Howdy guys! Sorry this week's chapter is a little short, but I'm having surgery next Tuesday and I'll be missing a bunch of school for it, so I've been trying to get ahead on homework.

Enjoy! And let me know what y'all think! xx

Rachel was awoken the next day by sunlight. She and Miller had chosen to sleep outside with a few of the other delinquents, safe from the rain- had thankfully let up in the middle of the night -under the cover of the dropship's parachute, still caught a few feet off the ground on the low branches of the trees. She stared at the light shining through the red and white tarp for a while before getting up. There was more than enough to put together enough tents to house almost everyone, she'd have to talk to Bellamy about it when he woke up.

After deciding she'd had enough of Miller's snoring, she finally got up and carefully made her way out of the pile of teenagers back into the woods. Earth was even more beautiful at dawn. The light was softer, but still warm, and turned the spaces between the trees into glowing shafts of golden light. She stood there, just looking, pulling her jacket tight to her.

Her tranquility was interrupted, however, when she saw someone moving between the trees. Hoping it was Jasper and Monty returning, she ran towards them. But her heart sank when she found only Wells, the body of one of the boys that had died on the dropship in his arms. Curious, she followed him to a clearing a little ways away from the dropship.

She watched silently as he set the body down, picked up a shovel, and began to dig.

He was burying them.

Rachel stayed still behind a tree, watching as he dug a rough hole, only about half a foot into the ground, before going back to pick up the boy's body, and place it gently into the grave. He took extra care to make sure it was laid out in the proper way before he turned back to the shovel to cover it.

"We need to say a prayer for him." She finally stepped forward, before Wells could actually scoop any dirt on the body. He held the shovel in mid-air, obviously shocked to see anyone there, especially her.

She ignored his suspicion, and stepped towards the shallow grave, kneeling at the boy's side. "We can't put him to rest without giving him a prayer."

Wells shrugged, and set down his shovel. "I didn't think that mattered now, now that we're on the ground."

"It matters." She said, a little more bite in the words than she intended. "Besides, he didn't even get to see it." She saw him nod, and bow his head. "Do you know his name?"

"Glen. Glen Dickson."

"Alright." She straightened her jacket a bit in an attempt at some formality, and bowed her own head to pray. "In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again, Glen Dickson."

Both were quiet for several minutes, before Rachel stood, and approached Wells. "There was another, right?" He nodded. "I'll finish here, you go back to the dropship and get him."

Without saying anything, he walked away. Picking up the shovel, Rachel worked silently, building a mound of dirt over Glen's body. She tried to keep her mind either blank, or on the boy she was burying, but she couldn't stop thinking about the people at the dropship. What would they eat? Drink? Where would they sleep? Sure they had enough tarp for tents, but how would they set them up? What about beds? Blankets?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Wells returned, carrying another boy's body. He set it on the ground, and started stripping the boy's extra clothes off, leaving him in only his undershirt and pants, and added them to the pile of Glen's. After she finished the first mound, he held his hand out to Rachel. "I'll do the digging."

She let him take she shovel, and stood a few steps back while he started on the second grave. "It's very kind of you to do this for them."

He didn't look at her, he just kept digging. "Someone had to."

"Yeah," she stepped closer to him, prompting him to stop his work for a moment. "But I don't think anyone else here would have. I'm not even sure I would have." He blinked, obviously shocked at her kind words. She had never been rude to him, but there had always been a layer of distaste under her words. It wasn't there now, however. "You're a good guy Wells."

He glanced back down at the grave, then back up to her, and smiled. "Thanks, Rachel. For what it's worth, I've always thought that you're a pretty good person too, when you're not trying to be too much like your dad." She furrowed her brows, but ultimately chose to bit back a retort. "If I wasn't here, I think you would have done this." She smiled back at him. "Or at least, you would have gotten Nathan to do it for you."

They both chuckled softly, momentarily forgetting that they were here to bury someone. When they had finished, some of the animosity between them seemed to have lifted.

Everyone was awake by the time Rachel and Wells had buried the other boy and made their way back to the dropship. Wells carried the folded up clothes and shoes they had taken from the boys, and Rachel walked a few steps behind him. They made their way through the makeshift camp, Rachel's mind racing with ideas on how to make it a safer, more habitable place. She slowed her pace as they approached the dropship ramp, ready to make her way up and talk to Bellamy, but Atom stood guard at the top, only moving when he spied what Wells was carrying.

