Chapter 1
The room was too bright, the air too thin. Clarke tried to steady her hands as the cold settled into her like a bucket of ice shot into her veins. No! No! This will not define me, this will not keep happening to me. I am stronger than this! I am strong. She opened her eyes and her blue eyes took in the scene.
Her voice was sure as she commanded two of the guards to bring the next victim to her table. Her mother had taught her to instruct people to do what she needed. The command left no doubt that she was in charge, at least until her mother was available. This wasn't supposed to happen so soon. She was still a medical apprentice, a trainee, but with her mother evaluating the people with the worst injuries, it was her job to decide what to do with the people leftover. The explosion had decimated factory station's population. Seven were dead, twelve critical and three were in pain, but not on death's door. Her mother was tending to the five of the twelve that were about to die in mere minutes. That left ten for her to evaluate the others. Jackson was helping her mother with the more critically injured.
Clarke set her shoulders as she looked at the young mechanic. Her hair was the color of whiskey and she had bright green eyes. Or used to. Half of her face was fused to the jacket which she had thrown over her body in order to protect it from the flames. Her hands were blackened and peeling. Some parts of fingers were glistening white with bone exposed. The rest of her body was covered in debris and third degree burns. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps as she tried to twist and turn away from the pain. She wasn't going to make it. Even if her body didn't go into shock, the amount of antibiotics to stop infection from setting in was three times the normal medical ration. She wasn't going to make it. But Clarke could make it better.
Clarke's hand cupped the young woman's unmarred cheek, "What's your name?" She asked as met the frightened girl's gaze without flinching.
"Sam." The girl wheezed out between one gasp and the other.
"That's a pretty name. I'm Clarke." She whispered and smiled brightly in the face of her pain. The girl tried to smile back, but it was half a grimace. Clarke readied the syringe and gently gave the girl the morphine shot. The girl quit trying to toss and turn to make the pain go away. Her whimpering hushed as the morphine did its job and slowly quieted Sam's screaming nerves. The agony began to bleed away. Clarke monitored her breathing until it began to slow down until the girl barely moved. Sam's body lay still as her heart rate flatlined and the screeching singular beep droned in Clarke's ears.
Clarke memorized the girl's features as she pulled the blanket over Sam's face. She would never forget Sam, because she had been her first patient and the first patient she lost. She would see this as more as she became the Ark's doctor and she needed to make her heart stone. Every doctor lost patients, but in this world, it was a not only inevitable, but a necessity. As doctors, they made the hard decisions.
Abby Griffin came walking in, wiping the blood from her hands as she looked at her daughter covering up a victim on the operating table.
"Trainee, report." Abby barked. Clarke wasn't supposed to be treating patients, but she had ignored Abby's orders and had begun to treat patients without either Jackson or her on standby. Abby couldn't afford to coddle Clarke in this arena. She had to treat her like any other apprentice.
Clarke sighed, "Third degree burns over 85 percent of her body. At least one broken femur and she had lost at least half her blood supply." Abby nodded.
"Did she die on the table or did you help her along?" Abby hated the practice, but she herself had been faced with that decision on more than one occasion. Let the patient live and suffer or help ease their pain so they didn't die crying out in pain. It went against everything she had been taught as a doctor, but this wasn't the perfect world they were living in and she had learned the hard way that sometimes not fighting was the kinder choice.
"What do you think?" Clarke met her mother's eye with stubbornness and her own hatred of what she had done.
"Triage the other three and then go home. Jackson and I can handle the rest." Clarke nodded and took off her examination gloves.
Clark numbly walked towards what was home. The small three-room cubicle she shared with her mother since her father had been floated. Things had not been the right between them since that moment. Her mother had moved them to one of the smaller units designated for single parents. Clarke didn't mind, it was actually refreshing to not be surrounded by memories of her father.
She continued down the hallway and turned left picking up speed. She could feel a panic attack coming on, the hallway seemed smaller, tightening around her more with every second. She needed to be in the safety of her own room when she finally broke down. As she picked up speed she wasn't looking where she was going. Between one second and the next she was looking up from the floor at the person she had slammed into.
A guard, no, she shook her head to clear it, a cadet. He looked as bewildered as she felt. He kept staring at her like she had grown another head, "Sorry, didn't mean to slam into you. I wasn't looking where I was going." Clarke stammered.
