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There was a moment of calm. Like being in the eye of a storm. But Wells couldn’t mistake that look of intense anger growing in the other man’s eyes. It freaked him out a little. But of course that didn’t last forever as all hell broke loose. Now, Wells had expected a reaction, but the ferocity of which did come as a bit of a shock. Bellamy came at him so suddenly, the force pushed him back. It would’ve been comical had he not been on the receiving end of essentially getting his ass kicked. And what was worse? The man had a hell of a right hook. He could’ve sworn his jaw was very nearly dislocated. But before Wells even had time to react, Bellamy came at him again…and again…and again. Shoving him against the wall, Wells finally came to his senses, tasting blood in his mouth. Bellamy wasn’t yelling but his tone was still as angry and intense, maybe even more so. It was so weird.

Wells pushed back at Bellamy, hard, managing to get free of his death grip. But didn’t attack. Taking a defensive stance instead. And staying consciously aware of the gun stuffed down his pants. He thanked every higher being possible that he’d had the sense to swipe it from Bellamy’s holster. “Wait!” He yelled. Before the other man tried to beat him up again. “Give me a second! Please!” Holding his arms up defensively, Wells voice was clearly raised and panicked. He unfortunately had not quite mastered the weird skill of being menacing and quite at the same time. Circling around the room, he trying to avoid him. Wells really didn’t want to fight but he would if he had to, now that he was more prepared. But this really wasn’t how he wanted it to go down. “Just let me explain.”

“It kind of is. Serious, I mean.” Clarke looked nervous, and that made him nervous. It didn’t really look like anything was wrong. But behind the nerves, Wells couldn’t read her expression. She never usually got nervous when talking to him. He did know her better than pretty much anybody after all. So what could be causing this? “You know the ball, right?” Ah yes, he wasn’t into the whole party thing. But being the chancellor’s son he was of course required and expected to go, reluctantly. At least Clarke would be there. He could look forward to that part of the evening.

“Do you want to go with me? As, you know, my official date?” Oh. Wow. Clarke was asking him to the ball? As her date? He almost asked her to repeat herself to make sure he heard her right. The reason for her nerves suddenly became clear. Wells hadn’t thought about getting a date, even though he was probably supposed to. Choosing to go alone since the only person he could ever dream of going with, sat opposite him now. But he'd never have to courage to ask her to go with him. It seemed she was braver. “Yeah.” A grin spread across Wells’ face. He couldn’t believe this was happening. “I mean yes I’d love to go with you.” He gave out a short laugh. “Wait, you’re not kidding are you?” He asked teasingly. It was meant to sound rhetorical, but he actual hoped for an answer. Just to be sure, because this sounded too good to be true.

“Hey.” With just one word, he felt his stomach erupt with butterflies. She was even prettier up close. Get yourself together Wells. He held on to her hand, enjoying the way it fit into his before reluctantly letting go. He didn’t want to scare her off by being too forward. "I'm Octavia." He smiled as she introduced herself, acting like he hadn’t already known her name. "I just switched from a different station." That must have been why he hadn’t seen her around before. Because he definitely would have noticed.

"I'm trying to catch up." He noticed her books and had an idea. “Let me hold those for you.” They weren’t particularly heavy but he wanted to use any excuse to stay close to her and this was the best way, short of stalking her. Which he obviously would never do… Without waiting for her to protest he smoothly took the books out of her arms and carried them setting them on top of his own. “You know,” he began, turning to her. “I could help you out with catching up.” He said nervously, putting the offer out there and fearing rejection. “I mean if you want, not that you need help,” he quickly added. “But if you want help, I’m here.” Real smooth Wells, real smooth.

He couldn’t be dead, no, because then otherwise Clarke wouldn’t be here. Using her face and voice as an anchor, Wells tried to force himself to focus, and concentrate, so he wouldn’t slip back into unconsciousness. Who knew what lay in wait for him there? He was definitely confused, but he wasn’t panicked. Clarke’s presence calmed him. But he didn’t understand what was happening, or where he was. What the hell happened? The last thing he remembered…he’d volunteered to go on watch. But he wasn’t sure if he’d actually gone.

