These Battle Scars

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: @severitysoftly

we  did

WHAT WE HAD TO DO

One foot in front of the other. Because the moment that Bellamy stopped, would be the moment he was forced to fully process everything that had happened. What he'd done in Mount Weather. Clarke leaving. Everything. It was too much and all he could do now, was focus on the others. Focus on what was left of the 100. Focus on the other Arkers. He couldn't stop. Terrified of what would happen when he did. Yet with Clarke's revelation and seeing her walk out into the woods . . . caused whatever adrenaline had kept Bellamy going until now, start to rapidly flee his body.

Emotions of hurt and resentment taking its place. All the times she had asked him to stay, he had. His actions at Mount Weather was so that they didn't have to go through it alone, and now, she left everyone. She left him. But no. He couldn't stop. He had to keep moving. The people would need time to heal, and Bellamy could not allow himself to dwell in his own emotions. His own pain. He helped the others get settled, not even bothering to change into a clean set of clothing. He still wore the uniform of the man he had killed -- well, part of the uniform.

After checking on the others, he made his way to medical . . . wanting to see how Raven, Harper, Abby and the others who got drilled were doing. When he stepped inside, he immediately noticed Jackson, aware that the man would be more busy than ever considering Abby's current state. Bellamy wanted to offer his help where he could. While he was no doctor, he could surely offer some assistance with the more basic things. "Fill me in," he said, taking a few steps toward the doctor. He hadn't interacted with Jackson at length since . . . well, since their time on the Ark. The comfort they had found in each other at the time. It had been incredible and Bellamy doubted he'd ever forget it.

The man had helped Bellamy through what he thought would be one of the darkest periods in his life. Until, he came to the ground. "How are they?" He further asked, keeping any sort of emotion from his voice, apart from the stoic concern he felt for the others. The moment he let one emotion slip through, he feared all of them would. And right now, he was just focusing on taking one step at a time; one foot in front of the other. Though part of him -- the human part of him -- was starting to feel the effects of everything. Not only the emotional aftermath, but the physical one too of the harvesting, and lack of food, water, and rest. But he couldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow it.

[Deleted]

Jackson glanced over at Bellamy as he approached, but quickly looked back at what he was doing. He hadn't interacted with Bellamy directly since the Ark, and if he was honest, part of him had been glad for that. Things had gotten so intimate between them, and Jackson opened up to him so much, thinking Bellamy was going to die. And now Bellamy wasn't dead. Far from it.

But there wasn't time to dwell on that right now. He had patients to help, and he didn't even have the full story when it came to what exactly happened in Mount Weather. "They're stable. In pain, obviously, and they're weak. Not much can be done about that, except wait for they red blood counts to come back up." From what he understood, there was probably medical supplies in Mount Weather they could use to speed everyone's recovery, but Jackson wouldn't suggest that. Not yet. Not when there were probably still bodies to be dealt with.

He glanced over at Bellamy again, and then did a double take and stared at Bellamy's face. He did not look well at all. Jackson knew he'd been in Mount Weather longer than any of them, but what had he been through? "Bellamy, you look... are you okay?"

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: @severitysoftly

we  did

WHAT WE HAD TO DO

Bellamy listened attentively as Jackson explained the situation among those injured from Mount Weather. They had lost so many people . . . even within the Mountain where Bellamy should have stopped it. Where he hadn't been able to stop it. He forced back those thoughts, knowing that right now, he needed to focus on the living. Jackson's question caused Bellamy to briefly glance at the male, before turning his gaze back to the patients that filled the room.

"I'm fine," he said dismissively, an automatic reaction to the question. How could he be anything but fine? He had to be fine. There was no other choice. "Do they need blood?" Bellamy inquired. "I can start working on getting donors," he suggested, needing to do something to help them rather than just stand here and stare. Well, that was only relevant if it was an option. "How can I help?" He added on, broadening the question as he now turned his head to properly look at Jackson. He couldn't remain idle. He hated the thought of their poeple suffering and if there was something, anything he could do to assist them -- or the doctor -- then he would damn well do it.

[Deleted]

Jackson shook his head. "They don't need blood, they need time. Bone marrow regenerates, and once it does, they'll be on their feet again."

