Zeus ex: I'm glad you like it. Wish I knew of other fics like this for The 100, but if those existed I might not be writing this now.

Williams1996: Thanks for all the reviews. Maybe some of the decisions were stupid, but it's my story, and I write it how I want to.

Shizu Uchiha: Thanks, but no MaynardxClarke, sorry.

SilentMayhem: One thing I can assure you is that Maynard is nobody's lackey. He won't become so either, though he will help others and work with them.

Scurra71900: I haven't really planned out the future with Lincoln and Maynard, but I do think that there will be some conflict there, at least early on. Maynard did purposefully harm Octavia, and it doesn't seem realistic for Lincoln to let that act go unpunished. As always though, Maynard won't take said punishment lying down.

Lirg123: Not sure what "OC tagalongs" is referring to. Are you saying that Maynard is just a guy following along with the story? Also, I'm not sure what "star enterprises" is.

Guest: Bellamy isn't bossing Maynard around. Maynard is willing to help people when they need it, though only when it suits him, and he didn't fight Bellamy because that would only be counterproductive. If you've ever tried to logically debate someone fighting from an emotional base, you'll know it doesn't work. People in an emotional state don't understand logic. Also, I don't think Bellamy is that bad of a character, though I haven't seen anything beyond season 2, so he could get worse.

123: Thanks man, but I'm not sure about posting more often, as I do have a lot on my plate right now. Hopefully the quality continues.

Finshadow212th: I'll admit that I had to look up Sergeant Hunter. I haven't watched any Clone Wars stuff, only seen the main movies, excluding Episode 9 because the new trilogy was basically a giant dumpster fire with no good characters. After looking him up I can see the resemblance. I can't really say anything about his personality resembling Hunter's unfortunately.

Guest: I'm glad you like the story, but, as I said to the other guest, Clarke and Bellamy don't walk all over him. He helps them when he sees fit and faces off against them when necessary.

PegasiJake: That makes more sense, but I promise the weirdness between Maynard and Clarke will be resolved within the next few chapters.

Indra Senin: I'm sorry I'm such a letdown to you.
PS: It's you're and you, and you didn't capitalize at the start of your second sentence.

Sglenn3232: Thanks!

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed by the way. It's great motivation to continue, knowing there are people who want to read my writing. Even the more mean-spirited ones are great. So keep it up!

The story continues with the first fully original chapter

I sat on my cot in my own tent for the first time in days. I'd spent the night locked upstairs in the dropship. It had been a quiet night, as Lincoln hadn't said anything at all to me. He had given me enough hateful glares to last ten thousand years though.

Upon being released I had found that my bag of stuff was displaced. Somebody had either stolen it or moved it, so I would have to search the camp for it. Unfortunately, that would involve speaking to people, and I wasn't really on speaking terms with most people in camp right now.

My head fell into my hands and I sighed deeply. The past twenty-four hours had been beyond stressful. All the shit with Bellamy was giving me a migraine. I just hoped that he would see my perspective eventually and our communication would return to normal. Even my communication with Bellamy's lackeys had been frosty. When Miller released me, he hadn't said a word. He hadn't told me anything regarding Bellamy's thoughts.

It was frustrating, but I had to deal with it. This was the path I chose. Whether it was the right choice or not, I couldn't say, but it was what I had chosen regardless.

Most of all though, I wished Octavia not to be angry with me. She had every right to be. Despite my good intentions I had intentionally endangered her life. Anger it seemed was a common theme running around camp. I was also one hundred percent sure that the events upstairs had been explained to everyone. Teenagers spread rumors like wildfire after all. Plus, people were giving me strange looks when I had been released this morning.

And then there was Clarke to contend with. She would surely be livid whenever we had our inevitable talk. I thought about seeking her out to end the bad blood between us preemptively. Though, she might not be ready to talk to me right now considering Finn's unstable state.

All things considered, my best path to working through my issues with people would be to wait for them, as much as I would hate waiting.

I scratched my still bare chest idly. I still didn't have a shirt. Apparently, it and my sweater had been lost somewhere along the line. Seeing as it was getting colder by the day, this would be a problem. Thankfully, contact with the Ark had been established, so I be able to request that shirts be sent down.

I sighed again rubbing my hand over my stubbled face. My goatee had returned it seemed. Then I remembered the earrings shoved through my earlobes. In all the drama of being on irradiated Earth, I had forgotten them completely. It was time for them to come out.

I felt behind my earlobe, looking for a screw or something that would allow me to remove the thin gold circle. Finding a tiny washer-like object I began to unscrew my earring. It came off surprisingly easily. I removed it and dropped it on the ground, not wanting to ever see the piece of jewelry again. As I worked the second earring off, I heard a soft voice at my door.

