❝you know, the last time i was in germany and saw a man standing above everyone else, we ended up disagreeing.❞

-steve rogers, the avengers

♛

MY STOMACH TWISTS WITH anxiety as I watch Finn tighten the vine for the fiftieth time. The only way to Mount Weather is across a deep river, and since we can't swim across it, Finn gave us the ingenious idea of swinging across. I'll admit that this is the last thing I thought I'd be doing on Earth. However, I had yearned for adventure, and now I'm getting it, so I'm not going to complain.

"You wanted to go first, now quit stalling." Clarke raises her eyebrows expectantly, amused at Finn's sudden nervousness. She chuckles at the fact that he's trying to hide the fact that he's afraid. "Mount Weather awaits!"

Jasper stands next to Finn and gives him pointers quietly. "Just hang on till the apogee, and you'll be fine."

Finn stops messing with the vine and turns to him with confusion in his eyes. "The apogee, like, the Indians, right?"

Jasper looks like Finn has just compared an apple to a watermelon. He blinks. "Apogee, not Apache."

"He knows," Clarke dismisses exasperatedly. "Today, Finn."

He salutes her, holding the vine with one hand and the other raised to his forehead. "Aye, aye, Captain." Then he turns to Jasper, who bounces with nerves and keeps glancing at Octavia. "See you on the other side."

At the last second before Finn swings across, Jasper stops him. "Wait."

Finn grunts and skids to a stop, preventing his gained momentum from swinging him across the water. by digging his heels into the rock. "What?"

After giving Octavia another glance, Jasper says, "Let me." Finn hesitates. The young boy's voice becomes tinged with confidence. "I can do it."

Finn hands him the vine and pats his shoulder proudly. "Knew there was a badass in there somewhere."

Jasper clings tightly to the climbing plant and notices for the first time how far he'll have to swing. The current in the water. The fact that none of us can swim. All the excitement melts into nerves, and his breath turns shallow, brown eyes going wide so the whites around his irises are extremely visible.

"Hey, it's okay to be afraid, Jasper," Finn coaxes gently. "The trick is not fighting it."

"You can do it, Jasper!" I encourage, noting that he probably needs it to calm his nerves. "Just don't lose your goggles on the way across."

He glares at me playfully, not pleased. "Thanks. I'll try not to." Turning to Finn, he gives him a nod. "See you on the other side."

Jasper takes a few deep breaths, moves back a bit, pulls his legs up, and swings. He screams the whole way across, his whoops echoing through the forest. My heart hammers with nerves.

"Uh oh." At first I may think he'll miss, but he nails the landing and rolls, looking dazed. All of us rush to the edge of the rocks as the vine swings back across. Finn catches it, though his attention is still on the boy across the water from us.

Jasper stands, a look of awe on his face as he realizes that he made it. He raises his arms above his head, pumping his fists with each syllable. "WE ARE APOGEE!"

We all cheer in response, praising him for his bravery. I don't know who's more excited– Jasper or us. He jumps around merrily, making us laugh at his antics. He's utterly adorable.

"My turn," I say, pressing my lips together and turning to Finn.

"You sure?" Clarke asks. There's an unsure crease between her eyebrows. Honestly, she should know me better by now– I've always been the more reckless out of the pair of us.

"Hey, if the nerdy, scrawny kid with goggles can do it, then so can I," I say jokingly. Finn laughs and passes the vine to me.

"You got this, Fallon!" Jasper motivates loudly from across the river, still jumping around. "Whoo! Apogee!"

I get a firm grip on the vine, ready to swing, when I notice Jasper looking in the dirt. He picks up a dilapidated sign and reads it, jaw dropping open. "We did it!" When he holds it above his head, we are all able to read what the dirt-covered paper says. "Mount Weather!"

"Yeah, Jasper!" Finn shouts in praise, followed by several yesses from Monty.

"Here I go." Readjusting my grip on the vine, I jump up and tuck my legs in.

And watch Jasper get speared in the chest.

"Woah, woah, woah," Finn gasps. Everyone rushes forward to grab me before I'm able to swing far. I am frozen in shock, eyes wide in horror as Jasper's body flies back several feet into a tree, landing at the base of the trunk. His eyes are wide and he isn't moving.

