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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 9, 2016 1:04:11 GMT
 Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy watched Jackson as he got to his feet, though Bellamy didn't move toward him. The entire heat of this argument was unfamiliar. Both of them were angry. Both speaking in tones they had never used with each other. "It's different," he snapped, defensive of his perspective. "It was Clarke." As if that explained everything. "And she was in danger, because of me. Because they wanted me!" And if something happened to her, Bellamy would have to live with that guilt knowing she was killed because of him.
Just like so many others were. In Jackson's case, he didn't know the Grounder. She hadn't been endangered because of him. It was different and yet the same. But instead of debating that fact, Jackson's next words immediately caught Bellamy's attention. "I was pretty sure I wouldn't die." Bellamy scoffed at the statement. "Pretty sure," he repeated sarcastically, clear disapproval in his voice. And the anger just kept coming out. "Is that why you told me you loved me right before? Why you kissed me? Don't give me that crap! You didn't know if you were going to live through it.
You couldn't damn well promise me that you weren't going to die. And I had to live with that fear. Hell, you didn't even know the next few days what was going to happen to you!" When Jackson had been vomiting non stop, weakened by what he did. Bellamy wasn't exaggerating when he said he'd been in fear every second of that. "Big damn congratulations on being right. Get in your I told you so's cause who knows what'll happen next time." Sarcasm. Bitter sarcasm. Because whether Jackson was right or not, didn't change the fact that he had still done it. And that they hadn't known at the time whether he would be alright.
Bellamy clenched his jaw once more when Jackson spoke of how he knew he was there to keep him safe. The words triggering back to all the times people had trusted Bellamy to keep them safe. His mother. The delinquents. The citizens of Mount Weather. Gena. So many people . . . and Bellamy had failed each and every one of them. Jackson's words brought up that reminder, strengthening the realization of how close her had been to failing someone else.
"I didn't keep you safe," he began to say, his tone holding a strong underlying anger . . . once again, stemmed from the hurt and pain of the people he had lost in his past. "I can't keep anyone safe!" His failures resulted in death. And he had told Jackson of that; the fear of losing people he loved. "I helped put that needle in your arm and watched you do it!" Tears welled in his eyes, knowing his voice was getting slightly louder and significantly more emotional.
"That's not keeping you safe! That's not protecting you! And had I lost you . . . your blood would be on my hands for letting you do something so damn stupid!" But it didn't matter. The burden of guilt wasn't easy to understand. "You wouldn't have blamed yourself if something more serious happened when I did what I did. But I would have if you died. Because I let you do it. I stood there, terrified but did nothing.
So don't stand there and tell me you trusted me to keep you safe. I didn't. And I know now that I can't." Because Bellamy was fairly certain he would do this again if the situation presented itself. And that just added to the younger male's fear. "At least I promised you I would be more careful." But Jackson couldn't give him the same guarantee that he would not do this again . . . and Bellamy didn't even want to ask, afraid that he already knew the answer. |
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 23:59:06 GMT
whatever THE HELL WE WANT "Bellamy... you came back for me."
The words made his heart ache, made the guilt so strong within him. He would have, had he known. He would never have left Mount Weather if he'd had even an inkling of a feeling that she was alive. But she had been . . . disposed of. The mere term in his mind making him inwardly cringe. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he said in a low voice, unsure if she even heard him because she soon faded. He could tell by the way her head fell and of course her eyes closing. His fingers returned to her neck, feeling for the weakened pulse. Relief once more, that he didn't find her just to lose her again. That she was still alive, and he wasn't going to waste another second. He scooped her up in his arms, carrying her all the way back to camp, keeping her close to him, and not stopping until he walked through the gates of Arkadia.
He called for medical help, making his way to the designated area and setting her down on one of the tables. He briefed those who were helping, giving all that he knew, which wasn't much. They had helped the others who had been drilled . . . but Fox had been left out there much longer. She had already suffered major blood loss. Bellamy refused to stray from her side. Even while they worked, he stood there, making sure he didn't get in the way but ready to help with whatever they may ask of him. He felt responsible for Fox, just like the others. But right now, Fox was his priority. They had lost too many people and he couldn't even begin to process the notion that he had found her, only to bring her here to die. No. That couldn't happen. When they did what they could, telling him that it was now a waiting game to see if she would wake up . . . Bellamy's stubborn refusal to leave her remained in his mind. He pulled up a chair and sat by her side. Waiting. Watching her. Not wanting her to be alone, and whether she could hear him or not, he spoke.
