• •

CHAPTER NINE;

ON A MISSION.

• •

        THE LOVE HAVEN CARRIED FOR  RAVEN REYES EXISTED IN A REALM OUTSIDE OF SPACE AND TIME. Like, entirely beyond the boundaries of human comprehension. It was extraterritorial, skeletal– a sensation that gnawed down to her very bone marrow every day for the past five years. Even moreso on a day like today, where she was cruelly reminded of just how much she missed her bestfriend, and how much she needed her.

        They all needed her.

Monty sat across from Haven in the dimly lit dropship, hunched over the intricate wiring of a wristband, his fingers delicately probing it's components. "I just don't understand why," he groaned in frustration, the small knife in his hand carefully dissecting a blue thread. "It's not," The wire crackled and sparked, abruptly rendering the wristband as another failed dud. "Working."

        Haven felt essentially useless. Painfully inadequate. Throughout her childhood, she played a supportive role in Raven's engineering feats on Mecha. While Raven scorned instructions, already at least ten steps ahead in her brilliant mind, the two formed an effective partnership. Raven's need for control met its match in Haven's company, even if Haven, more often than not, found herself poring over instruction manuals.

Raven's expertise and Haven's lack of engineering experience created an intriguing juxtaposition, a balance that worked surprisingly well. While Raven delved into the intricacies of machinery, Haven found her place by providing a grounding presence. The slick mouth and sharp intelligence she inherited from Mecha didn't necessarily translate to fixing things, but she gladly embraced her role as the voice of caution; the one who kept Raven from accidentally (or purposely) blowing shit up. It didn't matter if Raven only half-listened to Haven's instructions as she tinkered with scrap metal;

        what mattered was that they were together.

        Things changed since then. Greatly. Exponentially. Some would argue for the worst, others would argue for the better. In the confines of the SkyBox, Haven's once cautious hands had quickly evolved into fists of steel. The girl who once hesitated to touch a wire now stood as a prison-born weapon, her cruel transformation casting a formidable shadow over her the effigy of her past self. 

        Metamorphosis fucking blows.

        "You're doing your best, Greenie." Haven offered Monty an earnest nudge of reassurance. She absentmindedly chewed her lower lip, brows furrowed in concentration as she studied the way he worked. "What happens once you get the power to stay on? Play with the wires til' the Ark says peek-a-boo?"

        "Let's just work on getting one to stay calibrated first." Monty blew out a long sigh, quickly refocusing his attention to a second volunteered wristband. "Eventually, I'd need a transmitter or something to boost the signal. If I can patch the wristband through the dropship's mainframe with the transmitter attached– we're golden. But that's only if I can get this stupid piece of junk to stay alive."

        Another crackle of blue electricity emitted from the device before it shut off entirely. Monty groaned and tossed the wristband into the growing pile of duds next to him. "Damn it!"

        "Transmitter. Got it." Haven knew better than to intervene with Monty's evident frustration. The Green boy performed best under pressure, even if he tore all of his hair out in the process. "There's none in the dropship?"

        "Nah. Comm system's toast, remember?" Monty sighed, his eyes scanning the cramped confines of the dropship as if hoping a transmitter would magically materialize. "Practically freakin' useless."

        "Shit."

        "Yeah. Shit."

        Haven considered for a moment. Trying to think like Raven proved itself to be extremely difficult amidst the havoc of her own mind. If the drop ship was a bust for a functional transmitter– where the hell else were they supposed to find one? Aboard the Ark, transmitters were seamlessly woven into the fabric of daily life—embedded in walkie-talkies, integrated into computers, and indispensable for the use of the broadcasting system. Technology thrived within that stupid ball of metal among the cosmos, but here, now– the delinquents were stranded upon Earth; smack dab in the middle of fucking nowhere, surrounded by Grounders and acid fog and caves and... wait.

        "There's no such thing as not enough parts."

        Fourteen year old Raven Reyes sat rummaging through a pile of scrap metal, hair slicked back into her signature ponytail as she tirelessly scoured through different materials. Haven stood leaned against a crate as she observed Raven's search for a replacement actuator.