"It's okay." He murmured and reached down to help her stand.
"Thanks, I got it." Clarke popped back up like nothing had happened a stupid smile plastered on her face. It was the fake smile she used for when she had to attend an event that required the one of the council member's children to be present. It was the mask she used to show the outside world she was fine. She hurried around the corner and slipped inside her front door and felt the shakes coming.
Closing her bedroom door she sank to the floor and felt the tears begin to fall. This had been happening ever since she had lost her father. Jaha, The Chancellor himself, one of her family's closest friends, had floated him for trying to do the right thing. She had been held in solitary ever since that fateful day, but randomly one day The Chancellor decreed she was released from the criminal sanctions due to her age and the fact that she had to continue her training as a medical apprentice in order to become a doctor for the next generation. Jaha had certain rules, she could never break the law again, she must continue her training and she could never tell another soul what she knew about the life support of The Ark. Clarke had only agreed, because Jaha had said that everyone involved would have to be floated if the truth came out. That included her mother. Clarke and her mother hadn't been close since her father was floated, but she still loved her mom. She couldn't bear it if she was the reason that her mom was killed.
Clarke looked at her hands trembling. The tremors started in her hands and travelled up her arms until her whole upper torso was quaking with the terrible feeling. Every patient she had treated since her father died was him. She saw him staring up at her, begging her to save him.
I don't know if I can do this. She thought to herself. You have to. Otherwise you die and so does your mother. Another voice in her head shouted. She covered her ears and began to sob until she cried herself to sleep against the door.
Bellamy just stood there. He couldn't believe that had actually happened. The princess of the Ark, Clarke Griffin, had just smashed into him and then run off like the devil himself goosed her. He was lucky no one saw or he could've gotten written up. Everyone on the Ark loved Clark Griffin like she was a celebrity. Hence the name Princess.
He sighed as he opened the door to O's smiling face. She was sitting at the lone table in the middle of room working on one of her projects. The medium changed daily, but his sister never stopped doodling, creating or making something out of nothing. She brought beauty into the world in every way and he hated that she couldn't shine for anyone but him and their mother.
"What you up to this time, O?" Octavia looked at her big brother and beamed while holding up an I.D. Sleeve. Everyone on the Ark from the littlest babe to the oldest adult always had to carry their I.D. card at all times. He looked at the sleeve that had been hand sewn from old scraps of discarded clothing their mother must've thrown away when sewing up uniforms and such. The material matched his cadet uniform, but was tougher. Sewn into the back was "Bellamy Blake". He smiled.
"It's beautiful. Just like you." He one armed hugged her and looked down at her other project she was currently working on.
Octavia caught his eyesight and her smiled softened a little, "I thought I might make one for me. Who knows, maybe one day, I can get an I.D. The law could change." Bellamy sighed. She knew the truth as did he. Their mother had beaten it into them long before she was even old enough to understand the words. He should lecture her, but he couldn't crush her last shred of hope. That wasn't who he was.
He crouched down on his haunches and touched her cheek gently while she continued to work diligently, "Yeah, maybe they will." He was rewarded with a small smile.
O continued to work quietly while he walked into his bedroom and began to strip down. This latest training shift had been particularly sadistic. The other cadets had never been friendly, but he was pretty sure now a gang of them had it in for him. He rotated his shoulder and winced when pain shot from under his chest and made his breath his out between clenched teeth. He tenderly touched the place where Jared had punched him in the side during a sparring session and tried not to double over when the pain slashed at him again.
"Damnit." He cursed quietly. Jared either fractured or broke one of his ribs. That bastard really hated him. He'd have to be more careful in the future. Sighing he laid back on bed and looked at the gray metal ceiling. Octavia continued to bustle about the living room as he counted his breaths. His little sister made this all worth it. If and when he became a guard, he could find a way to let her see all things she dreamed of. She wouldn't be a prisoner forever, he'd make sure of it.
"Billy, all done. Look at how brave you were." Clarke talked to the little boy who was still sniffling from the vaccination she had to administer. Her mother had given her the task of giving the latest round of vaccinations to the five through seven year olds. It was tedious work, but she actually relished it after all the injuries of late. She couldn't take another trauma case. And luckily, Billy here, didn't necessitate any kind of care above giving him a bandaid and a smile.
Billy's teacher smiled and took Billy by the underarms and led him out to wait with the other children of his class.