"Could I come in?" A female voice asked.

"Sure," I returned carelessly.

I expected the woman to be Clarke, coming to discuss my actions last night. To my surprise however, it was Octavia who entered my tent. I started momentarily, unsure of what to say. Instead of speaking I elected to finish removing my earring.

"Uh," Octavia started apparently equally unsure. "I brought you this." She held out my canvas bag with an extended arm. "And this," She shrugged her shoulder showing me my crossbow.

I wiggled the earring back and forth before finally getting it off. I dropped it to the ground satisfied.

"Thanks," I said gratefully.

I stood to take my bag, which Octavia happily offloaded onto me. Then I took my crossbow from her and rested it on the desk. I turned back to Octavia with a small smile on my face, but that smile quickly faded as I remembered what had happened last night.

"Look about last night," I started.

"Don't," Octavia interrupted me. "Don't do that to yourself."

She paused for a moment collecting herself and her thoughts. I remained totally silent, waiting in quiet anticipation of what was to come.

"How did you know Lincoln would save me?" She asked.

"What reason did ya have to lie?" I returned. "Bellamy didn't trust ya. All he can think about is how Lincoln kidnapped ya. Nothin' else matters to him."

Octavia looked at her shoes for a moment. She raised her head and looked at me slightly awed.

"You believed me?" She asked hopefully.

"Yeah," I answered honestly. "Like I said, I don't see why ya'd lie."

"You knew he'd save me," Octavia said quietly. "So, you forced him to reveal the antidote to save Finn."

"I'm sorry I had to use you like that," I said. "I-"

Octavia interrupted me, wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I was shocked, my hands hovering over her back. She broke the embrace holding onto my arms still.

"I would've done the same thing," Octavia said. "And you really believed me, when no one else did."

"Uh, yer welcome," I said slowly, still incredibly uncomfortable in this situation.

Octavia laughed quietly, "Bellamy would be pissed if he could see me now."

"Probly," I agreed. "I ain't exactly on good terms with him right now."

Octavia backed up and looked down to her shoes again, still smiling pleased.

"I'll be honest," I started again. "I wasn't expecting this conversation to go like this."

Octavia looked up and grinned happily.

"You're welcome," She quipped. "And don't tell Bellamy."

Octavia left my tent with a spring in her step. For my part, I was just thankful that she hadn't vowed her eternal hatred on me.

"Tell me why," Clarke ordered as I followed her into her own tent. "There has to be a good reason, right? I mean you wouldn't do that unless you had to."

"Nah I wouldn't," I said standing next to the exit. I didn't want to intrude too far into Clarke's personal space.

"Then explain it to me," Clarke said. "Because I really don't want to believe you actually were going to hurt Octavia."

"Finn was gonna die," I said. "I guessed that Lincoln could understand us, so I put on an act and hoped he'd buy it."

Clarke hummed in response. Her eyes closed briefly as she thought through the issue. She didn't exactly look peaceful though despite her meditative position.

It had been a day since my talk with Octavia. The rest of yesterday had been uneventful, but I couldn't help noticing that Bellamy was purposefully ignoring me. Knowing that Octavia didn't hate me for my actions the other night was liberating. Now the only regret I had was driving a wedge between Bellamy and me.

"How did you know he could understand us?" Clarke asked. "You wouldn't have taken a risk like that unless you were sure."

"I reasoned it out," I explained. "When someone doesn't understand ya, they act confused. They don't sit there stoic and silent. If Lincoln didn't know what we were talkin' about he woulda been scared or at least concerned. But he wasn't. He didn't give a shit."

Clarke nodded along with my logic, "Okay…Okay…" She obviously understood what I was saying, but I was slightly concerned about her next question. If it was a question of morality, then I didn't really have a good answer.

"So," Clarke said when I finished. "You knew Lincoln was protecting Octavia too?"

"Not exactly," I returned. "It was more of a hypothesis I had. I didn't see why she would lie about that."

"What if it was just wishful thinking?" Clarke countered. "Or she was just confused?"

"Yer lizard brain generally don't get confused like that," I disagreed. "If someone really is tryin' to keep ya safe, ya can tell if they're lyin'. Subconsciously at least."

"How's it a hypothesis if you were sure you were right?" Clarke asked.

"Room for error," I answered simply. "There was a chance I was wrong."

"You bet on your own reasoning then," Clarke concluded.

"Pretty much, yeah," I responded.

"Did you think about Octavia while you were doing this?" Clarke asked. "You took away her right to a choice."

