❝hearts are breakable.❞

-isabelle lightwood, the mortal instruments

♛

THE RIFLE SITS COMFORTABLY in my hands as my eyes sweep around the lush green of the forest. Though I may seem calm from the outside, my brain is buzzing with nervous energy and I can barely stand still. It's taking all I have not to break through the trees and start running after the Grounders.

It's been two days and there has been no sign of a retaliation for what we did to the bridge. Not even the sounds of war horns have pierced our ears. It's beginning to make me feel uneasy, the fear of an unseen attack eating up my insides. It's part of the reason why I have my gun.

"Fallon, did you steal that gun?" Jasper questions from somewhere behind me. I don't bother to turn around.

"No," I respond coolly with no trace of a lie in my voice.

The sound of footsteps comes closer until the crunching of leaves beneath Jasper's feet are right beside me. He follows where my gaze is staring- straight ahead at the trees in the distance.

"So if I went and asked Bellamy where you got the rifle, what would he say?"

"That I stole it."

Jasper nods with his lips pulled into a line. "Thought so." There's a pause in which there's no sound but the distant mutter of campers on patrol and the wind whistling lowly in our ears. "Do you think you could help me make some more gunpowder? Raven can turn them into landmines."

I pretend to purse my lips in thought. "I guess I could do that."

A tiny smile of thanks forms on Jasper's face before he walks away, the crunching of leaves marking his retreating footsteps. I continue to stare out into the forest, but this time my eyes wander a bit. My feet seem to carry me in a small circle while my gaze swivels from tree to tree.

I'm not supposed to be on patrol - we have guards to do that - but lately people have been abandoning their posts due to the fear of a Grounder attack. It's no secret that if they come, those on patrol will be the first to die. I'm willing to take that risk to protect the others in our camp.

Shouts from inside the walls cause me to nearly jump out of my skin due to how tense I had been. My finger immediately grazes the trigger on pure instinct before I realize that they're not coming from out here. I think I hear the word "fire," somewhere in the mix.

With the gun cradled in my arms, I break into a sprint past the other guards and through the gate. The first thing I smell is burning wood and meat that hits my nose hard. A blazing orange light captures my attention; I run a bit closer and freeze in my tracks.

The meat house is on fire. It's a poorly-made shack that housed all of our meat so we could dry it, and every last edible berry we had found in nearby bushes. The flames blaze high, catching on the wood and devouring it whole. There's no way we'll be able to douse the fire quickly enough to salvage anything.

"This is all your fault," Murphy growls at a boy named Del. He lunges at the boy, sending a hard right-hook to his face. "We told you that it was too much wood!"

"Get the hell away from me!" Del demands, shoving Murphy back before he can throw another punch. However, John grabs onto Del's sleeves, causing them to latch onto each other in an attempt to gain control of the fight. Bellamy lunges between them and pushes them apart.

"Hey, stop!" Bellamy uses both hands to separate them on either side of him. "Save it for the Grounders."

"Bell, now what the hell are we gonna do?" Octavia questions desperately, sweat shining on her face from the heat of the fire. Her expression looks utterly despondent. "That was all the food!"

Bellamy glances at the fire, then back at Clarke. His eyes wander around the crowd until he finds me standing toward the back with my gun still in hand.

I know what he's thinking before he says it himself.

Once the fire is out, I go back outside the walls to patrol. Rumor has it that Clarke is rounding up Finn and a couple others to make a team of hunters. I've been trying to distance myself from Finn to prevent any residual anger from resurfacing, and so far it has worked, so there's no way I'm joining that group.

"Hey, Fallon."

Right on cue.

I turn to see Clarke heaving herself up the rocky, uneven ground until she's standing right in front of me. Her eyes widen slightly when she sees the gun in my hands. "Are you on patrol?"

"Yes," I respond casually, trying my best not to glance at her team who's all ready to go at the bottom of the slope. "I can't go hunting today- I promised Jasper I'd help him make gunpowder."

Clarke nods sadly, her eyes drifting to the patches of moss at her feet. She retreats down the slope and waves her crew members along. I huff out a sigh and look down at the gun cradled in my arms like a child. My lips turn into a frown as the sharp wind dries out my eyes.

It starts to get dark more quickly than usual, meaning fall is approaching, along with winter. My jaw clenches. With a sharp turn, I twist on my heel and start down the path toward the open doors in the wall, making a beeline straight for the dropship.

I toss the gun onto a table near the entrance the instant I push the red cloth aside. This causes Monty to look up, startled. Raven barely flinches.

"What'cha guys doing?" I ask, trying not to seem utterly confused at the sight of the metal components on the table that Monty's sitting at. Wires upon wires cover the flat surface in such a fashion that I go cross-eyed if I try to follow them.

"I'm checking out the frequency," Monty explains, tapping the side of a knob with tweezers.

"I need that radio." Raven takes a step forward and reaches for it, but Monty quickly stands up to stop her.

"No way!" he protests with his eyes widened in shock.

"Isn't that our only way to contact the Ark?" I ask, stepping beside Raven to examine the barely-functional monitor. We haven't gotten it to work again since Unity Day. It's mostly still here for the reason that we all hope to reconnect with them at some point.

Raven flicks a switch on the control panel of the radio, producing nothing but airy static that sounds like wind. Monty's eyes cast down to the floor.

"The Ark's not there," Raven explains shortly. "You're listening to a hole in the sky."

She moves to unplug a part, but Monty reaches over and grabs her arm. "Hey, my family is up there."

Raven's gaze drifts to the clump of yellow wires in her hand. "I'm sorry."

I watch with an emptiness inside of me as she yanks the wires out of the panel, cutting the static off immediately. Monty sighs and ducks his head down.

