Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Two girls sat across from each other, in a small metal cell, bouncing a small red ball back and forth between them. The two were silent. They didn't have anything to say to each other. They were too bored for useless words. And talking just wasted oxygen.

The two girls were complete opposites. Lottie was the tall black-haired girl, with fierce features and an army jacket. Jessica was the short dirty blond headed girl with soft curls and dainty flower necklace. Lottie was outspoken with violent tendencies, while Jessica was quiet with wicked thoughts running through her head. Jessica was the calm, and Lottie was the storm.

The door to the small cell opened, causing the two girls to lose their concentration on the small red ball, as their focus turned to the three guard members entering.

"Prisoners 275 and 307 please stand." The first guard stated, as the second one opened a silver case, and the last one stood in the doorway with his teaser rod out and at the ready.

Jessica all but jumped to her feet, not wanting to cause any disturbances. The second guard pulled a silver bracelet out of the case and move towards her with it, asking her to hold out her wrist.

Lottie pocketed the red ball, giving the guards a sharp glare as she slowly got to her feet. "Wait, Jessica, what's that bracelet?" She said towards the first guard who spoke.

At the sound of Lottie's question, Jessica jerked her hand back to her torso, before the guard could secure the bracelet, cradling it as though she had been burned.

"It tracks your vitals, now comply or we will take drastic measures." The guard said the last part towards Jessica. The shorter girl looked over towards the taller, who nodded her head.

After the bracelets had been secured onto the wrists of the girls, they were lead out of the cell with nothing but the order of “Follow me.”

The girls didn't say too much, sure they were scared, confused, and panicking. But they knew that causing a disturbance wouldn't do them any good. They knew that something major was going down. Lottie knew from her last cellmate that they didn't give you a bracelet to track your vitals before floating you. No that would be a waste of resources.

Jessica looked over at the girl who had come to be a close companion to her, during her 7-month stay in the sky box. She could see her friend, whose posture was perfect, whose walk flowed with confidence, and whose eyes while steeled in front of her were scared behind her mask.

It seemed that every kid over the age of 13 was being taken by the guards. All of them having the same steel bracelet that matched hers. Was this a mass floating? A mass trial? Were they being released? Jessica didn't know what was going on, and the noise of the scared kids around her wasn't helping.

They're killing you all. You are going to die, and they are taking everyone with you. This is your fault. Jessica was freaking out, the noise, the confusion, the fact that she had just lost Lottie in the crowd. The guards were pushing her, but she couldn't get her legs to work. Her breath had sped up almost to the point of hyperventilating. People were running into her. Her eyes couldn't focus on anything around her it was all just a spinning blur of colors.

Someone had grabbed her shoulders, and it sounded like a voice was talking to her, but all she heard was the never ending cycle of This is your fault.A prick on her neck was the last thing that she felt before the voices stopped and darkness overtook her vision.

Lottie had been in front of a very pushy guard, causing her to practically speed walk her way to the drop ship. She knew that she had lost Jessica somewhere in the crowd, but she knew that they would end up at the same place eventually, so she didn't worry too much. She walked through the crowd of delinquents with her head held high, making her give off an image of superiority and imitation. Of course, the fact that there was a guard behind her, holding a lightsaber to her back may have taken away a bit of that image.

As she was pushed into the drop ship and forced up onto the second floor, she took a moment to look around. The walls were that dull grey metal that seemed to surround her whole life. Hard black chairs were placed literally everywhere that they could fit them, with red harnesses on them, there were even some standing harnesses. She prayed that she wasn't one of the unlucky bastards that got to buckle in there.

Kids and guards were scattered around the drop ship, some kids looked scared to death, while others held impassive faces, but some of the kids were carried in, like a blonde girl who was all but dead to the world thanks to a tranquilizer dart in her neck. Wannabe Luke Skywalker, or the guard behind her, pushed her up a ladder to the third level and into a seat that was up against one of the pipes. As he roughly buckled her in, she heard an all too familiar laugh come from the seat next to her. The guard left as soon as she was in.

"For fucks sake." Lottie groaned as she looked over at her neighbor.

Of course, he was there, the annoying shit was always around, even on a fucking drop ship full of criminals she had ended up next to him. She didn’t know that he had been confined. It made sense that he was a criminal though, honestly, she would have thought that he would have been arrested before she was.

"Nice to see you too, Cupcake."

Chapter Text

Murphy, fucking Jonathan Murphy.

Lottie's childhood neighbor, and one of the only constant things in her life, not that she wanted him to be there. No matter where she went, it seemed that Murphy was always there.

After growing up living next to each other, sitting next to each other in school, running in similar social circles, and even being neighbors in the skybox, it seemed that the two were destined to be there for one another, whether they liked it or not.

"Go away, Murphs." Lottie said with a groan, moving her body as far away from him as she could, while being strapped in.

Murphy rolled his eyes and gave the girl next to him a hard look, "I'm strapped to a chair on a drop ship. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not going anywhere."

Lottie just let out a loud, exaggerated sigh and slammed her head back against the seat, "Ouch."

The screen on the wall was on, showing the image of the Ark's Chancellor Jaha. “You have been given an unprecedented opportunity to put the past behind you,” The Chancellor was saying, it was streaming to the second and third level of the dropship, but from the background it was clear that he was at the entrance to the ship, “The mission on which you are embarking is dangerous, as your crimes have made you expendable, but your bravery will be rewarded. If you succeed, your infractions will be forgiven, and you will be able to start new lives on Earth.”

Most of the kids, on Lottie’s level at least had drowned out the Chancellor’s voice, not a single one of them gave two flying fucks as to that he was saying. “We will be monitoring your progress very closely, in order to keep you safe.”

“I wonder if Jaha shits in the toilet as much as he does in his speeches?” Murphy said with a chuckle, nudging Lottie with his elbow.

“I haven’t even been next to you for ten minutes, and you are already bring out the shitty jokes? God, I wish I was back in confinement.”

“You love my shitty jokes, just like I adore your shitty puns.”

The Chancellor’s voice boomed over the small talk that the delinquents were carrying on. He still held himself like a soldier, but his years on the Council had give him a politician’s gloss. “No one on the Ark knows what you are about to do, but if you succeed, we will all owe you our lives. I know that you will do your very best on behalf of yourselves, your families, everyone aboard this ship: the entire human race.

“The drop-site for the mission has been carefully selected. Mount Weather once was a military stronghold, that had the ability to sustain three hundred people for an entire year though a nuclear war. There you will find rations and supplies. Good luck and Godspeed.”

The screen cut to black after a few seconds, before numbers flashed on screen. The countdown had begun. In three minutes they would no longer be on the Ark. They would no longer be in the place that humanity called their home for the past three hundred years. They would be free.

Jessica awoke in a strange place to the sound of a gunshot. She didn’t know where she was, as the last thing she remembered was losing it after she lost Lottie in the crowd. With quick glances at her surroundings she knew that she was on a ship of some sort, strapped to a chair, and between two young teens around her age who were freaking out as much as she was, only they seemed more on edge because of the fact that the Chancellor was just shot by a guard member as the door to the ship was closing. The guard managed to push the Chancellor out the door just in time. As he slid into one of the empty chairs and strapped himself in, the ship begun moving through space. 

You should have been shot not the chancellor the voice echoed through her head in her momentary confusion, that rouge guard still has his gun maybe he’ll use it on you next.

Jessica was losing it again, she needed to calm down, but she couldn’t with the voice in her head. She moved her hands to her cover her ears, but that did nothing at all. She couldn’t drown out the voice by herself.

“Hey, hey,” She heard a voice calling out to her, though it sounded distant, she clung to the voice, hoping it could save her. "Breathe, breathe, it's not as terrible as it seems. I think."

Jessica did just that, she breathed and slowly she became aware of her surroundings again. When she felt like the voice in her head could no longer reach her she lowered her hands back down.

"There you go, you good?" She looked over to see that the voice came from a dark skinned boy, no older than fifteen. 

Jessica could only say, "Am I good?" in disbelief that he would ask that, after witnessing her freak out.

"Right, dumb question. Anyway, I'm Connor. You?"

"Jessica." She mumbled out, just as the main thrusts roared to life, shaking any further words from her lips. 

It had really happened. For the first time in centuries, humans had left The Ark. Jessica quickly glanced around at the other passengers, they had all gone quiet. Call it a spontaneous moment of silence for the world they were leaving behind. 

But the solemnity didn't last long. For the next twenty minutes, the dropship was filled with the nervous, overexcited  chatter of a hundred teens, who until a few hours ago had never cared enough to even thing about going to Earth. 

"So Jessica, excited to not be locked up?" Connor asked the quiet girl next to him. 

As everyone noticed one of the kids one the other side of the first level of the dropship exit his safety belts and float through the ship. 

Jessica nodded slightly, as she ignored the cheers around the level. "Yeah, I mean I do wish that I was back on the Ark, and not heading to my death." Even if I do deserve it.

"It can't be that bad." Connor said. looking over as two more kids followed the space walker out of their harnesses. 

"Earth has been simmering in radiation for almost three hundred years, the atmosphere has probably been burnt away and little to zero oxygen is left on Earth. So we will either die as soon as the door is opened, due to the lack of oxygen and overdose of radiation, or we will be slowly die over a few days." Jessica said quickly, "Probably." She tacked on to the end, as to not sound like too much of a nerd or a masochist.

Connor looked at her in disbelief, he hadn't even thought of that. "I think I'd rather drop dead right away then spend a few days slowly dying."

The lower level of the dropship had a handful of windows, which had caught Jessica's attention, as they were filling with hazy grey clouds. The dropship jerked suddenly, and the cheers no longer sounded, all buzz of conversation gave way to gasps.

The three that were floating through the air dropped suddenly, Jessica couldn't see what had happened to them, and honestly she was more concerned with her own life than theirs right now. It's happening are you ready to die yet?

The voice was back, and the shaking increased, followed by a strange hum. Jessica's harness dug into her stomach as her body lurched from side to side, then up and down, and then side to side again. You should have taken off your harness, because who knows if you will survive with it, you would have surely died without it.

The hum had became a piercing wail, punctuated by a sickening crunch. With a glance at the windows, Jessica saw that they were cracking and no longer grey.

They were full of flames.

Jessica felt a grip on her hand. Connor had reached out and taken a hold of her hand. The dropship shook even harder, and with a roar, part of the wall tore off. Bits of white-hot metal began raining down. Jessica pulled her hand free of Connor's and raised her arms to protect her head, but she could still feel debris scorching her neck.

There was a deafening crash followed by a thud followed by a thud that sent ripples of pain through every bone in her body.

As suddenly as it began, it was all over.

Chapter Text

"Holy fucking shit!" Murphy gasped out as the dropship jerked suddenly, and all of the conversations around seceded into screams.

Lottie clenched her fists as the dropship shook with turbulence, causing her harness to dig into her stomach. She felt Murphy, of all people, put his hand over her fist and give her a quick squeeze. It was nice to know that at least she wasn't dying alone.

Any semblance of a moment was quickly ruined as a rancid odor filled Lottie's nose, causing her to gag. Looking up she realized that the small blonde girl that sat across from her had vomited. Lottie squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that it would all be over soon.

A piercing wail followed by a sickening crunch sounded as bits of white hot metal had begun to rain down on them. Lottie and Murphy seemed to crouch towards each other and in on themselves as they desperately tried to cover themselves from the hot metal bits that began to scorch their skin.

The dropship shook even harder, if that was even possible, and with a roar a part of the roof ripped off. There was a deafening crash followed by a thud that sent ripples of pain through every bone in her body.

And just like that it was all over. The cabin was dark and silent. Smoke billowed out of a hole where the control panel had been, and the air grew thick with the smell of melting metal, sweat, and blood.

After an exhale or two people seemed to realize that the dropship had most likely landed. With a quick look around, Lottie noticed that on the far side of the ship, near the hole in the ceiling that there are several empty seats. Lottie's heart sped up as she realized that some of the other kids must have been thrown from the ship.

Murphy had already left his seat and was making his way down to a lower level along with most of the other kids, at least the ones who weren't hurt in the crash. Unhooking her harness, Lottie shakily rose to her feet, holding on to her scorched seat for balance. She limped along with the rest of the kids, gritting her teeth as pain was shooting up her leg with every step.

Not that anyone could exit the dropship, it seemed that a family reunion between the Blake siblings was taking place right in front of the only way off the ship. It wasn't until Bellamy Blake in all his glory, guards uniform and all, pulled the lever to the dropship door, that the crowd was able to start moving. Octavia Blake was the first of them all on the ground, and with her yell of, "We're back, bitches." The floodgates were released and everyone made their way off of the ship.

Lottie's first image of earth was colors, not shapes. Stripes of blues, greens, and browns that were so vibrant that her brain couldn't process them. A gust of wind passed over her, making her skin tingle and flooding her nose with scents that Lottie couldn't identify.

At first, all she could make out were trees, hundreds of them. The ground seemed to stretch out in all directions ten times further than the longest deck back on the Ark. The amount of space was ridiculous, and Lottie suddenly felt light-headed, as though she might float away.

She became vaguely aware of voices behind her and turned to see a dark skinned guy, Nathan Miller. "It's beautiful." He said as he reached down and ran his trembling hand along the shiny green blades of grass.

A short, stocky girl, Zoe Monroe, took a few shaky steps forward. The gravitational pull on the Ark was meant to mimic Earth's, but faced with the real thing it was clear that they hadn't gotten it quite right. "Everything's fine," Monroe said, her voice a mixture of relief and confusion. "We could've come back ages ago."

Lottie saw Clarke Griffin, someone that she had known before the Skybox, stalk over to the group. "You don't know that," Clarke shot off. "Just because we can breathe now, doesn't mean that the air isn't toxic." Clark faced Monroe and held her wrist up, gesturing to the silver bracelet. "We weren't given these for jewelry. They want to see what happens to us."

A smaller girl named Charlotte hovering next to the dropship whimpered as she pulled her jacket up over her mouth. "You can breathe normally," Clarke told her.

Lottie wasn't sure how much that was true, there was no way to tell how much radiation was still in the atmosphere. All they could do was wait and hope.

Back on the Ark, before Lottie had been locked up in the Skybox, she had been going someplace. At fifteen she had been shortlisted into a nurse training program, that was where she had met Clarke. Clarke was there to get her basics down before getting put into the doctorate training.

The two girls hadn't been close, in fact the only ever talked if necessary, Lottie wasn't from Alpha Station, no she was a poorer girl from Tesla Station, and Clarke really only talked with people from Alpha Station. Clarke only really talked to Lottie during their Earth Skills training, which also happened to be the only time Clarke was let out of solitary.

Of course, now that they were on the ground it seemed that Clarke had decided that Lottie was to be one of her second in command. Meaning that since Lottie had medical knowledge and a good, good-ish, head on her shoulders Lottie got to try and get some of the injured kids taken care of while Clarke worked out how to find this mystical Mount Weather.

Only two kids had died in the landing, the two that had stupidly followed Finn out of their harnesses, and there weren't many serious injuries, but there were enough to keep Lottie busy. For nearly an hour, she used torn shirt sleeves and pant legs as makeshift tourniquets, and ordered a few people with broken bones to lie still till she could find a way to fashion splints. their supplies were scattered across the grass, but although she had sent multiple people to search for the medicine chest, it hadn't been recovered.

The battered dropship was at the short end of the L- shaped clearing and for the first fifteen minutes, the passengers had clustered around the smoking wreckage, too scared and stunned to move more than a few shaky steps. But now they had started milling around. Lottie hadn't seen Jessica, so she guessed that the younger girl hadn't been hurt on re-entry, but she would find her later and make sure that she really was okay.

Lottie had set up the med-station just inside the dropship on the first level. Clark had suggested it, and Clarke was the closest thing that they had to an actual doctor so Lottie listened. Plus she was able to sort together a makeshift surgery table that she could work on really injured kids on. The fact that she, a half-trained, seventeen-year-old nurse, was working on injured kids would have been laughable, if their health and life hadn't been thrusted into her hands while Clarke was busy looking at a dumb map.

Murphy had been one of the first people that she had sent off to try and find some medical supplies. It was suffice to say that he had met up with some of his friends from the Skybox, or maybe even from Tesla Station. But either way he had ditched her and wouldn't be back.

Murphy's voice rang out, as annoying as ever, drawing Lottie's attention from the dropship. "Hey hands off. He's with us."

At the sound of Murphy undoubtedly about to find himself in a shitload of trouble, she decided to head out and see exactly what he had got himself into. Walking onto the dropship's lowered door, she saw Clarke standing over the dumb Mount Weather map, Well Jaha facing off with Murphy, Jasper Jordan and Monty Green over to the side of the fight looking shook as hell, and a crowd for delinquents forming around them.

Wells Jaha, the most hated member of the hundred, put his hands up as the group of boys that Murphy had befriended moved in closer on Wells. "Relax, we are just trying to figure out where we are."

Bellamy and Octavia Black had made their way to the front of the crowd, led more by Octavia, who really just wanted to be in the middle of everything.

"We're on the ground, is that not good enough for you?" Bellamy said.

"We need to find Mount Weather." Wells looked like he was getting irritated as hell, as he turned to face the ever forming crowd. "You heard my father's message, that has to be our first priority."

Bellamy and Wells seemed to get along like gasoline to fire, and Lottie couldn't wait to watch it burn.

"Screw your father. You think that you're in charge here, you and your little Princess?" Octavia asked with hatred sounding in her voice.

Lottie moved over to Murphy's group, as Clarke and Wells moved their attention over towards Octavia, Bellamy, and the rest of the hundred. "You really have never laid low in your entire life have you?"

All Murphy could think of to respond with was a rough laugh.

Clarke was getting fed up more and more by the minute. "Do you think we care who's  in charge here we need to find Mount Weather. Not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we will get, and the harder it will be. How long do you think we will last without those supplies?"

Lottie had to hand it to Clarke, she really knew how to give a speech. Clarke wasn't stopping, "We are looking at a 20 mile trek, okay? So, if we want to get there before dark we need to leave... now."

Bellamy interrupted, "I got an idea how about you two go. Find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change."

Cheers and sounds of approval go around the crowd, Lottie joins in the cheer as well. She always learned it was best to follow the course and just go with everyone else. She wasn't like Clarke.

"You aren't listening. We all need to go!" Wells spoke with a raised voice before he was interrupted, and pushed roughly.

Of course Murphy would feel the need to get in the middle of things. "Look at this, everybody. Chancellor of the Earth."

Wells rounded on Murphy, "You think that's funny?"

Without even a pause, Murphy's leg swept Wells to the ground. Lottie quickly moved forward to grab onto Clarke, as Clark called out to Wells. Lottie didn't need Clarke getting into a fight with Murphy. The crowd circled around, ready to watch Wells get the shit beat out of him.

"No, but that was." Murphy circled Wells.

Wells managed to stumble back to his feet, with an obvious limp. Something that Lottie was going to have to deal with after the fight, Lottie let out a sigh as she tightened her arms around Clarke, keeping her in place.

"Alright, come on." Murphy baited, but before the fight could really get started, Finn the spacewalker jumped down from nowhere, and into the middle of the fight.

Lottie had let go of Clarke in shock, but everyone else was in shock too. Clarke didn’t even try to move towards the fight.

"Kid's got one leg. How about you wait till it's a fair fight?" Lottie moved to grab a hold of Murphy's arm and drag him back to his friends, as Octavia walks up to Finn, the crowd watching, 

"Hey spacewalker, rescue me next." While Octavia managed to disperse all the tension and get a laugh out of the crowd, Murphy had angrily stormed off with his friends following along behind him. 

Lottie just let out a soft, "Really," at the boy and shook her head before moving back towards the dropship.

Chapter Text

While Clarke had put Lottie in charge while she was gone, at least of the injured, and of keeping Wells in line, Bellamy had named Murphy his second, and neither Murphy nor Lottie knew if it was a blessing or a curse.

Murphy and his friend Mbege had been making their way around the camp removing the wristbands of those willing, thanks to the orders of Bellamy. Murphy knew that Lottie wouldn't remove her wristband mainly just to spite Murphy, so he had pushed her back inside the dropship with the promise of leaving her alone. It worked.

Lottie herself had even made a friend, a leggy brunette named Roma, who Lottie had discovered was fairly good at scavenging. So Roma, who talked way more than Lottie had hoped, was sent to go find supplies for Lottie to start making splints with.

Splints for broken bones were all she had left to deal with, and she really had saved the hardest for last. Lottie wished Clarke was here for the splints.

Lottie wasn't that good with splints. Not like Clarke was at least, and if Lottie had her way Clarke would have been the one to stay at the dropship and take care of all the injuries instead of playing leader.

The dull grey walls of the dropship were easy on Lottie’s eyes, they reminded her of the Ark. The only bits of color were where some of the boys had hung up part of the orange parachute over the door.

“I see you didn’t head with the others to Mount Weather.” Wells Jaha’s annoying voice interrupted her mindless thinking as he pushed his way through the curtain and into the dropship.

Lottie glanced over at the boy as he limped into the dropship. "Yeah well, Princess Clark all but demanded I stay and take care of the landing injuries."

Wells ignored her comment about Clarke, but continued on. "What about non landing injuries?"

"Get up here and I'll take a look." Lottie said, patting at her makeshift examination table, having Wells lift himself up onto it.

“You know that you have a massive target on your back, right?” Lottie spoke after a beat of silence.

“Because I’m Privileged.” Wells retorted in a mocking tone, but also in a voice that was akin to Murphey’s.

Lottie rotated his ankle making the boy flinch, “No. Because your dad was the one who put every kid here, and those kids can’t take their feelings out on your dad, but you? You’re fair game.” Lottie grabbed some of the extra cloth that Roma had found her and began wrapping his ankle into a better position. “You need to stand up for yourself and fight back, because if you don't these dumbasses will see you as weak. Honestly at this rate, you may as well me dead by the end of the week. Now stay off that ankle, and get out of my dropship.”

