Bellamy stood tied to the large tree. His hands were starting to bleed from the raw hide digging into his skin. He didn't feel much of the pain anymore. The only pain he was considered about was hers.
Clarke was a bloody mess across from him. Tied in a similar fashion she stood on weak knees. Ice Nation had declared war and they were prisoners of war. If only he hadn't left with Roan to try the different route. Then they both wouldn't be in this mess. Roan had lost control of his clan and now they were paying the price.
Clarke sank to her knees from the blood loss and the beating. The Ice Nation warriors had taken pleasure in beating the mighty Wanheda to a bloody pulp.
"Bellamy, how's it going with the rope?" Clarke wheezed out.
Bellamy sighed in relief just to hear her voice, she was still conscious, although he wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. Unconscious she might be in less pain, but he wasn't sure she would wake up again either, "They're pretty secure. Yours?"
She sighed, "Same. Damnit." She growled and tugged feebly at her restraints. They were expertly tied and any hope of escape was very slim.
"Got any bright ideas?" Bellamy asked keeping a look out for more warriors. The latest batch of brutes hadn't shown up, which he had a sinking feeling was the plan. Tie them up to some trees, steal the humvee, and leave them while they high tailed it to Polis.
"I'm thinking." Clarke snarled back. The pain in her side and her face was throbbing. She was certain they had at least cracked a rib, if not broken one.
"Okay, if I can dislocate my thumb, it might give me a little wiggle room." Clarke said aloud.
"Break your hand, intentionally? Have you lost your mind?" Bellamy asked.
"Got any other options?" Clarke asked meeting his eyes.
"Could you walk me through it? You're the medic, we might need your hands more." He growled getting ready to do the deed if necessary.
"Unfortunately, you don't know how to do it properly. With any luck I'll still have use of my hand afterwards. Just tenderness and a little swelling." Bellamy nodded, but didn't like it.
Clarke braced herself and felt for her left thumb. She wedged the joint against the tree applied pressure. Her breath whooshed out as the joint popped, but the space gave her a little wiggle room and she was able to pull one hand free. She yanked the other free.
"How bad?" Bellamy asked as Clarke winced.
"Not horrible." She said as she walked around to work on his restraints from behind the tree.
"Hardcore." He mumbled with a smile as she began to work. Just as Clarke began to pull him free he felt a jolt as she fell against the tree behind her.
"Clarke?" He asked frantically as she didn't respond. "Clarke? What happened?" Bellamy strains against the weakened bonds and pulled with all his might. He heard the rope begin to weaken and yanked harder until it felt like his shoulders would dislocate. He felt the blood start to run down his wrists and it made the rope slicker. Just as the pain got so intense he didn't think he could go any further the rope snapped.
He stumbled around the base of the tree and saw Clarke leaning against the base of the giant tree. An arrow was sticking out from her abdomen, she was applying pressure while panting.
"Clarke? Clarke?" Bellamy bent down to help her apply pressure when an arrow whizzed by where his head had been only seconds ago.
"We got to get out of here." He whispered.
"Don't take it out yet." She wheezed indicating the arrow. He nodded and reached under her knees to carry her out. He would've been faster with a fireman's carry, but he couldn't risk injuring her further.
"Hold on Clarke." He whispered and carried them as far away as he could. He got abut three miles before he had to stop. He leaned her up against one side of a large redwoods and took in the lay of the land. There might shelter ahead, but he didn't know how far. They were too far from Arcadia to even risk going that direction. It'd be death by any forest patrols.
But the storm overhead that was brewing could be black rain and if that happened, they were dead. Shelter was the only option. He looked down at her. She was paler than usual and her lips almost bloodless. The arrow was keeping the blood from gushing out of her, but the blood was still trickling slowly from the wound. He needed to seal that, but didn't have much to work with.
"You'll be okay. Hold on just a little longer." He swung her up into his arms and kept going until it felt like he had walked for miles. The sky cracked above his heads and he went to knees and wrapped Clarke, who was still unconscious, in his jacket. It would provide a little protection from the acid rain, but not much. A little protection was better than nothing. When he reached down to keep walking he saw movement to the left. A small rabbit ran off to the right, but the movement had draw his eyes to a small cave. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough for both of them to squeeze in and lay down. He could build a small fire and maybe keep the black rain out.
Gently he laid Clarke down on the cave floor. She was still breathing, but barely. He pulled his jacket back on in case he had to scoot her further into the cave and get closer to the edge of the opening. He could risk his skin with black rain, he couldn't risk hers.
"Clarke?" Bellamy asked hoping she would wake up and snarl at him. Anything was better than this silence.
"Clarke, wake up. I need you to talk me through this. Clarke!" He took her shoulder and shook her softly.
Clarke's eyes opened slightly, "Bellamy?"
"Hey, we're safe. We are in a cave. We should be safe for a little while. I need you to talk me through taking this thing out of you. We have got to stop the bleeding."
Clarke nodded, but winced when she tried to sit up. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down, "Talk me through it first."
"I need to stop the bleeding. I can't see it. I can't tell if it's an artery, blood vessel, or vein was damaged." She winced when she tried to sit up to see the wound on her own abdomen.
"Talk me through this like I'm an idiot." Bellamy said coaxing the stubborn woman back down onto her back.
"Shouldn't be too hard to think of you as an asshat." Clarke growled.
"Well, if you feel good enough to call me an asshat, you must be feeling better, smartass," Bellamy retorted.