"Hey, where'd you get the clothes." He strolled down the ramp, stopping only a few steps away from Wells, obviously feeling very sure of himself with his newfound power.

Wells, however, seemed much more intimidated by him that he had been by Bellamy's other boys the previous night. He shied away slightly but still kept his head high. "We buried the two kids who died during landing."

"Smart." He eyed the clothes in Wells' arms, "You know, I'll take it from here."

Atom made to snatch the clothes from him, but Rachel stepped forward, blocking him and forcing him to step back.

"As much as you might look like it," she made a show of raking her eyes over his stained clothes, "these will go to someone who really needs them."

Wells looked over her shoulder, "just like on the Ark."

Before she had a chance to brush him off, Bellamy came strutting down the ramp.

Shirtless.

With a girl, also without a shirt, following closely behind.

Rachel bristled and looked away, something about the sight making her very uncomfortable.

"You still don't get it, do you, chancellor?" Rachel looked back at him just before he kissed the girl – and made a show of it – and watched her walk away for longer than was necessary. "This is home now. Your father's rules no longer apply." She bit her lip and rolled her eyes as he stepped towards them and grabbed a blue shirt out of Wells' arms.

Wells surged forward to try and grab it back, but Atom pushed him back, and was ready to do more, but was stopped by his leader. "No, no Atom, hold up." Bellamy held the shirt out in front of him, and goaded Wells. "You want it back? Take it."

Several tense moments passed. Then, Wells turned and tossed the remaining clothes on the ground. Delinquents immediately flocked to it, grabbing all they could as fast as they could. Rachel herself ran to grab the thicker of the two jackets, which she planned to give to the little girl she saw the previous night. The girl, whose jacket was so torn it barely held together, had stayed by the dying fire late into the night, trying to soak up all its heat. Nate had noticed her, and brought her to the parachute, where she slept fitfully beside him, his coat draped over her.

Rachel started to turn back to Bellamy to try and convince him that at least some rationing was necessary, but they were all pulled out of their actions by a shriek. Wells and Bellamy, still pulling on the blue shirt, took off towards the source of the noise. Rachel and Atom followed.

They found Murphy holding a struggling girl over the small fire. "Bellamy, check it out." He proudly smirked up at him, and the crowd that was gathering on the hill above. "We want the Ark to think that the ground is killing us, right? The girl he was holding tried to push herself away from him, but he only forced her face closer to the fire. "I figure it'll look better if we suffer a little bit first."

Wells shot towards him, pulling him off the girl before sending him into the dirt. He whirled on Bellamy. "You can stop this."

"Stop this?" Bellamy smirked, not moving from where he stood above him. "I'm just getting started." Suddenly, Murphy's fist collided with the distracted Wells, sending him tumbling and vulnerable to the delinquent continued assaults.

Rachel looked at Bellamy, expecting him to move to stop them, but he only watched, amused, as the two teens went at each other with a cheering crowd behind them. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Harper. The blonde mouthed, "What the hell?" before flicking her eyes to the fight below them.

Nodding, Rachel stepped forward to Bellamy, and whispered, "You know, this looks an awful lot like that book you were telling me about." His jaw clenched, and he turned his dark brown eyes on her to try and get her to back down, but she held his glare. After a moment, he raised his eyebrows and looked away.

"Alright." Bellamy walked down the slope just as Murphy moved to strike Wells, who was on all fours, trying to catch his breath, with his knife. "Wait!" He stepped in front of Murphy, and pulled Wells up by his jacket before thrusting his own knife at him. He glanced over his shoulder at Rachel, looking on with shock and a little bit of fear. "Now it's a fair fight." He stepped out of the way of the two fighters, positioning himself so that he could watch both them, and Rachel.

He had gotten her on his side, and convinced her to take her wristband off, but now he needed her to help take down Wells and Clarke Griffin. As much as many of the delinquents hated them for privilege and their parents, many more still respected them, and even worse, trusted them. If his power was to be solidified, he had to establish power over them.

Focusing back on the fight, he two boys circled each other, before Murphy surged forward with his weapon. Wells barely dodged the attack, and the next one, then went on the offensive himself. His strike was quickly knocked aside, and his arm slashed with his opponent's knife.

"This is for my father!" Murphy yelled, leaping forward to attack again. But Wells anticipated him this time, blocking his blow and capturing him in a hold, his knife to Murphy's long neck as he screamed at him to drop his weapon.