Jessica shivered in the late afternoon chill. In the few hours since they had landed, the air had grown colder. She moved closer to the bonfire, it was warm. Jessica had never been this close to a real fire, most kids hadn’t. Most people on the Ark didn’t even know how to even start a fire. Jessica wasn’t sure who had started the fire, but she was sure that she probably wouldn’t have known who they were if she did.

One person that she actually knew of was, John Murphy, he was one of the people that Lottie would talk to on occasion. Murphy was seated next to Jessica, although he had paid her no attention, he was more preoccupied with the large crowd that was forming around him. It made her anxious just to be sitting next to the boy, mainly because of the type of crowd that he drew, and as with every wristband that he would pop off someone's wrist and toss into the fire, his crowd of onlookers would cheer, causing Jessica to shrink even more into herself.

Connor had sat himself on Jessica’s other side, having stuck close to the quiet girl since the landing. She had been zoned out for a bit, just staring at Connor’s wristband. She was kind of curious about how he felt about them, as while he was still wearing his, he was cheering with the rest of the crowd, but Jessica couldn’t bring herself to ask. She was never really one to start conversations, nor speak up about anything really.

Soon enough Jessica was pulled out of her head as she heard the cheers that had surrounded them turn into grumbling as Wells Jaha crashed everyone’s bonfire party.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing” Wells yelled out, mainly towards Murphy, of course it also made Jessica feel as though he was yelling at her, causing her to shrink into Connor. Connor threw his arm around her shoulder, as Wells killed the crowd’s buzz. Jessica, herself wasn’t having much fun to begin with, but the fun that everyone else was having seemed to simmer out as Mbege moved towards Wells.

“We’re liberating ourselves. What does it look like?” Bellamy Blake, the gunman from the dropship had been standing towards the back of the crowd, just watching the fire, said in a soft yet strong voice, as he moved to pull Mbege back.

“Oh, this will be good.” Connor said, as he shot Jessica a look that she couldn’t decipher. Was Conner being sarcastic, or serious. It was hard for her to tell with him sometimes. Maybe that’s why Jessica had stuck with him, because Connor was a lot like Lottie in that aspect, and it was familiar to her.

As for Lottie, Jessica saw her old cell mate coming up behind Wells, not that she stood close enough for anyone to think that she was on the boy’s side.

Of course Lottie would be in the middle of things, she was important, unlike Jessica. Lottie knew Clarke and Murphy, she would probably be a swing vote later down the road when the group’s politics started to settle.

Wells stared at Bellamy dumbly for two beats, before he moved back to the crowd. “It looked like you’re trying to get us all killed. The communication system is dead. These wristbands are all we’ve got. Take them off and the Ark will think that we are dying, that it’s not safe for them to follow.”

Jessica shook her head at what Wells was saying. The voices that had been quiet for hours were trying to be heard again. Take off the wristband, if you won't actually die, do the next best thing.

“That’s the point, Chancellor. We can take care of ourselves,” The crowd around Jessica seemed to be buzzing. Bellamy was amazing with giving speeches, she would give him that. “Can’t we?” He yelled out the last part at the crowd, he had a gift for engaging the crowd more effectively that Wells could’ve ever hoped to. Wells, it seemed, never stood a chance.

Connor, not one to be left out, yelled, “Yeah!” causing some of the other kids around him to follow his lead. Jessica as well yelled out, abet quieter than everyone else, but enough to fit in with the crowd. Not because she agreed, but because it was always easier to go along with the crowd.

“You think this is a game. Those aren’t just our friends and parents up there. Those are our farmers, our doctors, our engineers..” Jessica had a front row seat to the fight of the day, and she felt that she would rather be anywhere else than just across the fire from all the action. She could see Wells trying his best to win a failing argument, and Lottie who was waiting for the moment that someone would dive at Wells, so that she could pull him out of the way. Earlier Jessica had seen Lottie hanging around the dropship, taking care of the injured members of the 100, it was a relief for Jessica to see her, she kind of missed the girl’s snarky attitude.

Lottie didn’t really care about whether or not anyone else wanted to take off their wristbands, that was their decision, not anyone else's. She was just getting tired of babysitting Wells all day, she had spent most of the day trying to get Wells to leave her alone, and now she had to listen to him go off on the entire camp. She glanced around the fire with a look of annoyance, catching Bellamy’s eye, and sharing a look. At least Bellamy and her held the same sentiment.

Wells continued on, with no care that none of the crowd was on his side. “...I don’t care what he tells you. We won’t survive here on our own. Besides if it really is safe, how could you not want the rest of our people to come down.”

"My people already are down. Those people locked my people up. Those people killed my mother for the crime of having a second child. Your father did that." Bellamy said, stepping closer to Wells, as the argument got more personal.

Lottie could see Wells was visibly tensing at the mention of his father. Not that she cared enough to comfort him about it. “My father didn’t write the laws.”

“No he just enforced them, but not anymore, not here, here there are no laws.” Bellamy said, causing more yells to be heard as the crowd took in the words being said.

Wells was looking around him at the crowd that had become entranced with the words that Bellamy had spoken, making the boy to become more and more nervous. “Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want.”

Lottie looked around the fire at the crowd as cheers sounded out, it was crazy to see such a massive amount of people practically vibrating with energy, Lottie’s eyes locked onto Jessica who sat locked in a embrace of a young black boy, with her eyes squeezed shut and worry lines etched onto her face, Lottie would have to remember to talk to Jessica at some point soon.

"You don't have to like it Wells, you can even try to stop it or change it, kill me. You know why. Whatever the hell we want."

"Whatever the hell we want!" Murphy yelled, moving closer to the middle of the crowd, and raised his hands up. Around him the crowd joined in, echoing the words, “Whatever the hell we want!” It was loud and jostling as the crowd moved into a mob-like mentality. Lottie turned away from the scene before her to head back to the quiet of the dropship before she froze.

Something cold and wet hit Lottie on her nose. Water? She brought her hand up to whip it away. Rain? It started out slow and soft, and then all at once rain began to come down, not too hard, but enough for everyone to figure out what exactly it was. It was the first rain that any humans had ever witnessed in close to three centuries, and as Lottie turned back to go towards the dropship, she reached out her arms and did a childlike spin for the first time in what felt like forever.

Lottie squinted up at the sunrise. She’d always thought that those ancient poets had been full of shit, or at least on better drugs than she’d ever tried. But, they were right. It was crazy to watch the sky go from black to gray and then explode into streaks of color. It didn’t make her want to break out in song or anything, but then again, Lottie had never been the artistic type.

Although it did seem like some of the other kids around camp were though, there was a whole group that had been drumming away all morning, it was honestly quite annoying.

Lottie had spent the night in the dropship, Roma had managed to find her a blanket, of course the leggy girl didn’t stay in the dropship with her. One wink from Bellamy Blake and Roma was off towards his tent in no time.

The scream echoed through the camp, startling Lottie out of her thoughts. She jumped up from her spot against the dropship and looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. That’s when she saw him. Murphy, standing by the firepit with a girl in his grasp.

Lottie’s heart raced as she watched in horror as Murphy held the girl over the flames. She could see the fear in the girl’s eyes and it made her blood boil. What kind of idiotic move was Murphey planning on doing now, besides the blatant assault?

“Bellamy, look,” Murphy called out, “we want the Ark to think that the ground is killing us right? Figured it was better if we suffered a bit first.”

Lottie felt herself cringe as she watched Murphy’s twisted plan unfold. But before she could even process what was happening, Wells suddenly appeared next to her. He had clearly heard Murphy’s words too and he didn’t look happy.

Without hesitation, Wells charged towards Murphy and tackled him to the ground. The two boys grappled on the ground while Lottie stood frozen in shock.

Wells managed to knock Murphy over and get on top of him, pinning him down with all his strength. “You can stop this,” he yelled at Bellamy.

But Bellamy just laughed, “Stop this? I'm just getting started.”

Lottie couldn’t believe what she was seeing. How could Bellamy be so dumb? Giving Murphey free reign over these teens wouldn't end up well for anyone. She watched as the other kids in the camp started chanting and cheering them on, urging them to fight.

Wells was holding his own against Murphy, landing a few good punches before Murphy got a solid hit in and knocked Wells off of him. As Wells struggled to get back up, Murphy pulled out a knife from his belt and held it menacingly towards Wells.

Lottie couldn’t hold back a roll of her eyes as Murphy pulled out a knife, ready to strike at Wells. She could always count on Murphy to jump head first into a fight.

Bellamy's voice cut out over the chaos, "Wait," the crowd that had formed seemed to part around him as he made his way closer to the fight, "Fair fight." he said, holding a knife out towards them, tossing the knife onto the ground between the two boys.

Wells hesitated for a moment before picking up the knife. He looked uncertain and scared, but also determined.

Murphy charged at him again, shouting “This is for my father!” But this time, Wells was ready. He dodged Murphy’s blow and quickly gained the upper hand.

Lottie watched in awe as Wells landed hit after hit on Murphy, who seemed like he didn’t stand a chance against his opponent’s anger and determination.

“You think you’re better than everyone else,” Wells yelled as he continued to pummel Murphy. “But you’re nothing but a coward!”

Bellamy looked on with an unreadable expression on his face. Lottie couldn’t tell if he felt any remorse for starting this whole fight or if he was secretly enjoying it.

"Let him go!" A loud yell echoed over the crowd, as the fight suddenly came to an end with Wells, holding a pathetic looking Murphey, with a look of triumph. Wells hesitated for a moment before tossing Murphy to the ground, Lottie and Bellamy quickly moved in to grab Murphy and pull him away from Wells, each of the grabbing a side, as Murphey threw an arm over the girl, to get a better sense of gravity.

As they did so, Monty entered the camp behind Clark and Finn carrying Octavia in his arms. Bellamy rushed over to her, leaving Lottie to deal with Murphey, panic evident on his face. "Octavia, are you alright?" he asked frantically.

"Yeah," Octavia replied weakly. She had a few bruises and scrapes but otherwise seemed relatively unharmed.

Bellamy pulled her into a tight hug before turning back to face Clarke and Finn. "What happened? Where's the food?" he demanded.

Clarke's expression darkened as she responded, "We didn't make it to Mount Weather."

Bellamy's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "What the hell happened out there?" he asked again, his voice rising in anger.

"We were attacked," Clarke explained.

Wells scoffed at this information. "Attacked by what?"

"Not by what, by who." Finn replied.

Lottie watched as everyone gathered around Clarke and Finn, eager to hear more about the mysterious attackers. She couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her as she listened to their conversation.

"So who are these people?" Bellamy asked, his voice laced with anger and suspicion.

"We don't know for sure," Clarke replied.

Wells scoffed again. "That's ridiculous. There's no one on the ground except us."

"It's true," Finn chimed in. "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong. There are people here, survivors."

Lottie's mind raced as she tried to process this new information. Survivors? How was that even possible? They had been told that the Earth was uninhabitable after the nuclear apocalypse.

"The good news is that it means we can survive here," Clarke continued, trying to inject some hope into their dire situation. "Radiation won't kill us."

Bellamy's expression softened slightly at this news, but he still looked skeptical. "And what's the bad news?" he asked.

Clarke hesitated before responding, "The grounders will." The group fell silent at this revelation and Lottie felt a chill run down her spine.

"What do they want from us?" Octavia spoke up for the first time since being brought back to camp.

"We don't know yet," Finn admitted. "But if they were willing to attack us just for being here, then they must be desperate."

"We need to be careful," Bellamy said firmly. "We can't trust anyone out here."

Lottie felt a pang of sadness at his words. Was it really going to be like this? Constantly living in fear and suspicion?

"Where's the kid with the goggles?"

"They took him."

"Where did they take him?" Bellamy demanded, turning to face Clarke.

"We don't know for sure," she replied, her expression mirroring his own frustration.

Without hesitation, Bellamy turned to Clark. "Is he dead," he said firmly.

"We don't know," she offered.

Clarke's heart sank as she looked at Wells' bare wrist. "Where is your wristband?" she asked, her voice trembling with fear and anger.

Wells pulled away from Clarke's grasp and gestured towards Murphy, who was still in Lottie's grasp. "Ask him," he said bitterly.

Clarke turned to Bellamy, who had a grim expression on his face. "How many?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Murphy spoke up, his voice full of malice. "Twenty-four and counting," he replied, a cruel smirk spreading across his face, as he pulled away from Lottie.

Lottie let him go, moving over to check on Octavia. She slung her arm around the younger girl, taking her away from the commotion that seemed to follow around every friend, Lottie had made so far.

They moved into a secluded corner of the dropship, away from the rest of the group. Lottie had managed to scavenge some basic medical supplies from the dropship, but they were running low and she knew they needed to find more soon.

"How does that feel?" Lottie asked, her attention on wrapping the gash that Octavia had received. She grimaced as she saw how deep it was, but tried to keep a calm demeanor for Octavia's sake.

"Better." Octavia replied, wiping her nose with her hand, unintentionally smearing blood from the cut on her face. Lottie really wished that she could find real bandages and antiseptic. They were all being exposed to germs that their bodies had never encountered, and the risk of infection was high.

"Thanks," Octavia said with a small smile.

"Don't thank me yet," Lottie replied with a wry grin. "We still need to find more supplies."

Octavia's smile faded as she looked around at their surroundings. The makeshift camp consisted of tents made out of tarps tied together and a small fire pit in the center where Bellamy and Murphy were still fighting with Clark and Finn.

"How are we going to survive out here?" Octavia asked, her voice filled with worry.

Lottie took a deep breath before responding. "We have no other choice," she said firmly. "We need to stick together and do whatever it takes to survive."

Octavia nodded, but Lottie could see the fear in her eyes. They were all just teenagers trying to navigate this dangerous new world without any guidance or experience.

"We'll figure it out," Lottie reassured her, even though she wasn't entirely convinced herself.

"How is she doing?" Lottie asked Bellamy, as they sat by the opening of the dropship, later in the evening.

Bellamy turned to look at Lottie, watching her as she looked over at Octavia's sleeping form. He knew that Lottie had been worried about Octavia, but he also knew that she was a skilled medic and would do whatever it takes to keep their group alive.

"She's doing okay," he replied with a small smile. "Thanks to you."

Lottie let out a relieved breath and lifted an eyebrow at Bellamy. "Because it would really suck if you followed through on your threat from before."

Bellamy's smile faded as he remembered his words. "What did I say?"

"You told me that if I didn't save your sister that you would blow up the goddamn planet and everyone on it," Lottie reminded him with a smirk, and rolled her eyes, but then she turned back to Octavia and the playfulness drained from her face. “What is it?” Bellamy looked from Lottie to his sister. “Nothing,” She said quickly. “I just wish I had some antiseptic for that cut on her face. And some of the others are going to need antibiotics.”

“So we don’t have any medicine?” Bellamy asked, frowning in concern.

She looked at him, startled. “I think the medical supplies kits were thrown out of the dropship in the crash. We’ll be fine, though,” she said quickly, the lie shooting out of her mouth before she had time to make her features match it. “We’ll be okay for a while. The human body has a remarkable ability to heal itself.…”

Chapter Text

The flap to the dropship flew open, as Bellamy strolled in, his hands full each with a canister of water. "Good morning ladies." His eyes bright and an easy grin on his face as he made his way over to Octavia's makeshift cot.

"Oh thanks, Bell." The younger girl said, sitting up and grabbing on of the waters out of her brothers hand and taking a quick sip.

He gave her hair a quick ruffle, before turning to Lottie, "Here." He held the second container towards her. He was close enough that Lottie couldn't help but notice the faint smell of sweat clinging to his skin, blending in with another sent that she couldn't identify, but one that reminded her of the scent of trees. "How’s the leg?" he asked Octavia, making an exaggerated show of squinting and examining it from all angles.

"Much better." Octavia flexed it gingerly, as Bellamy moved to sit on the ground next to his sister.

It was dark still inside the dropship, a ridiculous time of morning, Lottie noted off-handedly as she took a sip of the water. The sloppy stiches that she had given Octavia this morning were still holding up.

Bellamy had woken her up a few hours after she had tried to lay down last night, and shoved a busted looking canister at her. It had been filled with real bandages, and a bit of surgical thread. It held, but there wasn't going to be much she could do if they didn't find the actual medical chest. It still hadn't turned up in the wreckage, and most likely it had been thrown from the dropship during the crash and destroyed. The small amount of peace they had was disturbed by Clarke barging in the dropship, with Wells following along behind her like a lost puppy.

Murphey and Adam, another on of Bellamy's goons, had been hanging out, just outside the doors, and as such seemed to come in sensing Clarke's need for chaos.

"Hey, you feeling better?" Clarke asked Octavia, grimacing at Lottie's sad excuse for stiches. Lottie didn't really have a steady hand for stiches. Clarke would have done it herself, if she wasn't  as preoccupied with getting ready to head back out after Jasper.

"Yeah, are you guys leaving? I'm coming too." Octavia said hurriedly, moving to stand.

"No way, not again." Bellamy cut in, moving Octavia back into a sitting position. 

Octavia sighed, then stuck her bottom lip out in a pleading expression. "Please, I didn't come all the way to Earth, just to sit in the dropship."

"You don't have a choice." Bellamy said, standing up. "But I certainly didn't risk my ass coming here, just to watch you get gangrene." 

"How do you know about gangrene?" Lottie asked actually surprised. No one would have ever developed that kind of infection back on the Ark, and she doubted that he was the type to read ancient medical texts for fun.

"No, he's right." Clarke butted back into the conversation, cutting off whatever answer Bellamy had been brewing. "Your leg is only going to slow us down." Clarke said, before turning to Bellamy with a pointed look, "I'm here for you."

Wells leaned in, eager to insert himself into Clarke's conversation. But when he opened his mouth to speak, she simply turned away and continued discussing business with the others without acknowledging him. He felt a twinge of frustration at being ignored yet again.

"I hear you have a gun." She said pointedly.

With a roll of her eyes, Bellamy turned towards Clarke and away from his sister, before grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt and lifting it high enough to show a sliver of tanned skin and the dull black handle of a gun. One of the ones that the guards back on the Ark had access to.

Lottie twisted her head to get a better look, whether at the expanse of skin, or at the gun, she couldn't tell you.

Clarke's voice cut through the tense silence. "Good, then follow me."

Bellamy's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "And why would I do that?"

A calculating look crossed Clarke's face as she tilted her head towards the opening of the dropship, indicating the rest of the hundred waiting outside. "Because you want them to follow you? And right now, they think one of us is scared."

The corners of Bellamy's mouth twitched, considering her words before he rolled his eyes and turned to his two loyal followers.

"Murphy, you're with me. Adam, my sister stays here at camp. Is that clear?"

Octavia's lower lip jutted out in a pout, revealing her youth and vulnerability despite her attempts to project strength and independence. "I don't need a babysitter."

Ignoring his sister's protests, Bellamy turned to Adam with a serious expression. "If anyone lays a hand on her, they answer to me."

Octavia's tone changed suddenly, pleading with her brother. "Don't leave me," she said, her fear of confined spaces creeping into her voice. "You know how I feel about being trapped inside." A flicker of emotion passed over Bellamy's face at his sister's words, and Lottie couldn't help but wonder what memories were swirling behind his steely gaze.

"It'll be fine," Bellamy reassured Octavia, pulling away from her and striding towards the entrance flap. "Let's go!"

A twig snapped not far from Jessica and Connor, causing the two of them to whip their heads towards the source. They saw a young girl with a narrow face and stringy hair.

"Can I help you?" Connor said with a huff.

"Bellamy said that everyone who's not hurt should collect some wood, while they are gone." The younger girl replied, fiddling with her hands.

A thread of irritation coiled around Connor's stomach, and he gave the girl a tight smile. "I'm pretty sure that he actually said that we can do, 'Whatever the hell we want'."

The girl shifted uneasily, before throwing a anxious look over her shoulder. 

"Off you go." Connor said, motioning  her away with his hands, he watched her scurry off with satisfaction. 

Look at how rude he is to that girl. He wants to say that to you as well. Jessica shook her head, trying to shake away her thoughts. She had been doing well since being sent to Earth, it was an amazing place to keep herself distracted.

It was crazy how much their surroundings could change through the day. In the mornings, everything felt crisp and new. Even the air had a sharpness to it. Yet, in the afternoon, the light mellowed and the color softened. It was as stark contrast to most of the personalities that she had encountered. Most members of the hundred fell into one of two categories, scared doormats (like herself) or rude brats (like Connor or Lottie). She didn't mean that as an insult, it was more of an observation.

The sound of laughter, drew her out of her thoughts. From the other side of the clearing, Jessica turned to see two girls perched on a low tree branch, giggling as they swatted at the boy that was trying to climb up and join them. Nearby a bunch of  Factory Station boys were playing a game of keep-away with a 14 year-old-girl's shoe, the owner of witch was a laughing as she skidded barefoot across the grass.

Jessica tore open one of the crumpled nutrition packet, and squeezed half of the contents into her mouth, then slipped the carefully folded wrapper back into her pocket. After sorting through the remainder of the wreckage, they'd discovered  what they'd all feared: The few weeks worth of rations that they had found when they first landed was all that they  had been seen to Earth with. Either the council had assumed that the hundred would figure out how to find mount weather in less than a month... or they didn't plan on them surviving that long.  Bellamy and his goons had strong armed most people into handing over any packs they had salvaged and had supposedly put an Alpha Station kid named Miller in charge of distributing them, but there was already an fledging black market: people were trading nutrition packs for blankets and taking on extra water shifts in exchange for reserved spots inside the crowded tents. Lottie and Clarke had claimed the bottom floor  of the dropship as their infirmary, so only the injured people could crash there. While Murphy and co had claimed the upper floors.

