GROUNDER - The 100, B.B

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐ 007 - Lincoln

Sylva

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

"Hey, tie him! Tie him up!" Bellamy's voice rings out sharply, his tone filled with urgency and frustration as he commands the boys to secure Lincoln. One of the younger guys rushes to press a cloth against Drew's bleeding neck while the others hastily begin to bind Lincoln, making sure the ropes are tight and secure. Bellamy watches them intently, his face a mask of grim determination. "The last thing we need is this bastard escaping because you screwed up!"

The hatch creaks open again, and Octavia bursts through, her eyes widening in horror as she takes in the scene before her. The sight of Lincoln, bruised, bloody, and being restrained, stops her in her tracks.

"Octavia, get out of here!" Bellamy's voice hardens as he turns to face his sister, his protective instincts flaring up. He steps toward her, trying to shield her from the sight of the man she cares about, now reduced to a prisoner.

"I told you, he was protecting me," Octavia pleads, her voice trembling with emotion as she defends Lincoln. "You didn't have to do this, Bellamy."

Bellamy's jaw tightens, and his gaze flickers with a mix of anger and resolve. "This isn't about you, O. I'm doing this for all of us."

Their voices fade into the background as my attention zeroes in on Lincoln. His face is a mess of cuts and bruises, his expression dazed as he slowly regains consciousness. Every bruise on his skin feels like a mark of the cruelty of these people who have held me captive for days. It takes Lincoln a moment to fully become aware of his surroundings, and when he does, his eyes lock onto mine.

Drew, still holding the cloth to his neck, and Miller move to grab Octavia on Bellamy's orders, trying to force her downstairs. But she wrestles free, her desperation and loyalty to Lincoln giving her strength.

"I don't even think they speak English!" she shouts, her voice laced with frustration. "They won't understand you." With one last defiant look, she storms down the ladder, leaving us alone with our captors.

Lincoln finally recognizes me fully, his eyes widening in alarm as he sees the state I'm in. Without hesitation, he begins to struggle against his restraints, the ropes straining as he tries to free himself. My heart sinks at the sight, knowing the futility of his efforts.

"Nou dula op!" (Don't!) I yell at him, the words bursting from me in Trigedasleng, the only language I trust with my pain. The Sky People freeze, their eyes widening in shock as they hear me speak for the first time, even if it's not in their tongue.

Lincoln's gaze is filled with desperation and anger as he looks at me, his struggles intensifying. "Chek yu au! Emo torch yu op!" (Look at you! They tortured you!) he argues, his voice cracking with the weight of seeing me like this.

I close my eyes for a moment, the weight of his words crashing over me like a wave. When I open them, I shake my head slowly, trying to convey the gravity of our situation. "Jos..." I begin, my voice barely above a whisper as I glance warily at the Sky People surrounding us. "Nou dula tel emo op enti." (Just... Don't tell them anything.)

The tension in the air is palpable, the silence that follows heavy with the unspoken understanding between Lincoln and me. We are both trapped, but I refuse to let them break us any further. I can see the resolve hardening in Lincoln's eyes, and I know he understands. We might be prisoners, but they will not take our will, our spirit. Not without a fight.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐

Bellamy paces back and forth across the floor of the dropship, his frustration simmering just below the surface. The tension in the room is thick, made even more oppressive by the silence that hangs between us all. Neither Lincoln nor I have spoken a word to our captors, and Bellamy's patience is wearing thin. Suddenly, a loud bang echoes from outside, the sound reverberating through the metal walls. I can hear the rain now, pounding relentlessly against the dropship, a clear indication that a storm is raging outside.