Miller clicked his handgun to safety and stuck it in the waistband of his pants. Man was it nice to have a gun again. Sure, Miller could use anything as a weapon, but the result of a gun was final. It was security, something he'd missed while in Mt. Weather, and he didn't plan on giving it up anytime soon.

Leaving the mountain had been surreal. He'd been chained to a wall, waiting to be drilled into until there was nothing left, but then Octavia freed them. Everything was a blur once they got outside. Seeing the sun again for the first time in ages, smelling the pine trees and feeling the wind on his face. It went to his head, overwhelming his senses. Miller had been silent all the way back, as were the others. But they made it. Goodness had they made it.

"What's the plan for today Nate?" David Miller inquired. Looking over his son's shoulder, he observed the map spread out on the bottom bunk. The camp decided families could squeeze into the bunkers while those without could take the tents until construction was complete. Tents were pitched slightly to the side, and behind the camp in case any visitors snuck through the gates. Guilt gnawed at Miller, because not being in a tent meant that his family, or parent in his case, had survived. He'd buried the sadness that emerged whenever he remembered telling the parents of their dead child back at the drop ship. The complete despair and helplessness were recognizable when the delinquents had returned from Mt. Weather and more parents found out they'd lost a child. Beneath his guilt was thankfulness, however, because Miller did have his dad next to him. A weight had been taken off his shoulders when his David had hugged him in that god forbidden torture room. All is forgiven. We're going home. Miller had cried into his father's shoulder when he'd heard it, wiping the tears away before ushering people out of the mountain.

"Food patrol mostly. We want to have extra for when this storm comes," Miller informed, moving his finger along the trail on the map.

The techies had built weather radar, which alerted the camp to the massive rainstorm on its way. The rest of the camp was busy constructing a makeshift irrigation system to catch the rainwater. Hopefully they'd save enough to start planting crops and let everyone breathe a little.

"Be careful. If you need me I'll be with squad alpha," David said, clapping Miller on the back. His hand rested a second longer than it used to back on the Ark. Back when things were simple.

"Will do pops," he assured, grabbing his bag and heading outside.

Miller lifted his face to the sun and took in a breath of clean air. Half of the reason he joined Lincoln's squad was because it was an excuse to be outside a majority of the day. The mountain had only increased Miller's claustrophobia, and he was taking advantage of the opportunity to explore the outdoors. He saw Octavia and Lincoln crouched down and drawing something in the dirt with sticks, so he went to investigate. "The stream flows this direction, so the soil in this quadrant would be best," Lincoln explained, pointing to a rectangle he'd drawn.

"How bad do you think this storm is going to be?" Miller joined in.

"Not sure," Lincoln replied. "Hopefully not as bad as the one that hit when we were in the drop ship."

There were a few regrets Miller carried with him in life. To him, regrets were a waste of energy. If he did it in the first place, then there was a reason for it, and therefore no need to be shameful about it. Miller did, however, regret what he did to Lincoln when they were in the dropship. Not a man of many words, Miller had apologized to Lincoln in his own way. Volunteering for duties, holding back sarcastic comments during their outings. Lincoln noticed and accepted these offerings, placing responsibilities on Miller and asking how his father was. The two never spoke of the past, but they were civil towards one another.

"What the hell is wrong now?" Octavia interrupted, looking past Miller.

Miller turned his head to see Bellamy poking Jasper in the chest, scolding him. The three took off in their direction when Jasper shoved Bellamy.

Miller wrapped an arm around Bellamy to keep him from going back at Jasper.

"What's going on?" Octavia asked Bellamy, but her eyes were fixed on Jasper.

"What you called Monty was uncalled for. If you're going to blame anyone, blame me," Bellamy ignored his sister's question.

"What did you call Monty?" Miller turned toward Jasper, releasing Bellamy. They'd been so preoccupied in their projects that Miller hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Monty. The two became close in the mountain, maybe closer than Miller had originally thought. He wasn't able to sort out his feelings towards Monty while they were fighting off mountain men, but a part of him hoped they'd be able to now that they were relatively free again.

