Bellamy Scott D3 [Done]

Gun powder is all he can smell some days.

The whiff of the burning smell and the sound of gunshots that echo in a home. Too young to realize what was going on, except that everything changed when he was seven years old. Engineers or mechanics, he couldn't remember which his parents were, but they weren't there with him. The smell of gun powder still in his nose as he can remember hiding while the killers came. A shout from his father to hide in a closet and don't do anything. No speaking. No breathing. Everything had been still in that moment. No faces to remember of the people who killed his parents, only the sound of a gunshot that almost made him scream, but instead he covered his ears from the noise. No more bedtime stories to be told about knights and princesses. No more blocks to stack up into giant toy cities for the dolls that he had. Action figures are what he called them, but they were dolls.

It all came crashing down like the monsters that destroyed his toy cities. An echoed sound of a bullet that pierces his father. Mother had died giving birth to him. The wisdom had been told him by the orphanage, but that's all they could give him. No one dared to speak of his father. Eyes that were cold looking away by the times he asked where his father was. Peacekeepers had taken him to the orphanage that keeps things hushed. There's a mystery to what happened to his father, but all he did was let it go. He let it go in order to try and be a child. Kids who played house and fun games with blocks and dolls. Everything had changed with a bullet.

Instead of playing house with children, he played detective.

Kids growing older into teenagers with innocence stripped away from them. Alone is how he started, but he grew with friends. There were others who had lost their parents just like he had. Lucas was the first that he had come to known. Breaking walls of grief and sorrows that don't crumble easily. Offering to play games like the children they had been. Friends since the start of getting put in an orphanage together. All he wanted was a friend back then, but he grew to having something more in his chest. It didn't bother him until every smile off of Lucas' lips giving him butterflies.

Things were so complicated now with the hushed secrets that he tries to uncover. That's where he ends up outside of Lucas' room trying to steady himself before entering with a smile upon his face as he acts like nothing felt different. They had shared a similar past, but Bellamy had to be stronger. Holding up the younger from the mess that was grief. Bellamy spent most of his time with Lucas doing whatever. Talking, goofing off, and just really anything that they wanted to. It's how it had been when they were little to now. A smile plastered upon his face as he walks around the room commenting on how bright it always seemed to be.

Unlike his own room which was dark and trashed with a wall of sticky notes and threads as he tries to solve the case of his father's death. There's a poster over it of something that he wasn't really interested in, but hid the wall well. Lucas didn't need to know that he was looking into both his fathers and Lucas' parents' deaths. All he can do is smile like he;s not playing detective every day. Lucas had to have known about it by now, but he still was gonna act like he didn't spend hours talking to workers of the same place that his father worked at.

The dark comes with moonlight and a pain that still wakes in his chest. The smell of gunpowder in his nose as he sneaks away from the room at the orphanage and into the dark of the night with nothing more than a flashlight in hand. One of the only things that he had gotten from his father. In the middle of the night, he sneaks around alleys and buildings, until he finds his way to the same place that had been his home. Empty and still filled with white painted walls that were aged over time. Blood had been on one of them when he found a way in during the investigation, but it's now as blank as his mind had been during it all.

A closet being the only place that had been safe for a child who could barely understand what had gone on that night. Many people would be curious as to why he wanted to know what happened, but even he didn't have an answer. Something in his chest always yearned to know the truth and bring someone to justice, but he couldn't put it together. Gun powder was his only clue and the sound of a gunshot that entered through his father's head. There's nothing else that he knew of, except where the bullet had to have come from based on the trajectory in where blood had escaped onto the wall.

His mind was cranking out anything that could help him. How fast had the bullet gone? What type of gun had caused that much damage? What was the motive to killing his father? Who didn't like dad? He couldn't answer these, but he would sit in that room and think back to the time when his father stacked blocks up into a church building. Ripred be with them is what he said when he finished the building. A god that couldn't even say a genius of a man from dying in their world. That's what he could infer as the motive, but even he didn't know what his father had been creating. An engineering masterpiece is what he expected it to be, but he wouldn't know.

That was fine with him.

All he wanted were the memories in that room.

Tears flowing from his eyes as he can't help to feel like there was nothing he could have done then, but now he could help solve the mystery that the men in white don't try to solve. A cold case that's gone dry. He'd solve it like the cases that he solved as a child when he played detective. He'd try to solve the mystery of his father, but for then he'd remember what he could of him and live life the way he had been.

With a smile and confused feelings towards his friend.

Brown curly hair is messily pushed around like he's tries to style it, but failed. Blue eyes that are cold with sadness, but light up when he thinks about Lucas stare back at him as he washed his face with water. Lips, pink and plump, move gently as he talks to himself out loud about how tired he feels. Ears listening to his surroundings as he's always done since the smell of gunpowder reaches his nose. Terror in his mind as he imagines his father's killer looking for him, but he ends up being nervous for no reason.

A lanky body from all the running that he's done as a teenager and a kid. He's never been the type of person to sit still, always on the go and always wanting to do something more. Long legs that are strong from all the sneaking around and running to places. Arms that are toned as he climbed stuff as a kid, but he's just an average guy that has a metabolism that keeps him fairly skinny, though even with the food that the orphanage gives them, he'd still be as skinny as he was.

A small smile comes to his face as he climbs into bed thinking about the fun times Lucas and him have spent.

That night he dreams of no longer smelling gunpowder, but smelling something else.

A man who makes him smile constantly.

No more worries about who killed his family.

Just the smile that sends butterflies through him.

And for once he feels at peace, even when morning comes and the alarm tells him to look out at the place his father worked.

That boy could brighten up his day with just one look.

And he always did.