Disclaimer | I don't own the 100, it's characters, or its plot-lines. I only own my own writing (and not the quotes pulled from the series), my own plotlines, and any original characters and/or original character dynamics.

"Prisoner Two eight-four stand up and face the wall!"

Instead of making any effort to stand, the brunette prisoner remained seated with her back against the wall. A red rubber ball flew out of her hand and bounced off the opposite wall, while three guards stood there impatiently. "I'm busy," she replied monotonously, "and you're early. You were the nerd of school weren't you? Always showin' up at least fifteen minutes early." She caught the ball with her right hand once again, before shooting the guards another, quick, glance. "My supposed eighteenth isn't for another sixteen hours, come back then," she said as she drew her hand back to throw the ball again.

A large, gloved, hand forcibly hauled her to her feet and pushed her in the direction of the wall opposite the door. "What the hell," she demanded as she spun back to face them, "can't you give me sixteen hours of peace before sending me out into the black?"

"Face the wall two-eight-four!" the guard shouted as he spun her back around, this time he held her against the wall. "Hold out your right arm," he commanded as another guard stepped toward her.

"What the hell is that?" she asked as she noticed something in the guard's hand. Instinctively, her right arm came back toward her body.

The guard standing behind her grabbed her right wrist and slammed it into the wall her body was pressed into. She grunted at the pain from the collision and began to struggle against the hold despite the initial pain. "What are you doing?" she repeated her question, "What is that?"

Her question went unanswered as the black cuff was secured around her wrist and what felt like a dozen needles sunk into her flesh. "Son of a bitch," she groaned as the guard eased his hold on her.

She brought her head closer to the wall, her forehead almost touching it, before slamming her head back into the guard's. The sickening crack - likely the man's nose - made the pain of the action worth it. She had long ago accepted her fate, that she would be floated like the rest of the Ark's criminals, and with less than a day left she had nothing to lose.

The guard stumbled back and his hold on her was released, another guard had spun her around and struck the back of his hand across her face. Blood dripped from the corner of her mouth, lips twitched up into a slight grin. "How'd you know I liked it-" she began, the screams of another girl cutting her off.

"No! I'm too young! It's not time yet!"

"Charlotte," the brunette prisoner said before she kicked out at the guard in front of her and rammed her elbow into the face of the one next to her. Before any of the three could stop her she ran out the door to her cell and kicked the the door shut with the top of her boot.

To the right she saw the twelve-year old girl, one she had come to know in the Ark's orphanage. "Charlotte!" She called out as she ran toward the girl who was struggling against the hold of two guards. It had been a year, almost, since she had seen Charlotte - or any of the other children that had lived there. What the hell could the young girl have done to warrant being arrested? She was far too kind hearted, too innocent, to be in the skybox. She must have underestimated the damage done by her parents being floated.

"Max!" Charlotte shouted, her voice desperate and her eyes filled with fear. The sight made Max run faster than ever at the same time she swore her heart shattered.

Her fist collided with the left side of the first guard's jaw, forcing him to release his hold on the much younger Charlotte. The second guard shoved the girl forward and while Max moved to prevent her from falling he landed a punch of his own to her eye. "Dick," she hissed as she threw herself forward, colliding with his body and sending them both toward the slab of wall next to the railing. Her knee slammed hard into his abdomen, a move that would have been more effective if his torso hadn't been covered by a vest. She spun around in time to kick the first guard as he came toward her.

"Max!" Charlotte exclaimed and the older girl snapped her head in the younger's direction and then was met with searing pain as a jolt of electricity spread through her body from her back. A second jolt surged through her at the same time there was a prick in her neck.

The last thing she heard was the desperate plea of a twelve year old girl.

"Spacewalk Bandit strikes again!"

"Whoo!"

"Go, Finn!"

Max heard the exchange before she saw it, but it was the shouting of another girl - telling two people to stay put if they wanted to live - that really pulled her out of her tranq induced slumber.

