𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓/𝟏.𝟏𝟖.
☆ QUARANTINE ☆
"𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓿𝓲𝓻𝓾𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝓮𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰."

☆꧁*꧂☆

"WHERE IS HE?" Bellamy queried angrily, entering the inside the of drop ship as Clarke and Finn trailed behind. 

   Murphy was sitting huddled against the wall. His hair was greasy; fresh lacerations covered in blood combined with dirt coated almost every part of his exposed skin, causing him to look like an inhuman creature, an alien incoming from the depths of outer space. At the sound of Bellamy's harsh tone, he shivered immensely out of fear, scanning everyone with his distrustful glare as if they had been his enemies. 

   Rage veiled Bellamy's vision as his eyes collided with Allaia — she was kneeling next to Murphy, gently cleansing his injuries with a makeshift cloth saturated with moonshine. Their closeness even fueled Bellamy's fury, anger boiling up deep in his system, as hot as deadly a flame. It wreathed within, ravenous for destruction and vengeance, like a greedy beast. Murphy had almost ended Allaia's life due to his personal revenge, so Bellamy was livid, rigid with wrath that was allied to blast. 

"Everyone but Connor and Derek out." Bellamy barked, cinders of ire glimmering in his impatient gaze. "Now!"

   Delinquents complied, reluctant to get on his bad side, dispersing from the crowd and walking outside. 

"He claimed he was with the Grounders." Derek rehearsed with a shrug when Bellamy raised his eyebrow at him expectantly, demanding an explanation. 

"We caught him sneaking back into camp." Connor added.

"I wasn't sneaking." Murphy clarified weakly. "I was running from the Grounders."

"Anyone see Grounders?" Bellamy retorted harshly, with sarcasm audible in his rough voice. "Well, in that case—" He aimed his rifle at Murphy.

"Hey!" Finn lunged forwards, knocking the gun down. "What the hell's wrong with you?" He hissed.

"What the fuck, Bellamy?" Allaia hissed, casting him a glare filled with spite.

"We were clear what would happen if he came back." Bellamy snapped. "I specifically told him what I'd do if I ever saw him near you again, Alle." 

   His furious gaze alleviated as it fell upon the amber sparkles gleaming in Allaia's eyes, reflecting the warmth of sunshine. When he looked at Murphy, all the acrimony recrudesced with double force. 

"Get the fuck away from her, Murphy. Now!" Bellamy growled, lifting his rifle once again.

"No, Murphy, stay." Allaia pressed, heatedly glaring at Bellamy. 

Rapidly, she shielded Murphy with her own body, becoming the target of Bellamy's gun. "You're not gonna shoot me, Bellamy." Allaia claimed, staring at him daringly with her arms crossed over her chest in plain confidence.

   Bellamy clenched his jaw, throwing Murphy an intense glare ridden with roaring rage. Murphy seemed to be torn apart, but eventually, he chose to follow Bellamy's command, not wanting to accend fires of fury burning in his irises. 

"If he was with the Grounders, he knows things that can help us." Finn argued.

"Help us?" Bellamy asked incredulously. "We hanged him, we banished him and now we're gonna kill him." Bellamy stated. "Get the hell out of my way."

"No, Finn's right." Allaia interrupted. "Clarke, come and look."

The blonde quickly walked over, crouching in front of Murphy.

"Like hell he is!" Bellamy exclaimed angrily. "Allaia, think about Charlotte."

"I am thinking about her." Allaia snapped with gritted teeth, flinching at the memory of Charlotte falling into the abyss flashing across her eyes.

"What happened to Charlotte was as much our fault as his." Clarke said, cautiously examining Murphy's bloodied hand.

"Bellamy, he isn't lying." Allaia affirmed rigidly. "His fingernails were torn off."

"They tortured him." Clarke breathed.

"You and the Grounders should compare notes." Finn hissed scathingly at Bellamy.

"The Grounders know we're at war." Bellamy seethed before turning back to Murphy. "What did you tell them about us?" He demanded edgily.

Murphy inhaled deeply. "Everything."

"Well, shit." Allaia sighed. "I say we're screwed."

"Once he's better, we find out what he knows, and then he's out of here, okay?" Clarke decided. 

"And what if he refuses to leave?" Bellamy countered, his eyes backfiring with thunders. "What do we do with him then?"

Clarke looked at them briefly. "Then we kill him."