The response did what he wanted. Her lips tugged into a small smile, then turned into a grimace when the pain returned, "Is it oozing or gushing blood?"
"Oozing, but the arrow is stopping most of the blood flow." Bellamy said looking at the wound and trying not to think about how much it must be hurting her.
"The easiest thing would be to cauterize the blood vessel once the arrow is gone, but pulling the arrow free may make the tearing of the vessel worse, but if we don't get it out, infection will set it." The truth was, infection or blood los was going to kill her either way, "I need you to understand this Bellamy, the odds of me making it are not good."
"Shut up, that's not happening." He snarled and applied more pressure around the wound trying to stop the bleeding.
Clarke grunted, but didn't shout from the pain. She needed him to believe her next words, "No matter what happens, this wasn't your fault."
Bellamy didn't look at her, he just kept staring at his hands covering the edges of the arrow. He wouldn't meet her eyes. They both knew it was his fault. Clarke may have been the one with the brilliant plan, but he was supposed to be the one who thought ahead. Instead, he followed his gut and trusted Roan, a stupid king who couldn't control his own people. And because of that stupidity he was going to lose her.
"Bell, look at me so I know you are hearing me." Clarke covered her his trembling hands with one of her own, "Please look at me," He raised his head and met her eyes. Even in the face of death, Clarke didn't tremble. Bellamy had been terrified more times than he could count, but Clarke, bleeding out on the dirt cave floor scared him the worst, but she just stared ahead, not afraid. "Tell me you won't blame yourself."
"Me? Blame myself? Nah, not my style." He joked, but tried to hide the pure terror in his eyes. Terror from the thought of losing her. His other half, his best friend. The only person who saw him for what he was, and didn't care. Those other jerks would always see him as factory station, as lesser. He might be one of the hundred, but no matter what, less than them, a foot soldier.
She saw him as Bellamy. Just Bellamy.
"Okay." She took his joke as the only answer she was going to get.
Clarke reached slightly to her right. Bellamy's boot was within reach. She knew where he kept his hidden weapons. She pulled out a small throwing dagger from his ankle. Not much bigger than the palm of her hand.
"Make a fire, and use it to heat the tip of this. Safest way to stop infection is to cauterize the blood vessel and then if the bleeding stops, sew up the wound. It's the best we are going to get out here." Bellamy nodded and began to gather wood to start a fire.
Clarke sighed. She had already lost too much blood and her medical bag was long gone in the vehicle. She was thirsty, which was a bad sign. She needed blood, but she didn't have the tubing to do a blood transfusion and she didn't even know if Bellamy was her blood type. She had already made peace with the fact that she wasn't going to live until tomorrow.
Hopefully, she would pass away in her sleep from blood loss and not make Bellamy blame himself even more. She knew him, he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. Just like someone else I know. She thought with a smile, they were so alike in some ways. She had made her peace when he freed himself. She had frayed the rope as much as possible before slipping down against the tree. He was strong; he would survive. Clarke looked up as Bellamy hovered above her.
She glanced to the right. He had already built the fire and had heated the blade. He leaned back on his haunches and took off his belt. When she quirked her eyebrows he rolled his eye hastily and folded the belt onto itself, "For your teeth, princess." He placed the leather in between her lips and she bit down and nodded as he gripped the arrow. Unfortunately, the arrow hadn't shot through. The tip was lodged in her gut. He was going to have to pull it free.
Clarke nodded again and Bellamy yanked the arrow free. Clarke screamed from behind the leather in her mouth as her back bowed from the pain and she passed out.
Bellamy cauterized the wound as best he could and checked to make sure the bleeding was slowing. Clarke was limp and pale, it disturbed her, the way her body didn't move like it was alive, but he placed his ear against her chest and sighed when he heard a faint heartbeat.
Bellamy pulled out some fishing line from his pocket. He kept it mainly in case of food emergencies. There was usually a stream not too far and fish did in a pinch. Luckily, it was clean and not used. He took the sharp hook that the line was wrapped around and tied one end to it. After making sure the bleeding had completely stopped he began to stitch the wound closed. He wasn't very good at it and Clarke was going to have a gnarly scar from his mismatch work, but it would hold.
Wiping the blood away from her stomach, he pulled what was left of her shirt over the wound to protect it from the elements as much as possible. Leaning against the inside wall of the cave he sighed and watched her breathe.
He looked at his leg. The arrow had grazed him lightly, but the wound had clotted while he carried Clarke. How was it that he got grazed, but she got a stomach wound?
Life sucks.
"Just keep breathing, okay Clarke? Just keep breathing, and I'll get us back home, I promise." There wasn't much room in the cave. He leaned his head back against the rock and closed his eyes. Her left hand was within easy distance of his grasp. He took it and held it lightly between his fingers.
She would never know he was this big of a child. Needing to feel her even as he slept to make sure she was still alive. Her hand felt weird. Looking down he noticed it was the hand that she had basically broken to free herself from the restraints earlier. Bellamy took the bottom of his shirt and ripped a long strip off. He wrapped her fingers in the makeshift bandage. Maybe if he wrapped the fingers tightly enough, the swelling wouldn't be that bad. Shivering, he pulled his jacket around himself tighter. How could a place that was so green be so frigid?
Sighing again he let sleep claim him and hoping that when they both woke up, everything would be a little better.
So this is my new story. Please review and let me know what you think.
