Chapter 8

Bellamy ran and put his arm around Charlotte in comfort, knowing what he would see.

"Son of a bitch." Blake muttered, "Atom." His voice raised, running up to the body, finally snapping Amber out of her trance and led her to follow closely behind.

Bellamy crouched beside Atom, the older boy stared into his friend's eyes and all one could see was pain reflected in the dying boy's eyes staring back at him. Amber crouched on the other side of Atom, remaining silent as he whimpered, attempting to form words for Blake. Bellamy dropped his ears closer to Atom's mouth, and finally deciphered what he was saying.

"Kill me." Blake stiffened. Atom begun to repeat the words over again, the dying boy managing to look at Amber once. Her eyes met Blake's and she felt…sympathy, maybe. Is that what it is? She blinked away the questions she was asking herself, it wasn't the time. Atom started to gasp, and Blake stood leaving Amber sitting uncomfortably still, watching the few teenagers who fell behind finally catch up, standing next to Charlotte, all sharing looks of shock. Charlotte walked up to Blake, never taking her eyes of Atom. The young girl reached into her pockets, and pulled out the knife Bellamy gave to her the day prior. She placed it in his hand, and he stared at it. Amber turned to Atom, and something came over her. She brushed his hair with her calloused hands, and he fluttered his eyes shut for a moment, trying to steady his breath.

"Don't be afraid." Amber heard Charlotte say.

"Go back to camp. Charlotte, you too." Blake's tough voice was directed at all, except Amber. Who, when he turned back to Atom, was soothing the dying teenager. Blake watched for a moment at most, she looked so calm. She knew how to deal with pain, he thought. Bellamy crouched down once more, and Atom's eyes opened again as his breathing became harsh.

"Kill me." The boy whispered once again.

Amber stared at Blake's knife. It hovered in the air, shaking. He was hesitating. Her eyes fluttered to his face, his breathing was ragged and she knew he was afraid. She felt it. She wasn't afraid, and the reason why became clear to her. Bellamy may not be a killer, but she is.

"Bellamy, please." Atom choked as a crack of a twig alerted Blake and Amber of Clarke who now stood a close distance away, her mouth ajar and her breathing fast. She started forward, throwing her backpack down and crouched beside Amber, studying Atom.

"I heard screams." She said.

"Amber and Charlotte found him." Blake responded, Clarke looking at Amber briefly. "I sent Charlotte back to camp." His face was distraught, thinking of the little girl's nightmares, and how they'd worsen after discovering Atom like this.

Clarke looked at the suffering boy once over, analysing every raw inch of flesh that oozed and caused immense pain for Atom. She shook her head at Bellamy, there was no saving him. He nodded, and Clarke took a deep breath.

"Okay." She said to Atom. Hesitantly, she leant forward past Amber to caress Atom's hair. Clarke reached her hand over the boy's chest to get Bellamy's knife, but she was stopped by Amber's hand. Clarke swung her face to Amber's, who's calmness was eery, yet it was clear to her she was being sincere.

"Let me." Her golden eyes met Blake's, and after a long second, he nodded, letting the knife go.

"Okay." Amber whispered, looking at Atom's face, meeting his eyes. "I'm going to help you, alright?" With her free hand, she tucked her hair behind her ear. She inched closer, humming a song Alex used to sing to her after recovering from the panic attacks she got when she had to hide in the tiny air conditioning vent, or in the even smaller linen closet. Her hand begun caressing his hair once again. Bellamy couldn't help but stare. She was being so gentle. For someone so hostile, so quick to make last-minute decisions, like jumping in front of a hungry jaguar, or defending her brother, she was taking her time. It was clear to him now what her brother meant the other day. She cared. She was impulsive but she never has experienced half the things that he or any other teenager experiences. One minute she cares, next minute she doesn't. Is she confused or is she just confusing? Once again he was taken aback, she was completely and totally unreadable. And he couldn't stop trying to read.

