More and more delinquents piled into the dropship, all holding cloths to their mouths as they coughed up blood. Harley knew some of them weren't even ones that had touched Murphy, which meant the virus was incredibly contagious. She couldn't figure out why she hadn't caught it yet. Her throat hurt a bit, but she assumed it was from thinking she was going to become sick. Even so, she didn't leave.

Instead, Harley stayed and helped those who were. She had Clover rushing around outside as an extra hand, retrieving water and rations for the sick ones, while putting together plants into a medicine that wouldn't cure the disease but help the symptoms. Clover was raised on Farm Station, just like Monty, so the two put their heads together to figure out what they could come up with that could help.

Harley wiped her hands down with Monty's moonshine after helping a female inside and making sure she was comfortable enough. Clarke told her to continuously do so, just incase by some miracle Harley hadn't gotten the sickness. She put the top back on the container, turning around to see Clarke checking Octavia for any symptoms with a cloth pressed against her mouth with her brother watching over. Curiously, Harley walked towards them, hoping her friend was okay.

"We're done," Clarke confirmed, lowering the light. "No visible signs of swelling or bleeding."

"So you're saying she doesn't have it?" Bellamy questioned.

"I'm saying she doesn't have symptoms, but that could change," Clarke informed him seriously. "We need to keep her here just in case."

Disagreeing, Bellamy shook his head. "No way," he argued. "Look at this place. She'll get sick just being here."

Brightening with an idea, Harley looked towards Clarke. "What about the next level?" She questioned, pointing upwards. "We can start loading in people who aren't symptomatic yet," she suggested. "We shouldn't keep them around the already sick ones."

Nodding, Clarke agreed with Harley's idea. "Good plan," she complimented, leaning against the ladder, looking tired and weak. "We'll start rounding them up, starting with Octavia." Her eyes flickered to Bellamy, trying to reassure him that his sister would be fine. "Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out again."

Glaring, Octavia turned her head angrily. "Screw you, Clarke," she snapped.

Ignoring her, Clarke continued talking to Bellamy. "I'll let you know if her condition changes," she promised. Bellamy gave in, nodding, before leaving to prevent himself from getting sick. Clarke shuffled over, allowing Octavia to start up the ladder, but stopped her before she could. "Octavia, wait. I need you to sneak out again."

The request caught Harley off guard. "But - but you told Bellamy - " She stammered, looking back and forth between the dropship opening to Clarke. The blonde tilted her head, giving Harley a certain look, making her catch on. "Oh, yeah. Got it. Lying to the leader." She awkwardly gave the two girls a thumbs up, backing away.

"Hey, hey, hey!" The announcement caught Harley's attention when she left the pair, seeing that Clover was rushing inside the dropship, seemingly excited about something. Her voice was a bit muffled from the cloth hanging around her neck and covering her mouth.

Frowning, Harley caught her arm before she could get any closer. "You shouldn't be in here," she told her seriously. "I told you I can meet you outside. Everyone's really sick. We don't even know what this thing is." They've already lost two to the disease, and Harley didn't want to see anyone else dragged out after they choke on their own blood.

"Yeah, yeah," Clover dismissed Harley's worries, handing her a large canteen. "Here. I found thyme leaves in the woods. It won't taste so good with just hot water, but it'll soothe their stomach and throats, along with their fever. I'll make more," she promised, knowing the canteen didn't have enough to supply for everyone.

Feeling the worries fade, Harley grinned and turn the warm canteen over in her hands. "Thank you, Clover," she said gratefully. "I'll get some cups, make sure everyone will get some." She cleared her dry throat with a quiet cough before looking up and meeting Clover's odd stare. She gazed back, lost. "What?"

"Harley, your nose.." Clover spoke, worried. Confused, Harley reached her hand up and touched her lower nostril. She felt a wet substance dot the tip of her fingers and pulled her hand away, staring down, to see a trail of blood.