"I'm only speaking the truth, and I won't place all the blame on you to spare Monty. He's just as responsible for her- their death as you and Clarke are," Jasper faltered.

"You need to get over it," Octavia stepped toward Jasper. "Yes, it was tragic, but there wasn't another option. If they hadn't done what they had none of us would be standing here right now."

"Bullshit!" Jasper exclaimed, a black rage in his eyes. "We could have fought! You think you're some fierce warrior but you support their easy way out."

"Easy? You think the decision we had to make was easy?" Bellamy stood within an inch of Jasper's face. "Even if we fought, we would have lost. We were out numbered and out matched."

"Those people you murdered were trying to help us," Jasper countered.

"They knew the risks," Miller spoke.

"Stay out of this Miller!" Japer's eyes darted to him and then back to Bellamy.

Miller's nostrils flared and he balled his fists. Love had clouded Jasper's judgment in the mountain, and now the loss of Maya was consuming him.

"Go apologize to Monty," Bellamy ordered.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Jasper replied coldly, and with that he stormed away.

Bellamy ran his has through his hair in exasperation. Miller had noticed the change in the rebel leader, the shadows under his eyes, how much he put it on himself to look after the delinquents. Miller too felt a stronger sense of care towards the kids he'd crashed into Earth with. No longer kids, really, and substantially fewer lives left.

"He was worse than I imagined," Octavia commented.

"We need to find Monty before worrying about him," Bellamy decided. "I'll get Harper on it so that we can focus on getting food."

"I can stay back and help her," Miller offered, still curious as to what Jasper could have said to Monty to incur Bellamy's anger.

Bellamy gave Miller a sad look. "I appreciate it, but we need all the help we can get before this storm."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Miller's face, but he stifled it. Bellamy was right. They needed extra food, and Harper was more than capable.

"I'll go tell Harper, you guys find Monroe and get ready to leave," Bellamy instructed.

They followed his command and prepared to exit the gates of camp. Miller instinctively brushed his hand over the gun on his hip. His shoulder's relaxed at the touch. Never again was he, or anyone he loved, going to be chained up. Never again.

…

Miller found it funny how differently people reacted to him on Earth. In the ark, he was under constant, disapproving looks. The adults treated him as a criminal, and nothing else. Their faces would crinkle like they smelled garbage. It was night and day from the cheers he got when he and the rest walked through the gates.

The squad returned not only with bags full of berries and nuts, but Lincoln and he managed to catch a load of fish. People complimented Miller, but the sole source of pride Miller felt was the smile his dad gave him.

"You all did a fine job," Kane announced, and then turned his attention to Lincoln. "All of you."

Lincoln nodded in acknowledgment.

Night had settled by the time they'd returned to camp, and people were starting fires to squeeze in the last bit of work. Miller headed toward squad alpha to be with his dad, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw Harper running towards him.

"Miller, I can't find Monty," she grabbed his arm, her tone panicked.

"You've been looking this whole time?" he kept his tone calm for Harper's sake. Inside, Miller was freaking.

"I've checked everywhere. He's not in any of the rooms, he's not with Jasper or Wick or Raven," Harper rambled. Her bond with Monty had become steel when Dr. Tsing captured them. They were the ones to experience the bone marrow horrors first. There was an unspoken agreement to look out for each other, and Harper was breaking it. Miller saw the anxiety on Harper's face, and took the flashlight from her.

"You've done the best you can. Go let Bellamy know that I'm going to find him and I'll radio back when I do," Miller told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He was attempting to get better at the whole comforting thing, because heaven knows his people needed it.

Harper nodded, eyes watering, and took off towards Bellamy. Miller sighed. Truth was, he was scared. He didn't think Monty would hurt himself, not after they fought so long to survive, but no one left the mountain mentally unscathed. Jasper's actions toward Monty was the breaking point, at least, that's what he assumed. Whatever Jasper had said to him, Miller knew Monty well enough to know he'd believe it.