"ABBY! ABBY! Incoming trauma case!" Jackson shouted. Clarke's mother came out of her office and Clarke followed her to the trauma room located right across from the non-emergency waiting area.
"What happened here?" Abby asked calmly as two cadets were brought in on stretchers. One had a deep bullet wound in his leg and the other was beaten to pulp, wheezing through two cracked teeth.
"A cluster fuck." Shumway growled as a third boy limped in. He wasn't on a stretcher, but he was hurt.
"Clarke, you take the cadet standing. I'll work on these. The bullet might've kicked his artery. Jackson, I need dressing," Jackson nodded in response and started to grab everything she called for.
Clarke nodded to the cadet who was standing. He was cradling his left side, "This way please. I'll see you in here." Shumway followed behind the cadet watching Clarke and him closely. "Please have a seat there." Clarke motioned to the examination table.
"He isn't hurt as bad as Jared and Darin. Just slap a bandaid on him and let me take him in," Shumway explained while he hovered and watched the cadet.
She ignored Shumway with ease, "What's your name?" Clarke asked the cadet as she flicked a pen light in front of his brown eyes.
"Bellamy." He mumbled.
"Bellamy, please follow the light without turning your head." He did as instructed.
"Clarke, seriously, discharge this troublemaker and I'll get him out of your hair so you can help your mom with Jared and Darrin." Shumway nagged.
"Officer Shumway," Clarke started as she turned and met the officer's gaze. Clarke took one step towards him and Shumway took one step back and gritted his teeth when he realized she had made him look weak. He was actually intimidated by her, "This is my patient. He may be your cadet, but right now I am going to examine him throughly. You need to wait in the waiting room."
"I'm not leaving you alone in a room with him. He's violent, you might get hurt. Then I'd be the idiot who let the councilor's daughter get hurt." He grumbled.
Bellamy's gaze narrowed at Shumway, but didn't say anything. Clarke caught the motion, but didn't say anything, "He hasn't attacked me yet, and all he's done is what I asked."
"That's because I'm here." Shumway responded with his hand on his taser. "He knows what is coming to him."
"I think we'll be alright. If he is violent, I can sedate him. Trust me, he isn't my first violent patient and he won't be my last."
"I'm staying." Shumway didn't budge from the doorway.
"Bellamy, please lift your arms straight overhead." Bellamy tried, but the pain shot through his chest and he coughed, which caused the pain to throb through his entire body. Clarke caught him by the shoulders to steady him. Her hands were gentle as she rubbed circles in his back while he tried to catch his breath.
"Okay, I need this off to do an diagnostic scan and inspect the damage," Clarke indicated his shirt. Bellamy looked at Shumway before moving.
Shumway started to come further into the room. He took Clarke by the forearm, "That's not necessary Clarke. Give him his pain med ration and we'll get out of your hair." His grip tightened on her arm.
Clarke glared at Shumway, "No. Let me go." Shumway released her like her skin was kissed by lightning, "I don't know if he has a concussion. He's my patient and last time I checked, do you have medical training I am unaware of?"
Shumway shook his head, "Then let me care for my patient. Back the hell off." Shumway glared at Bellamy and took his post back at the door.
Clarke turned back to Bellamy, "I'm betting you have a broken rib or two." Bellamy nodded and tried to drag the shirt over his head, but he flinched and his whole body tensed.
"Let me help you." Clarke insisted. She could've cut the shirt off, but it was his cadet uniform and she bet that they didn't have those laying around a lot. Clothes were worn until they were unusable. And being a cadet meant he didn't get much of a salary to buy new clothes. She tugged at the shirt and helped him get his arms through without too much trouble.
Once his chest was revealed, Clarke had to hold in the gasp, but she couldn't stop staring. This hadn't been an ordinary scuffle between cadets. Bellamy's chest and abdomen were covered with deep stab wounds. They weren't bleeding much, and that bothered her. Wounds that deep should be welling up with blood. She counted four different deep stab wounds.
Putting on a pair of gloves, she gently helped him to lay down on the examination table, "I'm going to take a look at these okay? Tell me if what I do hurts okay?"
Bellamy nodded and met her concerned gaze. "Thanks." He said trying not to move too much.
Clarke nodded and met his gaze, "It's going to be alright." She said.
