That night Raven slept like a rock. In the morning, she got up wearily and sipped out of her flask of water. She knew if she drank a lot, she'd just throw it back up. She moved about slowly as a headache pounded in her temple. Raven pulled on her pants, then put her brace on, pulled her shirt over her head, and started walking toward the lab.

"Hey wrench monkey," Wick greeted her as she put on her oxygen mask. They were almost done with the project, and Raven was looking forward to not having to wear so much equipment.

"Raven, you don't look very good."

"Nice, Wick."

"You just look really pale. Is this about the fumes? I can finish the project by myself, if you need me to."

"Just shut up and hand me the damn pipe wrench."

Wick did so, watching her closely.

Two hours later, Raven was piecing together a few parts when everything began to shift about her. She looked around the room, hearing a peculiar roaring noise, and things seemed to go dark as she felt herself fall to the ground.

"Raven!" she heard, rather muffled.

She opened her eyes, seeing that she was in the med bay. Raven tried to say "shit," but it came out as a small cough.

"Oh, thank god," Abby's voice came from somewhere Raven couldn't see. She felt weak, and didn't want to move. The doctor came into view, kneeling beside her.

"What happened?" Raven asked wearily.

"You passed out. You've been unconscious for six hours. I put you on an IV because you're dehydrated, but you need to eat something."

"I'll just throw it back up."

"I've got some broth for you. I just want you to try."

Abby helped Raven sit up more, propping her up with the blanket.

"Do you feel like you're going to pass out?"

"No."

The doctor pulled out a flask and poured some broth into a tin cup, handing it to Raven. The young woman hesitantly brought the cup to her mouth, taking a tiny sip and waiting.

"How's that?"

"Fine," she said, taking another small sip.

"That doesn't have a lot of nutrition in it, so I want to get you eating more, but at least it's a start."

Raven was about to take another small sip, when she felt bile rising in her throat.

"Abby-" she said, covering her mouth with her hands, and dropping the mug, which spilled down her stomach and onto the cot.

The doctor quickly shoved a bucket into Raven's lap, and the girl threw up for several agonizing minutes. When it was over, Abby took the bucket away, and Raven lay back, exhausted. She was sweaty but cold, and for all the world, the only thing she wanted was to be able to ingest something without throwing up. Abby mopped up the spilled broth while Raven hiccuped, then shuttered, trying not to throw up again. She was too exhausted to be embarrassed when she began to cry.

"Raven, do you want me to try to-"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Maybe Lincoln knows of some herbs that could make me stop puking. I… I want to keep it if I can."

"Okay. I'll go talk with Lincoln about it right now. Do you need anything."

"No."

"Raven, does Octavia know?"

"Yep. I told her yesterday."

"Okay, good. That'll make it easier."

Abby left a bucket within Raven's reach, and left to find Lincoln. An hour later, Raven awoke from dozing as a cool washcloth wiped the sweat from her brow. Octavia was sitting on the edge of the cot.

"Here," she said, bringing a mug of steaming liquid toward Raven.

"No," she managed despite her scratchy throat.

"It's tea made with herbs Lincoln and I gathered. It'll help, I promise."

Raven parted her lips and took a tiny sip from the mug Octavia brought to her lips. It was spicy and sweet, and not entirely terrible. Raven waited to see how it settled. Her stomach gave a small gurgle, but did nothing to indicate it wouldn't accept the herbal beverage.

"Do you want more?"

She nodded ever so slightly, and Octavia brought the mug back to Raven's lips again.

With much coaxing and a few threats from Octavia, she finished the whole mug, but wouldn't eat anything. She couldn't keep her eyes open any longer, and again fell asleep.

Her dreams were wrought with calls of her name. Some of them sounded like Octavia, some like Abby, and some like Wick. None of them disturbed her slumber. She dreamed for what seemed like forever; nightmares from Mount Weather, of grounders chasing her through the woods, of being held back while a baby (her baby?) was taken from its crib by grounders.

"Raven?"

She tried to wake up, but she couldn't. She dreamed on. Her and Wick were building a new Arc, blasting back off into space. Clarke was killing Finn, over and over again. She was in space, floating, nothing around her.

"Raven?" She felt someone shaking her slightly. She couldn't wake up. She was too tired. Too sick. She melted back into her dreams. The grounder princess and Clarke were both taking turns cutting her with their knives, laughing at her screams. Finn was dead. Wick was dead. Everyone was dead.

Thank you for reading and please review! I love comments and ideas, so send them my way.