Whew. I hope everyone's okay after that last chapter. These next few chapters are bumpy and filled with angst, so prepare yourself.

Also, to clarify, the reason Raven wasn't listed as confirmed dead last chapter was because of the odd place I decided to put the chapter break. At the end of the chapter, Clarke is running away still and the explosives haven't gone off (so, Raven is technically alive). When the explosives go off, that will change. I hope this makes sense! Sorry for any confusion!

Warnings: blood, angst, getting sick/throwing up

Enjoy!

Chapter 38: Fly Away

Day 8 in the arena

By the time the explosion went off, Clarke was running away from the building. The ground shook and she could feel the heat hit her back. Pieces of rock rained down on her from above, stinging her skin as they whipped against her. She let out a startled yelp and nearly went tumbling to the ground. Bellamy still had his hand hooked under her elbow, pulling her along.

Raven was gone. She sacrificed herself so they could live.

So many emotions flooded her. She couldn't save Raven. She couldn't save her friends.

Her heart felt like it was breaking over and over again.

She abandoned Raven. She left her friend to die, just so they could escape. She told herself over and over again that she wouldn't save herself when she could save her friends. She promised herself that she would do anything to keep them safe.

And she failed.

Raven had died for them. And for what? Just so Clarke could get killed tomorrow by the Capitol? Just so Bellamy could sacrifice himself for his sister?

Clarke was a mess of sorrow, grief and anger.

Why did she do it?

Raven could have lived. She could have gone on to win the Games. Instead, she went into the building to set off the explosion. She sacrificed herself so they could get away.

Clarke wanted to scream in anguish. Her throat felt tight, like she could barely breathe. She could feel blood running down her fingers from where her nails dug into her skin painfully. She could feel the blood of her friends dripping down her chest.

They were gone. Monty jumped in front of Raven to protect her. Lincoln died giving them a chance to escape. Raven sacrificed herself so they could live.

Three of her allies.

Three of her friends.

She didn't think she felt that kind of pain before. It was so similar to Wells, but yet so different. She had just met her allies two weeks ago, but she loved them. Somehow, they grew close and grew together in hell.

Raven and Monty were the first people to show that they cared. They were two of the first tributes she spoke to at the tribute parade, and the first people that joined her alliance. Without them, her alliance never would have happened. She never would have been able to accomplish all that she did, both in and out of the arena. They helped train her, helped protect her, and help bring joy and happiness in the darkest time of her life.

And they were gone.

Her mind was stuck on them, spiralling around and around.

She could still clearly remember how bright Raven was during the tribute parade, her face snarky as she dissed her stylist and her costume. Monty was so quiet when they first met, but they understood each other. She remembered the first moment she knew how kind he was; he came up to her after the parade to apologize for accidentally insulting Wells. He was too kind and too pure for their world.

Clarke quickly blinked back the tears. She needed to watch where she was running. Not only were they trying to escape the Careers that had found them, but they also needed to stay away from other tributes that were likely hiding in the city.

Raven became one of her closest friends in the arena. Sure, she loved her other allies, but the mechanic was always there for her. Her humor and her talent never ceased to amaze Clarke. She lightened the group, even though death was a cloud hanging over them.

And Lincoln. She didn't know him as well as the others – he was quiet most of the time – but he was a good man. And he was a family man. He had sisters back at home that were watching the Games.

Oh, gods.

They had been running for blocks when Clarke felt the world around her tipping. She felt like she was going to throw up.

And she did.

She tripped over her own two feet, sending her tumbling to the ground. She landed roughly on her side, tiny pieces of rubble digging into the palms of her hand. She turned to the side and emptied the contents of her stomach.

"Octavia, grab her. We have to-"

"Shut up, Bellamy!" Octavia snapped. She rounded on him, her finger pointing accusingly at his face. "There was an explosion. Nobody could have survived that – not even the fucking Careers. We can take a break for Clarke to feel better." Her voice sounded pained, more than Clarke had ever heard it before. Clarke knew she was thinking the exact same thing as her; nobody could've survived that explosion. Raven wasn't coming back. Lincoln wasn't coming back. Monty wasn't coming back.

"Then how come there haven't been any canons?" Bellamy asked. He kept pacing around while Clarke leaned on her side, Murphy bouncing in his arms. The younger man had his head lulled backwards and his hands loose at his sides. He looked sick.

Octavia dropped to her knees beside the blonde and pulled her hair to the side. Even though she was younger than her, Clarke felt like a young child being comforted by a mother in that moment. Octavia gently rubbed circles on Clarke's back, trying to calm her churning stomach.

"No, he's right," Clarke rasped. She swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. "We have to keep moving." Her eyes flicked to Bellamy. His face was set in stone as he stared at her. Murphy groaned loudly from his arms. "Is he okay?"