        "Some asshole is bound to screw you over eventually. Could be a faulty part, delayed work order. Sometimes they'll even steal it right out from under your nose." A satisfied smile illuminated Raven's face as she triumphantly held up the elusive actuator from the scrap heap.

        "Get creative, suck it up– and make it work."

          A spark of realization ignited within Haven's eyes, flickering like a beacon of hope in the all-too-dark drop ship. "I think I have an idea," she announced. Rising from her seat on the floor, her boots echoed a determined rhythm as she locked eyes with Monty in farewell. "I'll be back!"

        "Wait, what?" Monty shot up from his seat as well. "Where are you going?"

        "Nothing to worry about." Haven knew it was a lie the moment she opened her damn mouth. As she approached the third-level hatch, the metallic groan of twisting locks underscored the gravity of her decision. She revealed the passage below with a forceful wrench. "Just a quick trip outside the wall."

        "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Haven pivoted to grip the railings of the ladder, fingers tracing the grooves of the cool, weathered metal. "You need a transmitter, right?"

Monty nodded, though he looked anything less than pleased.

"Okay." She took her first step down, the steps groaning softly beneath her weight. "It means I know where to find one."

"Like that makes me feel any better." Monty grumbled. "Where are you gonna find it, exactly? By the spear pit? In the acid fog? Or maybe in the river, right next to the man-eating snake that tried to turn Octavia into breakfast–"

"I'll be fine. I know how to handle–"

"Handle what– yourself? Sure. You're smart, but you're also stupidly overconfident." Haven herself couldn't even deny that as Monty shook his head incredulously. "We don't know what else is out there, and we're not god damn Grounders."

Haven closed her mouth as swiftly as she had opened  it. Somebody's cranky. She took a moment to consider her next words; the last thing she wanted to do was argue. "I didn't say I was. All I'm trying to do is help out. If it gets too dangerous, I'll dip."

"It's not dangerous enough already? Because last time I checked, you didn't watch Jasper get speared, Haven!" The words escaped Monty's throat far more viciously than intended. He pointed a wobbly finger toward himself. "I did– and it came out of fucking nowhere!"

Silence roared.

        "I did." Monty's voice trembled as he repeated himself, but he was quick to mask it with a swallow. As if he could force down the grief choking him. "And I just got him back. I– we can't lose you too."

The majority of Haven's body had already slipped beyond Monty's sight, yet she stole a moment to glance back at him. His silhouette loomed, crouched over the hatch opening, concern etched across his soft features in a desperate plea for her to reconsider. Her veil of nonchalance hadn't fooled him in the slightest; it never had. Though at the same time– he knew he couldn't stop her.

Monty's eyes bore into hers with the weight of the sea. "Just... be careful, alright?"

        Haven's heart seized at that, her gaze involuntarily flickering to Jasper's sleeping form in the room she was departing, and then back to Monty. "Always am." She assured, extending a finger to the boy frowning above her in a familiar ritual. "Pinky swear."

        There was no hesitation as Monty swiftly looped his pinky around Haven's to seal their silent pact. She offered another nod of reassurance before slipping her hand from his, bounding down the ladder with purpose. Down and down she went, the twisting in her gut painfully ignored as she left the two boys behind.

        Haven knew she would make it back in one piece. She was certain of it. Her survival was a fact that existed beyond just personal preservation. She cared little for her own fate; it was a deeper sense of responsibility that fueled her. Death was an adversary she refused to fear because death feared her. Her journey outside of camp wasn't a solo endeavor; it was a promise to survive, not for herself– but for the two extensions of her heart in the dropship that patiently awaited her return.

        She would make it back in one piece.

        Not for her sake.

        For theirs.

• •

        SUNRISE HAD BARELY CLEAVED THE SKY IN TWO BY THE TIME HAVEN EXITED THE DROPSHIP. Fragments of pink and navy merged in a bittersweet collision, coloring the sky in the soft hues of morning light. The air held a distinct crispness, a blend of wet dew and anticipation. Haven pushed through the curtain assembled at the entrance without haste.