Suddenly, Harley could feel a burning hot liquid sliding up her throat, coming from her twisted stomach. She shoved the canteen into Clover's hands quickly before turning around and bending over, clutching her stomach, as blood erupted from her throat and splattered the ground in coughs. She could feel Clover's hand on her back and waved her hand, trying to tell her to back up before she caught the virus.

The blood dripping from Harley's nose and clogging up her throat as she coughed made it harder for her to breathe. She grew weaker, falling to her knees when her legs grew to feeble to hold her upright. "On her side, Clarke said get her on her side!" She could hear someone calling out, a raspy male voice. Harley felt two pairs of hands rolling her over, making sure she was rested on her side.

The second she had, Harley felt her throat clear up, making it easier to breathe. She was both coughing and gasping for breath, her hands in fists on the ground, before she was finally able to breathe correctly. Harley used her sleeve to wipe at the corner of her mouth, tearing her gaze away from the pool of her own blood beside her head. She looked behind her to see Clover staring at her, worried, with Murphy on the other side of her.

"You gotta wash your hands," Harley pleaded, motioning to Monty's moonshine when remembering that Clover had touched her. "Please. I'm sick." Clover caved, nodding and leaving Harley alone to rinse her hands.

Murphy, however, knew he was already sick. He outstretched his hands, helping the worn out girl leaned against a cloth hanging from the wall. Harley leaned back, pressing her head against it weakly. Clover returned in seconds, this time with a cup of the warm thyme water she had made. Protesting Harley shook her head and gently pushed the cup away. "Give it to the sicker ones," she requested. "I just need water."

Nodding, Clover gave Harley a sympathy look before covering her mouth and heading off to help the illest ones. "I'll get you some water," Murphy offered, rising.

"Thank you," Harley said in return, soft. She slung her arm over her warping stomach, turning her head to rest. She closed her eyes, panting, and hoping somehow Octavia would retrieve the cure.

━━━━━━━━

The next time Harley saw Octavia was what felt like endless hours later. She became weaker from the virus, and finally weak enough to accept Clover's specially made drink. The liquid was warm, not so tasty, but it calmed her sick chest and soothed her throat as promised. She was in a corner of the dropship, leaning against a torn up parachute as some type of pillow. Beside her was a small bucket, that Harley ducked her head into when retching up blood.

Octavia came in, following Finn who carried a sick looking Clarke. Harley forced herself to rise to her feet, leaning against the dropship wall and wincing when her head spun. Clarke was asking what she had to do to stop Finn from coming in, as Clover appeared. She allowed Harley immediately to lean on her, helping. The blonde had refused to leave, not while Harley was sick. She only would only split when they needed more warm drinks, and even then, she was back in minutes. Clover was one of the lucky ones.

"If he's not sick by now, then he could be immune like me and Octavia," Clover informed Clarke.

"Unfortunately not like me," Harley mumbled, leaning her head on Clover's shoulder. She was still heavily affected with the virus, the only thing easing the disease was resting and drinking. Clover smiled, reaching up to brush Harley's hair out of her face that was wet from sweating with the fever.

"Here," Murphy offered, sliding off the hung up sheet that was made into a hammock. "Come on. She can take mine." Finn nodded in thanks, laying Clarke down carefully. Murphy hobbled towards Clover and Harley, sitting on a crate. "She should be resting too," he stated, referring to Harley.

"In a minute," Harley replied, clearing her throat. "Octavia, does Lincoln have a cure?" She asked, almost desperate for this virus to be stopped.

Regretfully, Octavia shook her head. "No, but he told me the virus doesn't last long," she declared.

"It's true," Murphy confirmed. "I feel better."

Clarke tried sitting up, wanting to help. "Then they need to stay hydrated," she ordered. Octavia grabbed a cup of Clover's thyme made water, handing it to Finn.

"You need to stay hydrated," he informed Clarke, handing her the cup and forcing her to take a sip.