Indistinct chatter arises from outside of the dropship, causing Raven's ears to perk up. She starts to walk out with a thoughtful frown on her face. I sigh and start after her, grabbing onto her sleeve and forcing her to stop.

"Hey," I say, causing her dark brown eyes to lock on mine. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she asserts with her eyes squinted. "Why?"

"Because I know that look you have on your face," I explain. "It's Finn, isn't it?"

Raven's line of vision drifts to the metal floor. A certain sadness and hostility weighs down her features so much that it's almost impossible to recognize her as the Raven that smiled when we met by the river. The Raven who said she knew my mom. The Raven who still had hope in her eyes.

"He's always around Clarke, you know?" Raven shifts her weight. "He's not the same, he's almost worried about her and it scares me." Her eyes drift up to mine again. "What if I'm losing him?"

My jaw almost drops with shock. She perfectly summed up how I used to feel about Clarke. She had spent so much time with Finn that it seemed I had just faded into background noise, like I didn't matter.

"If Finn truly loves you, he'll come back to you," I assure her. "And he does love you- I know he does. For now, just try to cool off, okay?"

Raven nods and turns around, walking out of the dropship and casting the fabric aside. I watch her retreating figure for a few seconds before turning back to Monty. He has his head buried in his hands, elbows resting on the table that's still cluttered with parts from the Exodus Ship. My feet seem to echo more loudly on the floor than usual as I walk toward him, but maybe it's because my heart feels so heavy.

"Monty, it's okay," I mutter, resting a hand on his shoulder in what I hope is a comforting manner. "We'll find another way to contact the Ark. They'll be down soon anyways, remember? We won't have to wait that long. Plus, the parts from the radio will help us make the walkie-talkies. One loss for a gain."

Monty pops his head out of his arms and runs his fingers down his face. He seems a lot more tired than usual. There are purple rings beneath his squinted eyes, a definite sign he's not getting enough sleep.

"I just want to see my family again," he sighs quietly. "You have family left to see, right?"

I loosen my grip on his shoulder, feeling as if all of the air has left my lungs. Tears threaten to build up in my eyes; I don't let them. "No."

Monty's expression fills with surprise and regret. "Fallon, I'm--"

"It's okay," I tell him through the lump building up in my throat, making it hard to speak. "It's not your fault."

Monty is at a loss for words. I can feel the room starting to suffocate me, building pressure up in my chest until I can hardly breathe. I need to get out before my brain explodes.

Whirling around faster than Monty can blink, I dart out of the dropship and suck in several huge breaths of clean air. It still smells slightly of charred wood and smoke. The tears blur my vision but I will not cry, and that is why I direct my gaze upward toward the night sky and blink them away. I used to be able to see the Ark orbiting the Earth. Now it gets lost in blurred stars.

I press my lips into a line and will the dam to mend itself. The cracks in it are deepening, and the urge to let out a sob becomes overwhelming. I find myself bouncing on my heels and smacking my cheeks lightly in order to pull myself together.

Eventually the feeling subsides and I'm able to return my line of vision to the camp instead of the sky. I notice the others from Clarke and Finn's hunting group are back, but there's no sign of either of them. I also can't find Raven.

I find Monroe by one of the fires, warming her hands. She looks up and smiles at me. It wavers a bit.

"Have you seen Clarke?" I question over the other girls by the fire. Her face drops like she'd been fearing I'd ask that.

"No," she replies with a sigh. "She hasn't come back yet, I guess. I think Bellamy's in his tent, though."

Bellamy in his tent? That's weird. He's usually the last to retreat into his at night, and the first to wake up in the morning. There's no need to be in a tent when there's still plenty to do out here.

I say a quick thanks and walk around the fire to where most of the tents are located. The depot had supplies us with more than we had to start with, but I still slept in the dropship because there still isn't enough to provide for the entire camp. Even so, the array of tents can be confusing for those who don't commit theirs to memory.

A few people are crowded around a campfire near where Bellamy's tent is located. One of the boys whistles when I walk by. When I turn to him, he looks like he's trying to conceal his laughter. "Fallon, I would not go in there if I were you."

I raise my eyebrows. "Why not?"

The group of boys look at each other and snicker. I'm still waiting for them to tell me what's so funny, but they don't seem to intend to. Whatever- it's probably just some dumb joke.

I take one step closer, and that's when a figure ducks under the flap of the tent, emerging into the night. The fire provides just enough light for me to see who it is. My heart ceases to beat.

Raven.

She hasn't noticed me yet, but that may be due to the fact that she's buttoning her pants. Her dark hair is out of it usual ponytail and cascades down her shoulders in a wild mess of tangles. A scowl is painted on her flushed face. Her head finally moves up, and that's when she sees me. Her jaw drops open a fraction of a bit. The boys behind us whoop with delight at this scene.

We stare at each other for a good five seconds filled with nothing but the sound of my organs being crushed. It hurts. If I had thought my heart was heavy before, it must weigh two tons by now.

"Fallon," Raven says in a croaky voice that only sends another jab to my system. "I'm sorry, I'm so--"

"There's nothing to be sorry for," I tell her honestly. "I told you to cool off, and you did. You shouldn't be sorry for taking my advice." She looks horribly saddened, but why, I'm not sure. "It's okay. Really."

I turn on my heel and retreat in the direction I came from. Because it's not Raven I'm upset with.

It's Bellamy.

---------

when u think fallamy's going great but then nope

so, this chapter wasn't my favorite because i just feel like my writing was all off and things moved too quickly, but i promise the next one will be 100% better...trust me... ;)

(also look at that gif of bob wow what a time to be alive)

-kristyn