8: Chapter 8: I remember
Disclaimer: Still don't own a thing…
It's been a long time since I posted but don't worry, I am still planning to make this long story. I was in the middle of moving, but now that I'm settled, new chapters will be updated regularly. Yay!
Recap: "Hey Miller, I think I know how to help Clarke," states Monty excitedly.
I feel relief rush into me in waves and am unable to answer him, that's okay though because he rushes into the hut not awaiting my reply, Jasper on his heels. I look over at Bellamy who now has his back to me. He turns to face me and composes himself, "Look Miller, I trust you and I know you're good for Clarke, I'm not going to give up on her, I want you to know that but I need you as my friend, so truce?"
"Truce." I respond before we both turn to go to Clarke, unsure of the outcome but hoping, always hoping for the best.
Clarke: POV
I remember everything. I remember the cold dirt floor, my constant companion. I remember feeling blow after blow, and digging my fingers into the ground until my nails bled, trying to hold myself up. I remember the glowing coals coming towards me glowing brighter, remember the boiling of my flesh as they were arranged on my skin. I remember every hit, every blade, every word, everything. My own personal hell on constant circulation in my head. I remember Finn. When we were taken he was confident that our people would get us back, I didn't have the heart to tell him they weren't coming. I knew Bellamy and he wouldn't want to risk lives on a suicide mission to come get us. I understood that he was doing what was best to protect the many, but it became harder and harder to believe that as the hours turned to days and then weeks, until time ceased to exist and there was just pain and fear. The worst moment was watching Finn lose his spirit, the thing I loved most about him. "They're not coming for us are they Clarke?" he asked me one night after a particularly nasty beating. It broke my heart when I had to say what we both knew, no, they aren't. The next morning I woke to find him cold and still the remnants of his shirt tied around his neck. He had abandoned me, like Bellamy, like my mother, like Charlotte and Wells. Why could they take the easy road, why was I the one who remained? The grounders refused to remove Finn's body for days, they laughed when they saw him, I understood the word coward come from their mouths. He haunted me, the smell of his rotting corpse sickened me. I didn't sleep for days. I remember things I wish I didn't. Then I remember a bush, and a face devoid of war paint. I remember safe arms and a warm voice telling me to breathe. I remember someone I'd do anything to get back to.
Present:
After overcoming their initial shock at seeing Clarke, both Jasper and Monty set to work helping her.
"We need to cut away the infected flesh, then cauterize the wound!" breathed Monty, gasping from his run. Octavia turned panicked eyes onto Bellamy who has just walked in with Miller, they both looked tousled and she thought it was odd.
"Bellamy I can't do this, I'm not strong enough, Clarke could do it, but I can't," she ended her words on a sob.
"I know O," he turned to Monty, "Do you know what you're doing? Can you help her?"
Monty squared his shoulders bravely, remnants of fear still in his eyes. "Yes," he said, "for Clarke."
Bellamy nodded his head and they moved to set things up, Monty washing his hands with alcohol and then putting the blade in the fire like he'd seen Clarke do for Jasper. When everything was ready, they were all silent. Five teens who had become adults, and then family, afraid but determined. The first incision made them all wince and when Clarke tossed restlessly Miller moved to her side to hold her shoulders still. "Monty hurry it up, I don't want her to wake up before you're done," he whispered desperately, his eyes never leaving her closed ones. Monty nodded and proceeded to make quick yet neat work of the infected flesh. Once he was done he poured alcohol on the wound liberally to kill any other infection, and wrapped Clarke's side in fresh bandages. While he was at it he looked over her other wounds and when he made his way to the abrasions on her face he began to weep silently and excused himself from the tent, Jasper fast on his heels. Octavia stepped forward and covered Clarke in a blanket before putting a comforting hand to Miller's shoulder and turning to go. She could sense he needed to be alone with Clarke. As everyone left Miller and Bellamy took up their silent posts, one on each side of Clarke so that even unconscious, she would not be alone, she would be protected.
She slept for two days, only waking to drink water and then her head would lull back into sleep. On the third day when her eyes finally opened, alert and coherent she turned her head to find Bellamy asleep on one side of the drop ship, and Miller asleep on the other. Slowly as to not aggravate her wound she stretched her hand toward him, his fingers encircled hers even asleep, and she smiled to herself over this. That he would remember her.
The next chapter will be a bit more upbeat with Clarke getting reacquainted with the camp, and getting acquainted with the two protective men in her life. I hope you guys enjoyed it, it got a little dark, but I hope the ending softened it for you Happy reading!
