Octavia carefully scrutinized the various animal furs scattered across the floor and the group of five teenagers staring at her with a mixture of something that was akin to awe and fear

Awe and fear of her.

She didn't exactly mind or blame them. She was dressed like a Grounder in tanned and dyed animal skins and she carried always a sword on her back and knives at her hip and boot. She was Octavia Blake. Formerly of the Tree People. Formerly of The Sky People. Formerly of The Girl Who Lived Under The Floor. And of course - Current Grounder Pounder. The last one made her secretly smile, not that she would never admit that to any of them. And god forbid if anyone said it in front of Lincoln. The "pounder" part of that nickname would definitely take on a whole new meaning if anyone dared utter the slur in his hearing.

Lincoln was out in the woods somewhere with Abby gathering medicinal herbs to dry and store for the upcoming winter. He was as fascinated with Abby and their modern technological advances in medicine as she was with him and his skills as a healer and his vast knowledge of the native plants. An unlikely mutual respect and friendship had blossomed between the two. It was adorable. She had said that to him one day and he had merely furrowed his brow at her in that way he did whenever she said something that he found confusing. Which was often.

Octavia saw in this how much he truly loved being a healer. He was a healer first and a warrior second but so few people outside of herself were privy to this other, gentler side of his nature. It became more prevalent as he adjusted to life in the camp and she saw that having this renewed purpose here amongst her people was also beginning to heal him from the horrors of the last few months.

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since they marched back from the mountain with the wounded and traumatized.

Absentmindedly she monitored the group as they slowly and carefully stitched the furs into blankets and cloaks for the upcoming winter. None of them really had any idea what to expect. The kind of cold that Lincoln described was a foreign concept to a people raised on a climate controlled metal heap in outer space. How cold can it get? Did she even really want to find out? Already the nights chilled her to the bone and it would only get worse? Ugh.

Naturally she was tasked with this duty. Her mother had been a seamstress and she had grown up learning to sew at her side. Not much else for her to do in their tiny flat when Bellamy was away.

Bellamy.

She had forgotten one title:

Sister To Man Who Is Currently Trying To Literally Kill Himself Through Sheer Effort.

She watched her brother moving tirelessly across the camp raising giant logs into place to make up the new perimeter of their camp. It was slow and grueling work. He was always working it seemed, forgetting to eat. To rest. Did he even sleep? For the first time in her short life she was the one taking care of him. She brought him food and water regularly because otherwise it seemed like he would just happily starve himself. Work his fingers to the bone until his body shut down and collapsed in on itself like a dying star.

Maybe that's what he wanted.

She shivered involuntarily at her dark thoughts. If her brother was anything - it was a survivor first and foremost. They all were.

"Your stitches are looking great. Keep at it."

Without another word she got up and began walking towards the "kitchens" for their daily lunch allotment. Some days it was quite good. Some days there was barely enough for a child to feel full on much less people who were constantly active, constantly working. Constantly hungry. Today was one of the decent times. She smiled at the older woman who handed her two plates, not even needing to ask her if she would be taking Bellamy his share that day. She began to walk across the camp to where her brother hadn't yet bothered to stop working or look around much to the annoyance of the team who worked with him and certainly did notice and smell the food.

Midday already and after a quick lunch there would be combat training and changing of the guard. A constant flurry of activity and preparation. A group would sweep the perimeter outside the fence several times a day checking for unseen signs of danger that may lurk in the dark woods outside of their illusion of safety.

It was crazy how things at camp had simply fallen back into a normal rhythm. She had thought it impossible after what they had been through. How could they wake up and go through the menial tasks of just living?

But here they were, going on with life in the best ways they knew how.

In truth, she hated it here. Hated the camp. The ugliness of the earth downtrodden by thousands of footsteps. The giant hulking metal ship. Hated the constant presence of other bodies always milling about. The stares and whispers. The rumours. The constant buzz of voices. Hated the disconnect she felt from the majority of these people. Her people. But they weren't, not really. She wasn't even meant to exist after all.

And now Bellamy was part of the council that he had vehemently hated with every fiber of his being. It had been a natural step for him and the right one considering their circumstance.

But she just wanted to take Lincoln and go. They could survive in the woods just fine. But he was needed here. And she couldn't abandon Bellamy. So she stayed.

For now.