"No." Bellamy's jaw twitched and his eyes softened. "Are you okay? You fell hard."

Octavia's face softened as she examined Clarke. "Can you get up?"

"I'm fine," she answered both of them.

It was true. Other than the taste of acid in her mouth and the emotional turmoil inside of her, she was fine, miraculously. She could feel blood running down her face from the attack, and she accidentally cut her skin with her nails, but she was fine.

She was alive.

Clarke got off the ground and dusted her hands off on her pants. Tiny rocks dug deeper into her skin, but she ignored the pain. If they were going to live, they had to keep going.

She walked over to where Bellamy stood with Murphy. He tried to catch her eye, but her eyes were locked completely on the boy in his arms, his face twisted in pain and his skin clammy.

That wasn't right.

An arrow to the abdomen wouldn't effect him this strongly. Plus, she knew he still had some of the medicine from the Capitol still in him. He shouldn't look this sick.

She could hear Bellamy talking to Octavia, but she turned them out. She was focused on Murphy, panic rising in her.

She couldn't lose him. She couldn't lose another friend.

No. She wouldn't allow it. She had lost three others today; she couldn't add a fourth to that list. She refused to let Murphy die.

She was going to save him if it was the last thing she did.

Her friends sacrificed themselves so they could live and she was going to make damn sure that would happen. The four of them – Bellamy, Octavia, Murphy and Clarke – were going to survive until the ends of these Games.

For them.

For Raven. For Monty. For Lincoln. For Wells.

Clarke glanced at the arrow. It looked like it was a deep hit, which wasn't good. If she remembered anatomy correctly, the arrow didn't look like it hit anything important. It wasn't near any major organs, which was good news. She could work with that.

She wasn't too sure why this arrow was affecting him so much, but she knew they had to do something quickly. For all she knew, her anatomy could've been off and something important could've been hit. Her eyes snapped up to meet Bellamy's. He fell silent as he saw the panic in them.

"We need to get somewhere safe." Seeing how serious Clarke looked, Bellamy jumped into action. His face fell back into the mask he was wearing as he shouldered Murphy.

"We're close to our shop," he told Clarke. She paused and examined the streets they were running in. She didn't recognize them, but she had to trust Bellamy on this one. He was always good with directions. "We can get there in five minutes."

"And the Careers?" Octavia pushed. Clarke shot her an annoyed glance. "Hey. I'm not saying we don't find somewhere to operate on Murphy, but what if they're watching? What if they're waiting until our guard is down?"

"I don't care," Clarke said harshly. She wasn't mad at Octavia – she was mad at the world. As soon as she snapped at her, her face softened. "I'm sorry. I-"

"Don't worry, Clarke. I got it." Octavia's smile was tight.

She turned to Bellamy. "It's our only option. I have to get to work on him." Bellamy looked at her for a long moment before turning back to Murphy.

She knew it was risky, but they needed to do this. If the Careers were watching, they would have to deal with that later. For all they knew, they could have died in the explosion. She knew Lincoln had died and she hadn't heard his canon yet. She knew Raven died, but there wasn't a canon for her either. What if the Careers had been wiped out?

"You're right. We don't have another option." His jaw muscles twitched. "Let's go."

Bellamy took off running in a slightly different direction, Clarke and Octavia trailing after him. Clarke wrapped her arm around Octavia's shoulders, trying to keep her steady and at the same pace as them. She was sweating and breathing heavily. Clarke felt bad for making her run so soon after such a terrible injury, but that was the only way they could survive.

She tried to make a plan to treat Murphy. He survived an arrow before, only a week ago. He was strong and he could tolerate pain well. Plus, if she knew her anatomy right, the arrow hadn't hit any major organs.

She kept chanting that in her mind, as if it would miraculously cure him.

He could survive this. The only reason he was clammy and faint was from the blood loss and being close to a fire. There wasn't any other explanation to his extreme reaction to the shot.

And while he wasn't alert, he also wasn't knocked out. Once again, she blamed it on the blood loss.

She didn't have time to contemplate it. Bellamy turned down a familiar street and she caught sight of the abandoned shop only a few shops away. Clarke's heart jumped to her throat.

They were there not even twenty-four hours ago, yet it felt like a lifetime had passed. So much had changed. So many things had been lost.

Clarke pulled away from Octavia, sprinting to the door. Once again, she was thrown into high alert. She doubted anyone would have come in to hide in the store in such a short time after they were there, but she couldn't be sure. The Careers found them, after all. Anyone could be anywhere.

She glanced around the familiar room, feeling a twinge of pain when the scent of faint smoke hit her. She could see their blanket still bunched in the corner where they sat only a day before. She could see their black tops hanging on the rack closest to the back corner – the clothing that they wore while they waited.

