Amber ran faster than anyone else. She found Jasper just outside the wall, frantically calling Octavia's name.

"Octavia?" He called, nearing a thick tree stump. Suddenly, a delinquent jumped out, frightening the already shaken Jasper. In his arms he held Octavia in a head lock, a sneer on his face. Amber was frozen in alarm. Octavia pushed the boy away from her as he laughed, and Jasper turned away embarrassed.

"Jerk!" Octavia yelled at him, "Get the hell out of here." She didn't care to give the laughing boy any more attention, she made no eye contact as she turned to see if Jasper was alright. If Octavia wasn't going to punch him, Amber was.

She no longer stood still, as Octavia begged Jasper to understand that there was nothing to be afraid of, Amber was charging towards the grinning hooded teenager. She was a few feet away from him, and his smile dropped as she cracked her knuckles. "How many people do I have to threaten today?" She said through gritted teeth. Amber pushed him backwards, but unlike Octavia, she was more violent. He stumbled back, tripping on a fallen branch, landing on his back with a hard thud. "Dude your sense of humor fucking sucks—" She said, stepping beside him as he tensed, afraid of what she was planning on doing, "Pretending to be a grounder? For what?" Amber lifted her foot over him as he winced, she was towering over him now, was she going to straddle him and choke him? Or kick him until his ribs crack? She did neither, she bent down and grabbed the fabric of his jacket like he did with the other boy before, and pulled him up into a sitting position, his faces inches away from hers. "Get a fucking life." And with that, she pushed his torso back onto the ground, he let out a grunt as his back hit the floor once again. As she straightened her body, the boy winced again.

"Amber." A male voice from behind her forced her to swing her body around and step away from the teenager on the forest floor. John stood at the opening of the wall, Bellamy beside him, O and Jasper a short distance away from them. It was John who said her name, he said it in a warning tone, and she understood what he was saying. Don't make enemies. Amber looked to the ground, then back up, and noticed the look on Bellamy's face. He was concerned, did he think she was going to hurt the boy? Did it look that way? But, why did she care so much? Octavia and Jasper were staring at her, too. She didn't like the attention she was getting, so she shrugged her shoulders, and tucked her hair behind her ears.

"What are you guys staring at?" She began to walk forward, acting as if nothing happened. "Come on, we got a wall to build, right Blake?" She faked a grin while walking directly in between John and Bellamy through the gap in the wall, making sure to bump Blake's shoulder roughly with hers on the way.

It was getting dark, and Amber's arms ached, but she pushed through it. It had been a while since she pushed herself, she used to do it once a day in confinement, but slowly stopped as her rations thinned, nearing the end of her stay in the cell. She used to use a pipe that hung from the ceiling to do pull-ups, the guards watched her push her body all day until she passed out in a pool of her sweat. It felt good, she remembered, the pain of doing ten too many sit-ups, the aching of her thighs the morning after doing fifty too many squats. She liked the pain, she felt strong, it felt better than punching the metal walls of the cell, which had broken her fingers six times. Now, on the ground, her abdomen was pulsating. She squatted down and lifted yet again another piece of wood she had cut earlier, probably the two hundredth of the day, and walked it to a teenage boy who was tying them down to create a platform against the wall for designated delinquents to look out into the woods from. Amber was well aware of the people watching her throughout her time helping build the wall. Did they think she was not capable of doing something productive? Dropping the heavy wood down on the ground, she huffed and cracked her aching back, turning around to pick up sheets of metal they're using as wall reinforcements, so it survives through the harsh weather they were expecting in winter. One, two, three sheets of heavy metal passed from one place to another. She was ready to pass out, like many of the teenagers had done as soon as the sun began to set. It was only her and a few others left, those with nothing better to do, and something to prove to themselves. Her brother had disappeared, too. He had pissed on someone earlier for stopping his work because he needed water, but she didn't at all want to comment on that. Blake did a lap of the perimeter every hour or so, just to make sure no one was killing each other, or ruining the work done. He and Amber make eye contact a few times, it was hard to say how they sat with each other. She, as she was from the very beginning, was unenthusiastic to let him boss her around. And he, as he felt from the very beginning, felt no reason to befriend her. But, nonetheless, things had changed. Even if he felt no reason, and even if she was unenthusiastic, she had saved his life, he had kept her warm, she had taken a life so he didn't have to, and he now looked at her with a face she hated because she couldn't understand it.

