CHAPTER NINETEEN

"Never-mind, here works." 

***

I felt like crap. 

 My stomach churned later that day, I was just trying to walk through camp to find Clarke and talk about Murphy, but as soon as I took a step outside, I almost fell right back over. I groaned slightly, stopping to double over in attempts to relieve my pain. I haven't felt like this in years. Like I have been hit by a bus. 

 "Nathan, are you okay-" 

 I held up my hand as Bellamy approached. "Don't-" I managed, although my voice sounded deeper than usual, and strained. "Somethings wrong." 

 Bellamy took another step forward, so I stepped back, the very motion making me want to throw up. This makes no sense, an hour ago I was fine, why do I feel like dying now? 

"Where's Clarke?" I managed, before immediately doubling over, a frantic coughing fit seizing my body. I gasped at the burning, jaw feeling in my throat, although that wasn't what freaked me out. 

 Bellamy reached over, wiping a tear from my face at the same moment I turned to show him my hand. It, along with his finger, was coated a bright red. 

 "Oh no." I took a step back, pushing Bellamy away lightly. "Did you touch Murphy?" 

 He scrunched up his face, "no." 

"Then get away from me." 

 Biological warfare. One of my favorite classes before I was imprisoned, learning that war was so much more than just fighting, it required thought, smarts, and planning. Weakening the other force may not have that much honor, but it was smart. Disease was the main tactic, infection, or, in this case, some sort of hemorrhagic fever. I knew the symptoms, Clarke and I learned at young age, due to her mother being a doctor... I can not say I am too pleased that is is happening to me. 

"Nate, I want to help-" 

 "You said I have to stop acting like it doesn't matter if I die-" I cut off, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground, continuing to back up. "Well this is me taking care of you, and myself. Okay? I need to get to Clarke." 

 "At least let me help-" 

 It was clear he wasn't going to back up, so I held up my hands again, slapping his away. "Get lost, seriously, find Monty and tell him not to come ask what's wrong." 

 With that, I used the remaining energy in my to jog to the Drop Ship, doing my best to avoid campers. I can't touch anyone, not if I am infected too. 

 "Clarke!" I burst into the Drop Ship, out of breath from my short run. I swallowed deeply, inhaling and praying that I don't cough up anymore blood. "Clarke, something-" 

 Before I could finish, my eyes widened, and my foot stepped back against my own will. Clarke had turned away from Murphy, blood smudged under her eyes. Her looked probably mirrored mine, wide eyed, mouth agape, and eyes glued on the blood that was drying on the others face. 

 "They let him go." We whispered, and under different circumstances, I would have found it amusing that we spoke in unison. They let Murphy go, to weaken us. 

"Did he do something to you?" Bellamy demanded, waving the gun he wielded in between Murphy and I. "'Cause I can shoot him, I can-" 

 "I thought I told you to get lost!" 

 "Its biological warfare." Clarke exclaimed to the Blake male, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Bellamy, closer to her and Murphy. "You were waiting for the Grounder's to retaliate for the bridge? This is it." 

 I coughed another spray of blood onto my arm, which wasn't seeming to ease Bellamy's nerves. He pointed the gun at Murphy, although it wasn't like he was going to shoot him, almost like he didn't even realize it was there. "This is your revenge? Helping the Grounders kill us?" 

 "I didn't know about this, I swear." Murphy spoke up as one of the guards handed Clarke some wet rags and she tossed me one, before kneeling down and wiping the blood from Murphy's face. I frowned, looking down at the rag for a second, before shrugging and crouching down so I could run it over his arms, earning a wince and a "suck it up." 

 "Stop lying!"

 Bellamy's voice was so loud when he shouted at Murphy, that it made me turn and raise an eyebrow. "When are they coming?" 

 "Murphy, think alright?" Clarke urged, her voice a million times softer than Bellamy's. "What can you tell us that's useful... did you hear anything?" 

 "They are vicious-" Murphy shook his head, his arms shaking slightly with what I presumed was fear. "Cruel." 

 "You wanna see cruel?" 