Jessica looked up at the star filled sky. She never imagined how homesick it would make her to stare at the familiar scene from hundreds of kilometers away. It was unsettling to see the moon so tiny and feature less, like waking up to find that your families faces had been erased. Sitting at the campfire, others were grumbling around her. They had been on Earth for less than a week, and their rations were already dwindling. The fact that they had no medicine was troubling, but right now the biggest concern was the food supply. Either the Ark had miscalculated their provisions, or Bellamy's goons had been hoarding more than anyone realized. Either way, the efforts were already beginning to show. It wasn't just the hallows beginning to form under their cheekbones- there was a hunger in the kids eyes that terrified Jessica. She couldn't let herself forget that they had all been arrested for a reason. Everyone around her had done something to endanger the Ark, Jessica most of all.

Chapter Text

A strange noise came from the trees. Connor sat up straighter, all his senses on the alert. There was a cracking sound, followed by a rustling. The murmurs by the fire turned to gasps as the group that had went out for Jasper, the kid with goggles, had came back. Clarke came through the tree line first, followed by Wells and Finn, carrying Jasper between he two of them. 

Clarke and the boys trailing behind her headed for the dropship, "I need boiled water, strips of cloth, and some bandages." She called out, Lottie who had been sitting out by the fire jumped up and seemed to get back into work mode quickly.

Bellamy and Murphy stood with an animal carcass draped over their shoulders, a trail of blood in their wake. A panther. Connor’s eyes traveled over the lifeless animal, taking in its dark black fur, spindly legs, and pointy ears. Connor froze as everyone around the fire scrambled to their feet, some of them inching forward for a better look, others backing up in terror. 

“Is it safe?” Jessica asked. 

“It’s safe.” Octavia’s voice came from the shadows, and then she stepped into the light. “If the radiation had mutated the genetic material hundreds of years ago, there wouldn’t be any trace of it now.” 

Everyone fell silent as Octavia stretched out her hand to stroke the creature’s fur. Octavia turned to Bellamy with a smile, “We’re not going to starve.” 

Then she said something Connor couldn’t hear, and Bellamy nodded. "Who's hungry!" Bellamy yelled out, gathering everyone's attention.

The smell of the roasting jaguar was foreign and intoxicating. There was no meat on the Ark, not even on Alpha Station. All the livestock had been eliminated in the middle of the first century. 

A little girl named Charlotte, her face dirty and her clothes tattered, approached Bellamy with wide eyes. "How do we know when it's done?" she asked, her stomach growling in anticipation.

"When the outside starts to crisp and the inside turns pink," Bellamy replied without turning his head, his focus still on rotating the spit above the fire.

Murphy snorted in disbelief, but Connor nodded in agreement. "I think you're right," he said.

After what felt like hours, the meat finally cooled enough for them to handle. Using sharp rocks as knives, they chopped the jaguar into smaller pieces and began passing them around the fire. Those who had taken off their wristbands - a symbol of their banishment from society - eagerly reached out for a taste of rare meat. Even Connor, who had taken his off earlier to escape water duty, couldn't resist indulging in this small luxury. The rich flavor exploded in his mouth, bringing a sense of primal satisfaction amidst their harsh existence on Earth.

As Connor walked across the circle, balancing a plate of steaming meat skewers in one hand and a cold beer in the other, Jessica's eyes followed him. She eagerly reached out for a skewer when he arrived at her side, holding it up to her mouth as she took a bite.

"Have you tried it yet?" she asked with a teasing grin.

Connor shook his head and chuckled. "Not yet," he replied, knowing he was in for it now.

"Well, that's not fair," Jessica pouted playfully. "What if it turns out to be disgusting?"

Connor glanced around the circle at their friends who were all happily munching on their own skewers. He shrugged and grinned at Jessica. "Everyone else seems to be okay with it."

But Jessica wasn't convinced. She pursed her lips together and looked at him hesitantly. After a moment, she smiled and pushed her skewer towards him. "Here, you take the first bite and tell me what you think," she said with a challenge in her voice.

"I'm okay, thanks," Connor replied, trying to decline politely. But Jessica was determined and giggled as she tried to sneak the meat into his mouth.

"Come on," she urged, "take a bite."

“Okay,” he said, taking the piece of meat from her hands. She looked disappointed not to feed it to him, but Connor didn’t care. 

He took a bite. The outside was tough, but as his teeth sank in, the meat released a flood of flavor unlike anything he had tasted before, simultaneously salty and smoky and faintly sweet. He chewed some more and then swallowed, bracing for his stomach to reject the alien substance. But all he felt was warmth. 

The children who had eaten their fill were now rising from the warmth of the campfire, their faces flushed with contentment. The crackling of the flames mingled with their soft chatter, creating a harmonious symphony in the clearing. But amidst the calm, a murmur of confusion began to spread, sending shivers down Connor's spine.

He stood up and walked over to where a small group had gathered near the edge of the forest. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to make sense of the growing commotion.

"Look," one of the girls pointed into the darkness.

Connor squinted, struggling to see through the thick curtain of night. "What am I looking for?"

"There," another girl exclaimed, pointing again. "Did you see it?"

At first, he thought they were pulling a prank on him, but then he caught a flicker of movement. A flash of light so fleeting that he almost dismissed it as his imagination. But then there was another, and another, like stars bursting into existence within the trees. He took a step closer to the treeline, transfixed by the dazzling display that seemed to have no explanation. The clearing was now aglow with ethereal lights, as if invisible hands had strung them up for a mystical celebration. His gaze landed on the closest orb - a glowing ball suspended from a low-hanging branch - and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

There was something moving inside. A creature. It was some sort of insect, with a tiny body and disproportionately large, delicate wings. The word fluttered to Connor’s lips. Butterfly. Some of the others had followed him into the forest and were now staring in wonder alongside him.

Jessica stood a few feet away from him, utterly transfixed. A soft glow lit up her face, and the tense, worried expression that had clung to her features since the crash had fallen away.

Murphy wasn't all bad, sure he might have been annoying at time, but at least he had came into the dropship with food in hand. He had brought enough for Lottie, and her patients. 

"Figured you hadn't ate yet." he said with a laugh.

"Nope." she said, pulling a stick of jaguar meat out of his hands, "But thanks I guess."

"No take them all," he said, handing over five or six things of meat. "I don't really want to stick around to pass them out. Bellamy said that they were only for those without wristbands." 

Lottie rolled her eyes, "Of course he did." she had mover over to the cot by Jasper and handed one to Monty who sat by him, busy with a wristband in his lap. "Get out of here before he finds out then."

Murphy turned to leave, but he stopped short and twisted to look back over his shoulder. “Oh, by the way, Cupcake, I found some debris from the crash when we were out in the woods. Any interest in checking it out tomorrow?” 

Lottie inhaled as her heart sped up. “You think it could be the missing supplies?” She took a step forward. “Let’s go now.” 

He shook his head. “It was too far away. We wouldn’t make it back before dark. We’ll go tomorrow.” 

She glanced at Jasper, whose face was still contorted in pain. “Okay. First thing in the morning.” 

“Let’s wait until the afternoon. We are supposed to go hunting in the morning. That’s when the animals are out looking for water.” Lottie suppressed the urge to ask him where he’d learned that, although she couldn’t quite mask the surprise on her face. 

“Until tomorrow, then?” He asked, and Lottie nodded. “Great.” He grinned. “It’s a date.” She watched them lumber out of the tent, then went back over to Jasper. 

Lottie hurried over and knelt beside the boy. When Clarke had tried to pull out the poultice that was in his chest, blood had quickly started pouring from the wound by his ribs. Jasper was breathing, but his gasps were still labored and shallow. 

Jasper was still asleep, and the newest bandage seemed to be holding up. Lottie had already changed the wrappings three times since they’d found Jasper and brought him back. The memory of stitching up the wound made Lottie’s stomach churn, and she hoped that the boy remembered even less. Jasper had passed out from the pain and had been fading in and out of consciousness ever since. 

"Think I'm gonna change it again," Lottie said, nodding towards Monty, as she handed him the rest of the food. Lottie pulled back the bandage, trying to keep her face neutral as she unwrapped the bandage. The skin around the wound was red and swollen, and pus was forming in the gaps between the stitches. The wound itself wasn’t the problem, Lottie knew. While it looked bad, it was the kind of injury they wouldn’t bat an eye at in the medical center. The infection was the real threat. 

"Is it really that bad?" Monty asked in a hushed tone.

"No, he looks fine," Lottie replied with ease, the lie rolling off her tongue effortlessly. It was just another part of the job; she had become an expert at hiding behind a façade.

Later that night, when everyone else had drifted off to sleep, Lottie whispered reassuring words into the darkness. "Everything will be okay," she repeated, although it sounded more like a desperate plea than a comforting statement. She wasn't even sure who she was directing her prayers to anymore. After all, humanity had abandoned Earth during its most dire time. The planet wouldn't care how many lives were lost now.

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in the dropship had been tense ever since Clarke had brought back Jasper. Lottie missed the alone time that she had while Clarke had been off playing leader. Now that Clarke was back, the first floor of the dropship had turned from the infirmary into a hang out spot for Clarke, and Finn, and Wells, and Monty, and whom ever else just wanted to hang around. Honestly, so many people were in there all the time now. Lottie was fed up with all of them. It was meant to be an infirmary, not  a hang out spot for wannabe politicians.

Lottie had been spending more time outside of the ship, with Roma and Murphy, instead of being suffocated by Clarke. Murphy hadn't been all that insufferable lately. It was weird, and kind of refreshing.

Of course there were still times that Clarke would drag her back into the dropship to help out. Like now for example, Clarke had pulled Lottie back in to help her look at the poultice that the grounders had put on Jasper's wound. 

Back on the Ark, a lot of the medicine had used a ton of herbal properties and ingredients, as recourses in space were limited, for obvious reasons. Lottie had always been good with plants, and all the nurses on the Ark were trained on how to make medicine. It was one of the things that she had excelled at, her knowledge retention, and chemistry skills. That was also the reason that she got locked up, apparently you weren't meant to make medicine in your personal room.

"It could be a handful of things, Clarke." Lottie said with a huff of exasperation. "It's not like I studied where the plants grow in Earth."

"But if we figured it out could we recreate it?"

"Most likely, but like really look at his wound." Jasper was lying on one of the cots. He was still asleep, and the newest bandage seemed to be holding up. Lottie had already changed the wrappings three times since they’d found Jasper and brought him back.

The memory of stitching up the wound made Lottie’s stomach churn, and she hoped that the boy remembered even less. Jasper had passed out from the pain and had been fading in and out of consciousness ever since. The poultice was hardened, and peeling up from the red, inflamed edges of the wound. It was clearly showing signs of infection, and the edges of skin were ridged, and leaking pus.

 "Come on, they cauterized his wound, it saved his life."

Finn, ever the optimist, chimed in. "They only saved his life, so they could string him up as live bait."

Clarke didn't acknowledge him beyond a roll of her eyes. "It's starting to look infected, he could be septic."

"It's more than septic," Lottie gave a sad laugh, "This seems similar to a protozomia infection. Look at how it's traveling, and the color of the veins around it."

While Lottie and Finn got closer to inspect Jasper's wound, Clarke turned her attention towards Monty, as he sat starring at the wristbands in his lap. "Have you made any progress on using the wristbands to contact the Ark?"

Monty didn't respond, like he couldn't hear anyone around him.

"Monty!" Clarke yelled out, gaining his attention and snapping him out of it.

"That would be a firm no," he said, looking down at his lap. He had been doing that a lot lately, spacing out.

As Clarke looked back down at Jasper,  she couldn't help but let out a sigh. "My mother would know what to do."

Clarke pulled back the bandage, trying to keep her face neutral as she unwrapped it. The skin around the wound was red and swollen, and pus was forming in the gaps between the stitches. The wound itself wasn’t the problem, Clarke knew. While it looked bad, it was the kind of injury they wouldn’t bat an eye at in the medical center. The infection was the real threat. 

“That bad?” Monty asked quietly. 

“Nah, he looks great,” Clarke said, the lie falling smoothly from her lips. 

Lottie, still looking at the wound, couldn't help but rack her brain trying to remember anything that could help him. She knew a few, but for the life of her she couldn't seem to picture them. Yarrow could help, but she was pretty sure it was out of season. Dandelion was more for heart issues. Echinacea was good for ear infections. Arnica helped speed up broken bones. Burdock helped fight infection.

Finn's brow furrowed in confusion as Lottie uttered the word "Burdock". She stood up from her seat on the dropship, a determined glint in her eye.

"A tincture. I can use burdock to make one, it should help," she explained, her voice filled with confidence.

Clarke's concerned voice echoed through the air as Lottie made her way off the dropship, "Take someone with you!"

But Lottie simply waved her off, determination etched onto her features as she strode away.

Lottie slipped away from the camp, heading out into the forest to try and find some herbs that could help. The landscape was a desolate expanse of forest, strewn with the carcasses of long-forgotten machines and skeletal remains of buildings that once teemed with life. Each step was deliberate, avoiding the treacherous pitfalls hidden amongst rubble and ash.

The sky above her bore an ominous palette, a bruised blend of grays and sickly yellows that promised nothing but hostility. Radiation had eroded the world around her, leaving behind a pitted and scarred terrain that mirrored the trauma etched into their own skin.

Murphy didn't really know why the ancient humans even bothered to do drugs. Like, what was the point of shooting junk into your veins when just walking through the forest seemed to have the same effect? It was like something happened to him each time he crossed the tree line. Bellamy had sent some kids to go out hunting, after seeing how fast the food had disappeared last night. As Murphy moved away from the camp in the early morning sunlight, he began taking deeper breaths. His heart pounded with strong, slow, steady beats, his organs marching in time to a pulse in the ground. It was like someone had hacked into his brain and cranked up his senses to a setting he hadn’t known existed.

But the best part was the quiet. The ship had never been completely silent. There was always a low hum of background noise: the drone of the generators, the buzz of the lights, the echo of footsteps in the hallway. It had freaked him out the first time he entered the forest, not having anything to drown out his thoughts. But the more time he spent here, the quieter his mind became.

Murphy scanned the ground, his eyes skipping over the rocks and damp patches as they searched for clues. There were no tracks to follow as there’d been yesterday, but something told him to turn right, and go deeper into the forest where the trees grew thicker, covering the ground with strange shadows. That’s where he would go if he were an animal.

He reached behind his shoulder to grab one of the spears he’d constructed. Holding his arms out for balance, he half shuffled, half skidded down the slope, trying his best to not make any noise that could scare an animal away. He landed at the bottom with a thud, mud squelching under his tattered boots. Murphy winced as water sloshed through the gap above the soles. It would be uncomfortable walking back to camp with wet socks, something he’d learned the hard way. He wasn’t sure why that wasn’t mentioned in any of the books he read. What was the point of knowing how to build a snare out of vines, or which plants to use to treat burns, if you couldn’t walk?

He laid his socks over a branch to dry, then dipped his feet into the stream. It was already hotter out than it had been when he left camp, and the cold water felt incredible on his skin. He rolled his pants up to his knees and waded in farther, grinning like a complete doofus as the water swirled around his calves. It was one of his favorite things about Earth, how mundane stuff like washing your feet suddenly felt like a huge deal.

The trees weren’t as dense by the stream, and the sun shone brighter. Murphy’s face and arms suddenly felt unbearably hot. He pulled off his T-shirt, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it onto the grass before reaching down to scoop water into his hands and splash it over his face. 

He smiled, still blown away by the revelation that water could have a taste. They’d always made crude jokes about the ship’s recycled water supply, how you were basically drinking your great-grandfather’s piss. Yet now he realized that the centuries of filtration and purification had stripped the liquid until it was no more than a collection of hydrogen and oxygen molecules. He reached down and cupped another handful. If he’d had to describe it, he would say it tasted like a combination of Earth and sky—and then he’d punch whoever laughed at him for it.

A crack sounded from inside the woods. Murphy spun around so quickly, he lost his balance and fell backward with a splash. He quickly scrambled to his feet, rocks and mud shifting beneath his bare toes as he turned to look for the source of the sound.

“Walk much.” 

Murphy pushed his hair back and saw Lottie standing on the grass. It was startling to see someone else in the woods, which he’d come to think of as belonging exclusively to him. But the flash of irritation he was expecting never came. “You couldn’t wait till afternoon?” he asked, making his way back to the bank. 

Lottie rolled her eyes, and a light pink dusted her cheeks. “We need that medicine,” she said as she looked away from his bare chest. She was so tough most of the time, it was easy to forget that she was the same annoying little girl that he grew up next to. 

Murphy grinned as he shook his head, sending droplets of water flying. 

“Hey,” she shouted, jumping backward as she tried to flick the water off. “We haven’t tested this stream yet. That could be toxic.” 

“Since when did you become such a priss?” He sat down in a sunny patch of grass and patted the spot next to him in invitation.

“A priss?” Lottie lowered herself to the ground with a huff. “You could barely hold the knife last night, your hand was shaking so badly.” 

“Hey, I helped kill the jaguar. I think I did more than my fair share. Besides”—he paused as he lay back on the grass—“you’re the one who’s trained to cut things open.” 

“I’m not, really.” 

Murphy brought his hands behind his head and tilted his face toward the sun, exhaling as the warmth seeped into his skin. It was almost as nice as being in bed with a girl. Maybe even better, because the sun would never ask him what he was thinking. “Sorry to insult you,” he said, stretching out the words as a relaxed heaviness settled in his limbs. “I know you’re a cupcake, not a butcher.” 

“No, I mean I was arrested before I finished my training.” The note of sorrow in her voice reverberated strangely in Murphy’s gut. 

He gave her a weak smile. “Well, you’re doing a great job for a quack.” 

She stared at him, and for a second, he worried he’d offended her. But then she nodded and stood up. “You’re right,” she said. “Which is why we need to find that medicine. Come on.” 

Murphy rose to his feet with a groan, slipped into his shoes and socks, then slung his shirt over his shoulder. 

“I’d recommend putting your shirt back on.” 

“Why? Are you worried you won’t be able to control yourself? Because if you’re concerned about my virtue, I have to tell you, I’m not—” 

“I meant”—she cut him off with a small smile—“there are some poisonous plants out here that could make that pretty back of yours erupt with pus-filled boils.” 

He shrugged. “For all I know, that might be your thing, cupcake. I’ll take my chances.” 

She laughed for what Murphy was pretty sure was her first time on Earth. He felt a surprising flicker of pride that he’d been the one to make it happen. “Okay,” he said lightly, pulling his shirt over his head and smiling to himself when he caught Lottie’s eyes on his stomach. “The wreckage was farther west. Let’s go.” He started walking up the slope, then turned to look at Lottie. “The direction the sun sets in.” 

She ran a few steps to catch up to him. “When did you even learn all of this?” 

“There wasn't a lot for me to do in Lock-up, but Pike had some old Earth skill books that he let me borrow.” He shrugged his shoulders, "You know how I'd always read a lot, this way it was at least something new." He trailed off, not sure how much it she actually cared. But Lottie was looking at him expectantly, her eyes full of curiosity and something else he couldn’t quite identify. “I figured, the more I knew, the better chance I might have had to do something with myself if they let me live.” 

They reached the top of the slope, but instead of heading back toward camp, Murphy led them deeper into the woods. The trees grew so close together that their leaves blocked most of the sun. What little light made it through dappled the ground in golden pools. Murphy smiled as he saw Lottie taking care to step around them, like she had done when she was a little kid trying to avoid the lines crossing the skybridge.

"This is how I imagined Sherwood Forest,” he said, her voice full of reverence. “I almost expect to see Robin Hood pop out from behind a tree.” 

“Robin Hood?” 

“You know.” he stopped to look at her. “The exiled prince who stole medicine to give to the orphans?” 

Lottie stared at him blankly. 

“You kind of remind me of him, now that I think about it,” he added, with his easy grin. Murphy ran his hand along a vine-covered branch that shimmered slightly in the dim light. 

“I never really had time for reading,” she said stiffly. But then her voice softened. “I remember when we were kids, you used to make up stories all the time. My favorite was about the enchanted trash can.” 

He snorted. “It was the best I could do.” 

Lottie smiled.

He turned away from her and headed further in the trees. “We’ll find the medicine chest. What’s in it, anyway?” 

“Everything. Sterile bandages, painkillers, antibiotics… things that could make all the difference for…” She paused for a moment. “for all the injured people.” 

Murphy knew she was thinking about the goggles kid she was watching over, Jasper. 

Murphy led Lottie down a steep hill bordered by slender trees whose branches wove together to form a sort of archway. The silence felt ancient, as if even the wind hadn’t dared to disturb the solitude of the trees for centuries. 

Lottie opened her mouth, but before she could launch a retort, she stumbled over a rock. 

“Whoa there,” Murphy said with a laugh, grabbing her hand to steady her. “I forgot that you’re not the best at stuff like walking.” 

“This isn’t walking. This is hiking—something no human has done for hundreds of years, so give me a break.” 

“It’s okay. It’s all about division of labor. You keep us alive, and I’ll keep you on two feet.” He gave her a playful squeeze, and Lottie felt her face flush. 

She hadn’t realized she was still clutching his hand. “Thanks,” she said, letting her arm fall to her side

Murphy paused as they reached the point where the ground flattened out again. “This way,” he said, gesturing to the left. 

“How's you end up in the skybox?” She asked after a beat or two of silence. 

Murphy’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “Pretty much the same reason you did...” He trailed off, realizing, to her embarrassment, that it wasn't quite the same. "I mean, getting medicine for my dad."

"Your dad, is he," Lottie trailed off, “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean that—” 

“It’s fine,” Murphy cut her off, taking a step forward. "But no..."

They continued walking, although now, the silence had an edge to it. 

“Hold on,” Lottie whispered, reaching out a hand to block the path. Her eyes fixed on a spot where the trees were so dense, it was almost impossible to distinguish the shrubs from the shadows. There she saw it—a small little plant, growing in the shrubs. She held her breath, as she moved in closer, examining the flower.  She wasn't a hundred percent sure how it was meant to look in the wild, but this was most likely the plant she was hoping for. 

With a rough tug, she pulled it up with the roots, careful to grab as much of the plant as possible. Jasper would need all he could get.

The tension seemed to have drained away, Murphy’s mood visibly bolstered. “So, you still talking with that weird quiet girl?” he asked, shifting his bag to his other shoulder. 