        Most of camp remained asleep at this hour – rightfully so. Haven figured it would be a slow-ish start today. The return of the hunting group the night prior had cast a shadow of unease, leaving the majority of delinquents too unsettled to find sleep until the safety of dawn broke. Only a few stragglers lingered outside their tents in the aftermath. Among them were boys appointed by Bellamy, tasked with continuing the construction of the wall.

        Haven, of course, didn't sleep at all. Neither did Monty. The weight of recent events clung to her like a second skin, while Monty, fueled by the relief of Jasper's recovery, discovered a newfound energy that kept him awake alongside her. Together, they worked on the wristband slash radio situation. Well... Monty worked, while Haven sat there and studied him for several hours.

        Now– she had her sights set on something else. Brown eyes, wearied yet determined, immediately sought out the boy she was looking for. It wasn't hard to find him, either. The mop of floppy brown hair made him easily distinguishable amidst the quiet of camp.

        "Finn," Haven called out, the name carrying a soft urgency. She approached the Collins boy, finding him perched atop a log, his silhouette defined against the emerging hues of dawn. "Hey."

        Finn was engrossed in the task of sharpening a blade with a piece of scrap metal, concentration riddling his features. He hardly even lifted his head to meet her gaze. "Morning. Why the hell are you awake?"

        "Can't sleep," Haven admitted with a shrug, stepping closer to sit beside Finn on the log. He remained focused on the blade in his palms. "I was wondering. Where's that, er, car thing?"

        "The automobile? That's why you can't sleep?" Finn chuckled warmly at the way Haven pronounced the words, earning himself an abrupt smack on the shoulder. "Uh, why?"

        "Take me to it."

        Finn remained unfazed. "Uh... why?"

        Haven narrowed her eyes. Finn was very clearly uninterested, and she couldn't necessarily blame him; it was early as shit, but said shit also needed to be solved. She pressed forward, crossing her ankles over one another. "Monty needs a transmitter for the radio to work. Think it'll have one somewhere inside of it?"

        "Oh, for sure." Finn's voice carried a light, teasing tone as the rhythmic sound of knife against metal continued. "But have you ever... y'know, seen a transmitter before?"

        Haven scoffed. "Is the sky fucking blue?"

        Finn finally looked up, checking to see if the sky was, in fact, blue. "Well, it is actually kinda pink right now–"

        "Don't answer that." Haven shook her head and blew out a bothered breath. "And don't ask stupid questions. We both grew up around the same supergenius-mechanic. I know what a transmitter looks like, just not how to use it."

Finn's laughter rang out at that, but the sound carried a forced quality, an almost skittish note that clung to the quiet morning breeze. "Yeah," He coughed, the casual evasion of Haven's all-knowing eyes betraying a hint of discomfort. "Right."

Haven blinked.

        What the fuck did she miss?

Things suddenly felt a bit awkward, though she couldn't entirely place why. Whatever the hell that was about would have to wait. After a beat of excruciatingly weird silence, she continued. "Um, you wanna lead the way then?" Finn remained silent, as if he hadn't heard her. "Finn?"

Finn nodded, though his gaze appeared distant and preoccupied. Like talking to one of his childhood friends suddenly became a damn chore. Haven's eyes traced the path of his distracted stare, stopping abruptly as it led her straight to a familiar figure across the camp.

Clarke.

The Griffin girl emerged from her tent with a weariness that even the dawn couldn't dispel. Clarke, adorned in the soft morning light, carried her usual fatigue, yet an unfamiliar lightness enveloped her—a subtlety Haven hadn't noticed before.

        At first, she wondered if the glow stemmed from the conversation Orion overheard between Clarke and Wells last night. Evidently, all was well between the two again– which was a good thing. A great thing, really. Haven didn't particularly care for the details; any resolution was far better than the group being hindered by their one-sided fued.

        Now, things became abundantly clear as Haven observed the silent exchange unfolding before her. It took Clarke all of two seconds to notice Finn's trailing gaze. Despite the considerable distance between them, she offered him a gentle nod of recognition, of fondness.

And then it clicked.

Haven's jaw clenched. "Finn."