"That's all I was thinkin' about," I answered. "I really didn't want to do that. But if she wasn't in danger, Lincoln wouldn't have said jack shit."

"That doesn't make it okay," Clarke returned.

"I know," I agreed. "I'm just tellin' ya why I did it. I'm aware it was wrong though."

Clarke cocked her head to the side slightly. She stared at me, her blue eyes meeting my greyish ones. I didn't know what she was thinking. Hopefully nothing that involved harming me.

"So, you knew it was wrong," Clarke spoke again after a minute of silence. "And you did it anyway?"

"Would you rather that I let Finn die?" I questioned.

"No," Clarke shot back hotly. She realized her mistake and took a moment to calm herself. "No," She said again. "Of course not. There might've been something else you could have done though."

"What?" I asked. "What could I have done?"

"I don't know," Clarke said defeatedly. "I'm just…I don't know."

I said nothing. This was mostly because I didn't know what to say though. It wasn't at all because I wanted to give Clarke some time to work through her thoughts.

"Well," Clarke finally said. "If there's one thing I know it's that we need you right now. We can't survive without you."

She approached, standing close to me. She tilted her head back to look me in the face.

"You're way too important to banish," Clarke said stone faced.

"Thanks," I returned somewhat sarcastically. "That makes me feel so appreciated."

Clarke snorted and lowered her head to laugh for a moment. I smiled down at her happily.

"Shut up," Clarke returned happily her eyes meeting mine again.

Looking down at her smiling face I was overcome with some emotion. It was odd, my smile dropped as I stared at her. Her smile dropped as well, and I was even more enveloped in this odd emotion I felt. Her eyes dropped momentarily looking below my eyes, at what I wasn't sure. Simultaneously, her lips took up my vision.

I lowered my face to meet her own. Our lips locked and sparks flew between us. I hadn't ever felt like this before. I'd only kissed one girl in my life, and it hadn't even been consensual. She had been hitting on me and I wasn't interested.

This though, this was different. This was a mutual shared feeling of desire. The urge to go farther than kissing was strong. I wanted to go farther. I wanted to feel more of her.

Just as suddenly as we kissed, Clarke broke apart from me. She was breathing hard a few feet away from me. She wouldn't meet my eyes.

Then I realized what had just happened. I had kissed Clarke Griffin. I wasn't even sure how I felt about her, and I had dived right in. She looked just as confused as I felt. I flexed my fingers into fists and back out again a couple times.

"Fuck," was all I said.

"Uh," Clarke struggled to think of something that would move us past this awkward moment. "Anything else you wanted to tell me?"

I struggled to think of something. I knew if I didn't, I would be back on her in a second. Neither of us wanted that. I was such a dumbass. Why? Why the hell did I do that?

"I think we should talk about splittin' up responsibilities," I said. "We're puttin' too much on you and Bellamy. Ya'll are fightin' all the time. We need work out who's responsible for what."

"Yeah," Clarke said still breathless from our kiss. "Okay. We'll find a time to talk about it with him."

With that said I turned my back on Clarke and walked towards the exit of the tent.

"See ya," I said.

"Bye," She returned equally awkwardly.

Hours later I found myself trekking through the woods, my crossbow slung over my shoulder, and my quiver on my back. It was relaxing to be alone again finally. I had spent the last few days surrounded by people with little time to myself.

I still didn't have a shirt. This was the reason I travelled out into the woods. I figured that there would be clothing in the underground bunker Finn and Clarke had found. Hopefully, there would be a shirt in roughly my size.

The wind blew through the trees chilling my skin. It was still dark and overcast after the hurricane. Cloudiness tended to follow after a storm for days. This cloudiness combined with the wind and cooling climate was freezing my ass off. I was generally comfortable in cold temperatures, but in this case, I was struggling. Mostly because I didn't have a shirt. Hopefully, there would be a sweater of some sort too.

I rubbed my left hand up and down the length of my of my right arm, trying to provide warmth through friction. My skin was covered in goosebumps as the wind ghosted over me again. I shivered, but continued walking. Though, I tried to stay in the light more than usual. This kept me a modicum warmer.

Despite the cold though, my thoughts continued returning to Clarke. Her lips on mine, the feeling of her hands, and just everything about her. Something about her was so enticing and beautiful. I couldn't put my finger on what, but I knew that I felt a connection to her. I didn't even know how she felt about the kiss we shared.

I was concerned that I might've hurt her by leaving so quickly. I wondered if I had made a mistake, because Clarke had seemed just as awkward as I had. It only made sense that I was not comprehending my true feelings correctly.

That was the problem with feelings, they were under no obligation to make sense to you.

