CHAPTER TWENTY

"I said something, not someone."

***

Abby Griffin used to tell me that "sleep was the best medicine." I got common colds a lot as a kid, probably from stress is what the doctor used to tell me. She would always take my temperature, crinkle her forehead like it was death-defying, and then telling me to have a nap. She would then launch into a very scientific reason for what sleep does for your cells and stuff like that, I would beg her to stop, promising I would nap. She would laugh, pat my head, and usher me to my quarters.

 I get it now. 

 When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was that my stomach didn't feel like it was trying to eat itself. The second thing I noticed was that I wasn't on the ground. Sometime when I was asleep, someone moved me from the floor, to a free cot. I propped myself up on my elbows, both impressed and relieved by how many people were gone. 

 I swung my legs over the side of the bed, smiling softly to myself. This sickness won't weaken us to the point we could easily be beaten if all we have to do is cough up blood and sleep. 

 The Grounders underestimated us, which was a mistake. 

 "You're looking better." 

 I turned my head, groaning softly when I saw who was laid on the bed in front of me. "I warned you, you just couldn't stay away." 

 Bellamy smirked lightly, although the simple act seemed to drain his energy. Blood smudged against his tanned skin, under and coating his lips. "Can you blame me?"

 "Nah, I'm pretty fabulous." I grinned, and took a note of how sore my throat was. "Thirsty though, damn." 

 "I thought you'd be." A new voice piped up. Clarke smiled softly, two small cups of water in her hands. She was also looking extraordinarily better. She had cleaned the blood from her face, and even seemed to have straightened her hair out. I was both jealous and impressed. She handed me one of the cups, which I immediately threw back, the relief running through my body, energized by the fluids. 

 "Here." Clarke passed over the other one, and I helped Bellamy prop his head up, slowly tipping the water into his mouth.  I grinned, standing up and suddenly feeling like I could run a marathon. 

 "We never did get the chance to take those stitches out." Clarke noted, raking her eyes once over the Drop Ship, making sure there were no patients needing her. "Can I see." 

 I obediently lifted my shirt, pleased to see my stomach wasn't bleeding externally. The wound looked closed, pink, slightly irritated, but fine. I exhaled in relief, and Clarke gave a small little smug grin of satisfaction. 

 (Small Smirk of Satisfaction.)

"Awesome! Just let me sterilize some of those wire-cutters, and you'll be good!" She jumped up, jogging lightly out of sight. 

 "Wait, wire cutters?" 

 Bellamy began to laugh at my dumbfounded expression, "that's something to look forward too." 

 "Yeah, I freakin' love getting my skin cut with wires." 

 Bellamy chuckled, grunting as he sat up, I took a small step forward, not even having to kneel down for him to wrap an arm around my shoulders. "Oh how the tables have turned. Now I need to help you walk." 

"You're a little too short for that." He teased as we began slowly walking toward the fresh air. I rolled my eyes, huffing indignantly.  

 "Dude, I'm tall... you're just a goddamn giant." 

 "That's what short people say." 

 I stayed silent, but poked his side with the hand wrapped around his waist. I was aching for fresh air, the cleansing oxygen being like a drug compared to the bottled crap on the Ark.  

"Whoo, I'm free." I grinned, leaning my head back, closing my eyes and letting the air caress my face. Hey, life could be worse, I felt better, and had my arms around Bellamy Blake. 

 Yeah, it could definitely be worse. 

 "You seem to be a quick healer." Bellamy said with his newfound hoarse voice that I kind of liked. "Next time you get all bitchy on me, I'll just make you take a nap, and it will all be better." 

 "Shut up, Blake, I'm having a moment." 

 Before Bellamy could interrupt my "moment," something else did. A booming explosion coming from the woods, making me jump, instantly reminded of the Exodus ship, the smoky tendrils clawing toward the sky looking like smoky fingers. I was about to do something, but a soft grin on Bellamy's face made me stop.

 "It was the bridge, wasn't it?" 

 He nodded slowly once, his eyes glued to the sky like it was an image he just couldn't get enough of. I felt the same way. 

 "They did it." 

 "I am Become Death, destroyer of worlds." Clarke whispered in a breathy voice, wire cutters in one hand, a cup of Monty's moonshine in the other. I felt a small smile drift onto my face, of course she was quoting Oppenheimer right now. 

 "Nice quote." I grinned over at my friend. "Oppenheimer never fails to impress." 

She grinned at me in response, holding up the wire cutters in a silent question. I held up a hand, turning back to take in the view of both the sky and the boy next to me, savoring the moment of peace that I knew wouldn't last. 

***

Good news: My stitches are out. 

 Bad news: It hurt like hell. 

 Mediocre news: Mother Monty is back. 

 "They shouldn't trust you with a gun." The boy pointed out as I aimed the weapon towards the woods. I was just waiting for a Grounder, Phia more specifically, to pop out from behind the thick trees, and start throwing their knives at us. They haven't retaliated from the bridge, and I knew the fight would be coming soon. 

 I hummed in response, staring through the scope and raking my eyes through the trees. "They didn't." 

 I couldn't see him, but I could fluently picture the look on his face. "Wait, then how did you get it." 

 I sighed, looking down from the forest long enough to give my best friend a look. "Mon, why did I get arrested?" 

 A flash of confusion drifted across his face, before realization cut in, and a disapproving look replaced the previous. "Nate, you can't steal guns." 