She pushed her thoughts aside. That was then, this was now. She couldn't dwell on the past and how much simpler it was. She couldn't focus on the fact that her life had been torn down in the last twelve hours.

The last time she entered that room, her friends were still alive.

No.

She couldn't think about that. She had to save Murphy. Once he was stabilized, she could mourn and grieve and think about what the hell happened to get them in this situation.

With those thoughts, she wondered why she couldn't get the image of Raven out of her head. She could see her eyes so clearly, like she was still standing right in front of her. She had the whole weight of her body thrown against the metal door, using all of her energy to keep it closed. Her body flew off the door every time Ontari slammed into it from the opposite end. She was shaking from the effort of pushing it closed each time.

She was afraid to die. She could see it in her eyes. But she was so determined to do the right thing – to save her friends. She was scared, but she wasn't conflicted. She was sure about what she needed to do.

She was a warrior. Even when she was scared beyond belief, she was strong, confident, and determined.

"Is it clear?" Octavia rested her hand on Clarke's shoulder, making her jump. She was startled back into reality.

Raven was dead. She needed to make sure the shop was safe to enter.

She could see Octavia's eyes piercing into her, evaluating her, but she ignored him. She turned to the rest of the shop, her eyes scanning over all of the objects. Just as she suspected, nothing was moved from the last time they were there.

They were alone.

"Clear," she announced, stepping fully inside. She glanced back at Murphy and her mind went completely numb. Years of training and practice flooded into her as her emotions bled out of her.

If she was going to do this, she had to be composed. She couldn't think about the fact that she lost most of her alliance. She couldn't think about the fact most of her friends were dead.

She had to ignore the pain she felt inside of her, eating away at her like rats on a hot summer day. She couldn't think about Bellamy and how he ripped her away from the burning building. She couldn't risk thinking about the stakes if she did something wrong while working on Murphy.

Because she had to save him. It wasn't a question. She refused to lose another friend that day.

She had to ignore all of her emotions and push all of her thoughts away. There would be a time that she could process and deal with them.

It wasn't now.

Now, she had to focus on saving her friend.

A cloud came over her and her heart filled with a certain hardness. She felt numb and distant, like she wasn't truly in her body. Her mind already formulated a plan to stabilize Murphy enough to get to somewhere safer. Once they were safe and after she could monitor his vitals for a while, she could treat him better.

She'd do this exactly like last time. Remove the arrow. Sterilize. Stitch with the floss. Cauterize if needed.

She did that exact same procedure twice in the past week. She could do this. She could save him.

"Bellamy, put him on the cash desk." She wasn't too sure exactly what it was called, but it was the only desk that was still standing in the store. It stood several feet away, an empty cash register beside it. Clarke walked towards the desk and wiped off a thick layer of dust before Murphy could be set down. "Octavia, get the backpacks. Look for any medical supplies and all of the water."

"All of it?" she sounded hesitant.

"All of it," she confirmed. "Water, sterilizers, bandages, floss, the sewing kit, gauze… Whatever you can find."

Bellamy walked up beside Clarke, dropping Murphy onto the table in front of her. She unclipped her backpack and handed it to Octavia. Next, she unzipped her jacket and threw it to the floor.

She glanced it him, a frown on her face. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat and had a grey tinge to it. His clothes were drenched in a mix of blood and sweat. His eyebrows were furrowed and his jaw clenched, indicating he was in pain. His face was looked translucent under the poor lighting. His eyes kept fluttering open every few seconds, only to fall closed again.

Clarke pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. She brushed some of his long hair out of his face while she monitored his temperature.

He was warm. Really warm.

That wasn't normal. Not even for someone who had just been shot with an arrow. She expected his temperature to be slightly higher than usual, but this was too much. He was burning up.

"O, help me barricade the door."

Bellamy was already walking towards the clothing rack that he moved with Clarke just the day before. Octavia quickly met him at the door and helped him drag the metal rack to block the entrance. With the closing of the door, all of the light was blocked from the room.

"Bellamy, candles. Light as many as you can find. I'll need the light."

Clarke couldn't see much in the dark, but she didn't have any time to waste. She pushed up her sleeves to her elbows and pulled her hair back into a quick knot.

The room came back to life as soon as Bellamy lit the first candle. The flame flickered, making the orange light dance across the walls. The shadows seemed to move on their own, crossing the room back and forth.

"I have sanitizer," Octavia said as soon as she could see what was in her hand. The girl passed it to Clarke and continued to dig through the bags. Bellamy continued lighting candles and positioning them around the room while Clarke drenched her arms with the sanitizer.

As Clarke was lathering her arms, Murphy let out a loud groan and she froze. Under the candle light, she could see his back arch and his head be thrown back. His groan of pain was animalistic and chilling.

He was in pain; she could see it in every one of his movements. But there was something else there, too. He was burning up, but shaking from the cold. This wasn't right.