"Can't. Sorry, Haven." Finn hurriedly pocketed his knife and slipped away from the log, brushing his palms against the front of his cargos once he stood. "We found the car–"

"We?"

       Haven rose to her feet and cocked her head to the side. Slowly. Lethally. There was no need to connect the dots any further. She stared at the boy before her with an arsenal of obsidian daggers for eyelashes, each blink sharpened and poised to slaughter.

Finn could not move any faster. If there really was a higher being somewhere out amongst the heavens– he was certainly praying to it now. God save whoever the hell stood between Haven and her fury. The urgency in his movements painted the vivid picture of the only thing worse than a man in general; he was a man who got caught red fucking handed.

        "I found it about thirty minutes outside of camp. Start toward the river–"

"Finn."

"And then stop in front of the only tree that's changed colors so far. The leaves are red, the door should be right at your feet–"

"Finn–"

"It's impossible to miss it." Finn scrambled toward Clarke, turning around only to toss an infuriating farewell over his shoulder. "And for the love of Christ– don't go alone! Take Miller with you!"

"Finn FUCKING Collins!"

Finn's steps quickened in a jittery urgency as as he continued his retreat. The fury exuding from Haven was willful enough to burned holes into his very back. The morning air, once serene, now carried an electric charge as the weight of unspoken revelations hung between them.

With a groan, Haven blew out an exasperated breath, opting not to chase after him. If Finn wanted to engage in certain slut-tivities– fine. So be it. She couldn't stop him, nor could she stop the suspicions lingering in her mind that threatened retaliation in the form of a shimmering black eye.

For once in her life, Haven nursed a desperate hope to be wrong. In the depths of her mind, she grappled with an inescapable truth: it wasn't a matter of if Raven Reyes would descend to Earth, it was a matter of when. Raven, who had shared Haven's upbringing on Mecha, wasn't only her best friend; she was also Finn's long-term girlfriend.

What a clusterfuck.

        Haven inhaled. Breathe. Then exhaled.

She needed to move, to channel her restless energy into something other than clutching her damn locket in moments of overwhelm. Despite her suspicions about Finn's fidelity lacking concrete evidence (aside from his guilty retreat), they couldn't deter her from slipping through a crevice in the wall. As she ventured toward the river in search of the transmitter, per Finn's instructions, a simmering anger marked her stride.

Finn loved Raven. Hell, the boy had even gone to prison for her. Haven recalled the way she trembled with sheer horror upon seeing him in the Sky Box for the first time. Four years into her own sentence, familiar faces were an inevitability. Yet, nothing could have prepared her for Finn's appearance, and nothing could have prepared her for the reason why.

        Finn explained to her that on Raven's eighteenth birthday, she triumphed in her entry exam, propelling her into the realm of conducting mechanical work outside the Ark. AKA: this achievement marked her as the youngest Zero-G mechanic the Ark had ever seen. Raven didn't merely pass the exam; she aced it with flying colors, all with one grueling exception– one setback that outweighed years of relentless training and studying.

        She failed the physical requirement because of a damn heart murmur.

        Naturally, the Zero-G team at the time became averse to any association with Raven. In short, they wanted nothing to do with her. They were unwilling to face the repercussions from the Council if her life was jeopardized during a spacewalk under their directives, shattering her lifelong dream in mere seconds.

        So– Finn made that dream come true. In a daring act of lovestruck stupidity, he organized an illegal spacewalk. He borrowed a spacesuit from the maintenance bay, defying reason to let Raven soar through the cosmos at last, if only for a fleeting moment. Love, it seemed, had a penchant for the reckless and the audacious.

        Things inevitably went south as Raven returned from the stars. There was an oxygen breach upon the closing of the outer doors, quickly leading to airlock pressure failure and triggering emergency protocol in it's wake. Finn was forced to race against time, manually overriding the system to prevent Raven from passing out and dying in the airlock chamber.

Emergency protocol locked all breached sections until pressure stabilized, unleashing guards to find the source. With no escape, Finn swapped suits with Raven. At eighteen, she faced death; Finn, only seventeen, awaited the Sky Box, his fate pending review in the months ahead.