 "I can 'cause I did." 

Monty rolled his eyes at me, gesturing for me to jump down, so I did, landing on my toes and slinging the rifle to my back. I gave my best innocent smile, ruffling the shorter boys hair. "You know you love me." 

 "Sometimes I doubt it." 

 I chuckled, wrapping my arm around his shoulder. "I love you too, Monty." 

 He sighed in exasperation. "I know." 

 Our moment was interrupted by the obnoxious screaming of ninety-something teenage delinquents. I jerked my head toward camp, the orange, blazing flames being the thing that caught my attention. The wooden hut that we kept our meat in was aflame, the smoke raising to the sky, the food burning to the ground. 

 "What the hell?" I demanded, as Monty and I traipsed over to the group gathered by the growing blaze. "Fires aren't okay!" 

 "Yeah, fires aren't okay!" Murphy rounded on a lanky kid that I recognized to be named Del, and shoved him hard in the chest. "And we told you that was too much wood!" 

"Get the hell away from me!" Del shoved Murphy back. I groaned, ignoring their scuffle and looking at the fire. It ate up everything edible we salvaged within three miles.. Berries, meat, this sucks. 

 Bellamy was the one who ended up breaking the fight up. He threw himself in between Murphy and Del, shoving them both back. I rolled my eyes at the drama that always comes with John Murphy. "Hey, stop!" He snapped, "save it for the Grounders!" 

 "Now what are we supposed to do?" Octavia questioned, sweat clinging to her hairline from the fire, and exhaustion seeping into her eyes. "That was all the food." 

Bellamy doesn't answer, instead, his eyes drift to me, the light from the fire making his face look even more surreal than usual. He didn't need words to communicate what he was thinking, because I was thinking the exact same thing. 

 What the hell are we supposed to do? 

 I started by helping douse the fire, the charred remains of what used to be our source of survival scattered across the ground like gun powder. And not the good kind. 

 "Well..." I let my voice trail off, turning and frowning  at Jasper, who stood behind me with his arms crossed, surveying the remains. "This... sucks." 

 "Tell me about it."  

 We stood in silence, the smoke from the ashes making my eyes burn. I didn't stop staring though, something about dying before winter made me not want to move.

 "Hey, Nate." Clarke tapped my shoulder, jerking me from my haze. "Some of us are going hunting for more food, wanna come?" 

 For a split second, I thought she was making fun of me. 

 "Clarke... I don't know if you know this, but I am the worst hunter in the world." 

 She nodded once, hefting her gun and shrugging. "I know, I figured it was worth a shot." 

 Okay... definitely making fun of me. I watched Clarke retreat, until her blonde braids faded from eyesight. It was getting colder now, and darker, which didn't do much for my apprehension about the winter. What was going to happen? I mean, will all of us die of starvation before the Grounders could even get to us? Because after all I've been through on Earth, I think it would be kind of sad if I died from lack of food. 

 "Hey Nate, can I ask you a question?" 

 Wow, I sure am popular today. 

 Raven stood beside me, her cheeks flushed and her bottom lip clamped firmly between her teeth. She didn't wait for me to respond, just asked me her question. 

 "Do you think Finn likes Clarke?" 

 Do I think Finn likes Clarke? Let's see, there are two ways I could play this, compassionate and friendly, or-

 "Yeah."   

Okay, stupid and assholish it is! 

 Raven's face only seemed to fall more, as if hearing me saying it only confirmed her suspicions. My heart clenched, and I instantly felt bad for the way I phrased that. I can't be the only one who see's it. The way they are always staring at each other, the way they are always trying to protect one another... It's what I like to call, painfully obvious. 

 "I'm sorry," I tried to fix my mistake, resting a gentle hand on her arm. "Okay? I'm really sorry, but I think you're awesome, and I think Finn loves you. I just think it maybe.... isn't the way you want it to be." 

 Jeez, Nathan, learn when to shut up! 

 I felt my face heat up, an began stumbling over my words. "No, I just, I mean that, um, I mean that, that of course he loves you, and you love him, but you know what he feels even if you, uh, don't want to admit it." 

 "What do I do." 

 I suddenly felt like a very awkward therapist. 

 "Um, you... follow your instinct... do something that can help you cool off, and get your head in shape, maybe make you feel better... like, throw rocks at a tree or something." 

 If my weird advice made her feel better, she didn't let on. Instead, she nodded curtly and stormed off to the direction of the tents, making me wonder just who's life I managed to fuck up this time. 

***

Spoiler alert: it was mine. 

 It was later that night, when I set off in search for Raven, to try and see if my super good advice worked out for her. Nobody was around, as everyone has already turned in for the night, with the exception of our guards. A small fire illuminated the space in front of me, well enough that I could see, but not that I could avoid getting run into. 

 By who? Raven. 

 Why? Because she was buttoning her pants. 

 Where did she come from? Bellamy's tent. 

 I don't know why, but a pit fell into my stomach like I had jut swallowed a rock. My face felt red, like I was standing closer to the fire than I was, and my stomach felt like it had churned itself to butter. 

 I then realized that I have never truly felt hurt before. 

So there we stood, staring at each other in the moonlight, both of us wearing different masks on our faces. Mine was hurt, and hers was guilty. 

 I was the first one to speak, and my voice shook slightly, but otherwise sounded the same. 

 "I said something, not someone." 

 And then I whirled around and stormed off.