As if on cue, Bellamy Blake had strolled out of the dropship and crossed his arms.

"Alright, gather round!" He called out to the remaining wall builders, who all, including Amber, did as he said. They met him at the drop ship door, all thirteen of them. "Great job today guys, rest up, you deserve it." He gave a toothless smile as his eyes scanned the small group, finally resting on Amber, who shifted underneath his gaze. It made her fidget. It made her conscious of every breath she took. When the group broke apart as every teenager scrambled to their beds, Blake's eye contact with her broke also, and she relaxed, but she didn't move, and neither did he.

They didn't speak, Amber just gave a simple, and surprisingly sincere, half smile, before she turned around to walk around the other side of the drop ship to pick up her grey tshirt she had shed off earlier. Once she had it in her hands, she turned to see if Blake was still standing there. But he wasn't. And in that moment her eyes landed on the empty space in front of the drop ship opening, she had finally felt a feeling that was familiar to her. It was disappointment.

Her body was tired. But her brain happened to be wide awake. Another nightmare, that same one, it comes less frequently now, but when it's not that one, it's another. She had to use her mind, she craved stimulation more than food or water which she had disused neglectfully while on the ground. She mindlessly used her body all day, thinking of nothing at all in particular, the ratio was off. Now, she had so much mental drive left over, so many things she seemed to want to think about. She needed something rousing, something that would make her think. Amber wandered outside the walls of the camp, letting her craving chose her path, not caring if she was speared by a grounder in that moment, she walked to a row of three trees that sat side by side in the dark of the night. Pulling the knife from her pocket, she saw a slight depression in the center of the central tree, that was her target. She carefully aimed the cold metal knife in her hand and threw it hard. Bullseye. Amber smiled, feeling satisfied but wanting more. She walked to her target and pulled her weapon out with ease, she thought for a moment before hastily carving an X into the same spot where her knife penetrated into earlier. She stepped to her left, dragging her feet towards the next tree, bending her knees she carved another X into the tree at the level that lined up with the top of her hip bone. Once the carving was complete, she took long strides to the tree on the other side of the middle one, and in similar fashion, she jumped up onto her tip toes, and reached up to engrave an X a couple feet above her head, where an average sized man's forehead would align to. Once complete, she walked backwards, eyeing her work carefully.

She had one knife, but she needed more. She knew where her brother kept his old knives, so she silently ran to get them. When she returned with two knifes, both made from dropship metal and with 'J.M' carved into them, she wasted no time in beginning her activity. She began with the center target, holding one knife in her right hand and two in her left, she threw the one in the right straight into the middle target, perfectly. With a blink, she had one of the knives from her left hand into her right and threw it with precision into the left target. Then the remaining knife landing right into the final target. She retrieved the knives and did it all again, and again, and again, changing the order, the pace and how many knives thrown at a time as she continued, hitting bullseye close to every time.

Bellamy woke dazedly, unsure of the time or the reason as to why he was awake. He looked around at his makeshift tent that he shared with no one but himself before closing his eyes, trying to get back to sleep, but there was no point. He was wide awake, so he decided he'd take a walk to make sure no one's getting up to no good. Bellamy remembered Wells was on watch that night, so if something bad was happening, Wells was exasperating enough to yell and wake everyone up about it. So even though that hadn't happened yet, Bellamy decided he'd take the walk anyway. Pulling his arms through his jacket once he got outside, he noticed the silence in the camp. Those who were lucky enough to score fabric for tents were sleeping in them, and the dozens of others resorted to sleeping in the dropship.