Something was wrong. There was something she wasn't seeing, something she was missing.

She pushed that thought out of her head. She couldn't know what was wrong or what she could do to help until she got working. Once she could see what was going on with his wound, she could treat him. She just had to work faster.

"We'll need hot water," Clarke added. She glanced at Octavia, a small grimace on her face. "Please." Octavia didn't look offended by Clarke's lack of manners. Instead, she nodded her head and tossed Bellamy another package of matches.

"You do the fire, Bell." She continued digging in the bag, not bothering to look at her brother for too long. Clarke didn't look at him for long either. As she readied herself for her procedure, she was just thankful that more and more light filled the small room.

She had to save him.

That was the only thought running through her mind. She couldn't let him die, not when she could save him. With the others, they died instantly. Wells was dead before she noticed he was stabbed. Monty died immediately from a spear. She wasn't too sure how Lincoln died, but she didn't hear any of his cries, so she assumed it was a fast death too. With Raven, she could never be sure, but she hoped her death was quick and painless.

She couldn't let him die.

He let out another groan of pain and Clarke took a deep breath. While it wouldn't be pretty and it would be painful, she could save him. She would get his wound bandaged and then make the call about his fever.

"Octavia, find anything else?" she asked as she ripped Murphy's shirt open.

Clarke tugged on Murphy's ripped shirt, lifting it away from his skin. She managed to avoid jostling the arrow as she ripped it up and off his body. She left his arms covered by the material, to try and stop him from shivering. The material was sticky and hot, covered in his own blood. She hid her emotions behind a mask as she examined his injury.

The skin around the wound was inflamed and sweltering red. She pressed her fingers gently to the skin surrounding the arrow and frowned when she felt how hot the flesh was. He let out a hiss as she touched it.

Without responding to Clarke's question, Octavia dropped several medical items on the desk beside her. The sewing kit, several packages of bandages, a single roll of gauze, a pack of floss, and antiseptic were all that were left of their large haul from earlier.

Clarke nodded and a sense of hope washed over her. This was good. Really good. They could work with what they had. This was more than what they had when she removed the arrow from Murphy the first time.

"Thanks. I'll need a really hot knife," she told her. Before she could say anything else, Octavia was already on her way over to the fire, a small knife in her hand.

Clarke glanced back at Murphy's wound, a familiar feeling settling over her. She had been here before. She could do this. She could save him.

Remembering how much he screamed last time, she searched for something for him to bite on. She bent down to the floor to pick up a crumbled blue shirt. She balled it up and positioned it between Murphy's lips.

His jaw had gone slack and his eyes were blinking slowly. When his eyes were open, they weren't focusing on anything. Sweat was running down his head, making his hair wet and stick to his skin. She had never seen him so pale before. Even his lips were starting to look blue. Clarke pressed her hand to his forehead. He was still burning with a fever.

"Murphy," she called gently. "You're going to have to bite down on that, okay? I'm going to be working on you. You can't scream." She hoped he remembered the drill from the last time she operated on him. He couldn't scream, otherwise the other tributes would know where they were. He had to stay as silent as possible.

He still screamed the last time they did this, even after she told him not to. She didn't blame him – not one bit – but she knew he was a screamer. Now, she would be working on his abdomen, on a deep wound. If he couldn't help but scream before, she knew he would have to scream now.

"Murphy, just… try, okay? Try to stay as quiet as you can. I know it'll hurt. It's going to be bad – so bad. I'll try to be as fast as I can, and I won't have to ever operate on you again. I promise." His eyes weren't focusing on hers. "Okay?"

"Raven."

Her mouth went dry at his desperate plea. His voice was hoarse and raspy, just like he inhaled a bunch of smoke. It was weak too, which was to be expected. What chilled her the most was what he said.

He was asking for her. He was asking for Raven.

Clarke's heart broke. Between the chaos on the roof and losing three of her friends, she nearly forgot about that final moment between Murphy and Raven. They kissed. And now she was dead.

"Bellamy," Clarke called out, her voice thick with emotion. She cleared her throat and blinked rapidly several times to clear away the tears. "Bell, you need to sit with him, okay? Watch him. Distract him."

"Raven." Murphy's voice had grown stronger, more determined. His eyes were blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust to the world around him. Clarke's heart broke. "Raven? Where's she?"

"She's not here," Clarke felt herself saying. Her mind had gone numb.

Did he know that she was dead? Not likely. He got shot long before he was pulled off the roof by Octavia. He was already on the ground before Raven even offered to set off the explosives. He didn't know she was dead.

Somehow, that made it worse.

She wanted to tell him the truth, she did. She wanted to tell him the truth about everything. She wanted to let him know that Raven died for them – that she sacrificed herself so they could live.

But she couldn't.

