The Grounder (The 100 FanFiction) {DISCONTINUED}

{4} One of Them

I looooove Bob Morley. He's so hot!

Ok. Chapter four.

If you have any questions, comments, complaints, concerns, or HELPFUL criticism, please feel free to message me.

enjoy!

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Bellamy woke up, to his amazement. He opened his eyes slowly, groaning at the pain all over his body. His head particularly was throbbing. He started to sit up when someone placed one hand on his good shoulder and the other on his chest.

"Don't get up," they said, pushing him down. Bellamy listened without realizing it, and he lied back down. He looked up at the person.

She was rather small in both height and frame, but Bellamy could see the defined muscles in her neck and arms. Her slightly tanned skin was spotted with random freckles. She had long, brown hair that was on the verge of curling. Her brown eyes had a certain look to them, like she was reading everything about you with just one look. They sparkled with yellow speckles in the light, and it made her whole face light up. She had a colony of freckles on her nose and cheeks that made her look younger than her serious expression did. She seemed to be a little younger than him. She wore simple clothes; loose, green cargo pants, black boots and a brown long sleeve top. Her pants had extra pockets sewn on made of mix matched fabrics.

Then Bellamy noticed that she had blood and dirt caked on her hands and in her nails. Her face had a few smears of dirt on it. She had tribal tattoos on her hands that traveled up her sleeves.

She was a Grounder.

Bellamy's panicked eyes flickered to his sides, trying to find his gun. He finally found where it was, which was on the complete other side of the room.

The girl followed his eyes and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't bother," she said. "You're too weak. With the infection you have in your arm, I'd be surprised if you could even pick it up."

"What happened? Where am I?" Bellamy demanded.

"You were hurt and the fog was getting closer, so instead of having you try to kill me, I knocked you out and dragged you to this cave." she explained. She cleaned off her dirty hands in a puddle.

"You did what?" he asked, still nervous about her presence.

She took out a piece of cloth and wetted it with the water from a different puddle. "You're welcome," was all she said.

Bellamy was silent as she cleaned the wound on his leg. She had cut a square in the fabric of his pants to get at the cut. She gently dabbed the blood from it, cleaning her piece of cloth in water every so often. Bellamy had no idea what to do. She was right, he was completely helpless. His arm, head and leg were all causing him an excruciating amount of pain. He was weak from hunger and thirst, and had no way to defend himself.

So he let his enemy clean his wound. She pulled out a needle and thread and began to sew up his gash. It hurt, and the sensation of the thread tugging on his skin was strange, but he kept quiet. Eventually she was done, and she clean the cut a bit more because it had started to bleed again.

"No more walking or any activity that will put pressure on that wound. Got it?" she said.

Bellamy paused, bewildered by her sense of casualty of the situation. "Yeah," he replied.

She nodded slightly and then moved to the other side of him to look at his shoulder. She helped him sit up against the wall of the cave. The Grounder seemed to have put a temporary bandage on the wound beforehand, but was now taking it off. She got out a new needle and threw the other one into the darkness of the cave. She ripped off a piece of cloth from the hem of her shirt, which she began to use to clean the gash. She went through the same process as before, though the cut bled a lot more during stitching. When she was finished, she put a wad of gauze on the wound and secured it with tape. She then began taping Bellamy's bicep to his side.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stopping her.

"You can't move this arm," she replied as she finished taping. "You'll open the wound."

Bellamy watched her as she cleaned her hands and put away her roll of gauze.

Eventually he asked, "Why did you save me?"

"It's what I do," she replied simply.

"But you're my enemy," he said gruffly.

"Saving your life makes me your enemy?" she shot back at him.

He paused.

"You're a Grounder. You're one of them," he finally said.

She sat down and leaned against the wall next to him. She reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a little bag. She poured one berry into her palm.

"Some berries are sweet and good for you. Some are poisonous and can kill you in a minute. But you'll never know if the berry is good or bad until you try it."

She held out her palm to Bellamy, offering him the berry. He didn't take it, though his stomach ached with hunger.

"I'll make you a deal," she muttered with a sly smile. "If you think this is a good berry then you can have the whole bag and you can leave whenever you want. If you think it's a bad berry then you have to let me nurse you back to health. You have to decide if you trust me or not."

Bellamy debated. He wanted to get out of that cave and back to camp, but she was a Grounder. He couldn't trust her. Just because she had done one nice thing for him didn't mean she was a good person.

She moved her hand forward a bit, offering him the berry again. He hesitantly shook his head no. The pain in his stomach grew as she slowly lifted the berry to her lips and ate it. She wouldn't eat a berry she knew was poisonous. He lost the bet.

"I can't say I'm surprised," she said as she ate a few more. Bellamy leaned his head back in regret. "Why would any sane person put their trust in a stranger?"

She reached into one of her pants pockets and pulled out another bag.

"Here," She placed it on his good thigh. "Blueberries. Non-deadly and very common."

He reached his hand into the bag and pulled out a few berries. He recognized them as blueberries. He looked over at the girl. What game was she playing? Why wasn't she trying to kill him?

She looked up, realizing he was staring at her.

"Seriously?" she said. She took a blueberry from the bag and ate it. "There. See? Not poisonous. Now eat."

Bellamy decided that he was in no position to fight, so he began eating the blueberries. He'd let the Grounder nurse him back to health and then he'd go back to camp. He'd defeat the Grounders in the war. She was his enemy. That's how it had to be.

That's how it always would be.