I'm SO SORRY! That doesn't begin to cover it, I have been absent for a ridiculous amount of time, but I just got inundated with study/work and I completely lost track of time! This isn't a super long chapter but here's an update nonetheless, thanks for the reviews also guys, you're super! xx

Clarke POV

I didn't even have to examine Reynolds' wound to know that he was going to die. The spear had plunged so deep into his skin I was amazed that it hadn't split through the other side of his shin. I guessed that the downward angle it was turned at and bone in his leg was the only reason for this. The thought alone made me want to gag. Injuries on the Ark were never this brutal, never unclean. Murders, when they did occur, on the Ark were done slyly and smartly, with a needle filled with a fatal drug or a tiny knife slipped into the side of the neck or under the rib cage.

This wound was encrusted with dried blackening blood and the area around it was a sickening grey green, a sign that whatever had been on the tip of the spear was in his blood stream.

"Well?" Diane demanded, "Do we need to get you any; I don't know, plants or something?"

I bit down on my lip, unable to take my eyes off the wound, "Diane, I couldn't save him if I had every type of medicine the Ark could provide."

I looked up to meet her eyes, trying to convey my sympathy. She shook her head in denial, "No, no way. It's just on his leg, that can't kill him."

"It's infected," I explained, "The only option to save his life would be to amputate above the knee and there is no way we have the resources for that, nor do I think that's what you or he wants."

She lunged toward me, wrapping her fingers around my neck and lifting me to my feet with surprising strength before slamming me against the wall, "Don't lie to me!" She screamed, "There is no way you're cutting off his leg, you can save him I know you can, you're just trying not too!"

Her eyes were desperate and mad, ringed red. Her hands shook and her nails dug into the skin on my throat.

"Diane!" A boy ran into the room, clutching a gun, "There's a guy approaching!"

Diane let me go and I inhaled raggedly, pressing my own hand to my neck and rubbing the place where her nails had scratched my skin.

Diane swore and spun to me, "Fix him." She spat before turning on heel and marching out of the room, leaving the boy who'd punched me in the head, by the doorway to watch me.

I dropped my eyes back to Reynolds and leant back down on my knees, my heart thudding in my chest. Please let it be Bellamy. Please let it not be Bellamy.

Bellamy POV

The sky was blackening above us, as if it sensed our efforts were futile and was warning us with the approach of what looked like a violent thunderstorm. Octavia, Raven and I tramped along in silence, weapons slung over our shoulders, fears we didn't want to admit painted across our lips. I felt strange, walking through that forest, strange to be searching for someone to save who wasn't my sister. For a moment I felt horribly weak, and all I wanted was to be back at the drop ship like that first day, completely in control and with annoyance being the pinnacle of any emotion I felt for Clarke Griffin. I wanted simplicity and I didn't want to face the feelings I knew would inundate me if Clarke was no longer breathing.

A sharp intake of breath from Octavia was the only thing that gave away the grounder who had appeared like an illusion from the treeline. He seemed to rise from the ground, his skin smudged with greens, browns and blacks, he was the colour of our surroundings.

I hoisted my weapon up, my finger on the trigger, just as Octavia stepped forward to encase the towering grounder in an embrace. My little, barely more than 5ft sister wrapping herself around this over 6ft grounder whose muscles made me feel miniscule. For a moment I thought that he would crush her in his arms, but he simply dropped a hand to rest on the curve of her back and pressed his lips tenderly to her forehead, such a gentle gesture.

I felt uncertain in my own skin. I knew my sister, or rather I had known my sister. I had known her with a ponytail and innocent eyes, hidden beneath the floor of my quarters. I had known that I was the only boy she knew, the only boy she trusted. And now we were here and her hair was loose and longer than ever and her body was pressed against a man. I felt momentarily dizzy, my sister was a woman, not a girl and I had barely noticed that I couldn't treat her like a kid anymore.

She turned to face me, ducking her eyes before meeting mine firmly. My little sister, so entirely unafraid of me.

"Bell, this is Lincoln." She said it nonchalantly, but neither of them made any move toward me, I didn't think that handshakes were a common occurrence here and I wasn't sure I was ready to give one anyway.

I nodded at him, "Grounder, Octavia tells me you might be of some assistance to us."

He glanced briefly down at Octavia, his jaw tense, "You're looking for the rebels who fled your camp."

It wasn't a question, we both knew that he'd been there.

"Correct," My knuckles were white around my weapon, "I take it you know where they are?"

A tiny, almost imperceptible smirk turned up the corner of his lip, "Of course."

Clarke POV

It wasn't Bellamy. Reynolds was dead. I was going to die.

I had discovered all three of these facts in quick succession. Firstly, Reynolds had died. It had been sudden, I was where Diane had left me, desperately searching for a way to save his life, my hands were covered in his sticky red blood and my shirt looked as though I had attacked him myself. But Diane had left me with nothing, no tools, just her expectation of my knowledge and her desperate need for him to be saved. I hadn't even gotten around to deciding whether or not to attempt to remove the weapon when his entire body had stiffened, his eyes rolling back into his head, white spittle bubbling out of his parted lips. His body had decided to give up. His fit lasted all of a few moments before his body slumped back onto the ground, his head limply lolling backwards.

"No, no, no, no." I had muttered, commencing desperate CPR.

That's when a boy entered. I heard footsteps and glanced up from where I was desperately pressing the heels of my palms into the dead man's chest, and my hands froze.

He grinned at me, a crooked smug grin, all bruises and cuts and pale, emaciated skin and hollow pale blue eyes, "Hell princess, looks like Diane really is going to hang you." He laughed.

"Murphy," I whispered, my fingers beginning to shake.

"Thought I was dead didn't ya?" He crossed his arms, leaning his hip against the wall, his eyes manic, his posture calm.

When I didn't reply he dropped his eyes down to where Reynolds body lay, "Oh and don't worry about saving him princess, he isn't in charge."

Oh god.

Where the hell was Bellamy?

Lemme know what ya think! X