"I told all of you at the dropship, that you were warriors. Fighters." He had worked to empower them, to build their confidence, to make them feel worthy and more than 'expendable' . . . more than worthless lives sent down to die. Bellamy had truly believed those words, and continued to do so. "So don't stop fighting now, Fox." He moved his hand to rest on top of hers. "Don't you dare stop fighting." This world had a way of exhausting them . . . constantly needing to survive rather than being allowed to just live. But he needed her to live. He needed her to fight. To survive this, and all else. Yet all he could do, was offer the words, and keep his hand on hers. Reassurance, that she was not alone. Not anymore.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 23:46:18 GMT
 Tag: @severitysoftly forgiveness IS HARD FOR US Jackson asked him a question that didn't have a clear answer. Bellamy had not taken the chip. He was at Arkadia, same as the others and thus, granted the opportunity to take it . . . but he hadn't. Yet his reasons were different. He wasn't strong for not taking it. It made him no more human, no better than anyone else. His head turned back to look ahead of him, jaw clenched as he tried to control his emotions. Which, was never really a strong suit. Especially considering he had already cried and given in to the vulnerability that he always felt around Jackson. And a safety at the same time. A comfort. It was what made him answer his question as honestly as he could.
Even if it was incredibly difficult to admit. He had meant what he said earlier, in that he feared Jackson's reactions to learning the truth about him. All the truths. "I couldn't," he began, his voice low. Forcing the words out, because Jackson deserved the truth. "I've . . . done so many things. The blood of almost a thousand people on my hands." The culling. Mount Weather. The delinquents they lost. Gena. The others lost in the explosion. His mother. So many people.
He took a deep breath, his mind thinking back to what the hallucination of Jaha had told him. Bellamy had begged for death, and Jaha had said that was too easy; that he was to live, breathe, suffer. And that was what Bellamy did. What he would continue to do. "Enduring this world. . . living, that's my punishment." Death was swift. Quick. Easy. A release from ones pain and misery. "And I don't deserve to be released of that. Not after everything I've done." So he hadn't taken the chip. Because it would end the suffering and his self hatred was stronger than the temptation to take the chip. "Why did you take it?" He inquired.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 23:31:10 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT As Bellamy cleared the table, Jackson responded to him, saying that he was pissed at him, and then questioning what he should have done; questioning whether he should have let her die. "You're damn right I'm pissed," Bellamy stated, standing by the where he left the plates as he turned to face Jackson. He knew he wasn't pissed though; that wasn't the right word. Because underneath that surface of anger, was hurt. Fear. The root causes of how he felt now. "What if you had died?" He asked, only somewhat rhetorically. He was alive now, but Bellamy couldn't ignore the what if scenario. "Every second of every day, I was scared that I would lose you. But you didn't seem to give a shit about that when you were willing to sacrifice your life to save her." Bellamy knew it was selfish.
But being in this entire relationship was selfish of him. To give himself pleasure and joy in being with someone. In loving someone, or letting them love him. "Everything you said about us, about being more careful doesn't seem to apply to you!" His tone was angry, pissed, as they had already established. And in his over emotional state, he wasn't holding back. "Apparently, it only matters when you're the one hurting. When you're the one scared to lose someone. Cause if you cared about that at all, you wouldn't have done it." Or at least not had done it as quickly as he did. It was immediate, the doctor in him taking over. While Bellamy loved that about Jackson, he couldn't help but think of losing him; of where that would leave him. Ultimately, with nothing and no one. He couldn't lose anyone else he loved. He wouldn't survive another loss.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 11:02:39 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly forgiveness IS HARD FOR US Even though ALIE wasn't able to force anyone to take the chip, she had her ways of being convincing. Often preying on the bonds and ties that people had to each other. Raven cutting her wrists to force Abby for instance. But even on the flip side . . . Bellamy could understand why people had taken it. He looked forward again, knowing that nothing he said would assuage his guilt. He was blaming himself and while Bellamy didn't think he should . . . words were just words. The younger male couldn't alter how he felt about it, no matter how much he wished he could.
