Responsible for survival

Thundering

BELLAMY'S POV

Dawn light streams into the tent through a hole I hadn't noticed before. It shimmers on Clarke's hair, turning it golden. A few faint freckles gleam on her nose. Her eyelashes brush her cheeks. I can't take my eyes off her. She wriggles, sliding closer to me, one leg intertwining with mine.

Blinding burning light peers into the tent. A head, older and more wizened than one I'd ever seen peers in. "Bellamy Blake?"

"Hi?" I sit up. Clarke claws at where I used to be.
"I have a message from your sister." I jump out the bed, feet crashing onto the cold mud. Monroe groans, pulling her jacket over her head.
"Is she OK?" I hurry to him, pushing him out the door and into the bright daylight. "Is she hurt?" The grounder arches an eyebrow, eyes deep brown and bloodshot.
"She's fine. She is going to Polis with Indra."
"What?" my stomach drops. "Where's that?"
"Sixteen hours from here on horseback." The grounder nods. My knees buckle, and suddenly I'm tumbling to the ground. His eyebrows knot together.
"Sixteen?" I whisper. The grounder nods.
"I must return home." The grounder draws his shoulders up. "Indra will ensure Octavia's protection." The grounder swirls out. Harper, who stands alone in the centre of the camp watches him leave. I remember she had early morning inside camp duty. The fire wood is already neatly piled. She walks over.
"Is everything alright?" she asks, helping me up.
"No... maybe... I don't know." My breath fogs in the bitter morning air. "O's gone to Polis." Harper tilts her head, guiding me to one of the stone and pushing me onto it. "Sixteen hours away on horse back." My bottom lip wobbles. She squeezes my shoulder.
"She'll be okay, this is Octavia." She pats it a couple of times. I nod, eyes scanning the organised camp. The firewood stacked in order of size, the pile of moonshine cups all glimmering clean in the dawn light, stones organised round the fire pit. "Don't ask... I've been on shift all night. There are only so many laps I could do without going mad." She laughs. Her gaze shifts suddenly towards a movement in the sunlight. Her hand tears off my shoulder, and she leaps over the rocks across the camp. I blink into the sun light. Monty. He shuffles forward, eyes bleary and sleep covered. Harper swoops her arms round his waist. "Morning sleeping beauty." She giggles, steering him towards the stones. He groans and tightens his grip on her arms.
"Was it always this bright?" he moans, head lulling onto her shoulder as she pushes him onto the stone next to him. She purses her lips, rolling her eyes.
"And you refuse to deal with me when I'm hung-over." She laughs, sweeping his head off his forehead. She frowns when she presses a hand against his forehead. "You been sick yet?" she asks, crouching in front of him.
"No." Monty groans. "I don't want to."
"You've got to." She sighs, pulling him up by his under arms. She grins at me, laughing. "Welcome to the farm station morning after party." She gently carries Monty towards the 'toilet' and rubs his back as he throws up. It's clearly not the first time, she loops his hair behind his ear. He slumps against her.
A cracking stick startles me. I whip round. Monroe drags her feet. I get up, trying to radiate the same confidence as Harper had, but I've only hung out with hungover Monroe once, when she'd drunk herself into a stupor after being kicked off the guards. "No." She groans as I walk towards her. "I am going to kill a b**** and I don't want it to be you." She shuffles past me, to the water box, and picks up a metal cup from the pile. It clangs against the side of the box and she flinches, groaning incoherently. She chugs a cup of water, then another. She turns around, and looks at me. "OK. You can talk now."
"Morning to you to." I laugh, making her sit on a rock.
"What idiot opened our tent?" she asks, blinking in the bright light.
"Grounder?"
"What?" she properly looks at me, emerald eyes bloodshot.
"Octavia's gone to Polis." I sigh, stretching. "Sixteen hours from here on horseback."
"Yikes." She pats my shoulder, and stops with her arm half in the air. She cusses and pushes herself up, hand digging into my shoulder. She murmurs something I can't hear, and she strides off towards the gate. I run after her, expecting her to trip over. She reaches the gate, and Scott looks down at her, tilting his head. He looks at me, eyes wide and squinted. 'Hungover' I mouth. He bites his lip and nods a couple of times, shoulders bouncing with him. "You alright, Monroe?"
"Greattt.." she drawls, "If I didn't feel like I've got a period cramp in every f***ing crevice of my body." She pauses, eyebrows pushing down until she remembers why she came over. She clicks her fingers, then flinches at the noise. She points at him, and Scott shuffles backwards, small feet pressed against the fence. Whatever she was going to say is cut off by loud sounds of retching echoing across the camp. I rush off towards the signs, calling Seth to keep an eye on Monroe. If there was one thing I know about my hungover bestfriend is she's tetchy very quickly. I'm probably getting flipped off right now.