When Songbirds Fly | Bellamy Blake

Chapter Twenty-One: Angel of Death

When the gates to Camp Jaha open for us, the sight of Abby striding towards us immediately brings me some comfort.

She comes to a stop in front of us, frowning when she sees my poorly bandaged hands and the absence of our friend. Her gaze then zeroes in on Mel. 'I know you. Factory Station. Where are the others?'

'There are no others.'

'Found her a day from here,' Bellamy explains, hands resting on his hips as he surveys the area around us. 'No survivors, lots of supplies.'

The woman nods to one of the civilians listening on. 'Get her to medical. Wren, Monroe, you too.'

A single step is all I manage to take before I'm tackled by a crushing grip and a bush of greasy blonde hair.

'Thank God you guys are okay,' Clarke gasps as she moves back a little, yanking Bellamy into our embrace.

One of his arms wraps tightly around her while the other rests softly but firmly around my waist. A quiet chuckle escapes me, 'Guess you could say that.'

The three of us finally pull away. Clarke moves over to hug Octavia but I still feel an arm around me, fingers splaying out against the small section of skin just above my right hip that my shirt and jackets have failed to cover.

I don't pull away. I'm too exhausted and shaken to really care. Instead, I let the side of my head rest against his as we watch the two girls.

'How many are with you?' Bellamy asks hopefully.

The sound of uneven footsteps soon catches my attention and I look around to see Raven approaching us. My gaze travels down to the makeshift brace fastened tightly around her leg. She grins widely at me, but it fades when we become too aware of Clarke's silence.

The blonde shakes her head, the words barely audible and yet too loud for me to cope with under all of the stress we've been through. 'None.'

Confusion then takes over as she glances over our shoulder at the empty woods beyond the gates. 'Where's Finn?'

'Looking for you.'

—

I sit on one of the rickety beds in Medical, lips pursed together and jaw clenched tightly. Abby kneels in front of me as she dresses my hands with fresh bandages.

'Sorry,' she sighs once the silence becomes too much for either of us to bear, 'I can't help you with the pain. They look like second degree burns, so you'll have to wait three weeks tops for them to heal completely. Don't use them too much and don't let them get too dry.'

I only nod.

Apart from Mel and Monroe, who are both fast asleep in the corners of the room, we are alone. Abby quickly gathers her supplies back into a box and places it on a small table at the side.

With an impatient huff, she turns back to me. Her arms fall limply at her sides after a weak gesture at nothing in particular. 'What the hell happened, Wren?'

I begin to pick at the edges of my bandages. 'Didn't they tell you about the cliff?'

She sends me a disapproving frown, hands resting stubbornly on her hips. 'Don't try to deflect the question. You know what I mean.'

'Yeah, but what exactly do you want me to say? Things went wrong. I fucked up. Here we are. Why's that so surprising?'

'Because I know you. I've known you since before you were even born, Wren, I helped your mom to keep you and your sister hidden. After everything I've risked, do you really think I'd believe that you're a murderer? Honey, you should've come to me about that. I could have helped.'