Disclaimer: I don't own The 100 or its characters, but I do so love fanfiction about them!

Chaos Theory

Same shit, different day. Bellamy Blake heaved out a sigh as he walked the ranks of the cadets. Most of them had joined because they still thought of society as it had been on the Ark, when those from Phoenix had had it good, and those from Walden had been forever worried about food deprivation; they thought that by joining the ranks of the Guard here on the ground, they'd be treated to more, to better.

But that wasn't the kind of society they were building down here. In fact, that was one of the few reasons that Bellamy was stuck here, in this small encampment that felt like shackles despite the promise of freedom in this new world. He was bound and determined to make it better, so kids wouldn't have to grow up worried that their baby sisters might not eat, or that their moms would have to demean themselves to garner more resources.

And so far, it was working. Kane listened thoughtfully to all of Bellamy's suggestions, and he implemented most of them. When the population had increased, and food had become more scarce, Kane had let Bellamy take a hunting party out to scope out what areas he thought would yield the most game. When they'd run out of medical supplies, and someone needed to venture back into the graveyard that was once Mount Weather, Kane had left the details up to Bellamy.

When a scuffle had broken out between the Sky People and the Grounders once again, Kane had asked Bellamy what he thought they should do. So here he was, training up new guards, and most of them looked like they had no business being here. But it was a new world, Earth, and everyone could take a swing at anything. And Bellamy would be there to fit the pieces together.

Because that was what she'd asked. She'd said to take care of them, and that was what he intended to do. Even if he lost a piece of himself in the process.

Hours later, Bellamy sat on the outskirts of the camp, looking up at the stars. Something streaked across the sky, and Bellamy found himself giving a grim smile. Was that the kind of shooting star you could wish on?

"What's that look for? Ate something bad?" he heard behind him, and Bellamy rolled his eyes as Raven sat beside him. She pulled out a canteen, took a chug, and made a face. "Moonshine. Want some?"

Bellamy didn't say anything, but he held out his hand, and she handed him the drink. He took a long swig, eyes nearly watering as the stuff burnt its way down his throat. "Shit. That stuff is bad."

"Yeah, well, you know. The best stuff was always when Monty and Jasper worked together."

Bellamy took another drink to get past the lump in his throat. When they'd first returned, Jasper hadn't spoken to Monty since Mount Weather. He'd refused to speak with anyone who'd been involved, really. Then one day, he'd just disappeared. Up and left camp without a word. That had been nearly three months ago, just a mere half-year after the rescue mission had happened.

"Sorry," Raven mumbled, realizing her faux pas.

"Don't worry about it," Bellamy murmured, taking another swig.

Jasper hadn't been the only one to leave. In fact, Octavia and Lincoln had left after a few short weeks. They'd been excommunicated from Lexa's Tree Clan, but they didn't quite fit in at Camp Jaha. There was too much mistrust of the Grounders, and people were afraid of Lincoln's strange ways.

Octavia had always seemed off to most. She'd been what the Ark's society considered a mistake, someone who should have never been born, and yet she'd survived against all odds, and that made her frightening. Hers was a story that had never been a happy one. Her life had been hardships and obstacles, filled with small bouts of happiness that strung her along from one day to another.

They'd left after a few short goodbyes, first to Raven, then to Monty, and a few other members of the 100. Finally, they'd stopped to tell Bellamy, whose heart had grown so walled off that he'd barely been able to muster a smile to wish her well on the way. And the irony of it all was her leaving had perhaps been the thing that'd pushed him fully over the edge. He was who he had to be for their people, but his own feelings and ambitions became secondary, cordoned off. It was better this way. It didn't hurt so badly.

"Slow down, tiger," Raven said, but she took another large sip as well when she grabbed the canteen back from him. "What's got you so zen tonight?"

Bellamy shrugged. "Thought I saw a shooting star."