His actions fostered the birth of the name Spacewalker.

The situation never entirely sat right with Haven. Biased or not, she believed he didn't deserve the cool nickname after nearly getting his girlfriend – her best friend – killed. Haven could understand his intentions; all he wanted was to see Raven smile, but his recklessness went beyond her tolerance. She'd much rather prefer a gun to her head over jeopardizing the lives of her loved ones like that.

Finn, to his credit, confronted the repercussions of his actions head-on. Haven could respect that, at least, as opposed to the alternative. If she had heard word of Raven being floated all because of him... she was certain she'd kill Finn on the spot.

A soft gust of wind whisked Haven from her memories. Upon lifting her gaze, she discovered a single crimson leaf pirouetting through the air above. Pride illuminated her eyes as they settled on a towering tree, its branches adorned with a cascade of red leaves in the distance.

She made it.

Faster than Finn had mentioned, too. Haven maintained a keen awareness of her surroundings during the walk, begrudgingly adhering to his directions leading to the automobile. Well– minus the warning of taking somebody with her. That part was out of the question entirely.

She propelled herself into a light jog, careful to avoid stepping on any branches in fear of startling any animals, Grounders, and whatever the hell else resided within the forest. Once she reached the trunk, she sunk to her knees, delicately sifting through the pile of fallen leaves until her fingers brushed against a metal handle.

Bingo!

        Haven exerted gentle pressure on the handle, coaxing the door open with a muted creak. The vehicle, now tilted on its side and embraced by nature's overgrowth, demanded her to climb downwards rather than stepping in conventionally. Once settled within, she closed the door above her with a gentle click.

        Light filtered in from the overhead window, casting a tangerine glow that danced within the ancient interior of the automobile. It's age was evident—worn and fading leather seats, dust collecting in every conceivable crevice. Yet, despite the visible marks of time, Haven couldn't help but find the massive piece of machinery pretty damn fascinating.

        Her eyes focused on the vehicle's control panel, or at least what she presumed it to be. In the past, her knowledge of cars and modes of transportation had been confined to the realms of fiction novels. Now, presented with the real thing, Haven contemplated the task ahead—tearing apart the hunk of metal until she unearthed something that resembled a transmitter, all amidst the remnants of a bygone era.

       No fucking pressure.

       "Do it for Monty, think like Raven." Haven whispered to herself, settling into what she could only assume was the driver's seat, given the wheel at the forefront. The quiet mantra lingered in the air like a prayer.

        "Do it for Monty, think like Raven."

• •

        DOING IT FOR MONTY AND THINKING LIKE RAVEN WAS REALLY, REALLY, FUCKING HARD.

        The Smith girl's efforts proved to be successful by the time she finished– thankfully. On her trek back through the forest, she proudly carried not only a functional transmitter in her backpack, but a handful of miscellaneous wires as well. While the wires weren't precisely extracted by choice — Haven couldn't figure out how the hell to unravel them from the transmitter — she speculated that Monty could put his big, beautiful brain to use and find some purpose for them.

        In short, she was sort of feeling good-ish. Useful would be the better word for it. Like she could finally contribute some form of real help to the pressing matters at camp instead of just following in the footsteps of her acquaintances. She wasn't Bellamy. She wasn't Clarke. She felt nothing like a leader, but at the very least, she could do this for her friend.

"Am I chopped liver or something?"

Haven halted in her tracks.

"I thought you agreed to give me a heads up when you're sneaking out." Orion stood casually leaned against a tree trunk a few yards away. She seemed to be toying with a switchblade and, oddly enough, using it to file her nails. "It'd be nice to know ahead of time so that I can at least cover for you. Y'know, without sounding freakin' clueless."

        "Shit." Haven smacked a palm over her forehead as she approached the young girl. Though she couldn't distinctly recall agreeing to Orion's suggestion, she wanted to extend the courtesy regardless. "Who noticed I'm gone?"

        Orion halted her filing and shot Haven a look. "Is that a real question?"

        Haven frowned. "I thought I was discreet."

