𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓, the 100

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍, breaking rules (because they're bullshit!)

   "𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝"

      𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄, letting out a huff of annoyance as she takes the bandages that Sam found and wraps her ankle. It hurts like a bitch, and she really thinks she should stop getting herself involved in anything that happens around the camp. 

      Clarke is busy in the dropship, dealing with the makeshift radio Sam and Monty have worked so hard on. Sam told the other boy that he could finish setting up the radio without him, because he wanted to make sure Makayla was okay. She tried to convince him to go deal with the radio and establish communication with the Ark, even if it isn't the best, but he continues to say that he's fine with helping her wrap her ankle. 

      She sits outside the camp walls, a few feet away from the main entrance and sitting atop a large rock. She has her ankle in front of her, sock barely covering her toes as she wraps it up. She winces from the touch, her ankle swelling up to how it was the first time she got the injury. She can feel Sam's eyes on her, and she looks up to see him staring straight at her ankle.

      "Stop staring, Sam. It's just a sprained ankle" She says, making Sam look up and roll his eyes. She feels like there's something different about him - he's not in his feels as much as he was before. She assumes he must've found something that could help with the radios, though she doesn't know when he would've found anything, given the fact that he was on the run with Charlotte all night, but she brushes it off as a weird mechanic thing that he does.

      She hears him scoff as she tries to hide another wince from him. "You were a hostage all night, Mick! I'm just trying to make sure you're okay".

      "You should be in the dropship with the radio. You worked hard on that, you should be there when we can finally talk to them" She counters, but he shakes his head. As much as she loves her best friend, she thinks he should be one of the first ones to contact the Ark. It shouldn't be any of the others who've done no work to establish communication.

      They fall back into a comfortable silence as she continues to wrap her ankle. She figures that Monty and the others are putting the last pieces of the radio together, anticipation flooding their veins as they inch towards having communication with those who can help them. She knows that they can't survive off of makeshift laws and unspecified routines forever, and eventually the camp will go to shit. Clarke and Bellamy's reign over the camp probably won't last forever, but she hopes it does.