“Your neck is very, very fragile right now, Wells.” His neck? At her words Wells suddenly became aware of the dull throbbing pain concentrated on the side of his neck. “I do not want it to burst open again, you might die this time.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise. Die? “Clarke, where am I?” Panic finally began to seep into his tone. Wells forced himself to think back and figure out what might have happened. He must have been on watch and then someone attacked him? Grounders, surely. “What happened? Was it grounders?” That was his first assumption. And he hoped that it was correct because the alternative was much worse…what if one of the others attacked him? None of them were particular fans of his. Especially that kid Murphy. But could he have really done this to him? An feeling of unease settled in his stomach.

Wells sat on watch, after volunteering and for the first time since they came to the ground he felt content. Clarke finally knew the truth and they were friends again. Something he’d wanted since she started blaming him for her father’s death. Cutting through his train of thought, he heard rustling and turned to find Charlotte. Probably the youngest person sent down. She was too young to be here, to have to deal with all this. If there was anything he could do to help her, he would. It was his father that sent them all down here after all and so a small irrational part of him held some responsibility for that. Inviting her to join him, he listened intently as she spoke about her nightmares. Poor girl. Distracted by a bird in the distance he turned away for just a second.

But it was a second too long. “I’m sorry.” He turned back to Charlotte too late as she stuck a knife into his throat. Panic. Shock. He didn’t understand what was happening. This couldn’t be happening. Instinctually his hand reached for the wound while the other one reached for his assailant. The young innocent Charlotte. That was another mistake as she sliced off three of his fingers. Pain began to register and he collapsed to the ground. Blood gushing from the wounds, and from his mouth as he coughed it up. He tried to crawl. Only managing to gurgle out one word. “Help.” Oh god this was happening. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. And his killer? It wasn’t Murphy, who he could’ve expected. Not even Bellamy, who he’d argued with. But Charlotte; the youngest person sent down.

Tag: @charlotte

Wells sat in his tent alone, getting the first proper nights rest he’d had in what felt like ages. He hadn’t realised how much worrying over Clarke had affected him. And now finally having her back safe, he could rest a little easier. He slept through the commotion of the others returning to camp, only waking up to check on Clarke again. After making sure she was still okay, and still real, he went to go check on the others who had returned. Only not all of them were back. He patiently listened to their plan of going back to find them, Finn and Murphy, and immediately volunteered. But of course he couldn’t go, not with his leg in the state that it was in. It was the same reason he wasn’t able to go after Clarke when she was missing. While initially reluctant to agree to let Clarke go again, he realised she wasn’t going to listen.

He needed to keep himself busy if he wanted to stay sane. Because at this rate, he would go crazy with worry over Clarke. He’d only just gotten her back and now she was out putting herself in danger again. So he decided to go to medical. The others had told him about a young girl they’d found. She was the only survivor and he thought maybe he could help her out. Mel, her name was? She’d probably been through hell, so if there was anything he could do to help, he would. Limping his way into the room on his crutches, a cup of clean water in hand, Wells found her sitting alone on a bed. He assumed Abby had already checked her out and so he made his way over to her. “Hey,” he called, so as not to startle her. “You’re Mel right? I’m Wells.” He sat on the bed opposite to her, giving her some space. “I got you this, thought you might need it,” He offered her the cup, smiling.

Tag: amber2

“How?” Wells avoided answering the question, there was no need to cause concern, especially in her current state. “You don’t need to worry about me.” That was his job and it always had been. Wells needed to protect her, which he’d obviously been failing at lately judging by her injuries. But that would all change. He was here now, and nothing would ever hurt her again. Not under his watch. He continued to inspect her, as she explained and breathed a sigh of relief when she mentioned the others being alive. In Mount Weather? And she escaped? Confusion lining his face, Wells let her continue.

When she mentioned her self-inflicted wounds, he felt something akin to guilt, mostly anger at the people who forced her to do it. “I’m so sorry you had to do that Clarke.” He should have been there with her. Helping her, protecting her. Then maybe she wouldn’t be so banged up. She was safe now, that’s all that mattered. The Clarke in front of him now, was different from the Clarke he knew. Wells was only just starting to realise that. The ground had changed her. It made her a fighter; a survivor. “The people in Mount Weather – they live. They drain Grounders for their blood.” They were alive? “That’s impossible.” At least that’s what his father had told him. But now there were grounders, so why not people surviving in the mountain? After letting the shock of the revelation settle in, Wells recoiled slightly in disgust. “Is that what they’re going to do to our people?” If that were true then their days in that mountain were numbered. “We have to get them out.” And soon, if they had any hope of surviving.