Heaven Can't Wait - Chapter 6
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Chapter Six - A Little Sidetracked
David and Miller haul Bellamy to his feet. He feels faint but manages to stay upright. David falls back to give Abby a report while Miller walks next to him in his underwear, still wiping at his skin. “God this burns.”
Yeah, it does. Like a sonofabitch. He squeezes the tiny body in his arms. He’s overwhelmed with worry when she doesn’t respond. He can feel her shallow breaths against his chest, but she’s not moving. Not sucking her thumb. Not pulling at his hair. When did that become comforting?
Abby catches up with them as they get to Medbay. “Over there,” she says, pointing at an exam table.
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Miller hops up on another one. Abby ignores him, following Bellamy. He tries to put the girl down, but she finally comes to life, clinging to him-nails digging into his already raw neck. He grits his teeth. “Come on, kid, we’re not going to hurt you.” His words come out clipped with an edge on them that he hadn’t intended. She starts to cry. No, don’t cry. Please don’t cry. Shit.
“It’s okay,” says Abby, brushing the girl’s hair from her face. “We’ll take it slow.”
The girl turns away with a whimper. “Don’t be scared,” Bellamy tells her. “Remember, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He rocks her gently until she stops crying with a loud sniffle, wiping her nose on his shirt again. She shifts her head to see Abby out of the corner of her eye. “That’s my girl,” he whispers with a swell of pride. Show them you’re stronger than you look.
Abby smiles. “Hey, sweetheart. Aren’t you a pretty thing. Can you let me look at you?”
There must be something universally soothing about a mother’s voice because she starts to relax. Bellamy sighs in relief when her hands drop from his neck.
Abby holds out a small device. “This is a light. See?” She flips is off then on, the light bouncing off the metal table. “I’m just going to shine it in your eyes real quick, okay?” The girl doesn’t move and only jerks away slightly when the light moves across her face. “Good girl.”
She continues to track the light intently as Abby tries to see more of her face and body. Taking it from Abby, Bellamy waves it at the girl. “Hey, you want this? You gotta sit up like a big girl, okay? Then you can play with it.” He knows she doesn’t understand, but she’s fascinated by the light. She leans away from him as he moves it towards the table, setting it down just out of her reach.
Everyone holds their breaths, waiting. They miss the annoyed look she gives him. She hasn’t forgotten this game-it makes Bellamy smile. Curiosity gets the better of her, though. Slowly, she releases Bellamy and crawls onto the table. Abby gives him a grateful smile. Her approval warms his cheeks and lightens his heart more than he’d ever admit.
“What’s going on?” Clarke rushes into the room. “I heard someone got caught out in the rain.” She stops short when she sees Miller and Bellamy. A little gasp catches in her throat. He must look as bad he feels. “What happened?”
“Bellamy’s old and slow, that’s what happened,” Miller says with a snort.
Bellamy gives him a withering look. “We got a little sidetracked.” He nods at the table he’s leaning against where Abby is attempting to examine the girl’s ears while she plays with the light, flicking it on and off into her own eyes.
Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, wow.”
“That about covers it. We found her just wandering around. She almost became lunch.”
“It didn’t happen to be a big cat?”
He cocks an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, why?”
She turns him around and pokes his shoulder.
“Ow.” He looks back at four tears in his shirt.
Clarke takes in the rest of him with a grimace.
“That bad?”
She shakes her head, but the pale expression on her face says otherwise. He takes his first hard look at his body. His arms are pock-marked with angry welts and oozing sores. His pant legs are dotted with red-rimmed holes. He swallows hard.
Clarke’s hands tremble as she fumbles to unroll some gauze. Bellamy stills them. “Hey, I’m okay. Really.”
“No, you’re not.” Anger flashes in her eyes. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Act like your suffering isn’t worth the same as everyone else’s. Like you deserve it.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that because she can read him like an open book sometimes. When he doesn’t answer, she slides her hands free with a frustrated sigh. “Sit,” she orders.
