CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
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      NO DECISION HAS BEEN MADE. The way Jaha was talking, it sure sounded like one had been made. Taylor had to leave mid-speech just because what was in it was making her so angry. He arrived out of the blue only to tell them they had to leave and abandon everyone at Mount Weather. The same people he had sent down to begin with.

She was tired of the utter disregard for people's lives. The decisions they spoke of swirled around in her head, crashing together in a loud and disorderly.

"Hey!" a voice called out to her, all too familiar. "Taylor!" She turned around to find Bellamy rushing toward her with Clarke in tow, both looking gravely serious. Exchanging a quick hug, she glanced at him curiously.

"What's going on?" she asked, looking between the two in concern. She was beyond glad that he was okay, but the way they looked it seemed like this was much more than just Jaha's command to march away from the place.

"I can explain on the way, just follow me, Clarke is going to get a medkit," Bellamy rushed out, nodding at Clarke, who dashed off without a word to go and retrieve what he required.

"Why does Clarke need a medkit? Is Octavia okay? What's going on?" she questioned worriedly, her eyes widened immensely when she looked at him.

"Once Clarke catches up, I'll explain everything," he assured, absently squeezing her shoulder, evidently lost in his own worry. She didn't have a substantial amount of time to adjust to this information before light footsteps behind them alerted them to Clarke's presence.

All three of them slipped out through Raven's gate and started their way on a very familiar path. "Are we going to the dropship?" Taylor questioned, double checking her surroundings, very sure that she could not be mistaken.

"Yes," Bellamy confirmed. "It's Lincoln. We found him."

His grave tone gave her no comfort, and she exchanged a quick look with Clarke. The fear of what was happening was gnawing at her insides.

Once they finally arrived, Bellamy wasted no hesitation in leading them into the dropship as fast as he could. It was eerily silent inside of the ship itself and he pointed up at the ceiling. Lincoln was on the second level. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she reached the top of the ladder.

When Clarke entered above her, it was silent for a moment. That silence was only broken by utterly primal screams and guttural groans, the sound of metal clashing against metal resounding in their ears.

Lincoln was standing where he stood mere months ago, their prisoner, but this time with blood on his face and an inhuman look gracing his features.

"It's okay, it's okay. He's been restrained," Bellamy assured them, looking nervously from Clarke to the man tied up in front of them. He continued to fight against the chains loudly and Taylor felt her stomach drop at the sight.

Octavia was already there, sitting on the floor and looking exhausted and devastated. She couldn't bring herself to look in the direction of the sounds anymore.

"I can't believe we're back here again," Clarke said, voicing what they were all thinking.

"Can you help him?" Octavia asked, straight to the point.

"I don't know," Clarke admitted, taking a few steps closer to him in curiosity. "I knew Mount Weather controlled the Reapers. I had no idea they were creating them."

"If they can do that to Lincoln, what are they doing to our friends?" Bellamy suggested, looking at everyone with wide yet purposeful eyes. The question hung in the air with no answer, the only sound coming from Lincoln, who continued to scream.

All four of them watched when suddenly the screaming died down and Lincoln began to seize up in his chains. "He's convulsing," Clarke pointed out, looking back to Bellamy and Octavia.

"What does it mean?" Octavia questioned immediately, looking over worriedly as she held a flashlight up so Clarke could get a better look at him.

"What happened to his leg?" Clarke said instead, gesturing towards a wound that still looked like it was bleeding heavily. Octavia was quiet for a long moment, looking utterly guilty as slight tears began to form in her eyes.

"I shot him," she confessed. Clarke stared at her until Bellamy interrupted.

"Clarke, he's lost a lot of blood," he told her. She turned around until she faced Lincoln again and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She took a few steps forward, slowly, only making Lincoln lash forward and scream louder.

"Clarke," Taylor warned, stepping forward from her position nervously.

"Can you shine the light on his neck?" she asked, to which Octavia obliged quickly. "Needle marks."

"You think he's being drugged?" Bellamy said.

"Maybe," Clarke answered. Before she could go any further, Lincoln ripped one of the chains from the wall and hit Clarke in the head. Octavia surged forward and screamed his name, but she was merely knocked to the side while Clarke was locked between his arms.