Bellamy really didn't look good, and Jackson didn't believe that he was 'fine', but he didn't have time to try to force treatment on someone who would probably fight him on it. "You can help me make sure everyone is comfortable. There's water over there," he said, gesturing at a table across the room.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: @severitysoftly

we  did

WHAT WE HAD TO DO

Bellamy was at least relieved to hear that everyone would recover. With time. He hoped they had it, unsure of what the Grounders now intended to do ever since running away on the battle field. But that would be a problem they dealt with when the time called for it. Right now, Jackson had given Bellamy a task, and Bellamy was going to carry it out. He made it way to the pitcher of water, starting to fill a few cups and then distributing them to each person.

Exchanging only a few words with them, mainly to check and see how they were -- for those of them that weren't sleeping. They were groggy for the most part -- understandably so -- but at least this gave him something to focus on. Something to channel whatever energy he had left into. Once that was done, he returned to Jackson, trying to keep himself steady though was starting to feel slightly disoriented.

"I can stay for a bit, until others get settled and we have more help in here." He wasn't sure how Jackson would feel about that but . . . it was somewhere to be. Somewhere that was better than being by himself. He knew this wouldn't last forever, that he would be forced to dwell in his thoughts . . . but for now, seemed like a pretty damn good excuse to avoid it. "If you're fine with that," he added on, giving the man a choice. Whatever helped Jackson work better, and Bellamy didn't exactly want to be a hindrance.

[Deleted]

Jackson occasionally glanced up and watched Bellamy move around the room. By the time he got back to Jackson, he was definitely a little unsteady, but clearly trying to work through it. Jackson understood. There were times, both on the Ark and on the ground, that Jackson neglected his own health to continue working to help others. But right now, there really wasn't much for Bellamy to do, and Jackson couldn't ignore his state anymore. He didn't need a head wound to stitch shut if Bellamy passed out and hit the floor.

Jackson looked at him for a moment, then said, "I don't need your help, but I do want you to stay." He gripped Bellamy's shoulders, his gaze intent on Bellamy's face. "When was the last time you slept? Or ate? Or drank water?"

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: @severitysoftly

we  did

WHAT WE HAD TO DO

He wanted him to stay. Bellamy knew where this was going, relating back to his earlier question. The moment he felt Jackson put his hand on his shoulder however, Bellamy pulled away. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, turning his head away from the doctor. The abrupt reaction . . . not one that he meant at all. Nor was Jackson deserving of any of it. Perhaps it was a reminder that Bellamy had sought out Jackson for comfort before; that the man had the ability to comfort him with a single touch. And right now, Bellamy didn't deserve that. Less than ever. Jackson had once seen him at his worst on the Ark . . . but now, he was even more of a monster. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he gathered himself, regaining some semblance of composure.

"I'm fine," he said more calmly as he looked back at the male, an apology evident in his eyes. Perhaps he was already set on a self destructive path . . . he didn't know. His words, his adament answer of how he was fine . . . well, maybe it was just a way for him to convince himself too. He just knew that his entire body hurt, inside and out, and he didn't know what to do to ease the pain. Perhaps there was nothing he could do. "I'm sorry," he finally said, in a low voice but thick with sincerity. "I just . . . need to be doing something." And he hoped Jackson would understand that . . . even if Bellamy knew his health was slipping and soon enough, he'd be useless as ever.

[Deleted]

Jackson was surprised when Bellamy jerked away, snapping at him, but he just straightened to his full height. He could feel his brows draw together, but for the most part his expression just went very serious. He'd had combative patients before, and Bellamy had had trouble accepting comfort even on the Ark the last time they spent time together. It wasn't exactly surprising Bellamy jerked away now that Earth had piled more trauma on him. He was a different man now, but so was Jackson. Jackson had had to start learning on the Ark when to speak his mind and be stubborn and push people when he thought it was the right thing to do.

The tension in Jackson's brow faded when Bellamy first looked apologetic, and then actually apologized, but the seriousness with which he fixed Bellamy didn't disappear. He didn't want to make a scene, though, so he touched Bellamy's arm again, this time guiding him into a more private area of medical. "You're not going to be capable of doing anything pretty soon if you don't stop to take care of yourself," he said, holding Bellamy's gaze with what he hoped was enough intensity to get through to Bellamy. He knew Bellamy had become something of a leader on Earth, but what Bellamy was doing now was just stupid. "You'll be useless if you don't. Is that what you want? Because you're barely standing now."


