Note:- I hope you enjoy this, I understand it doesn't follow exactly, but that's the goal :)

Just a bit of a preface, my character is called by two different names throughout the story; a personal nickname, Aggie (ag - gee), and the name she goes most by, Myles (miles, lol). I'm sure this can be a bit confusing but it will make sense in the end! Also, my Myles is NOT the same person as the shows Myles, there's just two different Myles in this story :)

Heart beating fast, her pulse thundering under her pale skin as if trying to claw its way out. Legs and back burning, is she running? The flashes of various shades of grey mash with the dull colours of things centuries old, why is she running? Wait, everything's stopped. Home, she's home, is that why she's stopped? Vibrant red hair that puts her surroundings to shame whips around back and forth, her harsh panting and pounding heart the only remnants of distress.

Then she hears it. Majestic melodic singing fills the air. They're simple, slow notes, that fully encapsulate the raw beauty in the voice. The familiarity of it causes her to completely freeze, stilling and holding her breath. Slowly, she turns her head so her delicate features face to her left, hazel eyes locking on the form of a woman slumped over the table. Deep auburn hair fanning over the table and a slender left arm hanging limply is all she can discern of the woman.

Was the woman there when the girl had come in? The soft, comforting notes register in her ears a second before she's slowly rising from her knees. When had she fallen? The young girls mind is scattered and she's still holding her breath. Not making more than a few steps before freezing again, a simple heart-shaped locket peeking through the red-brown locks has the young girl releasing her breath. A graceful smile accompanies her sagging shoulders as relief floods through her.

Somethings wrong still. The young girl can feel the dread still suffocating the room. Her calmed heart starts its frantic beating once more when fearful hazel eyes spy a colour gently blooming across the table. A colour she's long since despised having on her head.

Eyes snapping open, the girls rigid body is lying flat on the metal floor. Her pale hand immediately grabbing for the woman's locket as it lay on her chest. Eyes slipping closed again and letting out a breath as the cool metal makes contact with her thin fingers. She sits up, right hand still covering the locket on her chest, and the red haired girl can feel her heart slowing down.

Hunching over slightly, she brings her left hand up to her face for a second before she pulls it through her vibrant hair. Craning her neck, her disinterested eyes flick across the all-too-familiar grey box. Blank hazel eyes stopping when they reach a section of panel covered in deep scratches. Tallies. Two thousand, four hundred and eighty-nine tallies for 2,489 days.

One more day.

Lifting her right hand up to bring the locket to her lips, she plants a kiss on it, before dropping it gently back onto her chest, to rest above her dark green tank top. The girl lifts her right knee up so she can stabilise herself as she reaches towards a pile of books and slips a pocketknife out from where it lay hidden in the hole through the pages. Rolling herself lightly to her feet, vacant look still present in her eyes, she gingerly makes her way over to the desecrated wall. As soon as she's in front of it, she lowers herself to a squat, bouncing slightly. The sound the knife makes as it carves in another tally is familiar, and oddly comforting.

Two thousand, four hundred and ninety. Pulling her arm back when she's finished, the redhead rocks on her feet, twirling the blade around in her hands. It's almost time. She could feel it throbbing under her skin like static electricity, making her fidgety. Red flies around her as the girl whips her head to the door.

A twisted feeling of excitement blooms from her chest, sending a soothing warmth through her veins. Hands now stilled, she stands slowly, menacingly and takes a few almost predatory steps to the middle of the grey cell. A satisfying click reverberates around her as she flicks the blade shut. Tucking it into her worn, dark jeans; she prepares herself for what will inevitably transpire before tomorrow ends.

Raking her bony fingers through her ridiculously long, bright hair, she thinks of her mother. The colour of her hair feels as if it's the only part she might recognise of her daughter. The Ark tries to paint a pretty picture of the opportunity to rejoin society after your trial, but everyone knows no one makes it out of a trial alive.

A remarkably unladylike snort echoes through the cell as the disdainful thought passes through the red-haired girls mind. Turning around to face the wall opposite the door, she stares at more metal, with knot-free hair. Fingers reach back up to bring all her hair into one tight braid down from the middle of her head to end just below her lower back, she ponders the last six years.

Six years, nine months and twenty-five days. Eighty-one months and twenty-five days. 59,760 hours of this tiny metal box. 3,585,600 minutes of nothing, not even a window. 215,136,000 seconds of solitary. Not that it was very consistent solitary. The redhead had more to her than her looks, using her quick thinking and agility to get herself out of this mind-numbing metal cage when she wanted to bad enough.

It's why they hated her. They couldn't catch her, couldn't stop her, and couldn't keep her locked up. Over the years, they had tried modifying her lockbox until she couldn't slip through any more nicks and crannies. A specific visitor who came by to see her more times than not in a week, bringing her all sorts of books to keep her busy and learning, no doubt trying to encourage her to stay in the damn cell.

With her hair neatly braided, she dipped her shoulder and leant back, the obnoxious slouch allowing her to view the door. Hazel eyes and rosy lips lit up with a dangerous eagerness. Unlike most others, she wasn't distraught when she was caught, in fact, she had calmly walked herself right up to a member of the guard and handed herself in. That day she was ready, and she's been ready everyday since.

Dropping down to do some push-ups, she prepares for the fight that's about to come her way. It's not about trying to get away, it's a pettiness, a 'I've already lost it all, I'm already dead - why not?' mentality that makes her dangerous. Reckless. It's why she got arrested, isn't it? Her 'what's the point?' way of thinking?

Flipping over to lie on her back she brings her knees up and crosses her slender but strong arms across her chest and starts doing sit-ups. A familiar sense of sorrow wafts through her as she contemplates what she's spent the last six years waiting for. Mind wondering to how many of the guards that will walk into her cell tomorrow might have spouses and children at home who depend on their work credits and ration cards to survive. How many of them will there be who are dearly loved by their parents and friends?

Jumping to her feet, the redhead starts jogging around her small cell, barely making it to lap four before her regular workout routine is interrupted by a heavy sense of dread. Her quiet jog slows as she takes cautious steps towards the door. Something's happening. Turning her head so her ear is up against the door, the girl strains to hear something, anything.

Coming up empty-handed, her gentle features furrow slightly as her eyebrows draw closer to each other, one singular crease forming on her forehead. Quickly turning around to pick up and hide under her clothes the second of the two knives she'd stashed over the years. Barely hiding the last one in the thin chunk of fabric currently operating as her bra before she hears it.

Slamming the book shut, the red haired girl moves to the middle of the cell to stare at her door in complete confusion. Her prior assumption of them coming to get her a day early replaced with a new conclusion; they're floating them all. To save oxygen, she presumes.

The bright girl had seen the signs and heard the whispers on her small, unpermitted outings of the oxygen being lowered or shut off completely in certain sections. Life support was failing, you'd have to be ignorant to not see it clear as glass – at least to her. Doesn't change anything, she's still not going down without a fight.

Heavy clunking footsteps march towards her door and she smiles as they open her door. Two guards step into the room immediately and pull their batons out. A delicate eyebrow raised, she eyes the guard still in the doorframe when one of the men in the room speaks.

"Prisoner 217, turn around and face the wall with your arms up." The man demands, the redhead has seen him around before, Sergeant Bailey, he's the kind of man who doesn't toe the line but stands clear on one side or the other. Face relaxing slightly, she tilts her head up in defiance and slouches slightly.

"Prisoner 217, comply or we'll use force." She knows him too, he's just a guardsman but loves to talk tough. His name doesn't come to mind, but it won't matter in a few minutes, she can already see how the scene will play out.

What's a little more blood?

The girl takes a threatening step forward and it's all it takes for Sergeant Bailey to come at her with his shock baton ready, but she expects it. Six years of back and forth with the guard has taught her well.

She ducks left and uses his own momentum to thrust them both into the second guardsman, knocking him slightly. Using the momentary drop in their defences against them, the redhead throws herself into the two to escape the third guards advances, and shoves Sgt. Bailey's arm with the shock baton towards him, knocking the guardsman down. The guard the girl is leaning against wraps his arms around hers to subdue her as Sgt. Bailey regains his footing, and sets his sights on her as she's flailing as hard as she can to get out of his coworkers grip.

Seeing his next move, she throws her head back as hard as she can, crimson blood blending into her bright red hair. Kicking her right leg up, she hooks it around Sgt. Baileys fast approaching arm to catch the blow, swinging her left leg to toe his knee-pit. Gripping her captors left arm with both her hands, the redheaded girl flings herself under his left arm, bringing both the Sergeant and herself to the floor.

