To Remind You What It Is to Smile

[Gena Martin]

Bellamy Blake

---

Routine in a new place was valuable. As a barkeeper Gena could witness some truly wonderful exchanges over the days. Their people had returned from Mount Weather. One by one the kids, the survivors trickled in, needing food, often drinks, often an open ear that was not one of their own. She saw kids, with a maturity beyond their age lean on each other, being each others strengths, carrying the weight of their own feelings and the feelings of others on their shoulder. She saw the first blooming attempts of people trying to rebuild themselves from the ashes of what they had witnessed. Gena usually kept away from them, feeling they might need the time to themselves before they were able to talk to someone, unless they came to her. She mostly listened and smiled at them, offering them words of courage that tomorrow would hold a better day. They were on the ground now, they survived, and that in itself was an accomplishment.

Gena liked to work late. She liked to watch the stars when she walked back to her sleeping place. It reminded her of old, easier days. But this night was very different. This night not only reminded her of many pleasant late evenings on the Ark, it was a déjà vu, though one that felt bittersweet. The man she saw was all too familiar, but so very different at the same time. He’s been through a lot, if the rumors were even remotely true. He had seen a lot of blood, a lot of death, a survivor of the mountain himself. With him it was different, though, him she knew. With him she wanted to see that smile again, that could light up an entire room, but seemed reserved for private moments. Normally she should be cleaning the tables, just like on the Ark. That was the kind of routine she appreciated, familiar motions she had been drinking in since she was a little girl accompanying her dad to work. Instead Gena took two glasses, various juices and mixed a drink. She carried both over to the last occupied table. Without announcing herself she placed the drink – non alcoholic but very sweet – before her friend, her mind circling around what she should say. She settled for a reminder of old times, good times between the both of them. 

“You forgot your mop.” She grinned at him, hoping he understood that she was only meaning to tease him a little. He was no longer a janitor from what she understood, but a leader, a role she found a little more befitting of him.

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

To hell and back. That was where it felt like they ahd all come from. And well, they could still very well be in hell. Who knew what tomorrow would hold. All Bellamy knew was that time was not the best healer. That it did not in fact heal all wounds. It didn't for him, and he doubted it did for anyone else. For all the trauma everyone had experienced in very different ways . . . he just didn't know how to cope. He knew what he could do to distract himself from dwelling on his feelings.

When night came, that was a different story. And that was perhaps why he wasn't quite prepared to leave the bar, even when he noticed somewhere in his subconscious mind that everyone else had trickled out as closing time neared. He was afraid. Afraid of the images that haunted him whenever he was left to see them. There were only so many nights he could help keep guard. Sanity was reliant on some sleep, unfortunately. Maybe getting drunk to the point of passing out would help. But really . . . it wasn't the drink nor atmosphere that had brought him here. It was a person. One person in particular: Gena Bartlett.

They had met on the Ark. When he was working as a janitor he would be tasked with cleaning the floor, and with this daily routine, the two had become friends. Bellamy hadn't known what it was to have a friend. A true friend. He had been harboring the secret of Octavia for so long, that having a friend felt like a privilege that he could never afford himself. But then . . . he met Gena.

He met her after Octavia was exposed. And that, had been what helped him cope through the heartbreaking loss of his mother and Octavia's arrest. She had helped him then, and he found himself strangely dependent on her. He couldn't' explain it, but perhaps it was partly what brought him here, to her. He had tried to meet up with her before Mount Weather . . . but that hadn't worked out. Relief had consumed him seeing that she was one of the survivors. As he thought earlier, one never knew what tomorrow would bring. And he didn't want to waste that time.

He was waiting for the place to close, but hadn't realized when that time came. He'd been too wrapped up in his own thoughts, his untouched drink sitting on the table. It wasn't until he saw a figure, and heard her speak that he snapped back into reality. His eyes went to her, an ever so slight smile on his face, hardly noticable unless one was truly looking. Her tease was just so damn refreshing. She . . . was refreshing. Like a breath of fresh air. "Maybe that's cause I'm not here on business," he said returning the tease, the ease in which it came surprising to himself but he made no show of it. "Guess we can finally have that drink I owe you," he added on, hoping she would sit with him. Hoping that somehow . . . they could just forget the world they had been forced into. It almost seemed possible with her. And he couldn't explain how or why . . . only that that was what his instincts told him.