Her humming continued as Blake and Clarke watched on. She didn't need to build up any courage. She waited until he deeply exhaled, signifying what was to be his last breath, and she pushed the knife into his neck. When his chest stopped lowering, she stopped humming, and dropped her hand.

Amber looked up, her straight hair fell forward from behind her ears, swinging in the light breeze over the ridges of her face. Her golden eyes met Clarke's, then Bellamy's. The three shared a moment of something Amber could not explain, it was mutual, it was grief, it was sombre and it was silence.

"Hey everybody they're back!" Somebody called in the camp, Amber's face remained focused on the ground, as it had been for the majority of the walk. She did not feel shame, she did not feel remorseful, she did what had to be done like she always had, but what kept her eyes pinned to the dirt below her was the look on Clarke and Blake's face when Atom finally stopped breathing. They were not disgusted, and they were not in shock. It was different. It was a look of sympathy, commiseration, pity, something that Amber did not understand. It frustrated her that she didn't know what she was seeing.

Clarke was no murderer. And neither was Bellamy. Amber was. She had taken lives before, she knew the feeling of having somebody's life slip away by the stroke of her knife, her record was already tarnished, it only seemed responsible if she'd add another name on her list to stop another person's list from beginning.

And that's just all Blake could think about. She ended Atom's suffering so he or Clarke didn't have to. But, if she knew about the Chancellor, would she still think he wasn't a killer?

Octavia storming towards Bellamy broke him out of his questioning.

"Octavia, just stay there." She kept going, butting into his chest. "Please, stay back." She struggled against him and broke free.

She crouched to a covered body on the floor that Amber stood next to. She didn't carry him back to camp, but she walked beside those who did. Octavia knew who it was before she pulled back the fabric of the jacket that covered his face. His raw and bloody face only confirmed her suspicions. Amber watched Octavia's face shift and her chest felt strangely weak.

"Atom." She breathed, her eyes becoming wet with tears.

"There's nothing I could do—" Bellamy begun, but his sister threw her hand up to warn not to continue.

"Don't." Her voice shook, and Amber shifted on her feet slightly, a strange feeling of guilt bubbling in her, much to her dismay. Octavia exhaled a ragged breath and pulled the fabric of the jacket back over Atom's lifeless body. She stood suddenly, and started off back towards the drop shift, averting her eyes away from her brother.

"O—Please—" Bellamy begun to follow after her, but somebody stepped in front of him. It was Amber, shaking her head solemnly, a strange sight to see. A few seconds later, her brother joined her side. He had overheard the two's argument the day prior before he had asked Amber to join him on the hunting trip, it seemed that both sibling duos weren't getting along so well now that they were down on the ground. Another thing in common with the golden eyed girl in front of him. Bellamy sniffed, ending his prolonged eye contact with Amber, and instead darting his eyes to the ground.

"Lose anyone here?" He asked John, and his sister turned to face him. Despite what John had said to her, he was still her baby brother. She respected him and cared for him. He could hate her guts and never want to be near her ever again and she would still do whatever it takes to know that he's alive.

"No." John's face remained straight.

"Jasper?" Bellamy's eyes remained on the ground, Amber stared at her brother, waiting for an answer. Jasper had saved her life, not that she deserved it, but there was something in her that…cared.

"Still breathing." John paused, allowing Amber to exhale, "Barely. I tried to take him out but your psycho little sister—"

Suddenly, Blake plunged towards John, pushing him back with force. Amber's vision went red, she stepped forward instantly as her brothers collar was bunched in Bellamy's fist. She was about to pull Blake off him but she was held back by some kid, snapping her back to reality.

"My what?!" Blake's face was inches away from John's, his voice echoed through the whole camp. Amber forcefully shoved the person holding her back away from her, without looking at who it was, she lifted her foot and stamped down on theirs, forcing them to retreat back.