Having recovered from the shock baton, the third guard tackles the girl before she can hop to her feet and pins her to the hard metal ground. Spying a guardsman with a badly broken nose approaching, shock baton in hand, out of the corner of her eye, the red haired girl panics. Breathing hard, she bring a jean clad leg between the guards two, and shoves her foot with all her might in his hip, throwing him off her.

The bloody-faced guard shocks her with his baton, but the blow hardly slows the adrenaline rushed teen, arm reaching up to grab his wrist and yanking. She throws her leg up again and knees him as she pulls him toward her, arm still on his and shoving him face-first into the floor. Arm pinned behind his back, and her knee keeping him down, she's left herself with no time to avoid the Sergeants arms.

As he jerks her away from the bloodied guard, she's already fighting back, twisting and throwing punches that make sickening crunches bounce off the walls of the cell when they land.

"Enough!" A firm, all-too-familiar voice bellows with authority into the room. The guardsmen both freeze, but the Sergeant shows no signs of stopping, even when the teen goes still, as he throws her to the wall and holds her down.

"Sir, she resisted our –", the Sergeant cuts off as the voice fills the room once again.

"I said; that's enough. I would like a moment with the Prisoner. Alone." His tone says there's no room for compromise as his footsteps are heard entering the cell.

"Councillor Kane, I res –", the Sergeants concerns are again dismissed as Councillor Kane responds with only one word.

"Now."

The teen slumps slightly as she's let go, her hazel eyes immediately searching out the familiar eyes of the one person she really didn't want to see before she died. Her strong resolve to fight with everything she had leaves her almost as soon as she meets his tired hazel eyes. Eyes filling up with tears, she visibly sags. His hands jut out slightly, but they both stay still until the guards leave.

"Oh, Aggie," he says softly, a stark difference from his booming voice a minute ago. It's a voice, a part of himself, he doesn't normally show, save for a few lucky people. Likewise, there aren't many people who exist who she lets know and use the nickname Aggie. Kane takes a step toward her, but Aggie steps back, shaking her head and he falters slightly.

"Please, Uncle Marcus, don't do this today," the redheads voice is crackly and croaks painfully from underuse.

Whether it was the words, or hearing the sound of her voice for the first time in months that did it, she doesn't know, but in the blink of an eye, Marcus is engulfing the teen in a hug. Taking a deep breath to stop the tears she was sure wouldn't exist today, she wraps her arms tightly around the closest person she's ever had to a real dad. A hand on the back of her head and one on her back soothingly rubbing up and down the thick, deep white scars littering her exposed skin, he shushes her, telling her it's going to be alright.

"You have to let me go now, Markie," the nickname gets a short choked, watery laugh from the older man. Shaking his head, he pulls back to look at her face with a small smile on his face. Hands on either shoulder he shakes her lightly, Aggie moving limping with the motion.

"Not yet, I don't," the wistful way he says this with a little smile on his face is what helps the redhead harden herself again.

"You're in denial," she responded dryly. Over the six years she'd been in the Skybox, she'd tried to remind him as tactfully as she could manage the she was a dead girl walking, but he'd still clung onto hope. When the new Chancellor was elected, Chancellor Jaha, Marcus had been ecstatic, as if this was her one way ticket to life back on the Ark.

"You're not being floated," Marcus replied, the hopeful tone not going unnoticed by the red haired girl. When she didn't say anything, he continued, "they're sending one hundred prisoners to Earth, and I've gotten you a spot on the dropship. You're not going to be floated."

Aggie's mind raced, Earth? It was survivable? She wasn't going to be floated? Shaking her head, Aggie reaches an arm upward and grabs Marcus' forearm. "No, they need to float me." The conviction in her voice would've broken the Councillors heart had he not already decided it didn't matter much how she felt about it, he was getting her on that dropship.

Kane moves his hands to cup her face as he tries to reason with her, "Earth could be survivable," he doesn't stop as she starts frantically shaking her head, "and I know you, if anyone knows how to survive - it's you."

"I need to die, Marcus," she pleads back to him.

"You are the closest thing I have to a daughter. I'm not letting you die," he says it so firmly it takes her aback for a minute. Marcus can see the cogs turning in her brain as she lowers her eyes, the one forehead crease she gets when she concentrates appearing. She's torn and in pain, wanting only one more fight and not a lifetime more of it, she's already seen too much of it.

"You don't deserve to die, Aggie," he says in earnest, bringing the teens eyes back to his. "Use everything you know, everything I taught you. You helped a lot of people. You'll see quite a few who you'll recognise down there, okay? That's who you are, someone who is kindhearted, and would give the shirt off your back, don't lose that."

Aggie nods, taking in every word with wide hazel eyes, "okay," she agrees meekly, voice cracking, but she can't go without knowing one thing. "Is my dad alive?"

Taken aback, Marcus can only nod an answer. Two pairs of hazel eyes stay locked for another moment before the older of the two pulls away. Head snapping to a spot on the floor just beside the door where a jacket, boots and a box sit haphazardly. Aggie sighs heavily, she hadn't even noticed he'd dropped them when he broke up her scrap with the guards. Earth is going to be rough.

"Put these on," Marcus says simply, as he picks up the items, handing the boots to Aggie. Once she's got them on and laced up he opens the box, revealing the metal band that's inside. "You're going to need to wear this too, it monitors your vital signs."

Nodding, the redhead holds her left wrist up for the band. Marcus plucks the band out of the box and pries it open, only to snap it around the thin, pale wrist in front of him. The feeling of several needles piercing her skin and a little bit of blood trickling under the band isn't pleasant, but Aggie doesn't react at all, the pain barely registering.

Passing her the jacket, Marcus' eyes hold a different emotion in them now, and Aggie knows as she puts it on that it's time to say goodbye.

"It's time to go now. We'll follow you guys down in two months, so... stay alive. Okay?" Kane asks, looking down at the mischievous girl he's tried to do right by for the last fourteen years. Nodding thoughtfully, the red haired teen lifts up both wrists and holds them out to the older man. "I'm sorry for this," the councillor says with a look of remorse on his face as he pulls the handcuffs out of his pants pocket.

The red braid swings as she shakes her head and shrugs with one shoulder, snorting. Marcus sighs at the behaviour as he loosely puts the cuffs on. They walk in a comfortable silence down the hallway, there are only a few teenagers being pulled from their cells now, everyone else having already been taken to the dropship. Once they make it to the back of the line of delinquents, Marcus turns Aggie around, keeping his hand on her shoulder.

"May we meet again," he says sorrowfully, hating that he has to say the traditional goodbye of the Ark to the girl he views as his child.

"May we meet again, Uncle Marcus," she repeats wholeheartedly, reaching her cuffed hands up to clasp his gently for a moment before he pulls away. Aggie watches as he walks away, hoping he won't be mad, knowing that the first thing she'll do if she survives the landing and radiation is die.

The line moves quickly, it only takes a few minutes until the redhead crosses the threshold and she scans around it quickly before she's ushered up a ladder. The craft looks as if it's been patched over and over with whatever scrap metal they could get their hands on, and the thought sends a cold wave of anxiety through her chest. Almost all the seats fitted in lower level were occupied, including a handful strapped directly to a far wall. Marcus was right, there are quite a few faces she recognises.

"All the way to the top," a deep voice commands under her, Aggie complies, climbing up until there was no more ladder.

Quickly spying an empty seat on the third level, the red haired teen drops herself down between two boys. The guard steps forward to follow her, hands raised and clearly headed for Aggie's cuffs. Knowing he's after the handcuffs, the girl pulls a short, thin fragment of a needle out of where she'd stabbed it through her pants as a placeholder and gets to work. Being a manoeuvre she's gotten very good at over the years, it's seconds before the handcuffs are unlocked and hanging off her slender wrists.

Sliding the needle between two fingers to keep it out of the guards sceptical eye, Aggie hands the handcuffs to the guardsman with a bright smile. The look of utter appall on his face amuses her greatly, and the boy to her right snickers. The girl doesn't break eye contact with the guard, not even as he reaches a hand forward haltingly to grasp the handcuffs and eyes her with disdain. Whatever fight he'd been debating on having with the redhead is quickly decided against, instead he turns and makes his way down the ladder.

Feeling eyes on her, Aggie pointedly doesn't look at the teen directly to her left who's openly staring, bug-eyed, at her and opts instead to have her eyes skilfully peruse the level she's on. Most of the teens are already seated, but a few are still being directed to seats. The red haired teen goes stiff, not even daring to take a breath when she spies two boys strapped to the wall farthest away from her.

Aggie never thought she'd see them again, after all these years. They seem happy. Talking and gesturing so earnestly she can almost hear them. Goggles and deep brown hair bouncing together on the slightly taller, lanky teen as he radiates excitement. The ever patient of the three sitting directly to his right listening and reciprocating whatever sentiments the former is sharing.