I groaned in frustration. I was so confused. Feelings never were my strong suit, but normally I could understand them. I could dissect them and discover their real meanings. Yet, I couldn't understand these feelings, and I wasn't sure what that meant. I did know it made me uncomfortable.

I shook my head as I approached the hatch to the bunker. Dwelling on my confusing feelings would only make the problem worse. I would hash this out with Clarke later, for better or worse.

I tapped on the lid to the hatch, wondering if anyone or anything was inside the bunker. The clanging noise rebounded off the inside of the walls and back into my ear. It didn't sound like anyone was inside, seeing as there weren't any startled noises coming from inside.

I gripped on opposite sides of the hatch and turned the wheel counterclockwise. With a creak the hatch loosened and then with a push it opened to reveal a ladder leading down into the bunker. It was semi dark, but, thanks to my night vision, I could see well enough. I stepped down onto the ladder and closed the hatch over my head. I was slightly paranoid that someone would sneak into the bunker after me.

It was dark, even for me. Everything I saw was in shades of gray. All the night vision in the world wouldn't let you see if there was no light in the environment. There was some tiny amount of light filtering through the hatch.

I fumbled around for a few minutes searching for clothing. There were women's clothes quickly visible, but that wasn't really what I was looking for. I flipped up a blanket laying on the couch, finding nothing underneath it. The silence of the bunker was eerie. There was something off about total silence. I could hear my heart beating.

I cast my eyes around the bunker again, searching for any place clothes could be. I walked over to the table in the back-left corner. Under it, were multiple boxes, hopefully containing clothing. I pulled the first box out from under the table and placed it on the floor. Doing a quick search through the box, I found nothing. No shirts anywhere.

I pulled out the next box, and right on top was a gray jacket. It was some sort of fleece, soft to the touch and quite warm. I swiped it up and tossed it over by the ladder so I wouldn't forget it as I left. That would certainly help to keep me warm, maybe I could find an actual shirt now.

Inside that box there was a pad of paper and some pencils, but no more clothing. There was also a can of expired beans. The expiration date read twenty-sixty, and under was a small message, 'Good for twenty-five years only'. Well, that can of beans was long overdue. Part of me wanted to open it just to see just how bad they would smell, but I didn't really want to explode my nose.

After a quick search through the remaining two boxes, I found no shirts. Shit. Looked like the fleece was going to have to do for now, until we could arrange for supplies to be sent down from the Ark.

Bellamy Blake stood with his arms crossed opposite Clarke and Maynard. The shorter man had called them together for a brief meeting regarding the future of their camp, but Bellamy was feeling apprehensive. He still was not feeling comfortable with Maynard right now. In Bellamy's opinion Maynard had let himself get out of control the other night.

The two men hadn't spoken for days since their argument. The mood inside Bellamy's tent reflected the tension felt between the two. It was heavy on Bellamy's shoulders, and he felt a great desire to sock the shorter man in the face. Maynard had told Bellamy that he wouldn't fight back physically in their battle of words earlier, but Bellamy wasn't sure if that carried over to now. If there was one thing Bellamy was sure of it was that he didn't want to fight Maynard. Bellamy was angry but not delusional. He knew that Maynard would kick his ass. Difficult as it was to admit, it was the truth.

None of this meant that Bellamy would show weakness to Maynard. So, he stared straight into the cold gunmetal gray eyes. He tried to maintain a sense of security and confidence, though it was difficult when faced with Maynard's own predatory confidence. Bellamy wasn't sure how long the stare down lasted before a voice broke through the glacier thick ice.

"Are we going to talk or not?" Clarke asked the two of them.

"Yeah," Bellamy said still not breaking eye contact with Maynard. "Yeah, we can talk."

"Are you sure?" Clarke asked. "Because if you two are going to get in a fight, you should do it somewhere else."

"We ain't gonna fight," Maynard answered. "Promise."

Bellamy wasn't sure about that statement personally, as it felt like the fisticuffs would ensue at any second.

"Bellamy?" Clarke turned to him. "Can I have your word too?" Her tone was slightly patronizing, but it didn't really bother Bellamy. Maynard still occupied most of his attention.

"Yeah," Bellamy returned distantly. He refused to break eye contact first.

Maynard smirked and looked to his left at Clarke. Bellamy didn't smile but reveled in his triumph over Maynard. He felt like somehow, he had beaten Maynard, despite the obvious fact that Clarke had drawn his attention from Bellamy.

"So, May," Clarke once again attempted to start the conversation. "What's your big plan?"

May? Bellamy hadn't picked up on the nickname until just now. Why? Something was obviously going on between the two, but he wasn't sure what. He knew Finn and Clarke had slept together, but now something was going on between Maynard and Clarke too? It was practically impossible to keep up with all the drama in this camp. It was full of teenagers though, so it made sense.