"Your little sister." John said. Amber was too late to pull Blake off her younger brother, as John, much like she had seconds earlier, had pushed his opponent away himself.

"Yeah, that's right. My little sister. Got anything else you want to say about her?" Blake stood his ground. And Amber only stared. What was holding her back? It was only a few days ago she had decked Wells without a second thought.

"Nothing." John's voice was monotone, and his face was straight. It runs in the family, Amber thought. Blake inhaled, finally stepping away from John. He turned to a few kids that did absolutely everything he said.

"Get him out of here." He ordered, not talking about John, but Atom's body that still laid on the floor. And with that, Bellamy disappeared, as well as all the spectators, leaving the two siblings with bad reputations behind.

John didn't realize he wasn't alone, though. He huffed through his nostrils, grinding his teeth. Gripping tightly on the knife in his pocket, he didn't hold it in his hand for more than a moment before he threw it, pinning it into the center of a nearby tree.

"And you say I'm drawing attention to myself." Amber laughed, taking her knife from her pocket just as her brother did. She took her time however, throwing it up into the air once and catching it before she too launched it towards the tree beside John's, managing to land it exactly level to where her brothers landed a few feet beside it. John was good, but she was good. She had years on him. She learnt how to use a knife the day she hid in a public place for the first time, when John was born. For better or for worse.

John's eyes landed on Amber's smaller frame, unimpressed, "I can't remember you ever being this annoying on the Ark."

"Come on John, why do you suddenly hate me so much?" Amber said. Hate was a strong word, but Amber only ever learnt to use strong words.

John stepped closer to his sister, furrowing his brows, "I don't hate you, Amb. You know that." He paused, and Amber rolled her eyes at his tone.

Amber cleared her throat, dropping her voice lower, she impersonated John, "Amby you of all people should shut your mouth up before people think you're going to go all American Psycho on their asses." She referenced one of the few surviving novels they had read when they were young. Her face was stiff and there was a glint of humor in her eyes as her awful impression of John did not do him justice, at all.

John laughed, a genuine laugh, something that probably only she had ever truly witnessed. "I didn't say that."

"You so did." Amber smiled, walking towards the tree her knife stuck out of. She tensed her muscles as she pulled the weapon out, shoving it into her waistband as it got free. She pulled John's out too and handed it to him roughly.

You killed Atom, huh?" Amber furrowed her brows; how could he tell?

"Yeah, someone had to do it." She grew uncomfortable, John didn't look like he was accusing her of anything, though, he had this look on his face like…like he was thinking about something. Still, she looked to the ground, she didn't feel guilty, she didn't regret what she did, she just felt…weird…about it.

"And you thought it should be you because you're the murderer with nothing to lose?" Hit the nail on the head. She looked up, meeting her brother's eyes.

"How could you tell it was me who did it?" She asked, expecting a deep and analytic answer, something only John could pick up, but that wasn't what she was met with.

"Blood on your hands, literally." John referred to the smear of dried blood that caked her left wrist and palm. Her mouth dropped slightly before she looked down to her hand which she now held close to her chest. Confirming that what he said was true, she cringed, cursing herself for not realizing earlier. Unmannerly, she inched her hand closer to her face, pursing her lips, she spat into her open palm. Her saliva trickled down her chin slightly, but she did not care. Once the pool she created in her hand was settled, she rubbed it with her other hand hastily. Checking to see if the dried blood was gone, she was satisfied, and dropped her hands to her side, rubbing her black jeans to dry her hands. John did not look disgusted, he looked impressed by her nonchalant mannerisms.

"Amber, you and I aren't like the others and you know that." John said, catching his sister off guard. She knew what he meant.

"It doesn't have to be like that." She thought, and her brother was taken aback by her look of innocence.

"Saving a few people's asses doesn't make you a hero Amb." He crossed his arms, standing still in conversation, waiting for Amber to retort. And she did just that.

"And sucking up to Blake's ass doesn't make you a good guy either."