Lottie rolled her eyes at his question. “Haven't really had time, been busy being yelled at by Clarke."

Murphy snickered. “Yeah, well, that part was obvious.” He paused, waiting for Lottie to continue. “but,” he prodded, "She's been hanging out with that Connor kid, and he's worst news than I am.” 

“You aren't that bad.”  

“Seriously,” he said quietly. “Check on her soon?” 

Lottie didn’t say anything, but couldn’t help wondering why this was so important to her old friend.

Murphy glanced up, as if the treetops had caught his attention, then looked back at Lottie. “I’m not saying he would do something terrible, like hurt her or whatever.” He reached out to run his finger along the bright-yellow moss spiraling up the trunk of a tree. 

Lottie started to reply, but realized that she wasn’t sure what to say. Everything was different down here on the surface— "Maybe you’re right,” she said quietly, surprised by his behavior.

Murphy paused, then increased his stride, suddenly excited by whatever he saw. “It was up here,” he said, pulling her up another shallow slope into a clearing. The grass was dotted with white flowers, except for a spot about halfway down that was burned black. Pieces of the dropship lay scattered about like bones. The duo moved among the wreckage with caution, scanning for any sign of the coveted medicine chest. Time was a luxury they did not possess, and every second spent exposed in the open was a gamble against the elements and other, more violent survivors who might emerge from the shadows.

Lottie broke into a run. She heard Murphy call her name but didn’t bother to look back. She stumbled forward, hope blooming in her chest. “Come on, come on, come on,” she muttered to herself as she began rummaging through the wreckage with a manic frenzy.

Then she saw them. The metal boxes that had once been white but were now discolored by the dirt and flames. She grabbed the closest one and held it up, her heart pounding so fast it became difficult to breathe. Lottie fumbled with the misshapen clasp. 

It wouldn’t open. The heat had welded the hinges shut. Frantically, she shook the box, praying that the medicine had survived. The sound of pill bottles rattling around inside was the sweetest thing she had ever heard. 

“Is that it?” Murphy asked, skidding to a breathless stop next to her. 

“Can you open this?” Lottie shoved the box at his chest. 

He held it up, squinting at the clasp. “Let me see.” He removed a knife from his pocket, and with a few quick movements, pried the chest open. Lottie peered into the compartment, her eyes adjusting to reveal rows of neatly organized medical supplies. It was a find that could mean the difference between life and death for their group.

Exhilaration fizzed through Lottie’s body. Before she realized what she was doing, she had thrown her arms around Murphy. 

He joined in her laughter as he staggered backward, and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and spinning her through the air. The colors of the clearing swirled, green and gold and blue all blurring until there was nothing in the world but Murphy’s smile, lighting up his stormy eyes. 

Finally, he set her down gently on the ground. But he didn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he pulled her even closer, and before she had time to catch her breath, his lips were on hers. A voice in the back of her brain told her to stop, but it was overpowered by the smell of his skin and the pressure of his touch.  

Lottie felt like she was melting into his arms, losing herself in the kiss. He tasted like joy, and joy tasted better on Earth.

Chapter Text

The compartment's contents glistened under the dimming light, a treasure trove of vials and bandages that gleamed like jewels against the backdrop of destruction. Lottie’s hands moved with reverence as she touched a sealed bottle of antibiotics, her fingers tracing the label. The sight sparked a surge of adrenaline that coursed through her veins, fueling a burst of hope that illuminated the desolate landscape.

"Murphy," she gasped, the words tumbling out in a rush of elation, "we could—we could survive."

Her companion nodded, his eyes reflecting the gravity of their find. They worked quickly now, urgency propelling their actions as they transferred the supplies into their weathered backpacks. Each item was a promise—a chance to heal wounds, to fight infections, to claw back from the brink of despair that threatened to consume their enclave.

"Let's not waste time," Murphy urged. "We need to get back to—"

Lottie's breath hitched as the world around her began to blur and twist, an eerie dance of vapors materializing from nowhere. A pungent cloud of acidity settled into the air, stinging her nostrils and pricking at her eyes like a thousand tiny needles. "Murphy!" she called out, voice edged with alarm.

His warning cut short as the world around them began to hiss. It started softly, like a whisper carried by the wind, but soon grew louder, angrier. Lottie's heart sank; she knew that sound all too well—the precursor to the acid fog that rolled in without mercy, scorching everything in its path.

"Run!" she shouted, the nurturing calmness of her tone replaced by the sharp edge of fear.

The once clear horizon was now a churning mass of ominous grey, swallowing up the desolate landscape. Trees and ruins alike were consumed by the relentless tide, their forms distorting into grotesque silhouettes against the swirling backdrop.

"Inside, now!" Lottie commanded, her voice steady despite the pounding of her heart. Her medical training had prepared her for crisis, but nothing could truly ready one for the unpredictable ferocity of this new world.

Murphy nodded, his muscles tensing as he prepared to sprint. He grabbed Lottie's hand, the calluses on his fingers scraping against her skin—a rough but reassuring touch.

They sprinted, their footsteps pounding against the cracked earth as the fog crept behind them like a relentless predator. Visibility dwindled rapidly, the air thickening with toxic particles that stung their eyes and clawed at their throats.

They dashed towards the skeletal remains of a building that loomed nearby, its windows hollowed out, a testament to better days long forgotten. A structure loomed ahead, half-collapsed, a remnant of a world long gone. Lottie lunged for it, Murphy close on her heels. They tumbled inside just as the fog enveloped the space where they had stood moments before.

As they breached the threshold of the decrepit structure, Lottie's chestnut hair whipped wildly behind her, her ponytail coming loose in the chaos. She caught glimpses of peeling paint and crumbling walls, the remnants of a past civilization, before her vision was obscured by the thickening haze.

"Watch your step," Murphy grunted, his voice barely audible over the hiss of the fog eating away at the world outside. He led Lottie through the darkness, his hand a vice on hers, unyielding and warm.

"Here," Lottie panted, drawing her makeshift mask—a ragged piece of cloth—over her mouth and nose. She motioned for Murphy to do the same.

They huddled together, the fog pressing against the walls of their refuge like waves against a shore. Time became an enemy as the night stretched endlessly, each minute laced with the acrid taste of danger that seeped through even the smallest of gaps.

Lottie's gaze swept across the cramped confines of the weathered shelter, deep furrows in her brow cast shadows across her brown eyes, betraying the weight of her worry.

They found a corner where the walls still held firm, providing a semblance of protection. Lottie pressed her back against the cold concrete, trying to slow her breathing, to ignore the burn in her lungs as the scent of corrosion seeped even here.

Murphy stood guard, his body a rigid silhouette against the dim light filtering through the holes in the structure. "We'll wait it out," he said, not turning to face her. There was a hardness to his tone, but Lottie heard the underlying concern, the protective streak that made him more than the hardened rebel he pretended to be.

They huddled together, the chill of the concrete biting through their clothes as they pressed into the shadows. The air was heavy with a silence that wasn't silent at all, filled instead with the distant, relentless hiss of the acid fog outside. Lottie's chest rose and fell with measured breaths, each one taken as if it were precious - because here, now, it was.

Murphy shifted beside her, his body tensing as if he could fight off the fog by sheer willpower alone. "Should've never left camp," he muttered under his breath, though whether it was to her or himself, Lottie couldn't tell.

"Wouldn't have made a difference," she whispered back, her warm brown eyes scanning the darkness for any change. "We're safer here than out there."

"How long do you think it will last," she whispered, her voice muffled by her makeshift mask. "The fog?"

"Who know, but we won't be able to tell if it's gone or not till morning."

Lottie bit her lip, sensing the undercurrent of anxiety that was fast becoming a torrent of discontent. The air itself seemed saturated with it, thick enough to choke on.

The tension snapped when Murphy's boot connected with an empty can, sending it skittering across the room to ricochet off a wall. "Dammit, we're dying here and for what? So we can keep playing house while everything falls apart?"

"It that what you think we are doing? Playing house?" Her voice, raw and edged with bitterness, cut through the murmurs like a knife. Murphy turned, weary eyes settling on the girl with a mix of agreement and unease.

As dawn approached, the fog began to recede, retreating with the same quiet menace with which it had arrived. Shoulders hunched, eyelids drooping under their own weight, fatigue was an uninvited guest clinging mercilessly to their bodies, yet beneath it lay a sliver of victory. They had survived the night, and with their cache of medical supplies, they harbored the possibility of many more tomorrows.

Lottie watched the first rays of light pierce the fog, her thoughts already turning to the task ahead. Distributing the supplies would be delicate work, a balancing act between need and fairness that she was all too familiar with. But for now, she allowed herself to bask in the glow of the new day, a brief respite before they faced the realities of their shattered world once again.

"Another day, another meal that wouldn't feed a rat," grumbled a voice from the corner, where a few had gathered in a futile attempt to savor their meager portions.

Time seemed a fluid concept in the confines of their shelter, stretching and contracting with the ebb and flow of their fears.

Dawn's tentative light pierced the oppressive gloom, searing through the fog like a beacon of hope. Lottie's weary eyes blinked against the brightness, her vision slowly adjusting as the world regained shape and color. Beside her, Murphy shifted, his muscles protesting the night spent on the unforgiving concrete floor. They rose together, their movements cautious and deliberate, joints popping in quiet protest.

"Looks like we might just live to see another day," Murphy quipped, though the rasp in his voice betrayed the tension that had not yet abated.

"Don't jinx it, already" Lottie replied, her tone half-hearted, too drained from the ordeal.

They listened for any lingering threat from the fog before stepping outside into the warming sun.

"We should head back," Lottie said.

The morning sun filtered through the trees. Lottie and Murphy walked in silence, as they left the makeshift shelter, confident that they would be safe for a short time. But with each step they took, Lottie's unease grew. The familiar sounds of nature were now accompanied by an eerie stillness, as if even the animals knew to stay hidden.

"We need to keep moving," Murphy finally spoke, his tone grim.

Lottie nodded in agreement, her eyes scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. She could feel the weight of their responsibility pressing down on her shoulders like a physical force. They had made it through the night, and with their stash of medical supplies.

As they continued on, their path led them deeper into the forest and back towards the dropship. Murphy's hand gripped his weapon tightly and Lottie adjusted her backpack, feeling the weight of their supplies against her back.

The camp came into view, a haphazard collection of tents and salvaged materials standing defiantly amidst the desolation. Figures moved about, heads turning as Lottie and Murphy approached, relief etching itself onto every face they met.

"Thank God," Roma murmured as they crossed the threshold back into the fold of survivors.

"Are you two okay?" Bellamy asked, tinged with concern, as everyone else had mad it back earlier in the day.

"Been better, but we're still kicking," Murphy answered, his attempt at nonchalance fooling no one.

"Everyone thought the fog got you, too," Octavia said.

"More than fog will be needed to take us down," Murphy added.

But as they approached the clearing, all thoughts of their night out in the fog were pushed aside by the mammoth outline of the dropship. Lottie took off with the medicine tucked safely in her bag, having Murphy follow her in.

The ship was empty except for a delirious, feverish Jasper, a stoic Monty, who was still staring at the damned wristband in his lap, Clarke and all her fretting, and a small, Charlotte, who was curled up on Clarke’s side. “I just wanted her to get some sleep,” Clarke was saying, in response to Charlotte, but Lottie didn’t do more than nod.

Lottie flung the medicine chest onto the floor, filled a syringe, and plunged the needle into Jasper’s arm. Then she turned back to the box, searching for painkillers. She quickly gave him a dose and smiled as the boy’s face relaxed in his sleep.

Clarke's voice trembled as she asked, "So you guys found it, the medicine, Lottie?" Her eyes were wide and anxious as she awaited her response.

"We found it," Lottie confirmed, her voice steady despite the weariness that clung to her like a second skin. She busied herself with organizing the remaining medical supplies, her movements deliberate and efficient. Murphy stood by her side, his gaze scanning the room for any potential threats.

Clarke's shoulders visibly sagged with relief at Lottie's words. "Thank you," she breathed, the weight of their collective survival resting on her shoulders. Jasper's still form lay before them, a stark reminder of the fragility of their existence in this unforgiving world.

As Lottie continued to tend to Jasper's needs, Clarke knelt beside her, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and concern. "Will he be okay?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

Lottie paused, a fleeting shadow crossing her features before she masked it with a reassuring smile. "He'll pull through," she said with conviction, though doubts lingered in the depths of her tired eyes.

Lottie knelt next to Jasper for a few more minutes, breathing a deep sigh of relief at her steady pulse. For a moment, she looked down at the bracelet on her wrist and wondered if, somewhere up in the sky, someone was monitoring her own heart rate. Clarke’s mom was up there, reading the hundred’s vital signs like the day’s news. Surely they had seen that several people had died already, along with the handful that had removed theirs… She wondered if they’d chalk the deaths up to radiation poisoning and rethink their colonization efforts, or if they’d be smart enough to realize they’d been killed because of the rough landing. She wasn’t sure which scenario she preferred. She certainly wasn’t ready for the Ark to extend its jurisdiction to Earth. And yet her mother and father had devoted their lives to helping humanity return home.

Finally, she scooped the medicine back into her bag and placed it in the corner of the tent. Tomorrow, she’d find a place to lock it up, but for now, Lottie felt like she could finally rest. If someone was indeed monitoring their body count up in space, she was going to make damn sure they didn’t drop below ninety-five.

She took a few shaky steps and collapsed on her cot without even bothering to take off her shoes.

“Is she going to be okay?” The youngest asked. Her voice sounded far away.

Lottie murmured yes. She could barely open her eyelids.

“What other medicine was in there?”

“Everything,” Lottie said. Or at least, she tried to say it. By the time the word reached her lips, exhaustion had numbed her brain. The last thing she remembered was hearing Clarke rise from her cot before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

When Clarke woke up the next morning, most everyone was gone, and bright light was streaming in through the dropship door. Jasper laid on his back, still asleep. Lottie on the cot near the door, rolled on her side. She rose with a groan, her muscles stiff from being trapped in the car yesterday with Finn and Wells. 

Clarke headed over to check on Jasper. She pressed the back of her hand against the boy's forehead and was relieved to feel that it was cooler than it had been last night. She gently pulled back the blanket to look at Jasper’s stomach. His skin still showed signs of an infection, but it hadn’t spread any farther. As long as Jasper had a full set dose of antibiotics, and help from Lottie's burdock and Clarke's seaweed, he’d make a full recovery.

It was hard to know exactly, but based on the amount of light, shining in the ship, she guessed that at least twelve hours had passed since Jasper’s last dose. She turned and walked over to the corner where Lottie had stashed her backpack, with the medicine and herbs, frowning slightly as she realized it was open. Clarke crouched down and inhaled sharply, blinking to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.

All the antibiotics, the painkillers, even the syringes—they were all gone. 

“No,” Clarke whispered. There was nothing. “No,” she said again, scrambling to her feet. She ran over to the nearest cot and started to throw the bedding aside, then did the same with Monty's.

Her eyes landed on Murphy’s cot, the one next to Lottie, and her panic momentarily hardened into suspicion. She hurried over and began rummaging through the pile of blankets. “Come on,” she muttered to herself, but her hands came up empty.

“No.” She kicked the ground.

Clarke's eyes darted quickly around the dropship, searching for any sign of movement. She clenched her fists tightly as she realized the gravity of the situation. Lottie sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "What's wrong?" she asked, noticing Clarke's fury.

"The medicine is gone," Clarke said sharply, her voice taut with worry. "All of them." The medicine wasn’t in the dropship, that much was clear. But whoever had taken it couldn’t have gone far. There were fewer than a hundred human beings on the planet, and Clarke wasn’t going to rest until she found the thief who was jeopardizing Jasper’s life. She probably wouldn’t have to look very far.

The sunlight had peeked over the horizon, signaling the start of a new day in the camp. Despite the early hour, work was already in full swing. "This section needs to be finished by tomorrow," Murphy reiterated. Murphy and Bellamy were deep in conversation when Connor's stumble interrupted them with a thud, as he dropped the log he had been carrying next to the two.

Murphy couldn't resist insulting Connor, who struggled to catch his breath after dropping the log. "You think the Grounders are just going to sit around and wait for us to finish this wall? Maybe we should let little Charlotte here do the lifting for you, huh?" Laughter burst from Murphy's lips as he teased both Connor and the young girl who stood nearby.

Connor responded with a groan, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "I just need some water, okay? Then I'll be fine." The sun making it ridiculously hot, despite the earliness of the day, was beating down on them relentlessly, but they pressed on, determined to complete a long list of tasks for the day. The sounds of hammering and sawing mixed with laughter and banter, creating an oddly comforting background in the midst of their new world.

"Murphy, get this guy some water." Bellamy's voice rang out through the clearing, cutting through the camps noise. He turned to Charlotte with a relaxed grin, his strong arms crossed over his chest. "Hey, you got this?" he asked playfully, stopping her as she attempted to lift the large log that was far beyond her strength. "I'm just teasing," he chuckled.

Meanwhile, Murphy had a glint in his eye as he unzipped his pants and proceeded to relieve himself on Connor. The startled boy exclaimed in disgust, "What the hell is wrong with you, Murphy?"

But Murphy only let out a mocking laugh, taunting him further. "You wanted a water break? This is as close as you're gonna get!"

"Enough!" Bellamy shouted, pulling them apart and holding them back as they struggled against each other's grip. "What the hell?" Murphy's smirk never faltered as he shrugged off Bellamy's hold and walked off.

Bellamy and his group had been stationed at the opposite end of the camp, a good distance from the dropship. Despite the early hour of morning, Bellamy's T-shirt was already drenched in sweat, showing off his defined chest. Clarke tried not to stare as she moved towards him, feeling her own body start to glisten with perspiration. Finally stopping in front of him and catching her breath, Bellamy set down his ax and greeted her with a sly smile on his face.

"Well, hello there," he said playfully. "Can I help you, Princess?" He stepped forward and placed a hand on her waist, but Clarke swatted it away.

"I need you in the dropship," she said urgently, glancing around as she talked. "We need to talk."

His playful demeanor vanished at the urgency in her voice. "Why?" he asked, concern clouding his expression.

"Just meet me there," Clarke replied before turning to go find Wells.

The tension on the ship was thick as Clarke took a deep breath, bracing herself for her next words. "The medicine we found is missing," she said, her voice strained, "And I think Murphy took it."

"What?" Bellamy's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who else knows about this?"

Clarke shook her head. "No one outside of this ship," she replied, scanning the faces of everyone around her.

"That's bullshit," Lottie snapped, cutting her off. "Out of all the criminals on this goddamn planet, you think Murphy is the thief?" She glared at Clarke.

"He was the only person in the dropship that makes sense. It wasn't us, it couldn't of been Jasper, and Monty wouldn't put Jasper at risk—” Clarke defended herself.

"Lottie, think about it," Wells chimed in, ever the helpful one. "Murphy was arrested for stealing medicine before."

Bellamy had moved himself firmly between Lottie and Clarke, his voice calm but commanding. "Just take a deep breath and relax. We don't need to make a scene."

Lottie's eyes flashed with anger as she retorted, "No. I can't believe I trusted you. You're just like the other Alpha Station bitches, thinking you know what's best for everyone else."

With a pissed off look on her face, Lottie tried to push past Bellamy and out of the dropship. But he quickly grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. "Come on, let's think this through. Look at what we've accomplished so far...the wall, the patrols..."

But Clarke was already pushing past them both, her mind made up. "I'm ending this now," she declared, striding out of the dropship with purpose. The tension in the air was palpable as the three of them stood there, waiting for the train wreck that Clarke was about to cause.

The sun hadn't yet reached the middle of the sky, but a unsettled air had already taken root within the camp. Clarke's gaze zeroed in on Murphy, who sat with the group, his back against a cold, unyielding slab of concrete.

"You conniving, treacherous bastard!" Clarke's voice rose to a scream as she barged into Murphy's personal space, her fists clenched at her sides.

Wells trailed after her, his expression tense as he tried to mediate the situation. The air between them crackled with tension and anger.

"What's your problem?" Murphy asked, with his usual smirk on his lips.

"Murphy, where's the damn medicine?" Clarke said.

Murphy pushed himself up, his muscles protesting. He surveyed the girl across from him, the fear etched into her every movement. "What medicine?"

"Bet you know exactly where it went, don't you?" Clarke said, the distrust palpable in her tone.

"Wait the medicine for Goggles?" He asked, looking around, as a crowed began to form, everyone loved to watch some chaos form.

"It's gone, Murphy. Where is it?" Clarke accused.

Murphy's face twisted into a scowl. "Look, Clarke," he began slowly, "I didn't touch your damn medkit." His voice was low and gravelly from exertion. "You don't have any proof I took them."

"Wouldn't put it past him," Connor said, as he walked up to the crowd. "After all those scraps he's been in."

Murphy felt their stares bore into him as they searched for evidence of stolen medicine. He clenched his jaw, anger rising.

"Really? Bellamy, you believe this?" Murphy said, looking to Bellamy who was towards the dropship, with a grip on Lottie's arm, keeping her away from the fight. "Anyone could have taken them," he reasoned. But his words only ignited the camp's tension.

"Always playing tough, eh, Murphy?" a voice yelled from the crowd. Accusations followed, cutting deeper with each strike.

"I'm not your thief!" he shouted over the cacophony. The relentless tide of hostility all but drowned his words.

"We need you to tell us where the medicine is," Wells said calmly.

"I don't have it." Murphy's voice wavered.

The camp fractured into factions - some rallying behind Murphy with wariness, while others banded together in certainty of his guilt.

He dove for Clarke, but Wells stepped in front of him, and someone else wrenched his arm behind his back. “Get off of me!” Murphy thrashed wildly as he tried to wrench himself free, but there were too many sets of hands holding him down, locking him in place.

“You’re only making things worse,” Finn hissed.

"I don't have to answer to anyone!" Murphy's voice cracked sharply. The situation had devolved into a struggle for power and control amidst an unsolvable crisis.

