SAVIOUR, BELLAMY BLAKE ( 1 )

SEVENTEEN

"Grounders with guns!" Someone shouts from the crowd.

"Damn right! I say let 'em come!" Bellamy shouts.

"Bellamy's right," Clarke circles the man, staring out at the crowd. "If we leave, we may never find a place as safe as this. And God knows, in this world, we could be faced with something even worse tomorrow. But that doesn't change the simple fact that if we stay here, we will die tonight. So pack your things. Just take what you can carry, now."

Grace presses her lips into a firm line, catching Bellamy's eye from beside Clarke. This was their home. She didn't want to leave, she wanted to fight for her home. But, it was too late. Everyone was rushing around and packing to leave.

"Help me!"

Grace's head whips around as Raven stumbles into the camp, hand clutching her side. Blood seeped from an unknown wound there. Grace jogs towards the gate, watching as Finn pulled her into his arms and started towards the dropship on Clarke's orders.

Grace catches hold of her arm as she tries to leave, stopping her in her tracks. Clarke's eyes drift down towards the itchy material that was wrapped around Grace's wrists. "What happened?"

"Never mind that now," Grace sighs, pushing the thoughts from earlier away. "Clarke, leaving here is a mistake."

"The decisions been made," Clarke tears her eyes away from her friends wrists, drifting to Bellamy who came up beside the redhead.

"Crowds make bad decisions. Just ask Murphy," Bellamy strains. "Leaders do what they think is right."

Grace watches the girls determined features, trying to figure her out. She sighs and takes a step back, removing her hand from the girl. "She is."

Clarke nods her head before she turns and jogs into the dropship to help Raven. Grace turns towards Bellamy, finally letting down her walls as she saw his concerned gaze. She didn't think twice before she stepped closer and pulled him into another hug. "They're coming tonight, and we may very well die, Bell—"

"Don't," Bellamy mumbles into her neck, his hold on her tightening. "Don't you dare say goodbye. You're not dying tonight."

"Bell, you don't know that—" Grace mumbles into his chest, her heart clenching. He pulls away, his eyes filled with determination.

"No, I do," he says firmly. "You're strong, and brave, and you're going to survive," a pause. "You got that, sweetheart? You're going to survive this war."

Grace purses her lips but nods her head. "Only if you do too."

He sends her a small smile. "I'll try my best."

It was all she could ask for.

✧

Grace did her best to ignore the yells of pain from Raven as she cauterize the bullet hole. It sizzled and bubbled and the stench of burning flesh forced bile into Grace's throat. She swallowed thickly as she took away the hot knife.

"That should stop the external bleeding," Clarke informed them all. Grace's eyes drifted to Bellamy who was standing beside Raven with a worried expression. After everything that had happened, Grace almost forgot that her and Bellamy had slept together.

She adverted her eyes when Bellamy caught her staring.

"I don't understand," Finn mutters, his hand wrapped tightly around Raven's as she groaned and grunted. "How did Murphy get a gun?"