Jasper Jordan and Monty Green. JJ and Greenie. When did they get arrested? They can't be here. They need to be back in their homes, safe from whatever this hunk of space junk or Earth might bring. It's been six years since she's seen their faces and though the white hot searing of anxiety prickles under her skin, Aggie's heart swells knowing they've remained close all these years.

They haven't noticed her, and she decides to move her gaze elsewhere. Newly-determined hazel eyes stop on a girl across from her as a guard straps her into her seat, Aggie's hands reach up for the straps and pull them down to secure them around herself, tightly. Taking a deep breath, the redhead steels herself for her new resolve. She'll try and survive with her best friends so they can be reunited with their families in two months, and then she'll die like she's supposed to.

The redheads roaming eyes stop when they reach another two she wouldn't have thought she'd see here, vibrant red eyebrows shooting up to her hairline. Clarke Griffin and Wells Jaha? A half-hearted scoff leaves her rosy lips as she's reminded of the brutality of the Ark, but the Chancellors son and the daughter of a highly regarded council member and doctor, here? That's so cold it almost puts space to shame. Aggie hadn't known the teens personally, having never spoken to Wells and only making polite conversation with Clarke in passing, but she knew their parents.

The dark skinned boy is barely a boy anymore, the handsome young man has grown up a lot in the last six years, but the feeling the pale girl gets from him doesn't sit right. Fidgety hands and fast moving eyes give away his unease, not that Aggie could blame him. There won't be many people here who haven't been scorned greatly by his father. The blonde girl to his right is as beautiful as the last time she saw her, even slumped over, unconscious, mirroring several others around them.

The black haired boy beside her is still staring at her. Waiting another beat before she gives in, and turns her head slightly to meet his eyes. Barely contained excitement bubbling inside his baby-blue eyes clashes with feigned disinterested hazel. Aggie knows him, specifically his family. They had been one of her frequent drop-offs.

The eye contact doesn't deter his eagerness or his staring, but they both remain silent. Unsure of what to do to get this to stop, Aggie quirks an eyebrow up to try and convey 'get on with it'. All she gets in response is a blinding smile as he tears his eyes away to look at the few guards still present, and the redhead gets the hint.

Going back to minding her own business, it's not a second after the guard shuts the hatch above the ladder on his way out that the boy turns back to her and speaks.

"Please tell me you're not a real ghost this time, right?" The friendly way with how he says the joking words causes her amused eyes to snap back to his. Aggie doesn't respond, merely choosing to instead wink with a kind smile and he brightens. "You look good for someone who's spent the last 6 years in solitary. Surprisingly less insane that I would've imagined you'd be."

Red eyebrows dancing around her delicate features are his only sign she's participating in this conversation. A loud clanging and the sound of metal scraping against metal can be heard and felt through every one of the teenagers bodies as the dropship disembarks the Ark. Someone to her left quips something about lifting off, followed by the gut-churning sensation of her stomach dropping and shrieks from some of the girls around her.

The pale girl only clenches her teeth and faces forward, as she listens to the sounds around her. Startled noises were the only sounds coming from inside the dropship for a moment before both cheery and fearful chatter waft around, mingling together. The dark haired teen turns to Aggie again, breathing heavily.

"So, how in the universe did they get you, anyway? The 'thief the Ark couldn't catch'?" He asks, as if the question had been burning his mind for the last 6 years. Perhaps it had. Slowly, a red eyebrow raises up, curiously. He has to know, right? Didn't they announce it? Do the people on this dropship not know? The silence he gets as a response encourages him to continue.

"It's just – it was such a shock, you know?" Licking his lips nervously, he elaborates, "we all just thought you were late for drop-offs and then you never showed up! They didn't announce they arrested you until a week later, but we could never figure it out. We were all worried."

Aggie's expression pinches slightly, as her eyebrows draw together.

They don't know. The teen in front of her mistakes the target of her confused expression. "Sorry," he adds on quickly, "you probably don't remem-"

"Atom, I remember." Aggie interrupts, and he smiles widely. Atom had looked up to the girl, as most everyone who knew of her antics did, and had considered her a friend, rather than just a meal ticket. There weren't many families Aggie would meet with when other children were around, in order to keep the young thief's identity a secret, but his family was an exception.

Atom opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by a projected message playing in the centre of the dropship. A prerecorded message from the Chancellor fills the room, and the teens turn their attention to it.

"Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now. You've been given a second chance, and as your Chancellor," Aggie rolls her eyes, "it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself. We have no idea what is down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would've sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable."

"Your dads a dick, Wells!" A boy from her right yells, as those around her snicker. Aggie turns, eyebrow raised to Atom who meets her eyes and chuckles.

"Those crimes will be forgiven, your records wiped clean." Atom eyes her and the redhead can see the relief in his eyes through her peripherals. "The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain three hundred people for up to two years."

Aggie doesn't hear the last of his message, distracted by the turbulence of the dropship and the shrieks around her as they drop to zero-g. Cheers erupt from her left, causing her to turn her head and raise an eyebrow at the shaggy-haired boy wearing a beanie as he floats through the metal ship.

"Spacewalk bandit strikes again!" Someone to her right shouts, promptly followed by more cheers and laughter. Dark brown mischievous eyes meet hers, and he pulls himself to float past her.

"Hey, gorgeous, long time no see," Spacewalker says with a smirk. Aggie can't remember if his name is Finn or Flynn, but knows he was in one of her classes when she was a kid. Always too bored for his own good.

"Too boring in your seat?" The redhead playfully shoots back with a shake of her head.

"You know it," the brown haired boy replies, winking. He propels himself in front of

Wells and a now-awake Clarke. "Check it out," he says to Wells, crossing his arms, "you're dad floated me after all."

Idiot.

Aggie snorts with a smile and Atom chuckles, shaking his head. Turning her attention away, Aggie only has a moment to lean her head back before the ship shakes again and Clarke is yelling at two kids unbuckling themselves across from the trio. Completely disregarding the blondes warnings, they float out of their seats.

"You must locate those supplies immediately." Chancellor Jaha says in the background, his voice hardly reaching Aggie through the haze of chatter.

Spacewalker, Clarke and Wells are still going back and forth, but the redhead pays no mind. Choosing to instead try and reconcile how drastically the day has changed.

"Thank you," Atom says, disrupting the pale girls thoughts. Red eyebrows shoot up in question, urging the teen to elaborate, "for all you did for us. I owe you."

Without warning, the dropship jerked violently and the three floating boys flew across the cabin, slamming into the metal walls. Sparks rained down on the teens as people let out loud screams. Aggie held tight to the straps keeping her in her seat, stomach churning harshly.

"Consider us even," Aggie said loudly, over the sounds of shrieking teens and the dropship entering Earths atmosphere, plummeting to the ground. Atom looked at her quizzically and opened his mouth to respond when the red haired girl spoke again, "I gave myself up." The look of bewilderment that crossed his face would've been amusing if they weren't about to die a fiery death.

No. The thought causes her hazel eyes to snap towards her two best friends, her brothers in all but blood. We're gonna live, screwing her eyes shut, Aggie repeats those three words over and over. We're gonna live, we're gonna live, we're gonna live.

A heavy resonating thud can be felt through the entire dropship as it crashes into the Earth forcefully. They're not moving anymore, and the realisation has Aggie's eyes wide open and she takes a few deep breaths as the lights flicker once more.

"Listen," Monty calls from across the room, drawing the redheads gaze to the two. Aggie's heart clenches painfully hearing his voice for the first time in six years, "no machine hum."

"Whoa," Jasper follows, and Aggie sags visibly, as if hearing their voices released a weight off her shoulders, "that's a first."

A loud click ripples through the dropship as the seatbelts unclasp. The red haired girl wastes no time in throwing them to the side and jumping out of her seat, dizzily. Atom reaches a hand out to steady her and Aggie uses it to pull him up. Relieved laughter and quiet words flutter through the level.

"Come on," Atom urges, tugging on Aggie's arm, leading them both to the hatch when she hears it.

"Aggie?" It's a hushed whisper but the voice she knows so well, it's as if her ears were programmed to only hear their voices in a room. Digging her heel into the floor, and spinning around, her eyes flicker between theirs. Monty let's out a shocked laugh and then they're rushing towards her, wrapping their arms tightly around her.

Jasper lifts her slightly and Aggie flings her arms around the two boys, giggling. There's shouting behind her but none of them register the words.

"You're alive!" Jasper exclaims as they pull away, the three of them keeping their hands on each other as if afraid to let go.

"We're alive!" Aggie amends joyfully, shaking both their shoulders for emphasis.

Monty pulls her into another embrace, "we missed you so much, you wouldn't believe everything that's happened!" It's as if the three of them were the only ones on Earth, the 97 other delinquents don't exist as the friends catch up.