He walked around inattentively, picking up stray weapons and water canteens as he went along, putting them in their places soon after. He made it to the firepit, that glowed dimly against the navy blue of its surroundings. He took a long stick off the ground and poked at it, waking the embers up as if they were sleeping. He sat on the closest log, proceeding to poke at the fire, giving him something to do in his boredom. As he tossed and turned at the charcoals, he heard a noise outside the wall behind him. It was the smallest of grumbles and it was clear to him that it was a woman who made it. The grumble was accompanied by a small noise, like something hitting wood. Then, the noise again, and another. There was one grumble, three noises, then footsteps. Bellamy clutched the gun tucked into his hip and pulled it out, holding it in front of him as he made way past the walls of the camp, following the direction he heard the noise from. He was light on his feet and his finger was light on the trigger, but ready to shoot a grounder at any moment. As he got closer, his eyes fell on a shadowy figure between the trees, in the hand of the figure, there was a glint of light that blinded him, a reflection from the full moon, she was holding a knife. Bellamy crept closer, his gun still in hand, he was unable to make out her appearance, it was too dark, but he wouldn't be surprised if the grounders had planted one of their own to go in during the night to kill. This grounder was foolish for giving away her position too easily, all it took was one shot and she'd be dead. But, Bellamy thought, he could take her in for questioning. He decided he wouldn't kill her, he'd capture her. He was only a few feet away now, hiding behind a tree, he heard her shift on her feet telling her exact position to Bellamy, with a swift movement, he had her in a headlock. She gasped at the sudden attack, but she fought back. Bellamy was breathless when a hard knock to his ribs pushed him back, and a punch to the stomach soon after. As he regained his footing, he saw the shadow figure's knife dive towards his head, he was quick to grab her arm and twist it, dropping the knife onto the floor. She kicked his shin in response, hoping he'd let go, but he didn't. He punched her in the face and she heard her spit as she fell back, however she didn't give up. She charged forwards, taking him by surprise, punching Bellamy in the jaw, and then tackling him to the ground. Her knees landed on his wrists, forcing them down. For a figure so small she was strong, and if he were to give up he was certain she'd kill him, watching as she reached for the knife she dropped earlier. In the dark it was impossible to see the clothes she was wearing nor the look on her face, he arched his back and pulled his wrists up once she was truly distracted by the blade she was reaching for, maneuvering his body so he was then on top of her. She gasped, as she felt his heavy body push the air out of her lungs. His hands grabbed her wrists, one of her hands holding the knife, forcing them to the ground as she had done to him. He hesitated, thinking of his next move.

"What are you waiting for?" She whispered, taunting him. But then it hit Bellamy. He recognized the voice. She was no grounder, she was Amber.

"Oh my god." He whispered, pushing himself off her.

"Bellamy?" Amber screeched, her voice raised, she crawled back and finally her eyes adjusted, her attacker was Bellamy.

"Amber I'm— sorry. I thought you were a grounder." He explained, not believing his own self. She stood from where she was lying, and he could recognize her now. The small frame, the great strength, the intimidating stare.

"Yeah and I thought you were one too, for fuck sakes Blake I could have killed you." She threw her hands up as she spoke, wiping the blood from her mouth, and suddenly Bellamy felt guilty, but also angry.

"Are you serious? I could have killed you!" He pointed at her, and suddenly they were arguing like children.

"I think we both know who would have won that fight, you're just lucky you recognized me when you did!"

"I was two seconds away from grabbing the knife and slicing your throat Amber don't think I wasn't prepared to do it!" He pointed to the knife in her hand, and she exhaled sharply, almost to laugh.

"I would never go down without a fight Blake, I would have had that knife in your chest before you could even say that you were sorry! I'll prove it to you right now if you really want me to!"

"You are so fucking stubborn Amber, what the hell were you doing out here at this time anyway?!" He half-yelled, remembering the whole camp was sleeping.

"I could ask you the same thing." She replied childishly, crossing her arms. Bellamy looked up at the few trees that were lit up by the moonlight, they all had crosses etched into them at different levels, they were targets.

"You were target practicing." He gestured to the trees, and Amber's lips pursed in resentment.

"Great detective work Blake, you got me. Now why are you attacking me—" She pressed a hand to her heart, "—an innocent young woman, outside the walls here in the middle of the night?"

"Couldn't sleep." He said honestly.

"Huh, that makes two of us." She mumbled, looking to the ground, thinking of her nightmare and shifting on her feet.

"You any good?" Blake changed the subject back to the targets on the trees.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" She scoffed, knowing he already knew the answer. And he laughed. Bellamy Blake laughed. Something in her lit up.

