Bellarke One Shots Book 2

81) Amor Vincit Omnia

After eating her breakfast with Raven and Jasper, she heads straight for the medbay. Her mom is already there. As soon as she enters, Abby hugs her tightly. "Happy Valentine's Day," she murmurs.

Clarke groans. "Not you too," she replies. "Are you under the impression that this day actually means anything?"

"Oh, come on, Clarke," she sighs. "The people have been under the impression that all the world has to offer is violence and bloodshed. Let them see the world differently today, a world full of love and promise and hope."

The blonde wants to point out that most people dedicate this day to having sex with their significant other, and not to some philosophical and inspiring idea of a beautiful world, but she holds her tongue. No need to get cynical with her mother. "I guess so."

It's silent in the medbay as the Griffins work in peace, Abby cataloguing the amount of medicine they have and Clarke sterilizing the equipment that they used yesterday. Clarke is just rummaging for more moonshine when they hear a commotion outside.

"Somebody help me carry him in!" someone shouts, the voice sounding not too far away. Abby and Clarke both bolt up, rushing toward the entrance, gearing up for another emergency.

"Somebody get Octavia! And can someone please find Clarke and keep her away from here? Is she already at the medbay?" someone else asks loudly, closer to the medbay. Clarke recognizes Miller's voice.

Her heart immediately stops. Her body fills with a sense of dread. No, Clarke thinks. No no no no no.

The next couple seconds happen in a blur as Miller and Kane almost drag somebody in, grunting the whole way to the nearest patient bed. Clarke doesn't even have to look. She already knows who it is, she can feel it in her bones.

Her feet bring her to the patient anyway. "Bellamy," she cries, pushing Miller out of the way. He's there, pale and almost unconscious, his head lolling on the pillow. "Oh my god, Bellamy! What the fuck happened?"

His eyes go in and out of focus, but they stare determinedly at Clarke like he's fighting to keep them open. "I got shot," he weakly croaks.

"Shot?" She looks at his side, finding a growing patch of blood on his shirt. She quickly disposes of his shirt. Her hands go straight for the arrow protruding from his abdomen. Without turning around, she yells, "Mom, get me some cloth and moonshine!"

Somebody places a hand on her shoulder. "I think you should sit this one out, Clarke," Miller advises her. "Let your mom do this."

"No," Clarke snarls, her hands pushing the hair off Bellamy's forehead gently, a contrast to her harsh, biting tone. "I have to do this. Mom, hurry up!" She can get the stuff without her mom's help, but she refuses to leave Bellamy's side.

"He's right," Abby objects. She moves to stand next to Clarke, examining the arrow and the amount of blood leaving Bellamy's body. She quickly places a cloth around the wound and cleans it, drenching his side with moonshine. Bellamy hisses. "A little warning would be nice," he pants.

"Mom!" Clarke admonishes, trying to push her away. "Mom, I got this."

"No, you don't." She looks to Miller. "Get her out of here."

Miller grabs her arm, gently trying to pull her away, but Clarke holds on tightly to Bellamy's hand. "No! Mom, I can help!"

Abby swivels to face her daughter. "No, you can't! You're too involved, Clarke!" She shoots her a knowing look before turning back to Bellamy's wound.

"Clarke, I'm fine," Bellamy assures her, his eyes like slits. He can barely keep them open. "Go. I'm going to be okay."

She presses a chaste kiss on his forehead before letting Miller take her away from him.