Hours and hours had passed as the storm raged on. It was only getting louder and Rory was finding herself getting increasingly more afraid. She could feel the weight of the world breathing inside the dropship. One life hung in the balance on the floor below, and another on the floor above. When Rory first set eyes on Finn early that day, she was certain he was a goner. The stab wound was one thing, but transporting him back to camp through the woods was another. If Earth Skills taught Rory one thing, it was that exposure would be the first to take a life.

The rest of the hundred, or what was left of them, crowded the entire level. Some kids took seats in the chairs along the walls, but most found solace on the floor. Rory sat in a corner as far away from everyone else as she could, which wasn't much. She had her knees tucked up to her chest so she wouldn't take up more space than necessary. From across the room, Octavia was chatting with Monty and Jasper. Her head fell back with laughter in response to something Jasper had said. The smile on her face faltered when she locked eyes with Rory. She mouthed something to the boys before she trudged through the masses towards Rory, stepping on a few hands on the way.

"You look like someone just killed your puppy," Octavia said as she slid down the wall beside Rory.

Rory's frown deepened. "Nobody has a puppy. They're extinct."

"Do you always have to be such a smartass?" Octavia snapped. Rory locked her gaze on the floor beneath her and pulled her legs even closer towards her. She felt Octavia take a long, exasperated breath. "I'm sorry Ror, I'm just freaking out about that grounder. He didn't do anything wrong!"

Rory looked up at the older girl. "He didn't?"

"No," Octavia shook her head. "He saved me. I was totally a goner in the woods but he grabbed me before a couple of other grounders could. Kept me safe. Sure, I was chained up but at least I was alive."

"That doesn't sound like a rescue."

"You don't get it, it's fine. Maybe one day when you're older." Octavia leaned over and tossed an arm around Rory's shoulders. Rory let herself relax underneath it. Another bout of thunder clapped, the sound echoing off the metal walls. Rory closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would chase the rain away.

A sudden chill woke Rory up, but her eyes remained heavy from sleep. Her mind was quick to work out that Bellamy had once again stolen the blanket they shared. He was a notorious blanket hog. Slowly, Rory forced her eyes to open. It took a moment for them to adjust to the dark. She sat up in the bed, Bellamy's blanked covered back facing her. They were in the Blake residence on the Ark. Aurora and Octavia slept soundly in the bed across the room. Wait a minute, Rory thought, remembering the storm, the grounder, the ground! This had to be a dream. She stretched her hands out in front of her, examining her palms. She could just make out the striped pattern on her sleeves. She was in her favourite pajamas. They were pink and had clouds on them. She'd outgrown them years ago. This was a memory...

She was seven years old. Her grandmother was in the infirmary with a flu that was going around and her father was working endless hours with the council. Back then, Bellamy was known to "babysit" if their father wasn't around. He'd walk her to her classes on the Ark and pick her up at the end of the day. If his schedule allowed, he'd share meals with her and their grandmother. Most of the Ark was used to seeing them together, under the guise that he was being paid to do so. He was not. She was his sister, his responsibility.

"Can't sleep either?" Octavia whispered in the dark. Rory squinted, trying to make her figure out.

"Nightmare," Rory lied.

Octavia's silhouette sat up. "Oh boo hoo. You'll be fine." Rory reminded silent. "You know it would probably be easier to sleep if you were in your own bed. In your own dorm. It's a bit crowded here don't you think?"

Rory let out a silent sigh. She may be young, but she was not a fool. She knew that Octavia didn't like her. Anyone else might have seen it as girlish jealousy, but there wasn't an "anyone else" to know about Octavia to begin with. She was thirteen years old and had never stepped foot outside the Blake dorm. Never seen anything other than these four walls and the door she could only dream about walking through. She had to pretend that she didn't exist. All the while, Rory was a second-born who had everything Octavia wished for: the freedom, the life, the brother. Being hated by Octavia wasn't necessarily pleasant, but Rory never blamed her.

"Take the blanket back from him, he's not going to wake up," Octavia said. "I swear to God, Bellamy could probably sleep through a hurricane." Rory blinked. That was the first time Octavia had said anything remotely nice to her before. She followed directions and gingerly pulled her half of the blanket out from underneath Bellamy's sleeping form. Octavia was right, he was dead asleep. Rory turned back around to thank Octaiva, or say anything really, but the older girl had already laid back down. Rory settled down under the covers and closed her eyes, letting dreams whisk her away.

...

