So, I am head over heels in love with this show. I love just about everything about it. This is an idea that has been in my head since season 1, but I have just gotten the time to lay it all out in words. Let me know what you think.

Earth was everything she had imagined—bright, green, and fresh—and probably the worst place in the universe to be as of that moment. Sure, being down here was better than death—probably—but not by much. With the power struggle between Bellamy and Clarke, the Grounders, and lack of supplies, she was almost positive that everyone was going to die either way. She wasn't a pessimist—not exactly. She was a realist. Even if Monty refused to believe it.

"Look at how far we have come so far, Bambi! Sure, we lost a few—"she flinched at the thought of Charlotte and Wells and at the terrible nickname he had developed for her—"but, can't you see the progress? We have murderers, child molesters, thieves—"

"Is this supposed to make me feel better?" He laughed, holding his hand out to her to assist her with the log she was struggling to climb over. The two, who had become somewhat friends in the few weeks they had been there, had been appointed laundry duty for the day. Actually, Monty had been ordered to do it, but had insisted for her to join him. He hated to leave her at camp by herself.

"My point is that we were not meant to survive this long. But look at us! We have a fucking wall! That we built out of nothing! We have weapons, food, and shelter—"

"I hardly consider make-shift tents that leak and provide very little privacy shelter." She retorted, readjusting the basket of clothes on her hip. The basket, along with almost everything else in the camp, was made by scratch from any spare materials they could find. It was a badly woven contraption made of branches and string pulled from the drop ship. But, it got its job done. Much like everything else. They had been left with nothing. She could see the point that Monty was making, sure. They had come a long way. But they were just kids. How could they survive winter in an unknown place with what little they had? How could they fight a war with people who were clearly more adapted to this world?

"Remember the first day we got here?" She stopped and stared hard at Monty, wondering where he was going with the conversation. Sure, she remembered. That's where the nickname started—after the self-elected leaders had their big tumble and the classy floor-girl made her debut into the world, everyone had rushed outside. Unable to believe what was happening, she had stayed put. Monty later revealed that he had been watching her stare at the world in awe, like the old cartoon character Bambi that they had learned about in the Ark. She had no idea who the character was, or why he was referring to her as a baby deer. But, after many protests and one actual fist fight later, he continued to use the awful name. That, and he didn't know her real one. No one did down here. No one but Monty had even asked. It was no surprise that people didn't know her—she had been in solitary since she was 8. It didn't matter who she was—what mattered was who she was now. And now, thanks to the Asian who would probably never get laid in his life, she was Bambi.

"We need that excitement back. We need that drive back. No one had any worries. We were happy. We can get back to that."

Bambi couldn't help but grin at her friend and continue to follow him towards the water. They had located a small stream, free of human eating snakes, and had begun to use it as their source of laundry and bathing. Sure, it was freezing and probably pretty dirty, but they would take what they could get. Tossing her basket down on the ground, she unbuttoned her dirty, ratty jeans and slowly slid them off of her thin frame. Earning a wink from Monty, she rolled her eyes and tossed the pants into the basket.

"Don't be such a guy. My clothes are falling apart. Can't anyone in this camp sew?"

"You would actually have to talk to people other than me to know that." He snorted as she threw the ratty jeans at him. They began their work in comfortable silence. They had both come to the unspoken agreement that Bambi probably wouldn't ever associate with the other campers—and it was just her business. Monty had pried once, after they had been test-tasting his newest batch of moonshine. After a bloody nose and a broken ego later, he didn't touch the subject again. She would speak to Jasper occasionally, but his goggles freaked her out. Kidding. He was too close to the royalty of the group and she just did not need that extra attention on her. Before Monty had approached her, she had planned on not speaking to any of the other prisoners and skipping camp as soon as they landed. Provided that they lived, of course. But, after everything that had happened that first day, she would be an idiot to think she could make it on her own. So here she was, in her underwear, washing clothes with a tech geek on planet Earth.

"Hey, have you ever been in love?" He asked her suddenly, making her almost drop the shirt she was holding. She had no idea whose it was—it was just a simple, plain black t-shirt. She gently laid it down on the rock next to her to dry before turning to her friend.

"What the hell? If you're about to profess your love for Octavia, I think Jasper has already beat you to it."

"No, stupid. I was just wondering. I'm trying to figure out why you're so closed off. I have a few theories." She couldn't help but grin at him as a feeling of peace fell over me. Sure, there was no way he would ever figure it out, so why not have some fun?

"Go ahead Chink. Let's hear 'em. Turn your head." She removed the shirt on her back and tossed it into the water, waiting for him to continue.

"First off, ouch on the racial slur. Not cool." She ignored him and continued to lay out the freshly washed clothes. "First theory—you were in love, but got separated because you got sent to the Skybox for whatever reason that you refuse to share. You were so brokenhearted that you stopped trusting people and refuse to talk about your life because it only holds painful reminders of the love that got away."

It took every ounce of her self-control not to burst out laughing. She stared into his eyes for a moment, briefly wondering if he was even remotely serious before he grinned cheekily at her. She then realized that she was still only in her bra and his eyes were constantly switching between hers and her chest. She rolled her eyes and turned back to her laundry, flipping him the bird as she did so.

"Ok, ok. I figured that would be a bust. Second theory. You were a mass murderer at the Ark, and you plan on killing every one of us, except me, of course. So you keep your distance so that you won't feel any guilt while slitting everyone's throats. That's it, isn't it?!"

This time, she wasn't able to control her fit of giggles at his insane theories. They continued like this until the sun went down, listing off other insane possibilities for why she was the way that she was.

"Ok, last one. Theory number 47. You were secretly Jaha—"They both stopped suddenly, noticing a giant light from the sky. It looked almost like a shooting star. Throwing on the first clothes she could grab, the black t-shirt from earlier and someone's green cargo shorts—which she would have to remember to apologize about late- they both grabbed the rest of the laundry and rushed back to camp.