Radioactive ||The 100||✓

10. Fighting for Everything

Quote/lyric: People fall in love in mysterious ways. Maybe it's all part of a plan~Ed Sheeran~Thinking Out Loud

Dakota stumbled through the walls of camp when a voice yelled out her name. Bellamy was running towards her, a panicked look on his face. She threw her arms around him and he buried his head in her neck. His strong arms held her close, picking her up a few inches off the ground.

"I was so worried," Bellamy breathed in her ear. "What happened to you?"

"T-the gro-grounders got me. They c-cut me up," Dakota whispered, clinging to Bellamy tighter.

"Clarke!" Bellamy yelled, not letting go of Dakota. "Help!"

"I-I got b-blood all over y-you," whispered Dakota into Bellamy's neck. Then she passed out in Bellamy's arms.

Dakota was having strange, terrifying dreams. She was laying in the middle of camp, Murphy, his friends, and Bellamy walking in circles around her. "How pathetic," Murphy spat at her as she bled from a hundred different cuts.

"Maybe," said Bellamy cruelly. "She'll die and we won't have to deal with her."

"Or maybe," offered Murphy. "I can finish her right now." And then his face morphed into Indra's and he brought his knife down into her stomach.

Then it changed. This time it was Bellamy who was tied up to the tree, being carved into by Indra.

"Help!" Bellamy screamed. "Dakota, help!"

But Dakota couldn't move. Bellamy let out a horrific scream as Indra cut into his chest. Dakota lurched forward but it was no use. She was frozen in place. She tried desperately to reach Bellamy but she couldn't. All she could do was sob as she watched Indra carve him up like an animal.

Dakota's eyes snapped open. She was laying on the floor of the drop ship, her head in Bellamy's lap, who was fiddling nervously with her hair. Her entire body felt like it was on fire. The stab wounds in her legs throbbed with every beat of her heart and the ragged flesh of her arms stung so bad it brought tears to her eyes.

"Bel," she breathed out and his eyes flicked to her, relief flooding his face.

"Oh thank god. I thought you- I was so- Are you okay- How do you feel?" Bellamy fidgeted with his hands, unsure of what to do. He reached out to hug her but pulled back, afraid of hurting her.

Dakota chuckled at his inability to form a complete sentence. Never, not once, in all the time she had known Bellamy had he been at a loss for words. But here he was, so relieved Dakota was okay he couldn't put together a coherent thought.

"I feel about as good as I look," she said. Her croaky voice made Bellamy laugh.

"How long have I been out?" She asked.

"A day or two," said Bellamy, going back to playing with her hair. "Dakota," he said cautiously. "What happened out there?"

Dakota paused as she tried to remember. Her memories were blurred. "I killed two grounders. They came after me and I killed them. Then the others took me." Dakota's voice shook as she spoke. "She said I had to die a death as painful as three. For the three grounders I killed."

"How did you get out?"

"I-I fought...I think. I don't want to talk about it." She turned her head, trying to hide her tears from Bellamy. He stroked her cheek that wasn't bandaged.

"I'm scared, Bel," Dakota whispered.

Bellamy laced his fingers with hers. "I know," he whispered. "Me too."

They sat like that in silence for a while until Clarke came to change her bandages. "Can you sit up?" She asked. Dakota nodded and sat, crossing her legs.

Clarke peeled away the bandages on her forearms first and Dakota winced. The deep cuts were beginning to scab over which Clarke said was good. She put on fresh bandages and moved to her legs. The stab wounds were deep and the skin around one was red and swollen. Clarke cleaned them. Bellamy stayed sitting in the corner as Clarke worked on Dakota and she turned beat red when Clarke told her to take her shirt off.

"Why?" She asked, the embarrassment clear on her face.

"So I can get to the cuts on your stomach," said Clarke. Dakota saw a ghost of a smirk pass Clarke's face as she looked from Dakota to Bellamy and back.

Dakota peeled off her shirt and Clarke got to work on her stomach. The cuts were jagged and as the blood dried it stuck to the bandages. Dakota cried in pain when Clarke ripped off the bandages. Bellamy jumped up at Dakota's scream and came over. Her cheeks turned bright red as she could feel Bellamy's eyes on her.

Clarke moved to her collar bone and examined it. "These are really deep," she said. "These will be bad scars." She covered them up and handed Dakota her shirt. "I'm not going to lie. You're in bad shape. You need a lot of rest. Go back to you're tent."

Dakota could feel the heat of Bellamy's hand in her back as he steered her out of the drop ship. "Where are we going?" Dakota asked when she felt him steer her away from her tent.

"You can stay in my tent," said Bellamy. "There's more room."

"Bel, I-" Dakota started to protest but Bellamy wasn't listening. He pulled open the flap of his tent and Dakota entered. It was huge. Dakota laid down on his large bed and he sat next to her. She felt extremely sleepy.

"You need rest," said Bellamy quietly. His voice was calming. Dakota reached out groggily for his hand.

"I'm fine," she said. Her voice was slurred from tiredness. "I'm tough."

Bellamy chuckled. "I never said you weren't."

Dakota gripped his hand and closed her eyes. "I'm a fighter."

"Yes you are," said Bellamy. "Now go to sleep, fighter."