Romeo and Juliet

Chapter Fifty-Five

Her eyes opened, a wave of exhaustion instantly flowing over her as light met her eyes. The sounds of coughing and the smell of infection flowed through her senses, making her feel even worse. "Oh, thank God, Clarke?" Octavia's voice met her ears, ringing slightly. Clarke coughed in her sleeve, seeing the presence of the brunette appearing her. "You look a bit better."

"I feel better. My fever's lowering." Clarke whispered dryly, gratefully accepting the cup of water Octavia handed her. She sipped for a few seconds, before handing it back to Octavia. "Okay, now them." Clarke breathed, gesturing towards the other sick teenagers, some of them having piles of blood beside them. "Is... is Bellamy?..."

"No, Bellamy's not sick. We quarantined him to his tent after you fell." Octavia explained, continuing the talk as she gave water to the other kids, checking their fevers. Clarke had taught Octavia most of what she knew, afraid who would do her job if something were to happen to her. Bellamy thought it wasn't necessary, but he knew better than to argue.

"How... how many are left?" Clarke asked, looking at the abundance of sick people. It had to be more than twenty. If the grounders attack, we have no chance whatsoever... that's what they want. Clarke realized, shutting her eyes in anger. The grounders attacked them for no reason... what had they done? They were the cause of Charlotte's death and probably Wells' for all they knew.

"Around thirty people are sick, so we have half left. Miller's trying to get everyone to calm down. We're just spacing apart for now and having everyone at their posts in case of an attack." Clarke sighed. This was their plan all along.

"They're going to attack, Octavia. Bellamy needs to get on his post, he's one of the best shots." Being a member of the guard, Bellamy was one of if not the best shots in the group. They needed him at the posts. "Just... tell him I said I'm up and to get his ass on his post."

Octavia smiled slightly, nodding, and leaving the dropship temporarily. Suddenly, Clarke's eyes landed on Murphy, watching her carefully.

Clarke winced as he reached for her, but realized he was only wiping her head with a cold rag. It felt blissful. The fear that lived in her subsided a small bit, but it was still extremely present. "Don't worry, I... I'm done with that. Listen, Clarke... there's no excuse for what I did. I realize I was an ass, and I don't expect you to forgive me, but please... you've gotta let me stay, I'll be skinned out there."

Clarke glared up at him, realizing he was right. Can I take another death on my hands? She asked herself, remember all the murder she'd already had to take part in. Murphy did look sorry, though, but Clarke couldn't tell if he was sorry for being caught or genuinely sorry for his actions. "I'm not forgiving you, Murphy. And you know Bellamy's gonna kick your ass for what you did to... to Charlotte, and to me."

"Please, Clarke, I'm sorry. I promise, I'll do my tasks, I'll do everything, just please let me stay. Hell, you can even let me stay as your prisoner, just let me stay, please."

"Bellamy's going to have my ass for this, but... look, if you do a single fucking thing, you're out." Clarke sighed, pushing Murphy off of her angrily. Of course, she was going to say yes to his pleads, she was a doctor. It was her job to help people.

"Thank you, thank you, Clarke. I promise, you're not going to see anything from me, I'll do everything." Murphy almost smiled, his cheeks warm. He was going to survive... if Bellamy didn't kill him first.

"Just... go make sure they aren't dead, Murphy." Clarke groaned, beginning to get up, only to feel Murphy gently place his hands on her arms, keeping her in the hammock.

"You shouldn't be getting up so soon, Clarke."

"Those people are dying. Do you know how to deal with seizures or if someone's choking on their blood, Murphy?" She challenged him, feeling her hands release from her body a moment after. He sighed, shaking his head.

"Fine, it's your funeral."