𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘, desperate times

      𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐂.

      The radio works. Sam's fears did not come true, and will not. She thinks his doubts of his own abilities were unneeded, him just getting into his own head over the entire situation. Her fears, though not major, have died down, a smile finding its way on to her face every few moments as she thinks about the fact that the camp has contact with the Ark. She can only think about the possibilities of changes to their lifestyles, changes to their fears that will come within the next few weeks as members of the Ark arrive on Earth. 

      She forgets that she's supposed to be helping Clarke — who's currently pacing around the ground floor of the dropship, waiting on a response from someone on the Ark. Anyone who can give them help, anyone who can aid them with what they need to do. Her brows are furrowed, her nail finding its way between her lips as she bites it.

      "Raven? Are you there?".

      This voice snaps her out of this euphoric trance, forcing her to realize that she's meant to be helping Clarke. She had gotten distracted by the idea of safety, and a step towards peace — though that's who she is as a person, always being distracted by the things that don't matter in the moment — and forgotten what she's supposed to be doing. 

      She's not sure how she's meant to help Clarke. She assumes she's just meant to be an extra set of hands, a set of hands that Clarke trusts not to fuck anything up for them. But she hopes the Griffin girl is aware that she has absolutely no medical practice — the most she's ever done is put a band-aid on a cut. She hopes that it won't come to that, her lack of medical practice being the thing that's meant to save their friends. She just wants to be an assistant, handing Clarke tools or holding either of the teenage delinquents beside them down as Clarke performs a procedure.

      She's become aware of the fact that she's fit into this assistant role, not having an actual official job within the camp. Her dazed, daydream-like behavior from the Ark and eventual spiral into depression didn't do her any good towards solidifying her a decent future, landing her in the position she's stuck in now. She had always heard the whispers, saw every side-eye in the halls that were from those that judged her for being so open about her dreams. She never took much time to think about those looks and whispers, being more focused on the dreams she could think of in class or while she was sleeping. The dreams of Earth, the dreams of paradise.

      And maybe the gossipers of the Ark were right. Maybe she should've focused more on perfecting a craft, training for something so she could do something with her life. Maybe she'd be more help in this moment — if she had chosen to pursue a medical path — being able to work alongside Clarke so the pressure wasn't all put on her. But because of her lack of care towards a career, her lack of care towards a passion that could actually benefit the world, has her being an assistant. 

      She doesn't know if she's okay with that anymore.

      She stares at her friends, watching as Sam and Raven move out of the way so Clarke can press the button on the radio to speak. The three of them have roles, they have jobs, benefiting the delinquents and the Ark. Clarke is speaking with her mother through the radio, attempting to form a plan to save the lives of two of the members of the camp. Her actions will help them, because she has no doubt that she will successfully perform whatever operation necessary to save her friends. Sam and Raven have fixed the radio, and she has no doubt that they will fix every other issue within the camp with some sort of mechanical invention, and even add things to the camp, finding random materials and working with what they can find.

      She aspires to have something like that — a true passion, a role that can aid everyone around them. She's not someone who's willing to throw herself into a fight, willing to go into the frontlines of a battle to fight for safety or freedom. She can't handle a weapon, not trusting one in her hands. She's not a cook, and never has been one, knowing she should steer clear of the fires where the meat from hunts are cooked. Every other job within the camp is something that seems like the backbone of how they survive, but she feels like she'll just find a way to mess that up.

      She was halfway-decent at making weapons, but Quinn would always take the weapons she attempted to craft and fix them up — not just slightly, but majorly. The Devons girl never cared that she'd have to take an extra step to fix a weapon, but Makayla did. But the weapon making has stopped, mostly because most people have figured out their own ways to craft or sharpen their weapons, and there hasn't been a hunt for a few days, with everything that's been happening.

      She gets her head out of her thoughts, bring her back to the situation around her. Her eyes land back on Clarke, who's hovering worriedly over the radio. She can't see the look on the girl's face, but she assumes it's full of worry and impatience, itching to get instructions on what to do next. 

      "Mom, I need your help. Two of our people were stabbed by a Grounder".