☆꧁*꧂☆

   AFTER ALLAIA FINISHED disinfecting Murphy's injuries, she quickly walked outside, her shattered nerves in a frantic need to be tranquilized. The mention of Charlotte cruelly elicited with her inmost emotions. It kindled her conscience like a lightwood, setting it in flames, and stirring with her sanity as her mind aligned the memory of Lottie's suicide, torturing her on the ruthless replay.

   The scent of the fresh air was sweet and floral; Alle inhaled it distressingly, letting the oxygen gain to her lungs. With the slight rising of her chest, a sense of serenity occurred, only to be dislodged by guilt and sadness once she exhaled. Allaia felt a burst of tears spilling down her cheeks. A frown appeared on her face — was she genuinely at the verge of falling into hysteria again?

"O my God, your eyes!" A girl shrieked.

   Allaia glanced at her in confusion, realizing she was speaking to her. Gently, Alle lifted her hand towards her face, wiping the liquid beneath her eye and quickly pulling away. Her bewildered cast collided with a smear of red rheum against her fingertips. 

She was crying blood. 

   As Lai let out an aquiver breath, she sensed tears leak down her cheeks, the bloom of crimson shade fluid dropping onto the fabric of her shirt. Nausea overpowered her, seemingly setting her insides on fire. In panic, she tried to analyze her symptoms, in an attempt to establish the reason of her sudden disease. Allaia heightened her intuition, various scenarios of possible reasons hiding behind her sickness flaring across her thoughts, as she endevored to ally all the clues in her brain to associate them into entirety.

Then the truth occurred to her.

Murphy.

Someone approached Allaia, but frantically, she held her hand out, warding them off. "No! Stay back!" The bleeding from her eyes was far away from ceasing, it even seemed to increase, soaking her shirt with blood.

Clarke rushed out of the tent and her eyes widened at Allaia's face coated with terrifying amount of crimson liquid. Red fluid was streaming down the blonde's face as well. "Are you okay?" She asked worriedly.

"It won't stop." Allaia coughed immensely, veiling her lips with her hand to stop the infection from spreading. Pulling her palm away, Alle gasped, noticing stains of blood. "Fuck."

"Clarke!" Raven called out, handing the blonde a makeshift cloth.

   Delinquents began to cough, their hands covered in smears of red liquid as they glanced around in terror. Instantly, Allaia realized it wasn't a coincidence — her afflictive suspicions affirmed, the intuitive sense morphing into ominous reality, maybe malign for all of them in the end, but she quickly suppressed the dire thought.

"Raven, get away from us." Allaia breathed, muffling her coughs. 

"What?" Raven implied in confusion.

"They're the ones who brought Murphy in." Allaia sighed, gripping Clarke's hand and rushing towards the drop ship.

   Yanking the sheets back, both girls walked inside. Murphy was convulsing rapidly, vomiting blood onto the floor as he struggled to breathe. Allaia reeled, quickly kneeling beside him.

"Murphy, hey, look at me. I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the Grounders. What happened?" She pressed.

"I don't know." Murphy admitted weakly. "I woke up, and they forgot to lock my cage. There was no one there, so I took off." He explained, fighting against coughs of blood tearing from his throat.

"They let you go." Allaia sighed in realization.

"Where is she?" Bellamy's harsh voice boomed from outside before he stormed into the drop ship.

   His eyes widened with pure concern as his eyes laid upon Allaia's face coated in stains of blood. Implicit worry curled inside Bellamy's mind like icy chains, twisting his senses in the suffocating anxiety, almost strangling him with its invincible strength. Instinctively, he rushed towards her, but Allaia held out her hand, telling him to stay away, in the attempt to maintain the distance between them and preventing him from getting infected by the virus. 

"Bell, stay back!" Allaia ordered frailly.

"Did he do something to you, love?" Bellamy growled, viciously staring at Murphy with lightnings of hatred.

Slightly, Allaia shook her head in denial.

Bellamy took a step closer, looking at her with fear glimmering in his cast. "What the hell is this?" 

"Biological warfare." Allaia stated, leaning against the cool metal wall out of exhaustion filling her entire body.

"You were waiting for the Grounders to retaliate for the bridge?" Clarke queried "This is it."

"Murphy's the weapon." Alle added faintly. 

   Bellamy paced around the drop ship, fury radiating from his nearly black eyes as he kept casting Murphy murderous glances, his worried glimpse flickering to Allaia in between. 

"Is this your revenge?" Bellamy demanded angrily, a hint of accusation audible in his rigid tone. "Helping the Grounders kill us?"

"I didn't know about this. I swear." Murphy said. Clarke dabbed at his forehead with a makeshift cloth soaked in fresh water. 