Raven gave a half-smile. "Finn used to tell me that people made wishes on those, before the Cataclysm."

"Yeah. I heard that too."

Raven glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, knowing who must have told him that. "Yeah. Makes sense Finn would have told Clarke."

Bellamy grabbed the canteen, letting more of the burning alcohol slide down his throat. It was making him feel fuzzy, which was nice. Better to be numb, especially when talking about shit like this.

"What would you wish for?" Raven asked.

For the first time, Bellamy turned his head to observe her. She was harder, more jaded, than when she'd first arrived. Raven worked just as hard as he did, trying to get everything up and running, and it had taken a toll on her. She'd had something with Wick at first, but she was too rundown, too broken to let herself be in a relationship with him, and it was too hard for him to do something halfway. In a lot of ways, he supposed, she was one of the few who knew exactly what he was feeling.

So what would he wish for? He wished that, somewhere, his little sister was safe. He wished that Jasper wouldn't have to feel the pain of having lost of his first love, and knowing that his best friends whom he'd trusted and looked up to had pulled that trigger. He wished that, wherever she was, Clarke Griffin was happy.

"I wish I could do it all over again. Fix it," Bellamy drawled, lying back on the grass as he watched another star streak through the sky.

The next day, Bellamy woke up feeling hungover. His head pounded, and bouts of nausea would come and go. Unfortunately, that didn't mean that he was released from his duties, and he was with a scouting party as they mapped out a new territory.

For him, the area was somewhat familiar. It was only a day and a half's hike from where their first dropship had landed, and he'd ventured near the area several times during the 100's tenure. But they'd found an interesting rock formation that had led way into a series of caves, and this was new for Bellamy.

Old leaves crackled under his feet as he jumped into one of the cavern's openings. "Find anything, Bellamy?" he heard. Miller.

"An entrance. I'm gonna scout it out real fast."

"Should we come?"

"No," Bellamy called. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Copy that. Better be quick. Chancellor Griffin won't like that you're going alone."

"If I'm not out in five, you can come after me."

"Copy that."

Chancellor Abby Griffin had joined on this trip last minute. The woman seemed like a shell of her former self, at least as far as Bellamy could tell since he hadn't know her well before. The loss of her daughter seemed to have extinguished the last spark in her, and she seemed just like a woman going through the daily motions.

So are you, a voice inside him trilled, but he pushed it down as he lit up a flashlight and moved further into the dark cave. There were many wounds from war, some that would scar over, and others that would fester. It was hard to say how everyone who had been involved in the Mount Weather rescue would do in the years to come. But Bellamy thought that if Clarke knew how her leaving would affect her mother, she wouldn't have gone.

Ahead, Bellamy could hear the trickle of water. The walls narrowed, then flared out again, leading him into a rather spacious cavern. It was beautiful, with specks of quartz on the walls and ceiling reflecting off a glowing pool in the center. For one brief second, Bellamy forgot about his worries, or his problems; for one shining minute, he unshouldered the burden that had been placed there all those months ago, and he took in the resplendent natural beauty of the place.

"Nice, isn't it?" a voice behind him cackled, and Bellamy whipped around.

He found himself facing an ageless woman. She was clearly a Grounder, but her skin was alabaster instead of tanned, as if she'd spent all her time out of the sun. She had the same charcoal markings that many of the Tree Clan had sported in a time of war, but it made her look regal rather than fearsome.

"Who are you?" Bellamy asked, more curious than cautious, and she cackled once again.

"I go by many names. Some have called me a soothsayer, others an oracle, and plenty more who call me a demon. I know all, and you may call me Allegra. The real question is: who are you, Bellamy Blake?"

The intensity of her gaze startled him, though he tried not to let it show. This was the first real sting of emotion he'd felt in months, he realized, and he tried to quickly resurrect his walls. "How do you know my name?"

"Didn't you listen, boy? I just told you. I am all-knowing."

