Saturn [BELLAMY BLAKE BOOK 1]

25... the war we've waited for

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Chapter Twenty-Five

"Bellamy, its fine, just leave it."

Ivy sighed as she watched Bellamy cut her favorite- and let it be known that they're her only— pair of jeans, just above where the wound she had procured from Murphy was. With the tourniquet she had tied still doing it's job, they were able to get some visibility on the wound without all the blood pooling out of it. As she examined it for herself, Ivy grimaced at the sight of her own muscle tissue staring back at her. Murphy had blown a piece of her leg off the side like he was trimming fat. She looked away before it made her stomach sick.

Bellamy watched her wince as he carefully peeled the material back, and slid her pant leg down. She was now left with a ridiculous pair of faded black jeans which looked like half pants and half shorts. She should consider herself lucky that it wasn't any worse. She would much rather her leg be injured than her head or chest. Not to mention that her attire was the least of their problems. Still, she took Bellamy's knife and started cutting her other pant leg off.

"If Clarke's gonna make us walk miles through uneven terrain to an ocean where something's bound to go wrong and we'll probably end having to swim, we're gonna at least properly bandage your leg." He stated, taking a wet piece of clothe and wiping up the blood on her skin around her wound.

Chuckling at his prediction, Ivy rolled her eyes. "Fair enough." She couldn't help but admit to herself that she liked him taking care of her. It gave her a sense of security that she needed now more than ever. And it felt familiar to her, seeing as Bellamy had always taken care of her. It's part of what brought him to the ground. If it wasn't completely for Octavia, it was for her. She liked that notion.

Once all the blood was clear, Ivy cringed as Bellamy picked up the bottle of alcohol which he was going to use to clean the wound. Glancing up to look her in the eyes as a fair warning for the pain that was about to occur, Bellamy proceeded to pour the alcohol directly onto her injury, flushing out any remaining debris or bacteria that was present. Ivy bit the fabric of her jacket for the pain, holding back her cries at the agonizing pain. It burned like a mother.

But it was over in no time, and soon, Bellamy was wrapping it up with a fresh new bandage. He offered his hands to help her down, but her focus was too busy on doing so herself. She couldn't accept his help if they were going on the strenuous hike that they were; she needed to do things herself. "You're sure you're okay?" Bellamy asked her warily, watching as she wobbled with her first steps on her own.

Turning her head up to look at him, Ivy nodded. "Yeah, I'm good." She finally got into a groove where she was able to walk without looking like she was about to fall on her face. She needed to put up a strong front. Now was not the time to show weakness.