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SEPT 25, 2149 DAY THIRTEEN ON THE GROUND
THE SUPPOSED PATHWAY THREAD THROUGH THE ENDLESS TREES, BELLAMY VALOROUSLY leading the wayas he kept his hell-bent eyes trained onto the grounder they were stealthily stalking and his arms hooked securely under Dakota's knees; carrying her on his back through the verdant forest.
The second she had taken one tiny step in the direction of their target after they had left the tent's pitiful shelter, her wobbling legs had jarred her to the side; too dizzy to travel in a straight line anymore. Without any guff at his command- and never being one to turn down a piggy-back ride- she had bit back a pained groan as she hoisted herself onto him; plopping her chin down onto his shoulder in exhaustion as his grip fastened determinedly to her. Twenty minutes later her limp head still lolled on his shoulder, tipped infirmly on its side and moving slightly along with the bounce of his stride as she tried to hold onto him through her utter lack of strength; the bleeding from her wound having thankfully ceased.
Every few minutes she would lose consciousness and her arms would begin to unintentionally slip from around his chest, Bellamy always keeping her responsive by tapping her calf or boosting her up further onto his back. The pressure he felt was encumbering on his chest like a dead weight. He was harassed by his own mind incessantly about how he somehow needed to manage rescuing his sister and getting Dakota to Clarke soon. He had tried vehemently to get the four other members of the beaten down and battered search party to retreat back to camp while he stayed the course, but the Thompson girl had refused to leave him alone in such a perilous scene and Jasper had assured him he wouldn't be back at the drop ship until Octavia was with him.
Like clockwork, Dakota's hands- one stained ruby red- unclasped from in-front of his chest and her body began to slowly slide down his back; Bellamy preforming his usual practices to remind her to hold on. This time however, patting her leg and giving her a gentle bump up didn't re-invigorate her at all; his standard method not acting as a needed stimulus. He furrowed his brows in alarm.
"Dakota?"
"Hmm?" she hummed groggily, wrapping her arms back around him without ever opening her eyes; only the sound of his voice working this time. Bellamy now wondered if talking was exclusively how to keep her awake.
"What are you thinking about?"
Dakota mused over his question in silence for a lengthy interval of time. The truthful answer would've been that between her insensible moments, when her mind was even cogent enough, she was thinking about Roma, Diggs, and John. How a mere 20 minutes ago the mangled bodies still lying somewhere far behind them in the woods had held souls. They'd been capable of feeling love and grief and shock and joy, the things that made them human. Capable of laughing and playing and making mistakes and sometimes being mischievous. Now they were capable of nothing; now they were nothing.
