There be spoilers

Chapter 6 – Conflict & Beans

"And you say this was a kid's?"

Clarke nodded. "Yes, he could have been no more than fourteen."

Bellamy was sitting on a stump, a wooden ball in his hand. He tilted his head on the side as he rotated it, listening to the sound it made. There must have been something inside or something. They didn't have that kind of instrument on the Ark. Luckily enough; they were a little more evolved than that. He sighed and gave it back to her.

"Do you think we should worry about him?" the young man asked.

"No, he seemed to be comfortable in the woods." She thought back about the way he disappeared amongst the branches, above her head. "In fact, he is a good climber."

"I'm not talking about helping him, but protecting ourselves… Was he close to camp?"

"Not close enough that he could have known about it. He was afraid of me. He won't come around here."

"You don't know that!" he retorted, quite bluntly. She cared about the group – he knew that from what she had been ready to do to save Spacewalker – but she was too kind. She wanted things to be resolved peacefully, even though it weren't always the case. At least, he was confident she could act under pressure. The grounder and Atom had given her the chance to prove it.

Bellamy blinked.

"Maybe he saw you…"

"What do you mean?" A surprised Clarke asked.

"Maybe he spied on us, maybe he was there when you…" He couldn't bring himself to say that she killed him: the fog did. With clenched jaws, he quickly looked for a euphemism. "… helped Atom."

"How did that come to mind?"

"Why would a grounder brat be afraid of you, princess? He must have seen you do something scary. Killing someone seems to fit the bill." He was a bit angry because she didn't come to him as soon as she came back. Instead, he had to go to her, asking where she had found the instruments a few people seemed quite excited about – Jasper and Monty most of all. However, Bellamy couldn't help but feel he had been a bit harsh with her, reminding her of Atom, at least before she retorted something with her usual strength of character:

"Well, he is a grounder brat like you said. He probably saw more disturbing things than euthanasia." She shook her head. "No, there was something else. He was looking at my hair."

Bellamy looked at her perplexedly. "What? Blondes are instinct?" he asked with a sarcastic tone.

"I don't know…" She sighed. The handsome leader of the group was starting to get on her nerves, and she'd better check Finn's stiches before it was dark. She shrugged and turned away. To get to the drop ship, she walked past Jasper who was apparently accustomed to drumming, but not to belly-dancing, as he and Monty looked with dropped jaws and widened eyes at one of Bellamy's girls enjoying the rhythm. Clarke looked up, piqued by the fact that even here – where survival was everything – most still had more interest in aesthetics than skills. Those girls could have been taught to collect seaweed, or to make weapons, or whatever… But no, there job was to look pretty and to please the alpha male.

She looked pretty grim when she got to the table they transformed into a makeshift hospital bed for Finn. The fact that the latter was laughing at one of Raven's joke didn't really help.

"Hey," the beautiful dark-haired mechanic said with an honest smile. She had traded her bitter attitude for a grateful one after Clarke had saved her boyfriend. That didn't make Clarke feel any better, but she had made a choice, she had to stick to it: it was the right thing to do.

"Hi," the blonde girl replied, placing the ball on a nearby piece of furniture.

She then removed the attempt at a poultice she made with seaweed and looked at the wound. The stitches were well in place, there was no sign of inflammation, the skin was a bit discoloured, but it was all right. Finn did not seem to suffer any aftereffects of the poison or the anti-poison, apart from a constant need to drink probably due to a powerful diuretic effect.

"You really are something," Clarke told Raven jokingly, soon wondering why she would even do that as her prime wish at the moment was never to be in the presence of this couple again. The answer was evident: it wasn't Raven's fault, and she was a valuable part of the group.

"What do you mean?"

"Apparently, you kept him from doing anything acrobatic. Everything looks good."

Clarke heard the girl sigh of relief. With everything that happened, the medical apprentice had almost forgotten to take the time to be happy Finn lived. Just taking a minute to realise he was out of trouble. She felt a bit selfish and looked down.

"Oh, please, talk about me like I'm not even here!" Spacewalker said with a charismatic smile.

Clarke kept her head down, but she couldn't help smiling at his voice. Yes, he was back.

"What's that?" he asked, grabbing the ball.

"Some kind of rattle," Clarke replied. "I tried to open it, but it's no use."

Finn shook the ball. "Sounds like a rumba shaker."

Immediately, Raven seemed to pick up the challenge. "Give me that," she ordered her boyfriend before taking it from his hand anyway. She looked at it closely and ran her nails on the surface. Eventually, she drew her knife. "It must be a tight fit."

Clarke had to force herself not to turn towards Finn and exchange an amused look with him. It would have been as inappropriate as awkward. The double entendre was a lost source of humour between them. She cringed a little when she realised that the unfortunate expression had in fact sparkled a bit of smutty glee between the two of them. For a split second, Clarke felt lonely.

"I mean that it must have been put together with a mallet," Raven explained with a soft laughter.

Even when she was giggling, that girl didn't sound stupid. Jealousy was looming.

"A mallet?" Finn asked.

"A wooden hammer, or even with a rubber head. It doesn't leave a mark." Raven's nimble fingers drove the blade between the two hemispheres of the ball and she tapped on the handle with her palm. There was a small "pock" and it opened. Something spilled on the table, little grains.

"Beans," Clarke commented.

Finn turned his head a little too quickly. "Really?" he asked.

"I didn't know beans could get you so excited, handsome." Raven remarked.

Clarke cringed at the nickname.

"Are you kidding me?" Finn asked, apparently surprised she didn't get why.

"What?" Clarke retorted probably a little more harshly than she would have like. She had no idea herself.

"Whoever made this grows beans, probably other vegetables too. If we can't get to the resources sent from the Ark, we probably should try to get some seeds and start crops of our own."