100 One Shots #4
Disclaimer: I do not own The 100 nor do I own anything on CW.
A/N: I send my thanks to my beta for editing this!
Sick Days
Clarke lay wrapped in furs, her eyes shut tight against the reality she'd been trying to deny. She had all the symptoms of the virus that had ravaged camp for the past week: runny nose, sore throat, pounding headache, fatigue, and a weak stomach. She could no longer refute the truth… She was sick.
She wracked her brain, trying to come up with an explanation for how this could have happened. She was normally very careful, washing her hands after seeing each patient and never touching her face.
With no real medication Clarke knew she'd have to fight this with the natural remedies that Monty and Jasper cooked up. She sighed, knowing she'd have to make a list of the supplies she would need. They'd been depleted after the onslaught of sickness she'd been treating non-stop for the past week.
She coughed, the burning in her throat making her want to cry. She hated being sick, and was too stubborn to tell anyone because she didn't want to be a bother. She was the medic, she still had patients to attend to and this cold had just made things harder.
"I don't have time for this," Clarke croaked, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling of her tent.
She could already tell she was in for a long day as she pushed herself into a sitting position, groaning at the ache in her head. She sniffled, raising her arm to cough into the bend of her elbow. She tried to stagger to her feet, but only managed to fall back into her makeshift bed with a low curse.
Clarke gave up, deciding to try to get a little bit more sleep. She curled up beneath her stack of furs, sighing as she absorbed their warmth. She tried to get comfortable, but it seemed that no matter what position she found her body still felt as though the Ark had collapsed on top of her.
Before she could enter the blissful realm of sleep, her tent flap flew open and Bellamy stormed into her tent.
"Clarke, you should have been up two hours ago," he bellowed, "What are…."
Bellamy's words trailed off when he glanced down to find Clarke with her hands over her ears and a grimace marring her features. She grabbed a pillow, throwing it at him with a growl.
"Lower your voice, Bellamy," she said, her voice raspy and strained although it did nothing to hide the warning in her voice.
Clarke was thankful when he quieted. She propped herself up with one hand, rubbing her eyes tiredly with the other. She peeked up at him, his dark gaze searching her features intently as a look of confusion entered his eyes.
"You're sick," Bellamy stated finally, earning a dramatic eye roll from the blonde.
"Am I," she deadpanned with a sniffle, "I hadn't noticed."
Sarcasm dripped from her nasally voice, and she immediately regretted it when she looked up at him again. His dark brown eyes had narrowed, and his hands now rested firmly on his hips. She sighed, not in the mood for yet another famous argument with Bellamy Blake.
"Very funny, Princess," Bellamy said mockingly.
Clarke fell back onto her bed of furs with a sigh, "I do try."
She cleared her throat, trying to gain some semblance of her normal speaking voice back, but to no avail. Her throat was too scratchy and raw, making her cringe. Clarke really hated being sick.
"Why didn't you tell me you were sick," Bellamy asked, coming to kneel beside his co-leader.
Clarke looked up at him, so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his body and see the flecks of gold in his velvety brown eyes. She tried to put some distance between them, not wanting him to come down with what she now suffered with.
"Bell, you should leave," she said, ignoring the look of hurt that passed over his features, "I don't want you to get sick. One of us has to keep the kids from killing each other."
Clarke's attempt at a joke fell flat, her breathy laugh turning into a chest-rattling cough. She rolled onto her side, her lungs burning feeling as though they were about to be expelled from her body.
She suddenly felt a warm hand on her lower back, rubbing soothing circles until her coughing eased. She turned back over, refusing to look at Bellamy because she didn't want to see the look of pity she knew must be shining in his eyes. Instead she threw her arm over her eyes with a sigh.
Bellamy watched her, his gut clenching at the sight of her face so drawn and pale.
"Come here," he said, resting a hand on her arm.
Clarke shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, "No."
However that word held no meaning for Bellamy. She stiffened when she heard him rustling about, his jacket falling to the floor and his boots following soon after. Then he was crawling in beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest.
"Bellamy," Clarke bit out, weakly trying to wiggle out of his hold.
His arms tightened, and her head fell to his chest. Her struggling ceased when his heartbeat reached her ear, the steady thump relaxing like nothing she'd ever known. He smelled so good, like the forest after a warm rain.
"See there," Bellamy said, his tone amused, "You don't have to be so stubborn Princess."
Clarke held back a moan as his fingers carded through her hair, the action so comforting and so unlike Bellamy that she almost wondered if this was some kind of fever induced hallucination. She sighed into his t-shirt, nestling further against his chest.
"Get some rest, I'll be here when you wake up," Bellamy said, his voice rumbling softly as he kissed her forehead.
"I can't," Clarke said, her mind once again running through the list of things she had to do, "The others need my help. I've rested long enough."