"What the…" she muttered as her eyes took in the sight around her, while her mind tried desperately to catch up to what she was seeing.

"Max! You're okay!" a small voice spoke beside her, and the brunette turned her head and glanced down at Charlotte.

"Are you?" she asked concern evident in her eyes - she'd never forgive herself if she failed to protect Charlotte when she had the chance. "Where are we?"

"Your one responsibility is stay alive," she heard Chancellor Jaha's voice and her eyes scanned to find the source: a monitor displaying a recorded message.

"I'm fine, Max," Charlotte said, "we're being sent to earth. All of us."

"Okaaay," she drawled, "I wasn't expecting that."

The ship lurched violently, lights flickered on and off, and the sounds of bodies hitting the walls mixed in with the screams of the various teenagers aboard the ship. Max reached over and grabbed onto Charlotte, reassuring herself she was okay. She couldn't protect Charlotte from the guards at the skybox, she'd be damned if she couldn't protect the girl on Earth.

At least, if the radiation didn't kill them both.

Fuck, they were going to Earth.

"Listen, no machine hum," someone said soon after the movement stopped.

Her fingers made quick work of the buckles of her seat belt before she threw herself in front of Charlotte, squatting down before her. "You okay?" She asked as she looked the young girl over before moving to help her unbuckle herself.

"I'm fine, Max," Charlotte responded as she slid out of her seat. "Are they opening the doors?"

"Shit," Max muttered. The earth was soaked in radiation. "You stay here, wait until everyone else has checked the air first okay?" She didn't wait for a response before she shoved through the remaining crowd upstairs and then proceeded to make her way through the crowd downstairs.

"Stop! The air could be toxic!" Max heard a girl - the same one from earlier - exclaim as she pushed her way toward the front.

"If the air is toxic we're all dead anyway," the male standing in front of the crowd responded. The sound of his voice made her body tense.

It was familiar, despite not having seen Bellamy Blake in nearly a year, she'd know it was him even if all the lights were off and she couldn't actually see his face. She briefly debated on pushing herself deeper into the crowd, back the way she came, but she figured there was no point. On one hand it was childish and pointless - not something she'd usually do and on the other they were bound to cross paths sooner or later.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the dark haired girl declared she hadn't seen her brother in over a year. The infamous Octavia Blake - Bellamy's sister - arrested for the stupidest possible thing yet: being born. As if it had been in the girl's control.

"That's Octavia Blake, the girl they found hidden in the floor!" Someone - a girl - behind Max shouted.

"Oh, shut up," Max groaned as Bellamy restrained his sister. Briefly, his eyes caught hers and his lips twitched upward before his attention returned to his sister.

"Octavia, Octavia, no. Let's give them something else to remember you by," Bellamy said, hands on Octavia's shoulders.

"Yeah? Like what?" The younger Blake inquired.

"Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years," he said with a grin and didn't take long for Octavia to mirror it.

The elder Blake - who was dressed in a guard's uniform and donned slicked back hair, something entirely un-Bellamy like - opened the drop ship doors. Everyone inside, all of the teenagers, were undoubtedly holding in a breath much like she was.

This was the moment where they'd figure out, at least upon first assessment, if the earth was survivable or not. Because if it wasn't they'd all be dead in minutes from radiation poisoning.

She wondered if a radiation induced death was quicker than death by floating.

"We're back bitches!" Octavia shouted, head tilted back. The rest of the 100 cheered and ran down the ramp the door created, Max released the breath she had been holding and followed the others outside. A moment later she saw Charlotte run out a smile planted on her face.

"We made it, kid," Max said with a big grin as she held her arms open for Charlotte. The younger girl ran toward her and they embraced, they may not have been related by blood - The Blakes were, after all, the only blood siblings on the Ark - but they were family. Family created in the absence of their own, whether by death or other means. "Stick close to everyone, alright?"

"Don't worry, Max," Charlotte replied before running off to go explore the nearby area.

