Squander Not Thy Joys

[Weapon]

Collapsing to the floor, Bellamy bloodied their fists against the rough concrete as they screamed and sobbed. The shaking grew stronger and some of the distant sirens abruptly stopped, replaced by screams as the beams drew towards the Kirkstall residential block.

Kimiko pursed her lips, weighing her next words carefully. Some part of her, some distant part, offered a missive of vital information. Enough to place a seed, even as the fires drew nearer.

"...is she?"

Bellamy's fist stopped mid-air. "W-what?" they choked, staring up at Kimiko, eyes sunken and bloodshot.

"You never actually found out, did you? You seem to assume she is dead," she mused, her limbs growing ever so slightly longer, and her body growing in size imperceptibly.

Forcing themselves to their feet, Bellamy glared at Kimiko. "S-stop the beams. Tell me what you know."

"What I do know, Bellamy, is that a great many of the Commonwealth's children lived. Far more than died. When I walked the ground with human feet, I helped in escorting many refugee convoys out. And still more who fought and bled knew the wisdom of continuing to fight in another time, another place," she mused.

"My perceptions have their limits. But that thread of yours? It is not yet slack. Something may still tug at the other end."

In the distance, the beams continued their onslaught, but once again, a bubble formed about them. Sounds muted and the air grew still. Just like before.

Straightening their shoulders and wiping the tears from their eyes, Bellamy took a deep breath. "Okay," Bellamy said, swallowing the knot in their throat. "Okay, I'll... I'll try. But... you're right. I never had the chance to grieve Guadalajara properly, and this?"

They gestured to their surroundings, the smell of their mother's cooking still faintly lingering in the air.

"I never even knew I needed to grieve this. I... fuck, I was always kind of glad she stayed behind. I resented her that much, didn't I?"

Bellamy looked away in shame, and then at the details of the room around them. Some drawings their mother had been proud of and decided to frame, a pot they'd made with clay their father had brought from Cambridge, now shattered on the floor, and their ratty old zoo animal blanket that mom had always been too poor to replace.

"It's fair. I hated my father, too. He was a terrible person. A terrible, broken man who took it out on his wife and his daughter. A daughter he saw as a son. But..."

For once, Kimiko trailed off, as if the words were physically difficult to get out. She cleared her throat, even in this dreamscape.

"...he was still my dad. And I needed him to be someone he couldn't be."

"Regardless of what she was, she... nobody deserves this." They spoke, watching as the concrete began to crack in spite of Kimiko's protection. This was Bellamy's own doing. Placing their hand on the wall and trailing the tips of their fingers around the room, they touched each cherished object one last time. They looked to the door.

"Mom, I... I promise to come visit once in awhile, okay? And... Aunt Lorna, I don't know where you really are, but I'm sorry for giving up so easily."

Bellamy suddenly gasped. "Freud! He was on a mission, it was his first command... is he... did he...?"

Before Kimiko could answer them the klaxons started blaring again, somehow different this time, closer in a more tangible way. Pale white light began to pour through the cracks in the walls, and Bellamy noticed for the first time their hospital gown. They were sitting now, their sleeping spot with the tattered old blanket replaced by cold steel.

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Recruitment | Task Force Prometheus | ICN FIRESTORM