"Yeah, get this," Jasper joins in, pulling the two in and squeezing as hard as he can. Ducking his head down between theirs, and whispering out, "Rosie and Dylan hooked up! Who would've seen that coming? Insanity!" Aggie snorts, as they half pull out of the hug.

"And Joe had to be taken out of Earth Skills, twice!" Monty loudly proclaims.

"What? Earth Skills was a breeze!" Aggie concurs, puzzled expression merging with her bright smile. She'd only had a few classes before she was arrested, but she had spent the last two weeks going over as much of the material as possible, now she understood why. Aggie isn't sure if any of the other prisoners had to do the same, but being in solitary, she had to do the course one on one with Pike.

"Please! It was a snooze-fest," Jasper whines, "at least in the Skybox's course, Murphy made it interesting." The two chuckle looking at each other and pulling a face, before facing Aggie again, who's eyebrows have lifted themselves into her hairline again.

"Uh-oh, what?" The redhead jokes, laughing. Her slender shoulders still slumped in absolute relief that her best friends can pick up with her like it had been six hours instead of years.

Monty leans in and lowers his voice, dead serious. Peering around as if afraid Murphy, who was nowhere in sight, would hear, "he was just messing about, and Pike punched him."

Aggie pales and her eyes bulge, "what!?"

"Yeah," Jasper nods, "said the 'key to survival is to never stop fighting, this is life or death, no one is coming to help you.'" The mocking way he says it, in a silly deep voice does nothing to clear up the look of horror on the older girls face.

"It was brutal," Monty says seriously, shaking his head lightly, "Murphy was just trying to be funny." For the first time since they embraced, Aggie removes her hands from her friends, and gestures, blinking dramatically, to portray her perplexity. Jasper snorts and Monty breaks into a face-splitting smile, happy to finally be reconnected with their friend.

Suddenly, a whoosh of air flies up the hatch and everything stills.

"Did they open the door?" Monty whispers to his friends, the three of them now staring at the hatch. A beat passes and then the two boys are barrelling through, dragging Aggie with them to stand with a handful of other delinquents at the hatch.

It's only then Aggie realises Atom isn't on the level with them anymore. It's quiet for just a second more and then they hear a young girl scream three words from the bottom of the dropship.

"WE'RE BACK, BITCHES!"

And suddenly everyone on the level under them is piling into their hatch. Jasper flies down the ladder, and Monty guides Aggie to go next with a gentle hand on her back, then quickly following his two best friends.

When they reach the dropship door, which is wide open and acting as a ramp out of the craft, Aggie stops. Monty rushes past her, tugging her arm slightly, causing her to step onto the ramp, but she doesn't follow. The redhead stands there for a moment, scanning the green in shock before her eyes follow the sounds of her friends amazed laughter, watching them spin around in adoration.

Her hazel gaze moves to the only other person still close to the dropship. Seeing a man wearing a guards uniform causes her to furrow her eyebrows. Dark brown, almost black hair slicked back and olive skin stands with his back toward her a few steps away from the ramp. Aggie is annoyed until he turns slightly, casually, to watch a few of the teens run through the trees to their right.

He's not a guard. Aggie knows guards. No way they send a guard down here to let the prisoners run wild, rampant. His posture, the way he holds himself, gives away his lack of training and experience. An oddly shaped bump on his left hip catches her eye. Hazel eyes stay locked on it as he turns back to face in front of him and Aggie can tell exactly what's hidden under his tucked-in shirt.

A gun. Curiouser and curiouser.

That explains how he got ahold of the uniform and onto the dropship. Knowing he's not a member of the guard causes Aggie to relax slightly, leaning back she finally walks off the ramp. As she's walking to her friends, she passed the man, and glances at him. Deep brown eyes, freckles, arrogant smirk and chiseled jawline meet her glance, and she quickly tears her eyes away from his, hurrying over to her friends. He's not too much older than her, maybe a few years.

She's seen those eyes before, knows exactly who he is and why he's here. Flashes of a beautiful woman, long dark brown hair to match her eyes, standing in a small closet.

"You're a little younger than I was expecting," she says, tired brown eyes and kind smile radiate warmth from the woman. She listens as the young redhead babbles on and on, responding accordingly to whatever the young girl says, as if the girl was her own daughter. When the little girl is finished with her rambling, she asks the woman what she needs. "Well, you see, my son and I go through our rations a bit too quickly, you wouldn't be able to help with that, would you?"

The Blake's. A family Aggie's only ever met one member of, yet she knows those eyes so well. Damn, she's gonna need a new plan. Again.

"That's a beautiful name! My name's Aurora," the skinny woman is gentle and kind, as if she's happy to just have the conversation, and she very quickly becomes one of the young redheads most frequent drop-offs.

A few steps away from Jasper and Monty, Aggie lifts her eyes and scans for the Blake girl as she walks the remaining distance, knowing that the only reason the son would be here is for his sister. It doesn't take long to find her, spinning slowly not too far from her brother, the familiar smile on her face. The only second child on the Ark for quite some time.

With a dazzling smile, the brunette leans down to the young red haired girls level, taking a discreet bag from her small hands. "Thank you," the kind woman says the two words with such conviction, kind eyes conveying her genuine appreciation.

"You're welcome, Miss Rory."

"Look where we are, Myles! Look!" Jaspers excitement is contagious, as he pulls her closer and shakes her slightly, she feels as if he's sharing his joy with her.

"We made it!" The redhead shouts, slinging her arms around both their shoulders.

"Here, feel this! It's MOSS!" Monty's ecstatic words broaden his friends smiles even more, shoving her hand, still around his shoulders, into the side of a tree rather awkwardly. Aggie can feel eyes on her, but she ignores it, favouring instead to focus on her friends.

Laughing happily, she does as she's told, feeling the bright green clumps. "Woah."

"Isn't this amazing," Jasper says, awestruck, pulling his two friends further into the trees, "holy shit." Looking up, the light that streams through the densely packed treetops is stunning. Aggie's arms slip off their shoulders and she holds her hands up, as if to try and catch the beams of sunlight raining over them. The three of them giggle like they're kids again, marvelling at the world before them, before Jasper breaks their stupor.

"Now, if only we could find the right plants," wiggling his eyebrows at his best friend, Aggie shakes her head, bright smile still firmly in place.

"Is that what you two got picked up for?" She teases, knocking Monty's shoulder lightly.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he replies, chuckling. Jasper snorts, and then they're all laughing.

Jasper, chuckling, plants a hand heavily onto the Asian boys shoulder, "dude." The boys start up laughing again, and for the first time since they locked eyes on the dropship, Aggie remembers the reality of 6 years apart.

Taking the opportunity of the boys being distracted, hazel eyes flick out to search for the eyes staring at her. She finds them easily, deep brown a few steps from where he was moments before. Eyes lock, and the redhead waits for him to look away. He doesn't.

Aurora Blake loved listening to the bright young girl talking away, it was why she made sure she was there for every single drop-off. So, it was extremely concerning, to say the least, when the red haired girl turned up for a drop-off, merely smiled a polite smile that didn't reach her hazel eyes in greeting, handed the beautiful woman the bag, and turned on her heel to leave.

Aggie lazily turns, leaning back even more, posture obnoxious and predatory.

"It's okay," the kind woman soothed, holding her tightly as the young girl cried. A gentle hand cradled the back of her head, "you're okay."

A single red eyebrow raises, her body language nothing short of a challenge. If you'd never met the kind-hearted Aurora Blake, you'd not be able to reconcile the young mans eyes and smirk as anything but cocky.

"If you ever need anything," the brunette says kindly, holding the young redhead at arms length, "you find Bellamy or me, okay?"

Bellamy breaks eye contact first, his sister bouncing up next to him. Aggie makes use of the distraction to move away, Jasper and Monty talking to themselves about something she doesn't understand. Soft, silent footsteps make their way around to the back of the dropship, brown eyes never catching her swift, soundless exit. A learned trick from sneaking around the Ark for so long.

A young girl sits against a tree not too far from the shredded metal. The girl has to be one of the youngest here, sitting out here all alone.

"Hello," the redhead says quietly, throat sore from talking more than she has in years. The young girl jumps, whipping her blonde hair around to see the redhead sit down beside her.

"Hi," the girl replies, just as quietly.

Aggie softens her delicate features, and smiles kindly, "my name's Myles," bringing up her right hand up for the girl to shake.

"Charlotte," says the young girl, still gripping the redheads hand.

Taking the hint, Aggie keeps holding Charlottes hand. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"

"I don't really know anyone here," Charlotte answers quietly, shrugging shyly.