He obediently hops onto the table and studies Clarke as she cleans the wounds on his face. She works as she always does-careful and focused. Her movements are precise but gentle. Tender. It’s not that he doesn’t want to believe her. He really does, if for no other reason than to make her happy, but he can’t see it. His atrocities-the pain he’s caused-outweigh anything he’s feeling. He does deserve this. There aren’t words to explain the conflict in his heart, at least none Clarke would accept, so he sits still and lets her do her thing.
Her breath is warm on his face. Only inches separate them, and he can’t help his eyes darting to her lips. A lump forms in his throat. Now is not the time for this. He takes a calming breath and squeezes his eyes shut before he does something stupid. There will never be a time for this. Just something else he doesn’t deserve.
She pauses. “Am I hurting you?”
Not in the way you think. Bellamy shakes his head. They both know it’s a lie, but she keeps quiet as she moves on to his shoulder. Still, he hisses when the tattered fabric pulls from his back, surely taking half his skin with it.
On the table next to him, the little girl freezes, her eyes suddenly on them. Bellamy smiles tightly. “I’m okay,” he tells her, hoping his voice doesn’t betray the pain. “Really.” She cocks her head, brow furrowed. Obviously, he’s not fooling anyone.
Abby manages to get a blood pressure cuff over the girl’s arm while she’s distracted. But when it starts to squeeze, her attention turns towards the offending device. She thrashes about, slapping and snarling at it. She’s almost comical in her fierceness. Could she be any more like Octavia? His smile turns genuine at the thought.
“Okay, okay,” Abby says, disconnecting the cuff. As soon as it deflates, the girl tears it off and chucks it across the room in a huff. Miller coughs, hiding a laugh behind his fist. Bellamy’s smile grows. Damn, she’s adorable.
“Ow!” Bellamy jumps, turning a glare at Clarke who tries to look all innocent despite the bottle of something that appears to be iodine in her hands. No wonder it hurt so much. “What are you doing?”
“I’m cleaning the wounds. Those claws can hold all sorts of bacteria. And this is going to need sutures.”
“I’m fine. Just put some of those butterfly things on it,” he grumbles ignoring the scathing look she gives him. “As much radiation that’s out there, I doubt- OW! Stop that.”
A little hand lands on his other shoulder. He wraps a steadying arm around the girl as she perches on the edge of the table, watching Clarke intently. The next time he hisses, the girl smacks Clarke with the light.
“Hey.” Clarke snatches her hand away. The girl growls, baring her teeth. Miller can’t contain his amusement anymore. He nearly falls off of his table laughing. Next to him, Jackson turns away, his shoulders hitching with silent chuckles. Even Abby snickers.
The girl raises the light in warning as Clarke moves closer again, holding up a square of gauze. “I’m just trying to help him, okay? See?” She motions for the girl to look, but her hilarious scowl never leaves Clarke’s face. On his other side, Abby is biting her lip to keep from laughing.
Clarke shoots her mother an irritated look before turning back to the girl. “I have to clean his-” She scrunches her brow in the most adorable way as she searches for reassuring words. “I have to clean his ouchie.”
That’s it-Abby’s gone. She leans on the table for support as she’s overcome with giggles. Jackson covers his mouth and darts out of the room, Miller on his heels. It’s probably a good idea because Clarke looks ready to murder someone.
“I swear I’m not going to hurt him,” she says in an even tone that does nothing to soothe the girl. “See.” Clarke gives Bellamy a look that says he better not flinch.
Bellamy braces himself, but not well enough. The iodine stings like a mother, and he jerks away. “Son of a bitch,” he mutters.
The girl growls and smacks Clarke with the light again. Despite the pain, Bellamy chuckles, earning him another death glare.
“Mom, you do it,” Clarke whines, rubbing her sore hand.
“Oh, no. You’re doing fine on your own. I think you’re winning her over.”
Clarke sighs. “I’m going to go check on Miller.”
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