She coughed again, her breath stolen, leaving her wheezing and sore.
"I don't think so," Bellamy said, his hand moving up and down her back in a soothing motion, "I'm not risking anyone getting sick. You need to stay in bed."
"You could get sick," Clarke retorted, her body once again assaulted by another wave of hacking coughs.
"I trust you to take care of me," he said smiling into her hair, "I'm going to get you some water first though."
"That's probably a good idea," Clarke said, closing her eyes and denying how much she missed his warmth when he was gone.
As soon as the tent flap closed, she knew that this was her chance. She rose on shaky legs, whimpering at the loss of warmth as she dressed as quickly as she could under the circumstances.
After she'd finished she took a deep breath and walked from her tent. She needed to keep busy today, she had no time to lie around no matter how heavenly that sounded.
Clarke didn't make it very far before she began to cough again, garnering odd looks from the campers she passed on her way to the drop-ship. She pushed past the parachute and looked around at the mess.
The floor was covered in dirt, and the cots were unmade. Supplies were haphazardly thrown here and there with no regard to order. She sighed as she began to slowly try to clean up their makeshift infirmary.
It only took Bellamy ten minutes to realize that Clarke was no longer in her tent. He went through camp shouting her name, kids scurrying out of his path. He was about to explode when he suddenly caught sight of the drop-ship.
Clarke heard his loud, angry footfalls before she even saw him. She was in no mood for this. He should have known that she wouldn't just stay put. She had things to do, and since when did she listen to him anyway.
Bellamy's lips formed a thin line as he glared at the few unfortunate souls who found themselves caught between he and Clarke. They quickly ducked their heads, leaving the drop-ship quickly.
"Really," he said, his jaw clenched and his hands once again moving to his slender hips.
Clarke gave him a look that clearly said 'buzz off' before slowly pushing herself off the floor where she'd been rearranging jars of herbs. She rose, turning her back to him as she began to make one of the empty cots.
"Clarke," Bellamy said, a clear warning in his tone.
She spun to face him, realizing too late that it was a terrible idea to move that quickly. The world around her began to spin, and she tripped over her own feet as the ground rose up to meet her.
Before Clarke could hit the floor, Bellamy's arm shot out and caught her, pulling her close against his chest. He gently lifted her chin, searching her eyes.
"I'm fine, Bellamy," Clarke said, her voice coming out weak and rough.
She cringed at the sound, trying to pull away. Bellamy's arms only tightened and she found herself unable to escape.
"No, you're not," he said with a frown, "You're so stubborn! If can't push yourself like this Clarke!"
Suddenly she found herself in Bellamy's arms as he carried her from the drop-ship.
"I take it you misplaced my water," Clarke said, smiling weakly as her head lolled onto his shoulder.
Bellamy didn't appreciate her joke, his grumbled response angry and a little harsh. She shook her head, not protesting as he carried her back to her tent, but not failing to mention that she'd told him she didn't want to be stuck in her tent all day long. He didn't answer, simply ducked to enter her tent, placing her gently on her bed.
"I'm going to get some water," Bellamy said, giving her a pointed look, "Stay."
Clarke watched as he left, then slowly removed her boots and jacket before crawling beneath her blankets. Bellamy returned shortly with the water, holding the cup to her lips as she drank greedily.
After she'd had her fill, he set the cup aside and crawled in beside her. He was warm as she snuggled against him, too tired to resist any longer.
"Sleep, Princess," Bellamy said softly, pressing a kiss to her golden hair.
Clarke couldn't help the smile that twitched on her lips at the feeling of hand that she'd just captured with her own, and the warmth that seeped into her body from his.
The next couple of days felt like years to Clarke. Bellamy demanded she stay in her tent to rest and relax. He screened all of her visitors, and the whole came was warned that she was not to be bothered with a problem or disturbed when she was resting. He'd even posted Miller outside her tent to insure that his orders were followed.
The blonde made it her mission to annoy Miller until Bellamy got back, and poor Miller looked forward to that moment every day. She would then smile innocently at her co-leader as his second ran for dear life.
He entered her tent, a crease between his brows and annoyance clear in his dark eyes.
"You must be feeling better."
Clarke might have laughed if not for the raspiness in his voice that he'd tried to hide. She frowned, moving to lay a cool hand upon his forehead.
"Now who's sick," she asked, "I told you that you shouldn't be around me, but nooo you just had to take care of me!"
Bellamy glared at the blonde as she pointed at the bed, "Now I get to take care of you," she said, her blue eyes softening.
He complied, settling beneath the furs as Clarke lay down beside him. He grunted, pulling her against him as his body relaxed.
"So far, so good," he said, burying his face in her hair with a contented sigh.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please go and check out my new co-written story Kingdom of Shadows!
-Lin
