Thanks for the kind reviews from those who did! It's great to know that people are interested in continuing this story (-: Apologies for any grammar mistakes, I generally write the chapters in one go because inspiration hits in random bouts, and I am not as meticulous because I'm more relaxed as it's just for enjoyment.

Clarke POV

"BELLAMY!" The screams tore from my throat as I stumbled toward the edge of the decline, Jasper hot on my heels.

"Clarke be careful!" He warned, grabbing my arm before I plunged over the edge.

Thankfully, the drop itself wasn't particularly far nor as steep as I had first assumed, but since neither of them had been prepared for the fall, the thought didn't comfort me in the slightest.

"We have to go down and get him!" I said immediately, dropping my legs over the edge and carefully lowering myself down.

Jasper didn't argue, and cautiously moved down the rocky hillside beside me. Rocks and stones dug into my back, I could feel them cutting into my skin and my palms. Suddenly, a bunch of stones gave way beneath my feet and I began to slide downwards quickly, scrabbling with my hands for something to clutch onto. My heart leapt into my throat and I just managed to hook my fingers around a thorny branch just before I fell face first into the dust. Jasper dropped to the ground beside me, helping me to my feet, his worried eyes flickering to a dark lump.

Bellamy and the grounder were lying a little way off, the grounders still body, covering Bellamy's. There was no sign of movement. My hands began to shake and my heart felt as if it had come to a standstill, I almost vomited.

We staggered over and Jasper hauled the grounder's body off, dumping it onto the ground and pressing his fingers to his throat, "Dead." He stated, relief colouring his tone.

But I wasn't paying attention, my fingers desperately sought Bellamy's throat, pressing into the cool skin, my own heart practically re-starting when I felt the flutter of a pulse, "He's alive!"

I exhaled heavily, pressing my hands to his cheeks, to his forehead, his warm freckles suddenly stark against his pale skin, "Bellamy? Bellamy, can you hear me?"

"Shit Clarke," Jasper's panic sent a knife of dread through my skin, "He's been stabbed."

The knife had evidently come free in the fall, but dark blood was beginning to stain the navy material of his shirt, a long thin hole visible just above the wound which sliced the skin just above his hip.

I examined it briefly, "It doesn't look too deep, but he's losing blood Jasper, we have to get him back immediately."

Jasper's eyes met mine and I knew that he didn't think Bellamy would make it.

"Clarke—" he started quietly, resting a comforting hand on my arm, "I think it'll be too late, look at his skin, and the movement of getting him back to camp is not going to help."

I clenched my teeth, "I can stem the blood for now, but you have to help me carry him because we are going to get him back, he is not going to die."

Jasper seemed to realize that I wasn't going to give up and he nodded firmly, pulling his knife out of his pocket and cutting the bottom section of Bellamy's already ruined shirt and handing me the handful of material, "Do what you gotta do."

I wrapped the material tightly around his waist, feeling his taut muscles beneath my fingers and ignoring the burn that was beginning to start in the corners of my eyes, I tied a knot and made sure that there was adequate pressure on the wound.

"This is the best I can do for now," I said, "We have to go."

Together we managed to drag him to his feet and carry his weight between the two of us, Jasper shouldering most of it and me pressing my hand to the wound in hopes of keeping the material in place as we moved.

"Ugh-"A groan left Bellamy's lips as we began to make our way around the bottom of the hillside, searching for a way up, "My head."

Jasper sent me a worried look, "His head?"

"He would've hit it in the fall, that's why he was unconscious."

"Can't keep your hands off me princess?" His slurred voice sounded from beside me and I glanced up, meeting his unfocused eyes, the glaze of agony paining me.

"Yeah you wish," I choked, a mixture of laughter and relief catching in my throat.

"Yeah." He laughed, wincing in obvious pain.

For the most part he remained unconscious, dropping and out of consciousness when an unexpected jolt reignited the pain that was obviously flooding through his veins.

"Clarke," Jasper said, his breath becoming ragged, "He's been unconscious for a solid ten minutes now."