On the Ark, Bellamy's mother had read mythology to him and Octavia when they were growing up. The stories were often beautiful, and tragic, and many mentioned seers that could predict the future or perform small feats of magic. But for this woman to claim she was part of that? The notion was too absurd for Bellamy to even entertain.

Bellamy thought about asking her how she had survived in this darkness, but instead he asked, "Why are you here?"

She ignored his question, or rather chose not to answer, as she fired off one of her own. "Did you mean what you wished last night, boy?"

Bellamy's brow furrowed. What was she even talking about?

"Because you should be careful what you wish for. Even the smallest of pebbles can start of landslide. You must remember this on your journey to come."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you part of the Tree Clan?"

The woman took a step closer then, and the floor and walls suddenly began to tremble. Bellamy's legs locked as he braced himself, wondering if an earthquake was happening. Distantly, he heard Miller shouting his name, but he watched as the old woman seemed to glide towards him, completely steady even on his waif-like legs.

"Remember, Bellamy Blake, wishes have power when they are reinforced by strong emotions, but changes have consequences. You will have a full lunar cycle to carve out your future and pay the debt owed."

"What are you talking about?" he shouted, his voice drowned by rocks beginning to fall from the ceiling. His mind was screaming at him to run, but he felt rooted to the stop.

"Good luck, boy," was the last thing he heard as the ground shook and the cave groaned, and a heavy rock fell from the ceiling directly above him. And then everything went black.

Everything was shaking. Bellamy groaned, coming to. He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering suddenly what had happened. The caves. That woman. She claimed she was some kind of soothsayer.

Bellamy's eyes shot open as he realized he needed to get out of the cave, but instead he found himself holding tightly to a seat belt wrapped around his torso.

"What the…?" he began, and he looked down and realized that he was wearing his old guard uniform from the Ark. What the fuck was going on?

He glanced up, noting that he seemed to be on some kind of ship. Things were beginning to shake even harder, and Bellamy looked around. He noted many familiar faces. A screen suddenly flickered up, and Bellamy found himself looking up to a monitor with Thelonius Jaha's face on it.

"Prisoners of the Ark," the smug prick began, "Hear me now. You've been given a second chance. As your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but for all of us. Indeed, for mankind itself…"

What. The. Actual fuck. Bellamy tugged at his seat restraints as the screen prattled on, and he began to rationalize in his head. He must have been hit by the rock, and this was all a dream. A fucking weird and really realistic dream, but a dream nonetheless.

In the corner of his eye, Bellamy could see movement. He glanced over, saw that someone had cut the straps on their harness.

"Oh, hell yes," the figure said, floating through the air. Cheers arose from the other members of the 100, and Bellamy ran a hand through his hair. He grimaced when he realized it had been slicked back, and he remembered that he had worn it differently on the Ark. Everything had been different back then.

Something fell from the ceiling and nicked Bellamy's hand, and he hissed in pain. Dreams weren't supposed to hurt, right?

"You're the traitor who's been in solitary for a year," Bellamy heard Finn say.

"You're the idiot who wasted a month of oxygen on an illegal spacewalk," came the response, and Bellamy glanced up. Her face was obscured by another row of prisoners, but Bellamy could tell even from here who that bright blond hair belonged to.

And as the cut on his hand continued to bleed, Bellamy's mind came to a startling realization. This wasn't a dream, nor was it a nightmare. Somehow, Bellamy had been sent back to the beginning. The 100 were about to land on Earth.

A/N: I know, I know, I still have to finish The Line Between, and I promise I will, but this story has been bugging me for a while, because I already know how exciting it's going to get. I'm always a big fan of time travel tropes, and the notion of having a redo, but the butterfly effect taking hold. So I thought, why not do that with The 100?! I promise there's some exciting stuff planned here for you guys. Anyway, if you like this, please please leave me your thoughts/encouragement, because reviews = inspiration. Thanks for reading! xoxo, TATF