"You're neither," he told him, feeling the need to defend Jackson when he called himself stupid and selfish. "I don't blame you for taking the chip," he added on. He could understand why people did it. Everyone had their own reasons but gist of it was the same. The source was the same. Pain. Suffering. Torment. They wanted it to end. They wanted it to stop. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "This world has a tendency to make us to not feel human. Or maybe, too human." Not human in the misdeeds they did; too human in the pain that plagued them. Perhaps the latter was more application in this case. "ALIE knew that. She preyed on everyone for that. And . . . " He paused, turning back to Jackson. He reached out, putting his hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"If there was a way out of it. A way to make it stop, then how can we blame anyone for taking it?" He didn't blame Raven, or Jasper, or Jackson, or anyone else who had initially taken that chip without the same coercion as others. They were hurting. All of them. "You're human Jackson. There's only so much pain a person can take. And I wish . . . you weren't feeling more of it now." He wished he could do something. But he couldn't. He knew that. He was the last person who had a right to try and help anyone, because he often made things worse. All he could do now was express to his friend that he was here. Without judgment, without blame. And being whatever Jackson needed of him.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 10:51:11 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT The weather. Oh god. Is that what things had really come down to? And yet it sounded more as if Jackson was just trying to point out the awkwardness, rather than grasp at straws for conversation. Bellamy noticed him stop eating, glancing at how much he had taken. At least half of his food, which was good. Even a couple meals a day, whether half portions or not, was better than what he had been taking before . . . which was nothing. Bellamy took another bite of his food before his eyes met his partner's.
"Is that really what you want to talk about?" He asked him, opening up the floor, trying to see if Jackson was ready for this conversation. Bellamy had had put his personal feelings aside for the betterment of the situation -- wasn't the first time. Because he had wanted to take care of Jackson rather than force what he assumed was going to be an intense conversation about the event that led up to his condition. "If so, then yeah. The weather is pretty damn nice," he finished, sarcasm in his tone, clearly holding no interest in actually discussing the weather. He rose to his feet when he finished his food, reaching for Jackson's plate. "You done?" He questioned, waiting for him to answer before taking it.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 2:11:13 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly forgiveness IS HARD FOR US Bellamy felt a relief in Jackson's words. Maybe. Probably. Indication that he felt it too. Whatever this incredible connection was between them. Whatever it was that kept drawing them to each other, after both of them knew that neither of them could be in a relationship. Bittersweet. And maybe it was something that neither of them would ever truly know. For now however, he focused on Jackson's words as he began to answer his question. Bellamy wanted to immediately protest, telling him that he did deserve it. But he held back, waiting for the doctor to finish. He said he did terrible things, that he manipulated Abby. Bellamy knew that in itself was incredibly difficult for Jackson to deal with, considering how close he was to Abby.
And if Raven was involved . . . well, Bellamy could understand the difficulty in coping with that. Even though he wished Jackson wouldn't blame himself. He didn't deserve that. "ALIE made that happen," Bellamy said in a low voice when Jackson had finished talking. He turned his body a little more so that he was facing Jackson. "Hey," he began in a continued low voice, a word meant to be reassuring though was fairly certain he lacked the ability to comfort anyone at this point.
"It wasn't you." It was ALIE. Bellamy knew that when he had seen what Raven was doing to herself. When he had seen what Abby did. When he had seen Kane's eyes while his hands were wrapped around his throat. "The fact that you feel this way now, regret, guilt . . . proves that." Because if it was even remotely him, then he wouldn't feel this way. "I can't imagine what it's like." His words holding emotion, pain for what his friend was enduring. "But I can tell you that what happened, wasn't your fault." But he knew that if he couldn't accept Jackson's words that exempt him from blame, then Jackson probably couldn't accept his either.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 1:59:41 GMT
Tag: @jasper420 whatever THE HELL WE WANT Bellamy hadn't been sure as to whether Jasper was going to withdraw or continue to suck him . . . but it didn't take long for his unspoken question to be answered. He lifted his head a little to watch Jasper work him, before the intensity of it was too much to keep his head up. He left it fall back against the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as he came, a groan of pleasure escaping him as he filled Jasper's mouth. He slowly opened his eyes, heavy lids from the haze of his orgasm. He was glad he did, because there was something incredibly attractive about watching Jasper swish around the liquid in his mouth before fully swallowing, and collapsing onto the bed next to him.