"You know, I'd recognize those eyes from a mile away," a voice drawled behind her.

Laughter erupted from Max as she spun around to face Bellamy. "Is that supposed to be a line?" she asked, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrow raised. "Because if that's the case you're slipping Blake, that was terrible."

"Maybe, I'm just stating a fact, Maxie," He emphasized the nickname. She didn't have to see him to know he was grinning. Somehow, he managed to place his grin into the words he spoke. "You do have pretty," he paused, "freakish eyes."

"Oh, so now they're freakish eyes? Changing your tune, Blake?" She asked as she tilted her head, slightly, to the left.

Max wouldn't have been surprised to know she was the only individual on the Ark with her eye color - a rare color obtained by a mutation known as Alexandria's Genesis. Violet.

"You know me, Spitfire, always liked the freak in you," Blake responded, stepping closer.

Max wasn't sure just where he planned on going, any closer and they'd be flush against one another. On second thought, she realized, that was probably his plan. Bellamy Blake, always after one thing. Then again, Max knew, she was usually only ever after the same thing too.

"Good to know, Blake," she rolled her eyes and began walking backwards.

"That's it? Not gonna return the compliment?" He asked as his eyes followed her movements.

"Nah," Max replied and turned away from him. She noticed the blonde girl from earlier up ahead with a map leaning on part of the drop ship. She stepped closer in time to hear a guy, wearing goggles on the top of his head, make a comment about a bar and a beer.

In a matter of seconds what Max was certain was something that started out as a joke escalated pretty quickly when a group of boys stepped forward, claiming goggles was with them, and Bellamy spoke up. Max stood by and remained silent. She hadn't heard the Chancellor's message, due to her unconscious state, but if he said Mount Weather had the food and supplies vital to their survival she didn't understand why everyone was so adamant against going there.

Did they want to escape being floated only to starve to death? Or freeze? Or get a cut and die from an infection because the only readily available medical supplies were in a military base no one wanted to visit in spite?

Idiots.

They were doomed.

She was going to die surrounded by complete idiots. How comforting, she thought sarcastically.

"Are you seriously," Max finally spoke up when one of the 100 started a fight with the Chancellor's son - Wells. "Picking a fight with him," she gestured to Wells with her chin, "because his father is Chancellor? Is that making you feel better about yourself? Is it helping you compensate? Getting a little posse and starting a fight because he's," she glanced back at Bellamy briefly, "privileged? No wonder why Jaha sent us down here to -"

A hand clasped around her mouth mid-sentence. "That's enough now, Spitfire, let them get back to their," Bellamy began as he pulled her back against his chest and held her in place. She wasn't sure if he had done it to mess with her, or keep her from intervening further, but her guess would be both. "Disagreement," he continued and dropped his hand from her mouth.

"No, no," the boy who picked the fight with Wells - Murphy - began looking directly at her. "What exactly am I compensating for? And shouldn't you, of all people, have it out for the privileged little Orphan girl?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Max laughed as she tried to pull out of Bellamy's hold. Everything she did, however, only made him tighten his hold on her. "Though your apparent insecurities might be outweighing that and no I'm not going to stand here and whine about who had it better and how I had it worse."

Wells had taken the distraction to stand up and push himself back into a fighting stance despite his clearly hurt ankle. Murphy turned his attention back towards Wells and Bellamy's hold loosened around Max slightly. "I'll get back to you," Murphy said pointing in Max's direction.

"Oh! I'm counting down the seconds," she muttered under her breath - the vibration in Bellamy's chest against her back told her he had heard her.

"Let go of me Blake," She hissed as her eyes focused on Murphy and Wells. She wanted to help, wanted to stop this audacity, it was who she was.

"Not a chance, Spitfire, just calm down," he hissed, his face nearly pressed against the side of hers.

Before the fight intensified, someone jumped down from a higher point on the drop ship, a flop of hair the most distinguishable feature of the young male. "Kid's got one leg, how about you wait till it's a fair fight?" Finn said as he landed in between them. The fight dissipated and with one last glance at Wells, Murphy walked off.

