“Ow, fuck!” I growled as I ground my teeth together, needle stuck in my palm.
Three stitches had been done, but as Octavia and I neared the edge of my palm, my hand became more sensitive. She applied a bit more moonshine to the area, and then I grabbed the bottle from her, downing a generous gulp to numb the pain. There were at least five more stitches needed to be done, and I dreaded that; the wire was thicker than a normal stitch thread would be, and Octavia’s hands were shaky.
“I’m sorry.” She said, “I’m just worried...”
“About Bellamy.” I sighed, relaxing my hand as best as I could as she plunged the needle in again.
She continued to finish the stitching in my hand, “What if he’s hurt, or anyone for that matter…”
“Octavia,” I started, “Bellamy is the strongest person I know, he took care of you and he will take care of the others too.”
She sighed, stabbing my hand slightly with the tip of the needle. I winced, and she apologized under her breath, her mind clearly elsewhere. “They should be back by now.”
I reached out and grabbed her shaky hand, steadying her for both my sake and hers, “It’s only been an hour; they could be out there all night. Just focus on the present, and we will figure it out, once I can close my hand again.”
“Okay.” She breathed, nodding, “You’re right.”
“Besides, it was Bellamy that kept me alive when the fog came; he was smart enough to know the terrain, remembering the caves that kept me and Charlotte safe.” I explained to her, “He’ll be fine.”
In time, she finished stitching my hand, though I doubted that all the stitches were going to stay. I had showed her how to do the first one, but my left hand had so much trouble that I couldn’t try anymore, leaving it in her hands. She had done a good enough job, and if any fell out, I could always try to do it on myself again. The pain in my hand seemed to ease the stress that was in my head; telling me that someone was going to get hurt out there, and there was nothing that I could do.
“Get some rest Octavia…” I said to her as she finished wrapping my hand in a clean-ish shirt I was using for gauze.
“I’ll try.” She obliged, climbing down the hatch.
I followed, making sure to only use one hand to keep myself there, though I had climbed enough ladders in my time not to have any trouble climbing one-handed. Dropping the last few rungs, I landed hard on my feet, feeling the vibration jitter through my shins and into my knees. As I watched Octavia take off to her tent, I glanced around at those who remained at camp. Not many had left in pursuit of Charlotte, and those who were left seemed to have forgotten about the incident.
A large fire was burning, people were fixing tents that had been upturned in the initial fight, and gathering some food, even sorting it. I was impressed; even through the chaos, everyone was still able to come together for what really mattered; survival. The moon hung heavy in the sky, as if it were sad that despite being given a second chance, us humans couldn’t handle the task.
When the rain began to fall, I took cover under a tarp that had been placed over a small fire. Everyone seemed to be heading to sleep, forgetting the capital punishment that had happened only a few hours ago. My body was not as tired as it should have been, but I knew that was because I had slept in so long. And now that everyone was resting, I was glad to be up while waiting to see who was going to return, and who wasn’t.
When Clarke, Finn, Bellamy and the others returned, I saw that Murphy nor Charlotte was there. Rising from my seat, I rushed over and, without thinking, wrapped my arms around Bellamy’s neck. I hadn’t expected him to come back, not with Murphy’s mob; they had been so many more than Bellamy, Clarke and Finn. He wrapped one arm around my waist and held me there for a moment, tighter than I had expected. When I stepped back, I saw that people had gotten out from their tents, coming to see the verdict; what had happened out there.
Bellamy and Clarke explained what had happened; Charlotte jumping from the cliff, banishing Murphy from camp, starting to make some real rules. What was left of our small group that had once been one hundred was finally starting to form something that would work. Everyone seemed to finally… connect.
I felt a hand slip between my fingers, and glanced down to see Bellamy’s hand connecting with my small one. Our fingers intertwined roughly, yet fit like a jigsaw. For the first time in years, I finally felt whole. The chaos had ensued completion; in some twisted way a few deaths had brought us together. I took a step to the side, pulling slightly at Bellamy’s arm, hoping that he would follow me.
The man resisted, looking at me, then pulling me back close to him so that he could wrap his arm around me. His lips found the top of my head, and we sat down on a log in front of the crackling flame. Two young girls, about my age, walked by, looking down at Bellamy and I, then giggling. I bit my tongue, wondering if Bellamy was still looking around for someone to sleep with; was his game to sleep with as many of us as he could? I told myself not to worry about it; he was holding my hand, not theirs.
But his eyes trailed after them, and I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Bellamy Blake was not mine; if he had eyes for someone else there was nothing I could do to stop him. I didn’t expect a relationship with Bellamy; there was something about him that suggested he would never truly be mine. Since I had accepted this, I didn’t feel as much pain when Bellamy rose, leaving me on the log alone and wondering where he was going.
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