Responsible for survival

Coming home

CLARKE'S POV:

Dr Tsing doesn't stop. Monty shoves the gun to her head. She pulls the drill out. Harper is still screaming. "Leave her alone."  Bellamy is the one to pull the trigger. More blood spills onto the floor. Monty rips at the ties holding Harper to the table. I hurry to Amaya, a shaking ball on the floor. "Clarke..." Harper whispers, tear obvious in her voice. "Fox..." I look at the dead body of my best friend. I bite back the sob. I bend down next my best friend's cold dead body. I hold her gently. She's freezing. The tears begin to pour. Monty helps Harper down, and carries her next to me. Fox is freezing, cold body pressed between us.

The door slams against the wall. "CLARKE!" A desperate voice yells. "The radiation is entering the canteen!" Someone yells. I bolt up, almost dropping Fox. Jasper is tearful. "People are starting to burn."
"Take... take the bone marrow..." Scott whispers. "It's... it's" his bottom lip wobbles, and tears pour further, "what she'd have wanted." I grab the tubes of bone marrow and shove the neatly lined up syringes into Bell's hands. I run, charging up stairs. I pass a tube and syringe to Jasper. "Get Maya, I don't know how much she can take." He nods, running into the canteen. I have 49 tubes of bone marrow. I enter the room, pressing the doors open.

A nightmare hits me. Adults, covered in blisters, are curling on the floor. Kids, crying in pain, huddling together. Maya is slumped against Jasper. Please let us be able to save them.

Gianne is curled in the corner, a few blisters beginning to burn her cheeks. I run, and Bell passes me a syringe. We plunge it in. "You're going to be OK." I whisper as tears roll down her blisters. Not everyone's here, and so many look to be already dead. We run, stabbing everyone who still seems close to life. We're rapidly running out of marrow. "Where's Maya's dad?" I pant to Bellamy as we stab a small crying six year old. He shrug, looking round.
"There!" He points. We jump over people, and press the marrow into him. His breathing slowly evens out. Maya points with a weak arm at a group of teenagers. We nod, and transplant as much marrow as we can. We're down to our final marrow. One left.
"Do it on her." A hoarse voice whispers, poiting at a four year old with a butterfly painted on their face. "You took her dada. It's the least you can do in return." A woman, sunken eyes and burning red cheeks whispers. Bellamy's Adam's apple throbs. We plunge it in. The kid stops shaking.

MURPHY'S POV:

Monroe walks into the hospital carrying Amaya, who sobs against Monroe's shirt, A shaking Graham, Sterling, Eric, Felix, Josh, Scott, and Monty carrying Harper follow her...
"Where's Charlotte?" my breath comes out in a rush, and I run forward, plucking Amaya out of Monroe's arms and straight into Lillith's. Monroe's eyes flood with tears and she shakes her head. No. She takes my arm, and walks me out. Tears begin to rapidly pour down my face. No.
"She fought, and fought." Monroe's voice is quiet, sniffing through the tears as she guides me down stair cases. No. A siren flashing silently on the wall outside the canteen. Monroe keeps walking. "I told her you loved her." She swallows, sniffing again. Her jaw wobbles as she pushes open a door. No. Charlotte is in a black bed, straps dangling off the edge. Her lips are blue, skin pale. She doesn't breathe. Monroe squeezes my shoulder. I fall next to her, clutching her hand. Her face goes blurry as more tears flood my eyes. "She broke a guy's shin when they first tried." Monroe whisper's, stroking my back. "She didn't stop fighting." I nod.
The door clicks open, and I flinch. I blink, more tears falling off my eyelashes. The woman I'd freed stands shyly in the doorway. She walks over, clutching the blanket round her. She holds it open. I hug her, sobbing openly on her shoulder. Monroe lets go.

CLARKE'S POV:

The army walk in on a floor of death. I send most of them to the chamber, to their own people. Maya leans on Jasper, helping those we could save onto their feet and into the supportive arms of tearful grounders, who slide swords into belts. I walk over to the four year old. Bell crouches next to me. "I'm going to take you to your daddy." Bell whispers, picking her up. "He's at my camp." The girl sniffs, clutching the woman's hand. I hold out my arms for her. She crawls into them, and her tears leak onto my shirt. Bell holds her fingers. We walk into the evening light.

Lexa hurries forward, but I don't put the girl down. She snuggles against me. I stroke her hair. "Your people are here." Lexa says, pained calm in her voice.
"What?" I almost drop the little girl.
"We saw them fall. They took your whole ship down." Bellamy's eyes bug.
"But they're all as good as dead!" Lexa shakes her head.
"I have already sent part of the army to the nearest three." She sighs, and swallows. "Three exploded in the sky."

There are screams at camp as we open the gates. Kids run up to us, hugging and crying. The grounder girl, Echo, supports Raven into the dropship. Monroe stops us from entering, the little girl waking up in Bellamy's arms. "I'll go and get him." Monroe nods, scampering up the ladder. Kids stand at the gate, waiting for kids who'll never come. The grounder lady clings to a shaking Murphy.

"ZARA!" the guard calls as he tumbles out of the dropship into the light. The four year old leaps out of Bell's arms. I grab his hand, and pull him away.

I pull Bell into our tent. The bed is unslept in. He sinks onto it. I lean my head against his warm shoulder. The distant calls and cries seem even further away. I clutch his hand. He pulls me onto his lap, and wraps his arms round me. He smells good, like woods and sweat and love. I nuzzle against his neck, and his head drops onto my shoulder. His heart hammers in my ear, thudding familiarity. I didn't think I'd hear it again. I wrap my arms round his waist, and rest my chin on his neck. "I missed you." He whispers. His lips brush my neck and I shiver.
"I missed you more." I press my lips against his neck. He laughs.
"Not possible." He pulls me down onto the bed, fingers playing with my shirt. His lips burn like fire down my stomach.