[Gena Martin]

Was that a smile? If it was, it was so fleeting, it was gone within a heartbeat, gone before anyone could even fully register it or take it in. It was a shame. She missed his smile. She had missed it when he disappeared without a word – by now she knew why and where to and she inwardly applauded him for his bravery and wanted to pull on a lock of his, because he could have just told her. It would have saved her a lot of worry about him, especially in the time when she didn’t know where he was. She had often asked herself if he was okay and she had no way of checking in on him. Even knowing he was on the ground, she would have had no way, but it would have taken the control out of her hand, made it easier to deal with the helplessness she often felt up there. Down here she was no longer helpless at all. She wanted to see him smile again.

“Really? That’s too bad. You know the janitors uniform was getting me all hot and bothered:” It really didn’t. It looked like a sack on him, completely out of proportion, then again most janitors simply didn’t have his physique. Gena raised her glass to him, giving him a smirk.

“I guess you still owe me that one, because those two are on me.” Not that she actually had to pay anything for them, it was technicalities, but she was not letting him off the hook so fast, not when she could see he was in no way the same as back then. She wanted to make sure her friend was okay, would be okay. She wanted him to know he could lean on her if he needed to, she would be there for him. And that included not talking about what happened in the Mountain. He would talk if he needed to. The young woman pulled the little plate with nuts towards them.

“So what’s the story behind some of the kids running like a naked wookie with a lightsaber is after them when seeing the nuts? And on top of that mumbling something about brooms and pink squirrels trying to enslave the white rabbit?”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

It felt so normal to be with her. Normalcy. That was what he craved. That was what was found so easily in her company. And the fact that he could look at her, actually look at her without being reminded of everything he had done to save her. She was not one of the peoeple in Mount Weather. She had been here, away from the danger of the Mountain Men. She had survived, not because of him or his actions. There was an odd sense of relief in that. Her comment about being hot and bothered suddenly made something stir within him. Something . . . that compelled him to find a way to fix that. They had never been physically intimate, but that didn't mean Bellamy hadn't offered a few casual and flirtatious remarks every now and then.

"Was it only the uniform that did it?" He said teasingly, picking up the drink as he looked at her, his words meant as a joke . . . but they weren't entirely in jest. They held an underlying tone of, suggestiveness as to whetehr there was something else that made her hot and bothered so that they could tend to it now. But he didn't exactly verbalize all that. Her next words caused that faint, flicker of a smile yet again. Damn she was good. Always able to make him forget when going through the hardest times in his life. "You're not going to make this easy, are you?" He said once again, his tone filled with teasing, his remark referencing the ability to buy her a drink.

He didn't mind though -- even if it was something he could use as an excuse to see her. He briefly glanced at the nuts before she brought up the fiasco that had happened earlier with the spoiled food. Part of him wished he had seen pink rabbits and spoken of brooms as oppose to his own trip from it: the bodies of all those he had killed. But fortunately, he was not dwelling on that. Gena was making it remarkably easy to focus on the humor of the situation . . . she had managed to find it without forcing him to slip back into that all consuming darkness. "They were spoiled," he began to tell her, looking at her, wanting to offer more than the laconic reply.

"I wasn't at the camp when it happened, but I heard plenty of stories about it," he said, forcing a smile, albeit, a very small one, but he was trying to focus on the positive. Focus on the good. After all, the spoiled food hadn't technically killed anyone. Had the Grounders wanted to attack, that would have been the prime moment to for they were all out of their damn minds -- literally. "These better have been tested," Bellamy teased before he popped one of the nuts into his mouth. "Otherwise I'll be the one running around and talking about squirrels." An attempt of a joke, though the jovial tone was somewhat lacking. Still. It was the closest he had been to make one since . . . everything had happened.

[Gena Martin]

“You’re talking to the barkeeper.” Gena pointed out. “I’m the mistress of drinks. They bow to me. Of course I’m going to make it hard for you to buy me a drink. You will have to outsmart the bartender first and that is not an easy thing to do, so buckle up, buddy, you’ll have to work very hard to get to buy me that drink.” She had every intention to make it hard on him. Even if it might just be for the happy fun of things and just to mess with him. She had the feeling that that was exactly what Bellamy needed now: The same casual talks and fun as they had on the Ark. And if it wasn’t what he needed, Bellamy Blake was not the type of guy to go for it. He was making it very clear if he liked something or not. So far there was no reason to stop.