"I think it's about time we start separatin' responsibilities," Maynard opened. "This whoever wants to help can help shit ain't really workin'. We need to give people jobs, because one, it'll make the load lighter, and two, it'll keep them from gettin' in trouble." He paused for a moment and ran his hand upwards along his recently shaved cheek. "I'm not sure exactly what jobs there are to do, but at a bare minimum there's huntin', gatherin', collectin' water, camp security, tech shit, civil engineering, medical work, and god knows what else." Maynard stopped again, smoothing his mustache down just under his right nostril. "Anyway," He began again. "I think we need to come up with another way of handlin' things. 'Cause right now it's too chaotic."

Clarke nodded along understandingly as Maynard spoke. Bellamy kept his arms crossed and his face obviously blank of any expression.

"Right," Clarke spoke after Maynard finished. "I already gave my seal of approval. Bellamy, I want to know your opinion."

Bellamy sighed not wanting to agree with Maynard after what he had done to Octavia. Unfortunately for his pride, Maynard's idea was solid. It would definitely help keep the camp running efficiently. He didn't give Maynard his agreement right now. He just wasn't ready.

"I don't know," Bellamy stated trying to come up with any reason he could to disagree. "What makes them qualified?"

"Under normal circumstances, nothing," Maynard said. "But now, the fact that they're breathin' makes them qualified."

"Why?" Bellamy asked obstinately.

"'Cause there ain't anyone else to do the job," Maynard said patiently. "I figured ya'd know that better than anyone else since you've been workin' with them the most."

"Most of them don't have two brain cells to rub together," Bellamy said condescendingly.

"He's right Bellamy," Clarke took Maynard's side. "It doesn't matter how qualified they are. Who else is going to get the work done? We can't count on anyone right now."

Bellamy was conflicted. Maynard had taken a position Bellamy would normally agree with, but Bellamy didn't want to agree with Maynard. His pride wouldn't allow him to agree, regardless of Maynard's correctness. Bellamy sighed again and looked straight at the ground.

"Ya know I'm right," Maynard said.

Bellamy looked up meeting Maynard's eyes. Something there told Bellamy that Maynard was fully aware of the reason for Bellamy's disagreement. Bellamy's pride and logic fought inside his head, each attempting to overpower the other. Generally, Bellamy considered himself disciplined enough to put his feelings aside to work towards his goal, but when it came to his sister Bellamy had no such discipline.

This time, Bellamy lost the stare down.

"Okay," Bellamy sighed. "I'm with you."

"Good," Maynard said. "I'd appreciate any additions to the plan. Plus, any ideas on how to give people jobs. Some jobs'll be more popular than others, and as much as it pains me to say, I think we have to force some people into jobs."

"I agree," Clarke said. "But, say we get a reasonable number of people in each job, how do we make sure they know what they're doing? I'm the only one in camp who has any sort of medical experience."

Bellamy hummed in agreement, "We could train them. Find people who do know what they're doing and let them teach the others."

"Actually, I'm on board with that," Maynard jumped in. "So, it's just a matter of finding who's qualified enough to teach people."

"Raven could lead tech," Bellamy commented. "And Monty could lead engineering."

"We know Clarke's gotta lead medical," Maynard pointed out.

"This topic of who can lead what is great and all," Clarke stopped the two men in their conversation. "But we need to know who to put where."

"Let's eliminate Miller and the rest of Bellamy's crew," Maynard said. "They can work with Bellamy to do patrols and all that."

"Okay, but what about everybody else?" Clarke questioned.

"Not sure," Maynard said. "But I think there could be some overlap between jobs. People could work on multiple things."

The conversation continued like this for a while. Ideas were exchanged, and Bellamy even forgot about his anger at Maynard for a time. The discussion was surprisingly civil as well, and for once, Bellamy found that he didn't completely disagree with Clarke.

Maybe the hundred really could come together and not only survive but thrive.

Bellamy found himself looking to Clarke more and more often these days. It was sort of strange. Bellamy didn't consider himself a romantic by any stretch of the imagination. Bellamy definitely wasn't a philanderer either though. He liked to have a good time and didn't think it was that big a deal to have sex.

Looking at Clarke though, Bellamy felt something. He wasn't sure what, but he seemed to have some sort of feelings regarding Clarke. Confusing as it all was, Bellamy knew for sure that he liked Clarke. He wouldn't dare admit it to anyone, least of all her, but he liked her a lot.

"One last thing," Maynard spoke up after they had come to some decisions about their division of labor. "I wanna train as many people as possible in basic combat skills."