"Show me, then." He ordered with a serious face, crossing his arms. She took a double take, unsure of his genuineness, but when he didn't speak again, she nodded. Two of the knives still protruded from the targets, she walked up to them, conscious of every move she made, knowing that Bellamy Blake was studying every inch of her body, and pulled them out. Like she had done before, two knives in one hand, one in the other. She walked back to where Blake stood, giving him a fake unenthusiastic smile on the way, and stopped in front of him. Turning around, her fake smile disappeared, it was time to concentrate. First, she decided on the pattern she'd take, second, she decided how much strength it would take to complete such a task, and third, she stopped thinking. Never looking back at her spectator, she threw one knife from the hand of two directly into the center of the middle target. Giving herself no time in between, she immediately lifted her two hands with one knife in each, bending her arms and swinging them past her ears, she darted them both at the same time perfectly into the outer targets. She felt Blake exhale behind her, he was taken aback. Her display lasted no longer than 5 seconds, but for her when she threw those knives everything moved slowly. And, as she turned to face Bellamy, everything was still moving in slow motion. They were so close, she could feel his breath. It made her feel feverish, but not in a bad way. She could see his face much clearer now, and if she looked close, she could see his skin darken slightly from the punch she had landed earlier. She still tasted blood and speculated how bruised her face would be in the morning. How would she explain that to John? Why was she already planning on lying to him, telling him that she got in a fight with some kid, not Bellamy? She wondered how she looked to Blake, was she just as much of a mess to him as she was to herself? Probably. He wasn't speaking, and neither was she. He just looked at her. She wondered how much time was passing by. What was he thinking? Why was she thinking about the mystery of what he was thinking about? Why did she care so much? Why didn't she want to move away? Her eyes glanced around his face, and suddenly his face shifted. His brows furrowed, and he looked almost...concerned. She suddenly grew self-conscious.

"Your lips bleeding." He whispered quietly, and watched as her brows grew closer, and her hand came flying up to her face to touch her lip. She looked down at her finger, where a small circle of dark liquid stained it. He had split her lip when he punched her, that's why she still tasted blood. Bellamy felt guilty, not because he thought she couldn't deal with a fight, because she sure well can, but because he should've recognized her in the first place. He knew it was out of his control but he couldn't control the culpability he felt.

"Nothing I can't handle." She wiped her lip with her still bandaged forearm from the day she rescued Octavia. "You should see the other guy." She joked, and Bellamy was the one to then become self-conscious.

"What? Am I bleeding too? Where?" He wiped at his face roughly, but there was no blood.

"No, you're just ugly." She shrugged, and his nostrils flared.

"Do you want me to punch you again because you sure well are acting like it?" He tightened his crossed arms, watching the girl in front of him as she laughed in response.

"I mean, I don't really think you have the balls." She was asking for it, Bellamy thought, she knew how to get under his skin, she was so frustrating.

"You sure about that?" He stepped forward, his arms dropping to his side. She didn't step back, she didn't even flinch, she was expecting it. Their chests were touching now, and Amber studied his every breath carefully anticipating for him to be the first to move. And he, stupidly, was. He raised his arm, but she grabbed it before he could bring it up, he wasn't going to punch her, she could tell by the angle, he was going to push her back, so in response, she was the one who pushed him back instead. But he grabbed her other arm and brought her along with him. He stumbled back but regained his footing, however Amber did not, she came crashing into his chest and instinctively wrapped her free arm around his back to catch herself. Oh god, she thought, she was practically embracing him. She immediately pushed herself away, goosebumps littering her skin. She only just realized how cold the night had been.

"How about we not brawl again tonight? You've got to lead the kids in the morning and I've got to— exist, I guess. As much as I enjoy punching you in the face, it'd be in our best interest." Amber couldn't make eye contact in her, she felt like she was rambling, she wanted to punch herself more than anyone. She looked up once, and he looked…disappointed.

"I'm sorry, again. For thinking you were a grounder." He was sincere, it made Amber uncomfortable.

"Blake, apologizing so much doesn't suit you at all. Please stop before I begin thinking you're any less than an asshole."

Sorry this chapter jumps around a little bit, just felt like chucking in some development for Amber and Bellamy. I hope don't mind all the confusion coming from Amber, please keep in mind she only really knew her brother for her whole life, she was never prepared to interact with other people, or deal with the rollercoaster that is Bellamy Blake. Also, thanks for the feedback! Keep it coming 3

- EG