A/N: Thank you for all the reviews, favourites and follows – the support is really appreciated and I'm glad you're all enjoying it so far! I had a look at the story stats too and was amazed at how many people from different nations had viewed this – so thank you! Let me know what you think of this chapter – I'm writing the next bit already so it'll probably be early in the week when I post next!
P.s: I tried hard with the trigedasleng – doing the best I could from the vocab info online, and making the rest up – so hopefully it's not too awful!
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the characters, events and world of The 100 – that honour goes to Kass Morgan and the writers for the (amazing) TV show.
Chapter Five
Bellamy
The chaos of the drop ship was making him feel claustrophobic, and the irony of that hadn't entirely passed him by. The delinquents milled around, bumping into each other and everything not nailed to the walls, attempting hushed conversations that were anything but hushed.
The minute a fight broke out between two guys and Octavia got jostled in the melee, Bellamy lost his temper.
"That's it. Everyone up to the second level, now!" he bellowed. Bellamy put his hands on his hips and gave them all the fiercest look he could muster. Octavia scoffed and elbowed one of the guys out of her way.
"You heard him," Miller called out in support, "Grab what you need and get up there."
Bellamy turned to Monty, watching the quiet boy hunch over Clarke and gingerly check the wound – lifting up the blood soaked bandage with careful hands.
"How is she?" he asked, walking to their side. Clarke looked ashen under the artificial lighting of the dropship, and had yet to wake up – which was a concern enough in itself. He hoped he hadn't jostled her too much in the journey back to camp.
"Not getting any better," Monty replied worriedly.
"Raven," he hollered, "Any progress?"
"Not yet! It takes time – the wiring is screwed and I had to repurpose some of the circuits when I tried to repair the radio." She was hunched over the table and didn't bother turning around.
The last of the delinquents trudged up the ladder and Octavia pulled the hatch closed, spinning the lock.
"What's going on?" Finn's weak voice broke through the resulting silence.
They all watched as he shook off the head injury that had incapacitated him and peered at them all with befuddled eyes. He was slouched near the drop ship entrance, now closed for the first time since they'd landed to prevent debris from the storm blowing in.
"Nice of you to join us," Bellamy derided. He knew his temper was showing and it was all due to the futility of the situation. He needed to take action and there didn't appear to be anything he could do. He hated feeling useless.
Finn looked dazed, but the memories must have been coming back fast because he bounded to his feet, staggering against the wall for support.
"Clarke!" he exclaimed in abject panic, "Where is she? Is she okay?"
"No thanks to you," Bellamy told him.
No one needed to say anything when his eyes lit upon her seconds later. Finn took a step back, rubbing his stomach as though he felt her phantom pains. He seemed too horrified to approach her – like he was in shock.
"She's dying," Monty wrung his hands together and glared at Finn, "Unless we find a way to fix the radio or get the survival database working, then I don't know what to do to help her. Even then…"
Monty wasn't a medic – he might have watched Clarke work, and he might understand herbal medicine, but Bellamy knew sewing a person back together from a potentially fatal injury was something else altogether. Finn's gaze shot to Raven in the corner, her concentration intense despite the stirring of her boyfriend, and he started towards her. "Why haven't you fixed the radio yet?" he shouted.
Bellamy went to intercede but he wasn't needed.
"Whoa," Miller stood as a barricade in front of her with his hands held out, "Back up."
"When I need a knight in shining armour, I'll send you a job application, hot off the press," Raven grumbled, giving Miller a strange look. She looked around him and glared at Spacewalker. "I've tried, Finn, but I haven't got the parts I need."
That was the second time Miller had taken a protective stance in front of the young mechanic and it made Bellamy curious. Whilst he'd been busy sampling the delights of the liberated girls around camp, Nathan had kept pretty much to himself. The guy was a mystery, but a dependable one.
"What do you need?" Finn asked sullenly. He was faced off against Miller, a tick pulsing in his jaw.
"Something with transmitter components," Raven explained in exasperation, "Pretty much anything electrical would be good right about now."
"This is hopeless," Bellamy admitted his doubts. They were just too ill prepared.
"Wait," Finn started pacing, his eyes on the prone Clarke, "I think I know somewhere that might have what you need."
"Care to share?" Octavia snarked. She wiped perspiration from Clarke's forehead with a damp rag and sent Finn a disgusted look. Bellamy echoed the sentiment.
"A storage unit I found a while back, it's not too far from here." Finn nodded decisively.
"And you didn't feel like telling your leaders?" He was annoyed at the apparent secrecy.
"You're not my leader," Finn scowled, "and besides, Clarke knew."