"Jasper?" I call anxiously as Monty helps me down, gripping onto me tightly. I can't tear my eyes away from his unmoving body. "Jasper!"

"No!" Clarke shouts, horror evident on her paling face.

"Get down! Get down!" Finn hisses, waving us over. We all scurry to a ridge in the rock and try to find what hit our friend. My eyes dart around so quickly that I begin to feel dizzy, heart hammering in my chest. There is nothing but rustling in the trees. Whoever had hit him had concealed themselves perfectly. 

Clarke's mouth is open in a gape as she gasps, "We're not alone."

There's no way around this. We have no choice but to run back the way we came and hope not to get killed on the way. I follow Octavia as Monty leads, Clarke and Finn behind us. We dodge trees and rocks as we sprint through the forest, trying to be moving targets so we aren't easy to pick off. I can't even feel the pain of my leg anymore from the adrenaline and constant replay in my head of the spear going through Jasper's chest.

Up ahead, Monty trips and face-plants in the ground, staring in terror at the skeletal remains of a body just inches from his nose. It seems like ever since the river monster had attacked, the true colors of Earth are revealing themselves one by one. It may not be the safe haven we'd anticipated.

"C'mon, Monty, get up!" Octavia grabs his arm while Finn gets the other. They both try to haul him to his feet. It takes a while since he's immobile from shock, still keeping his widened eyes on the bones edged in the dirt.

"Who are they?" Finn asks breathlessly. His long hair is unkempt and falling in his face, but he makes no attempt to brush it away.

I pick up a misshapen skull and examine it before passing it to Clarke. A chill passes down my spine. My mind is whirling with both the desire to go after Jasper but also to keep running. The two options war for dominance in my brain, testing my morals. It makes me begin to feel nauseous.

Octavia pants heavily, still holding onto Monty as if her life depends on it. Her face shows all signs of absolute fear. "We are so screwed."

A pained scream reverberates through the woods, its origin back by the river. The skull falls from Clarke's hands as recognition passes over her face.

"Jasper," she gasps. "He's alive."

Without a second thought, Clarke and I both begin to dart back the way we came, feet sliding on the loose dirt. It's clear which side has won the battle inside of my head. Save our new friend whatever way we can.

"Clarke, Fallon! Wait!" Finn shouts, trying to grab us before we can make it far. He and the others follow behind us as we run. "Wait!" He pushes us down before we come out of the forest. My hands barely catch my fall. "Stay under the trees."

To all of our horrors, the spot where Jasper previously lay is devoid of his body. The Mount Weather sign is overturned on the ground.

"N-No," I stammer, searching frantically. "He was right there!"

"Where is he?" Monty asks, fearing the worst. I can only imagine what he must be going through- he and Jasper seem to have known each other for a long time. What would I feel if it was Clarke in his place?

My best friend's eyes go wide in realization. "They took him."

The camp is a mess when we arrive. Wells has Murphy in a headlock, holding a knife to his throat. A dense crowd has gathered around them and is cheering the two boys on. Varying shouts of encouragement fill the air. Bellamy stands a few feet away with a smug expression on his face, and something tells me he had something to do with this.

But I'm a bit surprised, because whatever gel had been in Bellamy's hair before has completely vanished. Wildly unkempt curls have replaced what were once slicked-back strands. Instead of his full guard uniform, he wears only a blue shirt and the same black pants as before. The look suits him much better.

Clarke breaks through the trees first with Finn and Octavia. "Wells, let him go!"

Wells shoves Murphy to the ground harshly, but the boy retaliates quickly and tries to jump up. He swings his arms around like a crazed animal of some sort. Whatever the brawl had been about, he seems to be hell-bent on bringing harm to the Chancellor's son.

"Woah, hey!" Bellamy steps between the two and grabs the boy's shoulders, looking at him sternly. "Enough, Murphy."

His eyes drift from the kid to his sister. His eyes automatically fill with concern as he rushes to her and takes her from the others. "Octavia! Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she murmurs in reply, though her cringe of pain betrays her words.

Bellamy looks around and notices our group is empty-handed. Confusion wrinkles his brow. "Where's the food?"

Finn sits down on a log with his eyes on the ground. He folds his hands and leans his elbows on his knees nervously. "We never made it to Mount Weather."

