"What's their problem with us? What did we ever do to them?"
‧ ✩ ｡ ✭ ° ☆ ･ _______ ･ ☆ ° ✭ ｡ ✩ ‧
"The blade is at a sharp upward angle. Between his sixth and seventh rib," Clarke reports as she paces back and forth through the dropship.
"Okay, how deep?" Griffin inquiries from the radio.
Clarke and Amber's eyes meet, but Amber shakes her head. They have no idea how far the knife reaches into Finn's body.
"We can't tell how deep it goes," Clarke admits and stops next to Amber on the opposite side of Finn from Raven.
"That's alright," Griffin says with a calm and confident voice, even though Amber knows how bad all of this is. "Just don't remove the knife yet."
Clarke takes the canister from the table and pours some more moonshine onto her hands. She eyes Raven who rocks from side to side as she presses one hand against her head, the only thing she can really do to quell the anxiety. Despite the distress she's in, it's clear she won't leave Finn's side.
"Here," Clarke holds out the canister for her. "Sterilize your hands."
Raven takes it but downs a few gulps of the alcohol, causing her to cough, before she pours some on her hands like she's been told. Amber watches her. She'd take a few sips herself if it wouldn't raise any questionable looks from Clarke, but she needs a stable mind if she wants to be of any support.
"Do you see any fluid?" Griffin questions.
"Hey, watch it!" someone shouts. Two guys from the crowd start shoving each other, settling whatever conflict they have the same way stupid boys always do.
"Damn it," Clarke curses and motions to Raven. "Clear the room."
"Everyone, upstairs!" Raven shouts above the turmoil and claps her hands together to get the room's attention. "Let's go! Now!"
Amber holds her hand gently against Finn's forehead. "He's a bit warm," she warns Clarke.
Griffin hears her and answers, "That's alright."
But Amber's voice has still alerted Raven and she quickly returns, letting the crowd who are slowly leaving the room sort themselves out.
"Fever sometimes accompanies trauma," Griffin explains. "Now, I need you to tell me if there is any fluid leaking from the wound."
Clarke leans down to get a closer look, but besides the surrounding dried blood, there's nothing.
"No," she declares.
"Pleural membrane's intact," Griffin says with relief. "That's good. That's actually really good, he got lucky."
Raven lowers her head close to Finn's.
"You hear that?" she mumbles through a wide smile. "You're lucky."
"Okay, Clarke," Griffin says, announcing that it's time. "Firm grip on the knife. You're gonna need to angle it upward and to the left, very slightly to the left, as it exits the rib cage."
Clarke takes a slow breath. "How very slightly?" she asks, holding her hands out above Finn's body, ready for the final instructions.
"Three mil- Clarke?" The radio cuts out. "Three-"
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 | the 100¹
Fanfiction"I happen to like killers." "And I happen to hate arsonists." ˚₊ ✭ ｡ﾟ ☆ ･ ✭ ° ‧ ✩ * ₊ ‧ Amber Hale's habit to stay in the shadows becomes a challenge when she's sent down to Earth with 99 other criminals. W...