“They’re not tested.” Gena replied. It sounded like a very funny story in a time where not everything was easy. The easy time seemed to be now, but now people needed to pick up the pieces of who they were and deal with what they had to do, a lot in Bellamys case as far as she knew. She wanted to help him, to hold him, to be there for him, but she needed him to be the one to want that, too. She couldn’t help if he didn’t want anyone in to help him, but at the very least she could distract him. “They’re not actually from the ground either, so they’re safe. They are left over contingent from the Ark, salvaged and boxed. It’ll be fun when we will have to use ground-nuts. I will prepare the bar for that and keep a special batch for you. I want to see you dance with imaginary unicorns!!”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The same faint smirk played on his features as she spoke of the challenge it would be to buy a drink for the bartender. He would have joked about liking a good challenge, but even he couldn't ignore the untrue statement -- despite it being said in a more playful nature given the context. "I'll find a way," he said with clear determination in his voice. "Something tells me it'll be worth it," he added on, an underlying tone of playfulness in his voice. It was getting easier and easier to distract himself from all other thought . . . and it wasn't the alcohol that was doing so.

He was getting more intoxicated from her company than anything else. She confirmed that they weren't tested and he would have paused had he not known that they were safe. He trusted her enough to at least know that. She futher explained that they were left from what came down with the Ark. Bellamy had only briefly looked at their food inventory. That job was more for another group.

He had other duties that took priority. "Good to know," he casually stated as he popped another one in his mouth. "Hey if I'm going to get a trip from nuts, then you damn well better join me." He was of course just joking . . . somewhat. "I would be interested to see what exactly you'll be dancing with," he said teasingly and . . . hell, was there even a bit of suggestiveness to his statement? He didn't even know anymore. He just took another gulp of his drink, not even remotely close to wanting to depart from her company.

[Gena Martin]

“Ah, no you won’t.” Gena said. Though she had no doubt that he would actually manage it, she would not let him have that satisfaction early. She would not make it easy for him at all. She had to be on the lookout in the next days. Now more than ever did she need to make sure he couldn’t buy her that drink. It sounded like a great challenge and a game that could keep on distracting him. It needed to be the game that could keep on distracting him, because he seemed to need it, even if it was just to keep his mind off of things, things Gena clearly didn’t understand yet, but she was willing to wait for an explanation.

“Fine.” Gena reached for the nuts and popped some into her mouth. If they were bad enough to induce hallucinations, she’d join him there. But she wondered what she would see. Would she see things that weren’t there or maybe he would turn into something else entirely. Maybe he would turn into a green goblin wanting to seduce her on the skin of a killed panther that they didn’t have in the canteen yet. There was no doubt that would change once everyone was sorted with warm clothes and blankets. Gena leaned forward, looking into his eyes with a grin. “I think you will turn into a blue or green goblin and you’ll seduce me on the fur or a white panther until I forget my name and think I’m a princess from old Rome. You will also say "I am Ragnar, wielder of the most magnificent magic snake".”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy listened to her explain a rather humorous image of waht she believed would happen during her trip. It was all in good fun of course and the detail of it made his lips flicker into a smile for a moment. His smirk became a little more evident, hearing about goblins, sedution, princesses from Roma, and a magnificent snake. "That's quite a vivid imagination," he told her, meaning it more as a compliment rather than an insult.

"If that's whats going to happen from a few bad nuts, then I gotta say I'm looking forward to it." His words were playful, teasing . . . but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't some truth to them. Perhaps not the detail of referring to certain things as snakes, or the clearly unrealistic aspects of it. Just the more believable one . . . seduction. Being with her. His words weren't exactly a proposition, but his mind was geared toward that. It shouldn't be though. He knew that much. She was his friend and he certainly didn't want to seem like he was taking advantage. And yet the thought was there; the desire was there.

Popping another nut into his mouth, he tried to change the conversation; tried to think of a topic shift before he acting on any impulse that would involve making his desires known. "You need any ingredients?" A random diversion, but it was focused on business. Strictly business. It was a safe subject, though he felt that any subject could be safe with her. "A few of us are going out tomorrow to start mapping the surrounding area. People reported seeing some fruits growing nearby so we're going to check it out." See if they could gather anything. While his offer was there, he also knew it was just out of the necessity to talk about something that didn't lead his mind to . . . where it was currently daring to go.

[Gena Martin]

Gena moved. She pulled her legs up so she could rest her chin on her knee, still looking at Bellamy. There it was, the smile she had been looking for. Thank god it could still break out. She had hoped it was still there, buried somewhere deep, now she knew it was there and she loved every second of it. With what happened in Mount Weather over and seeing the smile again, Gena made a mental note to do her best and try to find that smile in him again and again and again, because this was the status quo she liked about him: Still having that light in him to smile.