She woke up with a jolt. Octavia, who Rory had been leaning against, stood up with sudden urgency. Rory almost fell flat on the floor, barely catching herself with her hands. She looked up at the commotion and a frown crossed her face. Octavia was standing by the ladder with a hand on the fifth rung. Clarke was up near the top banging on the trapdoor and demanding to be let up. Sleep had yet to evade Rory's system and her groggy mind couldn't process what Clarke was shouting. All she knew was that the trapdoor swung open and both Clark and Octavia scurried up to the third floor. Just as Octavia's left foot disappeared from sight, a gust of wind hit the dropship so hard that it shook. Rory was halfway up the ladder behind Octavia before she even knew what she was doing.

Rory's head poked through the hole in the floor. She had to wait a moment to take in the scene in front of her. Miller appeared above her ready to close the trapdoor.

"What the hell are you doing here, go back downstairs," Miller spat.

Rory blinked and said the first thing that came to mind. "Shut up." She hauled her body through the door and closed it. Miller crossed his arms and opened his mouth to argue, but they both got distracted by the commotion behind them. Some of the other goons that followed Bellamy around stood scattered around the room. Bellamy, Clarke and Octavia were huddled with their backs to Rory. Clarke had something in her hands that Rory couldn't see, and they were saying things she couldn't hear over the storm. What was Clarke doing up here? Was the surgery complete? Was Finn alive? Rory's mind raced as she tried to catch up with the missing pieces. Clarke took a step away from the Blakes, turning her body so that Rory could finally see what they were so interested in. Rory's hand flew to cover her mouth.

The grounder was covered in blood. His own, presumably. His hands were bound by straps that tied him to either side of the wall. His posture was slumped and he was standing on what was obviously a sprained leg. He had taken a beating before, when Bellamy first brought him back, but that was nothing compared to the bruises that covered his face and arms now. Blood was dripping from the fresh cuts on his arms into a red puddle on the floor. The grounder lifted his head slowly and looked up through furrowed brows. His dark eyes met Rory's. She wanted to run over and untie him, she wanted to help him. But she was frozen, and all she could do was let him see the pity in her eyes.

"Our friend is dying down there and you can stop that!" Clarke pleaded with the grounder. He must have done something to Finn, Rory thought. Something only he knew how to fix. The older kids didn't wait long for an answer before Bellamy stepped forward.

"I'll get him to talk," he said in a low voice. He bent down and picked a knife out from a pile of loose tools.

Octavia grabbed at Bellamy's arm desperately, begging for him to stop. "He didn't do anything wrong Bel! He saved me!"

"He wants Finn to die, why can't you see that?" Bellamy shouted back. Rory had only ever seen Bellamy get that emotional once before, a long time ago. Bellamy pushed Octavia away from him and she gave Clarke a grimaced expression.

"Do it," Clarke said emotionlessly. Rory held her breath as Bellamy approached the grounder. Instead of using the knife on him, Bellamy cut a seatbelt buckle off of one of the dropship chairs. Rory cocked her head to the side, confused. Bellamy tested out his new weapon by swinging it in the air a few times. An audible gasp left Rory's throat when Bellamy delivered the first blow. Between slashes Clarke would beg for an answer. Each time, the grounder stood unmoving. His face made it clear that he was in pain, but he was trying hard not to show it. Bellamy was getting more and more frustrated, and resorted to throwing punches.

Rory learned days ago that she had to get over her disdain towards violence. She knew what lengths had to be reached in order to survive on the earth. She knew that they needed to be strong, they needed to be fighters, not defenders. But that didn't mean she hated it any less. And it certainly didn't mean that she was okay with what Bellamy was doing.

He had a large screw in his hand, the pointy end sharper than the knife. Time became slow motion as he jammed the nail through the grounder's palm. The grounder cried out. Rory could have sworn she cried out with him. She recognized the crazed, angry look in Bellamy's eyes. She recognized their father.

Octavia threw herself between her brother and the grounder. "No more," she yelled. She held in her hand the knife Clarke wanted information on. With it raised in the air, she had everyone's attention. Shouts of protest erupted as she brought the blade to her own arm. She cut her skin deep enough to bleed. "He wont let me die."

And she was right. The grounder told them which vial had the antidote, gesturing to it with his head. Clarke took the vial and went straight for the hatch to save Finn. Bellamy put a hand on Octavia's back, which she shoved away.

"Don't touch me," she said firmly. She got up and moved towards the hatch. She climbed down the ladder with impressive speed. Bellamy turned to watch her go and for the first time he noticed that Rory was there. His jaw went slack and Rory could see the horror gloss over his expression. She stood there staring at him. The tears that had been threatening to escape for the last while finally spilled. Instinctively, Bellamy took a step forward but Rory was down the hatch before he could reach her.  

a/n: you guys got this before ao3 tee hee