"Why?" Clarke whipped her head towards Maynard. "What for?"

"It seems inevitable we're gonna have to fight the grounders," Maynard explained. "I think we need some idea of what we're doing."

"Aren't they just going to kick our asses though?" Clarke questioned.

"Maybe," Maynard conceded. "But somethin's better than nothin' in this situation."

"I'm with Maynard on this one," Bellamy agreed with the redneck's point.

"You can't just teach a bunch of criminals how to fight better," Clarke argued. "Don't you think they'll use their newfound skills to kill people?"

"Not if everyone learns the same skills," Maynard countered. "It's like raisin' the bar. They'll all still be roughly equal, only the level they're at will be higher."

"He's right," Bellamy jumped in. "The attacker will have to fight a better trained opponent, so really there isn't an advantage."

"I guess," Clarke said thoughtfully. "But even if this is a good idea, which I have doubts about, they'll have to learn from you May. Lots of them won't like that."

"Then they'll have to live with that," Maynard said coldly. "Either they can get over it, or they can get their ass beat every day they train."

"Who's training with you?" Bellamy questioned.

"Everyone," Maynard responded. "The better we know how to fight the better off we'll be. I could use yer help too Bellamy."

Bellamy made a confused face. Why would Maynard want his help?

"Ya probly went through some trainin' with the guard, right?" Maynard clarified his previous statement.

"Yeah," Bellamy responded. "But I was only a cadet."

"Was anyone else down here a cadet in the guard?" Maynard asked pointedly.

"No," Bellamy answered.

"Then yer probly better trained than everyone down here 'cept me," Maynard concluded. "I'll need someone to back my authority. People'll just start leavin' if I'm the only one in charge. If ya make it clear that I have authority over the trainin' and that ya back me up if someone questions my authority, then we probly won't have as much conflict."

"Okay," Bellamy said. "I'm on board." He wasn't exactly sure why he was giving Maynard his agreement considering their current relationship, but he knew that this was for the best.

"Clarke?" Maynard turned to the blonde woman.

"Fine," Clarke said. "I'm not sure about this though. If something goes wrong, then you'll have to stop."

Maynard said nothing. He looked at Clarke with an odd unreadable expression. There was a calculating look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure out just how far he could bend the rules without breaking them. Bellamy couldn't be certain though. Maynard was often difficult to read.

"I can't promise that," He said finally.

"May," Clarke spoke again turning to face him completely. "You can't keep pushing if it's not for the best."

"If the two of ya decide to stop me teachin' that's fine," Maynard said. "I'll stop teachin' the whole group, but there ain't no way I'll quit completely. If a couple people wanna keep trainin' with me, then I won't stop them."

Clarke huffed. Bellamy remained silent. Maynard was honest, and he wouldn't hide his opinion or lie to you. Bellamy appreciated that. Speaking the truth was hard but being honest made Maynard trustworthy and his opinion valuable.

"Also, one more thing before I go," Maynard broke the silence. "I think ya guys need to come to some understandin'."

Both Bellamy and Clarke gave the short man strange looks at his comment.

"I'm not sayin' ya gotta be best friends or anything," Maynard assured them. "Ya need to share a united appearance though. It'll help morale up and keep conflict down. Ya don't even need to agree on everything, but ya do need to stand together. It's makes ya'll look strong."

Maynard gave a nod to Bellamy and a pat on the shoulder to Clarke before walking out of Bellamy's tent. There wasn't a whole lot of sentimentality in that guy. He said what he said without beating around the bush.

"What does he want us to do?" Clarke questioned.

"I'm not sure," Bellamy said. "He might just be talking out of his ass though." He still wasn't ready to admit that Maynard could be right currently, not to anyone other than himself anyway.

"He doesn't do that," Clarke returned. "You know that."

Bellamy remained silent. He wondered whether they would be able to find any kind of trust at all. It wasn't necessarily his top priority to find common ground with Clarke, that honor went to keeping Octavia safe. Bellamy wasn't against working with Clarke, but there were more important things for him to worry about.

Clarke sighed, "You know," She said. "You might think you're doing what's best for everyone right now, but you're not." Clarke made a sad tight-lipped smile, then she too left.

Bellamy was left alone now. Progress had been made, yet Bellamy was left feeling uncomfortable and partially invalidated by the whole event. His pride screamed out to him to do everything he could to avoid agreeing with Clarke and Maynard. Bellamy wouldn't admit to himself he was wrong, but he knew that he was.

Bellamy groaned and fell back onto his cot closing his eyes to block out the pain he felt.