"What the hell happened out there?" Bellamy demands as his dark eyes flicker between the members of our group. His tone is accusatory, but also filled with alarm.

Monty and I enter the camp and he helps me down the steep slope, our feet sliding on the loose soil. He'd swung one of my arms around his shoulders while one of his gripped my waist tightly. I'll admit– it did take pressure off of my leg, which made walking less painful.

"We were attacked," I reply breathlessly. My arms release Monty and I'm careful to lean all my weight on my good leg. Now that the adrenaline has dispersed, the shooting pain is catching up to me.

Bellamy notices the connection between mine and Octavia's wounds and pinches his eyebrows together further, but says nothing.

"Attacked?" Wells questions. His face is now crumpled with alarm. "By what?"

"Not what," Finn corrects. "Who. It turns out, when the last man from the ground died on the Ark, he wasn't the last Grounder."

"It's true," Clarke confirms, her breathing unsteady as her eyes shift between different people. "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong. There are people here- survivors."

I grit my teeth and take a step forward. "That means the radiation can't kill us."

"Yeah," Finn cuts in, "but the bad news is that the Grounders will."

Wells looks around, eyes slightly wide as he realizes that a member of our group is missing. "Where's the kid with the goggles?"

Clarke looks sadly at him as she replies, "Jasper was hit. They took him."

Wells glances down at his wrist. I notice it's completely bare. "Wells, where is your wristband?"

He nods sharply toward Bellamy, jaw clenched in anger. "Ask him."

Clarke takes a step toward him with her face a mask of wrath. Her eyes are ablaze with such fire it both impresses and terrifies me. "How many?"

"Twenty-four and counting," Murphy replies proudly as he cleans his knife with a ratty cloth. A smirk pulls up his split lip and his eyes flicker up to view our enraged expressions with amusement.

Clarke stares incredulously at him. "You idiots. Life support on the Ark is failing. That's why they brought us down here. They need to know the ground is survivable again, and we need their help against whoever is out there. If you take off your wristbands, you're not just killing them. You're killing us."

Bellamy raises a challenging eyebrow and faces the crowd. "We're stronger than you think. Don't listen to her. She's one of the Privileged. If they come down, she'll have it good. How many of you can say the same? We can take care of ourselves."

"'We can take care of ourselves?'" I repeat, stalking toward Bellamy and wincing slightly at the pain it brings. "How many of you know how to correctly remove a knife from someone's body, should one of us get stabbed? How many of you, save Monty, know the difference between a poisonous berry and a safe one? How many of you know how to make protective armor? We need the people up there just as much as they need us."

Bellamy stares at me for a moment as if he didn't expect me to cut in. But soon he shakes his head and points to the people. "That wristband on your arm? It makes you a prisoner. We are not prisoners anymore! They say you'll forgive your crimes. I say you're not criminals! You're fighters, survivors! The Grounders should worry about us!"

Clarke and I are losing the battle. Bellamy receives many cheers of agreement from the rest of the crowd. I have to admit, he's a great speaker. He knows what the people's weaknesses are and uses them to his advantage.

However, when I open my mouth to say something, Clarke grabs my arm and shakes her head somberly. "We tried."

"Clarke," I whisper with my eyebrows pinched together, "we can't just let him—"

"Fallon," she warns harshly. I fall silent at her fierce tone. "Let them listen to him. It's their faults."

I sigh and reluctantly obey her order. Even so, I shake off her grip on my forearm. I could fight with Bellamy all day if it meant I could have the last word.

Monty approaches us with a troubled expression on his face. He's been quiet this entire time, seemingly not fond of arguments.

"What do we do now?" he asks nervously.

Clarke's voice is certain. "Now we go after Jasper."

—

Later that day, Clarke is busy in the dropship gathering supplies for our trip. Outside, I utilize the open platform as a table, using the charcoal and ruler to map out where Jasper was hit. I place an X over the spot, draw a river where Octavia and I were hurt, and make a skull where we saw the bodies. I fold the map when I'm finished and place the charcoal and ruler in my back pocket. Pulling out my notebook and pen, I write a quick but detailed summary of the past day and a half we've spent on the ground, and complete it with the date.