"Wanna walk around with me?" Aggie offers after a moment, the young blonde nods eagerly with a small smile. Aggie stands up and uses the hand still clutched in Charlottes to help the younger girl up. The two walk only a few metres, the blonde wanting to look at as much as possible.

"Y'know what I'm lookin' for?" Aggie asks suddenly.

"No, what?"

"A really big stick," the redhead says simply, causing Charlotte to burst out laughing.

"A big stick? What for?" The young girl enquires.

"A bow, they used them as weapons hundreds of years ago," Aggie explains, "I can use it to hunt for food," the redhead points up to the sky at a flock of birds flying. Charlotte is so transfixed by the flying creatures she drops Aggie's hand, "I'm not too excited to eat 200 year old 'non-perishables'."

The sentiment brings Charlottes attention back from the birds, screwing up her face in disgust, "what kind of stick?"

Shrugging one shoulder lazily, "a nice heavy, thick one. About this big," the redhead holds her hand almost five feet from the ground, "and about this thick," holding her thumb and pointer finger two inches apart.

It took a few minutes of wandering around for the two girls to come across a straight branch, with no knots, perfect for a bow, and even less time to find a slightly smaller one, perfect for Charlotte.

"I'll go start carving them," Aggie tells the blonde.

"What do I do now?" The young girl asks, looking a little lost.

"You can come sit with me and I'll teach you," the redhead answers, "or you can go find some smaller sticks?"

"Smaller sticks?" The blonde laughs.

"Yeah," Aggie chuckles, "for arrows. Or you could keep discovering the Earth, whatever you'd like."

Charlotte beams, and sets her sights on finding smaller sticks. Aggie walks back to the dropship, and eyes the shredded metal. Blonde hair causes her to look up for a minute, Clarke is standing by the ramp looking at something splayed out on the metal door.

Picking up a few decent sized jagged pieces, she sits on the ground a couple metres away and works on fastening the makeshift blades to chunks of branches with strips of her dark green tank top. Sacrificing the bottom of her tank top leaves a strip of pale white skin now exposed, just under her bellybutton. The redhead doesn't want to use the few knives she brought down here just yet. With three knives made, she tucks two into the waistband of her pants, and starts carving the branch carefully.

Movement draws her attention away from her project again and she glances up to see Wells walking down from the ramp of the dropship. Raising an eyebrow, she watches his feet hit the ground before flicking her eyes up to his. As soon as brown meets hazel, he glares at her, sending her other eyebrow up in shock. Scoffing, the young man turns on his heel and makes his way around the ramp to Clarke.

Unamused by his antics, Aggie scans the area for Jasper and Monty, finding them not too far away from the two privileged teens. Jasper taps his hand on Monty's chest, eyes locked on Clarke and Aggie rolls her eyes with a smile. Sensing the chancellors son might be one delinquent away from a superiority complex, the redhead tucks the branches under a nook created by a tree root. Sticking her knife in her pants, she gets to her feet.

Slowly making her way over to Monty, she's seconds from reaching him, eyes meeting, when Jasper starts talking.

"Ah, cool, a map," Jasper says to Clarke with a goofy, lopsided grin. Wells already looks irritated, "they got a bar in this town? I'll buy you a beer."

"You mind," Wells retorts bitterly, arms up and pushing the lanky brown haired boy only a few metres before Aggie intercepts.

"HEY!" The red haired girl screeches, forcefully shoving Wells shoulder to get him to let go of her friend. Wells lets go of Jasper and Monty tugs him away gently, trying to to pry Aggie from the dark skinned boys searing gaze. Wells lifts a hand and aggressively shoves the pale girls hand away.

"Woah, hey, hey, hey, hands off. They're with us," Murphy announces loudly, approaching with a group of boys. Aggie spies Atom amongst them, staring at Wells with a stern look on his face, and Murphy looks ready to kill.

It's a strange look on his face. Jonathan Murphy had been through more than most, and Aggie can't help still seeing the little boy she sat with for hours after his father was floated. John took it hard, and took his mother's downward spiral into the bottle even harder. For a long while after, everything the red haired girl got her hands on, John Murphy got first dibs on.

"Relax," Wells tries to placate, arms raised to show he meant no harm. Clarke looks less then impressed as Murphy comes to stand beside Aggie, gently pulling her away and towards her two friends, "we're just trying to figure out where we are."

"We're on the ground," an deep, authoritative voice booms immediately, Wells turns to face the Blake's. "That not good enough for you?"

Wells is silent for a beat, clearly trying to think his words through, "we need to find Mount Weather." Wells takes a few steps towards the older Blake. Clarke, flustered, tries to catch up with him. "You heard my fathers message. That has to be our first priority."

Both the Blake siblings aren't too happy with that, bad move.

"Screw your father," Octavia Blake boldly states, "what, you think you're in charge here, you and your little princess?" The condescending tone has Aggie snorting and Jasper chuckling, Monty slapping the both of them softly on the chest in warning.

"Do you think we care who's in charge?" Clarke speaks up, trying to reason with the crowd. "We need to get to Mount Weather not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we'll get and the harder this'll be." The Blake siblings aren't impressed, "how long do you think we'll last without those supplies? We're looking at a 20-mile trek, okay? So, if we want to get there before dark, we need to leave now."

"I got a better idea," Bellamy offers, sarcastically, "you two go, find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change."

A chorus of 'yeah's echo from the crowd gathered around them, the vast majority of teens here coming from struggling homes, and not sitting in comfort high up in the hierarchy. Aggie, Monty and Jasper look at each other, the latter two not too bothered about going or not, whereas Aggie's eyebrows clearly show she doesn't want to go anywhere.

"You're not listening," Wells claims, "we all need to go."

Murphy comes up behind wells and shoves him, saying, "look at this, everybody... the chancellor of Earth."

Laughs ripple through the crowd as Murphy taunts the teen.

"Think that's funny?" Wells responds, sarcastically.

Murphy lashes out, reaching forward and grabbing the dark skinned boys jacket before hooking his foot under his leg, causing Wells to go crashing to the ground, groaning in pain.

"Wells," Clarke calls out, concerned, only to be held back by a member of Murphy's group.

People in the crowd start calling out in encouragement for Murphy.

"No, but that was," Murphy asserts, cocky. Wells jumps back to his feet, "all right," says Murphy, obviously ready for a fight. Aggie tries to step forward to back up Murphy, when Monty and Jasper both shoot out an arm in front of her to stop her and squish the redhead between them.

Wells is clearly injured, the fall having done something to his leg as he limps pitifully, throwing his hands up in an amateur fighting stance. Teens in the crowd start chanting fight, fight as Murphy taunts the distressed teen, faking advances to spook him with an arrogant smile.

Spacewalker jumps down from the dropship and lands between the two boys, stopping the fight. A hush falls upon the crowd for a moment, as Murphy looks up, puzzled, to where the shaggy-haired teen had jumped from. The glimpse Aggie gets of the look on his face makes her let out a short laugh, Monty and Jaspers hands flying up to cover her mouth.

"Kids got one leg," Spacewalker states, staring down Murphy, "how about you wait 'til it's a fair fight?"

Aggie can't see Murphy's face anymore, but she can feel the tension in the air as the younger Blake sibling breaks the silence that's fallen over them.

"Hey Spacewalker," Octavia calls, "rescue me next."

The flirtatious words are barely out of her mouth before her brother walks up to them and pulls his sister away. The crowd dissipates, Monty looks at his two friends.

"Well, that was interesting."

Aggie snorts in response, and then Jasper is excitedly pulling her towards two other people.

"Myles, this is Harper and Pascal. Guys, this is Myles," Jasper introduces and Aggie, or Myles, as the redhead goes by, smiles a bright smile and shakes both their hands.

"She's our 'sister from another mister,'" the boys exclaim together, causing the pale girl to blush lightly.

"Oh, we've heard so, so much about you," Harper gushes, smiling wide. Myles quirks a red eyebrow at her best friends, and they chuckle.

"All good things," Monty assures, "promise."

The conversation is smooth, and they all try to involve the redhead, but she can't help feeling a little lost. Myles doesn't have to hold out for long, however, as a hand clasps down heavily on both her and Jaspers shoulders, turning them around and dragging them away from their little group.

"There," Spacewalker huffs to Clarke and Wells, "two more, can we go now?"

"One more," Myles corrects, ducking out under the shaggy haired boys arm, "I'm staying."

"Come on, Myles! An adventure!" Jasper declares excitedly.

When all the goggle-wearing boy gets in response is a delicate eyebrow raise, Monty chimes in while patting her shoulder, "don't worry, I'll go with them."

"That makes four," Spacewalker states, looking at Clarke, "we good?"

"Sounds like a party," Octavia announces, walking towards them with a smile, "make it five."

Bellamy is hot on her heels, "Hey, what the hell are you doing?" He demands, coming to stand beside her, putting a hand on her arm.