The corner of his lips turned upwards, "Don't you realize we're the bad guys by default? It's literally how we were raised, it's in the way we walk—"

"You didn't even kill anyone when you set the guard's quarters on fire, we're not exactly on the same level of bad guy. I'd say I'm pretty much a better bad guy than you." She grinned, the two were like preteen siblings, except they weren't arguing over who gets more kills in a video game, they were fighting over who's killed more people with their own hands.

"Shut up." He wasn't joking.

"Okay, but there's other murderers in the camp. I, personally, wouldn't really say I have clear psychopathic tendencies but there are surely others who do."

"The others stay quiet, unlike you. You see how we feel the need to jump into action when somethings going wrong, or even when somethings going right? You love chaos, don't you? Don't answer that, I know you do because I do too, and so did our mom." His voice lowered.

"So what?"

"So, when things turn to shit we only have each other. We'll be the first to blame, even if some dumb kid trips on a rock and cracks his head open, there'll be someone pointing the finger at you." He pointed at his older sister, who raised an eyebrow.

"Is there a point to all of this? Or are you just attacking me for no reason?" She wasn't disagreeing, in fact, she agreed to everything he said. She was just confused as to why he was saying it.

"Amber, don't get attached to anyone. Don't make friends. Don't make enemies. Keep the leaders close. Remain neutral. So on, so forth." His arms waved about, his sister only rolled her eyes and crossed her arms tightly, shifting on her feet.

"So, that's why you're sucking Blake's ass." She smiled, feeling satisfied, "I sure know an ulterior motive when I see one."

"Don't act like you're so innocent." It was him shifting on his feet now, "I saw the way you stopped him from going after Octavia before. My big sister, trying to make friends."

"Shut up Murphy before I beat your brains in, I loathe the egomaniac, I think I've made that clear enough." She spat, ready to walk away before she saw the look on her brother's face, walking away would only make him assume the worst, so she stood her ground, breathing before she confessed, "I was stuck in a fucking cave with him last night, him, me, and that little girl Charlotte, him and I talked for like five minutes just to pass the time, we're not friends and never will be, I don't have time for friends when I'm too busy worrying about your sociopathic ass."

Murphy gave her a look, a mix of both disgust and suspicion. She knew what he was thinking. Immediately, her stomach churned, "God, John– don't be fucking gross." Amber, with the blink of an eye, landed a powerful punch to her little brother's arm. He winced, cursing under his breath.

"Jeez Amber—" Rubbing his shoulder, "I was fucking kidding." Amber watched as John's grinning face changed once he made eye contact with her. "You're blushing."

"I'm what?" She frantically rubbed her face, unsure of what he meant.

"Your cheeks—they're red. So, something did happen—" John began to laugh, and she grew angry.

"Nothing fucking happened!' Amber yelled, a little too loud. His laughing grew more hysterical. "I'm going to kill you John I swear to God—" She launched at him, but he threw his hands up, stopping her before she could clamp her hands around his neck.

"Alright! Nothing happened, I get it—" John smirked as Amber narrowed her eyes, suddenly going for his neck again, "I get it!"

She dropped her hands, satisfied, she smiled. "God, I hate you so much."

"I love you too Amb. Now I'm going to get to bed before Jasper starts screaming again." John began to back away after Amber nodded, but stopped abruptly when he thought of another thing to say, "Oh, by the way, you're helping with building the wall tomorrow."

She looked less than enthusiastic, "Do I have a choice in the matter?"

"Not really. Bellamy's orders. Night, Amber." He laughed, walking away towards the drop ship, leaving her standing with an unimpressed look on her face.

End of Chapter 8

A/N: THANKYOU FOR 100 FOLLOWS. It means so much that someone, let alone all 100 of you, is enjoying my writing. Please leave me a review, tell me about yourself, what you are enjoying so far in this story of mine, and what you are hoping to see from the narrative in the future.

I love you all.

- Emma