Don't Let Your Guard Down

[Braeden Quinn]

Braeden Quinn opened her eyes and knew without looking at that she was alone in bed. She could feel the slight chill from where his warmth had been recently. Rolling over so she faced the room rather then the wall, and so she was in his spot, she looked for him--which thankfully wasn't hard since the room they shared now was one of the smaller rooms. Most of the bigger ones went to families. They didn't need much space so for now they took a smaller one, until a more long term housing plan could be made. She had lived with Bellamy Blake Kane before the Ark went to Earth, so it had just made since to do it now.

When she found him, his back was to her, and it seemed he was only half dressed. Reaching for his shirt that he'd worn last night (and she'd promptly taken off), Braeden slightly pulled it on before tip toeing up behind him. Once she was close her hands slipped around him and one went north, up over his chest, and the other went south coming to rest just slightly tucked into his pant--a tease for what she wanted from her morning since neither of them had a shift his morning. The best part about Bellamy being in charge was that he didn't often have shifts because he his was working in the council room rather then on patrol; though she knew he worried about his father so she never spoke the words allowed. "You let your guard down," She teased, "I could make you my prisoner."

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Braeden Quinn

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy was thoroughly distracted, caught up in his own thoughts. They no longer had the stresses of the Ark, but instead, they had a whole new wave of concerns and struggles. Right now, the major one was these people called Grounders. Survivors of the nuclear war. But furthermore, it was his missing father that made it impossible for Bellamy's mind and heart to be at rest. With Jaha remaining on the Ark , his father had been made Chancellor. And with his mission which he did not sound like he was coming back from -- since the risk was great -- Bellamy had been given the title of Chancellor.

He didn't want it as much as he wanted his father back. The fact that he wasn't here, only made the acting Chancellor afraid, and in a constant state of worry. Fortunately, Braeden helped ease his mind of that. Even her distraction now prompted a small smile on Bellamy's lips. He deeply inhaled, turning his head to the side as she was standing behind him.

His hand went over hers that was on his chest, the sensation of her touch never failing to provide his entire body with warmth -- inner and outer. "Go ahead," he said teasingly. "Though I warn you, I may be a bit difficult to restrain." He was playing along with her comments, not wanting his own fears and worries to cloud the moments they had together, for they were limited enough as it was. With that in mind, he leaned toward her to meet her lips with his own, starting to turn his body so that he was facing her properly.

[Braeden Quinn]

"Go ahead," he said, teasing her, "Though I warn you, I may be a bit difficult to restrain." Braeden looked up at him, and he moved to turn and kiss her. Her hands moved up his chest and around his neck. Damn! She loved him! While their alone time was limited, she was grateful that they had the rest of their lives together. Before she had thought she lost him, when he volunteered for the culling. When he had forcibly stopped her from joining him. Her hands dropped to from his neck, and moved down and around until she could cup his ass--only to have the moment ruined by a knock. Groaning softly she broke the kiss, and turned to grab some pants to pull on before he opened the door. While she was proud of his rank, she planned to keep him in bed a week when his father got back. "Answer it, while I find some restraints." She teased, not moving to find anything, because she wasn't really going to tie him up. Braeden did up her pants, and moved look for her boots. She wasn't PLANNING on leaving, but if there was a knock at the door it meant that nine times out of ten he was needed else were. She even had her playful comments ready. He would tell her he was needed in the council room, and she would tell him he was needed between her thighs. He would tell her that he had to go check on something, and she would tell him to check on her under her clothes. Something to give him something to think about while he went and ran the camp.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Braeden Quinn

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy silently cursed at the knock at his door, much rather indulging in the wonderful distraction that Braeden provided him with. It helped escape everything else, even if it was just a few moments. It even sometimes helped him focus on something apart from the fear and worry he felt for his father. But reality was far harsher, and seldom ever gave them the time they wanted. One day, things would be settled. And they would be able to live a life together. It would be then, that Bellamy would want to solidify their union. While marriage hadn't really been something he thought he'd partake in . . . well, Braeden had certainly changed a lot in terms of his perspective.

"Hold that thought," he said teasingly, not only in regards to her words but also her actions. He gave a slight smirk as he made his way to the door, picking up his shirt on the path and pulling it over his head. He stopped when he was standing there, glancing at Braeden to make sure she was dressed before he pulled it open. What happened next occured within mere seconds. Bellamy didn't have time to react. His head had been half turned behind him and by the time he was facing who was on the other side, he loud bang filled the air and the impact of what peirced him sent him to the ground. All he saw was a masked figure who was no more the moment the trigged was pulled. Bellamy froze for a moment, lying on with his back on the ground as the pain started to register. He cringed from it, his hand instinctively going to his wound, and all he could feel was the warm red liquid start to seep through his shirt and float his hand.

