Fearless (Bellamy Blake - Book 1)

Chapter 95

"She awake yet?"

My eyes are torn away from Raven's limp body to see Bellamy walking into the drop ship.

The first thing I notice is that yes, he is alive. The second is that although he looks relieved to see me alive, he very quickly looks angry, and I don't just mean someone-forgot-to-put-their-empty-ration-pack-on-the-refill-pile-and-instead-put-it-back-in-the-unopened-pile-for-some-poor-unexpecting-soul-to-find angry (which, yes, I may have done once), but I'm talking, Carter-just-did-another-foolish-thing-except-this-time-she-got-herself-into-a-hostage-situation-and-got-shot-in-the-process-and-knocked-herself-unconscious-from-the-blood-loss angry.

There's a big difference, especially when Bellamy Blake is on the giving end of both of those times. But as quickly as I saw it, he rids the emotion from his face.

"Before you yell at me, I'd like to point out that I was actually trying to help you and didn't actually realise just how bad Murphy was at shooting a gun," I ramble out quickly. "Did I mention that I was trying to help you?"

Bellamy's eyebrows furrow so deep they almost merge with his eyes, and I wince at the oncoming argument we're about to have.

"Next time I'd appreciate you not helping me." I think the calmness of his voice terrifies me more than the fact my arm is in a sling.

"Huh?" I blink at him.

"We don't have time for...whatever this is," Finn says, gesturing between Bellamy and I. "We have to leave."

Bellamy looks away from me and nods, "then let's go." He walks out of the drop ship without another word, leaving me sitting there completely stunned.

"Hey," Clarke places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I nod, using my right hand to push myself off the table. I clench my hand around the edge as I gain my balance and wait for the lightheaded feeling to fade before letting go and walking.

Moving my body even in the slightest causes pain to shoot up my left arm, but I try my hardest to use it as an incentive to keep moving. My eyes lock onto Raven as she starts to stir, Finn and Clarke trying to help her onto the stretcher.

When I step outside, the light and sounds overwhelm me slightly, and I stand with my mouth agape at the sight of the bare camp before me. Our tents have been torn down and fire pits are being put out. It looked like how it did when we arrived—save for the giant wall of random things that surrounded the area.

A weird feeling bubbles within me as I look around, a few people smile at me and say they're glad to see that I'm okay, but most walk around looking rather lost—figuratively. I can't say I blame them.

I move out of the way as Finn and another guy I hadn't notice go in the drop ship walk out carrying Raven on the stretcher.

"Hey," she croaks at me with a faint smile. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"You too," I say to her, though I can't seem to muster up a smile. Real or fake.

"When we get to...wherever we're going, let's talk, okay?"

I nod at Raven sceptically, "yeah, okay. Sure."

She gives me another small smile before she's carried away. Finn gives me a weird look, but I shrug in response.

What does Raven want to talk about?

We've tried—multiple times—to work through our problems. I just thought we silently agreed not to dwell on the past any more, but I guess she still has doubts about me knowing that Finn was cheating on her.

"Hey, Carter," I turn and see Octavia jogging over to me. "Good to see you walking again."

"Thanks," I try not to cringe. Does everybody know I got shot by Murphy? Who the hell am I kidding—of course they do.

"Here," Octavia passes me my axe that had previously been in my tent. "It was the only significant thing in your tent."

"Right," I nod, taking it from her. "Thanks."

Octavia makes a move to leave but pauses, turning back to me. "He was really worried, you know—Bellamy."

"Yeah, well, he's mad at me now," I sigh.

"Yeah," Octavia nods with a small smile. "But you would be too, wouldn't you? If the roles were reversed, if he sacrificed himself without even knowing if it would help you at all, you'd be mad too, right?" I nod with a small frown, and Octavia gives me a knowing look, "then I'm pretty sure the feelings you guys have for each other is mutual. All you gotta do is stop yelling long enough to realise it."

With that, Octavia walks away, and I'm suddenly hit with the realisation of how much has changed since the day we landed on Earth. Octavia Blake is no longer the rebellious girl trapped in her brother's shadow. She's making a name for herself; finding who she truly wants to be. I'm slightly envious of that, but I'm glad she's following her own path.

I'm not sure whether it's Murphy, the blood loss, or the fact I've been unconscious twice in the space of a few weeks—or maybe it's the taunting voice of my father that still haunts me, but I'd like to believe I've changed too. I had it in my mind that I wanted to become a better person once on Earth—I stumbled, a lot, but didn't fight the fact I'm not cut out to be a leader, I took a step back and let Clarke and Bellamy do what's right. I may have made some bad decisions that lead to people dying—whether that be Atom, Wells or Charlotte, or the people from the Ark—but I've learned from them. I regret them.

Regret is what makes someone human. What separates the good from the bad, or those willing to change.

And I was willing to change. I still am.

I don't regret killing him, because I know that regret is the one thing my father never did feel. Not when he would trade our rations for moonshine or worse, or the fact he was tearing our family apart. He never cared about us.

As I walk alongside my fellow delinquents—the people who may have once feared me but are now just my people because they've seen what I've done to protect our home, and that in the end we're not all that different—as we walk out of our camp gates, I have to admit that yes, Bellamy, I am very much awake.