"Bellamy, I didn't do this!" Murphy called out, as he struggled against the hands that held him.

"He was even sleeping in the dropship last night!" someone accused.

"Was just sleeping," he retorted weakly.

Murphy ducked as a fist sailed overhead, the camp erupting into chaos around him. Angry shouts and punches flew in his direction.

"Enough, come on. This is ridiculous. I don't have to answer to you. I don't have to answer to anyone!" Murphy's voice cracked like a whip, his patience frayed.

"Come again?" Bellamy said, handing Lottie over to Roma, and heading into the chaos.

"Bellamy, look, I'm telling you, man. I didn't do this," he called out, his tone assertive, desperately trying to redirect the mounting hysteria.

"Thief! Liar!" they yelled.

"Back off!" Murphy countered, parrying blows with practiced skill. Once familiar faces now twisted in anger, seeing him as an enemy.

"Enough!" he roared, but his plea vanished in the crowd's frenzy. A rock whizzed past, too close for comfort.

"Stop this!" Lottie cried out in his defense, from the dropship, restrained by Roma.

The camp had become a storm of emotion and violence. As fists connected with flesh and tempers flared, accusations turned physical and scuffles escalated.

"Stop fighting!" Charlotte screamed, trying to wedge herself between two combatants, her voice barely a whisper against the fray.

Murphy's few loyal friends formed a human shield around him. "Tell them you didn't take it!" one implored. But Murphy knew his innocence would fall on deaf ears now.

"Get him!" Connor spat, lunging forward, Murphy evaded each blow and sidestepped attacks, understanding that violence would only incriminate him more.

"Think about what you're doing!" he tried again, dodging a fist, navigating through the swarm of bodies.

Murphy's breaths came in ragged gasps as he twisted and turned, trying to evade the flailing arms and clenched fists. The air was thick with tension, every shout and accusation punctuating the atmosphere like a bullet shot from a gun. He stumbled over a loose rock, feeling the rough ground scrape against his palms as he tried to keep himself upright.

"I say we float him," Octavia declared, cold and final, as if sentencing him to an inevitable fate.

The sound of agreement moved through the crowd. A fist connected with Murphy's jaw, snapping his head to the side. Pain radiated through his face, but it was nothing compared to the sting of betrayal. He had fought alongside these people, and now they were willing to break him over suspicions and fear.

"That's not what I'm saying!" Clarke shouted, her voice lost in the uproar.

He caught another punch, redirecting it with the instinctive skill of one who had weathered many brawls. But for every blow he blocked, two more landed, each one a brutal reminder of the camp's chaos.

"Why not," Octavia countered sharply. "Murphy's always been trouble—violent and defiant. He deserves to float. It's justice."

Murphy's back hit the dirt hard as he was tackled to the ground. Boots and fists rained down on him. Murphy curled protectively, arms shielding his head as he absorbed the blows. This was not justice; this was the raw frenzy of cornered animals.

"Murphy, please!" A plea cut through the chaos, a familiar voice strangled with distress, Lottie. But there was no mercy in the faces that surrounded him—only anger.

"Revenge isn't justice!" Clarke tried again, but her voice lacked the sharpness needed to cut through the crowd.

"Where would I even hide it? Use your heads!" Murphy's defiance rang hollow against the onslaught, pain consuming him as he fought to stay conscious amidst chaos. He could feel the bruises blooming across his skin, the taste of iron sharp on his tongue.

"It's justice!" Octavia shouted, and the word became a rallying cry for those whose fear had festered into rage. Diplomacy crumbled beneath unchecked emotion.

"No! Get off him!" Clarke insisted calmly amid the noise. But accusations flew relentlessly, shattering their fragile order in this desolate new world.

Murphy watched from the ground, the pain in his body eclipsed by the ache in his chest. He witnessed the camp's division, as fear turned friend against friend. As he struggled to rise, the world around him felt like a fractured mirror, reflecting only brokenness.

"No! Stop this! They'll listen to you!" Clarke's plead with a look towards Bellamy.

The dirt was painted a deep crimson, the stark remains of Murphy's blood now etched into the ground. The acrid stench of smoke lingered heavily, a sickening reminder of the chaos that had erupted moments before. And amidst it all, Charlotte's voice pierced through like a knife, her normally soft tone becoming a sharp command.

"Enough!" Charlotte's voice rose above the murmurings, despite her gentle demeanor. "It wasn't Murphy who stole the medicine," she confessed with a trembling voice. "It was me." As the truth hung in the air like a heavy cloud, the group fell silent, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

 "Oh, my God."

Chapter Text

Jessica stared into the flickering flames, the buzz of conversation around him mingling with the cracking of the logs. It had been just a short while since the camp's confrontation with Murphy, and so far the hundred had seemed to calm down a bit. The sun beamed down on them, coating everyone's skin in a sheen of sweat, and the air was thick with dust and musk. Jessica watched Connor walk over and take a seat beside her, his jaw clenched tight. She could feel the anger radiating like heatwaves from his body. Jessica looked at him, her eyes wide with confusion mixed with fear. 

"You okay?" she asked tentatively, reaching out to touch his arm.

Connor let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair before staring into the flames pf the fire. "It's just...everything that happened with Murphy," he said, his voice tight with anger. Jessica couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in her stomach. 

"Hey," Connor's voice interrupted her thoughts. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Jessica nodded, her dirty blonde curls bouncing slightly as she attempted to return the gesture, her eyes wide and brimming with anxiety. The silence between them was heavy, pregnant with unspoken fears and the weight of the unknown. The encounter with Murphy had been intense, to say the least. But she couldn't understand why Connor seemed so personally affected by it.

Jessica sat with her head cradled in her hands as she tried to process the chaos that had just unfolded. The image of Murphy's bloodied face, the sound of fists connecting with flesh, the shouts of accusation - it all replayed in her mind like a nightmarish loop.

The way the crowd had so easily turned on Murphy, the way that Connor had so easily jumped into the fight. The eagerness with which they had condemned him without proof - it chilled her to the bone. Was this what they had been reduced to? Savages who turned on each other at the slightest provocation?

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out the images that were burned into her memory. The way Murphy's body had been beaten and bloodied, the fear on Charlotte's face as she confessed to stealing the medicine. Nothing made sense anymore in this world where survival seemed to justify any means necessary. 

Jessica scanned the clearing, searching for Lottie. The fight had left her feeling unsettled, and she was desperate for some sort of normalcy. She needed to see Lottie, to know that she was safe. few scuffles had broken out over the handful of rocks that had become prime seating around the campfire, but for the most part, everyone seemed willing to tolerate the soggy grass to sit close to the warmth of the flames. A few girls had sought out a third option and were now perched on the laps of smug-looking boys. There was much more smoke than usual, probably because all the firewood was wet, and it took a few moments for her eyes to settle on the familiar dark head of hair.

Lottie moved through the crowd, her eyes scanning for Murphy's familiar dark hair in the sea of faces. She pushed past a group of laughing boys, barely registering their leering stares as she made her way towards the edge of the clearing. She finally spotted him, sitting on the ground with his back against a log, his head bowed and his hands covering his face.

She knelt beside him, her hands hovering uncertainly as she tried to find a way to help. Murphy's face was bloodied and bruised, one eye swollen shut and a split lip that oozed blood onto his chin. Lottie felt her heart sink at the sight, knowing that she was partly to blame for what had happened.

"We need to get you cleaned up," she murmured, her voice barely rising above a whisper. 

Murphy didn't respond, but she could see the pain etched into every line of his body. Lottie reached out tentatively to touch his shoulder, but he flinched away from her touch with a low groan.

Lottie moved through the crowd, to knelt beside Murphy, her hands hovering to help him, uncertainty readable on her face. "We need to get you cleaned up," she murmured, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

"Leave it," Murphy rasped, his voice raw, pushing away the hand she extended. His gaze swept the camp, eyeing down anyone who dared look him. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, trying to ignore the pain. Lottie hesitated for a moment before nodding and backing away, her hands still hovering in the air as if she didn't know what to do. "We've got bigger problems now."

"Come see me later," She said, as he moved to stand on his own. "I'll fix you up."

Mbege walked up to Murphy's side, "What do you say?" He asked the other boy. 

"If I get a death sentence, so does the girl." He said, looking over at the dropship, where Bellamy and Clarke had swept Charlotte away too.

Another boy stepped up as well, "We are with you Murphy."

The rest of the camp seemed to freeze as Murphy stalked past them, his boots thudding against the hard ground with each step. "Bring out the girl, Bellamy!" Murphy yelled, striding up to the outside the dropship. 

On the inside of the dropship, another conversation was taking place. “Why, Charlotte?” Bellamy hissed. 

“I didn’t…,” she stammered. “It wasn’t…” 

“Cut the bullshit, Charlotte,” he snapped. "Jasper could still die."

Charlette’s eyes darted to Jasper, then shifted down. “I didn’t think he was still that sick,” she said softly. “Lottie had already given him medicine. By the time I realized he needed more, it was too late. You saw how they were. I didn’t know what they’d do to me.” 

When she looked up again, her eyes were filled with tears. “Even you hate me now, but please don't let them hurt me.” 

Bellamy sighed and sat down next to the younger girl that reminded him so much of his little sister. “I don’t hate you.” 

Clarke looked at her, “I just don’t understand. Why’d you do it? The truth this time, please.” 

Charlotte fell silent, and he could see her skin growing clammy as she began to tremble. “Hey?”  

“I needed them,” she said, her voice small. “I can’t sleep without them.” She paused and closed her eyes. “At first, it was just at night. I kept having these terrible dreams, so the nurse at the care center gave me medicine to help me sleep, but then it got worse. There were times when I couldn’t breathe, when it felt like the whole universe was closing in on me, crushing me. The nurse wouldn’t give me any more medicine, even when I asked, so I started stealing pills. It was the only thing that made me feel better.” 

Bellamy stared at her. “That’s what you were locked up for?” he asked slowly, the realization overtaking him. 

Charlotte didn’t say anything, just nodded. 

“If you guys have any bright ideas, speak up.” he asked, looking at the others around him. Wells was staring at his hands, the hands that helped hold down Murphy. Finn was watching the door, waiting for the moment when someone would barge in. Clarke was staring at Charlotte with an unreadable look in her eyes. "Now you guys stay quiet."

"Those are your boys out there." Clarke said, glancing uneasily at Bellamy.

"This is not my fault. If you had listened to me, those idiots would still be building the wall."

They could hear Murphy yelling from outside the dropship. "You want to build a society, princess? Let's build a society. Bring her out." His voice was rough, but it was full of anger.

Charlotte grabbed Bellamy's arm, "No! Please, Bellamy." 

Bellamy shook her loose and headed towards the door, "Charlotte, hey, it's gonna be okay. Just stay with them." 

Clarke watched Bellamy leave, before she turned to Charlotte, seeing the fear in the young girl's eyes as the younger clutched onto her arm. With a soft voice, Clarke said, "We'll figure this out, Charlotte. Just stay with us for now."

Wells finally looked up from his hands, his expression troubled. "We can't let Murphy have his way. There has to be another solution," he said, a hint of desperation in his tone.

Finn nodded in agreement, his jaw clenched. "We need to come up with a plan before things spiral out of control even more. We can't let our fear dictate our actions."

Clarke took a deep breath, her mind racing. "Okay, here's what we'll do...”

Murphy stared up at the sky. He’d never felt at ease in the overcrowded tents, and after what had happened today, the thought of being crammed next to people who’d been ready to tear him apart was unbearable. 

Despite the cold, he knew what he had to do. He had to stand up for himself, if they were so ready to kill him for a crime he didn't commit. Then he needed to show them what happened to people who actually did it. Lottie's face flashed in his head, the torn expression that she held, before he had made his way out of camp, with his gaggle of goons and friends behind him. 

A rustling in a nearby tree caught his attention and he rose to his feet, craning his neck for a better look. "Charlotte! You can't hide forever!" he called out. Murphy's voice echoed through the forest, and he could hear Bellamy trying to keep quiet. Bellamy was never good at hiding himself, he had never been the one that had to hide. 

Murphy on the other hand had learned from a young age to be quiet on his feet. He knew that the kid was out here somewhere. He had to seem tough, he couldn't afford to be weak right now. He neared Bellamy, noticing that the other wasn't alone out in the forest.

Bellamy stood in a defensive stance, trying to drag Charlotte along with him. Charlotte's trembling voice could be heard pleading with Bellamy to leave her alone, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon her.

But as Murphy closed in on them, she cried out for help again. Murphy sprung, using surprise to take the young girl out of Bellamy's grasp.

Murphy stared down at Charlotte as he held her in his grasp, his fists clenching and unclenching with the effort to control his temper. He was determined to make an example out of her, to show everyone what happened when you disobeyed the rules of the camp. But the fire in her eyes made him pause for a moment. He glanced at Bellamy, then back at Charlotte, feeling the weight of the younger girl in his arms. The crackling of twigs underfoot and rustling of leaves in the background filled his ears as he stood there, considering what to do next.

Charlotte shifted uncomfortably in his grip, tears streaming down her face. She could feel the cold steel of the knife against her skin, and it sent a shiver down her spine. The familiar smell of blood and dirt filled her nose, reminding her of the chaos that had just ensued back in camp. Murphy's friends crowded around them, their breaths heavy and fast, their eyes hungry for revenge. The sound of crickets chirping in the distance seemed to mock their situation, making it all too real.

Clarke stepped forward, her hands raised in a sign of surrender. "Murphy, let her go," she pleaded. "She made a mistake, alright? But she's sorry. Can't we just talk about this?"

Murphy glared at her, his brown eyes hard as stone. "Talk?" he spat, his voice thick with anger. "You think talking will fix this? She almost killed Jasper! She got me almost beat to death."

Bellamy stepped forward, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, his eyes narrowed and filled with anger and determination. "You wouldn't dare," he growled, his voice holding a dangerous edge. The adrenaline coursing through his veins making him feel alive for the first time in a long time. Finn, Wells, and Clarke took subtle steps forward, their bodies tense and ready to defend Charlotte. The night air was thick with the scent of pine and dirt, punctuated by the occasional whiff of fear as they all held their breath.

Bellamy's chest heaved as he glared at Murphy, his fists clenched at his sides. "Give her up," he growled, a dangerous edge to his voice. 

"Or what?" Murphy sneered. "You gonna take us all on?" 

Finn stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "Let her go, Murphy," he said firmly. 

But Murphy just laughed and shook his head. "I don't think so," he said. "I finally have some leverage here and I'm not giving it up." 

Clarke stepped towards them now, her eyes pleading. "We can talk about this," she said calmly. 

Finn exchanged a worried look with Clarke as they realized that Murphy had no intention of backing down. 

Murphy gritted his teeth in frustration as he glared at Bellamy, "No talking." The tension between the two was palpable, the air thick with hostility. Charlotte stood between them, trembling with fear as she tried to plead for mercy. But Murphy's grip on her was tight and his words were cold and threatening.

"I'm sick of listening to you talk," Murphy spat at Bellamy.

"Let her go," Bellamy replied calmly, his eyes locked on Murphy's.

"I will slit her throat," Murphy threatened, tightening his hold on Charlotte.

Charlotte's voice trembled with terror as she pleaded, "No, please. Please don't hurt her."

But Murphy was not moved. Instead, he made a sinister deal with Charlotte. "Don't hurt her? Okay, I'll make you a deal. You come with me right now, I will let her go."

Bellamy's jaw tensed as he urged Charlotte not to make a rash decision. "Don't do it, Charlotte. Don't do it!"

But Charlotte couldn't bear to see anyone else get hurt because of her actions. She whispered to herself, "No! No, I have to! Murphy, this is not happening. I can't let any of you get hurt anymore. Not because of me. Not after what I did."

Clarke's eyes widened , her heart raced as she frantically called out to Charlotte, but her friend was already leaping off the edge of the cliff. Clarke could only watch in horror as Charlotte's body disappeared into the depths below. Bellamy's face contorted with rage and grief as he stood beside Clarke, both of them powerless to stop what had just happened.

"Charlotte!" Clarke screamed, tears streaming down her face.

"No! No, no, no! No!" Bellamy roared as he lunged towards Murphy.

The two grappled furiously while Clarke tried to break them apart before anyone got seriously injured. "Bellamy! Stop! You'll kill him!"

But Bellamy was consumed by rage and revenge. "Get off me!" he shouted as he struggled against Murphy's hold.

"He deserves to die," Bellamy seethed, his eyes filled with hatred.

"No!" Clarke cried out. "We don't decide who lives and dies. Not down here."

Bellamy's grip loosened slightly as he listened to Clarke's words. He remembered her earlier betrayal and his anger started to dissipate. "So help me God, if you say the people have a right to decide…"

Clarke didn't hesitate to admit her mistake. "No, I was wrong before, okay? You were right. Sometimes it's dangerous to tell people the truth. But if we're gonna survive down here, we can't just live by whatever the hell we want. We need rules."

Bellamy's gaze softened as he realized the gravity of the situation. "And who makes those rules, huh? You?"

Clarke took a deep breath before responding firmly. "For now, we make the rules. Okay?"

Bellamy nodded in understanding but still couldn't bring himself to forgive Murphy's actions. "So, what, then? We just take him back and pretend like it never happened?"

Clarke's hands shook as she pleaded with Bellamy, her voice cracking. "No, we can't just banish him."

Bellamy turned to face Murphy once again, his eyes narrowing. His clenched fists relaxed slightly, but his tone was still authoritative. "Get up, Murphy."

But Clarke couldn't bear to watch this unfold. She grabbed onto Bellamy's arm, trying to stop him. "Bellamy, please! We can't do this!"

But Bellamy stood firm in his decision, ordering Murphy to leave their camp for good. "If you ever come near us again, we'll be back here."

As for the four others who had followed Murphy, Bellamy gave them a choice: either follow him or go off with Murphy and face certain death.

Bellamy watched Murphy disappear into the distance, he felt a mixture of relief and guilt. He knew that the decision to keep Murphy at bay was the right one, despite the risk he posed, but he could not help feeling responsible for Charlotte's tragic end.

Murphy, his face twisted in anger and frustration, reluctantly got to his feet. As he turned to leave, he snarled at the group, "You wait and see. This isn't over."

Chapter Text

Lottie should have known better than to get close to Murphy again, it never ended well for her. Look at her now, all depressed, sitting on the third floor of the dropship, her knees drawn up to her chest. She was staring out of the hole that was blasted out of the wall the day that the ship had landed on Earth.

She didn't cry over him, she hadn't cried in years, not since her mom had died, but she wasn't about to start now. She did wish that she could have at least patched him up, but he had never given her the chance, not before he had stormed off into the woods. 

Clarke and Bellamy, the self-instated leaders of camp, hadn't even let him back into camp to get any supplies. Lottie didn’t fault them for their decision to exile him, he had caused a kid's death, but wasn't everyone here criminals. Murphy shouldn't have been almost beaten to death for just being accused of theft. Did it really matter that much? He wouldn’t have been the only murderer in camp. Hell, they let Jessica stay and she had killed more than one person on the Ark.

From where she sat in the dropship, she could still see the flames of the campfire, still flickering in the very early hours of the morning. She had been awake most of the night, staring at the same spot of camp, and trying to sort out the mess in her head.

A bright streak falling from the sky pulled her out of her thoughts, at first she thought it might have been a shooting star, but it kept falling. It landed. Whatever it was had landed, and it was no more than a short trek from camp. And Lottie was sure that she wasn't the only one who saw it. 

All around camp, the kids who had been awake to see whatever it was fall, had formed into groups, their voices rising in excited chatter about the mysterious object that had landed nearby. Lottie pushed her way through the crowd, stopping next to Octavia to try and help her to wake up Bellamy from his tent.

"Hey, Bellamy!" she called out, rapping on the fabric of his tent until he emerged, his bare chest on show as he glared at her.

"What is it now, Lots?" he groaned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Over there," Lottie pointed towards the horizon, where the thing had landed, and where smoke could be see rising above the tree-line. "Something landed from space. It could be from the Ark."

"What was that?" Mbege asked, as he stood nearby.

Drew, one of Bellamy's followers, walked up and joined them, as a group began to form. "Do you think they're sending down help?"

"Like guards?" Octavia asked naively.

Jones, another member of Bellamy's group, chimed in with a dose of reality. "It's too small to be a dropship. I'm thinking it's a cargo pod."

Roma emerged from Bellamy's tent wearing an oversized shirt that clearly belonged to him. She joked, "Please tell me they brought some shampoo."

"No one is sending you shampoo," Lottie laughed.

"They'd send a radio," Jones interjected. The whole group seemed to freeze for a second to take it in.

"We could talk to The Ark," Octavia said hopefully, realizing this could be their chance to connect to the Ark and get some much-needed help on the dangerous Earth.

Wells appeared next to the group and added, "If it cleared the ridge, it's probably near the lake. We should get moving. Everyone is ready."

For a moment, no one spoke, as Bellamy was thoughtful for a minute. Bellamy hesitated, glancing at the dark forest around them. "No one is going anywhere until morning. It isn't safe in the dark. We'll head out at first light. Spread the word."

Lottie muttered under her breath, as her eyes darted around the group. "Everyone within 100 miles must have seen this thing come down."

"What if the grounders get to it first?" Wells asked.

"Bell," Octavia urged, tugging at his sleeve. "We should go now."

"I said we wait until sunrise," Bellamy repeated stubbornly, crossing his arms in contempt.

The members of the hundred were up and about earlier than usual on this particular morning. Rumors of a crash landing had spread throughout the camp, causing a buzz of excitement. Most of them had gathered up in groups to gossip about the different theory on what may have been in the ship. Although not all of them, The main group around Wells were trying to talk about anything but that topic. 

"So, I was out the other day, with Jas, and I think that we found another food source." Monty said, as he sat on the smooth rocks, next to the firepit, with Octavia and Jasper. Lottie and Wells sat on a log next to them, everyone waiting on Bellamy to get around, so they could go out and get whatever was in the pod.

"Really?" Lottie said, leaning forward.

