XXXVIII. Bros before hoes. Ha!

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What is this? A quick-ass update and it's not a filler?

Yes! I put my TV shows on hold pretty much all day just to give you guys this chapter. My withdrawal symptoms are sky high. But that's how much I love you.

Bold=Swedish.

T H I R T Y  E I G H T | BROS BEFORE HOES. HA!

What they had built was secure, it held onto the hope they all desperately needed. Everything was finally looking up for the Hundred, luck seemed to be on their side. While bullets and automatic weapons were scarce, Carter and Raven had managed to double up the ammo as well as create a few explosives to surround the camp. Clarke had gathered enough medical supplies to deal with minor to moderate injuries as well as accustomed herself to working under pressure. The people on the wall had become more vigilant and aware, if there was even a slight rustle in the woods; they saw it. Only, every little movement outside the wall, made the people on watch a little trigger-happy. A routine had come into place and a head count was done at night to make sure everyone was safe and present. They were getting enough food-- especially meat-- to last them for weeks, making sure no one needed to leave the camp unless they were ordered to.

Only, one cocky asshole ruined it all.

As Carter watched the meat-house wither away into nothing but charred flakes of flesh and bone she couldn't help but notice the security they had mustered up around them, had crumbled. People now had to leave camp in order to restore food, and every day that passed meant a closer day to when the Grounder's finally attacked. It set them on edge. What if the hunters were attacked? What if they were taken hostage and tortured like Murphy was? Questions similar buzzed around the crowd but no one had answer. Not only did their food burn in that fire, but apparently their hope did too.

Murphy had quite animatedly pointed out who was behind the fire. A boy Carter had no business with but recognized his face. They were told how the boy was warned about putting too much wood on the fire, yet he did it anyway. It was fair to say, at lest two thirds of the camp wanted to punch the guy's face in.

Murphy actually did punch him in the face, but Bellamy managed to break it up before any true damage could be caused. And for the first time ever, Carter found herself rooting for Murphy. The dude that tried to stab her.

It was quickly concluded that any able body that could be spared needed to go out and hunt. Carter saw it as the perfect opportunity to finally leave the camp and not be dragged back, so of course she volunteered herself. She tested the weight of the spear in her hands and shuddered as she remembered the one that pierced through her foot, the limb tingled at the memory too.

"Are you kidding me? There's no way you should be going." Carter sighed and turned to face Bellamy, not at all surprised that he would object to the idea of her leaving camp.

"And why not?" She asked, somewhat bored. They had the exact same conversation on so many occasions, she wondered why he still bothered. She always got her own way in the end.

"Your foot for starters. You might think it's back to normal but it's still healing. It hurt you when we went on that trek to the depot, imagine what it would be like if you had to run on it all day, over rough terrain."

"Thanks for the concern Doctor Blake, but I'm sure I'll be fine." Carter retorted, looking back down at the spear. This could be fun.

"Don't push yourself Carter, you're only gonna end up hurting your foot eve more. Just stay here, you're probably gonna be more help in camp then you are hunting." Bellamy sighed, seemingly exasperated. He knew the way these went with Carter, if he was stubborn and demanding, she'll do it anyway, but if he took a much less un-Bellamy-like approach. Just as Carter was about to voice her offense he had left her, another voice spoke up.

Troublesome ~ Bellamy Blake [1]Where stories live. Discover now