"If I was a sad computer hacker where would I go?" Miller said to himself. Monty wouldn't be inside, there's no way to hide without being noticed. He wondered to the techie's workshop, but only Raven and Wick were there.

"He couldn't have gone too far," Miller reminded himself, his panic rising. His distrust for the grounders had grown when he heard the deal they made with Dante. What if Monty went too far into the woods and was captured? The familiar feeling of dread washed over him. Last time Monty was captured, he'd been drilled into. Miller picked up the pace.

Behind the camp, there was a trail that his squad had gone down the first day back. It led to the drop ship, which they had revisited to gather the slim amount of supplies that remained. Miller didn't know where else to go, so he started on the trail.

It wasn't long before his flashlight caught something in the foliage. Miller squinted at the orange object poking out from behind a tree. Hand on his gun, flashlight in the other, Miller crept towards it, cautious to not step on any sticks. It appeared to be fabric. Miller was almost standing beside it when it suddenly shifted.

"Monty?"

Miller exhaled the breath he'd been holding. Shiny, brown eyes peeked up at him from an orange blanket, but Monty didn't say anything.

Sitting down beside him, Miller clicked the flashlight off. The moonlight illuminated their surroundings enough to see. He rested his back against the tree and glimpsed at Monty. His eyes were red, and the blanket was stretched tightly around his trembling frame. Miller hadn't seen Monty like this before, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Where'd you get this from?" Miller addressed the blanket. Asking him what he was doing out here would have been a pointless question.

"The drop ship," Monty's voice weak.

"Next time you want to take a day trip, maybe you should invite someone," Miller advised.

"Logically, it made sense," was Monty's response.

"Going to the drop ship alone?"

"Killing them."

Miller was silent for a beat. "Yes. It made sense."

"But morally, it was wrong," Monty stated.

Dammit Jasper Miller cursed in his head. He put an arm around Monty's shoulders, pulling him close. Monty subconsciously scooted closer to him for body heat, his shoulder pressed into Miller's chest.

Miller dropped his head and lowered his pitch, "You saved us Monty. You did the right thing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not a monster."

Miller's mouth went dry. Jasper would know the word to hurt his friend the most, knew what tone to speak it in so he would believe it. Monty Green, the person who gave people hope, the most optimistic person Miller knew, thought he was a monster. Miller strengthened his grip on him.

"You're not a monster. Any of us would have done the same thing." Miller paused. "When they got my dad, I'd never been so furious in my life. Watching them hurt him…I swore I'd kill every person in that place."

Monty's eyes flickered up at him, and then back down to the ground. "I wish I was as strong as you."

Miller's heart ached.

"No Monty, no you don't. There's only one Monty Green in this world, and we need him. Don't mistake your kindness for weakness."

Monty's bottom lip quivered. Oh no Miller thought, wrapping his other arm around him, bringing Monty into a hug.

"Do you get them too?" Monty whispered. "The nightmares?"

Of course he did. Miller got them regularly, and made a conscious effort to push them out of his mind. It was always the same. One of his friends or his dad would be strapped on the table, a drill inserted into every inch of available skin. Miller would be chained to the wall, as someone he loved was tortured before his eyes.

Monty hadn't waited for an answer before tears rolled down his cheeks. Miller fought back his own.

"C'mon. Time to go back," Miller spoke softly, and pulled Monty up to his feet.

Miller practically held Monty up the rest of the way back to camp. The day's events took its toll on Monty. Miller half expected him to fall asleep standing up. He snuck Monty into his room, and explained the situation to his father.

"Of course he can," David agreed, and Miller deposited an exhausted Monty onto the bottom bunk bed. He was out in seconds, and Miller made sure to leave his orange blanket secured around him.

Miller, refusing to kick his old man out, found Monty's tent and kicked off his shoes before stepping in. He then radioed Bellamy.

"Thank God," Bellamy's relief crackled through the speaker. "Good job Miller."

Miller didn't see it as a job well done. He found Monty, but Monty was gone in his head. He thought he was a monster. Miller wasn't sure how he'd accomplish it, but he vowed to make Monty see himself for what he truly was. Good.