      She forgets that Clarke's mother is a medic, one of the higher ranking ones too. She forgets how Clarke even ended up in lockup, stuck with a group of delinquents, who were either convicted of harsh crimes like murder, or crimes like stealing rations. She doesn't understand why someone so privileged could end up behind cell walls, but Wells ended up in that position too, so she doesn't question it. It's not her place to question, anyway.

      "Clarke, this is the Chancellor. Are you saying there are survivors on the ground?" She hears the voice of the Chancellor ring out, the same voice she heard a few weeks ago telling her that she was receiving a different fate, rather than being shoved into an airlock and sent out into space. That moment, where her life completely changed once again seems so long ago now, like it's on a whole other timeline. She had gotten so used to the routine life of solitary, nothing ever changing, but everything on Earth is changing. Not how she imagined, either. 

      "Yes, the Earth is survivable. We're not alone" She answers, her voice somewhat strained as she waits for the members of the Ark on the other side of the radio to actually help her. Makayla begins taking her first steps towards the radio, approaching with caution, almost hesitant to disrupt the blonde's area of focus. She wants to help the girl, finding the courage in her chest to press the issue, but Clarke beats her to it.

      "Mom, they're dying. One has a knife in his chest and the other as a knife in her thigh" She explains, her voice desperate as she speaks into the radio. The tension in the air is thick, knowing that the two teenager's lives are in the hands of a teenager and a few members of the Ark, people who are miles away from them.

      She puts a hesitant hand on the girl's shoulder, hoping to reassure her. She hasn't had someone's life in her hands before, especially two lives of people who haven't lived a full life — if they can even achieve that on Earth. Their situation is not one that is ideal, but she feels as if anyone in their camp could live a full life. In her mind, there's hope that a deal can be made with the Grounders, protecting them from harm.

      At least, she hopes.

      Clarke glances back at her, giving her a soft smile as the radio crackles once more, the voice of Chancellor Jaha coming from it.

      "Clarke, is my son with you?".

      The air stills, and everything around them seems to go silent. Nobody has really spoken of Wells, especially not around Clarke, in what seems like a long time. His body is still with them, hidden under six feet of dirt just outside of the walls of the camp. She remembers the feeling when she first saw his body, how her stomach seemed to plummet when she found him. A boy so caring and so kind, his life stolen from him by a child who was wronged by the world.

      Wells' life seems like tale that is not meant to be spoken, but is meant to live with those who knew him. She never wants to forget Wells, one of the only people who didn't ridicule her for her belief in the good in the world, her dreams and her ambitions to one day touch the ground, have her feet in the grass. 

      Nobody's spoken of the boy, registered his death in what seems like forever. He isn't forgotten, but now they have to face the fact that his own father is asking about his well-being. She's sure that nobody ever registered that, mainly because he died before there was any hope of contacting the Ark. He died when they were alone, and he died alone.

      Clarke is silent, staring at the radio with a blank expression on her face. It's obvious that she's hesitant to respond, having to face the fact that she's on Earth another day without the boy. She knows that she wouldn't want to be the one to deliver the news to Sam's parents that he were dead if that were to ever happen, if they would even care. It would even hurt if she were to say something like that to her own father, knowing how much he's like family to them.

      She brings her hand out, pressing the button on the radio and leaning in. She's hesitant to do so, but she thinks it's what must be done.

      "Chancellor Jaha? This is, uh, Makayla Donnelly" She tries to figure out the words, not knowing the right thing to say in this moment. She doesn't think there is a right thing to say, delivering the news of a death having so much weight to it. The weight of this action seems to be hanging on everyone's shoulders, putting pressure on them all as they wait for the boy's father to finally receive the news. "I'm so sorry, but he's — he's dead. He was an amazing person, though".

      She hopes her words came out right, not making the situation worse than it already is. She doesn't know how else she could say the news, with how soul-crushing that it is. There's silence from the other side of the radio, only static as she stares blankly at the machine. Wells was a good person, and deserves the best wherever he is now.