"I know," I replied, not wanting to let my doubt show, "It's alright we're back."

"Open the gate!" Jasper yelled, "And come out and help!"

Miller, and another boy I recognized as one of Bellamy's closer friends, raced out through the gates, and relieved us of his weight, carrying him easily between the two of them. I wondered briefly when Miller had returned with Roma.

"Clarke come on!" Jasper yelled, towing me toward the drop ship.

"Bell!" Octavia's wail sliced through the camp and she raced after him into the dropship, "Oh god Bell!"

"Everyone move," I ordered, entering the drop ship and pushing everyone out of my way until I was beside the table where Miller had placed Bellamy, "Right, Jasper grab me the bowl of seaweed, O, if you can't keep it together please leave, if not grab me the needle and thread, he needs stitches now."

Octavia took a deep breath, swiping the tears out from under her eyes and sending me a determined look, "I can do it."

"Good." I sent her a firm, reassuring smile, before placing a cool rag on Bellamy's forehead, his skin hot, his damp curls sticking to his neck and face, pain contorting his expression.

I carefully peeled the material away from his wound, carefully wiping the blood away from the wound, relieved to find that the bleeding that slowed. The material of the remaining shirt was sticking to his skin so gripping it in both hands I ripped it up the centre, pulling it off his body, giving me a clear work space.

Jasper stepped up beside me holding a bowl of natural disinfectant we'd created, and helped me to dip a clean rag into it so I was able to properly clean the wound, before pressing a combination of crushed plantation we'd found to have healing properties, into the wound itself.

"Octavia, you need to get his temperature down," I demanded, "Keep the cold compress on his forehead and try and get him to drink some water or eat some of this." I offered her the small bowl of crushed green plantation, when we'd rushed to save Finn's life, we'd discovered that it effectively brought temperatures down.

I briefly pondered how incredible nature was, to provide us with things that could heal, almost as well as the chemically created healing agents my mother had been involved in building in the laboratory back on the Ark.

"Okay," She nodded, running her fingers down Bellamy's cheek, "Come on Bell." She whispered, trickling water in between his lips.

"Wait," I said, "He will probably wake up whilst I'm stitching him up, so I'll need you, Miller and Jasper to keep him still while I work."

They nodded, Octavia positioning herself near his head and shoulders, whilst Miller took his chest and Jasper his legs.

Carefully, I pierced his skin with the needle, being careful not to dislodge the paste. Immediately, he gasped his entire body tensing, his eyes flying open.

"Bell, Bell calm down," Octavia demanded, pressing her hands into his shoulders and aligning her body so that hers was the only face he could see, "You need to keep really still, Clarke needs to stitch your wound!"

Finally, I managed to successfully get the stitches in place and cover it in seaweed, followed by a white bandage – and Bellamy dropped back into unconsciousness which helped.

"So, he'll be okay?" Octavia asked, pushing his lank hair of his forehead.

I squeezed my eyes shut briefly, "I need to check to see if he has a head wound, and I'm not sure how bad his concussion is, not to mention the possibility that this wound was infected from the beginning."

Her eyes widened.

"Look, if he makes it through the night, I'll be more hopeful." I tried to sound reassuring, but exhaustion and worry was permeating my very soul.

Together with Octavia's help, I lifted his head gently off the table, my fingers gently probing his scull for any sign of injury, trying not to let my fingers linger in his soft curls. Luckily, the only evidence of injury was a slight bump which I ordered Octavia to hold some ice to for a while, just in case.

I carefully washed my own hands in a bowl of warm water, scrubbing Bellamy's blood from my fingers, biting hard onto my tongue to stop the salty tears from escaping my eyes. I so badly didn't want to feel, but seeing his terrified eyes, empty of all the usual coldness and strength, a stripped down version, absolutely afraid, had clutched at my soul, cold and icy.

Ignoring the pain that radiated across my shoulders and down my back, I grabbed and blanket and curled up on a seat nearby to the table where Bellamy lay, "O, wake me if anything changes, okay." I murmured, barely aware of what I was saying, before darkness enveloped me.

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