Murphy needed something to hold onto. He needed hope and strength if he was going to get through this. What would happen if he found out that their friends died? What would he do when he found out the one person he connected with most – Raven – was murdered? That she was gone and never coming back?

So, instead, she lied.

"Raven's busy," Clarke told him softly. Her heart ached. "Bellamy will be right beside you the whole time though, okay?"

"No. Need her." He licked his lips and blinked lazily. "Please."

Last time, she helped him through the surgery. She clutched his hand tightly and talked him down from the pain. Even when he struggled to breathe from the overwhelming pain, she had been beside him, talking him back to their world.

She'd been the one that connected with him the most over the last week in the arena. They cared about each other in ways Clarke hadn't originally thought, but made perfect sense.

And now she was gone.

"She'll be back soon, I promise." The words tasted like poison on her tongue.

She wouldn't be back soon. She wouldn't ever be coming back.

But he needed hope. He needed something to hang on to.

"I'm going to start," she announced. Briefly, she made eye contact with Bellamy. Under the candle light, he looked frightened. His eyes were wide as he watched her movements, his lips stretched thinly across his face. He was already clutching Murphy's hand with his own, anticipating his cries.

Clarke realized with a heavy heart that the Blakes never witnessed Murphy's first operation. Everyone who helped him survive that first injury was gone now. Dead.

It was just her and Murphy left from their original group.

Before she could think about that any more, Clarke wrapped her hands around the arrow. She remembered that the arrows the Careers shot at them as they ran weren't barbed or hooked. It would be a simple removal, just like many nights ago, after the bloodbath. It would be a simple tug and then she could get to work.

She glanced at Bellamy, sending him a pleading look. She hoped he understood what she was trying to say. She was going to start and it wasn't going to be pretty.

Then, she pulled the arrow from his abdomen. His eyes flew open in shock, his body growing rigid from the pain. She could see his mouth open up in a silent scream and his fists clenched tightly. Bellamy rocked forward, hovering his face inches away from Murphy's. They locked eyes.

"Hey. It's going to be fine, okay?" Bellamy began talking before Murphy could start screaming. They both knew that his silence would break soon. She wasn't even sure his silence was by choice. The pain that filled his body probably made it impossible for him to scream. "We're all right here, Murphy."

"Octavia, you'll need to hand me things as I work," Clarke muttered as she glanced closely at his wound. The young Blake took the arrow from her hands, and examined it. "I…" Her thoughts slowed to a stop when she noticed something.

It wasn't good.

The wound had already begun to swell and blister. The skin was red and warm all around where the arrow hit.

She pulled her hand back from the wound, frowning when the blood on her fingers felt different. It was thicker than usual. She was surprised that she could tell, but she had to chalk that up to how many times her hands had been covered in blood in her lifetime. She could even see it visually with her eyes.

No. No, this wasn't right. This wasn't good.

Panic set in her bones.

Clarke pulled away from his wound and turned to Octavia. The young girl still held the arrow in her hands and was staring at the tip in horror. Their eyes met and for a brief moment, the world stood still.

"Poison."

Clarke swallowed thickly and she felt a crushing weight hit her.

The arrow was poisoned. Murphy was poisoned.

"What?" Bellamy asked, his voice panicked. He reached for the arrow and brought it to his eyes. After only a few seconds of examining it, his face fell. Octavia didn't wait for him to confirm what she already found out.

"Clarke, that arrow had poison on the end of it." Clarke ripped her gaze away from Octavia's dragging it back down to Murphy.

His symptoms fell into place. The swelling, the fever, the pain, the thick blood. It was a poison of sorts, coursing through his veins, impacting every inch of his body. It was spreading further through his abdomen. She wasn't sure what poison was on the arrow, but it wasn't good.

Clarke tried to run through what she remembered about poisons and how to treat wounds caused by them.

She didn't remember much.

District 6 didn't have any poisonous animals around, and people were skilled enough to not eat poisonous plants. The only time she ever encountered poisoned people was when something went wrong in the engineering bay and a chemical was consumed.

But she had seen similar things to this before. She could figure it out. She had to.

Poison. There had to be an antidote, right? She didn't think a poison would be created without there being an antidote somewhere in the world. That would be the easiest way to heal him.

But they didn't have the antidote.

Most likely, it would be with whoever used the poison on Murphy. The Careers would have it, or hidden it, or destroyed it. She didn't have any hope in finding it in time to save him.

She'd have to do something else. What could she do?

She glanced down to the pile of medical supplies. Her heart felt like it had fallen into her stomach. She wasn't too sure what she could work with from that pile. Sure, those items were good for sealing wounds and stitching up cuts, but they weren't very useful when it came to curing poison.

Clarke could think of a million different ways for how this could go wrong. It wasn't a hard task to do.

What was hard was thinking of one way this could go right.