Bellamy attempted to punch his arms away from Clarke while Taylor ran up to try and pull her away. It worked to a degree, all three of them were sent flying. The other chain to his arm broke and he was only held down by one foot.

Once he got his bearings, he lunged out at them, Bellamy and Octavia trying to act quick before he could break completely free. Clarke had managed to move back quicker than Taylor had, leaving her open to his rage.

Before she could back away, Lincoln grabbed hold of her foot and dragged her toward him violently. She let out a yell, trying to kick at his face with her other foot, but that was soon debilitated along with her other one. In the midst of their struggle, he had managed to yank his other foot away from the floor and all Taylor could do was try and defend herself with her hands.

"Hey!" Bellamy called out, distracting his attention, and charged at him with a shock baton. The two collided beside Taylor and Bellamy was quickly taken down by Lincoln. He began to hit him over and over again and Clarke got knocked away when she tried to intervene, Octavia screaming and charging them with a metal rod once Clarke failed.

Octavia hit Lincoln across the head and he fell aside, unconscious and unmoving.

__________

"We have to stop the bleeding and get the bullet out — hold his leg," Clarke ordered, frantically trying to get the proper tools above a slowly stirring Lincoln. Bellamy held down his leg while Octavia tried to give him some water, which he spat out violently right in her direction.

"I'll get some more," Octavia said with shaking hands, standing up to leave the ship.

Bellamy stood up immediately after her and blocked her way of exiting. Taylor took over holding down his leg, the chains they used to tie him down already doing most of the supporting.

"O, as soon as the drug is out of his system he'll be okay," he tried assuring, looking her directly in the eyes. Octavia looked down and had a distant look on her face. She finally looked up with more clarity.

"You can't protect me from this one, big brother," Octavia replied, edging past Bellamy and down the ladder. Bellamy returned to the floor next to Taylor and seemed to be extremely focused on Lincoln's leg now.

She knew the look. When he had no means to protect Octavia. Taylor put a hand on his shoulder lightly and gave him a glance of understanding. He nodded and attempted a smile, cut off by Lincoln's sudden screams of pain.

Clarke was digging into his leg with full force now, trying to extract the bullet with a strained expression. She dug around for a few more seconds, Lincoln's screams only getting louder. A metallic clink sounded near the floor and she nodded.

"Got it," she announced.

Taylor sat back and took a deep breath while Clarke gathered the proper disinfectant and bandages to put on his leg. "Your mom would be proud," Bellamy commented, watching as she wrapped the final length of bandage tightly.

"My mom would know how to save him," Clarke shot back, clearly disappointed with herself.

"Clarke, we've never seen this before," Taylor comforted, standing up with the other two, trying to ignore the fact that there was a man twitching in pain just at their feet.

Octavia emerged from the ladder, this time with a large figure following behind her. Bellamy was quick to aim his gun directly at him. Clarke turned from washing her hands only for Lincoln to begin seizing.

"Bellamy, stop. He's Lincoln's friend and their healer," Octavia objected. Bellamy wavered, but didn't lower his gun completely. The man narrowed his eyes at him through dark blue war paint, approaching Lincoln slowly as he convulsed on the cold floor.

Clarke watched him carefully look through an assortment of vials, selecting one at the very edge of his collection. Taylor pressed her hand protectively to her knife.

"What is that?" Clarke questioned warily, eyes darting from the vial and his face. The man ignored her completely and focused all of his attention on Lincoln.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," he said quietly, opening the vial and lowering it to Lincoln's face. Taylor paused, confused at how familiar those words sounded.

"Wait!" she said aloud, not feeling right about how dangerously close the liquid was to Lincoln's face. Clarke's eyes widened in a realization that Taylor had not yet come to.

"No!" she exclaimed, putting her hand out and catching the drop just before it could reach his mouth. Bellamy aimed the gun directly at his head and Taylor withdrew her knife, pointing it at his back.

"Back off, right now!" Bellamy ordered, the man looking around tensely. That wrong feeling only felt confirmed at the look on his face - the look of being caught.

"Yu gonplei ste odon," Clarke breathed. "It's what they say before death."

"Anya," Taylor remembered. It was what she had whispered to the barely alive Grounder in the mining cart before snapping his neck. Clarke nodded.

"He's not trying to heal him, he's trying to kill him."