Wells turned towards Monty, "What do you mean?" 

"There were like some sort of nuts on this tree, that Jas stopped to take a leak under." Monty said, recounting the events.

"Piss nuts really?" Octavia cut in with a laugh.

Jasper shrugged, before joking, "Pee nuts." 

"Oh god, shut up. So were they edible?" Lottie rolled her eyes at the two, before looking back to Monty.

"I don't know I didn't try them." 

"Did you bring any back?" Wells asked.

"Nah," Monty shrugged. "I wasn't going near Jas' piss"

"Well do you want to go tomorrow and we can take a look and see if they are edible." Lottie asked, Monty nodded in agreement.

"Wells, come with us, between the three of us we should be able to see if they are will kill us of not." Lottie asked, turning to look at the boy in question.

Wells nodded, "I got nothing better to do. I might as well." 

"Looks like everyone is up," Finn observed, as he and Clarke got back into camp

"Did you guys see whatever that was last night?" Clarke asked excitedly, as she joined Wells and Lottie by the fire.

"Yeah, it looked like it came from the Ark. It must have," Wells replied.

"What if it's our ticket back to the Ark?" Drew asked.

Lottie whacked him on the shoulder. “Do you just never listen when Clarke talks, the Ark is dying, that’s why we are here, dummy.”

A silence fell among them, broken up only by the crackle from the fire. Clarke stared into the distance, where the mysterious object had crashed. It was oh-so-close close, yet so far away under the cover of trees.

Determined to find out more, Clarke declared, "Let's grab our things and investigate."

But Lottie rolled her eyes at her friend's impulsiveness. "As much as I'd love to join in on your adventure, Bellamy told us to wait until later and go as a group."

"Of course he did," Clarke huffed, scanning the camp for Bellamy. "Where is he then?"

Lottie couldn't help but laugh. "Last I saw him, he was several inches deep inside Roma."

Finn chuckled at Lottie's blunt remark as they followed behind Clarke and Wells towards Bellamy's tent. As expected, Clarke barged in first, followed closely by Wells. Finn and Lottie trailed behind them, entering the tent to find Roma half-dressed and alone.

"Where the hell is Bellamy?" Clarke demanded.

Roma rolled her eyes in irritation. "He left a while ago."

Finn glanced around the tent and noticed Bellamy's gear was missing. "Yeah, looks like he took off."

Wells looked indignant. "But he told everyone to stay put."

Clarke's annoyance grew as she realized Bellamy must have left in search of whatever had crash landed. "We have to get there before he does."

With that, Clarke turned to leave the tent, Finn and Wells following closely behind her.

"You're welcome," Roma called after them sarcastically.

Lottie wiggled her eyebrows at her friend, playfully teasing, "So you slept well?"

Roma laughed and pushed Lottie out of the tent. "Oh my god, get out!"

Chapter Text

It was nearly noon, and Clarke and Finn had already been gone for hours. It had taken all of Wells’ self-control to keep from running after them, but he and Clarke still hadn't had time to talk about things, yet. The thought of her running off with Finn made his stomach feel like a punching bag for his imagination. But he had to accept that, of all the people in camp, Clarke knew how to take care of herself. He also knew how important it was for her to go after Bellamy. 

Just yesterday, they dug another grave. He wandered toward the small cemetery that had cropped up on the far side of the clearing. Over the past few days, Wells had arranged for wooden markers to be placed at the head of each mound, something he remembered from old photographs. He’d wanted to carve the names onto the crosses, but he only knew the names of one of the kids sleeping beneath the soil, and it didn’t seem right to leave the others blank. He shuddered and turned back to the graves. 

The concept of burying the dead had initially struck him as repulsive, but there hadn’t seemed to be any alternative. The thought of burning the bodies was even worse. But although the normal practice of releasing corpses into space was certainly tidier, there was something reassuring about gathering the dead together. 

Even in death, they’d never be alone. 

In the evening, the plants still glowed to life, casting a soft light over the cemetery that gave it an almost unearthly beauty. It would have been nice to have somewhere on the ship where it wouldn’t have seemed strange to talk to his mother. 

It was also strangely comforting to have a place to visit, to say the things you couldn’t say to people you could see. He’d seen Lottie's friend Jessica, flitting near the trees, she had been the one that gathered fallen branches and rested them along the wooden markers. 

“What are you doing over here?” Wells turned and saw the quiet girl moving toward him.

I don’t know. Paying my respects, I suppose.” He gestured toward the graves. “But I was just leaving,” he added quickly as he watched her toss her blonde hair over her shoulder. “It’s my turn to go for water.”  

“Do you want someone to go with you?” Jessica asked with a nervous tilt of her head, and Wells looked away uncomfortably.   

The long lashes that made her look so innocent when she was sitting across from him at the campfire now lent a feral gleam to her enormous eyes.

Wells hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by Jessica's sudden offer. He knew she had been through a lot since they landed on Earth, and her unpredictable behavior had made some in the camp wary of her. But as he looked into her eyes, he saw a genuine concern that touched him.

"Sure, thank you. I could use the company," Wells replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He appreciated the chance to spend some time away from the constant tension and struggles within the camp.

Together, Wells and Jessica made their way towards the nearby stream where they usually collected water. The journey was quiet at first, the only sound being the crunch of leaves under their feet and the occasional rustle of wildlife in the distance.

Being with Jessica offered a bit of a break from the constant state of insanity back at camp.

At the stream, Wells knelt down by the water, filling their containers while Jessica kept watch, her gaze scanning their surroundings with a hint of unease. The silence between them was comfortable, each lost in their own thoughts as the water flowed gently over the rocks. Wells couldn't shake off the gnawing worry for Clarke and Finn, they had been gone for hours, and with every passing minute, his anxiety grew. 

Suddenly, a rustling sound made him freeze. His hand instinctively reached for his weapon, but he relaxed when he saw it was only a small animal. Shaking his head, he turned back to Jessica.

"We should get back," he said, trying to mask his concern. But Jessica seemed to read his mind. It was late afternoon, the sun rising high in the sky as Wells made his way back to camp from his water run with Jessica. The bonfire was already lit, flickering across the faces of those gathered around it. Wells could see the exhaustion etched on their faces.

As he approached the group, Wells couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. It had been hours since Bellamy, Clarke and Finn had left to explore the unknown and there was still no sign of them. He cleared his throat, trying to break through the quiet noise among the group. 

Has anyone heard from Bellamy, Finn or Clarke yet?" He asked, his voice carrying over the crackling of the fire. 

A chorus of head shakes and murmurs confirmed Wells' fears. No one had heard from them since they left that morning. But as much as he wanted to believe that everything was fine and they would return soon, Wells couldn't shake off a nagging feeling that something had gone terribly wrong. 

"We can't just sit here and wait," Wells said, determination setting in. "We have to go find them."

A few other members of the group nodded in agreement, but others looked hesitant. Wells could understand their hesitation - they had already lost so much since coming to Earth. But he couldn't bear the thought of losing any more friends.

"Who's with me?" Wells asked, looking around at the group.

Lottie stepped forward immediately, followed by a few others who were ready to join the search party.

"I'll come too," Jessica spoke up, moving to Lottie's side. Wells felt a wave of relief wash over him as more members of the group volunteered to help. They might not all be warriors or skilled survivors, but together, they could cover more ground and hopefully find their missing friends.

"We need to be careful," Wells warned as they started to gather supplies for their journey. "Stay together and keep an eye out." 

Lottie's boots crunched over the brittle, moss-covered remnants of what once must have been a paved road. She paused, tilting her head to catch the foreign sound of a bird call weaving through the dense tree top above—a trill so pure and unanticipated it made her heart tighten with both wonder and an edge of fear.

"Jess, listen," she whispered, nudging her friend standing beside her, who was running fingers over the rough bark of a tree, eyes wide with childlike curiosity.

Jessica stopped and they shared a silent moment, the sounds of Earth enveloping them in its haunting embrace. The air was thick with the smell of moist soil, a drastic difference to the antiseptic chill of the Ark. 

"Do you think they're okay out here?" Jessica's voice was quiet against the backdrop of chirps and rustlings that filled the world.

Wells knew she was talking about their missing friends. They had been walking for hours, following the path that Wells hoped Clarke and Finn had taken earlier that day. But despite their best efforts, there was still no sign of their friends.

"I don't know," Wells answered honestly. "But we have to keep looking."

They continued on in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The forest seemed endless - towering trees with massive trunks and thick leaves that blocked out most of the sunlight. The ground was a mess of fallen leaves and debris, making it difficult to walk quietly.

As they walked through the forest, Wells couldn't shake off the feeling that they were being watched. Every rustle in the brush or snap of a twig made him tense up, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon.

Their moment of peace shattered as a voice cut through the forest's quiet noise, sharp and insistent. "Do you not care about anyone other than yourself?"

Wells didn't know that voice, and Wells had pretty much learned everyone's voice down here on Earth. Raven Reyes was a voice that he didn't know. With her head covered in blood and the the sharp tone in her voice, he was sure that he would soon know her voice blindfolded.

At the edge of the lake, Raven faced off with Bellamy, their figures tense. The delinquents that had been out looking for them now gathered around, forming a loose ring as if to watch a bout of combat rather than a verbal clash.

"Care?" Bellamy scoffed, stepping closer, the glint in his eyes challenging. "Do you think they cared, when they sent a hundred children down here to die?"

"You didn't die," Raven snapped back, her gaze steely. "But they will, without that radio."

Amid the discord, Clarke stepped forward, her posture rigid. "Enough!" Her voice cut through the noise as the crowd grew quiet. 

"Look," Clarke began, addressing both Bellamy and Raven with a level gaze. "We're not on the Ark anymore. The rules have changed, but we won't let them die, just so you can try to save your own skin. Now that we have some help," she gestured toward the group, "let's look for this thing."

Raven's jaw clenched, but she nodded begrudgingly, acknowledging Clarke's attempt at peacemaking. Bellamy scoffed, though his eyes remained fixed on Clarke, considering

"It's in the lake," Bellamy said, but there was less vehemence in his tone than before.

Clarke let out a sigh, her blue eyes scanning the group like a hawk. She stepped  up too Wells and the rest of the group, her presence commanding attention. "You heard him." Her voice resonated with an authority shaped by both her privileged upbringing and her acute awareness of their dire circumstances. "We'll start with the shore—then, we all move in towards the middle." 

As Lottie Isaac threaded through the throng of delinquents that waded in the water, the air was thick with contention. 

"Look, I think I got something!" Drew's voice sliced through the chatter, his hands above his head as he held a large metal box. "It this it?"

Lottie watched him, her pulse quickening. The t-shirt clung to her skin, damp from looking in the lake all day, her jacket and bag were left up on the shore. 

"Can you fix it?" Clarke asked, as Drew moved out of the water. The group's eyes flicked towards Raven, who stood a short distance away, her arms crossed, her gaze unwavering.

"Maybe," Raven said with a sneer, that was aimed towards Bellamy, her tone laced with steel. "But it'll take half a day just to dry out the components to see what's broken."

"Like I said, it's too late." Bellamy said, his piercing eyes locking onto hers. 

"Do you have any idea what you did?" Raven said finally, her voice rising above the fray. "Do you even care?"

"You asked me to help." Bellamy scoffed. "I helped."

"Three hundred people are gonna die today because of you. " Raven ventured, stepping forward. Her voice was steadier than she felt. "How can you live with yourself?"

"Hold up. We don't have to talk to The Ark." Finn interjected. "We just have to let them know we're down here, right? "

"How are we going to do that without a radio," Raven snapped.

"Flares," Finn said, jumping off the log that he had been sitting on. "We could launch them, so they can see that we are alive."

"Sure," Bellamy said, "as long as someone's looking out a window."

"Well if you have a better idea, then let's hear it. Because right now, all I see is you stirring trouble." Wells said, getting fed up with this argument.

Raven nodded slowly, as she began directing people. "We need to launch those flares ASAP if we have any hope of saving those people. Finn, get that control panel to camp. You, pull out those firing circuits in one piece or they won't work. Clarke, can I have a hand? Work these bolts here gently. Rocket fuel likes to go boom." 

“We need to launch those flares ASAP if we have any hope of saving those people. Finn, get that control panel to camp." Raven said pointing at something, which Finn quickly jumped up to grab. "You, pull out those firing circuits in one piece or they won't work." She told Wells as he moved to grab some wires off the pod. "Clarke, can I have a hand? Work these bolts here gently." Raven moved in to help Clarke to empty the rocket fuel out off the pod.

As the group dispersed to follow Raven's instructions, a tense silence fell over them. The fire flickered, casting long, dancing shadows as they worked. The gravity of their situation hung heavy in the air, each movement echoing with the desperate hope of survival.

Lottie's fingers curled into the fabric of her jacket as she watched the delinquents' faces, each illuminated by the glinting light of a dying fire. The crackling embers cast erratic shadows over their features, mirroring the turbulence that churned in their midst. "You up?"

"Yeah," Clarke countered with a steely edge to her voice, her blue eyes reflecting both the firelight as she sat between Bellamy and Lottie around the firepit. "Knowing that hundreds of people might be dying on The Ark makes it pretty hard to sleep."

The group shifted restlessly, the air thick with indecision and the scent of damp earth rising up from the ground beneath them. A low rumble of distant thunder added an ominous note to the already tense atmosphere. "Raven's flares will work," Wells interjected, his tone striving for calm.

"Her radio would have worked better." Clarke scoffed, tossing her hair back with a defiant flip.

"Have you seen Octavia?" Bellamy asked, a furrow etched deep between his brows. 

"Not since this morning," Lottie replied, locking eyes with Clarke. 

"It's Octavia." Clarke's voice cut through her focus. "She's probably chasing butterflies."

"Clarke, I've checked the camp," he replied, a hint of vulnerability cracking through his tough exterior. "She's not here."

For a moment, Lottie studied him, weighing the possibilities. Octavia was a wild card, but she never disappeared for this long. She let out a terse breath, giving a curt nod. "Ok," she conceded, "We'll help you find her." "Let's check the camp again," Clarke affirmed, the corner of her lip twitching upward. 

"You go to the dropship. I'll check the rest of the tents." Lottie said to Clarke, moving to stand.

Beside her, Bellamy nodded, his expression solemn. "Thank you."

"Don't Thank me," Clarke said, her gaze sweeping over the sea of faces that sat around them. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Octavia."

Chapter Text

Bellamy tore through the camp, anxiety pumping through his chest as he searched for any sign of Octavia. The group had been distracted, and Bellamy had lost track of time. Octavia's curiosity could lead her straight into chaos, and everyone knew it. Bellamy was just so angry, angry at Octavia, angry at the world, angry at himself.

Bellamy slid down the trunk of the tree and sank to the ground, feeling as hollow as the dropship. He’d been searching for Octavia for hours, tearing through the forest and screaming her name until his throat was raw, but the woods had answered him with nothing but silence. 

“Hey.” A weary voice interrupted his thoughts. Bellamy turned to see Lottie walking slowly toward him. 

“Any luck?” Lottie shook her head at him, as Clarke walked up behind the other girl.

"We'll find her, Bell," Clarke said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. Bellamy pressed his lips together and stared at a spot on the ground just beyond Clarke for a long moment. 

Lottie, on the other hand, looked less certain. She glanced back over her shoulder, eyes darting from side to side as if she expected something to jump out of the trees at any moment. "I don't like this," she muttered under her breath.

Bellamy rose shakily to his feet, holding on to the tree trunk for balance. He couldn’t stop to rest, not now, not when every hour meant an extra hour that Octavia might be in danger. Now that it was light, he could search again. Farther this time. It didn’t matter how long it took. He wouldn’t stop moving until he found her. 

Bellamy's boots crunched on the broken earth, his breaths quick and uneven as he moved from one makeshift shelter to another. "Octavia!" His voice tore through the camp, urgent and raw. He ducked under a low-hanging tarp, scanning the shadows for any sign of his sister. 

"O, come on, this isn't funny!" His words were filled with frustration, but there was also an underlying fear that grew stronger with every empty space he searched through. The Dropship sat in the clearing, its metal walls offering no comfort, only a grim reminder of their situation. He rounded the base of the structure, his eyes scanning the tree-line as he went.

"Guys, guys. Come here!" Drew's voice cut through the morning, a break in the chaos. The lanky boy pointed towards the sky, his eyes wide with awe. "Did you see that? Look up there. It's so beautiful."

Bellamy slowed to a halt, hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. He straightened and followed Drew's gesture, lifting his gaze towards the sky. A dazzling array of meteors streaked across the dull early moring sky. For a fleeting moment, the group stood still, their worries briefly forgotten.

"It's like the stars are falling down to Earth," Lottie whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft rustle of leaves.

A pregnant silence filled the air, broken only by the occasional gasp as another meteor blazed its path. Bellamy felt the weight of the situation press down on him once again, but for now, he allowed himself to be swept away by the magical lights in the sky above them.

Wells' voice brought him back to reality. "I heard that meteor showers bring good luck."

"I could use some luck right about now," Clarke admitted, her gaze never straying from the mesmerizing sight above.

As the meteors continued streaking across the sky, Bellamy couldn't help but wonder if this was indeed a sign of good fortune. Or perhaps, it was merely nature's way of reminding them of its raw, untamed power. Either way, he knew one thing for sure - they had survived another day.

Raven's words were sharp and angry as she replied, tilting her head towards the sky. "They didn't see the flares," she stated bitterly. 

"A meteor shower tells you that?" Bellamy's voice was raw and strained. 

"It's not a meteor shower, it's a funeral." Raven's tone held a hint of sadness. "Hundreds of bodies being returned to the Earth from the Ark. This is what it looks like from the other side. They didn't get our message. This is all because of you!" Her anger boiled over, her words accusing. 

"I helped you find the radio." Bellamy's voice was laced with frustration and regret. 

"Yeah, after you jacked it from my pod and trashed it!" Raven's voice rose with each word, as her temper having got the best of her. 

"Yeah, he knows." Bellamy cursed under his breath, knowing that he would have to live with the consequences of his actions. 

"All I know is that my sister is out there and I'm gonna find her." Bellamy urged, his voice barely above a whisper. "You coming or what?" The camp was a hive of activity, yet it felt hollow, a tomb echoing with whispers. Time was slipping through his fingers like sand, each grain feeling like a second lost in his search for Octavia.

"Let's round up the others," Clarke suggested, already moving with purpose. "We'll find her."
Moments later, they stood at the center of the camp, a group of young, determined faces gathered around them. Among them was Jasper, clutching his handmade map inked with notes on Grounder movements, and Finn, whose knowledge of tracking could help them identify which paths Octavia might have taken. Roma, with her uncanny knack for scavenging.

"Octavia is missing," Bellamy started, his voice clear and carrying. 

"Count me in," Raven said, stepping forward. Her eyes were steely, reflecting the glint of determination that shone in all of them.

"Good. Finn, Drew, you're with me. We'll take the east trail. Lottie, Wells, can you guys stay here in case she comes back. We need to cover as much ground as possible before nightfall," Bellamy instructed, a natural command saturating his words.

"Got it, Bellamy," Jasper nodded, adjusting the strap of his backpack. Finn gave a terse nod, his face set in concentration, already mentally sifting through his extensive mental catalog of the terrain.

"Hey," Roma touched Bellamy's arm lightly, a silent message of support passing between them. "We'll find her."

He met her gaze, the storm in his chest quieting enough to let the leader in him rise again. 

Yeah, we will," he affirmed, though the echo of his sister's laughter played like a haunting melody in his mind.

"Let's move out," Bellamy commanded, and the group began to disperse, boots thudding against the ground, each step a promise to return with Octavia safe and sound.

"We have to talk to the Ark." Clarke said, moving to look at Raven. "Three hundred won't be enough. The oxygen level will just keep dropping. And if we don't tell them that they can survive down here, they'll kill more people. They have to." 

"Guys... They're leaving." Finn interjected, shifting his weight from foot to foot nervously. He said, nodding to Raven. "I gotta do this. And you should stay and fix the radio, ok?"

"Fix it? The transmitter's smashed." Raven scoffed. "Unless there's a parts depot down here, we're not talking to The Ark."

"Art supply store," Clarke said, voice low and steady, "I know a place you might be able to get a transmitter."

"Great," Raven said, her tone leaving no room for debate. "It looks like you're coming with me instead." With a sense of grim resolve, the delinquents divided themselves between the leaders. Murmurs of voices mingled with the rustle of leaves as they moved out.

Lottie headed back inside the dropship, to find Monty, who had been working with Raven on the busted radio all day. He was working on a small mechanical device, his brow furrowed in concentration.

As if sensing that he was stuck in his own thoughts, Lottie cleared her throat, pulling him back to the present. "So," she began hesitantly. "Do you... like Jasper?"

Monty blinked, taken aback by the question. "What? No, not like that," he stammered. "He's been my friend, forever. Why do you ask?"

Lottie shrugged, her cheeks reddening slightly. "Well, you seemed really upset when you thought he was hurt," she explained. "And we had to drag you out of the dropship a time or two."

Monty chuckled softly. "Yeah, well, I guess I am kind of protective of him," he admitted. "But it's not like that between us."

Lottie nodded, her expression light. "Okay," she said quietly. "Just asking. Anyway, how's it coming along?" Lottie asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Monty looked up, a proud smile on his face. "Almost there. I think I can rig up a transmitter for the radio."

Lottie nodded, her mind already racing ahead to the possibilities. "That could be a game-changer. We could communicate with the Ark, get some real help."

Monty nodded, his hands continuing to move deftly over the device. "Exactly. It's just a matter of time."

"Got it!" he exclaimed, holding up a small remote control. "This should do the trick."

Lottie looked at him in surprise. "How did you know that would work?" she asked.

Monty shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Well, it's not like I had anything better to do," he replied. "Besides, I figured it out. Remember, I'm the brains of the operation."