"You gonna let go of me now, Blake?" Max asked after a moment passed, glancing back at the older male.

"Sure, thing, sweetheart," he said and dropped his hold on her, "next time keep your mouth shut and stay out of it, though, save me the trouble." Her eyes narrowed at his retreating back as he walked toward his younger sister.

"Jackass," Max muttered as she made her way toward Wells and dropped down on the ground beside him.

She didn't know how long she'd been watching him for, with her back pressed against a nearby tree. Rousing the crowd of delinquents with grandiose speeches of being free and living in a world without rules or consequences. He knew just what to say to get them all going, to get them eating out of the palm of his hand. Bellamy Blake seemed adamant on getting everyone to remove their wristbands.

Why, she hadn't a clue. Sure, he had no one left on the Ark. His mother had been floated when his sister was discovered, that much Max knew. She just didn't know why the hell he was so insistent on everyone - even kids with families who loved and missed them - dying in the eyes of the Ark.

It was suspicious to say the least. He was either very much against the Ark knowing they were alive or trying to rouse the group simply to gain whatever he possibly could and solidify himself as their leader.

"You gonna join the party, Spitfire?" Bellamy asked as he sauntered over to her.

"What angle are you playing, Blake?" Max asked, shifting her body so her shoulder was leaning against the tree instead. "Why so desperate for the Ark to think we're dead?"

"We deserve to be liberated," he responded, arms dangling by his sides. He hadn't changed much since she had last seen him. Looked the same, spoke the same, had the same cocky attitude she knew. He was the same Bellamy Blake only now she was experiencing what the man was like on earth and not against the wall of the janitor's closet on the Ark.

"You already were liberated, jackass," she said as she reached forward to grab his right arm. Max held it up for him to see and glanced at his wrist. "No, wristband, Blake. You're over eighteen, you weren't a prisoner, you're only here for your sister," she said dropping his arm.

"None of us will be liberated if the Ark comes down here, Sweetheart, you think they'll care about you when they come down?" He asked as he threw his hand up and used it to lean against the tree. Her tree.

"Oh, I know they won't," she laughed, "I'm not delusional, Blake. Maybe they come down here and shoot me on the spot for the crimes I've committed, maybe they follow through and pardon us," she shrugged her shoulder and pushed off of the tree with the other. "Either way, I don't care."

"I think you do, Spitfire," Bellamy said as Max took a step backward. "Can't hide behind that 'I don't give a damn' attitude forever."

"Don't act like you know me, Blake," Max said as she continued walked backwards away from him, for the second time that day. "You don't."

"Sure I do, Sweetheart," he laughed as he finally pushed himself off the tree and made his way back to the fire.

Max turned around and collided with the boy from earlier, the one she had chosen to insult in front of a crowd of delinquent teenagers. He was leering down at her, holding the piece of metal he had been using to help Blake remove wristbands with. "Can I help you?" she asked, mustering up all the faux innocence and sweetness she could.

"Yeah," he said and reached down to grip her wrist tightly. The hold wouldn't have hurt much if it hadn't been for the guard, this morning, that slammed it into the wall on her. "You can hold still."

"Yeah, not likely," she said as she tried to pull her wrist out of Murphy's grasp. "But thanks for the offer," she added her left hand forming into a fist.

"Didn't remember offering you a choice, Orphan girl," he drawled, "don't want to get another black eye do you?"

"Woah," she said as she widened her eyes. "I'm utterly terrified. Still compensating for something are we, Murphy? Threatening to hit a girl now?" She laughed. "And seriously, man, Orphan girl? Aren't you an orphan boy now too?"

Fault number one: Max's mouth and her brain rarely communicated. Actually, she was pretty sure her brain didn't communicate with her body at all - not until everything was already said or done. Not that she had any plans of changing it any time soon. She was quite content with herself. Usually.