Clarke didn't touch the tender lacerations, but she did peer over and look at them and discovered why they weren't bleeding as they should. He had been stabbed repeatedly with a taser wand. The force of the taser wound had cause the initial tear in the skin, but the heat from the taser electrocuting him had sealed the wound shut. Clarke couldn't help it. He had been brutally stabbed four times and yet he wasn't even asking for pain meds, just keeping his eyes closed.
"Okay. Doing the diagnostic. Please try to keep as still as possible." Clarke pushed a button an a portable scannner beamed above the table where Bellamy laid. "Yup two fractured ribs," She explained.
"What happened to you?" She asked as she took a salve and a q-tip and applied it gently to each wound.
"Training exercise mishap. Nothing more." He said through gritted teeth.
"This was more than a training exercise….who-." She stopped talking when Bellamy gripped her hand like a lifeline. He pleaded with his eyes meeting hers and tightened his grip on her hand. Begging her to understand the need for her not to say anything. She understood, but didn't like it. She took Bellamy's hand and helped him to sit up.
"Well. They shouldn't scar too bad, but the bruising will take a while to go away. The broken ribs, however, are going to be a very painful reminder for a good couple of months. I'll tape you up, but if you start to have pain in your chest or trouble breathing I need you to come back in. Understand?" Bellamy nodded.
"Yeah, he understands," Shumway growled from the corner. Clarke took some tape and gaze from a drawer and began to dress his wounds. She then wound the tape around his torso trying to avoid the tears in his skin as best as possible.
"How's that feel?" She asked pressing the last piece into place.
"Good. Thanks Princess." He mumbled.
"Whoops. Missed that one," She reached up and began to tape a non-existent wound. She put her lips to his ear, "You can trust me." She whispered.
Bellamy froze and felt strange sensation spread through his chest. It wasn't pain, he realized it was comfort. Clarke was comforting him and offering him help. No one had ever reached out a hand to him other than to backhand him with it. His breath caught in throat and he tried not to let her or Shumway know how much her offer meant to him. Shumway couldn't know she wanted to help him. It could get her hurt. Bellamy shut down his face to the emotionless guard face he used during training. It was a bored look that showed his disinterest with everything. With the barest shake of his head for a nod, she accepted that he heard her offer of help.
"Thanks Doc. We'll be going now." Shumway took Bellamy by the arm and jerked him towards the door before Clarke could stop them or say anything.
"Fuck." She whispered. Someone had deliberately hurt Bellamy. She hated abuse in any form, but she didn't know what to do. If Bellamy wouldn't report it, she was out of options. She hadn't witnessed the abuse and she was betting the two other injured cadets were the ones who hurt him. But they were worse off, and one was almost completely dead. She couldn't explain it, but that made her smile.
He got his licks in before you hurt him too badly. Good on you, Bellamy. She looked at her examine table and noticed the discarded shirt. She took the material between her gloved fingers and placed it in the disinfecting bin. It was made to clean and disinfect dirtied scrubs that came into contact with bodily fluids. Clarke turned a knob on the machine that made it clean without destroying the material. It came out a few minutes later clean as a whistle.
She made the decision she would return it to him and extend her offer once more. She couldn't save Sam, couldn't save her father, but Bellamy Blake was still breathing and she'd be damned if she gave up on him.
Bellamy eased into bed, more sore than he was before going to the doctor. Shumway had smacked him around a little more. He had earned a black eye and punch to the gut, but Shumway let him off easy since he hadn't snitched.
Maybe you're cut out for the guard after all, Blake. Shumway sneered and left Bellamy on the floor gasping from the sucker punch. Bile crawled up his throat. Not only from the punch to the gut, but because he hated the guard and wanted nothing to do with them, but they had power. And he needed that power to protect O.
Pulling himself up he staggered home trying to keep conscious. Luckily, both O and his mom were already asleep by the time he got in. Jared and Darin would be out of commission for a while. He made sure of it. If he had to defend himself he was out on a mission to let everyone on the cadet team know that they fucked with him at their own peril.
He stripped down to his briefs and laid on his bed and stared at the same gray ceiling he had for 23 years, but when he closed his eyes, all he saw were two ice blue eyes staring at him with concern clouding their endless depths. As he let sleep claim him, he didn't remember why he should've made sure he locked the door.
Arthur's note:
I hope you guys liked my first shot at this. It's been a good long while since I've written any fan fiction for anything, so I'm a bit rusty. Please review.