She didn't know what to do to treat him without the antidote.

"I- Uh-" She swallowed thickly. Her tongue felt heavy and awkward in her mouth. "I don't know how to treat this." Her eyes met Bellamy's. He looked scared. "Please tell me you know how."

He frowned. "No." Murphy let out a wimped of pain below him. He turned back to the man on the table. "Hey, it's going to be alright, okay? Just relax. Focus on something else."

"I don't either, Clarke," Octavia said. Her face looked as broken as Clarke's heart felt.

Clarke felt like crying. She didn't know what to do to fix him. She rubbed her hands together vigorously, willing an idea to come to mind.

It didn't.

"We need the antidote," Clarke determined. "Octavia, check the backpacks. It'll probably a tiny vial with a needle."

She sent her a sombre look. "I went through all the bags and pulled out everything that wasn't food," she said. "Clarke, I-"

"Check again," Bellamy insisted. Octavia left Murphy's side without another word. "Can we heal him without it? Won't it just leave his system?"

"I don't know," she said.

The whole situation was becoming too much for her. She didn't know how to help him and he was dying. She felt like if he died, it would be on her. She was the one with medical training. She was supposed to know what to do in situations like this. She was the one that was supposed to be able to fix people, no matter what.

She was failing them. She couldn't remember how to treat poison without the antidote. She didn't know how to make his pain go away.

Oh, gods. He was going to die.

"Just think," Bellamy insisted. "You can figure it out. You can-"

"No I can't, Bellamy," she snapped. She rounded on him, unshed tears in her eyes. "I don't know." Her voice cracked with emotion as she spoke. "I don't know what to do to fix him. I know nothing about poison, and, even if I did, we don't know what type was used on him." She lifted up a bandage and shook it angrily. "All we have is this and some dental floss, Bellamy. How the hell am I supposed to remove poison from his body with that!?" She chucked the bandage back down on the table.

"Nothing," Octavia confirmed. She walked back over to her side of the table, placing her hand gently on Murphy's face. Her frown deepened. "He's burning up."

"It's the poison," she confirmed. "I've never seen anything like this before. I don't know what to do." She took a step away from the table, doubling over slightly. She felt like she was going to get sick. "Oh, gods, I don't know what to do." Tears were building up in her eyes, begging to fall down her face. She tried to blink them away, but they went tumbling down her cheeks.

They were silent as Clarke tried to regain her composure. Murphy kept letting out several long groans. He was in pain and dying and she couldn't help him.

She thought through her years of training, trying to pin point something that could help them in that situation. Nothing had prepared her for this. In every situation back home, she had the proper supplies. She always had the right medications and she knew all of the common injuries. Poison wasn't a common thing in District 6, but, if they got a case, they could treat it easily.

"Okay, let's all think," Bellamy said quickly. Clarke sucked in a deep breath and pushed all of her reservations to the side. She straightened up and walked back to the table, a stone cold expression on her face. She felt numb. He reached out and grasped her hand lightly. "We aren't putting this all on you, Clarke. We all can think."

"Yeah," Octavia agreed. "We're a team. We just need to think outside the box."

"We don't have the supplies. We don't know how to help him. What's something that could be done, no matter the injury?" Bellamy's hands were clenched as he ran through different situations.

Clarke's heart stopped as she remembered something.

The red seaweed.

She thought back to one of the first nights she was in the arena. They were all out of water. They were slowly dying of thirst. Wells and her had decided to head back to the city centre in search of water, and bring it back to the group. Instead, they found a lake covered in red seaweed.

"It's identical to the stuff back home, even though that was lighter red. Dad used it for everything back home; teas, sunburn ointment, and even if we got a tiny cut, he would always put it on us. One time, I got bit by a snake out there and we weren't close to any medical facilities. He made a tea, made me drink it, and wrapped it around my leg," Wells said.

"And it worked?"

"I'm still here, aren't I? My dad said it worked like magic or something, I don't know." He brought it to his nose and sniffed. He pulled a face. "Yup, this is it. I couldn't forget that stench even if I tried to."

Clarke remembered that smell too. It was a mix between mould and onions. It was terrible and putrid, scorching the inside of her nose.

If it could cure snake venom like Wells claimed, maybe it could work with Murphy.

"Clarke? What is it?" Bellamy questioned once he seen her stunned expression.

She turned to him, nearly breathless. "There's red seaweed in all of the lakes in this arena," she explained. "Wells told me that it saved him from snake venom once, back home. I – uh – I think maybe we could use it to save Murphy." She gave him a desperate look. "It's all we have to go on."

"That's great, but we aren't around any lakes," Octavia pointed out. Bellamy was looking at Clarke, equally as stunned as she was.

"There is one," he said. "Yesterday, when Clarke and I got here, we both seen the edge of the forest. Beyond the tree line is a lake. Do you think it'll be there?"

