Fearless (Bellamy Blake - Book 1)

Chapter 80

I grunt when I hit the ground below me, my hands and knees taking the brunt of the fall.

"Chris," Bellamy rushes to crouch beside me, but is hesitant to touch me which I'm actually glad of as I shake my head at him.

"I'm fine, don't touch me," I release a raspy cough before continuing, "I don't want you to get sick."

"We gotta get you inside, Clarke can help you." I hear what seems to be desperation in Bellamy's voice, as well as in his eyes when I look at him. It's the only thing that makes me nod, and push myself to stand up.

Bellamy keeps his hands out, not touching me but clearly having decided that if I do fall again, he'll catch me, even if it means putting himself at risk of getting infected.

It's a feeling I try not to dwell on, along with the fact that Bellamy has been calling me Chris a lot more lately.

It's strange, and I can't figure out why, but Bellamy using that name is the only time I don't feel hatred towards it. When Finn and Raven use it, I'm instantly reminded of a time where I was a different person, but with Bellamy, it's like he knows what I've done and who I am, but still accepts that I've tried to change, even if it hasn't worked out.

The journey to the drop ship seems a lot longer than it usually does, and other delinquents stop and stare at me as I stumble past them.

I stop short when I enter the drop ship, looking around at the kids sprawled about the floor, dried blood on their faces just like me.

"Hey," Clarke to rush over to me, a cloth covering her mouth. "How're you feeling?" Her eyes dart around my face as she asks, noting where the blood has come from.

"I've definitely felt worse," I admit, glancing at Bellamy as he brings a cloth to his face.

Clarke nods solemnly, "your symptoms are the same as mine, which means you've got to stay on this level."

I look around to the back and see people lying on the floor, coughing and crying at the thought of dying from this.

A sudden shiver runs down my body, and I wrap my arms around myself as I nod at Clarke, but don't move.

"Clarke..." I tear my gaze away from the other sock delinquents and up to her, where her concerned blue eyes meet mine. I swallow thickly as I open my mouth to ask the question brewing in my mind, but the words can't seem to come out.

Clarke, seeming to know what it is I want to say, shakes her head at me as an answer.

"What is it?" Bellamy asks, his eyes darting between Clarke and I.

"I...I just-I need to sit down." I mumble. I walk away from the two of them, leaning my back against the cool metal at the side and sliding down to the floor.

"Hey," Clarke crouches down in front of me with a heavy sigh.

"How many have we lost?" I ask, looking around to count how many are infected. Too many.

"Only a couple," she tells me, her voice low. "But there'll be a lot more unless we get a cure."

I try to scoff, the noise sounding muffled from my swollen throat, "yeah, 'cause the Grounders are just gonna hand over the cure to the disease they gave us."

"Well," Clarke inclines her head, "maybe not Grounders," she emphasises the plural and gives me a look that makes me narrow my eyes.

"Clarke, what did you do?"

"I may have sent Octavia to go and see Lincoln, if there's a cure, he'll give it to her."

"Lincoln?"

"He's the Grounder—"

"The Grounder that kidnapped Octavia, gave me concussion, stabbed Finn which resulted in him being poisoned and almost dying and was then tortured by us for it. You're really trying to tell me—" I cut myself off with a cough and scrunch up my face in pain before continuing. "You're telling me that you trust him to give us a cure for this? When it's his people that are the cause?"

"I know it seems like a long shot," Clarke tells me, "but Lincoln is the one who tried to set up the meeting for peace, and he cares about Octavia."

"Yeah well, whatever you do, don't tell Bellamy about that last part."

"Bellamy doesn't know at all."

I frown at her before sighing and letting my head tilt back against the wall. "Great."