Author's Note: Remember when I said one shot but I'm probably lying? Yeah...totally lied. This is a request fic, so request was longer than one chapter. How much longer? Really depends on whether or not you care if it's A/U. This is going to split off from season 2 starting episode 11. And yes, it will eventually back track to how and what happened at Mount Weather, but a couple things I am going to forewarn about: 1) I have taken a disliking to Clarke. I power watched the entire first season and most of the second between these updates, and I'd forgotten just how quickly her personality changed. I think the part that did me in was when she told Bellamy to go to Mount Weather on his own, saying her earlier protests of not being able to lose him was weakness. I mean...ouch, dude. I'm not a Bellarke fan, but that was cold. And she started getting really into playing the martyr. "Oh, I'm going to be upset that I had to kill my friend to keep him from being tortured, but for the sake of intel, I'm going to let them blow up this summit, and then I'm going to do another 180 and cry about how the guilt is eating me." Admittedly, I'm more irritated at the writers, but still. I can't like a character if I can't understand them. So there's that. 2) I'm going to ignore anything that happens to Clarke, Bellamy or the rest of the crews from this episode onward.

EDIT - this chapter and the one before have been altered. Originally this was a one shot, but after discussing it with the ones who actually requested this fic, the original story didn't work for my purpose. Essentially still the same, but Miller had replaced Clarke for some major interactions.

And now enough delays! ONWARD!


Getting the remaining five hundred yards to the camp was the longest five hundred yards in Kane's life. It felt more like five hundred miles.

Miller was exhausted himself, stumbling every few steps now that his adrenaline was wearing off. Kane knew that feeling. The end of the mission, home was in sight, and he had fulfilled his promise to his friends. To his family. He'd brought them home, and now everything was catching up. But his father came to greet them at the gate, tears of joy in his eyes at the sight of his son returning home and Miller managed one last burst of energy, running to greet him and flinging his arms around his father.

Kane wanted to be happy – he knew David for years, and knew just how hard this had been for the chief of the guard. All they'd had was Clarke's promise that they would be returned eventually, but never a time or a place on when exactly that was.

Speaking of Clarke…he could just see her blonde hair in the crowd gathered as the children found their families and their friends, but she strangely enough didn't come any closer to Bellamy and Kane. From what Kane had been told, Bellamy and Clarke had become co-leaders of the Delinquents, and it struck him as somewhat odd that she wouldn't want to check up on her friend.

Octavia was reluctant to let go of Bellamy, but Kane managed to appeal to logic. Her difference in height meant that Bellamy had to lean over her for her to support, forcing her to take more than half his weight, and if she stumbled, or he did, sheer physics was going to bring them both crashing down. And Kane seriously doubted Bellamy could take any more abuse.

Kane, on the other hand, was the exact same height, and if Bellamy fell, he could actually catch him without the two of them falling.

With Bellamy's arm draped over his shoulders, and one of his arms around Bellamy's waist, the ragtag group headed for home, Octavia in the lead, even if she kept glancing over her shoulders to make sure the men were still following.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of the camp, the guards rolled the gate closed behind them with a clang, latching shut and suddenly Bellamy was trying to turn around, twisting violently in Kane's grip until he was practically climbing over top of him to try and get back towards the now locked gate.

"Hey, whoa, wait Bellamy- Bell!" Kane said, readjusting his grip so he wasn't in danger of breaking Bellamy's arm. The kid had managed to spin around so they were almost face to face except Bellamy didn't even seem to register that he was there at all, shoving his weight back towards the entrance to the camp, forcing Kane to lean forwards to keep their balance.

For being dangerously underweight and seriously injured, Bellamy could still put up a fight, digging in his fingers to Kane's shoulder hard enough to bruise even through his jacket.

"Unlock the gate!" Jasper shouted, and Kane looked up to see both him and Monty running towards them, full tilt and Jasper waving frantically. "Unlock the gate!"

Monty barreled past the two of them, heading straight for the gate as Jasper slid to a stop in front of the two of them.

