XXII. Playing doctors

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T W E N T Y   T W O | PLAYING DOCTORS

It was official. Carter did not like storms.

She had heard about them before. Finn used to tell her all different kinds of facts about different kinds of storms. Carter always imagined what it would have been like to see one. The strong blistering winds, rain that acted more like a spray of bullets crashing heavily against skin, the loud, menacing booms of thunder and flashes of lighting. Not to mention black, angry storm clouds that hovered ominously above people's heads.

Although, now, she didn't have to imagine a storm. She was in one.

Talons of her hair whipped at her face as she battled against the rain, her eyes squinted so it didn't completely obstruct her vision. When she and Octavia finally approached the tent that belonged to Monty and Jasper, Carter almost jumped at the relief she felt. The tent wasn't even that far away from the Drop ship, but she struggled pushing against the wind and rain. She preferred it when she was just told about storms, being in one sucked.

The second they were kind of sheltered from the callousness of outside, Carter was quick to pull her hair out of it's usual side braid and tied it up into a high pony tail so it was out the way, though she still had a few stubborn locks of hair that refused to be pulled back.

"What is it we're looking for?!" Octavia yelled over the loud rushing of the wind and the flapping of the tent.

"Monty told me a few days ago, he made a moonshine, if we can find it, we can use it to disinfect Finn's wound!" Carter repeated what Clarke had told her moments before. Carter was more than happy to leave the Drop ship in search for a sterilizer, she couldn't bare the sight of her best friend lying on a makeshift operating table, slowly bleeding to death. She felt helpless just standing there, watching the baited rise and fall of his chest. She needed to be able to do something, anything. The radio was already fixed and it was down to Raven to get the right frequency that would allow them to talk to the Ark.

"Is this it?" Octavia held up a large metal flask, there was no lid. Carter took the flask off her friend and brought it to her lips. As soon as she felt the welcoming burn of alcohol slide down her throat, she coughed slightly and wrinkled her nose at the strong smell.

"Yup." Carter coughed, handing the flask back to Octavia. "It's freaking strong too. Nice, but strong."

"There's another flask down there," Octavia gestured with her head to the other metal container on the floor. Both girls grabbed a flask each and took a deep breath, ready to face the fierceness outside. Even when wearing a thick jacket, Carter felt the rain smack against her skin, surprising her with every shot.

The Drop ship was the only real shelter in the entire camp, and even that made Carter wary-- she wasn't big on the idea of standing inside a metal room when there's lighting. Some of the teens were focused on keeping the drapes to the Drop ship closed, though they were fighting a losing battle especially with that wind. Once inside, Carter and Octavia were greeted with the same grim scene as before.

Finn lay unconscious on a table, the knife still protruding from his chest and a small rag wrapped around the wound to slow the bleeding. His breathing was still uneven and hollow, but now it seemed weaker. Carter peeled her gaze off the image and towards to the two girls that were stood over by the radio. They were both tense, though Raven seemed more rigid than Clarke, her eyes glued to her dying boyfriend.

Almost as if sensing their presence, Clarke turned her head and walked up to them, eyeing the flasks carefully. "Monty's moonshine?" She guessed, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

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