      She turns away from the radio, wanting to go back to the other side of the dropship where she was before, and let the others do the talking. She's not a talker, not someone who will take charge at any given moment. As she moves backwards, she faces Clarke, who gives her a sad smile, silently telling her 'thank you' for her actions. She smiles back, knowing she made the girl feel at least a little better, and finds her spot on the other side of the room.

      "Okay, Clarke, I'm going to talk you through it, step by step" She hears Clarke's mom, Abby, say from the other end of the radio. She sees the blonde begin moving towards Finn's unconscious body, every step she takes shaky. The dropship seems like it's closing in on them, the overly crowded area becoming overwhelming and the room increasing in humidity every second.

      The rising temperature forces her to ditch her jacket, tossing it off to the side of the room, keeping her in her tank top and jeans. Even with less layers on, she feels like she's sweating bullets, nothing helping her situation. She takes a few steps closer to Quinn, hovering over her unconscious form, not sure what to do.

      Clarke appears before her with a blade. "Cut around the knife, at least remove enough fabric so we can actually see the wound" She commands, and Makayla nods along. She may not trust her ability to aid Clarke with actual medical things, but she knows that she can at least help by doing the smaller actions, like removing the excess fabric of the girl's jeans. She pulls on the girl's jeans, giving her just enough space between the fabric and Quinn's skin to cut through the fabric, carefully cutting around the wound.

      She almost lets out a sigh of relief when she's able to peel the fabric away, but the wound she's looking at stops her from doing so. It's not the fact that there's blood on the girl's skin, it's the fact that there's a weapon that could be a hundred years old in her friend's body, and who knows where the knife has been. 

      There's crackling from the radio, nothing coherent can be heard from it. She assumes the storm is interfering with the connection, and though she's not the best when it comes to recalling knowledge about how radios and other mechanical items work, she remembers reading a book describing what storms and hurricanes can do to lands and technology.

      She backs away from Quinn's unconscious form, resting her head against the wall as Clarke races towards the radio, desperately questioning the two mechanics on why the audio continues to cut out, why she can't get answers out of her mother to see what to do next. She wishes she knew what to do in this situation, so they wouldn't have to rely on their poor connection with the Ark to figure out how to save their friends. She wishes she had the smarts or the ability to do what needs to be done, but all she can do is wait for instructions that Clarke doesn't even have.

      She only focuses back on the two unconscious teenagers in front of her when Octavia walks in, holding canisters of something in her hands.

      Clarke motions for her to come closer, and she does so knowing that the girl will probably have her help in something that involves getting close to the wounds that need to be treated. She watches Clarke open one of the canisters, smelling it before quickly moving it away from her face. "Monty's moonshine?".

      Octavia looks up at them. "Pretty sure no germ could survive it".

      She smiles at the brunette girl, thankful that there's other people helping them. There's a major burden hanging over Clarke's head, and Makayla believes that the more people that attempt to help them, the better. Especially when there's a storm making it harder to do anything, forcing the entire camp within the walls of the dropship, leaving almost no room for them to work. 

      She turns her head towards the entrance of the dropship, and then turns back to the two girls. "Should we close the doors? The storm's just going to keep getting worse".

      "Monty and Jasper still aren't back yet. Neither is Bellamy" The brunette beside her explains as she pours the contents of one of the canisters into a bowl, giving them an easier way to use the liquid to sterilize anything that may need to be sterilized. 

      "It's okay, they'll find somewhere to ride it out" Clarke adds.

      She doesn't think it's the best idea for the three to be anywhere but the camp, but that might have to be what happens. She doesn't even know where they could've gone, since they disappeared almost right after Finn and Quinn were brought inside the dropship. She hasn't seen any of them since, so they could be anywhere. Riding out this type of storm in a random cave seems like a horrible idea, especially because the winds keep getting stronger. But she doesn't know if they'll be able to make it back to the dropship before the entrance has to be closed off.

      Raven comes over to them, pushing her way through the crowds. She never even realized that the girl left the area with the radio, leaving Sam alone to continue working on it. She assumes all he's doing it attempting to strengthen the connection they have, but she's worried he's overthinking everything he's doing, like he was before. But she doesn't blame him. One wrong move could break their connection with the Ark, leaving them in the dark.