Finn looked everywhere but at Raven, and Bellamy got the impression it was a secret the two of them had shared for a specific reason. Talk about awkward.
"There's no time for this." Finn strode for the dropship door and slammed the lever down to open it – wind whipped in, blasting the seven of them with frigid air. Clarke moaned deliriously at the disturbance.
"It's alright," Raven shrugged her jacket on, "we'll hurry – hopefully it'll have what I need before it's too late." She eyed Clarke apprehensively.
"Fine," Bellamy nodded in agreement – it was their only apparent option, "But Miller goes with you. Spacewalker isn't all that reliable at the moment and that storm is fierce."
"Whatever," Raven grouched, knocking into him as she passed.
Miller shot him a cocky grin and followed behind her and Finn. "She likes me really."
"We'll keep watch," Bellamy rolled his eyes and then got serious, "I'll keep the doors open for as long as I can. Hurry back."
The three of them trotted off, arms held over their faces for protection. Bellamy pulled the parachute sheets over the door for some semblance of shelter and turned to the others. Clarke mumbled under her breath, her body stirring, and slowly opened her eyes.
"Hey there, Princess," he grinned at her, glad to see her awake again. He walked over and reached out for her hand and she feebly squeezed his palm.
"Hi," she mumbled, then winced when her wound pained her. Sweat beaded her forehead and Octavia gently wiped it away.
Monty leant over her to get her attention when Octavia's ministrations distracted her. She opened her eyes again and looked at him. "I cleaned the wound with the moonshine, and wrapped it to stop the bleeding, but we haven't removed the knife. I don't really know what I'm doing, Clarke." His voice was hoarse with worry.
"It's okay," she smiled gently to reassure him, "You've done what I would have done so far."
"We're trying to fix the radio," Bellamy told her, wanting her to know they had a plan of sorts, "Finn, Raven and Miller have gone to a supply bunker to search for the missing components."
Clarke nodded. "Good idea. You're going to need something to stitch me up too."
"Will wires do?" Octavia asked. Clarke coughed, but nodded her head, smiling at his sister in thanks when she pressed a water container to Clarke's lips.
"You better check with Raven first though," she said a second later, her breathing raspy.
Always the sensible one. Bellamy marvelled at her ability to think through her pain. If he'd been the one stabbed, he'd probably be the worst patient in history. Never mind issuing instructions to his caretakers.
Clarke looked at Monty. "Make sure you use the moonshine to sterilise your hands before you touch the wound."
He nodded uneasily.
"I thought doctors were supposed to make the worst patients," he grinned.
"I'm not a doctor yet, Blake."
"Anything we can do for you, Princess?" he asked, squeezing her hand once more before letting go.
"Got any more of that moonshine?" Her eyes were glassy and Bellamy found her strength admirable.
"What a lush," Octavia joked. She reached for the half empty clear bottle and helped Clarke take a few tentative sips. Clarke winced and laid her head back down. Minutes later her eyes closed and she stilled – if her chest wasn't still moving with every breath Bellamy would have thought she'd died.
Raven
The storage bunker wasn't that far from the camp, but the walk there was about as uncomfortable as she could possibly imagine. One of her companions was dead set on ignoring the impending conversation revolving around a certain injured blonde, and the other was doing everything he could to let her know of his presence. As if she could ignore him with the way he'd been behaving. He was like an annoyingly attractive fly she couldn't swat away.
"It's here," Finn pulled open a hatch in the middle of a grassy mound, and swung himself down.
"After you," Miller gestured with raised eyebrows.
Raven emerged in the dark space and watched Finn hurriedly light some candles in jars as Miller scrambled to join them. It smelt damp and looked like a family had tried to wait out the nuclear war inside, and it at least appeared stocked full of supplies they could make use of at camp. And family supplies usually meant toys, even in an apocalyptic situation – toys could mean electronics.
Feeling optimistic, she grabbed one of the candles from the table by the door and moved over to a couple of plastic containers on a metal shelving unit. Behind her she heard the two boys joining her in shifting through the room's contents. She pushed aside blankets and books, not really paying attention to their titles in the dim light afforded her, but nothing stood out as helpful.
"What about this?" Miller asked.
She turned to see him holding a bright red remote controlled car and her spirits rose further.
"Yes!" Raven cheered, "If we find the controller, then we've hit gold."
They rummaged around some more and she noticed Finn was being unusually quiet in his corner. She approached him warily, wondering what state his mind was in. She'd always felt closer to Finn than anyone else – growing up the way she did it wasn't really a surprise. Finn had saved her – if it wasn't for him she didn't know where she'd be. Or if there would ever be a her. But there came a point when people grew apart – things happened. Like illegal space walks, incarcerations and shuttles to earth. And hard-to-compete-with blondes.