"Fallon!"

I turn to see Octavia waving me over. Bellamy kneels in front of her, binding her wound with a new cloth. Though I'm confused, I make my way over to them and refuse to meet eyes with her brother. There's still tension between us after our power struggle.

"What the hell was it?" he demands to me, referring to the thing that attacked us. I refrain from acknowledging how his muscles show through his clothing at this angle.

"The others said it looked like a giant snake," I answer more calmly. "Its teeth were sharp and had a pretty good grip on us. It was insanely fast, too."

Bellamy finishes tying off the cloth on Octavia's leg and reaches out to mine. "Let me see yours."

I recoil away from him, skeptical at his offer. He had just been arguing with me and now he wants to help? "Why?"

He looks me in the eye with a hard expression. "Let me see it."

Sighing, I pull up my pant leg and show him the teeth marks on my calf. Dried blood is crusted around the wound, where the tourniquet managed to somewhat cut off the bleeding. I cringe at the sight of the bitten flesh and the pain that still pulses from it.

Curiosity filling his dark eyes, Bellamy grabs hold of my leg, almost causing me to fall over. He compares the wound to Octavia's. "This one looks like teeth, no doubt," he says as his eyes shift back and forth between our injuries. "Octavia's seems more like claws."

"So maybe it wasn't a snake," I muse. Bellamy looks up at me and nods in agreement, eyebrows creased as he mentally mulls over the possibilities.

"Well, whatever it was, it was pretty damn scary." Octavia pulls away from her brother and starts to roll her pant leg down.

"You could've been killed," Bellamy says sternly to us, but more to his sister than me.

"Octavia would've if Jasper didn't jump in to pull her out," Clarke informs as she appears behind us with Wells in tow. The latter glares at the older man with hatred in his eyes.

"And you?" Bellamy asks me, noticing that Clarke only said Octavia's name and not mine.

"Jasper could only grab one," I explain. "I tried to swim and Finn was the one to actually get me out."

Octavia tightens the cloth around her thigh. "You guys leaving?" She starts to stand. "I'm coming too."

Bellamy uses his hand to push her back down onto the log. "No, no. No way. Not again."

"He's right," Clarke says to Octavia. "Your leg's just gonna slow us down. You stay too, Fallon."

"To hell I am!" I exclaim, surprised she expects me to stay. I know what a terrible wound looks like. Mine isn't drastic by any means. "I'm coming and you have no choice but to let me. And, besides, my wound isn't as bad as hers. I'll keep up."

Clarke presses her lips together. She knows that arguing with me will only turn out to be pointless, or if she makes me stay, I'll just sneak out after them anyway. "Fine." She turns to Bellamy and her expression turns hard, any of the softness she'd used with me vanishing. "I'm here for you."

"Clarke, what are you doing?" Wells asks tensely, obviously not fond of Bellamy tagging along.

She ignores him. "I hear you have a gun."

Instead of answering, Bellamy lifts up his shirt, revealing the gun that's tucked into his pants and also his tanned skin. I avert my eyes quickly.

"Good," Clarke comments shortly, then starts to walk away.

"Wait." Bellamy grabs another piece of cloth on the log beside Octavia and turns to me. He reaches out toward my leg, but I flinch back. I don't trust him. A flicker of amusement lurks in his eyes, but it disappears so quickly that I think I may have imagined it. "Relax. I'm just trying to help."

Reluctantly, I allow him to untie the now-bloody scrap of Monty's shirt and replace it with the new, clean cloth. He tightens it and uses a damp towel to gently wipe the blood off the wound. My breath hitches when he hits a particularly tender spot. In response, he lightens his touch and soaks the blood up more gently. When he finishes, I quickly pull the fabric back down, half flustered and half angry.

He stands up and pretends to dust off his hands. "You were right— it's not as bad as Octavia's. You'll be fine."

I'm confused as to why he's being semi-nice all of a sudden. We're obviously on completely different terms when it comes to how to run the camp, but Clarke doesn't give me a lot of time to dwell on it.

"Follow me," she orders. She appears bothered, but I know it's not because of Jasper. It's something else.

Bellamy turns around to face her, quirking his eyebrow. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you want them to follow you," she responds, motioning to the others in the camp who are watching intently. "And right now, they're thinking only one of us is scared."

