apologize," he said.
I love you, Bellamy thought, but he bit back the words, just as he had every time they tried to escape over the past week. He didn't know when a good time to say them would be, but there had to be a better time than this, when he was drunk and miserable. "They've stripped away everything that defines me," he mumbled. "I don't even know who I am anymore."
Jackson turned his head to kiss Bellamy's hair. "You're not defined by your family or your job," Jackson murmured. He pressed a hand to Bellamy's chest. "You're still in there."
Bellamy slumped against him. "Maybe. I just don't know how to find me."
"Well, you won't drunk," Jackson said, sighing. "I've seen people spiral out of control trying to numb their own pain. I've seen how fast that can happen. How could I even look Octavia in the eyes if I let that happen to you?"
Bellamy sighed. "She made you promise to take care of me, huh?"
"She didn't make me promise, necessarily, but I told her I would." Jackson stroked his fingers over Bellamy's shoulder. "Don't make me a liar."
"God, J, you're too good to me." Bellamy straightened suddenly as his stomach lurched. "And I'm going to puke."
He bolted for the bathroom, where he lost half the moonshine he'd drunk, his eyes streaming with reflexive tears. Shit. Now he felt like an idiot.
He didn't hear Jackson follow him, but a moment later, Jackson was crouching beside him. His hand stroked over Bellamy's back, and Bellamy felt another wave of sickness hit him. Jackson's hand stilled on his back as Bellamy vomited again, but didn't pull away.
"It's okay," he said, his tone soothing. "Get it all out."
"M'so stupid," Bellamy mumbled, resting his arm across the toilet seat so he could press his forehead against it. He panted, trying to catch his breath. "Shit."
"You're not stupid," Jackson said, his hand starting to stroke again as he reached up to flush the toilet. Bellamy was grateful for it a moment later when the smell of vomit cleared. "You're hurting."
Bellamy shrugged. "You shouldn't be helping me when I did this." His nose was running now, on top of the awful churning in his stomach.
Jackson pulled a wad of toilet paper from the roll and started dabbing at Bell's face. "I brought water. Let me know when you're ready for it." He tucked the toilet paper under Bell's nose. "Blow."
Bell obeyed. "This is humiliating," he muttered. "I need to rinse my mouth at least."
Bell couldn't help but make a mildly disgusted face at the way Jackson examined his snot for a moment before tossing the toilet paper in the trash and holding up the bottle of water.
Bellamy rinsed and spit a couple of times, then pressed the cold bottle against his forehead. He was shivering and sweating at the same time, but the coolness felt good. He sighed. "So is this how drinking works? You make yourself so fucking miserable physically that you forget to care about all the other shit in your life?"
"Seems to be," Jackson said, tilting his head at Bell. "I'm not one hundred percent sure, since I can't remember the last time touched alcohol before tonight." He stroked his fingers against Bellamy's temple.
Bellamy couldn't really understand why Jackson was being so nice about this. He obviously didn't approve of Bell's choices, but he was still in here helping him. Since Jackson had ignored Bell's earlier comment about it, though, Bell figured he didn't want to explain. Bellamy sipped the water, and this time he swallowed, hoping he could keep it down.
Jackson sighed and sat back against the wall. "I lost a patient last week," he said. "Indirectly. She… she'd had a loss and started drinking. Her son brought her in a few times with alcohol poisoning." He ran a hand over his thigh, looking unhappy. "They told me last week he'd found her dead in a pool of her own vomit."
Bellamy looked at Jackson, then reached out and covered Jackson's hand with his own. "I'm sorry," he said, and meant it both for the patient and for his own actions.
"Don't be." Jackson turned his hand to curl his fingers around Bell's. "Just know that if you start going down that path, I'll walk away," he said, looking up to fix Bellamy with a serious gaze.
Bellamy suddenly felt queasy again, but he wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or from that statement. He had no doubt Jackson meant it. And the idea of losing Jackson on top of everything else he'd lost...
Bellamy leaned over the toilet and threw up again.
Jackson sighed. "And here I was thinking you were done," he said softly. Bellamy felt Jackson's hand against his back again.
"Unnh," Bell managed. He heaved one more time, then sat up and flushed the toilet. Another rinse and spit, and he wiped his face and blew his nose. "Maybe now," he said. He took another sip of water and leaned his head back. "The bathroom isn't spinning quite as much."
"Good," Jackson said. "I guess I'm lucky you even made it here. I have a feeling you'd be useless cleaning up even your own vomit."
Bellamy snorted. "Sickness was the one part of raising Octavia Mom didn't want me to help with. Starting with spit up. After a couple of times cleaning up my puke along with O's, Mom would order me to spend as much time in one of the public lounges when O was sick. Thank God she was a pretty healthy kid." He took a longer sip of water. He was shivering now, but he did feel better than he had.
"Well, she wasn't exactly exposed to much," Jackson said. "I'm hoping her immune system is strong, considering she'll have a roommate soon, and the non-violent Skybox kids do get socialization time."
"Hopefully she'll be like me. I don't get sick much," Bellamy said. "Tonight excepted." He sighed and drank some more water. "I think I could lie down now, if you help me up," he offered.
Jackson nodded and stood, holding an arm down to help Bellamy to his feet. Bellamy sagged against him as the went back to the bed. "You're shivering," Jackson pointed out, pulling back the covers before pressing Bellamy onto the bed and wrapping them over him.
"S'what puking does to me," Bellamy mumbled. His eyelids were getting heavy too, but he had things he needed to say, so he struggled to keep his eyes open. "Be sweating in a minute." He curled his fingers around Jackson's, hoping he would sit next to him.
"Then we'll take the covers off then," Jackson said, sitting on the bed and squeezing Bell's fingers.
Bellamy sighed, but he looked up at Jackson, wishing he could smile. "Don't give up on me," he said quietly. "I won't get any more moonshine."
"Good. For now, at least." Jackson smiled faintly down at him, then leaned over to kiss Bellamy's cheek. "Does it look like I'm giving up on you?" he murmured.
"No. You never have." Bellamy did manage a tiny smile then. "You made me--" He stopped himself just before he said 'love' and changed it to, "trust you, and you've never given me reason to stop." He took a couple of slow breaths. "I'm going to prove you can trust me too."
Chapter Ten