"Wells!" Clarke and Finn suddenly appeared from out of the woods, the rest of their group following. At her command, Wells dropped his knife and backed away from Murphy. Bellamy moved to keep the angry kid back when he tried to continue fighting, but was distracted by the appearance of his sister, leaning on a short raven-haired boy for stability.

He ran forward, calling her name and took her from the boy, helping lift her over a fallen log. Looking over her, she appeared to be alright, with the notable exception of the bloody cloth wrapped around her leg. When he turned back to confront Clarke, he found that Rachel, Miller, and Harper had come down the hill to do the job themselves.

"Where are all the supplies, Clarke?" Rachel asked, her arms crossed and hips cocked to one side. She was a smidge shorter than the blonde, but her intimidating green stare made up for what she lacked in stature. Clarke just stared back at her, either not wanting to respond, or not able to respond.

It was Finn who eventually answered. "We didn't make it to Mount Weather."

"Well what the hell happened out there?" Bellamy asked, still holding the injured Octavia up. If his sister was hurt because of Clarke, she'd have hell to pay.

"We were attacked," Clarke finally said.

Wells, picking up on her obvious nerves, gently asked her "Attacked? By what?"

"Not 'what.' Who." Everyone gathered turned to Finn, understanding but not processing what he had said, except Rachel, who stared blankly at the boy Octavia had come back with. Some were too stunned to speak, others whispered among themselves. Finn shrugged, "Turns out, when the last man from the Ground died on the Ark, he wasn't the last Grounder."

Clarke turned to Bellamy, then faced the whole crowd "It's true. Everything we thought we knew about the Ground is wrong. There are people here, survivors. The good news is, that means we can survive. The radiation won't kill us."

"Bad news is, the grounders will." Finn's bleak remark sent the crowd into a panic. Bellamy looked over them, ready to try and calm them down, but his eyes were drawn to Rachel, still staring at the shy kid standing a few feet away from Clarke, his face pointed down at the ground.

He watched, transfixed, as she slowly walked towards him. "Monty, where's Jasper?" At her whispered words, he looked up, black eyes wet with tears, his lips trembling as he tried and failed to get an answer out.

Clarke answered, turning away from Wells, "He was hit, the grounders took him."

A shiver went down Bellamy's spine as he watched the ice in Rachel's eyes melt into fierce flames. She stalked towards Clarke, and he took a moment to be thankful that he had her on his side.

"What do you mean 'he was hit'?" Every word was laced with a venom that would cause the likes of even Murphy to shy away from the small but fearsome girl. Despite the situation, Bellamy couldn't suppress a smile.

Impressively, however, Clarke didn't shy away, but stepped closer to her. "He was struck in the chest with a spear. We didn't see who threw it."

"No, I don't suppose you did," Rachel hissed. "You just ran, didn't you? And left my friend to die?" The two girls' noses were nearly touching before Wells pushed them apart.

Clarke moved to push him away, grabbing his wrist, but the words in her mouth faltered when she noticed it was bare. "Where's your wristband?"

Wells looked over at Bellamy, "Ask him."

Whirling on him, Clarke redirected her anger at Bellamy, her voice nearly as fearsome as Rachel's, "How many?"

It was Murphy who answered for him, "24 and counting."

"You idiots," she muttered, turning back to the rest of the delinquents, "Life support on the Ark is failing. That's why they brought us down here. They need to know the ground is survivable again, and we need their help against whoever is out there. If you take off your wristbands, you're not just killing them. You're killing us!"

Rachel froze at Clarke's words, unable to comprehend what she had heard. The Ark couldn't just die; it couldn't just fail. It was the most advanced piece of technology ever built, it was made to last a hundred years longer than it would need to. And besides, if the Ark was failing that would mean…

She swallowed, clenching her eyes shut.

That would mean that she and Bellamy had been wrong. That her father had sent her down here for a reason.

And she had taken off her wristband. She had effectively killed herself in her father's eyes.

Distantly, she registered Bellamy's voice, trying convincing the delinquents that they didn't need the people of the Ark to come down and help them. But they did, and she needed her father, and her grandmother.

Bellamy had been wrong, and she had helped him become the de facto leader of the delinquents. She had to stop him from taking off anymore wristbands.

But first, she had to find Jasper, even if it was only his body.