Bellamy's gaze raised to the ceiling of his tent for a moment, before a smirk formed on his face from Jasper's words, claiming that this was fun. He turned his head toward the younger male, the expression still on his face. "Guess there's a first time for everything," he stated. His words could hold double meaning. The first, being in terms of them . . . but also, in regards to what Jasper had done here in general. And well, what Bellamy had done to him. "Anything else you wanted to try?" He offered, keeping in mind the promise to stay at his pace, but putting it out there should Jasper be curious about engaging in anything else . . . or having something done to him. Bellamy's words weren't meant as dismissive, since quite frankly, he enjoyed the contact that came after taking part in such acts. Holding the other, touching then, laying together where circumstances allowed them to.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 1:46:25 GMT
  Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Damn she felt amazing. Feeling her muscles tighten and the way her body jolted a little . . . his efforts were soon rewarded with a taste. A flood of her orgasm, pouring into his mouth where he drank in her taste, quenching a thirst for her that he hadn't even been aware he had. His tongue continued to stroke her, caress her, practically clean her off as he glided it along her inner walls and then the skin of her inner thigh, moist with the liquid proof of her enjoyment. The way she said his name made his heart beat a little harder in his chest. A tone he had never heard her use before; and one he damn well wanted to hear her use again. Taking in a deep breath, he finally pulled his mouth away from her center, dragging his lips over her body, her stomach, her chest, up the front of her neck until his head was aligned with hers once more.
His lips hovered over hers for a few brief seconds before closing the distance, deeply kissing her, allowing her to taste herself on his still moist lips. His hand fell down to her leg, rubbing along her bare thigh just to touch her in every possible way, memorizing the feel of her soft skin and form of her well toned body. Easing out of the kiss he spoke against her lips. "Did I tire you out already?" He asked her, a clear playful tease in his words as he lightly nipped her lip, before kissing along her cheek. He may not have found his own release yet, but that didn't mean he couldn't wait for her to just simply bask in the euphoric aftermath. Besides, he quite liked seeing the expression on her face. Seeing that ecstatic glow that followed her orgasm. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 1:35:08 GMT
Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT Crunchy nuts. Why did that seem so enticing? Why was he watching her eat them so intently? Why did he suddenly want some of his own? He followed her actions, popping one in his mouth, though not taking his eyes off of Harper for a single moment. "Nice and hard," he added on, offering more innuendos as he swallowed them down with the drink. The nuts were far too bland, but who were they to complain about food. He smiled when Harper confirmed that people called her Harp. "Maybe you should learn then," he suggested. He turned around to look at the crowd for a moment.
"Anyone here got a Harp?!" He questioned, or announced. A few heads turned but were clearly ignoring him. Bellamy's face fell with disappointment, turning back to face Harper once more. "Unhelpful bastards," he grumbled, finishing his drink . . . as if it was able to suddenly uplift his mood once more. Though, maybe it was her question that did that. About bells. OH! Right! Because Bell, and bell! The realization made him chuckle.
"I could," he said confidently. "If I had a bell to ring," he added. He leaned toward Harper, speaking in a low voice as if to share a grand secret with her. "I'm not gonna ask those people again. They didn't even offer a Harp." Drawing back with a shrug, he took another sip, wishing that this bellicious beverage would never end. "We can make our own bell though," he suggested, a notion suddenly coming to him. He titled his head toward her. "Pull a lock," of his curly hair. Not out of course, but just a tug.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 1:18:27 GMT
Tag: @harpermcintyre whatever THE HELL WE WANT If it was ever possible for time to stop, this would be the moment. That seemingly impossible moment, where all else ceased to exist. With the exception of the three of them. Because it was not just Harper anymore. There was a life growing inside of her. A life that she and Bellamy had created, together. All he could do in this moment was wait. Wait for her answer. Fear it. For with a single response, she could deliver the final blow that would send him to the ground . . . without even laying a finger on him. Physical pain never hurt as much as emotional pain.