      She's learned within the past few hours that so many people in the camp hold large amounts of burdens on their shoulders, everyone for different reasons. Clarke's been holding a burden on her shoulders because she's the only one who has the medical expertise to actually help them, and nurse them back to health if needed. Sam and Raven are the only one's who have been working through the process of fixing the radio, and if things go wrong, they're most likely to blame. She feels like she's stuck being an assistant, and if someone can't do their job, and she's somehow related to it, she's at fault because she's meant to help them.

      She wishes that everything could be okay, and their lives on Earth could be smooth sailing. But she knows that can't happen, with the Grounders and the weather working against them. Nothing is working in their favor, and she doesn't know how that could change in the future.

      She hears commotion around her, snapping her out of her own thoughts as she notices Bellamy and the rest of his group walk in to the dropship. She doesn't realize that they have an extra person with them at first — Bellamy blocking her view of the rest of the group. But as he takes a few steps forward, she sees something that causes her stomach to drop.

      They brought a Grounder back with them. And she can only assume that it's the same Grounder that had taken Octavia. She figures they want revenge, or at least Bellamy does and a few others are following his orders, so they decided to go after the Grounder.

      That's where they've been all this time, hunting down the Grounder that took Octavia hostage and hurt their friends. She can't blame them for wanting revenge — it being a natural thing - but she can't help but think that bringing the Grounder back to their camp is a bad idea. They're already at war with the Grounders, no safety being promised the moment anyone steps outside of the camp's walls, and yet one of the leaders of the camp has made the decision to bring a Grounder back to the camp.

      It's risking all of their safeties, because what happens when his friends, and possibly even family, realize that he's gone? She can assume that they'll think that the delinquents took him, and then come after them, attacking them when they least expect it. 

      Octavia is the first one to confront him. "What the hell are you doing?".

      She crosses her arms, watching from the sidelines as the two siblings argue. Bellamy attempts to reason that they need answers — and though they do, she can only assume that the Grounder was brought back to their camp for the purpose of torturing him, which is not the method she thinks is right. Torturing the man will only make their situation worse, and the camp needs to stop having issues thrown at them left and right.

      "You mean revenge?" Octavia snaps back at him, using a better word to describe what will happen if they manage to keep the Grounder in the dropship. 

      She sees him get frustrated, frustrated that his plan is not going the way he wants it to. But why would it? He made the decision to go after the Grounder, bring him into their camp, where he knows there will be multiple people who will argue against his decision, and yet he's frustrated. It doesn't make sense to her, and she doesn't think it ever will. Torturing the man will only continue to destroy their chances at peace, risking everyone's lives once again.

      "I mean intel" Bellamy attempts to reason, but Clarke points out that his sister is right. Everyone can tell that what Bellamy is going to do is torture, and nothing more than that. No excuses he can give can change his intentions, or change what his actions mean.

      She almost rolls her eyes. "What happens when his friends come looking for him? Are you ready to fight a war?". She thinks that this entire situation is barbaric — they shouldn't have a Grounder hostage. This shouldn't ever be a thought that crosses anyone's minds, especially the mind of a leader of the camp. This decision endangers everyone's lives, because this is an act of war. Even if they end up doing nothing to the man, the Grounders won't take this lightly.

      "The camp can handle it".

      She scoffs. "But can you? Because I know for sure that I won't be fighting in a war that I have no part in" She pauses, holding eye contact with the man. "And I'm sure there's other people in the camp that feel the exact same".

      He stays silent, holding eye contact with her until the radio crackles once again, Abby's voice coming through. She's announcing that they're ready, which Makayla believes took longer than necessary to happen — but she's stuck waiting for Clarke to move back towards the tables, ready to do whatever she needs to do to help the two teenagers. But the blonde isn't moving — instead she's standing there, trying to plead with Bellamy to not go through with this.

      "Look, this is not who we are" She pleads, Makayla staying a few feet behind her with her arms crossed. She catches Bellamy's face drop as he listens to the radio, the frustrated expression appearing on his face once more. 

