Warrior ‣ Bellamy Blake

Three

Aella was trying to sleep, but something felt off. Earlier, Octavia told her about her "thing" with Atom and how she hadn't seen him. she went on about how she was worried that he lost interest or Bellamy scared him off. She knew it was the latter.

"Having trouble sleeping, Angel?" Murphy asked. The two shared a tent and didn't mind it. They even stopped minding the rumors that went around that they were sleeping together which both of them found hilarious.

"Is it obvious?" she asked.

"I know you, so yes."

She groaned and tried to snuggle down into her makeshift blanket. "I wanna fucking sleep, but I can't fucking sleep, so I'll be fucking bitter about it now and then be a total fucking bitch in the morning."

"That's the normal routine."

"I'd try to work on the communication panels, but I'd fall off the roof."

He chuckled and said, "If you have any alcohol, you better not be holding out on me."

"I'm tired, John!"

"Just try to go to sleep and-"

"That's what I've been trying to do for the past few hours, stupid."

"You're meaner when you're tired. Well, if you don't fall asleep in an hour, I can always knock you over the head with a rock."

"I'm starting to see that as the only possible solution."

"I'm not actually going to do that, you know. Maybe just go on a little walk."

"What if I die?"

He knew she was too tired to think straight and it was utterly amusing. "You're too stubborn to die."

"Murderers don't know that, Mr. Murphy!"

"You sound drunk, Angel."

"I'm going on that walk so you stop insulting me."

"What? Hey, you're being meaner to me!"

"Shut up, stupid," she said, crawling out of the tent and taking a small stroll around camp. Before she got far, she saw a little girl no older than 12 with her arms wrapped around her knees, crying her poor little eyes out.

The girl was blonde with one of those tortured looks in her big eyes. 

"Hey," Aella said, making herself known. "Hi."

"Hey," the girl said, her voice quivering slightly.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine." To sell it, she tried out a smile, but it was sad to see.

"That's a load of bullshit," she said blatantly. "Honey, I've used that line more times than you have."

"I'm telling the truth; I'm perfectly okay. Clarke helped me."

She sat down next to the girl and said, "Clarke is good at fixing wounds, not life problems. Well, she's probably better at that than I am, but I can give it a shot."

"I-I don't need your pity."

"Hey, I don't pity you. What was it? Was someone being mean?" She connected the dots. "Nightmares, right?"

The girl nodded. "I have them every night."

"I relate."

"You have nightmares?"

"Every night."

"Do...do they get any better?"

"Actually, they do."