"Bell, look at me!" Jasper pleaded desperately, trying to get Bellamy to focus on him. "Bell, Bellamy, come on, man, look at me!" He grasped both sides of Bellamy's face, barely touching him but from Bellamy's reaction, he may as well have slapped him. He jerked his face away from the contact, banging his jaw into the side of Kane's head.

"It's open!" Monty shouted, and Kane could hear the gate swing open, even over Bellamy's panicked breathing in his ear. "It's open!"

"Look, Bell!" Jasper said, taking a step back so Bellamy could see the opened gate. "It's not locked, I promise! You're not locked in, not anymore, okay? Look! It's open!"

Anymore? Kane thought. He could feel Bellamy's struggles slowing, his desperate need to get back to the gate fading with his strength and Kane had about a second's warning before Bellamy's leg gave out on him entirely.

The same adrenaline fueled panic attack like in the forest abated, and Kane suddenly had to struggle to hold the kid up before the two of them could fall back into the dirt, Bellamy's face pressing into the side of Kane's neck.

"See?" Jasper said, voice soothing, and Kane had to hand it to the kid. From what little he remembered of him onboard the Ark, which was a goofy, aimless jokester, Jasper seemed to have done a lot of growing up on the ground.

They all had.

Jasper finally came around where Kane could see him, and despite the confidence in the voice he'd just used to soothe Bellamy, the kid was white as a sheet and looked vaguely ill.

"S-sorry about that," he said, stammering before clearing his throat nervously, wide eyed gaze going between Kane and the back of Bellamy's head. "You uh, you…" he stumbled over his words, playing with his hands as he tried to speak.

"It's okay, Jasper," Kane said, trying to offer a supportive smile. His head still hurt where Bellamy had smacked it with his own, so it probably looked more like a grimace, but at least Jasper stopped stuttering.

"You can't lock him up," Jasper said abruptly. "I mean, like, you can't let him hear it. It messes with his head and he forgets where he is. Just…just, uh, leave the doors open, okay? Or wait till he's not around to hear it close."

Lock him up? Kane's mind played over the words Jasper had tried to placate Bellamy with.

'You're not locked in, not anymore.'

"What happened?" Kane asked, and didn't care that he sounded slightly desperate because he was. "Why doesn't he speak?"

Jasper lost the little color he had, shrugging his shoulder. "I don't know – h-he's been like that for weeks, and…" he trailed off, looking the same suspicious green Monty had earlier.

Kane waved him off. "No locked doors. Got it. Thanks, Jasper. I got him from here."

Jasper took one last look at Bellamy, who had yet to look up or even turn his head, and darted off.

"Come on, kid," Kane said, giving Bellamy a quick pat on the back of his shoulder. "Let's get you to Abby. Or at least to a bed."

He could feel the barest hint of movement from Bellamy as he nodded, one quick downward gesture before trying to push away from the older man, clearly about to attempt to walk again and forgetting entirely that he only had one functioning leg at the moment.

"No, wait – shit," Kane cursed as Bellamy's legs folded under him, dragging them both down.

Suddenly Octavia was there, grabbing onto her brother's free arm as she ducked underneath it, holding it firmly over her shoulders as she glared at Kane. "What was that about not dropping him?"

"Until he tried to climb me like a tree, I wasn't doing half bad," Kane said, smirking grimly as he got his arm back underneath the older boy.

"I think he just called you a cat," Octavia teased her brother gently, returning Kane's smirk before she glanced up at Bellamy. "Bell? Bell?"

Kane shifted, trying to get a look at Bellamy's face, but it lolled unresponsively against his chest. With his free hand, Kane put the back of his hand against Bellamy's forehead and recoiled at the heat he found there.

"Dammit," he cursed. "Octavia, get Abby. Now. Tell her I'm bringing Bellamy to her and he's burning up."

"But-"

"I got him," Kane snapped, harsher then he meant to but worry made him short, and swung Bellamy around again, this time lifting him into his arms with an ease that shouldn't have been possible for someone Bellamy's size. He'd lost a lot of weight. "Now, Octavia."

She opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but one quick look at her brother's face and she nodded, running past Clarke who hadn't moved during the entire exchange. She stood still, in the middle of the yard, a look on her face he couldn't quite decipher and didn't have time to puzzle over.

As he pushed past her, the only thing he said was "You have a lot of explaining to do."

*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*

"Put him there," Abby said, pointing to the table in the middle of the room. She was rifling through her supplies. "Besides fever, what else am I looking at?"

Kane set Bellamy down at the edge of the table, but as soon as he tried to push Bellamy down so that he was lying on his back, Bellamy came alive, fighting to sit back up. His fingers latched on to Kane's vest with a death defying grip, tangling in the extra material in his hands before Kane could pry him loose.

Every movement was wild, frantic and disjointed – a combination of flight or flight, raging fever and pure exhaustion but he refused to lay down.

"Kane?" Abby prompted.

"I have no idea," he answered honestly.

"He's messed up at least one leg," Octavia supplied. "It's not broken, but he can't stand on it either."

Oh good. Octavia at least had her wits about her, but Kane was having trouble focusing beyond the fact that he was so far out of his depth that he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to be doing. He didn't have kids – never did. He wasn't the type to offer words of comfort, he was the one who pointed out uncomfortable truths. This is what Abby was for. Abby was the mother figure, who held the people together and offered that shield against the world only a parent could.

Yes, Clarke was her only child, but that didn't mean she didn't see the rest of the crew as a part of her extended family. He hadn't even had that kind of relationship with his own mother.

"Talk to him, Kane," Abby instructed.

And say what?

Why the hell could he manage this in the forest but not here, when Bellamy actually needed it?

He floundered, wondering what the hell he could do or say when he realized that that Bellamy was shaking. Minute tremors shook his entire frame and for a moment he thought he was seizing…until he heard the chattering of teeth.

"Aw, Christ, kid…sorry about that," he muttered, glancing around for a blanket. Bellamy's skin may be hot to the touch, but the air was not, and god only knew how long they'd been walking back through the woods. It was an eight hour walk if you kept a steady pace and were healthy, but in his condition…it could've been days, and the weather wasn't exactly sunny and warm. It'd stayed rainy and overcast in the mid-forties for the better part of a week.

Prime hypothermia conditions for people in the best of shape, which Bellamy clearly was not.

He rubbed one hand over Bellamy's back, urging circulation and warmth while he stretched for the blanket folded at the other end of the table.

Bellamy's grip didn't loosen or shift, but as soon as Kane leaned away from him trying to reach for the blanket, he pushed closer to him, grip tightening on his shirt.

Kane chalked it up to the need for warmth and carefully draped the unfolded blanket over Bellamy's shoulders.

Bellamy didn't reach for it like he expected, instead keeping his death grip on Kane. He didn't really seem all that aware of what was going on around him, and Kane couldn't really fault him for that. The same fight or flight adrenaline that got Miller through the forest carrying him was now abandoning him as well, but the kid still didn't stop fighting.

The thought hit him like a brick. Even if it was nothing more than physical warmth, he was probably the only thing that Bellamy registered at the moment. Considering what they knew about the Mountain Men, maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the best thing, really. Because for once, Bellamy wasn't trying to escape from anything.

He was desperately trying not to let go.

And so Kane let himself talk. About absolutely nothing at all. It was stupid, empty platitudes, but he kept his voice low and even, letting Bellamy cling to him like he was his only life line in the world, the only tangible connection he had that he had to reality and for all Kane knew, he was.

"You're going to be fine, Bell," he said, absently rubbing Bellamy's back. "It's going to be okay. We got you now, and you're home. Everyone's home, and everything is going to be fine."

From the angle he was at, it was impossible to see Bellamy's face to judge if he was having any effect on the kid one way or another. With Bellamy's head pretty much jammed underneath his chin, Kane could hardly look down at all. At least his teeth had stopped chattering, but now he could hear something else, and considerably more worrying.