It was why Bellamy could take it. The punches. The kicks. The strikes. But when it came to his emotions . . . he was far more delicate than he could ever admit. People saw it he supposed. And yet, it didn't matter. It didn't stop them from loathing him. Or detesting him. So he waited, and as if his emotions hadn't already been just on the surface . . . Harper's response caused that unshed tear to roll down his cheek. With those few words, she had practically breathed life into him. Giving him a new sense of purpose. A new hope. An emphatic love. A devotion. So many things, and he couldn't identify a singular emotion.
There was a flurry of them, overwhelming him. He saw that she too was crying, yet the relief of her words stilled him. Paralyzed him in a way that nothing ever had before. "Thank you," he breathed, not even entirely aware that he had said the words. But there was gratitude. The utmost appreciation because . . . she was giving him this. A right he would never take for granted. A life that would mean so much more than his own. He sniffed a little, trying to regain his composure. Trying to figure out where to go from here; what the next step was.
"Do you want to go somewhere and talk?" About everything. About what they were going to do. How they were going to do this. He needed a focus. A direction. Harper, and their unborn child, was his priority. Which prompted his next inquiry. "Or would you prefer to rest?" An alternative, in the event that she didn't wish to speak to him further about this. He couldn't blame her for that. She had told him right now, and that was more than Bellamy could have ever hoped for. More than he deserved.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 1:01:39 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Once Jackson was seated, Bellamy sat down as well, starting to eat, making sure his partner was eating enough as well. "No," he answered simply in response to Jackson's question. "Things were pretty uneventful while we were gone." Which was good. Because what happened there had more than made up for it. "Everyone was just asking how you were. Wondering about your recovery. Guess some of them would have seen for themselves today." Since Jackson had been working in medical. Apparently, the Grounder he had saved would make a full recovery, but Bellamy figured Jackson already knew that. The risk he had taken to save her not done in vain.
Though it didn't make a difference to Bellamy. Because what mattered, was that Jackson still took the risk. And that was why he couldn't just pretend like everything was alright. That was why he couldn't just celebrate with Jackson that he was feeling well enough to kiss him, to tease him, to maybe even take things to a more physical level that they had not been able to for a week. But if there was one thing that Bellamy was . . . it was emotional. And he couldn't hide them. He couldn't pretend like everything was fine. So he just ate his food, biting back from saying anything too bitter or sarcastic.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 0:54:47 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly forgiveness IS HARD FOR US During the embrace, Bellamy felt Jackson's hand move to the back of his head, further encouraging his actions. But then, he felt the male shift. Bellamy half expected him to pull away, but what he did next surprised him . . . in the best way possible. He felt the softness of Jackson's lips against his own. It made everything slow down. As if the darkness in the world ceased to exist for those few moments they were locked together. Bellamy was surprised; that anyone would want to touch him in a way that wasn't violent.
That anyone would want to be gentle or intimate with him. And he found himself craving it. The hug, the touch of their skin, the kiss. It wasn't just anyone, but Jackson that was offering him this comfort. Which made it all the stronger. Bellamy's lips moved against Jackson's in return. Slowly. Tenderly. It was void of that heated passion that often led to more. But somehow, this kiss, made everything else more intimate than ever before., Perhaps it was the build up. Perhaps it was the conversation. Perhaps it was the acknowledgment that they had both seen each other. Really, seen each other.
Whatever the reason, it flooded Bellamy's heart, consuming every fiber of his being and when Jackson pulled away, placing distance between them . . . it almost felt physically painful. Bellamy slowly opened his eyes, swallowing, trying to regain himself. Trying to pull himself together. He moved to lean against the Rover, telling him he shouldn't be thanking him. Before attempting to offer him comfort in that the blame was placed on the people who prevented him from helping.
Bellamy wished he could believe it. He wished he could tell him everything that happened. But . . . Bellamy had deserved every strike. Every punch. Every kick. And he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else looking at him like he deserved it, like all the others had. Though . . . deep down, he knew Jackson never would. And maybe that was the real reason that prevented him from telling him. Because he didn't deserve that compassion. Bellamy moved to lean against the Rover, next to Jackson, looking at the space in front of him as he folded his arms across his chest. "Timing, circumstance . . . nothing ever seems to be on our side." Bellamy slowly turned his head to look at Jackson, wanting him to know this.