"It's been at every lake I've seen," she said. "The water was tinted red at that lake. It has to be there." Murphy let out a deeper groan and his head lulled to the side. That was the breaking point for Clarke. This was the only option they had. "I'm going to get it. Watch him until I get back."

"No!" Octavia snapped. She was already moving back around the table, her face set in stone. "I'm going. You're needed here Clarke. Just tell me what I'm looking for."

She briefly glanced at Bellamy, gauging his reaction. It was risky to be out in the arena alone, never mind right after an attack, and never mind Octavia, who was barely upright. The Careers could've tracked them to the shop. She would be alone and defenceless, and she still wasn't healed completely from her own injury. She could barely walk.

"Do it." Bellamy's voice was hard and emotionless. "What does it look like?"

With Bellamy's assurance, she jumped right into explaining. "It's a red seaweed. It was very leafy and came in clumps. If you break off one of the larger branches and smell it, it'll smell absolutely awful. It's a mix of mould and onions." Octavia nodded her head. She picked up a knife from the ground – Murphy's – and reached for her own sword. Without turning around, she headed for the door.

"Got it."

Bellamy left Murphy's side, going to the door to move their barricade. The two siblings glanced at each other for what could've been the last time.

"Be safe."

"You too."

Then, she was gone. As soon as she took off into the night, Bellamy closed the door and let out a loud huff.

Now that she had a plan, Clarke jumped into action. She reached for the water that Bellamy had set to boil in the water bottle, pulling it off the flames with a cloth wrapped around her hands. She reached for their second bottle, poured half off, and set the remained of the bottle to boil.

She'd clean the wound first as best as she could and get some water into him. Hopefully Octavia would be back by then, where she would boil half of the seaweed to make a tea. The remainder, she would use for bandaging his wound.

She didn't know if it would work, but it was the best chance they had.

Her train of thought was broken with Murphy's loud cry of pain. His head hit the table roughly and the bunched up shirt rolled from his mouth. Clarke went racing back to him, quickly followed by Bellamy.

Murphy let out a scream, sending a chill up Clarke's spine.

"Hey," Clarke whispered as softly as she could. She leaned over his face, trying to catch his eyes. They kept fluttering open every so often, but would never focus on her. He looked like he was seconds away from passing out. She swore under her breath. "Bellamy, keep him awake. He can't pass out. I need him up to monitor him."

"Murphy, can you hear me?" Bellamy took her place at Murphy's side, leaning over to stare him right in the eyes.

She raced back to a pile of clothes and grabbed the thickest sweater she could find. As she ran back to Murphy, she balled it up in her hands. She gently lifted his head up and placed the cloth under him. If he slammed his head again, it would be on something soft at least.

He let out a loud and painful moan. Clarke reached towards the damp shirt and grimaced.

"I'm sorry. I know this is shitty." She rolled it up and pressed it into his mouth to muffle his cries. She turned to Bellamy. "Keep him awake and keep him quiet." Before he could respond, Clarke was already moving again.

She quickly poured part of the boiling water into the second water bottle, careful to not burn her hands. They had enough problems already, they didn't need their only medic getting injured.

She left the water to cool at the side of the desk and began cutting strips of gauze. Once the tea was made, she would need to use that for bandages.

As she was cutting the fifth strip, Bellamy called for her. "Clarke!" His voice had an edge of panic to it. "He's not breathing!"

She swore and dropped her knife. Bellamy was right, Murphy had completely stopped breathing and his eyes were wide, locked on his. His lips were parted in a silent scream.

"Get him on his side!" she commanded, rushing up to him. She helped Bellamy roll him onto his right side, expelling fluid from his mouth. His eyes locked on Clarke's. It was chilling, looking into the eyes of a dying man. Clarke rubbed gentle circles on his back, and spoke softly. "Good. Just breath, okay? It's almost over. Good."

He shuddered as he sucked in a breath. "Clarke," he rasped. She smiled and nodded her head.

"It's me. Bellamy and I are here. You're going to be fine, okay."

"What about Lincoln? Octavia? Raven?" Clarke took it that he remembered Monty dying on the stairs.

Just hearing him ask about their dead friends sent a chill to her heart. She broke eye contact and looked up at Bellamy, hoping he could provide an answer.

"Don't worry about that," he told him. "Focus on breathing, got it?" Murphy's head jerked up and down, in what Clarke assumed to be a nod.

"Cold." His body let out a shiver. Clarke pulled a nearby blanket over him, covering his exposed upper body.

"I'm going to clean your wound, Murphy. Okay?" He mumbled something that she couldn't understand.

She reached for some of the antiseptic Octavia had left on the table and a strip of gauze. As she cleaned, his teeth clenched and the shirt muffled his screams. Bellamy gripped his hand tightly.

