Bellarke Oneshots and Prompts

6. Emergency

Based on the prompt:
Imagine person A having to undergo emergency surgery in a scenario where there will not be an anesthetic. Person B has to hold them down. Bonus: Person C is the surgeon.

I modified this a bit--it's not quite surgery, but it's the closest they would have in this situation :)

"Get out of the way," Murphy snarled, pushing his way through the crowd of people mulling around the camp. "Move! Someone get Dr. Griffin!"

At the sound of her mother's name, Clarke exited her tent quickly, abandoning her job of organizing the food. She jogged toward the entrance to the camp, eyes immediately going to the two boys making their way through the people, who were automatically dividing themselves to make a path.

"Bellamy," she breathed, beginning to run as she shoved people out of her way.

"What the hell happened out there?" she asked of Murphy and Jasper, who had Bellamy's arms around their shoulders and were dragging him between them. They turned to face Clarke, and what she saw made her nauseous.

"We were attacked. We don't know who. Grounders, probably," Murphy explained, but Clarke was barely paying attention. Her co-leader, her friend, was hanging limply between the two boys, a long spear sticking out of his side.

"Clarke! What do we do?" Jasper's irritated and panicked voice brought her out of her shock. He had obviously been trying to get her attention for several seconds.

"Oh god...get him to my mom. Come on!" Regaining her composure, Clarke set off at a light jog, calling her mother's name. She risked a glance back at Bellamy, who was still semi-conscious, trying weakly to lift his head.

Abby Griffin met them in the middle of two tents, and she handed a stack of papers to Kane, motioning for Murphy and Jasper to follow her. Kane stared at Bellamy's wound, looking shocked as they left.

"Come on. Get him in here, hurry," Abby instructed them, pushing open tent flaps and beckoning them to a table. "Swing him up here. Gently. Try not to move the spear." Murphy and Jasper complied, Clarke lifting Bellamy's legs so that he could rest on the table. He groaned in pain, eyes squeezing shut, and Clarke bit her lip.

"Good. Jasper, go get the first person you come across. Run," instructed Abby, then turned to Murphy. "There's a few baskets over there. Grab gauze, bandages, anything. Try to find some sort of anesthetic. Clarke, keep him as calm as you can while I look at the wound." Murphy and Jasper were already gone, and Clarke moved to Bellamy's side, where she took his hand and began to stroke his hair.

"Bellamy? Look at me, Bellamy. It's me. We're going to patch you up, okay? Do you know what happened?" she asked, pushing his sweaty curls back from his forehead. His jaw was clenched, but he looked at Clarke for a moment before his eyes flickered shut and then opened again.

"Grounders," Bellamy forced out, then yelped as Abby probed around the spear. "I...I don't know." His eyes closed again, and Clarke gently shook his shoulder.

"Stay with me, Bellamy. Come on. Look at me." His deep brown eyes, glassy with unshed tears of pain, found hers, and locked into focus.

"Here, Mrs. Griffin. This is all I could find." Murphy's voice came to the side of Clarke, and she glanced over to see him set a pile of medical supplies down as Jasper returned, Kane in tow.

"Okay. Murphy, where's the anesthetic?"

"There wasn't any."

"There had to be," Abby responded, sounding irritated and slightly worried.

"There wasn't. There wasn't anything like that." Abby swore under her breath, and Clarke looked down as Bellamy whimpered quietly in fear.

"Shh, it's okay Bellamy. We'll find something," she whispered soothingly, continuing to stroke his hair.