"Going for a walk," the younger sibling says calmly.

Clarke catches a glimpse of Spacewalkers wristband, "Hey, were you trying to take this off?"

"Yeah," he answers, "so?"

"So," Clarke starts, "this wristband transmits your vital signs to the Ark." Myles sees Bellamy listen intently and the cogs start turning in her brain, "take it off, and your family will think you're dead."

Spacewalker looks as if he's about to give a snarky reply, but he stops himself. Looking back down to his wristband, then back up at Clarke, he nods, shaggy hair bouncing.

"Okay," Clarke says satisfied, "now let's go."

They turn to leave but Myles slings her arms around her two best friends, stopping them for a moment.

"You be careful adventuring out there, yeah?" The redhead implores, not even looking at Jasper before adding, with a point of her finger, "lookin' at you, JJ."

Jasper reaches his hand up to mess up her braided red hair, with a goofy smile, and an always. Monty laughs at the less than amused look on her face and pulls her in for a hug.

"You be careful, too, Aggie," Monty says seriously, to which she snorts dramatically.

Monty gives the side of her head a light kiss and then he's pulling away. Jasper gives a quick kiss to the side of her head as well, and then they're both rushing off to catch up with the princess and the Spacewalker. Myles turns her head and watches as Bellamy gives in, saying something quietly and tilting his head in the direction the group is heading in. Octavia beams, and leans up to kiss her brother on the cheek before she, too, is running to catch up.

Bellamy stands there a moment, so Myles goes and stands beside him as he watches his sister go. Brown eyes glance at her through the corners of his eyes.

"Figured you would've went with your friends," Bellamy states, Myles turns her head to him and raises a red eyebrow. The older Blake sibling meets her hazel eyes and, with a tilt of his head, continues, "You seem close."

"We were," was the only response he got.

"'Were'?" he pressed, clearly unsatisfied with how quiet she is.

"Been a while since we've been a trio," the redhead explains simply.

"And it's more of a duo now?" They're both as stubborn as each other, she meets his eyes again and does a lazy shrug with one shoulder. "And you didn't want to go with them? Be a 'trio' again?"

"They're happy," she justifies, but it does little to clear up the Blake's confusion.

Realising it's the only answer he'll get, he turns back to face the wilderness. The redhead uses this as her opportunity, she pulls out one of her makeshift knives and holds it out to Bellamy. The Blake sibling glances between the weapon and her eyes.

"You make that?" He asks. The only response he gets is an eyebrow quirk, so he tries another approach, "is that metal from the dropship?" Myles nods her head yes. The red haired girl hasn't broken eye contact since she pulled the knife, she just stands there patiently, waiting for him to take it, "you think I need that?"

"That gun won't be much help when the real guard comes down," the girl says simply, it's Bellamy's turn to quirk an eyebrow.

"And you think a homemade knife would be better?" The mans retorts sarcastically, not bothering to address her claims.

"You can't stop them coming down," Myles responds, taking Bellamy off-guard. Scoffing lightly, he goes to turn around before her voice stops him, "but you can slow them down."

Turning back to the redhead, now thoroughly intrigued, he says, "oh yeah? And how would I do that?"

The red haired girl merely rolls her eyes, pulls her jacket sleeve up slightly and uses the knife to quickly pry the wristband off. The wristband falls to the floor as the older Blake sibling watches with morbid curiosity, spying the blood trickling from the holes the band had left in her arm. Aggie bends down and holds the wristband up, turning her body slightly towards Bellamy.

"Now the Ark thinks I'm dead," she explains lowly, "that maybe, it's not safe to follow us down."

"They're using the kids here as guinea pigs?" The man concludes, bitterly, "So, what? They can make their 'final journey to the ground'?"

Myles doesn't flinch from his furious words, "they've been shutting off the oxygen to barely used sections, lowering the oxygen in places that are 'expendable'," Myles lists, "colder temperatures, everyone's always sick. Oxygen deprivation."

Bellamy's heart stutters for a moment, "life support on the Ark is failing." The redhead only nods slowly in response, "how much time do we have? Before they have to come down?"

"Their plan is two months. One hundred gone means another month, at least," she states, "it'll take them a couple weeks, maybe, to figure out we're not actually dying."

Deep brown flickers between the redheads two hazel eyes, something not sitting quite right with him.

"Why are you helping me?" Bellamy asks, the sceptical look in his eyes tells Myles the determined young man won't let this go.

"I knew Rory," the red haired girl whispers, as if a secret. Dark brown eyebrows draw together in confusion.

"I know everyone who called her that, and their children. I don't know you," the man accused, words coming out harsh. Still, the pale girl doesn't flinch, instead maintaining eye contact.

"I'm a different kind of friend," Myles elaborates, causing Bellamy to scoff. "Besides," she breaks eye contact to stare pointedly at the spot where his gun is hidden under his shirt, "they'll kill you for that."

"What, you don't want to help me lead things around here?" The man enquires, "is that what I'm expected to believe?"

"You might be destined to be a king, Bellamy Blake," the redhead announces, "but I was born in rags, I'll die in rags."

Bellamy squints, "you don't have to be," he offers, smooth voice gliding through the air.

"No," Myles agrees, with a tilt of her head, "but all I'm destined to be is a lowly peasant girl."

When the Blake boy opens his mouth to speak again, she quickly catches him off guard by throwing the wristband toward him. As Bellamy's hands shoot out to catch it, Myles places the knife lazily in his pants pocket and starts walking away.

"Try not to cry too hard at my funeral," the redhead calls over her shoulder, at the amused Blake.

"I never did get your name," he calls back, Bellamy knows she can hear him, but she doesn't answer. Brown eyes glance back down to the wristband in hand, chuckling lightly, one word in mind.

Trouble.

Myles goes searching for Charlotte and it doesn't take long to find her. The blonde girl hadn't strayed far from the dropship, and excitedly showed her the pile of sticks she'd collected. She'd also collected some rocks she thought might make good tips for the arrows. They would work perfectly. Myles went to return to her bow, then she hesitated. They'd die of thirst long before they'd die of starvation, and with that, she was on a new mission.

Charlotte had found two other kids around her age and decided to go exploring with them, rather than stick around the dropship. Finding a decent chunk of metal to use for an axe was relatively easy, but it took a few minutes of fiddling to fasten it to a handle. Once it was ready, Myles went to make a fire. The red haired girl decided it might work better to make a couple fire pits, before long there were five fire pits ready to go.

Looking up at the sky, Myles remembered something. Rain. Eyebrows furrowed, she turned to stare at her recently constructed fire pit. Shit. Myles, turned to look at the wide expanse of trees, before sighing, and heading back into them, axe in hand.

It took less than half an hour to collect all the wood and a shit-tonne of long grass, and even less time to assemble the mini huts. Atom had found her when she was foraging the dropship for metal large enough to cover each fire pits, and helped her put it all together. It took an embarrassingly long time for them to get the hang of starting a fire with a stick and the all-mighty power of friction. After figuring it out, they team up to make a place for the water out of the dropship, and once content it'll hold, they go searching for the jugs that came down with them.

Having come up empty-handed, they decide to make their own. They chat idly as they chop wood, and fasten them with bent dropship metal, making one stupidly large bucket entirely out of fragments from the dropship to boil the water in. With all fire pits alight, and the sun showing it was a few hours after midday, the two new friends decided to go looking for water.

They find a little creek about 20 minutes down from the dropship, and on the way to it, Myles eats one of every berry and fruit they pass, just to see if she'll die. Atom had freaked out at first, but he grew accustomed to the idea, whether it was her logic behind it or his grumbling stomach, she doesn't know, but the blue eyed teen joined in. Once the two had filled up their buckets with water, and their pockets with safe fruit, they returned to camp.

The sight at camp was different from when they had left. Strewn about randomly were wristbands from members of the hundred, a couple delinquents were sitting by some of the fires. Atom manned the water, boiling it, while Myles went back and forth a few times, making sure the delinquents had enough food and water to satiate them, knowing none of the prisoners were given rations this morning before being loaded onto the dropship.

After lugging her last load back up to camp, Myles plopped down with a heavy sigh beside Atom on one of the logs he, and a few other delinquents, had put around the fire pits while she was running around.

"Tired?" A wristbandless Murphy asked around a mouthful of berries, not even listening for a response, expecting nothing more than another heavy sigh. The handful of people sitting around the fire knew exactly who she was, those who had never met her for a drop-off were eagerly informed by Murphy and Atom of the redheads true identity.

Atom had been familiar with the redheads drive, having witnessed it firsthand when he was younger, but couldn't help the feeling of admiration he got looking at the exhausted criminal. Myles rolled her head back to look at the sky, lazily.