"Just listen to my voice, okay?" She could hear the panic and pain in him as he spoke. "I don't think I ever told you about how I sprained my left pinky once." If the situation wasn't so serious, she would've laughed at how ridiculous the injury sounded.

"Octavia was young still, and had the absolute worst temper. Seriously. She was such a brat." Murphy didn't laugh at that, but he quieted down. "She loved to throw her stuff around our house. She and I shared a room, you know. We weren't the wealthiest people in our district, so our house was relatively small.

"One night, she was being a real brat. She wanted to keep reading while I wanted to sleep, and she refused to turn off the light. I got up to go tell mom – classic Bellamy, by the way, always tattling on her – and she threw her book at me. I blocked it before it could reach my face, but it bounced off my pinky. Sprained it. It was terrible.

"And, you know the thing that kids do when they injure a sibling? You know, when the one who got hurt starts crying, and the other one all of a sudden becomes their best friend? Yeah, that was Octavia.

"She ran to me and tried to get me to be quiet by the loudest shush I ever heard. She kept pressing tiny kisses to my hand because kisses always make it feel better.

"The funniest thing was, she tried to get me not to tell mom so she wouldn't get me in trouble, by offering me ice cream. I hate ice cream."

"And you didn't tell mom," Octavia recalled, entering the room again. Clarke was so exhausted that she didn't even jump. "Got it." She held up an armful of the red seaweed and rushed towards Clarke. It was perfect timing – she had just finished cleaning his wound.

"Good." She took a bunch of the seaweed and stuffed it into the bottle of boiling water. "You can put the rest on the table," she instructed.

A heavy silence filled the room as they waited for the seaweed to boil. Murphy's groans filled the air. Octavia slipped next to Bellamy, peering into his face.

"How is he doing?"

"Not good. Clarke, how's the tea coming?"

She didn't bother answering, as she brought the freshly boiled water off the fire. She poured some into another bottle and handed it to Octavia.

"Let it cool before giving it to him."

Clarke stuffed some of the pre-cut gauze strips into the liquid and pulled them out. She hoped that it would work. She could tell the poison was spreading, by the way his groans were getting louder and the more he was shaking. They needed to act fast.

She placed the gauze into in wound once it was cool enough. As soon as she did, his eyes flew open once more. She tried to tune out his screams of pain as she tried to get the seaweed to cover his wound. For what felt like the millionth time, she wished Wells was with her in that moment. He had seen the seaweed in action before. He understood how it worked, unlike her.

"It's cool, Clarke," Octavia said, referring to the tea. "I'm going to give it to him, okay?"

"Good. Thanks."

As Clarke worked, she could hear Octavia coaxing Murphy into drinking some of the tea. He sputtered as it went into his mouth. She knew from first hand experience that it smelt bad, she couldn't imagine the taste.

When the gauze turned red with blood, she replaced it with a new one. When the water was cool enough, she poured it over his skin. Murphy's screams had turned to whimpers and sobs. She hoped that was a good sign.

After she worked for a while, she left a bunch of seaweed and gauze wrapped around his torso. Bellamy was still talking to Murphy, trying to distract him, and Octavia was trying to feed him tea. She examined him, hoping for better results.

It was worse.

His eyes were bloodshot when he opened them, and he felt even hotter. His clothing was completely soaked through with sweat and his limbs trembled. Spit ran from his mouth and dribbled down his chin, getting lost in the mix of sweat on his collarbone. His hair was dripping onto the table below him.

"Let's wait," Clarke said after a moment. "Let's see if the seaweed helped at all. I'm sure it'll bring his fever down." Octavia set the empty water bottle down and pulled away from the table. Murphy continued to sob.

"He's not getting better," Bellamy said, his voice tired and strained.

Clarke wondered how long it had been since the explosion. While it felt like it had only been minutes, she knew it was more accurately hours.

"Give it time."

This chapter was originally almost 15k, so it's been split into multiple ones. Hopefully that explains that sudden ending to this chapter!

TRIBUTE LIST: The bolded ones are the tributes that are confirmed dead from this current chapter. If a character has died in a previous chapter, they will be removed from the list. If you forget who has died in a previous chapter, feel free to ask me or look back at the notes of previous chapters!

District 1 Female: Ontari
District 2 Male: Bellamy
District 2 Female: Octavia
District 3 Female: Raven
District 4 Male: Cage
District 4 Female: Luna
District 5 Male: Murphy
District 5 Female: Echo
District 6 Female: Clarke
District 10 Male: Dax

I was really nervous to post the last few chapters (and I still am nervous about them) because I hate killing off characters. I love these guys with my whole heart and I adore writing for them. (Good plan, Paw. Write a fanfiction for The Hunger Games, where only one character can survive. I clearly planned that well!)

Reviews are appreciated!

Paw