Fireheart | Raven Reyes [O.H.]

19 | burning bridges

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chapter nineteen!
BURNING BRIDGES
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IT'S RAVEN WHO attempts to help Ares before the virus can get into his system. Since they have no idea if the virus is spread through the skin's pores or through inhalation, she decides to sterilize his neck. She has him pull off his coat and hoodie until he's left in only his t-shirt, then dumps alcohol on the back of his neck and into the bits of blood that had gotten stuck in his curls.

"Your hair is getting too long," she says as he shivers from the cool temperature of the liquid, goosebumps rising on his skin. The sharp tang of alcohol fills the tent. "I can help you cut it."

"If it ends up looking anything like Collins' hair, no thanks," he teases, still hunched over so she can reach his neck. "You almost done?"

"Yeah," she answers. "Since we got it right away, that should hopefully help. I saw Clarke do that to Finn and he isn't showing any symptoms." She twists the lid back onto the thermos and hands him a rag to wipe his skin. As he does and stands up straight, he notices a frown pulling down her lips. "So someone just purposely coughed on you?"

"I'm not exactly anyone's camper of the year," Ares reminds her.

"Still. That's low. Especially since you're easily our best shot— you're our best defense against the Grounders if they do attack tomorrow."

He raises his scarred eyebrow with a small grin. "Is that a compliment?"

"Don't make me take it back."

Ares had put Myles on guard duty so he could help Raven craft bullets. Since they're preparing for an attack, they need all the ammunition they can get if they hope to win. Or to even hold the Grounders off for long.

He notices her staring at something and follows her gaze. Ares has rarely worn nothing but this shirt in front of her, so she has never seen the plethora of scars lacerating his bare arms. They're raised bumps of white skin that interrupt his natural tan — the prolonged exposure to the sun is steadily making it darken — and they're ugly. Some are jagged. Some curved. Ares remembers how he'd gotten every single one of them.

"My eyes are up here," he jokes. Raven quickly averts her gaze from his arms and busies herself with organizing the table inside the cramped tent, her cheeks slightly rosy. He smirks as he tugs his hoodie back on and shrugs his jacket over his shoulders just as Blake arrives.

"Got you some helpers," he announces, allowing Monty, Jasper, and Harper to enter the tent. He warily eyes Ares. "You got him sterilized?"

"As if the smell of alcohol wasn't enough to tell us that," Monty replies, nose scrunched at the sharp scent. "It's like he bathed in it."