Bellamy tentatively moved his hands over his thigh, pressing lightly and then with more force over where the blade had gone in. He was amazed at how the pain from the wound was practically gone. Clarke was talking to Dee as Bellamy marveled over the fact he was no longer bleeding out on the ground. His muscles still screamed with exhaustion, but the wound itself didn't offer up any pain or any hindrance to his movement like it had before. If only Dee had been there when he first received the wound. He could have killed that Grounder who had Clarke.
"Dangerous is one way to put it," Bellamy grumbled in response to Dee's question. After all, he'd just been stabbed trying to rescue Clarke, who'd be abducted after running away because they'd irradiated hundreds of people. The place was dangerous, the people were dangerous. With a glance to Clarke, Bellamy thought that they were dangerous too, given what all they'd done. But he didn't want to draw attention to that fact.
"I don't think I need to go to a medical center," he offered up, but looked Clarke over. She could survive without a trip there, but it would be her call. "Thank you," he offered again, reaching over to put a hand on Dee's arm. Gratitude didn't come easily from Bellamy, but Dee managed to take a serious injury and just make it go away, leaving him better able to take care of his people if they needed it. It meant a lot. He was just as curious as Clarke to know what it was like where she came from. Could other people do the same things she could do? Was her home world anything like this, or more dangerous like theirs?