[Braeden Quinn]

Braeden had her back toward to door when he opened it, as she was moving toward her boots rather then paying attention to who it was. The sound of the bang made her body jerk, and duck on instinct; yet at the same time she was twisting around to see Bellamy. "Bellamy!" Whom was falling toward the ground. She pushed her body up and ran toward the door, grabbing her own gun that was near it, and stepping into the hall to make sure whomever had been there wasn't waiting to shot him again--instead she only saw a figure running away. She fired once, but didn't wait to see if she hit or missed, only ducked back in and fell to her knees beside Bellamy. Her hands went to his side where all the blood was coming from. "Bellamy! Look at me!" How bad was it? What was happening? She was pressing hard on the area, panic building in her. "GET A MEDIC!" She yelled when she heard bodies in the hall! "Get doctor Griffin!" She could hear the tremor in her voice. Turning she looked back down at him again; "Help is coming, just hang on, ok. Just keep looking at me! Don't try and move, just stay here until they come!" She wished now that her life was different and she was a doctor rather then a guard so she could help him. She knew nothing about how to help keep him alive. Nothing.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Braeden Quinn

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Everything sounded and seemed so far away . . . even though it was happening right in front of him. The gunshot, Braeden's vioce, it all just seemed so . . . distant. As if muffled. As if he was underwater. His brain was trying to process enough so that he could get his lips to move, but it was to no avail. Nothing was coming out, other than the small coughs as he struggled to breath, the strain of the impact taking a toll on him. At least in the initial moments. She was telling him to hang on . . . telling him not to move. His eyes were on her but they were unfocused, everything around him hazy. He closed her eyes for a moment, swallowing back the pain as he forced himself to stay conscious, even if he couldn't be fully alert.

Opening his eyes once more it seemed that his vision had somewhat cleared and he was able to respond through more than just non verbal attempts. "Keep . . . pressing," he managed to get out, his voice as strained as he felt as he struggled to say the words with as much strength as he could muster. She was pressing on the wound, applying pressure to it and until medical came, it would hopefully ease the bleeding. He was already feeling light headed and dizzy from the loss of blood. His hand weakly moved to rest on top of hers that was already on the wound, focusing on looking at her. "They're a lousy shot," Bellamy added, an attempt of a joke, though when he tried to laugh, it only came out as a few coughs. He was really trying to say that it wasn't as bad as it could be. That it hadn't hit anything too serious . . . or so he assumed since he was still conscious and well, alive.

[Braeden Quinn]

Bellamy closed his eyes and Braeden paniced for a moment, before he opened them again! "Just keep looking at me!" She told him, and he spoke as well. "Keep . . . pressing," He was talking! That was promising! Braeden felt a bit of hope at his words because if he was ok enough to tell her what to do then maybe they had a chance. "They're a lousy shot," Really? She looked up from his wound to his face with a glare, "A trait I do not share," She told him through clenched teeth. She heard the doctors behind her and finally Jackson came in and pushed her to the side. Braeden didn't go far as she watched them work over Bellamy. They put him a stretcher, and begin to take him to the OR. She turned to grab her boots (but not bothering to lace them up), and her other gun, before grabbing her coat and shotgun as well. Then she ran after them, catching up quickly. If anyone tried again she was going to stop them. Once they were outside the surgery room, she ordered someone to find his mother and let her know what happened, but Braeden wasn't leaving until they told her if he was going to live or not. She couldn't go inside the room, but she could see in it. She could hear everything happening. She knew how it was--they had nothing to dull the pain. He'd feel everything.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Braeden Quinn

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Keep looking at her. Yes. He could most certainly do that. He just needed to keep looking at her. She was so very easy to look at as well. His half joke however wasn't met with humor as she glared at him . . . which only amused him further. He tried to laugh, but it proved to be far too much of a strain. Everything was becoming more blurry, hazy. He could feel someone lifting him onto a stretcher, yet he could no longer see Braeden. The thought panicked him but he tried to remain calm, familiar and yet unfamiliar voices around him. The movement stopped soon enough as they started to remove the layers of clothing to tend to the wound. It hurt. A lot. The lack of anesthetics made it worse. Bellamy's body jolted, an involunary action to the pain that was caused by their work.

"Hold him down!" He heard someone yell. He bit his tongue to keep from yelling out in pain, enough to make the inside of his mouth bleed. He didn't want anyone to hear him. "Something . . . to . . . bite . . . " He damn well hoped they understood what he was asking for right now. He could barely get the words out, each emmitted with a strained breath. Fortunately, it only took a few moments before someone put a thick fabric between his lips, allowing him to bite down on it. He felt his eyes well with tears, another involuntary action.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, slightly banging his head against the table as he felt the intensity of pain. They were digging right into his wound and it hurt like a bitch. Which he supposed was fortunate, because soon enough, the pain and blood loss allowed him to slip into a state of unconsciousness. He didn't know how long he was out for. He only knew when the darkness started to fade away. He slightly moved his head, a quiet groan falling from his lips as he forced his eyes to open. His head felt too heavy to lift, and all he could do was wait a few moments for his vision to clear enough to orientate himself and familiarize his surroundings.