      He glances between the three girls — all of them staring at him because of the stupidity of his actions. Whatever he's planning to do with the Grounder — she can only assume it's torture — will not do anyone any good. It'll bring them closer to war than they already are, or possibly even have one happening on their camp grounds by the time the storm's done. 

      "It is now".

      He starts walking away, which only makes Makayla more upset. All she can think about is the consequences of his actions, how it'll only continue to harm the camp and the delinquents — they'll probably have an army surrounding them before they know it. 

      She doesn't even realize her feet have begun to carry her towards the man — who's walking away from them all, heading towards the ladder to get him off the first floor. She slaps his arm, turning his attention back to her, and she watches him roll his eyes.

      "Is it all going to be worth it? When there's an army surrounding us because you decided to get unneeded revenge?" She questions, her tone vulgar as her annoyance peaks through. She's never gotten this heated over something before — trying to keep peace in conversations — but she doesn't know is she can stand by while people, specifically people like Bellamy, continue to disrupt the peace that they barely have.

      He scoffs. "I don't know if you missed it, but he held my sister hostage. If you think bringing him here is unneeded and unjustified, you need to have a fucking reality check".

      She's well aware of the situation — she knows that Octavia was put into a horrible situation, and the Grounder did something horrible. She didn't deserve to be held hostage, but holding the Grounder hostage for revenge — or as Bellamy likes to call it, 'intel' — because of it doesn't make them any better than the people they're fighting. Doing this will only continue to make the situation worse, and do nobody any good.

      "Trust me, I'm well aware of what happened. But I don't think you've realized that what you're about to do has consequences that affect all of us" She spits back, still in disbelief that he's really going through with this. She thought that Bellamy was a better person than this, but those thoughts are now gone. He's their leader — and she doesn't think that as their leader, he should be doing this.

      When he doesn't respond, and only stares, she scoffs. "I hope it's worth it".

      She turns away from him, seeing that Clarke's now back at the tables, ready to go through with the next steps in saving their friends. She tries to put the thoughts of what Bellamy's planning in the back of her mind, and instead wants to focus on the task at hand, but it's hard not to think about the consequences of the man's actions.

      What he's doing hurts all of them, and that's all she can think about. The consequences that his actions hold, how it'll hurt them all instead of help them. She doesn't know if it would be better if Bellamy were to believe what he's doing is right or not, but she's almost certain that he knows his actions are wrong. 

      But she knows one thing for sure — that's not who they are. They're not torturers, and they're not people who hold others hostage for revenge. They're better than that, and she hopes that they can stay that way.

      She walks back towards Clarke, who's hovering over the two unconscious teenager's bodies. She gives Makayla a quick smile as she takes a place beside her, the girl not removing the annoyed look that's painted her face since Bellamy brought the Grounder into the dropship.

      "He's still going through with it?" Clarke questions, and Makayla nods, only reluctantly. She doesn't enjoy the fact that it's the truth, knowing something like that is happening, especially because it's happening at the hands of someone who's supposed to lead the camp.

      "I tried to knock some sense into him, but he told me I need a 'fucking reality check'" She says in response, following it up with a scoff. "I just don't think he's realizing that there's no good in what he's about to do. It's just going to cause a chain reaction of a bunch of bullshit that could've been avoided".

      She hears Clarke sigh. "We can't do anything about it now, we just need to help Finn and Quinn".

      She nods as Clarke walks over to Finn's body, and she assumes a place by Quinn. It's unspoken between them that Clarke is the one to mainly watch over the boy, while Makayla is meant to do her best in watching over Quinn. She doesn't mind the fact that it's working in this way, but she can't help but hope that Clarke will still check over Quinn. Leaving the girl with absolutely no medical knowledge to do whatever she can with someone who has a major injury doesn't seem like the best idea, but she knows that there's no other option.

      She sees Clarke look down at Finn's injury, and then towards the radio. "The blade is at a sharp upward angle, between his sixth and seventh rib".