"We've probably got a few hours of sunlight left," the girl states, before looking back at the tree line in front of them, "I bet I could cut that down and make tents."

The redhead is already on her feet and marching her silent, purposeful footsteps towards the parachutes before anyone could respond. Shaking his black hair with a tired smile, Atom stands to follow her.

"I'll be with Robin Hood," Atom says to the people sitting with him, walking over to the tree he just watched the red haired girl start scaling. Leaning against the tree, the teen calls up something about taking a break. Myles isn't paying attention to his words, instead busying herself with making sure she doesn't fall, but once she's perched on a branch, she flips Atom the bird before crawling towards the parachute. Laughing, the younger teen just watches her fumble with the fabric, trying to get it free from the trees clutches with a shake of his head.

Bellamy Blake makes his way back to the dropship, he'd been by not too long ago and had seen the fire pits surrounding the camp and the container slowly being filled with water. Spying three of his followers sitting around the main campfire directly in front of the dropship, he saunters over. Murphy looks up as he approaches, and nods.

"What's that?" That man questions, tipping his head to Murphy's hands.

"Food. Robin Hood brought us a shit-tonne more," the younger brown haired boy answers, gesturing towards the crates filled with them near the ramp. Bellamy follows the movement to the dropship, before turning back to the teen.

"'Robin Hood'?" The tall man queries, more out of shock than curiosity.

"Yeah," a dark skinned teen wearing a black beanie, Nathan Miller, answers. "'The Ghost'. 'Vent Girl'? The Arks very own superhero?"

Bellamy shifts his feet in surprise, "she's here?"

"You don't know who 'The Ghost' is?" Murphy asks, brunette eyebrows sky high as disbelief radiates off him.

"I never met her, my mother handled all the business with her," the tanned skinned man replied.

A girl with long brown hair across from Murphy points behind him, "she's Little Red, over there. Up in that tree."

Bellamy follows her gaze, freezing when deep brown eyes lock onto the mysterious red haired girl who gave him his makeshift knife earlier in the day. Turning and walking away from the fire pit, he makes a beeline for the tree the redhead is currently in. Nodding at Atom in greeting, the Blake boy comes to a stop beside him.

"And why exactly are you up there, Ghost?" He calls up at the girl. Myles doesn't acknowledge the man, instead he gets a reply from the wristbandless delinquent to his left.

"She wants to make tents before it gets dark," Atom responds, with an amused smile.

"Where are you gonna set up the tents?" Bellamy asks the redhead.

"Where ever you want, your majesty," the red haired girl quips, "Atom, yank please."

The blue eyed boy pushes himself off the tree and pulls carefully down on the thick fabric that has drooped down within reach. The parachute falls to the ground easily, and Myles' boots hit the ground immediately after. Atom opens his mouth to say something witty when his name is called, so instead he smiles politely at Myles and nods at Bellamy before leaving.

Sighing, Myles squats down to spread out the material to see what she's working with.

"Different kind of friend, huh?" Bellamy lightheartedly prods, hazel eyes glance up at his for a split second with a lazy shrug of her shoulder, before she refocuses her attention on the material. Red eyebrows furrow and one single crease forms on her forehead as she thinks.

"How many tents do you think you can make?" The Blake sibling asks, Myles thinks a beat more before answering.

"Maybe thirty?" The girls responds, unsure. Gesturing to the parachute, the redhead finishes, "we could use the rest for hammocks?"

"Sounds good," the man concurs.

Myles nods to herself for a moment before rising to her feet to get to work, when Bellamy's hand on her arm stops her. Hazel meets deep brown.

"Make a nice, big one for me," the man implores with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a wide, toothy smile.

"Of course, your highness," Myles jokes lightly.

The sun had already set when the drained red haired teen finished. Having made enough tents for 29 people, even more if they share, the girl was ready to sit down. She fashioned tables and cots from wood and dropship metal, Myles put at least one of each in the tents. On the cots, the redhead had placed the thin cushioning she'd pulled off the seats in the dropship. It wasn't much, but it'll do. In Bellamy's tent, she broke off two seats entirely, cushioning intact, and used them to balance out the empty space.

Bellamy is sitting by the main fire, and his eyes snap to her skinny frame as soon as she enters his line of sight.

"All done?" He asks the redhead once she's in earshot, eyes dropping down to the strip of pale, exposed skin of her stomach as light from the fire dances and flickers over her skin. With a worn out sigh, she only nods.

Myles had kept him updated with the status of each tent she'd completed, so he could work out who got to have one. After the girl had assembled the tents, she had set up hammocks inside the dropship before running out of steam. Leaving a few more scraps of parachute in the lower level to make more hammocks out of later, she's ready to call it a day.

It's completely dark when the next set of theatrics start. Almost every single one of the delinquents that didn't go to Mount Weather are surrounding the main fire pit, directly in front of the dropship, and cheering with each new wristband that is removed. Myles doesn't participate, opting to sit completely out of the way and finishing her almost complete bow with Charlotte, watching as everyone celebrates. It doesn't take long for Wells to come investigate the commotion.

Wells limps his way to the crowd, and pushes his way through. His body freezes when he sees Murphy and Mbege removing a girls wristband, her face contorting in pain. The wristband falls from her wrist, and Murphy holds it up for the crowd to see, another round of cheers erupt at the sight. Murphy throws the useless metal into the fire as Bellamy's authoritative voice booms over the crowd.

"Who's next?"

"What the hell are you doing?" Wells demands, horrified.

"We're liberating ourselves," the man replies, "what does it look like?"

"It looks like you're trying to get us all killed," Wells declares, Bellamy rolls his eyes and licks his lips, unamused. "The communication system is dead. These wristbands are all we got. Take them off and the Ark will think we're dying, that it's not safe for them to follow."

"That's the point, Chancellor," Bellamy quips, not missing a beat. "We can take care of ourselves, can't we?" The Blake brother asks loudly, arms outstretched as he gestures to what's around them. The crowd doesn't disappoint, eagerly shouting their agreements with the tan skinned man.

"You think this is a game?" Wells exclaims and Bellamy patiently waits for him to finish his rant, "those aren't just our friends and our parents up there. They're our farmers, our doctors, our engineers. I don't care what he tells you. We won't survive here on our own... and besides, if it really is safe, how could you not want the rest of our people to come down?"

"My people already are down," Bellamy explains, "those people," lifting his hand up to point at the sky, "locked my people up. Those people killed my mother for the crime of having a second child."

Myles can't see his face, but if the silence and tension of the crowd is anything to go by, it mustn't be very kind look. Charlotte inches closer to the redhead, worried about where this is going.

"Your father did that," the Blake sibling says so lowly, if it wasn't for the unbridled anger and resentment behind it the redhead wouldn't have heard it at all.

"My father didn't write the laws," the dark skinned teen tries to reason.

"No. He enforced them, but not anymore, not here," Bellamy's voice is still dark, but there's a twinge of hope there. "Here," he says firmly, "there are no laws."

Myles heart stutters and she whips her head to look at the young blonde at her side, the chorus of agreements the crowd echoes unsettling her greatly.

"Here, we do whatever the hell we want whenever the hell we want," Bellamy asserts, "Now, you don't have to like it, Wells. You can even try to stop it or change it, kill me." Myles' chest constricts painfully as the reality of Bellamy's monologue hits her. Wells could kill Bellamy and there be no repercussions at all. Wrapping an arm around the young girl, Myles watches intently, silently begging for Bellamy to be smart.

"You know why?" The tall man continues, "whatever the hell we want."

Murphy starts chanting those five words, the crowd joining in with him. Wells and Bellamy are toe to toe, staring each other down as the crowd continues to chant Bellamy's mantra.

Suddenly, a loud clap of thunder interrupts the ego battle, everyone craning their heads back to look at the sky. Myles sets her bow aside and slips from the blonde girl, standing up to peer up at the sky in confusion. Water starts pouring down from the night sky onto Bellamy and the delinquents. Amazed shouts and surprised shrieks ripple through the crowd at the realisation that this is rain. Real rain.

A melodic laugh bubbles out of Myles, and she can feel eyes on her as she lifts her hands up to feel the rain. Spinning around in circles twice, she giggles again, ear to ear smile on her face. Leaning her head even further back, the redhead closes her eyes and opens her mouth, cool droplets of rain hitting her tongue and drenching her body.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Opening her eyes and staring into deep brown ones, Myles can't stop smiling. Bellamy doesn't get an eyebrow twitch, a shrug or a word in response, but another giggle. The redhead spins around once more, then brings her hazel eyes back to his, and is greeted by a knee-weakening smile. "Come on," the man urges, jutting his head to the dropship, the redhead can see Charlotte standing in the doorway, "let's get you inside before you get sick."