   A metallic taste filled Allaia's mouth. Sudden waves of nausea washed over her like the strongest current of the ocean, tying her insides in an inextricable knot. Her stomach lurched as she gagged, throwing up with an alarming amount of blood. Allaia glanced at Bellamy, her dark eyelashes brimmed heavy with crimson tears as watery droplets pigmented with red shade streamed down her cheeks. 

   Pure vulnerability and weakness radiating from her gaze petrified Bellamy to the core. He had to restrain himself from rushing towards her and taking her into his arms, harnessing his worry. 

"Stop lying!" Bellamy sneered, his thunderous rage impossible to extinguish. "When are they coming?"

"Murphy, think." Clarke pleaded. "What can you tell us that's useful? Did you hear anything?"

"They are vicious." Murphy uttered, shivering at the memory of his past tortures. "Cruel."

"You wanna see vicious?" Bellamy seethed vilely, stepping forwards. 

"Bell." Allaia snapped in a fragile voice, immediately gaining Bellamy's full attention, causing him to cast her a concerned look. "Don't. Whatever this is, it spreads through contact."

"Allaia?! Clarke?!" Finn yelled, entering the drop ship.

"Finn, you shouldn't be in here." Clarke told him.

"No one should." Allaia implied suggestively, firmly staring at Bellamy. He clenched his jaw as his eyes stubbornly remained locked on her face.

"I heard you two were sick." Finn panted worriedly. "Alle, what is this?"

"I don't know." Allaia admitted. "It's some kind of hemorrhagic fever. We just need to contain it before—"

   Derek keeled over, violent convulsions in control of his numb body. The seizure only seemed to intensify as blood splattered onto the floor when he was lying. Allaia hurried towards him as Bellamy quickly reached for her, but she jerked away from him agilely. 

"Don't touch me. You could get sick." Allaia said harshly. "Wash your hands, now. This is serious, Bellamy!"

"What the hell is happening to him?" Finn inquired as Derek choked on his own blood, desperately gasping for the slightest intake of air.

"I don't know." Allaia panicked.  

   Then Derek let out a strangled breath, falling limply onto the ground. Allaia crouched beside him, searching for a pulse.

Nothing. 

"Is he—" Bellamy implied nervously.

"He's dead." Allaia stated as dire chills ran down her spine.

"Angel..." Bellamy breathed shakily, staring at her with pure fear absorbing his soul in the unspoken anxiety of losing her. 

"Here. Alcohol. Hold out your hand." Allaia said quietly, disinfecting his hands with moonshine. Clarke poured over the liquor onto Finn's hands.

"What do we do?" Finn asked.

"Quarantine." Allaia replied. 

"Round up everyone who had contact with Murphy." Clarke clarified. "Bring them here."

"And everyone they had contact with?" Bellamy inquired as Finn left the drop ship.

"Well, we have to start somewhere." Allaia sighed. 

Clarke turned to Connor. "Who was with you when you found him? Who carried him in? Think."

"The first one there was Allaia." Connor responded weakly.  "And Octavia."

Upon hearing the mention about his sister, Bellamy abruptly stormed out of the drop ship.

"Clarkey, I need you to promise me something." Allaia pleaded quietly as a torrent of blood began to trail from her nostril. "Keep Bellamy away from me. From everyone who's infected. Please. He— He can't get sick."

"It'll probably be impossible to make sure he stays away from you, but I'll do my best, Alle." Clarke smiled slightly, pulling her into a tight hug. 

   While Clarke was making a ward round around the drop ship, Allaia kneeled beside Murphy, wiping stains of red fluid beneath his swollen eyes. 

"How do I look, doctor Kane?" Murphy questioned with a smirk. 

"The best you've ever had." Allaia laughed in between coercive coughs of blood tearing from her searing throat. 

"Not funny." Murphy scoffed. "Look... I'm sorry, okay? For what happened on the cliff." He apologized, intently watching her reaction.

"Don't worry about it now. Just rest and focus on getting better." Allaia advised.

"You should too." Murphy told her sternly. 

"Like you said, I'm a doctor. Everyone else's health is above my own." Alle explained.

"That's bullshit." Murphy claimed. "You look like hell, Allaia."

"Gee, thanks, John. I really appreciate it." She rolled her eyes in irritation.

"Love?" Bellamy's voice resonated from behind. "Please, can you check on O?"

"I guess that's my cue to shut up. Wouldn't wanna make your boyfriend jealous." Murphy taunted sarcastically. 

"He's not my boyfriend." Allaia's cheeks shone with a shade of a blossoming rose. 

