Chapter 1

Clarke slid the bunker door shut with a heavy thump and leaned against it, her breath held. She'd forgotten about the dead Grounder, and now the smell haunted her, reminding her of a former happiness that had shattered alongside Finn's sanity.

She sucked in a breath through her mouth, not that it helped, and turned to face the lifeless lump sprawled in the middle of the floor. Finn had pulled a tarp over it—to spare his feelings or hers, she hadn't been sure. The blood was brown now, dried on the floor. She couldn't stay here.

Nighttime or not, the stench was putrid, and it was too dark to bury the body. Not that she wanted to touch it. This place held far too many memories for her. She'd come here for a moment of peace with Finn. To remember where they'd first been together, but it was tainted.

The dead Grounder was silent in death, and yet she heard his laughter echoing in her head. Everything was tainted. Finn had massacred the innocent to find her, and she had held that against him. But what had she done? He'd taken eighteen lives—she'd taken many, many more. Children, included.

Who was the monster, here?

Finn's ghost stepped toward the middle of the room and he gazed down on the body, sorrow dimming his eyes. She couldn't stay here.

Resigned, she moved through the room and grabbed what few supplies she'd needed. She hadn't taken anything from Camp Jaha, too afraid to cross the gate, to see their faces. She searched the shelves and grabbed a small pack and blanket, fresh clothes, and a flashlight. On her way out, a small leather bound book caught her eye. She reached for it, her fingers brushing the supple material. The pages were mostly blank, and those that weren't were irrelevant. Decided, she slid the book into her pack and grabbed some pencils from the table.

Without another glance back, she left the bunker, knowing Finn would follow. Someday soon she would need to return and attend to the body. She refused to leave it there, rotting on the floor.

Tomorrow, she promised herself. She wouldn't camp too far away, close enough to be back by first light. Perhaps the bunker was tainted, but it was the only place she'd felt safe, the only place she'd felt loved. She refused to let the dead Grounder corrupt their sanctuary. Both she and Finn had done the unspeakable.

It was time to forgive him. Forgiving herself was an entirely different matter.

A soft knock roused Bellamy. He lifted his head from the pillow and glared at the door. He hadn't been asleep—far from it, but that didn't mean he appreciated the disturbance. A few moments of peace, was that so much to ask? They'd only just returned. For him, it'd been countless time within Mt. Weather. He'd been deloused, scrubbed raw until the water ran red, then hung upside down and drained like an animal. How he'd found the strength to take over Mt. Weather without any time to recuperate, he'd never know. Adrenaline and determination? Sheer stubbornness?

Either way, all he wanted was a few moments to himself.

"Bell, come on."

Octavia. "Yeah."

The door cracked open and his sister stared back at him. Or at least, the person his sister had become. He wasn't the only one that had gone through drastic changes. They became what the ground demanded of them. For him, it'd been a leader and champion of his people. For her, it'd been a warrior. It ate at him that she'd learned her ways at the Grounder's hands, but at least they'd made her strong. Stronger than him,

At least she'd washed the black paint from her face and taken out the braids. The girl who stood before him was his baby sister.

Bellamy pushed to his feet, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion.

Octavia hovered by the door for a brief moment before she slipped into the room and wound her arms around him. Relief eased the knots in his back as he held her close.

"I was worried for you," he admitted. "Raven told me you were at Ton DC."

Getting their people home had been his primary task. He hadn't taken the time to speak with his sister along the way. And when she tipped her head back, he saw the pain and horror in her eyes.

"She knew, Bell. She knew."

He nodded. Clarke. They'd learned of the bomb through his intel, but he'd thought she'd gone to stop it. "She had no choice, O."

Anger tightened her face. "Don't give me that."

"What would you have done?"

"I would have warned everyone!" She shoved away from his chest and started to pace the length of his room. "So many died, Bell!"

"To save those in Mt. Weather."

Octavia pivoted and glared at him from across the room. "To save you."

Bellamy blinked. "Come again?"

"Clarke didn't care say a word about the others in Mt. Weather. She said it was to protect you. If they'd evacuated, Mt. Weather would have known we had an inside man."

She hadn't been wrong—they would have. But they'd found out eventually. It changed nothing, though. They'd rescued their people. It was over.

"It's done, Octavia. Let it go."

"Let it go?" She shook her head. "You're as bad as her. Those were Lincoln's people."

