❝if bad luck knows who you are, become someone else.❞

-jandy nelson, author

♛

IT HURTS LIKE HELL. The loss of so many innocent lives, the fact that two friends have been lost. Gina and Caleb's face dance in my memories, just out of reach, hazy and unclear already.

The alcohol burns as it goes down my throat. I grimace at the strong taste, setting down the glass with a little more force than necessary. A shadow sitting at the table across from me causes me to jump. However, I calm down once I notice it's just Jasper.

He stares at me blankly. He's looked better, of course, with his eyes glassy and face pale even in the lack of lighting provided by the bar. It unnerves me how his pupils seem to bore into my soul.

When I speak, my voice comes out throaty. "What?"

I'm pretty sure I hear him mumble, "Not again," but with my senses dulled by the liquor, I could be wrong. He takes the glass from my hand and drags it toward him.

"Hey--" I start to protest, but to no avail. He downs the rest before I can finish.

"That's enough for you," he scolds. "Don't make this a repeat of what happened last time."

"What happened last time?" I question and tilt my head to the side in confusion. I don't remember there being a 'last time.' Alcohol is not the substance I usually turn to in order to help me cope with my hardships. I don't even remember the last time I did.

I stop. I don't remember the last time I did, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen.

"Jas--"

"Go back to your room, Fallon," he orders like a parent. More like a brother who needs to care for their older sibling. "Bellamy is probably wondering where you are."

He's right. I know he is, and maybe that's why I finally sigh in defeat and stand -- albeit a little wobbly -- and give Jasper a small wave before heading out of the bar. I have a little trouble navigating my way across the uneven land to get to the Ark. One of the guards stationed at the entrance gives me a nod which I return. The corridors are fairly empty and quiet at this hour of night. The constant hum of electricity is the only sound I can distinguish as the doors slide shut.

I begin walking, but not in the direction of mine and Bellamy's room. Instead, I find my feet carrying me past it and toward the garage. I can see through the glass window in the door that the lights are off- all except a single lamp aimed at the underside of a Rover. I twist the doorknob and open it silently. The room is silent except for a slight tinkering sound.

"Raven," I call. My voice echoes; the tinkering stops. There's no reply. I try again. "Raven."

Wheels rolling against the ground catch my attention. I walk around one of the cars to discover her standing up, face shining and dust coating her cheeks. I can't tell if it's sweat, tears, or both. Bags line the skin beneath her eyes due to lack of sleep. Her hair, though still up in its usual ponytail, is nearly falling out.

"You should go to bed," I advise her. She gives me a once-over and cocks an eyebrow.

"You're one to talk," she counters. I shrug, knowing I must look awful as well. "I'll go to sleep once I finish tinkering with this engine. It'll only take a few more minutes."

"Raven," I say, my voice gentle, "it's okay to grieve." She tenses and freezes in place. "You and Caleb must have been close, and Gina was a friend, too."

After a few seconds, Raven sighs and plops down on a nearby metal stool. Her elbows lean on her knees; she appears to be searching for something to say. I know by the way that her eyebrows are pinched that she's going to open up. So, in order to listen better, I grab a seat across from her.

"Caleb and I weren't just close," she begins. "We were practically inseparable. He was the first to greet me, the first to teach me the ropes of how to be a Zero-G Mechanic. You could say he made me into who I am today. We saw each other every single day, all day. I guess that's what caused him to open up to me so quickly.

"Caleb Jones was a changed man. He told me the story of a girl, nameless, whom he cared a lot for but didn't know how to show it. She stole so her family could survive. Her heart was gold, but his was not, and so he got the breakup he deserved. She was caught two months later. That was when he realized that, had he been a better person, maybe she wouldn't be trapped in the Sky Box, waiting to die. It wasn't until he arrived that I realized the girl was you.

"Caleb was a good person, and he blew up. He never got to meet" - her breath hitches - "he never got to meet Finn. He was supportive when I told him the story of the spacewalk. And they're both gone."

Raven's lips press into a thin line. She turns her head away, a signal she's about to cry, and so I reach over and take her hand in mine. The grease and oil on it don't bother me in the least. All that matters to me then and there is being a rock for my friend.

Did Caleb know she thinks so highly of him? Did he know that every time she looked at him, there was respect in her eyes?

I blink; a tear falls. I hadn't noticed that my eyes have been filling up and are now brimming over.

"Thank you, Fallon," Raven says with utmost sincerity in her voice. She looks at me, tears also falling down her face. "Thank you for being here."

"Thank you for telling me." I squeeze her hand.