Bellamy was breathing like a freight train. Every breath rattled deep in his chest, enough that Kane could feel it through both their layers of clothing.

"Hey, Abby," he called, trying to keep his voice at the same low, even tone. "I think he might have pneumonia…he's having trouble breathing."

The doctor grabbed one more thing from the shelves before finally coming back to the table. She raised an eyebrow slightly at Kane, who could only offer a small, one shouldered shrug. "He wouldn't let go."

Abby shook her head. "As long as he's okay, he can stay sitting up, but it's going to be difficult to get any sort of exam done with you right there."

"If you can think of a way to get him to let go without breaking fingers, I'm all ears," Kane said quietly.

Abby set down her supplies, some of which Kane at least recognized.

Unfortunately, so did Bellamy.

(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*(*

His first mistake was believing the soothing words that promised he was okay. That he was safe.

The second was to allow himself to drift, shutting out the immediate world beyond steady heartbeat that blocked out all the other noises. He was desperate not to lose it, and it was the only thing he allowed himself to focus on. Everything else became unnecessary background that he willfully tuned out.

He should've never opened his eyes, but the new voice, the new presence was something that caught his attention and his muddled thoughts couldn't dismiss as irrelevant. The clatter of metal and glass and plastic was something he learned was never a good thing, and forced his eyes open to his half dimmed world.

Bellamy caught a glimpse of the vacutainer out of the corner of his good eye and he was suddenly off the other side of the table, pushing as far away from it as he could until he ran into something solid. It was instinct. He could move – so he would move. Nothing tied him down this time, no matter how the sensation of leather straps lingered in his memory.

"Wait, Bell…whoa," Abby said, trying to keep her voice even and low, one hand out and palm open as if that would mean she couldn't hurt him.

Somehow being spoken to like a frightened animal made it worse.

Empty hands were meaningless.

"Easy kid," Kane said from the darkened corner of Bellamy's vision.

The more they talked the worse it became and their voices overlapped with the memory of Cage and Tsing.

Calm down.

You're going to make this harder on yourself.

The hand that touched his shoulder wasn't Kane's – in his mind it was Cage.

He put his hands up to his ears, trying to block out the sounds as much as the memories, but everywhere he turned to look it was a painfully familiar piece of equipment. It didn't matter if they weren't designed to hurt, because they sure as fuck did.

His much too big sleeves slid down to his elbows, pooling around the joints as he pulled at his own hair, finger nails digging into his scalp – any sensation to block out the phantom pains of needles and scalpels and the pull of the IV that never seemed to go away.

"Bellamy!" Abby protested, shock and anger coloring her voice and shut his eyes, wishing he could shut his ears against the memory of one man and one woman in a room covered with medical supplies trying to tell him that this wouldn't hurt.

Unless it was Cage's off days, and then he was only too happy to tell him that 'yes, yes it would hurt'. At least those weren't lies.

"Abby…stop."

That one word, that one single word made Bellamy look up. Because that word had become a lost one. It held no meaning. No matter how many times he'd said it, no one listened.

But this woman did. Abby, he reminded himself. Abby stopped. Even when he didn't tell her to, because he hadn't needed to…someone else did, and she listened.

Someone else told her stop and she did.

He couldn't help the sudden cessation of motion, not even realizing he'd started to rock again as he looked up.

She hadn't come any closer. She'd actually backed up.

Kane had moved from the darkened half of his vision to stand next to Abby, his hand on her arm. Both of them were staring at him, Abby open mouthed and Kane's set in a firm line.

Except…they weren't looking at his face. They were looking at his arms, and belatedly, he realized why. He abruptly lowered his arms, self-consciously pulling at his sleeves until they covered his hands and he shoved them under his arms, hugging them to himself. He could feel his cheeks burn pink and he turned away, forcing the adults into the blackened field of vision.

"Bellamy?"

The voice was quiet, carefully measured and even…and sad.

Cage and Tsing didn't get emotional. To them, he hadn't warranted anything resembling care, one way or another. The only time they seemed even remotely human was when Cage lost his temper.

