A solid right cross was all Bellamy managed before Octavia yanked him unexpectedly toward one of the seats on the dropship, hissing at him as she shoved him into the hard plastic, "Buckle up, big brother. You'll have plenty of time to work Wells over once we reach the ground."
Bellamy grumbled and looked like he was about to get up and go after Wells again in spite of his sister's warning, but then he thought better of it. His eyes were still flashing as he reached for the shoulder belt and yanked it down until it clicked into place at the other end.
"He's a traitor," Bellamy's gravelly voice rumbled. "I'd shove him out an airlock if it would make Clarke suddenly appear."
"But it won't," Octavia responded pointedly, her eyes both steady and gentle as she studied him from the seat she'd taken beside him. "Nothing will make her show up here with us now, Bell. We're on our own."
She tried to hide it, but Bellamy could hear the sadness and the fear, the loneliness and loss that Octavia was barely keeping in check. He reached for her hand and gave it squeeze. "It'll be ok, O. We've still got each other. And," a lump formed in his throat but he swallowed harshly before continuing, "maybe the rest of the Ark will be able to join us soon…"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
"You're unbelievable!" Clarke shouted at her mother, her fists clenched at her sides. "You wanted to keep me with you? Protect me? You just lost me forever. I will NEVER forgive you for this. NEVER!"
Turning on her heel, she stormed out of the shuttle launch area and marched to her quarters where she slammed the door closed and locked it behind her before throwing herself on the bed. She clutched the blanket that still smelled so distinctly of Bellamy. His skin, his hair, his breath that would tickle the back of her neck as they slept. The dam burst as she closed her eyes and allowed heartbroken sobs to wrack her body.
"Bellamy…" she whispered into her pillow, hugging it to her tightly. "What am I supposed to do now?"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Murphy had helped Wells to a seat while snickering to himself about how off-guard the Chancellor's son had been when Bellamy had lashed out and punched Wells.
"You know you should have expected that, right?" Murphy smirked from where he sat beside Wells, ignoring the fact that his new 'friend's' broken nose was still bleeding.
"Why are you even talking to me?" Wells asked irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose gingerly with one hand while trying to pull off a part of his sleeve to use as a rag.
"Who else am I going to talk to?" Murphy responded with a question of his own. "We're hurtling through space. We may not even live long enough to see the ground. And if we do, we'll probably die as soon as we're exposed to the radiation-soaked air. I'd rather spend my last moments taunting you than scowling alone."
"Good to know," Wells responded dryly, releasing his nose carefully, testing it to see if it was still bleeding. With relief, he wadded up the cloth and tossed it to the metal floor. Before he could say anything else, the whole dropship began to rattle as if every nut and bolt holding it together was being pulled from the seams.
"We're all gonna die!" someone shouted in a panic.
"We were all gonna die anyway," Murphy yelled back. His tone was impatient, but when Wells met the younger boy's eyes, he could see that Murphy was hiding his fear behind a mask of indifference. He didn't want to die any more than the rest of them.
"We're not going to die," Wells called, his own voice authoritative and soothing.
As soon as he spoke, though, the lights flickered, sparks flew from the consoles and control panels all around them, and everything became too chaotic for the dropship passengers to do more than hold on to their harnesses, close their eyes, and hope that when it was all over, they might still be alive.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Clarke trudged through her shift in med bay in a daze. She could barely bring herself to acknowledge her patients, let alone speak to them. Her heart was heavy and filled with despair. There was only one thing that it seemed to ask with every beat: What now?
The sound of a throat clearing brought her attention back to the present. When Clarke looked for the source of the noise, she was surprised to see Raven on the end of an examination table, watching her closely.
"Do I need to find someone else to take a look at this electrical burn or are you gonna be able to stay focused long enough to take care of it?" Raven asked her in her usual direct manner.
Clarke smiled at her sadly and shrugged. "I can handle it."
As she was treating Raven's wound, a thought occurred to Clarke but she didn't voice it right away. She turned it over in her mind a few times and when she finished dressing the burn, she bit her lower lip and asked as casually as she could, "Hey, before you go...do you think you could come by my quarters later? I have something I need to ask you…"
Raven studied Clarke's face for a few moments before she slowly nodded and said, "Sure. I'm off shift in an hour. See you then."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
When all the clattering and whirring of machines ceased, and the sounds of metal being shifted as the atmosphere tried to pull the dropship apart at the seams suddenly ended, the inhabitants of the shuttle became acutely aware of the distinct lack of noise. It was something they'd never experienced before.
Wells opened his eyes when he heard Bellamy's deep voice say in an authoritative manner, "Come on, let's get out of here, see if we actually made it."
Voices once again began to fill the stale air, but before the now-moving passengers could get too far, Wells disengaged his seatbelt and forced his way to the front of the crowd that was headed for the dropship door.
"STOP!" He yelled with just as much authority as Bellamy had used. "Do you want to die before we even figure out if we're able to survive here? Opening that door right now will ensure that fate for us all if the radiation is still as bad as it once was, as bad as it's still supposed to be."
Bellamy looked up and glared at Wells, challenging his logic, "If the planet is still radiation-soaked, we're all dead anyway."
When there was no further protest, Bellamy depressurized the door and opened it. For several moments, they were all blinded by the brightness of the sun, but once their eyes adjusted, murmurs of awe and excitement radiated throughout the group.
With a triumphant grin, Bellamy looked at his sister and asked, "Want to be the first person on the ground in a hundred years?"
