─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

AS MORE TIME WENT BY, JUNE FELT HERSELF BECOME ONLY WORSE. Her body was much weaker, the sickness taking over. She had gotten more pale, a few streaks of blood from her nose, chin, and eyes over the skin. She had gotten sick more than once, coughing up blood violently, feeling frightened that she'd be the next to roll over and die. She didn't want her friends to end up in the same state. Instead of worrying for herself, June made sure to wander around the dropship where more delinquents in an equally poor state joined them, making sure they were comfortable with water and buckets.

Head spinning, June stumbled to where Clarke had a light pointed in Octavia's wide mouth. A cloth was pressed to both hers and Bellamy's mouth cautiously as he watched closely. June cleared her scratchy throat, approaching just as Clarke finished. "Okay, we're done," she informed Bellamy. "No visible signs of swelling or bleeding."

"So you're saying she doesn't have it?" Bellamy asked eagerly, his voice muffled through the cloth.

"I'm saying she doesn't have symptoms, but that could change," Clarke told him weakly, leaning against the ladder for support. June frowned at the sight, resting on the other side. "We need to keep her here just in case."

Bellamy shook his head. "No way," he argued. "Look at this place. She'll get sick just being here."

"You want the outside to be like this too?" June countered. "Octavia was the first to touch Murphy. We have to stop this from spreading."

Nodding in agreement, Clarke motioned to the upper level. "Look, I'll keep her on the third level with the people who aren't symptomatic yet," she offered before saying what she'd knew would get Bellamy to cave. "Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out again."

Octavia scoffed before snapping. "Screw you, Clarke."

Allowing Octavia access, Clarke stepped to the side. "I'll let you know if her condition changes," she says. Bellamy gave in, although June could see the dislike on his face as he finally left the dropship.

"What do we do now?" June questioned Clarke in a short mumble as Octavia started climbing up the ladder. They quarantined for now, but they had to consider other options to somehow make it through the sickness Murphy unknowingly brought.

Holding her hand up, Clarke waved to Octavia to stop her. "Octavia, wait. I need you to sneak out again," she said. June could hear the desperateness in her voice, knowing the need Clarke had to save everyone. But she caught on too quickly, ears perking up despite the weakness in her muscles at the new choice. "We need a cure before we lose more people," Clarke continued tiredly. "Your friend, the grounder - "

"Lincoln," Octavia interrupted her in a mumble. "His name is Lincoln."

Lips pressed more firmly together, Clarke gave her a curt nod. "Lincoln," she repeated. "He might have the cure for this." Octavia seemed to be more than glad to leave, practically dashing out of the dropship and heading straight for their tunnels. June sighed in relief, holding onto the ladder for leverage and to keep herself on her feet. She shut her eyes for a moment, a pound in her head arising, wondering when this would pass - if it would. They've already lost a few to it, ones who weren't lucky enough to breathe as they coughed on their blood.

"June." Clarke saying her name softly had June letting her eyelids flicker open and stare back in question. "You should go lay down," she suggested, noticing the way she was barely standing without gripping the ladder. "Drink some water, cough if you need to."

A snort came from June, along with a small, amused smile. "I don't see you getting any rest," she pointed out with a tilt of her head. "There's too many of us sick here, and I'm much more worried about them. They need help." As if it was on cue, a female delinquent in the corner of the dropship started coughing, the sound wet and rough. June sent one last lingering gaze to her friend before pushing her weight off the ladder and wandering towards the noise.

As June patted the ill female's back comfortingly, waiting until she managed to cough up the blood lodging in her throat so she could rush to get her some water, June pondered in her thoughts about Murphy. When she looked up, she could see him resting on a hanging sheet with his eyes shut. She remembered when she hated him more than any person in this camp for taunting Wells, even trying to kill him in vengeance for his father when he had done nothing. June's jaw clenched at the memory, but she said nothing. She knew his banishment was still in place, and he'd be gone once this blew over.

Although the time was before, and they were here now, June couldn't help but feel as if Murphy was only a ticking time bomb that would go off and take whoever is in his way with him. June tore her stare away as she poured water into a cup held by a trembling hand, a familiar unsettling emotion stirring in her chest.

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June didn't consider chaos would be the first thing to erupt when the sickness washed over half their camp, including the gunners. She felt the same as time went by, possibly a little better after forcing herself to move around the dropship so much, taking some two minute breaks for a drink or to shut her eyes for time to herself momentarily. It was as June was helping a new ill male into an orange blanket and settling him next to a bucket that havoc arose just outside of Clarke's quarantine inside the dropship.

"Take this if you cough up anything," June instructed, sliding the bucket beside him. "If you can't breathe - " She was cut off by the sound of shouting, various delinquents exclaiming words she couldn't understand as they blended into one another with the sound of fear. Her head shot up at the sound. "Hey, you!" June exclaimed as loud as she could to the first one she could see. "He'll get sick soon. If he can't breathe, roll him on his side," she ordered, not waiting for a respond or a nod before she was stumbling to her feet and heading straight for the opening.