It hurts like hell, but Raven and I are each other's rocks.

--

"Please tell me you're joking."

Kane shakes his head, causing me to sigh heavily. He somberly hands me Bellamy's guard uniform. I take it with disbelief still circulating through my brain, squeezing it like a vice.

"He blames himself," Kane explains. His brown eyes are full of sorrow. "He thinks he doesn't deserve to be a guard anymore."

The rough material of the jacket is heavy in my hands. Even though it's not even remotely close to my face, I can still tell that it smells like him.

"I just can't believe he didn't tell me," I say quietly, shifting my gaze from my father figure to the ground. Bellamy and I tell each other practically everything. Usually I can predict his every move. Why hadn't I seen this coming?

"I think you should try to talk to him," he urges gently. "Bellamy is an excellent guard, and we need both of you."

My gaze returns to his. I can tell that Kane is sincerely troubled by this turn of events, and that maybe I really am the only person who can get through to Bellamy.

A flame of determination ignites in me; I nod firmly. "I'll do my best."

Easier said than done. Bellamy is nowhere to be found. Our room is empty, the eating lounges sparse, and nobody is being of very much help. I search in vain through an endless amount of hallways and every room I can think of. But when I finally do find him, I should have known he'd be there.

The spare training room. It's much smaller and less clean than the one the guards use every day. The sunlight sends streaks of light across the floor and walls, making dust particles visible as they float carelessly through the air. I hear Bellamy before I see him; just by the sound of dull, rhythmic thuds echoing through the otherwise empty space, I can tell he's furiously beating up a punching bag.

And I'm right. When I turn the slightest bit, I discover his back to me, his gray-brown shirt damp in the back from sweat. His curls are slick as well, the lighting making the damp strands appear more brown than they actually are. The punching bag sways precariously with every hit.

He doesn't hear me enter. I stop a few feet behind him and plant myself there. "Bell."

Immediately, the punches cease. The tension in his shoulders releases a bit as he reaches forward and puts a bandaged hand on the canvas to stop its movement. For a second, he stands with his back to me, muscled frame moving in time with his heavy breaths before he finally turns around.

I hold up the jacket and raise an eyebrow. "When were you going to tell me?"

"After I did it," Bellamy somewhat mumbles. He starts to pick at the end of the bandages on his hands. "I knew you wouldn't be happy."

"Why did you quit?" I ask calmly, trying to catch his gaze that keeps moving around. "Bellamy."

He sighs. "I failed to do the one thing that, as a guard, I'm obligated to do- protect people. Everyone at Mount Weather died because of my mistake--"

"Our mistake," I correct him, taking a step closer. "We both trusted Echo blindly when we shouldn't have. You're not going through this alone."

Bellamy's shoulders sag. I can see the despondency clear in his eyes, in his facial features, buried in his body language.

"It doesn't feel right," he whispers. "Maybe, one day, I'll go back. But not now."

I understand where he's coming from. By continuing to be a guard, Bellamy feels as if he's living a lie when so many people died. But what he doesn't see now is that he can honor the memories of the fallen Sky People by protecting those who are left. I'm not going to push it while he's in this state of grief.

"Okay," I concede with a nod, tucking the jacket under my arm. "The funeral starts in an hour. Go shower- nobody'll want to sit by you if you go smelling like that."

Pike is hosting a memorial service for those who died in the explosion. Attendees are encouraged to bring an item that was special to the person whom they lost, or just some kind words to say about them. I think that the idea is thoughtful and will help everyone heal from their losses.

I sit between Raven and Bellamy with my shaking hands folded into my lap. My eyes can't look up from them; they sting with tears and I'm afraid that if I move, they'll fall.

Bellamy's fingers work their way between my own until they're entwined. No words are spoken. They don't have to be. The action itself says I'm here for you, and the message can be reciprocated back to him.

"--All that's certain is that we die," Pike continues his speech at the front of the room. "How we die is up to us. Who will speak for Iris Jake?"

A boy stands up from near the front. I recognize him from our first encounter with Farm Station. His name is Bryan; he had been the one to pin me down. Black strands of hair wisp across his pale face in a disarray of messy locks. The expression on his face displays pure grief, making my heart ache.

"Iris was strong," he recounts once he's at the front where Pike had previously been standing. "Good with a knife. She saved my life. I'm just sorry I couldn't do the same for her."

With a flick of his wrist, the pocket knife in his hand flips open to reveal the small blade inside. He carefully places it on the growing pile of items on a table and walks somberly back to his seat beside Miller.

"We will miss Iris," Pike says gently. "May we meet again."