        "I mean, you would've been, only if you hadn't ripped Spacewalker a new one at the ass-crack of dawn." Orion laughed, and Haven's shoulders relaxed. "You woke up me and Blake, then Blake woke up Miller. Now the two of us are on guard duty– yippee!"

        Haven's shoulders tensed again. "Bellamy put you guys up to this?"

        "Yup. Miller's covering the east side of the wall while I'm covering the west." Orion studied her nails, satisfied with the sharpened edges before pocketing the blade in her waistband. "Don't sweat it though, it's not a punishment. I'm just the first head Bellamy saw when he stormed out of his tent. Plus, I'd rather be on Haven- lookout anyways."

        The corners of Haven's lips curved upwards at that. She was somewhat pleased to know that Bellamy was back to normal after last night, and even more grateful to see that it was Orion standing before her. "Lucky me."

        "Lucky you. God, imagine if Bellamy found you instead. I think he'd short-circuit and like, punch a tree or something. So dramatic." Orion rolled her eyes before noticing the pack on Haven's shoulders. "You find anything good out there?"

        "I did, actually." Haven's smile grew further as she swiftly removed her backpack from her shoulders, pulling back the zipper to reveal it's contents. "Monty needs a transmitter to make his radio. Found one in that automobile Finn was talking about yesterday."

        "Wow." Amusement flickered in Orion's eyes as she perused the materials in Haven's bag. She reached in carefully, extracting the transmitter and holding it up to the light for closer inspection. "What a shame I have no fucking clue what any of that means. Sure looks transmitter-y though."

        Laughter bubbled in Haven's chest and spilled from her mouth before she had a chance to contain it. "Trust me. I really don't know much more than you do. I electrocuted myself like, three times just trying to find the damn thing."

        "You're from Mecha, right?" Orion handed the transmitter back to Haven as she nodded her head in response. Together, they started their return to camp. "I thought you guys were known for being grease monkeys."

        Haven slung her pack back over her shoulders, trying to ignore the ache still lingering, and opted to cradle the transmitter in her hand instead. "And I thought people from Factory were known for being nerds."

        Orion gasped, purely for theatrics. "First of all– just because we like to read doesn't make us nerds. My french is impeccable because of what I've read in my freetime. Wanna hear my favorite sentence? Suce ma bite et avale mon (suck my dick and swallow my)–"

"Woah!" Haven held her free hand up in the air, as if she could silence the profanities Orion spewed with the willingness of her palm. She took note of the delinquents' chatter sounding in the distance, a sign they were almost back. "You remember I can understand you, right?"

        Orion groaned. "Ugh, yeah. I thought I could one up you with that one, though. You speak it natively?" She broke into a grin as Haven nodded once more. "Alright. Give me a hard one then, it'll be good practice for my noggin."

        "Fine. I'll even slow it down for you." Haven cleared her throat, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she fought the urge to laugh. Orion, brows furrowed, leaned in with pure focus. "C'est mon but dans la vie d'avoir des relations sexuelles dans un–"

        Her voice trailed off as her feet smacked into something hard.

        Orion absentmindedly continued translating, her words whispered under her breath as the crease between her eyebrows deepened. "My goal... in life..."

        Haven's eyes lowered to her boots.

        "Is to... have sex... in." Orion whipped her head toward Haven at that, her features contorted with wild confusion. "To have sex in what?"

Silence reigned; all remnants of playfulness vanishing like mist in the wind. Orion, gripped by uncertainty, traced Haven's gaze to the forest floor and unleashed a bone-chilling shriek—an otherworldly wail so piercing that even the leaves overheard shuddered in response.

        No.

        Haven's sights were no longer on Orion, nor the distant camp just yards away. No. No. No. Her breath tightened as her eyes settled on a patch of dirt near the transmitter she'd dropped onto the ground. A cluster of gnarled roots seemed to reach out like skeletal fingers–

        right next to the body of Wells Jaha.

• •

HI!!!!

sorry its been a few weeks longer than anticipated i have been so so busy but i missed this

split the next chapter into 2 so you could have this early <33

LOVE U!

AND BUCKLE TF UP!

new cover also lmk your thoughts <3 idk if its too much going on

• •