Before she could answer, though, several metal canisters bounced across the ground near the dropship and a couple even landed inside at their feet.
"What the…?!" some managed to get out in a panic while others shouted frantically, "Everyone stay inside! SHUT THE DOOR!"
It was too late. A red cloud of smoke was released from each container and it wasn't long before they were all coughing and hacking, losing consciousness as they dropped to their knees and slid to a halt on the cold metal of the dropship floor.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
The Earth Monitoring Station was busy, filled with people trying to collect data from the dropship's inhabitants as it hurtled through space toward the ground.
Abby's eyes were glued to the screens, watching vitals respond to a rush of adrenaline but otherwise hold steady.
"Come on," she murmured under her breath. "I can't leave until I see."
The truth was, while she was concerned for those aboard the dropship, her main concern was her daughter. She knew Clarke was more than angry with her for separating her from her best friends and her boyfriend, and she was afraid there might be no way to win back her daughter's trust again if the people Clarke cared about didn't survive their landing on Earth.
When it was clear from the state of excitement that the monitors were picking up that the dropship passengers had reached their destination, Abby watched with a sense of anticipation of her own, suddenly sure that all would be well, her daughter would forgive her, and things could go back to normal again.
But then the worst happened. All at once, every single one of those bracelets that had been placed on people's wrists with such high hopes blinked rapidly for several moments and then cut out completely.
They were dead.
Whether the bracelets themselves or those wearing them, Abby couldn't be sure, but she feared the worst, and her optimism was completely crushed. She was sure that whatever chance there'd been for all those left on the Ark was gone in that instant. And no doubt whatever chance she'd had of ever receiving her daughter's forgiveness was likewise gone.
Now, the only thing she had left to do was pay her penance.
Abby knew that Clarke was in med bay. Other than the time she'd spent in her quarters immediately after the dropship had launched, Clarke had been in med bay keeping herself busy, refusing to leave. Abby moved through the space that had always been like a second home to her and knew that the place of healing had become a refuge for her daughter as well.
A hand at her elbow caught Clarke's attention. She looked in confusion at the person holding her and found herself face to face with her mother. Clarke scanned Abby's features coldly and gave her a nod, quietly moving off to the side where she was sure she would be provided with whatever information her mother bore.
"Tell me," Clarke demanded impatiently. She didn't think it was possible to hurt more than she already did. She was wrong.
"I need to tell you about the dropship group, Clarke," her mother said urgently, sounding exhausted and defeated at the same time.
"What is it?" Clarke asked, this time her full attention on whatever words might be coming from her mother's mouth.
"They're gone," Abby said simply, her voice breaking at the end of the words.
"What do you mean they're gone?" Clarke demanded, forcing herself to stay calm and not panic.
"I mean, every single bracelet went offline all at once. The only reason they'd do that is if they're non-functional anymore. Clarke...I'm so sorry...but your friends are dead."
"NO," Clarke said firmly even as her voice shook with emotion. "They can't be. Maybe they were injured or something. Who knows? But I can't believe that they're gone. Not yet. Not like that."
Abby tried to comfort her daughter, take her into her arms, but Clarke refused. She pushed her mother away and left med bay at a run, heading as quickly as her feet could take her to the only place that could soothe her now, the last place she and Bellamy had been alone. Her quarters.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
The knock, although expected, startled Clarke. She'd been going over the logistics in her mind, planning and plotting as she tried to determine if what she planned to talk to Raven about would actually be feasible.
When Clarke opened the door to the mechanic, a stirring of hope began to build in her chest.
"Come in," Clarke said, waving Raven toward a seat at the table. It was the same chair, in fact, that she kept picturing Bellamy seated at. His absence was most real to Clarke when she looked around her quarters and pictured him there as he had been such a short time before.
Raven cleared her throat as she'd done earlier and Clarke took a seat across from her after securing the door.
"So...you wanted to see me?" Raven asked, curiosity clear in her tone.
"I did," Clarke confirmed, folding her hands on the table in front of her. "How would you feel about helping me get to Earth?"
Intelligent dark eyes narrowed at Clarke immediately, "What now?"
"How would you feel about helping me get to Earth?" Clarke repeated, this time more slowly.
"How and why would I do that?" Raven asked skeptically.
"We may not know each other well, but I know my father trusted you and said you were the best at what you do. I think you'd kill to get your hands on the right parts to make a small pod that could survive the trip to Earth. And I think you'd do it just to see if you could," Clarke stated confidently.
"Maybe," Raven responded thoughtfully, not committing herself to anything.
"Raven," Clarke began again, this time her voice both pleading and passionate, "The Ark is dying. We're all going to head to the ground sooner or later. The data coming to us from the dropship is disturbing. It shows that they made it to the ground and were doing just fine, but then we lost contact with every one of the transmitters. The bracelets just stopped functioning. I don't know what happened but I don't think that they're dead. They might need help, though."
"And you think that you can help them all by yourself?" Raven scoffed, "You're a lunatic, Griffin!"
"You're more than welcome to join me," Clarke snapped.
The words made Raven stop and think, studying her companion as she pondered the possibilities. Finally, she began to nod slowly and said, "I'll look into it. Don't go getting your hopes up, though."
Relief coursed through Clarke and she wanted to hug Raven but she held back, her lips twitching and her eyes sparkling as she said sincerely, "Thank you, Raven. You won't regret it."
Raven smirked and rolled her eyes, "I already do."