"You okay?" she whispered in his ear, nudging his shoulder.
He moved away from her infinitesimally, but she noticed it none the less and it sparked off the anger she'd been holding back. He was staring down at his hands, holding a miniature two-headed deer made from scrap metal.
"Something on your mind, Finn?" she asked through gritted teeth.
"I gave this to Clarke." He muttered.
"Seems like you gave a lot of things to Clarke." She couldn't help the betrayal in her voice.
"I didn't mean for it to happen," he looked her straight in the eyes for the first time since she'd landed, "I'm not making excuses, Rae, but I thought you were dead. I thought I'd never see you again."
Raven laughed cruelly. "You couldn't have waited more than ten days?"
"I'm sorry." He looked pitiful and she wished he didn't. It was making her sympathise with him and he hadn't earned her sympathy. Not even close.
"Do you love her?" she asked. Internally dreading the answer and knowing it at the same time.
"I love you," he said, looking down.
"But not the way you love her, right?" Raven was getting louder. She heard Miller still and could feel the weight of his gaze.
"Raven?" Miller called. She could hear the hesitation in his voice and it angered her. She couldn't take sympathy right now.
Finn's dark eyes beseeched her for understanding. She understood alright, she understood there was nothing left between them to hold on to. They were just delaying the inevitable.
"Not the way you love her." Raven repeated, nodding her head in confirmation.
She reached around her neck and pulled off her raven pendant. She'd been wearing it proudly for years – a symbol of the love she'd found with the boy next door. But not anymore. She passed it to Finn and he took it from her with a look of regret.
"I deserve better." She affirmed.
"Raven!" Miller sounded exasperated now.
"What?!" she shouted, turning to face him. He held up a black, buttoned contraption with an aerial sticking from it's roof.
"Err…I've found the remote." Miller smirked.
Octavia
They'd been coming out to the guard post to check for signs of the search party's return for the past hour. Octavia was taking her turn on watch when she spied two large figures approaching through the lashing rain. Two, not three. And definitely too large to be the missing campers. The closer they got the more her shock grew. She scrambled down and ran through the muddy camp, lightning illuminating her path.
"Bellamy!" Octavia burst into the dropship, pushing her sodden hair out of the way, "there's two grounders approaching – one of them looks like Clarke's grounder!"
"Is that what we're calling him now?" Bellamy griped, coming to his feet.
"Does it matter what we're calling him? He's here!" Octavia yelled.
Her brother seemed to realise she was serious and withdrew his weapon from it's sheath. He climbed the ladder to the second level, sprung the lock and thumped on the door with the butt of his knife. "Jasper, get down here."
The gangly boy shuffled his way down and immediately looked to Clarke. "What's happening? What do you need?"
"Back up." Bellamy grunted and walked outside.
Octavia skipped after him with Jasper at her side, feeling a little excited at the latest development. Maybe they'd be able to save Clarke where they couldn't. "Sexy grounder dude is back and he's bought a sexy grounder friend."
She laughed at her brother's glare.
"I swear, O. You better quit now." Bellamy warned.
Octavia was already soaked from her watch so the torrential rain wasn't bothering her, but Jasper shivered and pulled his goggles down over his eyes. She wasn't sure whether it was protection from the water, or something that obviously calmed him.
"What do you think they want?" he looked at her nervously.
"I don't think it's an attack," Octavia nudged him playfully, "they were right out in the open. They wanted to be seen."
Bellamy got to the gate before them, peered through a gap in the logs and sheet metal, then yanked it open forcefully. She exited to find him glaring at the two grounders.
She was right – one of them was Clarke's grounder. His companion had long, dark hair, shaved at the sides and braided away from his face to reveal tribal tattoos and a grizzly beard. His eyes were much lighter, and didn't seem as hard. They both looked highly alert, though they held no weapons. Octavia knew their hands were good enough weapons on their own so she didn't relax entirely.
"What do you want?" Bellamy grouched. He'd taken up a defiant stance, with his hands on his hips and his chin raised.
The grounder from the cave stepped forwards and lifted his chin. "Clarke," he grunted.
"Oh!" Octavia exclaimed, unable to help herself. They had certainly got well-acquainted earlier if the grounder knew her name. His dark eyes looked haunted, but fierce. He glanced at her, and then back to her brother.
"She's a little busy right now." Bellamy jeered carelessly. He was playing with fire.
Grounder dude clenched his fists and strode right up to Bellamy – their chests nearly touching, each one glaring at the other with their hands on their stashed weapons. It was like a male gorilla meeting – the testosterone was potent.