"But, we really could have been something together. Something pretty damn incredible." The words were bittersweet. An admittance, that Bellamy could see himself with someone like Jackson. With all the medic made him feel, all that he caused to stir within him. And yet . . . it was heartbreaking because it would seem they never would have their chance to actually be more than what they were. And it was nearly devastating to Bellamy. Jackson might not even feel the same way, but Bellamy felt the words had to be said, regardless. "Why shouldn't I thank you?" He asked, an opening for Jackson to share his own burdens, if he wanted to. If he was able to. If he felt it would help at all. Bellamy wanted to be there for him, just as Jackson was always there for Bellamy.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 8, 2016 0:21:54 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly whatever THE HELL WE WANT Jackson's initial statement of having eaten breakfast was telling enough. He went on to say that he got them dinner . . . which meant he hadn't eaten lunch. Bellamy knew that Jackson's appetite was coming back slowly, so as long as he kept the meal he did have done, he supposed that was something. Hopefully his appetite would fully return once he was completely recovered. "Guess you skipping lunch is nothing new," he teased, knowing that he had a tendency to do that when he got busy with work. He then assured him that he had eased into it, but that he was ready to be useful, that it had been a week. That still didn't seem long enough considering how ill he had been. But Bellamy also hoped that Abby wouldn't make him work if she knew he truly wasn't capable.
The younger male stilled when Jackson teased him and kissed his jaw. Bellamy's eyes remained open, knowing how easy it would be to lose himself in this moment. To kiss him passionately, skip dinner, and sate another appetite. But he didn't. Not this time. He leaned into Jackson's touch a little, just for a moment, before breaking himself out of the moment. "Yeah well, I wasn't in as bad of a condition as you were," he stated, turning his head and walking a few steps toward the table. Not trusting himself to keep from falling back into things as if nothing had happened. As if there was nothing to talk about. "Come on," he said, pulling out the chair for Jackson to sit before moving to the other side of the table. "If you insist on working tomorrow, then you're gonna need your strength." Though Bellamy still hoped he wouldn't be working the full day.
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Post by Bellamy Blake on Sept 7, 2016 12:12:47 GMT
Tag: @severitysoftly forgiveness IS HARD FOR US Bellamy felt the way that Jackson's arms tightened around him, the hesitation to ever let going increasing in the leader of the faction. He felt as if he needed this. Needed him. Not in the romantic way necessarily, but in a way that made him want to hold on to anyone who didn't see him as a monster. Even though they should. Even though he didn't deserve to be seen as a person, but a creature who constantly created chaos and death. His words slowly absorbed into Bellamy, taking in the meaning of each other. Had his face not been nestled against Jackson's neck, Bellamy was certain that more tears would have fallen.
He helped him. He had been an outlet for him. Bellamy was used to that, but in a different way. He'd once been an outlet for Raven. An outlet for Clarke. Hell, an outlet for Octavia. All circumstances had been different, being what they needed him to be. But with Jackson . . . it had never felt so one sided. Jackson had always offered comfort to him, whether he knew it or not. That was what made Bellamy so desperate to salvage this. To salvage them. To still selfishly have him in his life. Bellamy disagreed though. He didn't deserve the understanding on compassion he greedily took from the medic.
But he wasn't going to tell him that. He couldn't tell him that he didn't deserve it. This was someone -- one of the few -- who saw him as a human. Saw him as more than a punching bag, more than a failure. More than . . . what so many others seemed to see him as. "You've seen me too," he told him, creating an inch of a distance between his face and neck just so his words were audible. He wanted him to know that. Jackson said that he would like to get to know him better, and he wanted Jackson to be aware that he knew him better than most others did.
"You've been there for me. During some of the hardest times in my life." After he got his mother floated and Octavia arrested, after Mount Weather. And of course, now. He slowly drew his head back to look at him, his eyes moist with tears. "Thank you." For not looking at him like a monster. For not giving up on him. His words spoken with sincerity, filled with emotion. Gratitude. So many other things he couldn't quite classify. He knew that with each of his actions, he grew uglier, the marks on his face proving it. But Jackson never seemed phased by it. Bellamy could no longer resist, he leaned forward, placing a light kiss on Jackson's cheek. While it wasn't heated, it was filled with emotional.
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