"May we meet again," the assembly of grieving people repeats lowly.

"Who will speak for Caleb Jones?"

Bellamy squeezes my hand as a strike of cold alarm hits my heart. Raven stands, offering a hand to help me up, ironically enough. I take it. My legs feel like dead weights as I follow her to the front.

Raven carries the item. We had both agreed that it was suitable for him, and since there was no need for it on earth, it was best to give it up.

"Caleb was the best Zero-G Mechanic the Ark had in fifty years," Raven says, her voice unwavering. "Usually that's what people say about me, but he refused to take credit for all of the things he did."

She looks to me. I inhale shakily through my nose, praying my voice doesn't come out as broken as I feel it will.

"He changed a lot since I last saw him. I regret not having seen it before" - my voice breaks - "before this."

Together, Raven and I put the space helmet in the largest empty spot we can find. The walk back to our seats seems to take years although it's really only seconds.

"Caleb was a brave man," Pike recalls. "May we meet again."

I can't force the words out. They mean he's really gone.

"Gina Martin."

Now it's my turn to give Bellamy encouragement. He briefly looks down at the copy of The Iliad in his hand before rising to his feet.

"Gina was real," he begins. "She always saw the light, even here. She deserved better."

Just as he's about to place the book down, a buzzing sound interrupts the mood, signaling that the door has opened. I turn to see a group of older guards storm in and begin speaking with Pike.

"I just saw 'em. Whole encampment. Three hundred strong. Just behind the tree ridge. It's a bunch of 'em. It's Grounders."

Pike crosses the front and stops in front of where Kane and Abby sit facing the crowd. I can't hear what he says until his voice gets louder. "You gave a Grounder one of our radios?"

The assembly begins muttering, scattered whispers filling the air.

"Sir, are we under attack?" Hannah Green questions from the front row. At her words, people begin to stand as if they plan on fleeing.

"No, we are not under attack," Kane replies calmly. "Their commander sent a peacekeeping force to ensure that we can prevent any further attacks from the Ice Nation."

"Peacekeeping force?" Pike demands incredulously. "Even you can't be that naïve, Marcus."

"Watch your tone," Abby snaps back. "You're talking to the next Chancellor." Next, she addresses the people gathered before her. "We're all grieving. This has been hard on all of us. But we can't let anger drive our policy."

"Anger is our policy!" Pike challenges, receiving several chants of agreement. He steps up onto a stool. "If they're here to defend us, as you say, then tell them to go home. We can defend ourselves!"

"Yeah!" a small group of people shouts back.

"You," a man sneers, pointing to Lincoln. "You don't belong here."

"He's one of them!" another person declares.

"My boy is dead!"

It seems to happen in slow motion. The man raises his arm and fires a medium-sized rock at Lincoln. Time speeds up as it hits him in the side of the head with a sickening thud.

I curse under my breath, pushing past the mob rushing toward Lincoln. Some are defending him, like Bellamy, but others are trying to push past the line of guards to reach him. The peaceful funeral turns into turmoil within seconds.

An ear-piercing whistle from Pike causes everyone to stop. "Hey! We do not attack our own. Fighting each other only makes us weak. The enemy is not in this camp." He points toward the exit. "The enemy is out there."

Abby beats me to Lincoln. Even from where I stand, I can see blood trickling down the side of his head. He waves her off, stumbling toward a broken panel from the wall that's large enough for him to sneak through.

"Fallon!" Raven calls, making a feeble attempt to grab my arm as I dart away. I ignore her plea for me to stay and instead squeeze through the opening that leads outside.

"Lincoln!" I shout, running after him as he walks shakily toward the end of the building. "Linkon, hod op!"

He does as I say, sinking to his knees like he can't bear to go any further. An arm props himself up using the corner of the wall. Before I can fully make it to him, he begins striking the metal with his palm out of frustration.

I finally crouch down in front of Lincoln and gently turn his head so I can survey the wound. A bruise is already starting to form, blood pouring from a slight indent near his forehead. Sprays of red litter various areas of his face.

"I can help you." I plead in English this time. "Just let me get you to Medical."

Lincoln shakes his head with his eyes squeezed shut. When he opens them, a dark shadow of determination crosses over his features. His voice is hard.

"Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim."

-----

wow!!! what's this?? an update!! who would have guessed??

i am SO sorry for the incredibly long wait! i have been so busy and my motivation to write has been in the negatives lately. i'm trying my hardest!

-kristyn

TRANSLATIONS:

Linkon, hod op!: Lincoln, wait, stop!