Grin never once fading from her face, Myles shakes her head and takes a few steps back.

"Whatever the hell I want, right, Bellamy Blake?" Something about the way she says his name makes his heart clench addictively.

"Whatever the hell you want," he concedes, smiling lightly, hesitating for a moment before he's turns around and jogs to the dropship.

"She isn't coming in?" Atom asks, worried. The pair look out at the redhead alone in the rain and watch as she sits down under a tree, stunning smile still stuck in place.

It's a couple hours after the rain had stopped, and Myles couldn't sleep. The redhead had managed to doze lightly for a short while, before her young blonde roommate had a horrible nightmare. Lying awake with the small girl curled in her side, now resting peacefully, Myles thinks about the story Charlotte had shared with her. The story she had had a nightmare about. Arm tightening lightly around the poor young girl who had been through far too much pain for her 12 years of life, she's brought out of her thoughts by the sounds of footsteps and hushed words.

Slipping out from around the young blonde, Myles sets her jacket over the sleeping girl before exiting the tent. The redhead pays no mind that her scars are on full display, rather confident everyone else's peering eyes are asleep as she slips into the trees to follow loud footfalls. Hazel eyes try and comprehend the scene that plays out in front of her. Bellamy has his gun pointed at Wells, and they're talking. Myles can't hear what's being said, so she slinks forward a little bit and crouches down, taking extra care to not make a sound.

"I don't want to shoot you, Wells," Bellamy says, his hair isn't slicked back anymore, Whatever was his his hair having been washed out by the rain. His dark brown curls bounce as he bobs his head, "hell, I like you – but I do need them," he points his gun to the sky quickly, "to think that you're dead."

"Why?" Wells asks dryly, "why are you doin' this, for real, not some crap about getting to do what you want to do?"

"I have my reasons," the Blake boy replies, evasively, "I also have the gun," it takes all her willpower not to snort at that. You have to give it to him, the man sure is dramatic, "so, I ask the questions, and the question is, why aren't you helping me? Your dad banished you, Wells, and yet here you are, still doing his bidding, following the rules. Aren't you tired of always doing what's expected of you? Stand up to him. Take off that wristband, and you'll be amazed at how good it feels."

"No," the teen says simply, "never. Not gonna happen. Is that clear enough for you?"

Bellamy scoffs, "Yeah. It is. I'm sorry it had be this way."

Myles can see what's about to happen from where she's hiding. Murphy and Mbege slink up behind the dark skinned teen, as Bellamy puts his gun back into the waistband of his pants. Murphy makes it into Wells' eye line, and the redhead can't help but pity the distressed boy. Wells tries to run, but his injured leg slows him down and two more of Bellamy's henchmen come out from the dark tree line, and hold him back.

Wells struggling yells for the boys to get off of him prove to be a bit much for the red haired girl. So, satisfied knowing that Bellamy and his goons won't kill the injured teen, and that they're just after his wristband, Myles leaves. Slowly and quietly making her way back to the tent she shares with Charlotte, she slips inside and thinks about everything that's transpired in the last twenty-four hours.

Myles doesn't sleep, giving up a few hours after she hears the boys return and retire to their makeshift beds. Stealing her jacket back from the young, sleeping blonde, she makes herself busy finishing the bows and manufacturing arrows. The red haired girl had spent well over two hours trying to find enough appropriately sized feathers in the dead of night to aid the arrows flight. She hadn't enjoyed the fiddling that came with adhering the components together tight enough to shoot, but she loved bashing the small rocks to get perfect arrowheads.

The things she's most upset about, undoubtedly, are the quivers. Myles had had the thought to make them after she'd started crafting the arrows, and had gone and snuck one of the scraps of parachute left over for more hammocks. The material is held together by knots and has sticks for some support, making the two quivers a truly unattractive sight.

By the time the sun had started to rise and delinquents started to slowly emerge from their sleeping spots, she'd fashioned almost two dozen arrows. Deciding it might be best to go check the water level and find food before more of the delinquents awoke, the redhead packed up her array of materials and deposits them inside the tent quietly. Bow in hand and quiver on her back, she sets off for some practice.

It took her a bit longer than she'd ever admit to actually hit one of her targets. Squirrels are fast, jittery assholes, and she only manages to get two before giving up on them and moving on. The red haired girl meanders quite far from the camp when she sees it. A bright blaze of orange.

A Fox.

Dropping down to a crouch, Myles takes a deep breath, before pulling an arrow out and slowly stepping forward. Notching her arrow and pulling the shoelace string slowly, trying not to alert the animal, hazel eyes take aim. The slight whoosh sound the arrow makes flying through the early morning air is extremely calming.

The arrow sinks into the foxes shoulder, but doesn't knock him down. Clearly injured and struggling, the animal turns in the redheads direction and makes a strange high pitched noise that's a blend of snorting and squawking. Large orange and black ears pulled back, head held low and mouth open, the sides of the foxes face twitch up with the threatening noises, bearing his teeth.

The red haired girl is frozen for a minute, unsure of how this will play out. Chest constricting remorsefully with every angry noise the poor animal makes, knowing its in pain and scared. Very, very slowly, her pale hand reaches up for one of her few arrows left. As her fingers brush the feathered end of an arrow, the fox quickly jumps forward.

In a flurry of panic, Myles rapidly notches the arrow and pulls, letting go of the string instantly. The fox falls in front of her crouched form, arrow in neck. The redheaded girl can only stare in shock at the dying creature, as the poor thing takes a few more breaths before stilling, eyes glazing over.

After making sure the animal is dead, Myles hoists it up and awkwardly carries it back to camp. The red haired girl spends most of her trek back trying to remember exactly how shes supposed to get edible meat from the animals.

A few minutes from the dropship she runs into Atom and two others, who introduce themselves as Jones and Diggs. The teens were thrilled to see the dead animals and immediately started to help her carry them back to camp. Diggs started to look a bit squeamish as the other three talked about the best way to skin and gut the animals, so, Atom tasked him with finding a sheet of metal that wasn't wide, but was long enough to hook through the hut over the fire.

With one man down, the two boys were eager to get their hands dirty and help, knowing that the sooner it's done, the sooner they'll eat. The smell of blood was overpowering, but it wasn't long before the mouth-watering aroma of smoky, cooked meat wafts through the air, rousing the rest of the sleeping delinquents.

Bellamy Blake is awoken by a truly heavenly smell that makes his stomach growl demandingly. Sitting up to rest on his elbows, messy black curls bounce as he lifts his head to sniff the air. Suddenly, the dirty blonde beside him jolts.

"Is that food?" She asks half asleep, scrambling to get dressed.

"I don't know," the Blake sibling answers honestly, reaching over the cot for his clothes.

The girl leaves his tent first, but Bellamy isn't too far behind her. Following his nose to the large crowd of delinquents. Brown eyes lock with Jones', by the fire, and the teen stands.

"Hey, Ghost went and got some food," Jones calls out happily, reaching for one of the washed big leaves to the side of the fire pit. Picking up two strips of meat and plopping them on the leaf, "there's fruit and shit over there, washed and everything."

The teen hands Bellamy the food and gestures over to the dropship. Myles sits with a group of other delinquents on the ramp, some are carving bits of wood to make plates and bowls, two teens are making cutlery out of dropship metal and Myles is working with a beautiful teen with long blonde hair to make, what he can only assume, is a pot. The group is chatting happily, and the redhead and her blonde friend are completely engrossed in conversation.

The Blake sibling looks around for a certain teen, spying him sitting by another campfire, alone.

"Jones," the boy in question turns, "he eaten?"

The dark skinned boy looks to where Bellamy tilted his head, and sees Wells Jaha sitting on his own, pinched expression on his face.

"Not from here," Jones answers, arm lifting slightly to gesture to the fire pit with meat.

"Give me another two," Bellamy orders, picking up another leaf.

"Sure thing, boss," with two plant-plates in one hand, he makes his way over to the redhead, making a show of trying to catch her eyes.

"You mind if I take one of these?" Bellamy asks when hazel meets brown, pointing to one of the wooden bowls on the ramp.

"Knock yourself out," the verbal reply doesn't come from the redhead, but her smiling blonde friend, Harper, but Bellamy still sees Myles shrug and nod an affirmative.

Picking up a bowl, he turns to the fruit crate with a thanks tossed over his shoulder. After shovelling the fruit into the bowl, Bellamy leaves, heading straight for Wells.

"Eat," the man orders the teen, dumping one of the leaves and the bowl on his bent knees.

The boy doesn't respond straight away, merely fixing his searing gaze on the tall Blake brother as he turns to leave.

"This an apology?" The teen calls after Bellamy retreating figure.

"No," he replies, cockily, "it's food."