❝phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes.❞

-albus dumbledore, harry potter

♛

THE NEXT MORNING IS rough. With Bellamy in lockup, our room had felt incredibly cold and empty, just like I knew it would. I tossed and turned in the bed with no sign of sleep in sight. And in the rare moments where I did find slumber, it was fleeting and restless.

I couldn't stop thinking. My mind constantly reeled with thousands of fragments of thoughts that I couldn't piece together. The entire conversation between Bellamy and Octavia replayed over and over, with me scrutinizing every minute detail.

My appearance in the mirror now shows visible traces of these facts. There are dark, puffy circles under my eyes as well as lines. My skin appears dull and lifeless. Even so, I get dressed for the day I'm supposed to be spending in Medical and head out the door. But I do not head toward the dining hall to get breakfast. Instead, I take the opposite route to lockup.

I don't greet anyone in the halls as usual. My outward appearance prevents others from doing the same to me; I assume I don't look very approachable today. My line of sight is fixed ahead of me and my steps are swift. I need to reach my destination as quickly as possible before I overthink and back out.

If I want straight answers, I need to get them from Bellamy himself.

Of course, I don't have official permission from Abby or Kane, which will make it slightly difficult to do that. I also need to get him alone.

"Let me in, Newman," I command to the guard at the right of the door. He's a grown man of about thirty-five, but we're well enough acquainted that I can skip the pleasantries. "I need to speak with Bellamy."

"Speak?" he jokes with a raise of black eyebrows. "Or do something else?"

My scowl deepens. He easily catches the drift that I'm not in the mood for humor and sighs. "Kane figured you would, but you've got a five-minute time limit. Any more after that and we're barging in no matter what."

He swipes his ID card against the keypad and opens the door. The other guard at post, Camano, steps aside to let us pass.

The people inside the jail cell all look toward the door once it opens. I don't look at anyone except for Bellamy, even when Pike decides to make a comment.

"Come to bail us out?" he asks in a weak attempt to lighten the obviously dark mood in the room.

"You know why I'm here," I respond smoothly. Kane is strict with my switching of jobs and what I'm not allowed to do while not in uniform. That's why Newman has to be the one to open the gate.

Bellamy rises slowly. There's no emotion on his face, a stark contrast to last night when he displayed cold anger and determination. I don't know how to read him. He's not letting me read him.

I turn on my heel as soon as he's released and stride toward the room adjacent to this one. It's small, but still the perfect size for a confrontation. The handle is cold when I twist it and open the door.

"Five minutes," Newman reminds me before shutting the door behind Bellamy and leaving us alone.

A beat of silence that I use to gather my wits. I thought of a thousand ways this conversation could go last night, but now that it's actually happening, my brain seems to have frozen.

"I already know what you're going to ask," Bellamy begins. I look up to see his eyes still on the floor. He swallows, throat muscles moving with the action. "How could I do that?"

"No." I shake my head and step closer. It already feels like there's a distance between us, and I hate it. It's foreign. Unnatural. In an attempt to decrease that distance, I slip my hands into his and squeeze. "I just want to know why you didn't tell me."

"There was no time," he responds. "Pike talked to me and told me his plan. You were on duty and I couldn't let anyone else hear yet in order for it to work."

I nod. "Understandable. But it really confused me when I saw that."

"I know." He squeezes my hands back. "And I'm sorry."

My next breath shudders in my chest. I shouldn't be afraid to ask Bellamy anything, but for some reason, my next question is hesitant to come out. "What were you going to do once you met the army?"

He pauses at this. When he doesn't answer for several more seconds, I raise my head to look him right in the face. His lips part and then close again. It hits me hard like ice shooting to my heart. Even if he hadn't responded with words, I had seen the answer in his eyes.

"Kill them." It's not a guess. I know. His mouth opens again, and I take a step back. His hands fall back to his side. "Bellamy."

"There's not another option," he reasons. I shake my head, turning around so I don't face him. "We need to be safe. Think about all the lives we've lost. Think about Gina. About Caleb."

I whirl around at that. "I am. But it was Ice Nation who did that, not Trikru."

"And who was it that killed Roma?" he demands, voice not raising but instead breaking at the mention of our fallen comrades. "Jones? Our friends? Who was it that betrayed us at Mount Weather? Who sent a spear through Jasper's chest? Huh?"

I know he's right. I have spent these past three months resenting them for leaving us to reverse the airlock. To kill those who had aided us in our time of need. Maya, Lee, Maya's dad. But with Kane joining us into the coalition, maybe we have a chance to work together. It gives us a better chance at survival. Maybe they aren't my favorite people in the world, but we can't fight forever.

"We have our peace treaty."

Bellamy scoffs. "Is that what this is? Peace? Not being able to farm or hunt on our own is not peace. Having to get all of our food from the Grounders is not peace."

I try a different approach and hint toward what's bothering me the most. "Aren't you tired of people dying?"

Bellamy shakes his head. "Not when justice still has to be served."

We stare at each other, possibly more divided than when we had entered this room. I see where he's coming from. The Grounders - Trikru especially - have done nothing but kill and betray us ever since we came to the ground. We live in a world where people will do anything to stay on top, to survive. But I just want him to consider a world without war. Surely Lexa has something planned to punish Azgeda for what they did.

But before I can say anything, Newman opens the door. He must sense the tension by the way his brown eyes flicker nervously between us. "Five minutes are up. Fallon, you should get down to the election."

I nod and exit without looking at Bellamy. It hurts me to do so, but then again, things are so different already that it makes sense at the moment.

Death. I just want to get a damn break from it.

