Bellarke One Shots Book 2

66)I have wounds only you can mend

"Clarke?"

Clarke looked up from reapplying a second bandage to one of the injured.

Raven entered the med tent, carrying more supplies.

"Hey, thanks. We were running out of that seaweed."

She patted the patient and stood up from her spot on the floor.

Raven handed off half the supplies and worked with Clarke to store them somewhere safe.

The tent flap rustled open with a gust of wind.

"Clarke! Clarke!"

She swiveled around to see Monroe, hands bloodied, frantic.

"We need space. Clear some-"

"Monroe! Calm down, what is it? Are you okay?"

"It's not me. It's-"

"Stop, ugh. Let go of me, I can walk fine on my own. I'm fine!"

Finn held the tent flap open as Bellamy stumbled through, Murphy close behind.

Bellamy wobbled, blood covered his hands. There was a gash upon his face, slowly oozing blood. He was holding his upper arm, blood faintly seeping through his jacket.

"Sit him down. What happened?"

Finn pushed Bellamy down onto a makeshift bed. Bellamy glared, ready for a quick comeback but instead shifted his gaze to Clarke.

"Why hello, Princess."

"Bellamy, what happened?"

Raven passed Clarke a rag doused in moonshine and immediately went to work on Bellamy's wound.

Bellamy hissed as she rubbed away the blood on his face. His hand found her waist, something to hold onto. Even if Bellamy was only touching her to ease his pain, his touch still tingled on her skin.

"It'll heal. It's not too deep. Now what happened?"

As Monroe and Finn retold what happened, Clarke rinsed the rag and moved onto Bellamy's arm.

"-just one grounder! Only one! And he hurt Bellamy, of all people."

Monroe was terrified; it had only taken one grounder to hurt Bellamy. Everyone underestimated how much damage they could do.

"He's dead though, thanks to Murphy."

Murphy held up his hands, he didn't seem to want the gratitude of saving Bellamy's life.

Clarke ripped Bellamy's sleeve to get a better look at the wound along his bicep. The muscles there were strained, blood collecting on the surface of the wound. It looked pretty deep.

"I'm gonna need a fresh rag, a needle and thread so I can stitch this wound up. It looks deep."

Bellamy's hand hadn't left her waist, and at the mention of stitching the gash up, his fingers tightened. Even if Bellamy didn't let it show on his face, he was scared and she knew it.

"This is gonna hurt Bell."

He nodded, and she got to work. He hissed once again, at the strong moonshine cleansing the wound.

"Raven can you get me one of those seaweed bandages ready? The blade that cut Bellamy could have been poisoned."

Raven left to do her job and Clarke continued, onto the stitching.

She started the stitch, concise on placement and tried to ignore the grip of Bellamy's hand on her waist. He was clearly in pain. Clarke could practically feel ever indent of Bellamy's fingerprints but she didn't stop him.