A/N: Okay, I know the summary paints Octavia out to be the bad guy, but to quote Clarke from 5x01 "Eden": "There are no good guys."

Prompt by pumped-for-whump on Tumblr: "Whumpee gets to spend the night chained up outside for disobeying Whumper."

"You know, maybe if you hadn't left, Lincoln would still be alive," Bellamy said.

He was chained up in the cave, and Octavia sat across a fire from him, guarding him. This was after she'd beaten him bloody and nearly senseless. Bellamy had wanted her to hurt him, had deserved it, had wanted that pain. But he wasn't the only one at fault, was he?

He hadn't killed Lincoln, but he was dead because of him.

Octavia's glare turned his blood cold, and it was as if she held her sword to his throat.

"Look, I know it wasn't just me. Wasn't just Pike," he went on. Bellamy knew this would provoke her, but he couldn't stay quiet. He just couldn't. "You left him."

"At least I didn't slaughter three-hundred of his people!" Octavia snarled. "Or had you forgotten that? Genocide's just part of your regular to-do list, isn't it? Mount Weather, the grounder army. You're worse than Pike, so don't you dare try to turn this on me."

"And why not?" Bellamy asked. "Why can't it be both of our faults?"

Octavia stood and reached for her sword. Before Bellamy could barely gasp from her quick motions, she was across the fire and the blade really was held to his throat.

"Because it's not. You're the grounder-hater all of a sudden, bi— Bellamy. I loved him." Tears were in her eyes, but a hard hatred and fiery anger held them back.

"I was trying to protect us!" he argued.

"Yeah, well load of good that did us. Lincoln's dead, Pike's chancellor, and the grounders think we're all their enemies, and they're right to. You messed up. You did the wrong thing. Not me. Not this time. I won't be the girl under the floor, the girl who got arrested for existing. And I'm not just a grounder either. I'm Octavia Blake, Indra's second, and your former sister."

"Former?" Bellamy asked, throat filled with emotion, mouth feeling like it was stuffed with cotton.

"If you think we can be family after this then you're a fool."

"I didn't—"

"Shut up."

"Okay. O, it is on me," he said.

"I told you to shut up!"

"Octavia, I'm sorry."

She was quivering now, and the sword pressed into his throat, drawing blood. But then she pulled it away. Bellamy let out a relieved sigh, but the tension hadn't yet relaxed from his body. Octavia then struck him across the face, and he let out a cry, falling to the side. His already sore face throbbed mercilessly, and he couldn't tell if his eyes were watering or if they were tears.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"Do you want to go spend the night outside, Bell? I can leave you out there, all alone, when the grounders know we're the enemy. I could even set a torch, have them come for you. You'd deserve it."

"I would," he agreed, resigned, quiet. "But you won't do it."

"Try me," she growled. "Shut up, or you're getting chained up outside like a dog."

"Octavia, I'm sorry I hurt you."

She screamed at him, ripped his chains from the wall with a fierce tug, and then was marching him outside, standing behind him, sword to his neck. She shoved him on the ground, kicked him a few times, which drew his breath from him in sudden wheezes, and then she was chaining him to a tree a few feet from the cave entrance.

"There," she said as he got his bearings and started to sit up. The manacles connected to the chains tugged on his bloody and raw wrists. She spat in his direction. "If this is what you wanted, you got it. I'm not your sister anymore, Bell. I'm not your responsibility, and you sure as hell aren't mine." She started walking away, footsteps heavy and angry, hurt. "Enjoy. Oh, and" — she turned back when she got to the cave entrance — "it'll rain later. Maybe you can choke on the rain and save me the trouble of killing you myself, murderer."

Bellamy looked on, tears in his eyes, but he gave a barely perceptible nod.

This was what he deserved.

It wasn't his time for redemption yet. It was his time for suffering. But he wished he could suffer alongside Octavia. Feeling one with his sister was all he'd known, and they were both hurt — albeit in very different ways — but why couldn't they hurt together? Why couldn't they be brother and sister for just a little longer?

He'd done wrong. A lot of wrong. Bellamy knew that now. And as they sky seemed to crack open and rain began to fall, pattering against his bloodied skin in cold droplets, he realized maybe there wasn't a way to become right. Good was an elusive concept to him, had fled with Clarke.

Octavia's fire in the cave dimmed. The rain fell. Bellamy hurt for Octavia.