Sabrina leaned sat in a char in the dropship, sorting and grouping different plants and herbs into various, multicolored piles. Monty was fiddling with a series of wires and a couple of thick, silver wristbands that some of the 100 had removed. Or, more realistically, that Bellamy and his cronies had removed.
The sound of the heavy metal door to the ship creaking open made the two teens look up, eyes locked on the dark entrance. Jasper glanced, wide-eyed, at Sabrina. He had let go of the wires and was preparing to stand up.
Her fingers grazed over the small knife in her belt that she'd nicked after seeing it lying on the ground outside of Bellamy's tent (it had been nighttime, and he'd been...distracted, for lack of a better term). The last thing they needed was Murphy and his moronic followers trying to remove their wristbands.
The bitter stink of blood filled the air, and the two stepped back, catching sight of Finn and Clarke carrying a limp body that dripped dark liquid onto the metal floor.
"What the fu-" started Sabrina, stopping as Monty let out a small sound in the back of his throat, taking a step forward. Clark and Finn set Jasper down on a piece of the parachute, Sabrina flicking another light on.
She had to say, Jasper looked like shit. Not like, ugly shit, but someone-fucked-you-up-and-you're-bleeding-everywhere shit. Clarke, who already was proving herself to be a better leader than Bellamy, knelt down next to him and began dabbing gently at the hole in his chest with a once-white piece of someone's shirt. Finn crouched beside her, ripping off a piece of his already-torn tee.
Monty sat silently by his friend's head, face still even as Sabrina walked toward him and leaned down to gently grip his shoulder.
"Hey," she started quietly, avoiding looking at the gaping red spot above his heart, "We need you to keep working on communicating with the Ark. I promise you, Clarke will help Jasper, but she needs you to help us."
After a few seconds, Monty nodded, standing up slowly and making his way back towards the control box. Sabrina did the same, but walked towards the door.
"I'm gonna get fresh water. Clarke, there's a yarrow poultice in the pile of plants next to Monty. It's the green-brown one, spread it on the, uh, you know."
What was she supposed to say, anyway? Slather that paste on the spear-hole in Jasper's chest! Smack that stuff into the fleshless cavity of his body!
Swallowing, she moved outside, turning away from the light of the bonfire and towards the edge of the forest, fingertips grazing the hilt of her stolen knife.
God, it was stupid. A doctor with a fear of blood. She couldn't even look at Jasper's injury; being a doctor was out of the question. It didn't matter that she got a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach when she helped people, or that she had passed Earth Skills at the top of her class: the sight of blood made her stomach curdle, so she would be a worthless doctor.
Turning right at one of the tents on the outskirts of the campsite, she made her way towards the tarp she'd left out before Jasper and company had gone off towards Mount Weather. It'd sprinkled a bit the previous night, so there Sabrina predicted that there would be at least a little puddle of water in the canvas.
Catching sight of the black cloth strung up between two trees, Sabrina picked her way around bushes, fallen branches, and the wide redwood trees scattered throughout the area when she felt a hand close around her mouth.
Another hand clamped down on her wrist as a knife glinted in the scattered light from the fire, another person approaching.
Shaking her head violently, Sabrina bit down hard on the palm covering her mouth, screaming for help as she tasted blood.
"Ow, fuck," grunted a voice from behind her. Murphy. The hand moved to hold a second knife to her throat. "Hurry up, Bellamy," Murphy hissed, blood dripping onto her arm. Sabrina fought back the tightness in her throat as she felt warm stickiness drip down her fingertips.
"You fucking asswipe," she spat, twisting and kicking at his crotch. There was no way in hell she was going to be handled like a piece of meat, all over a stupid hunk of metal. Murphy doubled over, falling onto all fours as he clutched himself.
"Bitch," he wheezed, "Fuck you." Sabrina whirled around, holding her knife between herself and Bellamy, who was holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
"We just need you to take your wristband off. We can't let the Ark keep controlling us like this. We're stronger than that. I can help you-"
"Really?" she snarked, "You wanna help me?" Her voice grew louder as she took a step forward, ignoring Murphy's gasps of pain. She'd hopefully destroyed his nuts. "You can go fuck yourself, dickwad. Fuck you."
Bellamy smirked, hand brushing over the hilt of his handgun as she suddenly grew very cold. He was a dick, but he wasn't evil. Probably.
"Aren't you a ray of sunshine?" he drawled, sauntering towards her as she took a step back, "It's a shame it's nighttime." Sabrina struggled to keep her face emotionless, refusing to look down at his gun. She wasn't going to fucking die today. Not to-fucking-day.
But what to do? Running directly at him would be moronic; he'd be shooting at point-blank range. Running away would be her last resort, as she was probably faster, but he had that damned gun with him. Perhaps someone had heard her screaming. Yeah, that was it. Someone must have heard all the noise she made when Murphy was-
Murphy hadn't been making any noise for a while.
Murphy.
A pair of cold, blood soaked hands wrapped themselves around her neck and wrists as he looked over her shoulder at Bellamy
"You bitch," he growled, glaring impatiently at Bellamy, "Hurry."
"I've got no rush," grinned Bellamy, "She'll take it off." Sabrina snorted, unable to contain her distaste.
"Oh, are we listing things that'll never happen?" she replied, voice overbearingly cheerful as she smiled widely, "In that case, your sister'll hug you and tell you she loves you after she finds out that you and Murphy assaulted me."
Bellamy's smile instantly melted away, lips drawing together in a thin line as he got into her face.
"Octavia is none of your business," he snarled, voice dangerously low. She'd struck a nerve, and, as she always did, would proceed to exploit it.
"Mm, so O doesn't know that you're forcing people to take their wristbands off," she mused, slapping a thoughtful expression onto her face. Bellamy's clenched jaw fed her snark; she knew pulling out his nickname for Octavia had worked. "I wonder, just wonder, what she'll think when I show her these." She tilted her neck slightly to show Bellamy the finger-shaped bruises on her jugular, watching his face slacken.
"You won't be telling her," he replied softly, pulling out a knife. Shit. The almost peaceful look on his face meant she'd taken it too far.
"Telling her what?" piped up a voice from behind her. Bellamy's eyes widened imperceptibly as he slipped the knife back into his belt. He tilted his head microscopically at Murphy, who released his chokehold on Sabrina. Wheezing, she turned around, catching sight of Finn. "You took a little longer than expected, Sabrina," he grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as she walked next to him.
The two started slowly back towards the dropship, Sabrina's hand still on her knife as she waited for Murphy and Bellamy to attack. Finn's hand rubbed her shoulder soothingly as he leaned his lips down to her ear.
"We're in view of the others. Relax," he added evenly, smiling at another girl. Perfect. She turned around, waving cheerfully at Bellamy and Murphy as they watched her and Finn walk away. Finn snorted, holding the door open for her as she paused at the entrance.
"That was-thanks," she stuttered, suddenly unsure of what to say. He'd just saved her life, just saved her from dying, from game over. What do you say to that? Finn flashed her a grin, still relaxed.
"Anytime."