She walks away and I trail behind, but not before shooting Bellamy a sour expression. He may have helped to patch my wound, but I still don't trust him. He hasn't given me a reason to yet.

Wells and Clarke lead us, while Bellamy and the imbecile, Murphy, follow quite a bit behind. I stay smack in the middle, drawing quick sketches of the plants I see in the margins of my notebook. Surprisingly, they don't look half bad considering I'm walking on uneven ground. I add in notes along with the pictures and that I'm seeing them as we're going to save Jasper.

"Might want to watch your step," Bellamy calls from the back of our group. I see a large rock coming up out of the corner of my eye and step right over it while still drawing.

"Worried about me, King of the Jungle?" I taunt back, not lifting my head.

I hear Bellamy scoff. I smirk.

--

"Hey, hold up!" Bellamy shouts from the end of the group, walking through the trees instead of on the path to catch up. He has his gun casually in his hand. "What's the rush? You don't survive a spear through the heart."

"Put the gun away, Bellamy," Wells orders cautiously.

Murphy, ever the faithful little bodyguard, puts his hand on Wells's chest and shoves him back. "Well, why don't you do something about it, huh?"

"Jasper screamed when they moved him," Clarke argues. "If the spear struck his heart, he'd have died instantly."

"It was on the opposite side of his chest," I add, then realize something. The spear was thrown with pinpoint accuracy from thirty yards away. If they wanted to kill him, they would've. My voice drops to a whisper. "They didn't want to kill him..."

"It doesn't mean we have time to waste," Clarke urges, not having heard my last sentence. She turns around, but just as she takes a step, Bellamy grabs her right wrist. 

"As soon as you take this wristband off, we can go," he taunts with his voice low.

"Let her go!" I command, but Murphy takes hold of my arm as well. I sneer at him even as he lifts his lips in an amused grin and tightens his grip.

"I don't think so."

Clarke rips her hand away, livid. "The only way the Ark will think I'm dead, is if I'm dead. Got it?"

I narrow my eyes at Bellamy, pulling my lips into a frown. "If you thought that getting on my good side would coax me into giving you my wristband" - I grab Murphy's arm, twist it around, and hold him in a painful headlock - "you obviously don't know me."

Murphy lets out a cry of pain, and I take that as my cue to release him. He falls to the ground like a rag doll. When he hops back up again, he sends me a fierce glare that I don't hesitate to return.

"My mom is a nurse," I fire at him. "I know how to make you hurt."

Partially true. Since I'd been on the road to starting an apprenticeship in Medical before I was arrested, I spent my free time reading my mother's electronic files on pressure points.

"Brave princesses," Bellamy taunts with an annoying smirk on his annoyingly attractive face.

I hear Finn's voice coming from behind the boys. "Hey, why don't you find your own nickname?" Bellamy turns around to face Finn as he walks right past us. "You call this a rescue party? We've got to split up, cover more ground. Clarke, come with me."

She doesn't hesitate in following him. Soon they're far ahead as if propelled by some unseen force. I sigh, grumbling at the fact that they left Wells and I with Bellamy and Murphy.

Bellamy tucks his gun into his back pocket as he walks, the rest of us taking that as a sign to follow. I want to stay behind him so I can keep an eye on that weapon. Him flaunting it earlier means that he's trying to remind us that he's dangerous. 

A few minutes later, I notice Wells staring sadly at Clarke and Finn up ahead and nudge him with a frown. "I'm sorry, Wells."

He looks at me in bewilderment. "You knew?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "I've watched you love Clarke for as long as you knew what love is." I smile softly at him. "Don't worry; your secret's safe with me."

"It seems you know everything about me, but I don't know anything about you," Wells muses.

Guilt swarms within me at that statement. I had spent so long distancing myself from him in fear he'd learn of my crimes and tell his father. However, this is a new life. The ground is giving us a chance to change things.

Maybe I'll start doing that with Wells.

____

fallon is my spirit animal and u cannot make me think otherwise

also hey whaddya know?? the first fallon x bellamy moment! they need a ship name. fallamy? bellon? #strugglesofcomingupwithshipnames

(i made the gif above. you're welcome)

~kristyn