The crowd of delinquents stood together across the clearing from me. It had been a bit over a day since my conversation with Clarke and Bellamy. Thankfully, they had permitted me to give the kids combat training. They would need to know how to fight, not just flail around like fish washed up on the sand.

The entire group was gathered. Most of them were talking amongst themselves, not knowing what was going on. Others looked at the ground or listened to the people around them, not feeling entirely comfortable with the crowd. I didn't blame them.

"Alright then," Bellamy walked up next to me. "Showtime." I nodded.

"Hey," I spoke up loud enough to silence the crowd. When they calmed down, I said, "Well I'm gonna teach ya'll to fight."

Murmurs swept over those in the crowd. The only face that wasn't either surprised or concerned was Clarke. Her face was calm. Obviously, she had known about this plan though, so she did have an advantage when it came to composure.

"If ya have a problem with that," I continued. "Then ya should know that both Bellamy and Clarke agreed to this idea. If ya still have a problem, then ya can come over here and challenge me. If ya don't think learnin' to fight is important, then yer wrong. Everybody's gonna learn, because down here, not knowing how to fight, is gonna get you killed. Any objections?"

No one said anything, but I could tell there was some feeling of apprehension and some disgruntled individuals who didn't want to comply. Some shook their heads, maybe feeling like objecting, but not wanting to say anything.

"Anything to say at all?" I questioned again. "'Cause if there if there is, then I'd rather get that outta the way now."

The group maintained their silence for a solid ten seconds. Bellamy too said nothing. I still wasn't sure he fully supported me, but whatever he was doing for me right now, I appreciated.

"Good," I said, casting my eyes over the group again for any sign of dissent.

My words seemed to have brought the group to a silence, at least temporarily. Maybe that was sign that I was receiving greater respect from the delinquents.

"Alright," I started again. "Spread out and partner up. If ya can't find partners yerselfs I'll find a partner for ya."

Clarke led the way, pulling Octavia aside. Gradually, the others followed her example getting partners and finding a space where they could work together. Each person looked to me then, wondering what they should do.

"Right watch and listen," I ordered. "Don't talk and don't screw around. I want ya to face yer partner and get in a fighting stance. Ya want one foot in front of the other and both hands up protecting your face." I demonstrated to them my own stance, right foot in front of left foot, hands loosely closed.

"Now," I continued. "Learning basic hand to hand combat may not help in a large crowded fight, but if you're in a one on one situation, ya have to learn to defend yerself. Ya will end up in a fight sometime. The most important thing is not to lose yer composure. Don't fight with anger and don't get too excited."

I jerked my head to signal Bellamy over. He took a position opposite me.

"Bellamy's got more experience fightin' than ya'll so he's gonna be my example," I explained.

Bellamy and I both took up a stance. His left foot was in front and his hands were held in a traditional boxing guard. He was fairly square to me, as most boxers were when they fought. My hands by contrast were held in a position more like that of a Muay Thai guard, and my stance was sideways much like a Taekwondo stance would be.

"Watch yer partner's core," I said. "Keep yer eyes just above the stomach. That's where you'll see their movement first. It's impossible to disguise your movement at the core. Ya can fake with yer head or yer legs, ya can't fake with yer core."

I saw as the delinquents looked down to their partners' cores. They seemed to have some vague idea of what I was talking about.

"First thing yer gonna do," I continued. "Practice moving in yer stance. Don't drop yer guard, and don't let yer feet get parallel to one another. Ya do that, then you'll get kicked in the nutsack."

I got some light chuckles in response. Bellamy even flashed a small smile. At least things were going well so far.

"Get to it," I ordered. "Eyes on the core. Try to see where yer partner's gonna move before they move."

They began circling back and forth. At the start they were focused and capable, some even moved properly by maneuvering their feet in small motions. Taking large steps was an ineffective way of performing footwork.

Unfortunately, though, many of them lost their focus. They didn't have the capability to remain concentrated on a menial task like footwork practice. They started to drop their hands and joke with their partners.

"Stop," I ordered seeing the lack of discipline. "I know this ain't particularly interestin', but ya need to stay focused. It's damn hard, but it's important."

Their faces appeared calm. There were traces of rebellion though. People who didn't want to be told what to do were always difficult. I knew because I was one of those people. Generally, those people had to want to learn, they wouldn't just do anything. If there wasn't a point to the action, they wouldn't want to do it.

"Keep that in mind as we move forward," I said trying to be somewhat encouraging.

Over the next hour or so I taught the group some basic strikes and blocks, as well as head movement and footwork. These one on one sparring matches seemed to be working alright for the moment. They would have to learn to fight with some form of weaponry, but now they needed to know the basics of combat. In my opinion you needed to learn hand to hand before you learned how to use another kind of close-range weapon.