"Calm down!" June recognized Bellamy's voice echoing through the camp, trying to silence everyone.

"Put that gun down. Put it down!" Finn called out next, having June attempt to limp faster.

As soon as June's hand brushed the edge of the cloth in front of the opening, it was ripped to the side and she came face to face with Clarke, startling her. "Everyone - everyone is pointing guns at each other, and, and..." She stammered anxiously, desperately trying to find words.

"Here." An idea popped in June's head. She stepped to the side, grabbing the first gun she saw and pushed the firearm into Clarke's hands. Clarke loaded it quickly with shaking hands, moving back out of the dropship, the cloth falling behind her, showing a shadow. She lifted the gun in the air, and a gunshot echoed, the bullet flying to the sky.

A wave of dizziness washed over June, but she steadied herself by balancing her hand on the wall and hearing Clarke's speech. "This is exactly what the grounders want. Don't you see that?" Footsteps thudded as she walked down the open door. "They don't have to kill us if we kill each other first."

"Hey," someone spoke to June, voice laced with concern despite the roughness. "Are you alright?"

June recognized it immediately, holding her hand up to stop the other from getting closer. It was Murphy, backing away, but not far enough. "Get away from me," she managed to snarl out through gritted teeth before her vision was beginning to dot with black and she had almost fallen to the ground, having pushed herself too far earlier.

Refusing to comply, as he always had, Murphy lurched forward and managed to catch her. June felt both awake and unconscious, unable to protest in more tired sneers as he threw her arm over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, shut up," he mumbled thinly, dragging her across the dropship's ground. "Just let me help." June's limbs were too slack and weak to fight back, and she allowed herself to be helped into a crumple of cloths in a corner.

It was comforting to rest in the position, propped against the wall with her eyes shut. June kept an arm wrapped around her chest that rose and fell with each breath, waiting until she felt well enough to open her eyes again. Her vision was clearer this time, her head still aching, but she pushed it aside. Remembering who exactly had helped her, June pulled a tight frown across her mouth before pushing herself off the heap of cloths in time to see Finn carrying Clarke in the dropship with Octavia on their heels.

"What do I have to do to stop you from coming in here?" Clarke muttered to Finn, her head falling on his shoulder.

Finn scanned the area in the dropship, searching for a spot safe enough to place Clarke while answering her question. "Get better."

"That might be difficult," June piped in, causing eyes to face her as she staggered towards them. "Unless we have a cure." It came out as a question, along with a hopeful stare to Octavia.

It was shot down with a small shake of Octavia's head. "There isn't one," she said apologetically. "But if Finn isn't sick by now, then he's probably immune like me."

June tightly smiled. "Lucky him."

"Here," Murphy suddenly announced to Finn. "Come on." June turned to see him sliding off the same hanging cloth she saw him resting in as an offering. "She can take mine." Finn nodded in thanks, settling Clarke in the sheet and she rests back.

"What else did Lincoln tell you?" Finn questioned Octavia, still remaining close to Clarke.

"The virus doesn't last long," Octavia replied.

From where he sat on a barrel, Murphy leaned back and spoke. "It's true," he confirmed. "I feel better."

Ignoring Murphy and what he had to input, despite thinking this was the best news she's heard since falling sick, June nudged Octavia's shoulder. "Anything else?" She questioned. "I can feel the bad news coming."

"You're right," Octavia said, holding her hand out to catch her like June would pass out again any second. "He also sent a warning. They attack at first light."

It was hard to be surprised, but June was more in despair by the news than anything. She knew an attack had to be coming after they sent Murphy as a weapon to infect them all, but it still was difficult to hear. June nodded with a clenched jaw, brushing her stray hairs out of her face that had been sticking there. They'd come up with something to stop it, she told herself as she watched Finn bring Clarke a cup of water. They always do.

"They need to stay hydrated." Clarke denied Finn's offer by nudging the cup with her hand.

"You need to stay hydrated," Finn retorted, forcibly bringing the rim of the cup back to Clarke's mouth.

This time, Clarke reluctantly accepted it and took a few sips before handing it back. "Them, too," she pleaded after clearing her throat. "Please?"

"It's okay," Octavia spoke up, stepping past Finn and taking the cup. "I'll do it. Just rest." She turned back, gently pushing June back. "You too," she commanded softly. "You've been at this all day. You can hardly stand."

Knowing Octavia was right, June nodded, holding a hand up. "Not yet," she responded. "Just let me help - "

"No." Murphy rose, joining the pair and sending a sharp look to June that she could see despite the blood. "I'll help her. Just go take a nap."

"I don't take orders from you of all people," June snapped back, an edge in her voice that was a clear warning despite the tiredness.