"Clarke," he spat again firmly.
"Bell," she interceded, getting weary of the posturing, "I don't think he'd hurt her, I think he's here to help."
"He's the reason she got stabbed in the first place." Bellamy stated.
The grounder growled low in the back of his throat and Octavia knew they were being understood.
She edged closer to her brother – noticing the second grounder stepped forward at her movement too. Jasper shuffled on his feet uncertainly at her side.
"You know that was Finn, you're just being a dick." She told him.
"Will you help her?" She asked the grounder.
His eyes slid away from her brother to meet hers. Ever so slightly, he nodded.
She grabbed Bellamy by the elbow and started towing him backwards. He was a dead weight and her feet slipped in the slick dirt.
"Octavia," Bellamy pronounced every syllable in that highly irritating I'm-angry-at-you voice only family could effectively produce.
"Just trust me, big brother. Can you do that? Please?" she pleaded.
Bellamy looked at her and didn't say anything – she was willing to bet he was grinding his teeth behind that stubborn jaw. He was struggling between his instincts to protect her, and the others, and the desperate situation the grounders might be able to get them out of.
"Close the gate behind them, Jasper," she said mildly, just loud enough for him to hear.
He was easier to move this time and Octavia knew it was because he was trusting her. Bellamy's first instinct was to attack or defend, and her chest felt warm that he'd decided to finally listen to her – finally realise she wasn't a child to be coddled and ignored.
The two grounders followed them into the dropship, their eyes darting about guardedly. She didn't blame them as she was pretty sure their reception upon entering the enemy camp, voluntarily or not, wouldn't be as peaceful. The minute they crossed the threshold and Clarke came into sight, the cave grounder ran straight for her. Monty backed away warily and sent them a bewildered look.
Octavia watched as the grounder ran his hands over Clarke's cheeks – he was achingly gentle and it was curiously beautiful. The way he so obviously cared, and so obviously didn't care that they knew it.
The second grounder – tattoo face, Octavia had decided to call him, approached Clarke's side. He respectfully nodded at Monty, who was still pulling a great impression of a gape-mouthed statue. He withdrew some vials from a pouch at his side and set them down on an assisting table.
Octavia watched as he reached for the cloth around Clarke's wound and began unwinding it. Then he tore away the fabric of her top, leaving her in her bra with the tattered remains fluttering at her sides. When the knife and its entrance were fully revealed he prodded at it carefully – feeling the placement between her ribs with furrowed brows. He looked at Clarke's grounder and spoke for the first time.
"Em bilaik baid, ba ai na fis em op." He stated grimly in another language. Octavia watched them converse, fascinated. (It is bad, but I can heal her)
"Od em op." (Do it) Cave-grounder didn't look away from Clarke, but his voice was stern.
"Emo laik stai oso veida." Tattoo-face said angrily. (They are still our enemy)
"Em laik nai yumi veida!" The reply was abrupt and she watched him glower into his friend's eyes. (She is not my enemy)
"Yu sho?" (Are you sure?)
"Sha, aim sho. Em laik ain." His voice was softer now. (Yes, I'm sure. She is mine)
It was a serious case of bad timing when voices came from outside the dropship. The others had finally returned. This should be interesting – not.
Finn was the first one to come rushing in and he skidded to a stop when he saw the grounders. Cave-grounder growled savagely and leapt for Finn, lifting him up by his shirt front and throwing him backwards. He fell to the floor looking astounded – that all changed the moment the grounder took up a protective position in front of Clarke.
Finn swore and climbed to his feet. "You need to stay away from her."
"Stop," Bellamy shouted, coming between them. He pushed Finn back. "They're helping her."
"Stop being an ass," Octavia growled, "You're the one that hurt her, you don't get to decide who fixes her."
Raven and Miller stepped inside, their eyes wide, and Miller pulled the leaver up to close the door. The sounds of the storm faded away slightly and Octavia could hear Finn's heavy breathing.
"How did you get in anyway?" Bellamy asked them.
"Finn knew a secret passageway," Raven walked around them towards her set up at the back, and was soon absorbed in the mechanics of the radio.
"More secrets, huh, Spacewalker." Bellamy grumbled.
It seemed like Finn could do nothing but glare at them disapprovingly. Octavia wondered why she'd ever found him remotely attractive.
Clarke stirred on the examination bed again and Finn made another attempt to get to her.
"Enough!" Bellamy yelled. "Miller, help me get him upstairs. He's not helping anyone by being here."