Clarke hardly swallowed before passing it back to Octavia. "Them too," she asked. Octavia hesitated, wanting the other to drink more, but Clarke pleaded. "Please.."

"It's okay," Octavia assured her. "I'll do it. Just rest."

"I'll help you," Clover offered. "Come on, you need to rest. Let's put you back in your spot. You need to sleep, get some thyme in you." The small joke made Harley give her a heavily ill smile as her friend directed her back to her original spot that she left, having to know if Octavia was alright and had a cure. Even if she didn't, Harley was glad it was a virus that would pass through quickly.

After Clover had Harley propped against the wall she originally laid against, Octavia appeared and handed her a cup. "Make sure she drinks it all, we still have a lot left that we'll pass around," she said.

Clover nodded, passing the warm cup to Harley. She smiled gratefully at the two, before tilting the cup into her mouth and drinking the liquid. She finishes it off, pleasing Clover and handing her back the empty cup. "Spew some more blood if you need to but get some sleep, okay?" Clover said softly, looking at Harley in concern. "I kinda like having you around."

Letting out a weak laugh, Harley nodded. "I'm glad," she murmured. She watched her walk away, sad, before feeling her stomach twist against. She knew that the thyme water she drank wasn't going to last long inside, and she turned her head, grabbing the bucket beside her. She barely had time to brush her hair back before blood was gushing from her mouth.

Coughing up blood became worse and worse each time. Harley started to wonder when the virus would start to fade, like it had for Murphy. At least she wasn't choking for air this time, . After, Harley spit one last time into the bucket before setting it aside. When she looked forward again, she could see Murphy was hanging about a foot away from her, leaning against the steel wall.

"Hi," Harley greeted, her voice quiet and gravelly from her retching. She slumped backwards, tilting her head to the side, panting as she held her chest. "I feel like I'm dying.."

The words came out darker and more emotional than Harley had meant. She thought of it as a joke, but after it was out, she realized it could be true. Maybe she'd be one of the unlucky ones that ended up choking on their own blood, a tragedy that couldn't have been avoided. Harley felt herself sniffle as she became frightened. "I don't want to die." The statement from Harley came out broken, as her voice cracked from fear.

"You're not going to die." Murphy's retortion caught Harley off guard. She peered up, sniveling. "I started feeling better. You will too, okay?" He assured her. He came off rough, despite the slight caring undertone that Harley was surprised to hear after the time she's known him. "What happened to the annoying social butterfly that told everyone it's going to be okay?"

The taunt made Harley crack a small smile. She was warm from the fever, and it was messing with her head, bringing her down. "If this virus doesn't kill me, maybe the grounder's will when they come," she whispered, bringing her hand up to rub her palm at her teary eyes. "It's fine." She tried to calm down when seeing Murphy's tense expression. "Maybe I'll see my family again."

"Your family?" Murphy repeated. He finally knelt down, this time eye-level with Harley. "Were they in the ship that crashed?" Harley nodded. She could only assume so, due to them being on Alpha Station and Raven still hasn't been able to contact The Ark to know anything different. He was quiet, his hands on his knees.

It was too quiet for Harley. She didn't like the odd silence, especially coming from Murphy. He was full of sarcasm and was only pleased when he got on everyone's nerves. Now, he was silent, as if he was holding his tongue. "What?" Harley questioned, curious and interested.

"What if.." Murphy began, hesitant. "They weren't your family? What would you do?" He questioned.

"Weren't my family?" Harley repeated, suddenly severely confused and assuming Murphy was messing with her. "I'd be pretty confused. Everyone comes from somewhere."

Noticing Harley wasn't taking him seriously, Murphy frowned. "I'm being serious." Sitting up straighter, Harley stared at him, more confused. Tearing his eyes away, Murphy raised his bloody hand and ran it through his hair before finally finishing what he was trying to say. It was blunt, quick, as if he was ripping off a band-aid without warning Harley first.

"I'm your brother, Harley"