THE 100 IMAGINES

[BB] Two.

     Leaving the camp unseen wasn't an easy task. Despite the fact that the sun had settled and the only light was coming from the flickering flames of the fires. There were Grounders surrounding the entire wall—or at least the way to get in through the wall anyway. Clarke had told you to stay safe just before you managed to escape—she didn't blame you for not wanting to fight. When you first landed on earth you were seen as a peacekeeper, more so than Finn was. You never went out hunting or joined in fights, let alone picked up a weapon. Everyone knew it made you uncomfortable, especially after they found out about your life on the Ark. No one judged. They respected you too much to do that.

     Instead, you spent most of your days in the dropship, matching people up after they got back from their own fights and hunting trips. Clarke was forever grateful that you took over long and busy nights for her to get some sleep, and you never once made a point to say that she owed you—because, of course, she didn't. You weren't training to be a doctor, like Clarke, you already were a doctor, so it made sense for you to take care of Clarke as well.

     The nerves had already started getting to you, in fact, it made you sick to your stomach. Just thinking about the possibility of seeing the delinquents dying at the hands of the Grounders made the acidic taste crawl up your throat, burning and leaving the horrid aftertaste to linger for hours on end. They were your family. Your new family at least, and you couldn't stand the thought of watching them die. Some would say that you took the cowards way out, but the others understood, they didn't blame you. But you always felt like they should.

     The sounds of screaming and bullets being shot from the guns sent a ripple of nausea up your spine. It was ironic, in a way, you were all sent to earth to die, and that was exactly what was happening, only not from the radiation, but by the other survivors who never left.

     The twigs snapping underneath your feet went unheard by the Grounders as you managed to get far enough from the camp. Tears already began to roll down your face as you realised how badly you were letting the delinquents down. You were about to continue when you spotted Octavia, Lincoln, and Bellamy behind the trees. You started to make your way over to them. Lincoln seemed to have just arrived as Octavia called out his name and he pulled her into a hug, both breathing deeply.

     "You did this?" Bellamy asked, looking over to the fight behind them.

     "With Finn." Lincoln looked down to Octavia's leg as she hissed in pain. "It's deep." Something was sticking out of her leg. Lincoln looked up behind Bellamy then behind himself before looking to Octavia. "I can help you, but you have to come with me now."

     "Go." Bellamy nodded faintly. Octavia looked at him quickly. "Let him help you."

     "No way. I have to see this through," she told him.

     Bellamy shook his head. "You can't walk and I can't get you back to the dropship."

     "He's right. This fight is over for you," Lincoln continued as she leaned against the tree.

     "O, O, listen to me. I told you my life ended the day you were born. The truth is...it didn't start until then. Go with him. I need you to live. Besides...I got this." Octavia shook her head, tears rolled down her face as she pushed forward, pulling Bellamy into a hug.

     "I love you, big brother."

     "May we meet again."

     "May we meet again." Lincoln helped Octavia up, pulling her into his arms as he lifted her up from the ground.

     "Keep her safe."

     You managed to get to them without being seen, Bellamy's automatic response to hearing someone approach was to pull out his gun. With your hands quickly raised up you froze, staring at him. Bellamy lowered the gun, looking behind you before taking your hand to pull you over behind the tree.

     "What are you doing here?"

     "I couldn't—"

     "I know," he interrupted with a nod.

     "Is she okay?" Lincoln asked quietly, glancing towards where the fighting was taking place.

     "I'm fine," you told him, looking at him strangely.

     "You smell of vomit."

     You opened your mouth. "I'm not one for violence." With a shrug, you glanced over to Bellamy.

     "That's not why you got sick." He shook his head.

     Bellamy looked at you, then to Lincoln. "Another virus?" He shook his head again.

     "Not one that others can catch."

     "What do you mean?" You asked, holding onto Bellamy's hand tightly.

     "You don't know?" Lincoln glared at you, his eyes drifting to your stomach. "I guess you will in nine months."

     "What?" Bellamy stood up straighter.

     "I'm—"

     "Pregnant," Bellamy finished your sentence. "You have to go with them," he told you as he cupped your face, turning you to face him. "Please."

     "What about you? You have to come with us."

     "They're my people, I can't leave them."

     You knew what he meant. Your hands went to your stomach, rubbing slightly. "You can't leave us either."

     "I know, I'm sorry." Bellamy pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes tightly.

     "I love you," you whispered, feeling his lips against your forehead.

     "I love you too, but I need you to go with Lincoln and Octavia. You can help her and he can keep you both safe."

     "You mean three."

     He sucked in a deep breath. "Yeah, he can protect you three. Just, please. Go."

     "Then promise me one thing."

     "What?"

     "Survive."