Earth's Weaknesses: Parts 1-7 (The 100 Fanfiction)

PART THREE // Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Blood, Sweat and Tears

"You need to sleep if you want to heal."

"I've lost track of the amount of times people have told me that."

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I tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. The background noise in the cell wasn't much, but it wasn't the problem. I had been keeping myself busy for the past week, ignoring the problems and using any spare time I had for productive things. But now, spare time was all I had. The time left me thinking, about Astrid, about my father, about all the feelings I had managed to bury. All the fears I had conquered with the help of my friends that were now nowhere in sight. I thought I was strong enough.

I wasn't.

I stopped trying to sleep after the first night, waking up with a start in a fit of rage and fear that had caused me to throw a small piece of metal across the room. It hit the wall with a clang and the guards turned around, trying to find the source of the sound. I felt almost guilty, it seemed to have woken up one or two of the sick Grounders.

I had tried to stop the slaughter of Indra's army. But I had been too late, too weak. What was it my dad said during that jobi nut induced hallucination? Oh yeah, people die when you're around. It was true. They did. Now there was no point in trying to sleep because I was plagued with the same nightmares, the same fears, the same worries that despite all of my tries... nothing would ever stop the blood from spreading.

All the time I had was spent revisiting old memories, whether they were triggered by words, faces, or names. I remembered when everyone got sick, when I got sick.

"You need to rest, Alyssa. It's the only way you'll get better," Murphy advised.

I laughed, but the sound that came out resembled less a laugh, more of an animal getting shot. "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

"If you don't sleep, you will be dead," urged Murphy.

"That's unfortunate then."

I had the same fears then that I had now. The only difference was, there was no Murphy to convince me, and no Bellamy to tell me how to slay my demons.

Bellamy nodded. "I get it." He put an arm around me and I leant into him. "But there's a difference between getting killed and simply letting yourself die. And if you hide from the fear then you can't beat it, and you're letting this sickness kill you. You said it yourself, you're willing to fight for your life. So fight."

"I can't fight the Grounders if I'm asleep," I moaned, tilting my head back against the wall.

"Can't fight the Grounders if you're sick," Bellamy countered. "Or dead," He added.

Where was he now? Oh yeah, Pike's little lackey. "I'm doing what's best for my people", my ass. If he was doing what's best for us, he wouldn't be declaring war. There was no point arguing, I told myself. It changes nothing.

After the third night with zero sleep, Lincoln noticed. He came over and checked my wound. Jackson had come in earlier to change the bandages again and Miller had sneaked me some pain medication, but all the meds did was make me tired, and tired was exactly what I didn't want to be. I took the pills anyway, relieving the leg pain, and kept my hand tapping on my good leg in a steady rhythm for something to focus on.

"How are you feeling?" Lincoln whispered.

"Ai gonplei nou ste odon," I replied. My fight isn't over.