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: @severitysoftly

we  did

WHAT WE HAD TO DO

Bellamy moved along with Jackson to a less public area, knowing where he was going with this. He remained silent as Jackson spoke, telling him that he wasn't going to be capable of doing anything; that he needed to take care of himself. That he would be, useless otherwise. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing. It seemed that Bellamy was far more capable of killing people than saving them, looking at the ratio. Maybe being useless would spare others from falling under his murderous path. He meant what he said to Clarke all those weeks ago: he's a mosnter. And now . . . he was left alone to deal with it. Monty was here, but Bellamy couldn't shift his burdens onto the former delinquent. He wanted to be there for him, strong for him.

And that was when Bellamy realized it, more than ever, or well acknowledged it: his life was not his to live. He lived for others. He was whatever they needed him to be. "I bare it so they don't have to," he whispered in a quiet voice, not even sure if he had actually said it out loud. Words that Clarke had said to him. And yet, she bore it . . . away from the others. But, he couldn't and wouldn't abandon them like she did. He was here for the people. And he would stay for the people. Finally making eye contact with Jackson, he just gave a slow nod of his head. "Alright." Because his life was not his own, and he had to embrace this purpose. Because without it, he had nothing. "Let's do this then." He slowly stepped back into the main room, already seating himself on one of the bed -- though didn't plan on claiming it if someone else needed it, and proceeded to roll up his sleeve, aware that he needed an IV to make up for his severe dehydration.

[Deleted]

Jackson felt relieved when Bellamy agreed, letting the serious expression fade into a more neutral one that he knew probably looked tired. He followed Bellamy over to the table and started taking his vitals. "Thank you," he said gently.

Bellamy's pulse was high and a little irregular, but when Jackson tried to get a blood pressure, he couldn't get much of a reading. "How long were you in there without water?" he said, his tone still soft as he pressed Bellamy's shoulder to get him to lie back on the table. "I can't even get a blood pressure on you."

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: @severitysoftly

we  did

WHAT WE HAD TO DO

Bellamy couldn't help but feel guilty hearing Jackson's gratitude. It should be Bellamy thanking him for wanting to make sure he was alright. Instead, he just gave a short nod, silently letting Jackson start to check over everything. Bellamy's eyes landed on the puncture wounds where they had inserted the needle to harvest him. No sooner did his mind flash back to that, did Jackson ask how long he was without water for . . . stating that he couldn't get a steady blood pressure reading. Bellamy knew it wouldn't benefit anyone if he wasn't honest. He had no intention of telling anyone what happened in Mount Weather.

Only that he had been . . . delayed, in getting to the radio to communicate with Clarke and Raven. Not the reason as to why. It didn't really matter any more after all. "A few days," he answered, not having overly thought about it. There had been far more pressing concerns than food, drink and rest. Like the safety of his people. He paused for a few moments, deciding to just go on and be honest with the man.

Though he wasn't entirely ready to lie back on the bed . . . he feared what he would see the moment he closed his eyes. "I was harvested." His tone practically emotionless, for that was not the most relevant thing about Mount Weather, but it may be only a matter of time before Jackson figured it out. He wondered if Jackson knew . . . knew what Bellamy had done in there. If he knew what they had done to save their people. Surely not. Surely he would look at him differently. "Not sure how long for." Just not long enough to kill him.

[Deleted]

Jackson nodded when Bellamy told him how long he'd been in the mountain, but when Bellamy resisted laying down, Jackson frowned. He was about to put his serious expression back on and insist Bellamy lay down when Bellamy admitted to being harvested. Jackson had been able to talk to Abby a little about what happened in the mountain, but he hadn't pushed for many details, opting to let Abby rest and find out more information later. As soon as Bellamy made that admission, the frown left Jackson's face and he looked at Bellamy with empathy.

"I wondered," he said, gently touching Bellamy's arm near the puncture wound. He'd noticed it before and was planning to ask, but this was easier, and he appreciated that Bellamy would open up to that, even if now more than ever they didn't have time for anything resembling a relationship.