Some people seemed to better than others. I was most surprised by Octavia though. She seemed totally absorbed in the training, and for the most part she was kicking Clarke's ass. The look in Octavia's eyes stuck with me. It was a look of ferocity and complete devotion to her task. She barely blinked. In that moment I could see her desire to prove herself and become the best she possibly could be.

As I walked around the group giving out tips and ideas on how to fight better, Bellamy did the same. Only, when neither of us was speaking, we would lock eyes and awkwardly look away seconds later. Our issues felt almost impossible to fix. I had threatened his sister's life, even if I was never going to kill Octavia. I understood his anger but had no ability to convey to him how I felt. Until he was ready to make up, I had no ability to bring us back together.

I cast my eyes around feeling slightly more hopeful for the future. Seeing that most of the delinquents were putting effort into their training was encouraging. It didn't mean they would be able to fend off the grounders, but I wouldn't be the only survivor of an attack now.

I unzipped the fleece I wore exposing my skin to the air. The sun was making me sweat a good deal. Airing out was necessarily occasionally. I stopped and closed my eyes for a second, relishing the feeling of the cool air brushing over my chest.

I stopped by Finn and Raven, who seemed to be having a pretty good time. That was okay. Everyone learned differently, but it did distract you to some extent. Just like all things it was a balancing act, too far one way it's bad, too far the other way it's also bad.

They laughed some but seemed to maintain a lid on their excitement. Somehow, they were still disciplined enough to avoid getting caught by a powerful strike.

I moved on watching other pairs as the time ticked by. There wasn't that much time left for this introductory class. After all, there were other important things to do.

"Right," I called out. "Time out." I held my left hand to my outstretched middle and pointer fingers making a sideways T.

They all stopped and turned to me, awaiting my directions.

"I'm callin' it here," I spoke. "We're gonna do this again tomorrow and every day from now on."

There were some groans of protest at that. Thankfully though, those groans came from people I didn't know.

"Don't whine about it," I said. "If ya don't like it, too bad. This is about more than just yer survival, it's about everyone's survival."

Some faces still looked incredibly displeased. That wasn't my problem though, that was a problem with their attitude.

"Good work today though," I finished with an encouraging message. I waved my hand to signal the delinquents that they were free to do as they wished now.

The hundred left in groups like kids leaving the classroom. I locked eyes with Bellamy again. We held the eye contact for a moment, and I gave him a nod in thanks for his help. He didn't return the gesture, instead he turned his head from me and walked away coldly. It was going to be a while before Bellamy truly accepted me again.

I sighed and turned my back on Bellamy, closing my eyes in frustration. The situation I found myself in was complicated. I had to try to survive at any cost, but I needed to protect the people I cared about. Maybe I had been compromised by own feelings. Maybe my cold hard exterior was melting around me, exposing the rawness beneath.

Making friends had never been easy for me. I had never been able to relate to or understand most other people. That made making friends even harder, but something about these circumstances on irradiated Earth made it easier.

Somehow, I was connecting to people, finding a place I belonged, and discovering more about myself. It was odd for me to consider myself as a true leader. Now I was someone who trained people to fight and stay alive. I was so much more than I had ever been. I was a warrior.

"Maynard?" A voice spoke behind me as I leaned on a tree with my elbow.

I turned and raised my eyes to see Octavia in front of me. What she wanted I wasn't exactly sure, but I was willing to listen. My own personal realization left me feeling good about myself and willing to help.

"Yeah?" I returned acknowledging her presence.

"I just wanted to thank you," Octavia said simply. "For the training. It meant a lot to me."

"Thanks," I returned. "That's…" I paused for a moment to think of what to say. "Nice of ya."

"Yeah," Octavia returned awkwardly. She wanted to ask something else, just based on her demeanor.

I waited for her question, knowing that I would probably accept whatever it was. It only felt right that I did. I had threatened her life and hurt her. Sure, she forgave me, but I wasn't ready to forgive myself for that just yet.

"I was wondering if you could teach me?" Octavia asked finally.

"I did," I answered somewhat confused.

"I mean like, extra," Octavia explained. "I want to learn more."

I said nothing. I had no response to that. Wanting to learn more was the last thing I expected.

"I'm sorry," Octavia said. "I know you probably don't want to. Shit. This was a bad idea. I'm sorry."

She pulled a face and turned to walk away, leaving me behind. Now was the time, I had to say something or else I wouldn't have a chance to make up for my mistakes.

"Octavia," I said stopping her in her tracks. "I'll teach ya."

The shortest one so far. Sorry about that. It is fully original though, so hopefully that'll help it a little.