--

The election results come in around noon. It was a landslide victory, with a heavy majority of Arkadia voting for one of the two candidates.

All hail Chancellor Pike.

If Murphy were here, he'd probably have a field day. Pike as Chancellor. I feel like he'd laugh himself to death at the irony. Back when Pike was teaching us Earth Skills, he had beaten Murphy to teach him a "lesson" about the challenges that the planet would bring.

But Murphy and Jaha never returned from their mission to locate the City of Light. They had left with a dozen others while we were in Mount Weather and nobody has seen or heard from them since.

As Kane heads to lockup to announce the news to Pike and release him, a great commotion comes from the entrance to the dining hall, where the results had just been broadcasted. People are yelling, some calling for Abby, some for Raven, and some for me.

"The main entrance! Hurry!"

I break into a sprint outside and toward the North Gate. Monty is on guard there, along with a few older men. He's kneeling beside a body crumbled on the ground. The figure is clearly a man with a navy jacket, black pants, and-

I skid to a sudden stop. My eyes blink hard to make sure I'm not hallucinating.

Monty looks up and catches my eye. He waves me over, shouting frantically, "Fallon, come here! He's hurt."

I push the hope down and jog toward Monty and the man. He's face-down in the dirt, unmoving.

"What-"

"He's alive," Monty clarifies breathily. "Just in a hell of a lot of pain."

I crouch down and tap the person's shoulder with shaking fingers. They twitch, then turn their head in my direction so slowly it's like time itself has been tampered with. I can't prevent the gasp that leaves my lips as they feebly attempt to push themselves up from the ground.

The face of Caleb Jones half-grins at me. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

And he passes out. I reach my arms forward to catch him, but he's incredibly heavy as a dead weight. Monty helps me situate him awkwardly on his back with his head to the side.

"Monty, what the hell?" I ask, eyes scanning over Caleb's obviously damaged but alive body.

"He just showed up at the gate," he recounts, obiously as freaked out as me. "Well, not really. We could see him coming from a little bit away and brought him in. But look." He motions for me to switch to the side he's on. When I do, I wince. "He was burned."

Sure enough, the angry marks of where the blast of fire had hit him are present on his neck and disappear down the collar of his shirt. The pink skin has been eaten away by the flames. It had probably once been a blistering, festering mess, but now that it's been a few days, some of it has gone down. It's difficult to look at; no wonder he passed out.

"It's a miracle he even got here," I say, gently hooking my finger around his collar and tugging it down. The burns continue down as far as I can see.

"How did he even know the way back?" Monty asks.

I shrug. "Caleb's a genius. He probably memorized it on our way there."

Abby bursts from the Ark at last. I'll need her help and possibly even Monty's to safely transport Caleb without irritating his wounds. Luckily, she has come with Jackson, who has a stretcher tucked into his arm. I immediately rush to help him carry it. With Monty's help and some of the other guards', we load the unconscious boy onto the canvas and start to carry him toward Medical.

"Looks like either second or third-degree burns," Abby notes as we walk. "He's going to need some antibiotics and a lot of gauze."

Raven is the next to appear. Her expression is confused, eyebrows pinched until she sees who it is we're transporting. The crease between her brows changes to one of concern. Her limp is extremely apparent as she hurries toward us.

"He's alive," she remarks breathlessly. Her brown eyes are wide as they take in his disheveled appearance. But, even so, I can hear the relief in her voice. Her lips are turning up in a small smile in spite of the circumstances.

"By some miracle, yes," Abby confirms with a nod. "But he's going to need immediate treatment on those burns."

Medical is more hectic than usual once we reach it. Monty and the other guards are required to return to their post, but Raven is allowed to stay. She keeps her respective distance as Jackson, Abby, and I get to work on Caleb.

His shirt is the first thing to go. Abby and I remove it as quickly and carefully as possible in order to see the rest of the wounds. They continue all the way to just above the right side of his abdomen in a thick line, where they then stop abruptly. I wince.

"There's dirt," Abby observes. "We'll need some water to rinse it out."

"Here." I hand her a bowl of it, which she begins to slowly pour over his chest. That's where the main problem is. Either from the initial blow or his journey back, the burns had somehow collected dirt.

A simple rinse is all it needs. Caleb's body strains, though he stays safely unconscious the entire time.

"Jackson, ointment, please," I request with an outstretched hand. A few seconds later, a pressure in it informs me that he gave it to me. I unscrew the cap and squeeze some of the clear medicine on my fingers. "Here goes."

I even have to brace myself. Once my fingers come in contact with the affected area, Caleb's body jerks. Abby and Jackson immediately go to hold his arms down in case he reflexively hits me. Raven's breath catches in her throat at his reaction.

I bite my lip and start to spread the medication as gently as I possibly can.
Once I finish applying a thick layer, Abby releases Caleb's arm and starts with the gauze. It should prevent any further harm, like infections, from entering.

Caleb's tense body begins to relax once we finish. But then Abby starts to apply pressure to various areas on his chest and it starts back up again.

"He's had some bruising to the ribs," she informs us. "My guess is that the explosion threw him backward, but he still got hit by it.

"He'll be okay, though, right?" Raven asks with a hint of nerves in her voice.

"Yes," Abby confirms. "But he'll have scars for a few months."

I glance down at Caleb and find myself thinking. We had all fallen from the sky. But Caleb was like a Phoenix, literally rising from the ashes.

I just wonder what he'll do now that he's been reborn.

------

and the prodigal son returns!!

this was a semi-filler chapter, but still very important. it leads to some stuff that'll happen in the next chapter!!

i'm so happy that caleb is finally back like wow i've been waiting to write that in for so long

-kristyn