WONDERING ➭ THE 100

016

ੈ♡₊˚•. ˖⋆ ━━━━━⠀WONDERING !
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ⋯ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ˓ 𑁍ࠜೄ
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 SIXTEEN ・*:·. ⇌ ஜ .·:*

Millie knelt down, furrowing her eyebrows and twisting the boys hands around in her own. They were shaking spastically and there was so much blood covering them, Millie couldn't see his skin. The cuts on his face, neck and limbs were awfully too familiar. His finger nails were torn off, the solidness no longer present but instead just pools of black and red blood. He was cowering in a corner, eyeing Millie warily. The blonde once looked the same, almost identical to John.

"You're lucky." She told him simply, dropping his hand.

She stood up, grabbing a damp rag from one of the bowls. "You and I have very different versions of lucky." He pushed out painfully, letting his hair fall in front of his face. Millie chuckled, shaking her head. She ran the rag out, scrunching her nose as blood clouded the water.

"You have no idea what they're capable of. It could've been much worse."

She carried the towel over to him, gently rubbing against his face. One of her hands was holding his chin, and her tongue was poking slightly out of the corner of her mouth from concentration. Johns eyes traveled over her face. For a moment Millie thought he was connecting her to the people who held him captive and tortured him, but there was no hint of anger on his face. "You don't have to pretend to care just because we're both on the wrong side of things." He commented weakly, studying the girls face. It was almost as if John had never seen her before. She sighed, ringing the blood out once more.

"I don't care. I have no idea who you are." She told him truthfully, earning a soft chuckle. "But I do know how it feels like to be strung up by them. It's not fun. I was alone when it happened to me, no one else should be." She said softly, dabbing at his hands gently. She ripped a piece of his shirt off at the end, wrapping it around his fingers. "It helps them grow back faster." She informed, wiggling her fingers in front of his face for emphasis. From having them ripped off twice now, she'd know.

"Hey," He called out once she stood up, leaving him alone against the wall. "Thank you." His eyelids were drooping, and she could tell he was close to drifting off. Millie didn't reply, only nodded at him once and waited for his eyes to flutter shut.

She closed her eyes softly, sleep pulling at her body. She sat down in one of the hammocks, but her body jolted up as John began violently coughing. She glanced over at him, eyes widening as contents of thick blood spewed from his mouth. She wasted no time grabbing a bucket, and slid on her knees towards him. She grabbed a rag, holding it in her hand for when he was finished. Clarke copied Millies actions, leaning down as John continued to cough up his guts. Millie wasn't sure when Clarke had arrived, but per usual, the leader was pushing her way into the trouble.

"Murphy, hey, look at me." She commanded.

"I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the grounders." She commanded. Millie leaned back on her feet, wracking her brain for why he was looking so awful. "I don't know. I woke up and they forgot to lock my cage. There was no one there, so I took off." He sniffed. Millie stood up instantly, like a solider, gaining Clarke's attention.

"Millie, do you have any idea what this is?" Clarke inquired eagerly, taking a step closer. The blonde had a few red streaks down her own face, she was paling but didn't look nearly as bad as John did. She ignored the nagging in her head, and nodded slowly.