He could hear footsteps – the same, careful measured evenness to them that the voice had. The soft sound of shoes grinding into the floor as someone kneeled down, inches away from him but not an invasive presence.

Yet.

"Bellamy?"

Kane, he thought viciously. Kane, not Cage. Kane, not Cage, notCage, notcagenotcage,notcage. He didn't even notice that he started rocking again until a hand touched his knee and his head shot up.

Kane was still an arm's distance away – only the tips of his fingers barely touching him. He held nothing. No collars, no needles, no scalpels.

"Can you show me?" he asked quietly. He gestured towards Bellamy's arms, still wrapped protectively around his midsection.

It took a moment to process what he said, and even longer for it to register. Kane didn't move, didn't push, didn't try and grab him. He simply held his hand out, an open and silent request instead of a demand. Bellamy risked a glance back at Abby, making sure Kane wasn't just a distraction, but the doctor hadn't moved. She stayed back from the table, nowhere near her tools, one hand on her mouth like Octavia had when he saw her in the forest.

For a moment he considered ignoring the request. He didn't have to give them anything. He didn't have to answer or show them a goddamned thing – and in that same moment, he remembered what happened when you refused a request.

He held one arm out, slowly and tentatively until Kane could reach it if he wanted to.

He didn't protest when the former councilman hooked a finger around the ragged edge of his sleeve, slowly pulling it back down, heard the sharp intake of air when Kane first saw them.

He didn't blame him. He didn't like to look at them either.

Thick, inches wide bruises and scars wrapped around his wrist, still red and raw and deepening purple around the edges, because even when they realized he was slicing through skin to tendons the added padding on the straps only worked so well.

Perhaps if they'd been the only scars, it wouldn't have been too bad. They were evidence that he fought. That he struggled and did not go gently into that night. That even until the day Jasper pulled him from the cage, he rebelled.

Except they weren't.

Kane's fingers continued down and Bellamy forced his eyes shut. He could already feel his face growing hot as he went, fingers trailing over scars new and old and he didn't want to see his reaction.

He traced over the square inch patch of missing skin halfway down his forearm, healed but sunken in compared to the rest of his arm. The dozen or more tiny circles that dotted his skin with militant precision formation.

It wasn't until Kane pulled his sleeve all the way back to his elbow that the older man even made a sound.

"Abby…" he called over his shoulder, and Bellamy could hear the forced levity in the tone. The one adults used when they were trying not panic children because maybe, just maybe this was something to worry about. "Can you come here for a second?"

Bellamy squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, trying to remind himself where he was and who they were.

"Are these what I think they are?" Kane asked, and the worry in his voice betrayed him. He knew exactly what he was looking at. He was just hoping that Abby would lie to him.

Without conscious thought, he started rocking, seeking comfort in the repetitive motion, softly hitting his head against the metal casing of the shelves. Anything to focus on besides the thought of unwanted hands in unwanted places or the hushed tones categorizing the damage done.

From much closer than the table, he could hear Abby's response, hear the horror in her voice which was almost worse than the cold detachment of Tsing because it meant that it was that bad. That this was no longer science or medicine, it was torture and he hated it.

"Those are skin graft scars…" Abby said. "Jesus, Kane, he's going to need one of his own to repair his wrists. I don't…I thought Clarke said all they wanted was blood?"

"Apparently, that wasn't enough," Kane said, and carefully let go of Bellamy's arm.

He snatched it back and folded it carefully underneath his other one, pulling the sleeve back down to cover the damage.

No, it wasn't enough, he thought bitterly. Never enough.


So. Like it, love it, loathe it? It's harder than I thought keeping all these guys in character while taking them completely out of canon. Also, flattery gets you everywhere, and if you have a suggestion for where or what you would like to see happen in this...I'm open for suggestions.

I should mention another thing: HI, COCKY UNDEAD. Yeah, totally ignoring Running Up That Hill for a moment while I work out some writing kinks with this one, but YAY! You're here!