CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

"Why am I scared of you? Because you're freakin' scary!"

***

I don't know how long I was alone with Phia, but I know that neither of us were a danger to the other at this point. 

 When I found her, her face was deadly pale and she had a knife embedded in her stomach, sword nowhere to be seen. As much as I just wanted to leave her there, I couldn't. Some part of me wanted to make up for leaving Bellamy, by saving her life... maybe it will make her stop trying to kill me.

 I screamed in pain as my shoulder popped back into it's socket, my weight leaning against the tree I used to press my back into. The burning passed quickly, and I sighed deeply, rolling my shoulder. 

 "Okay," I tossed another stick into the small fire I had built, cracking my knuckles. "I'm gonna cut off the top of your shirt?" 

 She gave me a harsh look, so I rolled my eyes as I knelt down, "it's okay, I'm gay... and not an asshole." 

 As soon as the knife was visible, I winced again. It was right in the middle, a little off to the right. I don't think it hit anything important, as she seems to be breathing fine, and doesn't have a fever. 

 I walked over to the fire, kneeling down and sticking the blade into the fire, walking back over to Phia, who didn't look all-that keen on having me remove the knife from her gut. "Okay, this is going to hurt, but you can't move." 

 "Not a problem," she propped her elbows on the ground, aggressively exhaling in attempts to make it look like she wasn't in pain. "Just get this damn thing out of me." 

 Phia wasn't too keen on having me help her. The only reason she did was because she had no choice. I kneeled down next to the girl, placing both of my hands on the hilt. "Ready?" 

 She exhaled sharply, "yeah." 

 "One, two, three-" I slowly pulled the blade from her stomach, making her face turn red in efforts to try and show that she 'was fine'. The wound wasn't bleeding much, although it was hard to tell from all of the dried blood caked on her pale skin. "Apply pressure," I ordered, jogging over and grabbing the warm hilt of the knife, the blade glowing orange. I pressed the flat side onto the wound, making Phia let out something that sounded like she really wanted to scream, but couldn't. 

  "There," I pressed the part of her shirt I had cut off against the raw skin. "Good as new." 

Phia grunted in response, immediately rising back to her feet as if nothing had happened. I lunged forward, grabbing the other knife so that she couldn't get it. Phia rolled her eyes. 

 "Please, Sky-Boy I am not going to kill you." She rolled her eyes like my life was just a small inconvenience to her, "I owe you for this." 

 "Yeah, you could just not try to kill me every couple of days, and I'd say we're pretty even." 

 She didn't respond at first, staring down at the bright red skin on her stomach in thought, cocking her head to the side, "why are you so scared of me, Nathaniel?" 

 My eyes widened slightly at that question. I thought Phia thrived off of being scary, I thought that was her whole vibe. If it was, she is doing a really good job because she is frightening as hell. 

 "Why am I scared of you? Because you're freakin' scary!" I retorted, crossing my arms, genuinely prepared to list off all of the reasons why I thought Phia was scary, "you sliced me and then made me die, you kicked me in the face, you tried to slice me again-" 

 "I get it!" A smug smile was on her face, as she leaned her head back against the tree, the cool breeze probably feeling good against her wound. "You want to know why I am scared of you?" 

 For a moment, I thought I heard her incorrectly. Phia was scared of me? Me, the clumsy, skinny Sky-Boy who makes a habit of tripping over things that aren't even there? Huh, makes sense. 

 I wanted to say all that, but instead the only thing that came from my mouth was, "huh?" 

 Phia laughed, a laugh that, just like Clarke's, didn't match her persona. Light and airy, like she was actually really happy. It was one thing I never expected to hear... especially from Phia. "The thing about you that scares me is that you are willing to bleed out for your friends, but could still leave them at your camp to die." 

 "Bellamy's not dead." I snapped, my voice harsh and unpleasant. "He'll find someone, he'll survive... and I need to find him." 

 "No need to get all defensive," she raised her hands in defense, still smirking like she won the lottery. "I thought we were on the terms that we don't fight when we are alone in the woods." 

 "We never made that agreement." 

 "Well, now we are," she held out her hand, "no fighting when we are alone in the woods? It is dangerous out here alone..." she cocked her head, "well, for you." 

 I eyes her hand warily. "I don't trust you enough to give you a knife." 

 "I could kill you with my bare hands." 

 "Fair enough." 

 She raised an expectant eyebrow, and I made a mental checklist of all of the things holding her back from killing me, and handed her the one that was still coated in her blood. Mine was still hot, so  waved it around like it was a fan. 

Phia, thankfully, didn't stab me the moment she got her hands on the weapon. Instead, she began scratching at the blade, chipping the blood from the metal. I relaxed, taking a deep breath and stomping out the small fire with my boot. 

 "You'll be dead in days," she mused from her spot leaning against the tree, "you need to be trained." 

 "I'll put it on my schedule." I drawled, rolling my eyes and testing to see if the blade was still hot. It wasn't, so I stuck it back into my belt. A sudden motion from Phia made my eyes dart up, but I was too late, as she ran behind me and grabbed a hold of my head, holding the blade to my throat. My heart fell, and my throat constricted. "What are you doing?" 

 "What would you do if you were in this position, Nathaniel?" She asked, withdrawing the blade and kicking me lightly away, I sighed, okay, she wasn't a liar, she just had a flare for the dramatic. "You would die." 