Lottie left Monty to his work, her mind buzzing with possibilities. She decided to head around camp, and check on the few that were still at camp, the ones that didn't go to help Bellamy. Jonas and Wells who stayed behind to work in the meat hut with Dax. Connor and Jessica, who had recently came back from water duty. She checked on Jessica and Connor, making sure they were comfortable and had everything they needed.

Jessica's breath hitched as she fidgeted with the frayed edge of her tent, her eyes darting back and forth between the worn-out fabric and the small, wilting flower resting on her makeshift nightstand. The delicate petals seemed to wilt further under her worried gaze, mirroring her own fragile state of mind. Her heart pounded in her chest like a wild drum, and her trembling hands bore testament to the turmoil within.

As if drawn by some unseen force, Connor cautiously pushed aside the tent flap, revealing a silhouette framed by the dim, gray light seeping through the fabric. The creases around his eyes deepened as he scrutinized Jessica's anxious form, and he stepped inside with a quiet deliberation that seemed to consume the air between them.

"Hey, Jess," he murmured, lowering himself to sit beside her. His gaze remained fixed on her face, searching for any signs of comfort he might offer. His voice was soft, measured, like the gentle caress of a summer breeze. "What's got you so worked up?"

Her lips parted, but words failed her momentarily. She inhaled deeply in a vain attempt to steady her voice, which emerged as a fragile whisper. "They killed three hundred people today. What if they kill more?"

Connor's eyes narrowed, and the lines around them seemed to grow more pronounced. "Raven will fix the radio, Jess."

Jessica said, her voice wavering. "They need to know we're alive, that we're surviving."
Connor scoffed, recalling Raven's words. "Assuming they care," he muttered under his breath, where she couldn't hear, before raising his volume. "But, remember, they sent us down here because they believed we could survive. They trusted us. Don't worry too much."

Her heart ached at his words, torn between the desire for hope and the insistent throbbing of her anxiety. "It's easy for you to say, Connor. You're always so sure of things. But worrying is the only thing I'm good at."

He hesitated, weighing his response before speaking. "It's not about being sure, Jess. It's about dealing with things. Don't worry too much, I'll deal with things for you."

Jessica studied his face, tracing the sharp angles and the faint stubble that peppered his jawline.

With a deep breath, Jessica met the gaze of the man who stood beside her. His unwavering support and understanding gave her strength she didn't know she possessed. In that moment, she realized that despite the uncertainty looming ahead, she was not alone.

"Thank you," Jessica whispered once more, this time with a newfound resolve in her voice. "For everything."

The man's smile softened, his eyes reflecting a depth of emotion that mirrored her own. "We'll find our way through this, Jess," he said quietly. "Together."

Chapter Text

The sky was dark gray, a heavy curtain of clouds that seemed to smother the light beneath it. The rain was relentless, pouring down in thick sheets that obscured everything in its path. It was a storm of epic proportions, and even the hardiest of souls would have been no match for its fury.

Lottie was standing at the entrance of the dropship, next to Monroe, her face illuminated by flashes of lightning. Lottie could feel the rain soaking her hair and was getting plastered to her face, and her clothes were drenched. As she looked out into the storm, she could see some of other kids huddled together under makeshift shelters or desperately trying to keep their belongings from being swept away by the strong winds and heavy rain. Lottie moved back into the ship, waiting for Raven to make some sort of contact.

In the dropship, Raven stood at the makeshift radio station, eyes glued to the screen as static crackled and popped. Clarke paced back and forth beside her, her anxiety palpable as she scanned the area for any signs of danger.

Raven's fingers moved with practiced ease, adjusting the frequency knobs and fine-tuning the antenna. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing through the metal walls of their makeshift communication room. Raven was frantically trying to make contact with the Ark Station. The Ark, their lifeline to the world they had left behind, was just within reach.

“This is Raven Reyes. Calling Ark Station.” Desperation rang out in Raven’s voice. “Come in Ark Station. This is Raven Reyes. Calling Ark Station. Please come in.”

Frustrated, Clarke smashed her fist against the table. "Are you sure you have the right frequency?" she muttered under her breath.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Raven responded stubbornly.

Lottie walked towards Finn, who was laid up on the makeshift surgery table, her footsteps were heavy as she made her way through the crowded dropship. She grimaced as she saw his pale and clammy skin, knowing that his wound must be infected. Lottie's fingers trembled as she tore open Finn's shirt, revealing the gaping wound that stretched across his side. Blood seeped through her fingertips, staining her clothes and filling the air with a sickeningly sweet metallic scent. Her heart pounded in her chest like a war drum, and her mind raced, trying to recall every scrap of medical knowledge she had ever learned.

Lottie's hands moved with practiced precision, her medical training taking over as she assessed Finn's wounds. His labored breathing filled the air, a grim reminder of the gravity of the situation. "Bring me clean water and some alcohol," she instructed Octavia, who had taken to pacing the floor, her voice steady and firm as Finn winced in pain.

Raven desperately messed with the radio, her fingers trembling. She held her breath as she waited for a response. "Ark Station, this is Raven," she said into the speaker, her voice barely audible as she fought back tears. "The hundred are alive.  Please respond." She continued to call out, her voice growing more frantic with each attempt.

As Raven's desperate pleas continued, a male voice finally responded on the other end of the radio. "This is a restricted station. Who is this? Please identify yourself." The voice was stern and professional, but there was a hint of confusion in it.

Raven took a deep breath before responding, her voice shaking with emotion. "This is Raven Reyes. I- I'm from Mecha Station. I'm transmitting from the ground," she said, her words rushed and frantic. “I'm transmitting from the ground. The hundred are alive. Please, you need to get Doctor Abby Griffin. Doctor Abby Griffin. Now.”

The man's voice remained calm, but there was an urgency to it now. "Hang on, we are trying to boost your signal."

They were able to hear Abby’s voice came over the radio, “Raven? Are you there?”

As the radio crackled to life, Clarke's heart skipped a beat. She had been hoping and praying for this moment - to hear her mother's voice again. Her voice trembled with emotion as she spoke into the radio, "Mom? Mom, it's me."

"Clarke? Is that really you?" Abby's voice responded, filled with disbelief and hope.

“Mom, I need your help. One of our people was stabbed by a Grounder," Clarke explained urgently into the microphone. 

“Clarke. This is the Chancellor. Are you saying there are survivors on the ground?” Chancellor Jaha’s voice came through the radio.

"The Earth is survivable. We're not alone," Clarke continued over the radio, her words unknowingly causing shock and realization to spread across their faces. "He's dying. The knife is still in his chest," Clarke's voice shook as she pleaded for her mother's help. Lottie's mind raced as she cleaned and dressed each wound, her thoughts a whirlwind of medical jargon and urgent instructions. Infection...tetanus...bleeding... She pushed the fears aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Abby immediately sprang into action, asking to be patched through to medical. The unnamed man on the other end quickly complied. as Jaha's voice cracked over the radio. "Clarke. Is my son with you?"  

"Wells is fine, same as always. But we can talk about him later." Clarke said, shrugging him off.

"She needs you," Jaha’s voice said, fading out as he talked to Abby on the other side.

"I'll talk you through it, step by step," Abby reassured Clarke as they heard the dropship creaking and wind howling in the background. "Clarke...just...find-” Abby’s voice cut out.

Clarke's concerned gaze fell upon Raven, her friend's face etched with panic. "What's wrong, Raven?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.

"It's not the radio," Raven replied frantically, her eyes darting around the room. "It's the storm."

As the two of them messed with the radio, Octavia moved through the entrance with two canisters in her hands. Clarke took one from her and turned to face Octavia.

"Just great," Clarke muttered under her breath as she cautiously sniffed at one of the canisters, immediately making her grimace at the stoutness of Monty's homemade moonshine.

Octavia assured her, "No germ could survive that stuff." Before a loud crack of thunder caused the group to glance at the entrance of the dropship, as the storm intensified. 

Outside, lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the world around them for brief moments before plunging them back into darkness. Thunder boomed overhead, shaking the ground beneath them. The wind howled like a hungry beast, desperate to get inside and tear everything apart. Even through the thick walls of the dropship, they could feel the cold seeping in, making them all shiver. Clarke scrunched up her nose as she took a swig from the mason jar filled with the moonshine. Octavia laughed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

"Close the doors, Monroe," Clarke commanded, her voice strained. She knew they still had people out in the storm, but right now the radio and infirmary's safety was top priority.

"Monty and Jasper aren't back yet," Octavia added, worry etching her features. "And neither is Bellamy."

"It's okay, they'll find somewhere safe to ride it out," Clarke reassured them, although it didn't help much.

Lottie made noise to get Clarke's attention and held out a small needle that she had in her makeshift med-kit. "One stitching needle," she said proudly.

Clarke sighed. "I still need something to close the wound."

Octavia pointed upwards. "There's some wire on the second level. I used it for the tents."

"But I have surgical thread," Lottie interjected quickly, opening her kit to grab the surgical thread that she had managed to find, and handing it to Clarke as well. "Don't worry."

Clarke inspected the thread and nodded, relieved. "Let's see it."

Octavia said, as she headed up the ladder, to the second floor of the dropship. “I'm gonna grab some wire just in case.”

“Stay away from the blue wires that run through the ceiling. I rigged it to the solar cells in the roof.” Raven yells after her, “That means they're hot! You got that?” 

Raven, her face pale and worried, as she turned back to keep an eye on the radio, hoping to hear the sound of the Ark Station's response. She bit her lip, tasting blood as she listened to the static. She knew that every second counted right now, and Finn's life hung in the balance. Her heart raced with fear and adrenaline, making it difficult to breathe. Raven looked over  at Clarke with a mixture of worry and determination, her eyes pleading for reassurance. Clarke met her gaze, and nodded at the other girl, trying to convey confidence and strength. But deep down, she wasn't not entirely sure if they could save Finn.

 As Octavia climbs the ladder, a bolt of lightning strikes outside with an earsplitting crack, causing her to jump and wrap her arms around the metal rungs. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she cranes her neck to look out, but all she can see is a wall of rain and wind. She shudders and quickly gets back down, grabbing the wire she needs.

Clarke takes it with a nod of gratitude and helps Lottie to prep Finn's skin while Raven holds him still. They both flinch as a bolt of lightning hits the dropship's outer hull, sending shockwaves through the metal walls. The sudden brightness makes them blink before the darkness descends once more.

"Oh god," Raven whispers, her voice filled with dread.

"We're gonna get through this," Clarke insists, her voice barely over the sound of rain pelting against the roof and walls. 

The space inside feels smaller and smaller with each passing minute; they can hear everyone else huddling together for warmth despite their attempts at silence. Monroe is humming something under her breath that sounds vaguely familiar, her voice light and soothing but not quite loud enough to distract from the chaotic symphony outside.

Clarke took a deep breath , before she turned back to face Finn's unconscious form on the makeshift operating table. His chest was rising and falling in shallow breaths,  and his face had drained of color. She knew that time was running out. “Tell me you can do this,” Raven said, her voice barely above a whisper. Clarke looked over at Raven, not answering. She knew that there's no guarantee that she could save Finn but she also knew that she had to try.

“Hey! They're back!” Monroe exclaimed with a wide grin on her face.

Raven lets out a sigh of relief and holds up a hand, signaling for Clarke to stay silent, as Bellamy burst into the dropship, followed closely by Drew and Miller who were carrying Lincoln between them, just as Octavia lowered herself on the ladder from the second level.

Clarke let out a small sigh of relief at their return but quickly refocused on Finn. “How's he doing?” Bellamy asked, gesturing towards Finn.

“I don't know yet,” Clarke responded curtly  , as she and Lottie were busy preparing for the perilous procedure. Their faces were etched with determination as they gathered the medical supplies: a scalpel, forceps, sterile bandages, and the surgical needle and tread.

Lottie's hands were steady as she arranged the instruments on a makeshift tray. She glanced at Clarke, her eyes reflecting a whirlwind of fear and resolve. "We can do this, right?"

Bellamy nodded understandingly but doesn't push any further. He knows that Clarke needs all her concentration right now.

Octavia's voice was sharp with disbelief as she confronted Bellamy. "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, eyes narrowed in suspicion. But Bellamy remained resolute, his jaw set and determined. "It's time to get some answers," he replied firmly. Octavia scoffed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, you mean 'revenge'?" she retorted, clearly disapproving of his actions.

But Bellamy brushed off her words, focused on his goal. "I mean 'intel'," he clarified, his gaze shifting to the boys who carried a struggling Lincoln between them. "Get him upstairs," he ordered, gesturing towards the building.

Clarke approached Bellamy, her expression pleading. "Bellamy, she's right," she said softly, trying to reason with him. But he only glared at her, his anger palpable. In the background, radio noises crackled through the tense atmosphere.

Abby’s voice makes it through the static of the radio. “Clarke, okay we're ready. Can you hear me?”

Clarke looks up at the sound of her mother's voice crackling through the radio. She takes a deep breath before responding, her tone calm but firm.

"I can hear you, Mom," she says into the small device.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow in surprise at the mention of Clarke's mother. He had heard about Abby Griffin, the chief medical officer on the Ark and Clarke's mother, but he had never actually met her.

Clarke glanced over at Bellamy before turning back to face her mother's voice in the radio. "What's going on?" she asked, trying to keep her composure as she continued to work on Finn's wound.

Abby responded. "We have a plan."

Clarke let out a sigh of relief, grateful for her mother's guidance and expertise. She turned to Bellamy to give him a look, as he headed upstairs. “The blade is at a sharp upward angle. Between his sixth and seventh rib.”

“How deep is it?”

Clarke said, “Well I can't tell how deep it goes.” 

“Based on the handle it's over three inches, but it could be longer.” Lottie chimes in.

“That's works, just don't remove the knife yet.” Abby says, “Sterilize it.”

Lottie began to clean the wound with the moonshine, causing Finn to let out a groan of pain.

The rain pounded on the metal hull of the dropship, sounding like a thousand drums in unison. Lottie swallowed hard and nodded, taking a deep breath before opening the canister of moonshine and pouring it generously on Finn's wounds. The sharp smell of alcohol filled the cramped space, mixing with the metallic scent of blood and sweat. 

"I know it hurts, but we have to make sure it's clean," Lottie said sympathetically.

Abby's voice crackled through the radio once again. "Okay Clarke, I need you to make an incision above and below the blade."

Clarke's hands, that were steady just moments before, now trembled as she held the scalpel over Finn's pale, exposed skin. The makeshift medical area was dimly lit, casting elongated shadows that seemed to pulse with her accelerated heartbeat. Her gaze flicked to Lottie, who offered a reassuring nod, but Clarke couldn't shake off the heavy weight of responsibility. Clarke took a deep breath and carefully follows Abby's instructions. She took a deep breath, focusing on Abby's calm, steady tone. She let it out slowly, her fingers tightening around the scalpel's handle. With a swift, decisive motion, she made the first incision, biting back a gasp at the sight of blood welling up from the cut.

Beside her, Lottie watched intently, her face etched with concentration. 

She could feel Finn tense beneath her hands as she made the cuts, but he didn't make a sound.

"Now what?" Raven asked anxiously. Octavia stood beside her, offering moral support but unable to do anything else. She couldn't help but feel powerless in this situation. She glanced over at Raven, seeing her tense expression and knowing that she was feeling the same way. The two girls exchanged worried looks before turning back to face the storm outside.

Abby responded quickly. "Now Clarke, I need you to insert her finger into the wound and feel for any damage."

Clarke nodded and gently inserted her finger into the wound while Lottie held it open. "I can feel some internal bleeding," she informed them.

"Okay, I need you to stitch up the artery first," Abby instructed.

Clarke carefully followed Abby's instructions. Lottie helped by holding the wound steady and wiping away any excess blood.

The rain pounded on the metal walls of the dropship, echoing through the small space with a loud, deafening sound. Everyone inside winced at the noise, but it didn't seem to bother Clarke as she methodically closes Finn's wound with Lottie's surgical thread. The smell of blood and rain mixes together in the air, creating a coppery scent that fills their nostrils. She carefully ties off the last knot, her fingers deft and practiced from years of survival training on the Ark.

 As they work together, Abby continues to guide them through each step over the radio. With each passing moment, Finn becomes more stable and his breathing becomes less labored. Finally, after what feels like hours but is only about 20 minutes in reality, Abby gives them the signal that they are finished. "Okay, you're done. Great work, everyone,"

 Clarke and the others carefully move Finn onto a makeshift bed, placing a few blankets underneath him for comfort. Raven hovers over him, checking his temperature with her hand. "He feels a little warm," Clarke reports over the radio.

"That's alright, fever sometimes accompanies a trauma," Abby responds.

"Should we give him some medicine?" Lottie asks, holding up a bottle of painkillers.

Abby considers for a moment before responding. "Yes, when he wakes up, but just one dose for now. We don't want to overwhelm his system."

Clarke nodded and took a deep breath before leaning over the patient lying on the operating table. "Firm grip on the knife?" he asked, trying to steady his nerves.

"Yes, and angle it upward and slightly to the left as it exits the rib cage. Remember, Clarke," Abby's voice crackled through the communicator, "It needs to be precise and shallow. We can't risk damaging any major blood vessels."

"How slightly?" Clarke asked again, her voice betraying his nervousness.

"3 millimeters," Abby said firmly. "Got it?"

Clarke nodded and adjusted his grip on the scalpel. "Yeah, I got it. Here goes."

"Steady hand, Clarke," Abby reminded him. "You've assisted me on trickier procedures than this. And once that knife is out, the hard part is over."

Clarke takes a deep breath and steadies herself. She carefully begins to extract the knife from Finn's chest, following Abby's instructions precisely.

Finn groans in pain as the knife is removed, his eyes fluttering open. "Uhh..." he moans, trying to move away.

"Hold him still," Clarke says firmly, keeping her grip on the knife steady.

Lottie reminds Finn, "You can't move," as she firmly grips his shoulders to keep him still.

The group holds their breath in tense anticipation as Clarke carefully removes the knife from Finn's body, inch by agonizing inch.

"Oh my gosh," Lottie gasps and quickly lets go of Finn before deliberately punching him in the face. The impact knocks him out once again.

"No!" Raven exclaims in disbelief.

"Just get it out!" Lottie pleads with regret evident on her face.

The dropship shakes violently in the storm as if it's about to split open at any moment, thunder roaring and shaking the walls. Clarke shudders as she prepares to remove the knife from Finn's chest, her fingers trembling slightly. Raven watches anxiously, her heart pounding in her chest. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead. She grips the scalpel tightly and begins to pry the knife upward, feeling the resistance against her fingers. The blade slowly emerges from the wound, inch by painful inch. Finn's eyes flicker open but he can't speak, already losing consciousness again.

Lottie gulps nervously, her eyes fixed on Clarke's trembling hands. She bites her lip, trying to stay calm. Octavia leans against the wall, fear evident on her face. Bellamy stands watch by the door, ready for anything. Outside, the rain continues to pound against the dropship like angry fists trying to break through.

Clarke grimaces as she finally manages to extract the knife from Finn's chest. Blood drips down his side, staining the blanket below him. Raven rushes forward to help her, catching the knife before it clatters to the ground. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, trying to keep herself from passing out. Lottie quickly applies pressure to the wound, her hands shaking only slightly.

As they worked, their movements became rhythmic, almost hypnotic in their precision. Yet, beneath the surface, fear simmered. One wrong move could cost Finn his life.

"How's he doing?" Lottie asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she tied off the suture.

Clarke checked Finn's vitals, her brow furrowing. "Stable, but we need to hurry."

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. They were in this together, relying on each other's strengths to navigate this terrifying ordeal.

Suddenly, Abby's voice cut through the silence. "Clarke, what's going on? Can you hear us?"

Lottie chimes in, "She did it. It's out."

Clarke responds weakly, "Okay, I'm finished." Exhaustion washed over her, but triumph surged through her veins too.

Abby asks worriedly, "Do you have anything to cover the wound?"

She reassures them by saying they'll make do, as they always do. Lottie notices that Clarke looks pale and feels warm to the touch, raising concern.

As the group takes a moment to catch their breath, Abby's words echo in Clarke's mind. She knows that Finn is in bad shape and she can't afford to waste any time. She needs to keep a close eye on him, but she also knows that she can't do it alone.

"Your mom's right, we need to give him some time," Raven says, her voice laced with concern.

"I know, I just...I need a break," Clarke responds, her shoulders slumping in exhaustion.

Lottie steps forward, placing a gentle hand on Clarke's shoulder. "We'll take care of him. You go rest for a bit."

Clarke hesitates for a moment before reluctantly agreeing. Octavia leads her away from the makeshift medical station and towards one of the bunks in the dropship. Lottie stayed behind to help Raven tend to Finn's wound.

"He'll need water when he does. Do you mind?" Clarke asked Monroe, as she had been helping Lottie by cleaning up some of the supplies.

"Sure." she said as she headed out to the water storage. 

Chapter Text

With a determined scowl, Bellamy stormed down the ladder, to the first floor, eager to clear his head and strategize. As his gaze fell upon Lottie, where she was cleaning up after all the work she and Clarke just did, her face alight with relief and hope. A sudden surge of jealousy coursed through him; he wished he could share in their moment of triumph, rather than drowning in despair.

But there was no time for self-pity. Bellamy steeled himself, pushing the emotions aside as he approached her.

"Lottie," he greeted them curtly, trying to keep the turmoil within him hidden. "I need to talk to you."

Lottie looked up, her eyes wary as she took in Bellamy's tense demeanor. "What is it?"

Bellamy hesitated, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Roma didn't make it. The grounders killed her"

A wave of shock washed over Lottie's face, her eyes widening. "No," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "Oh, no."

Bellamy watched as Lottie's composure crumbled, raw sorrow etched into every line of her face. It was a stark reminder of the stakes they were playing with - lives hanging in the balance, their fates intertwined in a delicate dance of survival.

He reached out, placing a comforting hand on Lottie's shoulder. "We are going to bring her, Mbege and Diggs' bodies back tomorrow," he said, his voice firm and resolute. 