There was whooping in the background as another one of the boys, who had apparently decided Bellamy was their almighty leader (and were clearly misguided) managed to remove another girl's wristband. "C'mon Spitfire, you're next," Bellamy called out but Max refused to break her stare with Murphy.

"I give punches as good as I get," she hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at the now seething Murphy. "So let go of me, or I swear I'll -"

"You'll what?" Murphy asked. His lips curved into a smirk.

In one swift motion, Max drew her left knee back and slammed it at an upward angle into Murphy. His hand dropped from around her wrist, at the same time she landed a left uppercut to the underside of his chin. "That," she said expelling a deep breath, "I'll do that."

"You fucking bitch," Murphy hissed as he brought his hand up to his chin.

"Next time, don't touch me," she said as she placed two hands on his chest and shoved him away from her. Max took a large step back and turned around before she started to walk back in the direction of the drop ship.

"Here I thought, a girl like you, likes to be touched," Murphy's voice rang out, effectively stopping her in her tracks.

"You trying to imply something, there, Murphy?" Max asked as she turned around. Behind him she could see Blake step away from the crowd, still chanting along with his "Whatever the hell we want" declarations.

"Struck a nerve, did I?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Murphy, go help Atom," Bellamy said as he stepped closer.

"This isn't over," Murphy responded though his words were directed at Max as opposed to Bellamy.

"Never could control your mouth, could you, Spitfire?" Bellamy asked as he stepped closer, still leaving a sizable gap between them.

"Why Blake," Max began leaning in, "I thought you liked my uncontrollable mouth."

Water began to drip down from the sky above them, and Max tilted her head upward. Rain. She had never seen, nor felt, rain before but Max had the sudden urge to throw her arms out and stand there all night. The water coming down on them, on her, was refreshing to say the least.

"We need to collect it," she heard Wells say and Max turned her attention from the sky to Wells.

"Whatever the hell you want," Bellamy had responded before walking off. She kept her eyes trained on his retreating back, curious as to why he was so hellbent on all of this.

"Max, right?" Wells' voice broke her out of her stare fest with the back of their self-proclaimed leader (if you could even call him that).

"Yeah?" She asked eyes now focused on the son of the Chancellor. That's when it hit her. The Chancellor's son was on the drop ship with the rest of the prisoners. She had suspected he'd be the type to follow the laws, never stray, because of his father. So what exactly could he have done that his own father would have ordered his arrest? She was suddenly intrigued.

"Want to help me?" He asked, a hopeful look in his eye. Sure, she had never particularly liked his father but he wasn't Thelonious Jaha. Wells couldn't be blamed for the things his father did - especially when the much older Jaha was following the laws and rules set forth well before his time. "I want to collect some of the water," he continued pointing upward to indicate the rain.

"Yeah," she said with a nod of her head, "sure."

"He's a real piece of work, isn't he?" Wells asked after several moments of them working in silence had passed between them.

"Who?" She asked without shifting her gaze from what she was doing.

"Blake. He's glaring at us, don't know what I did to get him to hate me so much," Wells said even though she was certain he knew these kids were holding grudges because his father wasn't around.

"The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children," Max quoted as she glanced up and found Bellamy looking in their direction. "People are stupid, can't differentiate the two," she said as she looked away from Blake, "but I don't think he's staring daggers into you."

"Did you know him on the Ark?" Wells asked a moment later.

Yeah, we used to have sex against the wall of one of the Ark's janitor closets. He became a janitor you know? After getting kicked out of the guard cadet program. "No," she lied.

Non 100 Quotes: "The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children". William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice.

Author's Note: I don't usually write Original Character stories because I tend to lose steam from them, but I've had so many ideas for this one ever since watching the 100 recently. I won't continue if no one is interested in the idea that I do, but I hope some people are! I actually think it's so easy to incorporate originals into the 100 because of the storyline and the vast amount of unnamed members of the 100. If anyone has some good fanfiction suggestions for the 100 originals or otherwise feel free to message me! I want to start reading some.