Report to watch. Guard training. Report to Kane. Scout. Report to Kane. Sleep.
Routine was the key to their survival, or at least to Bellamy's sanity. Routine meant he knew what was coming next, a luxury that none of the 100 had been able to afford since their haphazard arrival on Earth. Knowing what was coming next meant Bellamy had time to prepare himself for the reminders of the moral corners he and everyone from the Ark had cut to survive. Bellamy couldn't help but recall one of Chancellor Jaha's particularly unhelpful Unity Day speeches, something along the lines of "hardship brings out the best in humanity." Bellamy could've told you back then that these were the insubstantial delusions of a leader whose policies contradicted his proclamations of his trust in the "inherent goodness" of his people. Apparently second children and the mothers that carried them didn't have inherent goodness. Here on Earth, Bellamy could do more than tell you – he could point to any progress made by Skaikru and remind you of the innocent people that died for that progress. Bellamy had those reminders memorized, from the now-familiar sight of Jasper sprawled drunkenly on the floor to Raven's limp to the constant expression of thinly-veiled worry and frustration on Monty's face to-
"Stop," Bellamy reminded himself, inhaling deeply. He was still working on the exhaling part. There was plenty of time to worry about his friends later. In fact, most of the "Sleep" part of Bellamy's routine was devoted to worrying. If Bellamy was honest, worrying had become a constant in every element of his routine, but it was always in the quiet dark of his bunk that he found it hardest to avoid himself and the acts of violence his hands had-
"Stop," Bellamy reminded himself, firmer this time. There was no time to worry about himself.
Report to watch. Almost as bad as sleeping. Standing with a finger on the trigger, anxiety mounting the longer the horizon remained free of threats. Bellamy tried not to think about the fact that if an enemy was really a threat, they would know enough to make their way towards Arkadia undetected. It was always the things that weren't there that were the most frightening. Clarke wasn't there, hadn't been for the past 3 we-
"Stop!" Bellamy reminded himself, getting angrier at himself for losing focus. "Float her, anyway. She left. You stayed. You're still here, so be here. Float her." Even in his thoughts, Bellamy's cursing was half-hearted. The delinquents tossed the word around all the time, but the expression wasn't so easily delivered after you'd actually seen someone you cared about floated. Bellamy remembered watching his mother being abruptly sucked into space- he hadn't been expecting it to be that fast. Not much to remember visually, just the feeling of guilt and loss of direction that Bellamy had felt as it happened. Those feelings hadn't gone away as quickly as his mother's bod-
"STOP. Jesus, Bellamy, stop being dramatic. Stop…" The second "stop" he muttered aloud, under his breath as he rolled his shoulders and shifted his feet, scanning the perimeter desperately for something to fight. No luck. Just peace. Bellamy knew peace was the goal, but he wasn't sure where he fit in in a peaceful Earth. Not that it mattered; he'd probably die in a grounder skirmish before real peace ever-
"STOP-" Bellamy began to say out loud. He was interrupted by the arrival of the next guard.
"Uh, hey man, sorry to sneak up on you. It's just me, Monroe. Just taking over your post…"
"Yeah, Monroe, sorry I was just…uh, all clear. Nothing happened. Thanks." Bellamy left before Monroe could dwell on the awkwardness of her interruption. Bellamy could only hope she wouldn't think enough of it to say anything to Kane.