She noticed it the moment he did it. They were getting to bad territory, so she needed to steer clear of that and followed his lead to the new topic, taking that as if it was the most natural thing to do and really it was, in so many ways it was natural for her and him to do that. Back on the Ark he had avoided talking about his mother sometimes, with right, too. It was better for her to follow his lead. “I don’t know. I know the berries I used in your drink there actually grow almost inside the camp. They grow just behind the station by the little lake. I don’t know much about the other plants. I just use them. You know how useless I was in botany. I think we’re running out of this strange root and this herb, mint, I think. I don’t know if you’ll find them out there, though. I couldn’t. As long as it’s edible, It will be great. Actually” Gena stopped mid- thought. “There is something you can bring back, if you want: Flowers. The place looks so sterile and boring. We’re on the ground, we can have flowers inside.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy listened attentively, hanging on to the current topic of conversation. The safe one. The one that kept things amicable between them; at the level of friends. He valued her far too much to dismiss that, despite his desire to further explore their dynamic. It was that same pull that drew him to her, that tempted him to that wanted exploration between them. Like a moth to a flame. "You want me to pick flowers?" He asked sarcastically, though there was an evident tone of playfulness in his question. "I've never picked flowers for a woman before." Another tease, but the statement held truth.

He wasn't one who showered women with gifts; who picked flowers and tried to sweep them off their feet. And yet . . . he felt like he could for her. He felt like he wanted to for her. What was that compulsion? He'd never experienced it before. The time it took to get them to this point of comfort . . . what if he jeapordized all that for the want f something more? No. He couldn't. Could he? Would he? "Tell you what, how about tomorrow afternoon I take you myself to find flowers." There were a few patches not far from the camp, within the zone of safety. "And that way if we come across any mint or edible herbs, we can grab those too." Which they might. There was a great deal of wild growing vegetation in the vicinity. Really, he was just wanting to spend some time with her. Away from everyone else. Which was precisely what had brought him here tonight after closing as well. He may not trust himself around her and he may screw this all up . . . but his selfishness made him believe it was worth it. If only to be with her.

[Gena Martin]

“Not pick them, no.” Gena said. She would love that, too, of course. But she didn’t want them to be picked. “It would be a lot better if you brought them with their roots.” Genna pointed out. She could keep them in pots around the place and they might survive the winter, hopefully in the warmth that the canteen might provide. With people around, the warmth should settle in and if it didn’t there was no loss. Then the winter would have made them wilt and hibernate anyway. 

Gena took another sip from her drink, when Bellamy apparently had an idea about how that should be done. He wanted to take her out with him. She didn’t know if that was such a good idea. Then again he had protected the kids, maybe she should go, he could protect her. He knew the weapon, he knew the terrain, maybe it was a good idea. Maybe it would be fun to go out with him. Who should attack them? Gena reached out for his hand, gently patting his hand. “Okay. You know this place far better than I do:” she pointed out. “I trust you. But you do know I have not the faintest clue about herbs. I know mint and how to use stuff, but which one is which? Not a chance. You know I’m just a cook, right?” She asked him. “Maybe we could go out after you come back, though? Not too far, just for a little walk, see the Ground a bit?” Maybe they would find a place for them not too far, where he could feel comfortable and at peace despite being outside, a place not loaded with bad memories.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She spoke of how she didn't want them picked, but with the roots. "Which still involves picking them," he stated. Just with a different technique. It only meant that one did not break the stem, but rather, hold it from the bottom and pull at an angle that would bring the roots up with it. He'd seen it done enough times by someone who had experience with such things. Hell he had even tried it a couple of times. Either way, the flowers would have to be picked in order to get them transferred here. He gave a bit of a nod when she patted his hand, the warmth of her touch traveling through his entire body even if he made no show of it.

"Only one way to learn," he encouraged. "Though I'm not the best person to ask about that stuff. Monty Green was our go to guy who dealt with all this." The one who could determine what was edible and what wasn't. Now, there was a much larger group of people who could do that, but Monty was the one Bellamy trusted first and foremost with such things. The delinquents all held a special place in his heart for they had all gone through things that no one else could understand. That initial fear of coming to the ground, and quickly realizing they were not alone . . . and what that company entailed. Pushing those thoughts from surfacing, Bellamy focused on the topic at hand.

"Sounds good." He would be heading out with the team early in the morning, so he would be back by afternoon at the latest. Then, they could set out. Something to look forward to for the day. "Who knows. Maybe you'll find things that'll inspire a few new drinks," he suggested with a bit of a smile, raising his cup to down the last bit of the beverage, attempting to keep the conversation going. He wasn't quite ready to leave yet and though he knew he could very well be keeping her here at his inconvenience . . . well, he hoped he was perceptive enough to pick up on any body language or tone of voice that indicated she wanted to leave.

