two.
By the second day, you've changed your mind. Being alive actually kind of sucks, because it hurts. You remember the pain from before, when you were really sick, but only in a blurry, hazy sort of way. This pain is sharp, and mean, and you almost miss being unconscious.
The good news is, the raging infection has loosened its hold on you, thanks to the totally disgusting seaweed tea Clarke keeps coaxing you to choke down. The bad news is there is still an actual hole in your chest.
You're halfway propped up in your nest of other people's clothes, which is marginally better than lying on your back. Clarke's sitting cross-legged next to you, cupping a handful of berries. They smell sweet, and your stomach turns. You haven't eaten in - you don't even remember the last time you ate, you should be starving, but there's this aching, pulsing throb in your chest, where the spear went in, that pretty well distracts you from everything else.
"You need to eat something," Clarke tells you. She's been crying, but when you asked what was wrong she wouldn't say. You know that something bad has happened, you know because when your friends talk they keep their voices low and don't look at you. You're injured, not stupid.
"Not hungry," you manage, clenching your jaw because otherwise you think your teeth will rattle right out of your skull, you're shaking so hard. You don't think you could keep food down if you tried. Clarke does that thing where she presses the back of her hand to your forehead, like she's checking your temperature, in case the fever crops back up. She's still worried about you. You're still worried about you.
When you sleep, it's fitful and restless, and you wake up tired.
Note: I don't think that they would have told Jasper about Wells dying right off the bat, especially because they believed that grounders killed him.
Also, the chapters get progressively longer as they go on. I think Jasper would still be sleeping a lot so soon after such a serious injury.