 "Hey, back the hell up!" I snapped as he took another step forward. "Jesus, Blake, I don't want you getting sick, take a step away."

 "When did you become a concerned boyfriend?" Murphy managed the smallest of smiles, obviously trying to change the topic, in response, I dug my rag a little harder than necessary, earning a pained yelp. 

 "Clarke-" Finn appeared from seemingly nowhere, saving me from death by embarrassment. I took my attention away from the injured boy for a few seconds to see what the Spacewalker wanted. 

 "Finn, you shouldn't be here-" Clarke's face was growing increasingly pale, and my stomach felt like I was water-logged on blood. "No one should." 

 "I heard you were sick," he turned away, giving me the chance to stick my middle finger up at his back, he spotted Conner and Derek, obviously sick, almost motionless on the floor. "What is this?" 

 "They're making us sick." I answered simply, "the Grounders gave Murphy some sort of Hemorrhagic fever to make us weak before attacking." I bit back a cough, as I thought it would look kinda bitchy to prove my point right after. 

"Yes." Clarke agreed, turning back to Finn, "we just need to contain it before-" 

 A flurry of erratic coughs drowned her voice out, and in the corner of the room, Derek began to convulse wildly, flailing his limbs around as blood splattered from his mouth. My mouth dropped open in shock as his body stopped almost abruptly as it began. 

 "What the fuck." 

 None of us knew what to do at first, until Clarke rose to her shaky feet, limping over to the still body. Seconds later, she looked back up at us, the little color left on her cheeks gone. 

 "He's dead." 

 ***

 My current state didn't improve, but it didn't get worse either. I just hovered in a constant state of nauseous, exhausted, angry fear. I tried to help Clarke with all of the other sick kids, which seemed to double by the hour. 

  "Okay, go to quarantine." I yawned, nudging my head in the direction of the hatch leading to the upper level. "If you start showing any symptoms, get out of there and come find Clarke or, me I guess." 

 The girl in front of me, Sarah I remembered, nodded, looking eager to get way from me, and ran up the ladder. "Hey!" 

 She turned at the last moment, catching my eye. "Please tell Monty that I'm okay, and to stop freaking out." 

 She nodded, obviously not wanting to open her mouth around all of the contamination, and scurried back up the stairs. 

 "You look like shit." 

 I didn't respond at first, resting my forehead against the cool wall of the Drop Ship to try and calm my fever, "I could say the same to you." 

 Bellamy chuckled from behind the cloth he was holding over his mouth and nose. I was strongly against having him in here, but since he is a stubborn little asshole, he insisted. "I don't think you're in the position to be sassing me." 

 "I am always in the position to be sassing someone." I replied, my voice almost as weak as my smile. "Sass is my superpower." 

 "Good superpower." 

 "I know." 

 A shift in my motion made a series of coughs bubble from my throat, spraying blood on both the floor and my hands. I took a heaving breath, hating the sticky, burning feeling in my throat. I forgot how much being sick sucks. 

 "Hey, are you okay?" 

 "Back up-" I warned, no part of me understands why this man can't just learn how to give me much needed personal space. "You're the last person who can run this camp, please don't get sick." 

 (Plus, I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy.)

 "On one condition," He took a half step forward, his lips drawn into a thin smile, "you go get some sleep." 

 I blinked once, raking my eyes over the room. "There are no beds." 

 I held up a hand, slumping down on the wall, and sliding down, laying on the ground, resting my head on my arm and seeing Bellamy smile. "Never mind, here works." 

 That was the last thing I said, before reality faded, and I entered slumber. 

A/N: I had this idea and I need to share it with you all. 

 Nate: From now on, we will all be using code-names, you may address me as: Eagle One. 

 Nate: Clarke code-name: "been there, done that."

 Nate: Bellamy is "currently doing that." 

 Nate: Monty is, "it happened once in a dream." 

Nate: Octavia code-name: "if I had to pick a girl." 

 Nate: Raven is... Eagle Two.

Raven: Oh, thank God.  

 What is wrong with me? 

 Thank you for reading, and don't forget to vote and comment!