 "Well when there's a knife to your throat, it's a little hard to concentrate!" I snapped, my heart still beating abnormally quickly, and my lips were sewn in a tight line. "We never learned knife-fighting in space!" 

 Before our argument could continue, a loud, familiar, groan of pain echoed around us. I froze deeply, my entire body stiffening to the point I was sure I resembled a plank. "That was Finn." 

 "That could have been anyone!" Phia defended, although she was shoving her knife in the sheath previously used for her sword. "You can't run into every possible-death scenario you think of, Nathaniel." 

 Again, full name keeps throwing me off.

 "I don't care," I began walking toward where the tree's thickened and the sound came from, I turned to see if she was coming. "You can come and see just how useless I am if you want." 

 She mumbled something in a language I didn't recognize under her breath, but came beside me, and together, we ran into the woods. 

 ***

 I almost ran right into a horse. 

 Phia quickly grabbed my arm, pulling me down into the bushes. There was a horse in front of us, a huge, white one, with a Grounder rider that had two wicked looking swords, and burn marks across his face. Behind him, tied to ropes behind the animal, was Bellamy and Finn. 

 My breath caught in my throat, and I grabbed my knife, holding it in front of me slightly. Phia shot me a harsh look. "Pick your moments."

  I nodded stiffly, holding my breath and tensing every muscle in my body so I didn't run out there. Bellamy was looking one hundred percent done with life, and every inch of his handsome face was covered by a combination of either dirt of blood, and I am sure I didn't look much better. 

"When the horse reaches that tree," she pointed to a tall oak, "you run out and cut the bonds, be as quiet as you can, and nobody has to die." 

 I nodded, and as soon as the horse reached it's designated spot, I shot from the bushes, pretending I was back on the Ark, running from guards. Finn spotted me almost immediately, his lips parted to form a perfect O, and I made a sharp, 'shut the hell up' gesture. Bellamy turned around next, his eyes widening and his lips curling into a small smile. I reached him first, taking my knife and sawing at the harsh seat belt-like material tying his wrists. I struggled to cut and walk sideways at the same time, praying I wouldn't trip. 

 For once, my clumsiness wasn't the problem. 

 The problem was two screaming teenagers running from the trees. 

 "The fuck?" I questioned, recognizing Monroe immediately, Bellamy sighed deeply, taking the liberty to face-palm as I got his restraints off. Before anyone could react, three gunshots sounded, and red blossomed from the Grounders chest, sending him pitching forward to the ground. 

 I jumped in surprise, but ran over to Finn and sliced his bonds off, turning and blinking rapidly, trying to make sure I wasn't seeing things. Marcus Kane stepped out from the bushes, Phia in front of him, a gun aimed at her head. 

 "We're here now... it'll all be okay." 

 "Bitch shut up!" I shot back, and I guess that wasn't the response he was expecting that response, as his eyebrows shot so far up his forehead they almost disappeared in his hair. Phia didn't look frightened, more... bored. "Let her go!" 

 Instead of responding, throngs of more Ark people filed from the tree's making my mouth fall open as someone else replaced Kane's gun to Phia's head as the man himself bent down to clarify that the Grounder was dead.  

"Nathan?" 

 My head shot up when the familiar voice rang through my mind. I looked up, expecting to find someone different. No, there she was, in all her glory, Abby Griffin stared at me, her eyes wide, a small cut on her forehead, but very much alive. 

 "Abby-" I muttered, running forward to I could embrace her. I was shaking slightly with relief, and had to bend down to hug her. It has been two years since I have last hugged Abby Griffin. And look at how much I have changed since just my time on the ground. 

 "Look at how big you are!" She exclaimed, unshed tears shining in her eyes as she ran her hand across the side of my face. A motherly gesture, something alien to me. "You're eighteen now, aren't you?" 

 "Yeah," I grinned sheepishly, hoping she didn't base off of first impressions, as my entire body was covered in blood, and I was holding a rather large knife. The last time she saw me, I was fifteen, crying in a hallway and being dragged to a cell. 

 "Is Clarke-" 

 "I haven't seen Clarke... but I think I know where she is." 

 Abby nodded in disappointment, patting my shoulder and allowing me to run over to Bellamy, who truly looked worse for wear. I managed a small smile, ducking so he could wrap an arm around my shoulder and I could help him stand. "Hey, Blake, you look like shit." 

 "You always look like shit." He countered, smiling lightly and leaning his head on mine, his way of a hug. "I'm glad you're okay, Sunshine." 

 "Right back at you." 

"Where did you say Clarke was?" Abby asked, jogging over to Bellamy and I, worry dancing in her eyes, I tightened my grip around the other boys stomach slightly, making him wince, but not complain. "We can take you to her." 

 Kane barked out some orders to the guards, and Phia stood there, arms crossed, lips parted as she blew a strand of hair from her face. "We're splitting up, Sinclair, take her back to camp." 

 I was about to cut in, but he turned to point as us before I could. 

 "You three, lead the way." 

 A/N: Yay! Season two!

 This is also going to be known as 'the season of character development' because you will be seeing a lot of that in Nate! Like, a lot, it'll be awesome! 

 And yes, Nathamy is doin' good, although they aren't technically canon yet! 

 Thanks for reading, and please vote and comment!