      Clarke looks over at Makayla, almost expectantly. She hurriedly looks over at Quinn's wound, not knowing how to describe it properly, but noticing how the knife is halfway between her knee and her hip. She explains what she sees to Abby, her words more hesitant and unsure than they should be — but she was never going to have confidence in this situation.

      Abby asks how deep the blades are, to which both girls can't tell. 

      Makayla doesn't like that they're unsure. She doesn't like that she can't tell — even though she's had no background in this type of work. She feels as if knowing how deep the blades are would help them, give them more knowledge to work with, especially while communicating with people who aren't on the planet with them. She fights the urge to pick at her nails, silently reminding herself that her hands need to stay sterilized.

      "That's alright, just don't remove either knives yet" Abby says through the radio, just as Raven begins pacing around the room. She doesn't blame her — the girl is stressed about the condition her boyfriend is in, which is reasonable. The blonde is stressed about Quinn — if she wasn't stuck trying to get the knife out of her thigh, she'd probably be pacing around the room too.

      Clarke hands Raven the canister of moonshine, telling her to sterilize her hands. That serves as another reminder to the anxious Donnelly girl that she shouldn't pick at her nails — no matter how nervous she is. She tries to focus on other things as more anxiety builds up in her chest, her eyes landing on Raven, who's drinks some of the moonshine before sterilizing her hands.

      The volume in the room increases, everyone's voices being too loud. The environment around them changing makes her even more anxious, knowing that the other delinquents are causing a disruption, which could mess up their work space. The radio crackles as well — she can barely hear Abby's voice come through. She can't tell what she's saying, and neither can Clarke, who huffs in frustration over the volume being too loud.

      Makayla glances at Raven, who's standing there anxiously. "Hey, Raven? Could you clear the room?" She questions, to which Raven nods. She's glad that Raven's there, helping them as much as she can. And, as quickly as the room got overcrowded and loud, it begins to become a lot more silent, giving them a calmer work space to work with.

      Clarke places a hand on Finn's forehead, Makayla copying her moves. She still has almost absolutely no idea what she's doing, feeling lost in the entire situation. She continues to wish she could've obtained medical knowledge back on the Ark — or that there's someone else in the camp that has good medical knowledge. But with as little as she does know, she does feel that Quinn's skin feels warm — almost too warm. 

      "Hey, Clarke? Quinn feels too warm" She says, announcing what she's realized to the girl. Her panicked eyes start glancing around the room, making eye contact with Sam, who gives her a reassuring smile as she tries not to let her anxiousness get the best of her.

      Clarke pauses. "Finn is too".

      The blonde announces that to her mother, who explains to them that a fever may accompany trauma. It reassures Makayla, telling her that something else isn't happening — she doesn't know what else would be happening, but she was almost certain that the girl shouldn't have felt that warm. She almost misses the fact that she's supposed to be searching for fluid around the wound, being too busy focusing on the feverish temperatures she felt too immediately spring into action. She only does so when she sees Clarke look towards the wound on Finn's torso — silently telling Makayla to snap out of her thoughts.

      She glances at the wound on Quinn's thigh, seeing nothing but dried blood and sweat. She tells that to Clarke, who explains to her mother than neither of the teens have any fluid leaking from their wounds, and in response to that, they get good news.

      "That's good — that's actually really good. They got lucky".

      She never thought that she'd hear that two teenagers with stab wounds got lucky, but there's a first time for everything. Her anxiousness almost subsides, but then it dawns on her that the blades are still in the two teenagers, and with her lack of medical knowledge, she's not the most confident that Quinn will still be lucky.

      But she tries her best to not focus on that, instead feeling a smile creep onto her face as she watches Raven tell her unconscious boyfriend that he got lucky — she almost wants to do the same to Quinn. She's glad that the girl can find something to smile about in this situation, not having seen the girl smile ever since the unconscious teens were dragged through the gate of the camp.

      She just hopes they can stay lucky.

      𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 —

this shit's not edited at all, i completely forgot yesterday was a monday

anyways my girl almost crashed out this chapter and im very excited for you guys to see her in the next chapter, im currently living vicariously through her with her actions (kind of)

xoxo!

𝟓𝟓𝟐𝟏 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