Weaknesses-Bellamy Blake

chapter one

You staggered into camp, dirty, dehydrated, and exhausted. Since you were separated from the group three days ago at the torching of the grounders, all you'd had to eat was bittersweet pine needles. You were pretty sure you were bleeding from at least three places. And, of course, the grounder arrow sticking out of your side probably wasn't helping. Luckily, it didn't appear to be poisoned, or you would have died days ago.

Honestly, the only thing keeping you going at this point was the thought of your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake. You pushed your hair out of your eyes and squinted against the sun. You could barely make out the words "Camp Jaha" before a bullet whizzed past your head, just grazing your ear.  Son of a bitch. They were shooting... at you? Before you had time to think, a torrent of bullets flew over your head, far too close for comfort. You'd be damned if you'd come this far to be shot by your own people.

"Stop! Stop! It's Y/N, I'm not a grounder!" You cried as you waved your hands over your head, before hunching over in pain.

The gates to the camp creaked open, and John Murphy sauntered out, gun in hand. Two guards filled in behind him. Murphy looked over your mud crusted clothes and matted hair with his signature smirk.

"Well, you look like shit."

"Asshole." Y/N responded, before pulling said asshole into a hug. You cringed suddenly as your arrow wound stang and let out an accidental cry of pain. Murphy released a long whistle as he eyed the injury.

"Go get Clarke. Now." He commanded, turning to the guard on his left. As the guard ran off towards the med bay, Murphy slung an arm around you and helped you walk through the gates.

"Damn it, Y/N, we thought you were dead. Blake's been killing himself trying to find you." Murphy very helpfully informed you. You weren't listening, but rather frantically scanning the hub of people, hoping to see your friends from the ship. Well, one boy in particular.

"Y/N!" Clarke called as she ran towards you, blonde hair streaming behind her. You grabbed your best friend into a bone crushing hug, ignoring the pain in your side. You couldn't bear to be the one to let go first.

"Bell?" You whispered in her ear. How much hope can one word carry?

"He's here, Y/N. He's safe." You let out a sigh of relief.

"Murphy? Go find Bellamy." Clarke commanded.

"On it." Murphy jogged off.

"As for you, I'm amazed you're still standing." Clarke knelt down and began examining the arrowhead lodged in your side.

"Hey, it takes more than an arrow to take me out." You joked. The tension in your voice was obvious. You clenched your teeth as Clarke poured antiseptic on the injured area.

"Motherfucker." You swore as she continued to prod around the wound. You clenched your jaw even tighter. You would not pass out. Not before you saw Bell-

"Ahh!" You cried out as another wave of pain radiated from your side.

"Sorry, Y/N. You know I have to." Clarke responded.

"That doesn't make it hurt less." You retorted. Anxiously, you tapped your fingers against your leg.

"We need to get you to med bay, Y/N. I need to get this out of you." Panic surged in your veins.

"No. Not until I see Bell. Please, you don't understand, I need to know he's ali-"

"Y/N!" You were cut off by the sound of your favorite voice. You turned around and saw Bellamy running towards you, pushing through the crowd. A smile broke out across your face and you ran-well, hobbled would be more accurate-to him. He caught you as you giggled, half delirious with relief and joy. You had missed his strong arms around you. His embrace was the only place that that made you feel truly safe. You nestled your head in his shoulder and felt his hands wrap around you.

"I thought I lost you." His whisper was barely audible. If you didn't know better, you would say there were tears in his eyes.

"You can't get rid of me that easily." You murmured back as your eyes slid shut. Bellamy's gasp was the last thing you heard before the world went dark.