Jackson lowered his gaze to the wound and examined it a moment before starting to prep Bellamy's inner elbow for an IV. "I guess if there's an upshot, no infection. Is there anything else I need to look at?"

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: @severitysoftly

we  did

WHAT WE HAD TO DO

Bellamy clenched his jaw, continuing the struggle to withhold his emotion from surfacing. A floodgate; knowing that once he let one come out, they would all come out. And like hell he was going to dump that on Jackson when the man had enough to deal with. He spoke of how there was no infection, a bright side to the entire thing. "There was a decontamination process," Bellamy stated. He didn't know what the hell they had done. Shots, things in his mouth, bathing them in boiling water, and then dousing them with something that hurt more than that. It was how Lincoln had described . . . or perhaps, worse.

"They were pretty meticulous. Wouldn't risk anything getting infected," Bellamy further revealed. They valued the blood, needed it. The sterile environment ensuring that the others did not allow an infection to stain the precious liquid. The knowledge that the only reason he had gotten out of there was thanks to Maya . . . and he had killed her in the end. Closing his eyes for a moment, he looked off to the side, trying to push away the thoughts though he knew they would haunt him for the rest of his life. Whether he was awake or asleep.

Jackson's latter question caused him to pause, as he inquired whether there was anything else that he needed to look at. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his arm away from the doctor, and took off his over shirt, setting it neatly to the side before pulling off the next layer underneath, until his upper body was bare to him. Marks from more insertions of where they true blood, and any other markings from the various explosions, decontamination, bindings, burns from the shock lashes, and anything else that may have covered him. "You tell me." Because Bellamy hadn't bothered inspectin his body.

[Deleted]

Jackson looked up at Bellamy as he explained that he'd been 'meticulously' decontaminated, blinking at him for a moment. How did you decontaminate a human being? Humans were walking petri dishes. It wasn't possible to decontaminate a human being unless... unless... Jackson didn't even want to think about what that meant. Of course there was a gnawing curiosity in the back of his head, but he didn't think Bellamy wanted to explain. No here, anyway, if he ever did.

When Bellamy removed his shirts, Jackson looked over Bellamy's body, taking in the various injuries without inspecting them too closely yet. God, what had Bellamy gone through? He knew there was some sadness in his expression when he looked back at Bellamy, but he only looked at Bellamy for another moment before re-swabbing Bellamy's arm where he'd dragged dirty shirts over it. He didn't bother to warn Bellamy when he stuck the IV needle in. He could handle the sting, obviously.

Once it was in and secure, Jackson started to look over Bellamy's injuries one by one. "I'm going to make you lay down once I look at these," he informed Bellamy. "I can't have you falling off." He was very close to Bellamy, breathing in the same air as he checked the wounds. This felt strange, but not necessarily uncomfortable. Just weird. The last time they'd been this close, and Jackson had his hands on Bellamy's bare skin, it had been about pleasure and comfort. Jackson supposed there was some level of this now that was about comfort. It was part of his job.  But this felt almost surreal.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: @severitysoftly

we  did

WHAT WE HAD TO DO

Bellamy remained completely still as Jackson injected him with the IV and then began to inspect his wounds. The thought of lying down was . . . terrifying. Bellamy knew that his body needed the rest, but how could he admit that he was scared to close his eyes? How could he admit that he was so damn terrified of seeing the images of everyone he had killed. Innocent men, women . . . children. How did he escape that? How did he willingly seek out sleep when it was all he would be able to see? Bellamy's eyes briefly went to Jackson, not failing to notice the close proximity they were at.

Usually, half clad states involved something of a more . . . physically intimate nature between them. This time, it wasn't the same. But that didn't mean Bellamy was entirely neglectful of the past he shared with him. Particularly the bond they had formed. Who knows. At another time, in another place, under different circumstances . . . maybe something more could have happened.

But there were far too many what ifs and maybes. Bellamy would have be appreciative toward the male. Not for the skills he possessed as a doctor; but rather, the comfort he had given him as a friend -- or however they could define their relationship. "How are you holding up?" He asked, genuine concern in his voice. his eyes still rested on Jackson's face, or what he could see of it as he closely inspected his wounds. Also, conveniently ignoring the conversation about getting rest. As Bellamy had decided before, he wasn't going to dump his emotional baggage on anyone else.