With a solemn nod, Lottie took a deep, steadying breath, steeling herself for the task ahead. She glanced at Bellamy, whose expression was a mixture of grief and grim determination. 

"Alright," Lottie said, her voice steady and resolute. "I need to clean this up. Talk later, Bell?"

Bellamy gave her a nod and her shoulder a squeeze before stepping back to head back to the second floor, allowing Lottie to turn her attention back to her station. 

"Clarke!" Raven yelled, her voice shaking slightly. "We've got a situation—Finn's seizing."

Lottie nodded, her heart racing as she took in the urgency of the situation. She glanced at Raven, who had a hold of Finn, her face a mask of focused determination. There was no time to waste.

"On my way. He was fine," Clarke called out, rushing back to the med-station. "Get my mother on the radio now. Raven, now!"

"The radio's dead! Interference from the storm." Raven said, as she messed with the knobs on the radio. "Please don't let him die." she was muttering under her breath.

Lottie had taken Raven's place holding on to Finn, trying make sure he didn't hit his head. "Okay. It's stopped." She moved to try and reposition him. "Quick, help me get him on his side. Raven, there is fluid in his lungs. He could choke. Quick."

"He's burning up," Raven commented as she helped Lottie move him on his side. "Wait, fluid in his lungs, does that mean the knife hit something?"

"This isn't blood. It's something else." Clarke said, trying to get a closer look, "I did I did everything she told me. I've seen this before. Shortness of breath. Fever. Seizing. It's poison."

"Clarke, we sterilized everything. I watched you do it." Raven said.

"Not everything. Stay here." Clarke said, grabbing the knife that the grounder had used on Finn. With the knife in hand, Clarke headed up the ladder to the second floor, as the others stayed down to deal with Finn. "They locked the hatch," Clarke pounded on the hatch to the second floor. "Hey! Open the door!" she let out a final yell, before they finally let her in.

“Clarke! He's getting worse!"

"He's not breathing," Raven yelled from across the room, her panic rising.

Lottie's hands shook as she performed CPR on Finn, her mind racing with panic and fear. She could feel Raven's eyes on her, watching her every move as they struggled to save their friend. 

"Come on, Finn. Breathe," Lottie murmured, willing him to fight through the poison that was coursing through his body. "We need you here." 

Raven's voice broke through the tense silence in the room. "He's not breathing." 

Lottie's heart dropped at those words, but she refused to give up. She continued with compressions as Raven moved upstairs to help Clarke.

Raven heads up to  the second floor as well, leaving Lottie with Finn. Clarke rushed back into the room with a bottle of clear liquid in her hand. 

"I found this in the grounder's pack. It should be an antidote," Clarke said, pouring some of the liquid into a syringe before frantically injecting it into Finn's arm.

They all held their breaths as they waited for a sign that it was working. Seconds felt like hours as they watched for any movement from Finn, until finally his chest rose and fell with a gasp.

"He's breathing!" Raven exclaimed, relief flooding through her voice.

"We did it," Raven said, her voice filled with awe and exhaustion. "We actually did it."

Lottie smiled, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. "We did," she agreed.

The rain outside had not let up at all since they had all gathered in the dropship. The sound of it pounding against the metal walls was almost deafening, making it hard to concentrate or think properly. As Lottie sat down next to Clarke, she leaned against a wall for support, trying to come down from the adrenalin rush. Her heart was still racing from Finn’s near miss with death. Her gaze fell upon Clarke's few medical supplies that were scattered across the floor but quickly looked away; there wasn't time to worry about organization right now. She turned her attention back towards Raven who was sitting nearby, staring at Finn with worry etched onto her features.

"Hey," Lottie began hesitantly, "We did good. He's going to be okay."

Raven nodded in agreement but didn't look away from Finn. "He should be. It's just...it's been a long day." She sighed and rubbed her eyes, trying to push back the exhaustion that was threatening to overtake her.

"Yeah," Lottie replied with a small smile, "Plus, there was something else good that came out of today."

“What?” Clarke asked.

“Nothing, just—today is the first time I’ve ever heard you say Wells’ name without looking like you want to punch a hole through a wall.”

“True,” Clarke admitted with a smile. She supposed her feelings had changed—or at least, were starting to.

“So?”

Clarke stood up and moved to fiddle with the medical tools. She hadn’t told Lottie or Raven about her dad, or the reason Wells was down here, at least not explicitly.

“There’s something else I haven’t told you. It didn’t seem important before, when we’ve just been so busy, but…” She took a breath and gave a brief account of all the Wells drama, and how he didn’t kill her dad, and how she’d been ignoring him since.

“He followed you all the way down here, to apologize for something he didn’t do?”

Clarke nodded. “The weird thing is, with everything I’ve done, I was convinced that he was the worst person, and I’ve hated him for so long. And I don’t, I don’t know how to not hate him. I was just relieved that he’d cared enough to come here after me, despite the terrible things I’ve said to him.”

“He loves you. Nothing you do or say can ever change that.”

“I know.” Clarke closed her eyes, though she was afraid of the images that she knew would emerge from the shadows. “Even when we were in stuck in that car out in the fog and I told him that I had wished to see his organs explode in space. I think there was always a part of me that still loved him. And that made the pain even worse.”

Lottie was looking at her with a mixture of pity and understanding. “It’s time to stop punishing yourself, Clarke.”

“You mean punishing him.”

“No. I mean it’s time to stop punishing yourself for loving him. It’s not a betrayal, not of your dad.”

Clarke stiffened. “You didn’t know him. You have no idea what they’d think.”

“I know he probably wanted what was best for you. And your dad was willing to do something that he knew was wrong in order to keep you safe.” She paused. “Just like Wells.”

Clarke sighed and tucked her legs up underneath her, sitting on one of the cot’s. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t know if I can fight this anymore. Hating him is exhausting. And he’s not even the one I’m mad at anymore.”

“You should talk to him.”

Clarke nodded. “I will.”

“No, I mean right now.” Lottie’s eyes were bright in the darkness of the dropship. “Go talk to him, he’s up on the third floor.”

“What? It’s late.”

“I’m sure he’s lying wide-awake, thinking about you.…”

Clarke unfolded her legs, then rose to her feet. “Fine,” she said, “if that’s what it takes to get out of this conversation.” She walked across the dropship, playfully rolling her eyes at her friend as she pulled herself up the ladder and headed to the third floor.

Chapter Text

Clarke stepped out of the communications hut, a recent addition to the camp, Wells had thought it best to start replacing tents with some more sturdy wooden structures. She headed over toward the rations hut, where she looked over the group, Lottie, Jasper, and Monty, who were working just outside of it. "Hey, have you seen Dax?"

Lottie, Monty, and Jasper were huddled around a large bin of jobi nuts, their chilled fingers working deftly to crack open the shells. The air out in the open was thin and cold, a telling of the upcoming winter. Water had already started to freeze on the chairs, and some others like Connor and Jessica had been busy scraping away at the ice with pieces of metal.

Monty looked up at Clarke, his hands stained with jobi nut residue. "Oh, he's on the meat crew today, over with Drew."

Not even with a thank you, she spun off in the direction that Monty had pointed out. "You're welcome!" Lottie shouted at her retreating figure, as Clarke waved her off.

"So did you guys talk to your parents yet?" Lottie asked, glancing at the two boys. 

"Yeah, I talked to my parents this morning," Monty shrugged, "They aren't on the first dropship down, but they should be one the one after that."  

"Mine don't even know when they get to head down," Jasper said. "Did you talk to your dad?" He asked Lottie.

"No, I get to talk to mine later, after I break the news to Roma's parents." Lottie shrugged.

"Damn," Monty said, "I forgot about that."

"Yeah, are you okay." Jasper asked.

Lottie, in the midst of cracking open another nut, paused, turned towards the dropship to see Bellamy exiting the ship. "I'll be fine when they get that grounder out of my dropship." 

"Hey, what's Bellamy planning to do with the Grounder?" Jasper asked, also looking over at Bellamy.

Lottie, her expression grave, thinking about the Grounder, who was still guarded on the second floor of the dropship. "Hopefully killing him."

Monty let out a sigh, glancing over to the drop ship. "I don't want to think about it. There's enough going on already."

Jasper shivered, his attention momentarily diverted. "Besides, I heard that the Grounder's friends might come looking for him. We should be prepared."

Lottie playfully smacked Jasper's arm, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Cheer up, Jasper. By then, we'll all be dead from hypothermia."

Monty chuckled, shaking his head. He picked up a jobi nut, examining it closely before popping it into his mouth. With a gleam in his eye, he aimed another nut directly at Jasper's open mouth. When the throw was successful, the two exchanged a secret handshake, their laughter echoing lightly around the camp.

"You think these nuts are high in protein?" Jasper asked, holding one up to the light. "They don't look like the ones we had on the Ark."

"Nothing looks like it did on the Ark," Monty replied, his voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. "But hey, at least we're not eating algae paste anymore."

Lottie snorted. "Small mercies." She cracked open another nut, her fingers stained with the oily residue, before popping one in her mouth.

As she chewed thoughtfully on another mouthful of nutty goodness—slightly bitter but surprisingly satisfying—she felt someone tap her shoulder from behind. "Hey Lottie," Connor said.

"What's going on?" Lottie asked, turning to look at him. The two boys next to them of them continued cracking open jobi nuts, their fingers growing more stained by the minute.

"It's time for Roma's mom to talk to you," he said.

"Lottie..." Monty began, but she cut him off with a sharp look.

Taking a deep breath, she rose from her seat, her hands trembling slightly as she brushed the jobi nut shells off of her clothes. "I'll be right back," she said, forcing a brave smile on her face, and heading over to the communications hut.

Lottie took a deep breath before entering the communications hut, trying to steady herself before the call. In the center stood a rickety table, the radio perched precariously on top, its wires snaking across the surface like tentacles.

Settling into one of the chairs from the dropship that had been pulled out. Lottie messed with the TV like radio. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself, before pressing the button to open the channel.

"This is Lottie Isaac. Are you there?" Her voice was steadier than she felt.

There was a crackle of static, then a woman's face appeared on screen as the video link flickered to life, revealing a tear-streaked face. Roma's mother, Ms. Braggs. It was clear to see where Roma had gotten her looks from, as even crying her mother was just as pretty as her daughter

Lottie swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry to say this, but Roma is… she’s gone.”

Ms. Braggs stumbled for words, "Did.. was…?" she tried to choke out, gripping the edge of the console. "Was she in pain, or…?"

Lottie said, her voice steady as she broke the news. "No Ma’am, it was all fairly quick."

As the woman nodded distractedly, Lottie's own eyes tried welled up, “We were able to lay her to rest here at our camp, like that old Earthen tradition When you come down on the Dropship, I would be able to show you.”

“That would mean a lot to me,” Ms. Braggs replied, forcing a smile through her tears, before hastily ending the call.

When the call ended, Lottie took a deep breath before initiating another link on the radio. This time, she connected with her father. His face filled the screen, lines of worry etched into his features. "Hey, hon," he said with a small smile. "How's life on Earth treating you?"

Lottie forced herself to return the smile. She couldn't bear to share the grim details with her dad, especially knowing that he was already struggling with his own responsibilities back on the Ark.

"We're managing," she replied vaguely. “The camp is set up, and we’re all pitching in.”

Her father's brow furrowed in concern. "And the others? I had heard that the Murphy kid was down there as well, is he doing okay down there?"

Lottie hesitated for a moment before deciding to focus on the positives. She didn't want to burden her father with any more worries. "Yeah, you know John," she said, trying to sound optimistic. "He’s still getting up to his usual antics."

Her dad's expression softened at this news. "That's good to hear," he said with a hint of pride in his voice. "It sounds like you're all getting along down there."

Lottie felt a pang of guilt at not being completely honest with her father, but she knew that just couldn’t stress out her father informed about their situation would only worry him more.

"Dad. Really. I promise everything will be okay.” She reassured him, knowing that it was also a reassurance for herself.

They exchanged some more small talk before ending the call. As soon as it was over, Lottie let out a sigh of relief mixed with sadness.

Lottie felt a sudden rush of cold air as she exited the communication hut, and headed back over to where Monty and Jasper had moved into the Ration hut.  

The ration hut had been one of Wells' creations, constructed from salvaged materials from the dropship - bits of metal siding that had been painted different colors, meshed together under an uneven roofline made from branches tied together with twine. Despite its crude appearance, it served its purpose well enough; providing much needed shelter from the weather outside.

The camp was alive with activity, the sound of voices and footsteps echoing through the maze of tents and makeshift shelters. People bustled about their tasks, gathering food, tending to the fires, and repairing equipment.

As Lottie made her way back to the ration hut after speaking with her father, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The world around her seemed to shift and sway, as if it was a dream or a memory. She knew it wasn't just exhaustion causing these strange sensations; there was something more going on. She could feel her emotions 

Monty leaned heavily against a crate, his legs sprawled out on the ground, as Lottie sat down with them. Jasper lay on his back in front of them, staring up at the ceiling made of rough wooden beams. The crate that Monty was sitting against was filled with protein packs and nuts that they had portioned into empty canisters that had been filled with various things from the Ark at one point.

"Oh my god," Monty exclaimed, breathing heavily. 

"What?" Jasper asked him, propping himself up on one elbow. 

"Earth is...scary," Monty said, a mixture of awe and excitement in his voice. "But it's also amazing. The fresh air, the trees, the nuts...they taste better than anything I've ever had." 

Lottie nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'd give anything for a giant hug from Earth right now." 

Jasper rolled his eyes, and chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Earth doesn't need hugs, you guys do." 

Monty grinned, a dreamy look in his eye. "I feel weird, but in a good way." He took a deep breath of the Earth-scented air and let out a contented sigh. 

Lottie sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "Sorry, I just...I don't feel so good." 

Jasper furrowed his brow in concern. "You don't look too good." 

As the three friends continued to chat, their conversation drifted towards the Jobi nuts they had been eating earlier. Jasper, who had eaten a particularly large handful, began to cough uncontrollably.

"What's wrong with you?" Lottie asked, rushing over to his side.

As Jasper rushed off to the bathroom, Lottie's sobs grew louder and more uncontrollable. The strange sensation of time slowing down intensified, making her feel like she was stuck in a loop.

Monty, feeling overwhelmed by Lottie's breakdown, decided to leave the hut in search of something to calm her down.

Heading inside another tent, Monty found Finn and Raven, the former shouting at him, "Get out of here, Monty!"

Raven furrowed her brow in concern. "What do you mean?"

"It feels like everything is...slowing down," Monty explained.

Raven's eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god...it's happening to everyone."

"Monty? Are you okay?" Raven asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The chaos only grew as more and more people succumbed to the strange effects. Panic spread like wildfire, with some people screaming and running in circles, while others collapsed in a daze.

Raven rushed back to Finn, "Something's wrong. We have to do something."

Finn and Raven were trying to keep order amidst the chaos.

Monty shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "I don't know...there's something...weird happening."

Just then, Miller stumbled over to them, looking just as disoriented as Monty. "What's happening?" he asked groggily.

"It's the food, I think," Raven guessed uncertainly. "Maybe they're causing some kind of strange effect?"

Panicked shouts and cries could be heard throughout the camp as people began to experience the same sensations as Monty and Miller.

Outside, Finn and Raven were trying to keep the situation under control. Raven approached a delirious Jasper, who in his paranoid state, continued to spiral, convinced that there were Grounders lurking around every corner. Raven tried her best to calm him down, but he was too far gone.

"We have to get out of here!" Jasper exclaimed frantically. "They're going to attack us!"

"Jasper hey, it's just me," Raven said softly, touching her arm.

Jasper spun around, her eyes wide with terror. "They're here, Raven! We need to run!"

Finn watched the scene unfold, his jaw clenched. He knew they had to do something before things escalated further. He spotted the remaining jobi nuts scattered on the ground and stomped on them, grinding them into the earth.

"What are you doing?" Raven asked, alarmed.

"Containing the problem," Finn replied, dusting off his hands.

Finn reached out a hand, stopping her. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "We're taking care of it."

Lottie sniffed, wiping away her tears. "What's happening?" she asked.

"We think the nuts we ate might have caused some sort of hallucinogenic reaction," Raven explained quickly.

Lottie's eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god...I feel like I'm in a dream."

"We need to get everyone to stop eating the nuts and find a way to counteract the effects," Finn said determinedly.

Octavia slipped out of the drop ship, her eyes scanning the area for any signs of trouble. Jasper was asleep, clutching the anti-Grounder stick she had given him. Monty was sitting nearby, looking dazed and confused.

"Hey, Monty," Octavia greeted him, forcing a smile. "Did you have a rough night?"

Monty blinked, then nodded. "I think I ate a pine cone because it told me to."

Octavia chuckled weakly. "Yeah, something like that."

She sat down next to him and scanned their surroundings once again. The chaos from earlier seemed to have died down now that Finn and Raven were containing the problem with the jobi nuts.

"Do you know what's going on?" Monty asked after a moment of silence.

Octavia sighed and shook her head. "Not exactly. But it seems like the jobi nuts we ate might have caused some sort of hallucinogenic reaction."

Suddenly, Miller shouted from the direction of the drop ship. "The Grounder's gone!"

A ripple of fear spread through the camp. Bellamy's voice boomed over the others, his tone unyielding. "Let them come. We're not afraid anymore."

With Clarke at his side, Bellamy revealed the rifles they had acquired. Clarke spoke to the anxious crowd, her voice steady and firm. "These are weapons, not toys. We'll have to give them up when the drop ships come, but until then, they will help keep us safe."

“Hold it, everyone,” a voice rang out over the crowd. Bellamy glanced up as Wells reached the tree line. “We can’t just let random people carry weapons. We need to sort and organize these, and then decide who should have them.”

“We’re organizing it Wells,” Clarke said with a roll of her eyes.

A flurry of snorts and defiant glares rose up from the crowd. “Bellamy tried to kill my father,” Wells went on, pointing at Bellamy, who’d already had a gun strapped over his shoulder. “Who knows what else he’s capable of. You want someone like him walking around carrying a deadly weapon?” Wells raised his chin. “We should at least put it to a vote.”

Bellamy couldn’t help but laugh. Who the hell did this kid think he was, anyway? He reached down, picked a gun up off the ground, and began walking toward Wells. Wells stood his ground, and Bellamy wondered if he was trying not to flinch, or if maybe Wells was less of a pushover than Bellamy had thought. Just when it seemed like he might try to shoot Wells in the chest, Bellamy flipped the weapon so that the handle faced Wells, and pushed it into his hand. “Breaking news, Chancellor.” Bellamy winked. “We’re all criminals here.”

Bellamy added, "There are more where these came from. Training starts tomorrow. If the Grounders attack, we'll be ready."

But before he had time to respond, Finn moved over. As he looked from Wells to Bellamy to Clarke, a uneasy smile flickered across his face. “I agree with the right honorable mini-Chancellor,” Finn said. “We should lock up the weapons, not hand them out.”

Clarke took a step back. “We aren’t handing them out. These aren’t toys, Finn.”

“Maybe you can be a pacifist, but I’m tired of waiting for these grounders to come and pick us off one by one. I’m ready to hunt them down.” Bellamy ran his finger along the the gun, as he handed the gun off to Clarke.

Connor snorted, stepping up to join the argument. “And what exactly did you hunt back on the Ark except for girls with low standards and even lower self-esteem?” 

Bellamy stiffened but didn’t say anything. It was a waste of time to rise to Connor’s bait, but he could feel his fingers clenching. “Or maybe you don’t even have to chase after them,” Connor continued. “I suppose that’s the benefit to having a sister.”

With a sickening crunch, Bellamy’s fist sank into Connor’s jaw. Connor staggered back a few steps, too stunned to raise his arms before Bellamy landed another punch. Then he righted himself and struck Bellamy with a powerful, well-aimed shot to the chin.

Bellamy lunged forward with a growl, using his whole body weight to send Connor flying backward. He landed on the grass with a heavy thud, but just when Bellamy was about to deliver a swift kick, Connor rolled to the side and knocked Bellamy’s legs out from under him.

Bellamy thrashed around, trying to sit up in time to gain leverage over his opponent, but it was too late. Connor had him pinned to the ground.

“That’s enough,” Wells shouted. He grabbed Connor by the collar and flung him off Bellamy, who rolled over onto his side, wheezing.

“What the hell?” Connor bellowed, scrambling to his feet.

Bellamy winced as he rose onto his knees and then slowly stood up and walked over to pick up the bow. He shot a quick glance at Connor, who was too busy glaring at Wells to notice.

“Just because the Chancellor used to tuck you into bed doesn’t mean you’re automatically in charge,” Connor spat. “I don’t care what Daddy told you before we left.”

“I have no interest in being in charge. I just want to make sure we don’t die.” Wells exchanged a glance with Finn.

“Guys this isn’t how we’re going to do things here,” Clarke said, barging her way into the fight.

The group were gathered around the fire. "We need to decide who gets a gun and who doesn't," Jasper's voice broke through the tension in the air.

Bellamy nodded in agreement. "We need to be prepared for any attacks from Grounders or other threats we might face."

Clarke countered, "But giving out guns willy-nilly isn't the solution. We need to train everyone on how to use them safely and responsibly."

"And what about personal defense? We don't know when or if we'll have access to more weapons," argued Finn.

Connor chimed in, "Maybe you could just ask your mom to defend you." His voice dripped with sarcasm. 

The other members of the group looked at one another. After a few moments of silence, Wells cleared his throat.

"I think Clarke has a good point," he said, surprising everyone. "We need to focus on training and making sure everyone understands the gravity of using weapons. But as for who gets them, let's draw straws."

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the group, and they began to divide into smaller groups with their own discussions about who should be armed and why. As they talked, Finn moved closer to Clarke, his eyes flicking between the sky above and the horizon in front of them.

"You know," he said quietly, "We might not need guns if we can just figure how to get along with them."

Clarke raised an eyebrow at Finn as if he had lost his mind again but decided not to dispute with him further. 

Instead she turned back towards their surroundings trying hard not show any signs of frustration over Finn's suggestion .