[Gena Martin]

“Monty” Gena began, clearly trying to fit a face to that name. She was still learning all those kids names. Some stuck more than others, for various reasons. Raven for example stuck, because they got along rather easily. Then there was this Nathan, who was easy going and a bit of a gentleman. Everyone else seemed to call him Miller though. She had an idea who Monty was, though. “He’s the skinny kid with the sad look, trying to smile for the others?” It had to be him. She remembered someone calling him Monty as well. And since he hung around with mostly girl and the other male was Nathan, it had to be him. “He seems like a good kid.” He really seemed like a good kid, very mindful of the others, getting them drinks, even though he obviously had issues himself. It reminded her a bit of Bellamy as well. He was putting on a bit of a façade for the others as well.

“I’ll just use you as guinea pig for those drinks tomorrow evening then.” If he agreed, but something told her that this might just easily become a routine for them again. He seemed to need it, to need someone to just be there, to listen and not as questions that might run too deep. She could be that, Gena knew him well enough to know she could adjust to what he needed, whatever it was. Something made her want to ready some food for him as well, right now actually. “So, what do you say: I make us a small snack? I could use a bite after my shift. An actual snack. You haven’t gotten my cooking in quite a while after all and I never heard you complain. Now is your chance, though: complain about my cooking. I’m not holding a spoon to throw after you yet.” Not that she would.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Gena Martin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Her description of Monty was pretty bang on. Completely accurate. The one who smiled for others. Bellamy and he and bonded this past little while. Ever since Mount Weather. In a way, both he and Monty had lost their best friends. Bellamy had lost Clarke. Monty had lost Jasper. And only he and Monty understood what the other was going through with what they had done. He had a deep respect for him. He didn't deserve the burden of what happened, but he also knew he couldn't expect Monty to exempt himself from it. He wasn't that kind of person. And it only deepened his respect for him.

Though it made him also wish that he hadn't been part of that decision. That could be free from how it haunted a person. "He is," Bellamy agreed in a quiet voice. He was indeed a good kid. A very good kid. "Smart too," Bellamy added on. "Guy's a genius. He helped us figure out what was edible and what wasn't as far as plants were concerned when we first landed." When they hadn't been able to hunt animals. And even after that, Monty's expertise had allowed them to branch out when it came to the food that was available. She then spoke of tomorrow, of using him as a guinea pig and he had to admit . . . the thought made him give off a small smile. A smile that only remained and even slightly grew as she continued on, speaking about her cooking.

"Never had to complain," he told her truthfully. "Your cooking is pretty damn good." And it was. "Though guess now we'll find out if you were just sneaking food from the canteen, or if you were actually making it," he teased her. It didn't make a difference. It was more so the company that he enjoyed rather than the food. Besides, he was never a picky eater. He couldn't be with their status and the limited food they had available since their rations were only for two, and they had Octavia. "What culinary delight do you have in mind?" He asked, rather surprised at how the playful teasing came out with such ease . . . but he didn't want to question it nor over think it. It was easy not to over think anything in her presence. It had an immediate relaxing effect on him. One that he found himself already addicted to . . . just as he had been on the Ark.

[Gena Martin]

She wasn’t surprised about that. She heard he was originally from farm. A lot of kids from farm learned about edible and not edible plants on earth early. Gena did so, too, though she focused more on other stuff as well, like meat, protein, spices, Gena always loved the spices and the almost art like form of putting them together to give something a great taste. Her father was an artist at that and she always aspired to become like that. It never worked. “Not surprised at all.” Why would she be. With Bellamy around, those kids have a better chance of survival, due to his logical and protective nature – okay maybe she was heavily biased due to her actually liking him.

“Hey!” Gena protested. She laughed at it, though. It was a tease. It had to be a tease, because he knew what she was working as in the canteen. Sneaking something from there was still meaning it was her doing as she cooked at least a third of the meals during her shifts. She was a decent cook. She was nowhere near as good as her dad, but she had plenty of years to learn ahead of her. “I was thinking… crunchy bread with a bit of the remaining rabbit.” That was kind of all that they had left. Oh and a bit of salad, but she could use that on there, so that was great. Gena got up to get behind the counter again. Heating the thing she started on the rabbit as it would take longer. She didn’t want to waste it as it was fresh. Gena grinned. “Sooo any preferences in terms of fresh ground food?”

Bellamy Blake