Octavia put her hand in front of June when she took a step forward, forcing her back. "Then take my orders," she stated calmly. "We got this. You need a break," she said strictly. It made June realize how tired she was, so exhausted it overpowered the stubbornness. She didn't like it, but she nodded in acceptance.

As soon as June found her former spot in the bundle of cloths, falling and curling into them, her eyes fluttered shut. In a minute, she had drifted off into a sleep with her mind whirring of the new upcoming war against the survivors of the nuclear bombs.

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June awoke with a sudden jolt, her body twitching. She hadn't realized the need to cough until she tasted the metallic liquid lodged in her throat. Her head fell forward and she threw her head forward, letting out a series of coughs as her hand came to clutch at her chest. Blood spewed from her mouth, splattering the dropship floor beneath her. It soon ceased, and June breathed deeply in relief, hand coming up to brush the sleeve of her jacket against the blood dribbling from her nose.

Starting at the sound of a cup bouncing off the ground, June picked her head up to see Murphy crouched in front of Bellamy. He had to be sick, she thought to herself, noticing the blood decorating his face and the pale tone in contrast to his tan skin. But he apparently hadn't been sick enough to deny help from the one he hated most, Murphy, by being the one to throw aside the cup with a dark glare and words familiar to June's earlier ones that were loud enough for her to overhear. "Get the hell away from me."

"Bellamy, you're sick, okay?" Murphy said, sounding irritated. "I'm just trying to help." He tried to hand him a rag next, but Bellamy only brought his jacket sleeve up and rubbed it against his nose with a loud sniffle.

Sighing to herself, June picked up a sheet and tore it until she ended up with a decently sized cloth. She rose to her feet, realizing how much better she had felt, despite the earlier coughing fit as she joined Clarke in approaching Bellamy with offerings. "Here," Clarke said, handing Bellamy a cup of water that he accepted, taking large sips out of it.

"Take this too, wipe that shit off your face," June suggested, crouching on the other side of Bellamy. As he lowered the cup, she brought the rag to his face and gave him a hand in wiping the blood mixed with snot until he was more clean than before. June could only assume Bellamy was recently sick by how weak he was, and was concerned, but had a feeling he'd be better soon like the rest of them.

"Thank you," Bellamy said to her in a quiet, muffled tone before June lowered the cloth. "Have you seen Octavia?" June shook her head, her long nap keeping her from keeping an eye on his sister.

"She was up all night helping people," Clarke answered. "Murphy gave her a break."

The way Clarke said Murphy's name had Bellamy narrowing his eyes. "Don't tell me you trust him now." June couldn't help but agree, leaning forward to send a gaze to Clarke in wonder, wanting to know what could have changed.

"Trust?" Clarke repeated. "No. I do believe in second chances, though."

Although Clarke was right, June rubbed her hand down her face, resting it on her chin. She didn't like Murphy, maybe never would, but they had to consider the torment he went through to want to come back to the place he had been banished from. "It's almost dawn," Bellamy noted, breaking June from her long musing. "Better get everyone inside. If we lock the doors, maybe the grounders will think we're not home."

"Yeah?" June asked. "Where do they think we would have gone? Back to space?"

Bellamy loosely shrugged. "Hopefully."

"And, not everyone is sick," Clarke pointed out.

"Sick is better than dead." Bellamy was right, again. June was sure the delinquents would rather have the chance of falling sick than falling dead in a war too difficult to win.

"You don't think Finn and Jasper will be able to blow the bridge," Clarke spoke in wonder, causing June's forehead to crease, figuring she must have missed a bit while sleeping. Even so, it was a good plan to slow the grounders down until they were healed.

With one last sniffle, Bellamy turned his head to give Clarke a knowing stare. "Do you?"

Clarke's light blue eyes flickered to June's before she sighed and gestured for her friend to follow her. "We'll get everyone inside."

The wind was nice on June's pale skin, even calming for the continuous sick feeling. She breathed in the fresh air deeply, glad when it filled her lungs. She couldn't stay focused on it for too long, knowing that they had to work on making sure everyone would be safe inside the dropship with the doors shut. June was leading two people sharing a blanket with clean rags covering their mouths when she heard the bang.

Caught off guard, June slowly turned, unsure of what she was expecting. But it wasn't the large, gray and white mushroom cloud forming in the sky. She should have been astonished, but she was more happy at the view compared to any other emotion. It was the nicest sight June had seen all day. Even the others in their large group heading inside the dropship had paused to look in the distance with admiration.

"They did it," Bellamy breathed out from a few feet away. His dark eyes were wide in a awe, equally pleased by the cloud.

From beside him, Clarke let out a low mumble of a quote with her gaze firmly locked in the sky. It wiped the smile off June's face when she realized just how well it fits them and their terms.

"I am become death, destroyer of worlds."