He nodded, but didn't speak.

"You really don't care?"

Oh, he cared. But if he'd been in Clarke's shoes, he might have done the same.

"She trusted Lexa, Bellamy! She trusted—"

"The very same people you chose to follow."

Octavia's mouth snapped shut, her eyes wide.

Bellamy watched his sister, noting the steel that was now her spine, the strength in her shoulders and arms. "You became Indra's second. You painted your face and wore your hair like them. You fought side-by-side with them. That's the only reason you're upset about this. Clarke had to make the hard choices. Before you start accusing her of being heartless, put yourself in her shoes."

Octavia scoffed and shook her head. "I can't believe you."

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "If you came here to get a rise out of me, it's not going to happen. We all made our choices and now we have to live with them."

"You've changed," she accused.

"Ditto, little sister."

"You're in love with her."

Bellamy blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You don't think I see it?" A rough laugh tumbled from her lips. "I've always seen it. Maybe you don't realize—"

"I am not in love with Clarke."

Octavia pinned him with a mocking stare. "It'll never happen between you two."

"What are you going on about?"

"She murdered Finn, Bell! You think she's just going to bounce back from that and walk into your arms?"

His brow creased. "I think you need to get some sleep."

Octavia laughed again and did another loop around the room. "And here I thought you were intelligent. Good night, big brother."

Bellamy didn't respond. He simply watched from his post as Octavia slipped out of his room and closed the door behind him with a slow click. In love with Clarke? He almost laughed. She was his closest friend, sure, but that was all. Yes, he cared about her and worried about her. Laughing under his breath, he dropped down onto his bed.

He tried to put himself in Clarke's shoes. Would he have made the same choice as her? Drop a bomb on Ton DC? Octavia was right, there were always other choices—but it wasn't easy to see them in that dire moment when a decision had to be made. It was easy to look in from the outside and point out mistakes. Clarke had done the best she could with the situation provided. Who knew the massacre that might have happened if they'd learned of his presence earlier? It was become of him that they'd managed to bring down the acid fog and hold off the torture of their friends.

No, Clarke had made the right choice. Now, if only he could tell her that.

Clarke dabbed the sweat from her brow and removed the makeshift mask she'd made from her mouth. It'd taken all morning, but she'd managed to drag the Grounder from the bunker and bury him. All that remained was cleaning out the bunker. Part of her feared she would never get the smell out, but she refused not to try.

A couple days airing it out would help. As for the blood, she wasn't sure how she'd get that up. It wasn't as though there were cleaning products just lying around.

She rose from the cairn, her hand falling to the pistol at her hip when a twig snapped just off in the distance. Technically, she had a truce with the Grounders, but if she'd learned anything from her time on Earth, it was that there were other things out there.

Hell, she and Lexa had nearly been ripped to shred by a gorilla not a few weeks ago. Who knew what other beasts the forest housed?

Another twig snapped. Clarke dropped low, her gaze raking through the thick coppice.

Muttered words came next. Trigedasleng, if she wasn't mistaken. All her time spent with the Grounders and she'd only learned a few phrases. Whoever was out there, they spoke too quickly for her to decipher anything.

A pair of Grounders came into view, one being dragged by the other. The last thing Clarke wanted was to startle or panic them, but she could see one was injured. She rose slowly, her hands help up so they could see she meant no harm.

She knew the moment they spotted her. The one Grounder reached for their blade, shouting something across the distance.

"I am Clarke, of the Sky People," she called back. Their words fell silent and Clarke took it upon her to approach slowly. "What happened?"

"Reaper…" the Grounder rasped. "They say…they say you can help."

She nodded. "I can, but we need to get him someplace safe."

The Grounder shook his head. "Ton DC gone. We have a small village…"

"Take me with you. I'll help, I swear it."

The Grounder studied her before his gaze shifted to his friend. Clarke followed, noting the blood shot eyes and bloodstained face. They'd found Lincoln much the same and she'd brought him back. But it wouldn't be easy.

"We need to hurry," Clarke told him. "Can we get there before he wakes? He needs to be restrained."

A firm nod. "Come, Clarke of the Sky People."

She glanced back at the bunker once more, noting that Finn stood next to the door, silently pleading with her to stay with him. She couldn't. Finn was gone. She swallowed and shouldered her pack.

"Goodbye," she whispered to him before she vanished into the trees with the Grounder.