Finn fought against the two of them but was out-numbered. Octavia sighed as she watched them struggle to manoeuvre him through the hatch. Once they were out of sight she turned to the grounders. Tattoo-face was watching Clarke, who was awake and staring up into the eyes of her grounder.
Clarke
The sound of fighting shook Clarke out of the half-dreams she'd been having. Her side was a constant ache, feeling hot and swollen, and her head felt stuffy. Somehow she knew the knife was still inside her, an insidious foreign body draining her life away. It took a lot of effort to open her eyes, but she did.
Her grounder was there. Lincoln, she reminded herself. He was so close she shifted her fingers to reach out for him, but he caught her hand to stop her from moving. She didn't know why he was there but she was uncommonly grateful.
"Hi," she murmured, giving him a small smile.
He didn't smile back, but he gave her such an intense look and she knew he was highly agitated. How she knew that she couldn't say, but she felt a connection to him on some unexplainable level.
The metal hull of the ship made an awful screeching sound – the storm outside reaching it's peak.
When someone shifted on her other side she gently turned her head. She wasn't expecting to see another grounder there, standing side by side with Monty. He had light eyes, facial tattoos, and longer, wilder hair than Lincoln, but she could see a deep intelligence in his gaze.
"Hello," she said politely. She knew by now that there was no way Lincoln was letting someone near her who intended to harm her, so this guy must be here to help in some way.
He nodded at her in greeting, then reached for a glass vial on the assisting table. He unstopped the cork sealing the strange yellow liquid and held it up to her lips. Clarke's eyes darted to Lincoln, and at his encouragement she opened her mouth, swallowing the tart contents.
Next she watched as the grounder healer braced the skin either side of her wound and looked to her grounder. Lincoln placed one hand on her bare hip, the other he threaded through her hair, and leaned close to her face.
"He will remove the knife now," he whispered close to her ear.
Clarke nodded that she was ready and closed her eyes.
She felt a sucking sensation and a slice of pain, just as something large hit the side of the dropship and sent them all careening to the floor.
Clarke gripped her side in panic. It was out – the knife was out and she wasn't bleeding all over the dropship floor. Lincoln, who had broken her fall as much as he was able, frantically laid her out and inspected her side. He seemed relieved by whatever he saw and gently lifted her back onto the table. His hands lingered comfortingly.
She sighed in relief and turned to the strange grounder scrutinising the hole in her side. "Thank you."
He looked away from her – reaching out to the moonshine and dousing the wound before pinching the pieces together. It was excruciating and Clarke moaned, feeling faint.
"I'll get wires to stitch her up," Octavia said from somewhere in the room.
"Don't touch the blue ones." called Raven absently.
Clarke must have blacked out, but when she woke her side felt stiff and sore. A quick flex of her stomach muscles told her she'd been stitched together she was mighty glad she wasn't awake for that ordeal. She lay still, breathing deeply and just revelling in the realisation that she was okay. She was going to be okay.
She could vaguely hear Raven attempting to make contact with the Ark – she must have managed to fix the radio.
"Ark station, please come in. Ark station, this is Raven Reyes." It echoed around them but it met nothing but static.
"Are you sure you have the right frequency?" she heard Miller ask.
"Yes, I have the right damn frequency!" Raven sounded beleaguered.
"It's the storm," Monty interrupted their squabble, "It's messing with the connection. We'll just have to wait it out."
The minute she opened her eyes, Lincoln leapt to his feet. She smiled at him shyly – feeling giddy that he'd stayed. She looked past him and around her but could only see the three she already knew were in the room, plus Octavia and Bellamy. The latter of which was watching them attentively.
"Where did your friend go?" she asked Lincoln.
He cleared his throat. "Nyko had to leave before the storm passed. He helped out of respect for our brotherhood bond, but he cannot be discovered here. He would be considered a traitor."
"What about you?" she asked, regretfully, "Do you have to leave?"
"I am not going anywhere," he assured her, his voice deepening, "I would rather be a splita – an outcast, than do that."
Clarke searched his eyes, seeing nothing but resolve. She worried though, about what it would do to him to be outcast from his people. It felt like a lifetime ago that she first saw him, knelt over her in the dark at the base of that ravine. But he meant something, and down here, on the ground, she was learning that you kept the things that mattered close or you lost them.
"I don't want you to get in trouble." She told him, her eyes conveying her sincerity.
"It is too late for that," Lincoln smiled down at her, "but I will find a way to make things right."
"I'd be real interested in how you plan on doing that." Bellamy intruded.
Clarke sighed in frustration and turned to her co-leader. He had that half-demonic look in his eye that signalled nothing but trouble. It was going to be a long night.