"Wait, for real? Honestly, I thought you two already fucked and became a couple after I was banished. My, Blake's really taking his time. Isn't he worried someone might steal him from you?" Murphy derided with a chuckle, and Allaia showed him her middle finger, sending him a fake smile.

   From afar, Bellamy watched their interaction with narrowed eyes, observing Murphy's every movement like a hawk. Bellamy struggled to suppress the envy alight in his irises, heaving Murphy within thunders of pure rage. His scowl was hidden underneath the rag covering his mouth. 

Putting a material over her nose and lips, Allaia approached Bellamy and Octavia.

She used a flashlight to examine Octavia. "Okay, we're done here. No visible signs of swelling or bleeding." She assessed.

"So you're saying she doesn't have it?" Bellamy implied with relief.

"I'm saying she doesn't have symptoms." Allaia clarified. "But that could change. Though, there is a possibility she could be naturally immune to the virus. Her body could've already generated antibodies and beat the infection's ass."

"We need to keep her in here just in case." Clarke stated.

"No way." Bellamy protested angrily. "Look at this place. She'll get sick just being here."

"Do you wanna stop the spread or not?" Clarke asked in a monotone voice.

"Bell, we'll keep her on the third level with the people who aren't symptomatic yet." Allaia proposed gently.

"Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out." Clarke advised.

"Screw you, Clarke." Octavia hissed.

"I'll let you know if her condition changes." Clarke offered.

Bellamy nodded unsurely as Octavia and Clarke walked away.

"You know, you're really hot when you turn on the doctor mode, love." Bellamy hummed, vaguely trying to caress Alle's hair.

"No touching, remember?" Allaia hissed.

He pouted playfully. "Of course, doctor Kane." Bellamy complied with a sly smirk.

"Fucking unbelievable." Allaia coughed, spewing a distressing amount of blood onto the floor. 

Bellamy's flirtatious attitude vanished instantly. "How are you feeling, baby?" He asked worriedly, watching her attentively with concern written on his face.

"Awesome." Allaia mocked, wiping away the red fluid leaking from her mouth. "Bellamy, I—  I'm begging you, just get the hell out of here." She pleaded. "I can't let you get sick because of me."

"She's right, you know." Murphy snorted, approaching the two. "I'll take care of her, Blake."

Bellamy let out a humorless laugh with an undertone of fury, casting Murphy a glare filled with cinders of rage. "If you even breathe at her in a wrong way, you'll fucking wish to go back to your Grounder friends for a nice little torture after I'm done with you. What they had done to you will seem like a child's play compared to all the things I'm gonna do to you." He growled lowly into his ear, viciousness radiating from his harsh tone.

Bellamy fondly glanced at Allaia one more time before he left. 

☆꧁*꧂☆

  ALLAIA HAD NEVER seen a sickness consuming a person in such a rapid and cruel way, absorbing vital forces within its severe symptoms. The virus was effecting her entire body — there was a lively fire in her throat, her chest seemed to get agonizingly heavier each time she inhaled the air, her bones resembled a fragile structure which was bound to break, even her veins implied to convey flames instead of actual blood. High fever caused Alle's skin to radiate with insufferable heat as her face equally lost its natural glow, almost deadly ashen by now. A dull ache was ramming onto her skull excruciatingly, the pounding against her temples was unbearable. Allaia felt as if she had been stuck in an endless dream, slowly fading within it.

   Apparently she was one of the worst cases. Allaia's immunity to diseases was rather nonexistent since she spent her whole life isolated from society, unable to gain adaptive resiliency. Despite her obvious weakness, Allaia tried to help others as much as she was capable of, setting everyone else's health above her own. In between vomiting a distressing amount of blood, she would walk around the drop ship and aid ailing delinquents. Murphy forced her to lie down and rest, concerned that her condition only seemed to devolve instead of improving.

   In spite of the faintness overpowering Allaia, she went outside, stumbling on the way, to get some fresh air. Alongside Clarke, Alle stood on the ramp of the drop ship, sadly watching as two ill boys carried out a dead body, laying him to yet another corpse. 

The virus was reaping its harvest.

"All right." Bellamy called out to gathered teenagers. "Show's over. Get back to your posts."

Bellamy turned to Allaia and Clarke. "You got enough food in there? Water?" He questioned gently as his eyes were locked on Allaia's pale face in genuine concern.

"Yeah. Some medicine might be nice." Clarke replied frailly. 

"I'll see what I can do." Bellamy smiled. "Are you feeling