Chapter 1:
A swift kick to her stomach caused her to let out a painful gasp, "I can take it." She nearly cried as she looked at Octavia. "I can take it." She repeated with wide eyes as the grounder pulled back his leg and kicked her again. This time, she screamed as one of her ribs cracked—still, she looked at Octavia and repeated her previous statement. She felt the need to repeat herself with every hard blow because Octavia was packing heat underneath her jacket and if she dared to kill one of Clarke's assaulters—they would all die. All was a reference to the people under her watchful eye. When the grounder went to kick her again, she saw Octavia move forward. "Octavia, I can take it." She claimed as she attempted to stand up—a hard heave escaping her lips as she stood before the three grounders that'd kidnaped them from the outskirts of camp (a place they shouldn't have been in the first place). She nodded to the grounder as a sign that she was ready for more—that she could really take it. Whatever the hell it was…
His dirty fist connected with her face for the second and then the third time that night. She stumbled back, but this time she did not fall despite the excoriating pain circulating throughout her bones. She could not fall. Mentally, she made a catalog of each of the injuries she could feel as the grounded stood straight before her.
She could not tell if it was over or not but there was a break from the pain and it made her uncomfortable. "Clarke…" Octavia cried, "It's over…it's over." She repeated the words over and over again until she touched Clarke. Clarke flinched away from her and Octavia's face crumbled. "You should have let me do it." The grounders were standing near her but they were no longer trying to hurt her. Clarke took this as a sign that they were at peace—the pact was one of blood, wasn't it? Under normal circumstances, Clarke would find Octavia extremely sweet but she couldn't be emotional—she couldn't hug her because it'd hurt too damn bad.
Lexa stood away from her men but she looked pleased with the outcome—it was, in fact, a grounder tradition. It was Lexa that ordered her kidnaping…Lexa that demanded the truce. Clarke complied immediately without consulting with her co-leader. At this point, there was nothing that Bellamy could do to her that the grounders hadn't (except kill her.) "Can…we leave?" It hurt to speak—it hurt to breathe but she knew she would have to walk away like a strong leader.
"Yes. We will come to you with negotiations concerning our peace." Lexa nodded before Octavia tried to help Clarke walk.
"I'm fine." Clarke nearly groaned as she took a few steps without Octavia. She refused to let Octavia touch her as they made their way towards the camp. They were a .2 miles away from camp by the looks of the scenery and Clarke had all intentions of keeping it together until then. Octavia had other ideas but Clarke continued to push her away repeatedly. Her pain was consistent…she told herself that she would take it easy for the next few days. She wasn't going to push it. She couldn't afford to push it.
They'd been missing for hours and the camp was bound to be in a panic. Octavia pulled out her gun—or Bellamy's gun that she stole because she wanted to learn how to shoot. She had all intentions of returning it but then they got kidnaped. "I'm sorry I made you go after me."
"They would have done it eventually." Clarke's words were not smooth—they were cut off by her irregular breathing but Octavia received the message. "You think I can hide this from Bellamy?" Octavia looked over her swollen and bruised features, her limp and her bloody lip.
"Oh definitely." Octavia said with a sarcastic nod. "He'll never even know."
Even if they were joking, Clarke wished Bellamy wouldn't see her this way… but she had so many things to tell him—so many things to say that affected each and every person in their camp.
It was Miller who greeted them at the gate, "What happened to you?" Octavia shot him a look that all but told him to drop dead. Clarke rolled her eyes as he sauntered off to retrieve Bellamy. His face was everything she expected it to be. He was angry, concerned, scared…it was everything she thought it would be and it still hurt to see her co-leader in such a mood. Clarke's heartbeat started pumping at the speed of light as he walked quickly over to them.
Octavia didn't have a scratch on her, just an expression that said she'd gone through hell and back. Bellamy seemed to throw off some of the weight that rested on his shoulders. He pulled Octavia into a tight hug before turning his attention to Clarke. "What do you need me to do?" These weren't the first words Clarke expected to hear out of his mouth.
"Nothing." Clarke said, "Absolutely nothing…um…" She let out a hard groan when Bellamy reached his hand out and brushed her side.
"Broken?" Bellamy asked, his eyes meeting hers with an uneasy look. "Come on…let me help you."
She nodded, releasing another groan when he wrapped his arm around her and led her to the drop ship. They're friendship was stronger than ever—their partnership was better. Once in the drop ship, she put her hands against the cold metal slab and let out a loud cry. "Dammit!" She screamed when she removed her shirt from her body. "It's already bruising…" She concluded after dragging a hand down her own skin. She sucked in another breath when Bellamy's hand connected with her hot, swelling skin. "Careful."
"I'm trying." He said, "Hold still…damn." The torn cloth she kept in the corner of her room was now in Bellamy's hand. "This will probably hurt."
"Most definitely." Clarke said.