She stopped in front of her brother, waiting for him to acknowledge her. He had this distant look in his eyes sometimes. Like he was staring right through you, never actually seeing the person in front of him.

"Hey big brother." She smiled at him and finally his eyes focused on her face and smiled back.

"Hey little sis." He glanced at the plates of food in her hands. "Looks good."

They moved to a relatively quiet spot and sat down on the ground together. Octavia silently passed him a canteen of water and his plate of food. Roasted meat of some sort and a type of purple root that had a pleasantly sweet, earthy flavour.

They ate in a comfortable silence. No one joined them today.

For the millionth time she tried to think of a way to start up a conversation with him. To enter his thoughts. To tell him about the worries that plagued her every waking moment. About her fears for their future. But something always stopped her. Some haunted look in his eyes made her feel like she would be treading in a place not welcome. They had always been everything to each other. He was the big brother who had taken care of her better then her real father (whoever that was) ever could. He had instilled in her his own love of mythology and history. Of the great ancient civilizations that had ruled long-dead kingdoms. Read her stories. Played with her. They could talk to each other about anything but that was no longer the case.

And like most days Bellamy had wolfed down his food like a starving man. Too fast for her to collect her thoughts and open her mouth to breach any real topic with him. So she remained silent yet again.

"Are you on outside sweep after this?" he asked.

"Yes. Team of six. It's been quiet. We're also on track tanning furs and making blankets. I've organized the oldest and youngest to do this like you asked."

He nodded. "Good. We need to take inventory of what supplies we have. Can you do that by the end of tomorrow?"

"I think so. I hope..."

She trailed off and looked away. No sense in adding to his burdens.

"That it will be enough?" He finished for her.

"Yes."

"So do I. There's still talk within the council of moving into the mountain for the winter."

She swallowed a hard lump in her throat. Of course she knew. They all did. Currently the only thing holding them at an impasse was Bellamy, Kane, and some guy who's name she hadn't bothered to learn yet. And Abby who broke the vote in favour of a hard no. But still the talk was relentless. Whispers everywhere. The camp was split between the people who wanted to go and those of them who would rather die then ever go near that place again.

Teams had been quietly sent back to the mountain to salvage supplies and food stuffs. What, if anything, had been done with the several hundred corpses, she didn't know and had no intention of asking. As far as she was concerned the mountain didn't exist. She hated handling the salvaged things from that place. Hated the way those from the Ark who hadn't been inside of it oohed and ahhhed over new clothes and trinkets. And she knew it would kill Bellamy to go back. That his tenuous hold on reality would snap.

She still didn't know the full story but Monty had filled her in on enough.

She looked up at him and smirked. "Yeah no thanks. It won't come to that. We'll be ready."

He nodded again.

"Is Lincoln on your team?"

"No he's out gathering herbs with Abby."

Bellamy scowled at this. "I don't want you outside of this fence without him to protect you."

She wanted to be angry at annoyed at his words. She wanted to pout and storm off like she would have done just a few weeks ago. But in truth she felt only a rush of pride and love that Bellamy trusted Lincoln that much to guard her life.

Actual tears welled up in her eyes and she spontaneously hugged her surprised brother. "Bell it's midday. Nothing's out there. Nowhere to hide. And Miller and his dad are on my team. I'm going to be fine and yes I will bring a damn gun so don't remind me."

He smiled at her in that familiar sarcastic way of his and gently squeezed her shoulders. It was a smile from the old Bellamy. Before the mountain had done a number on him.

"Just because I trust Lincoln with your life doesn't mean I'm ever going to stop worrying. Or that you'll ever stop being my baby sister." He said the words lightly but she knew they weren't. And for the millionth time she felt grateful to have him.

But then a memory of Tondc flooded her mind and she pulled away. Of fire and smoke. Of the smell of burnt flesh. A dead nameless child with open eyes staring at nothing.

He still didn't know. She still struggled with knowing if telling him was the right move.

In truth, much of his current state was fueled by Clarke's leaving. And she knew it took every ounce of strength he possessed to not leave the camp in search of her.

In so many ways he needed Clarke and felt lost without her. What it all meant Octavia hadn't figured out yet. There were so many things to figure out these days that focusing on any one thing was impossible.

Octavia's anger and hatred of Clarke had mellowed to a dull confusing ache but she knew she would never forgive her for not warning them about that missile.

Whether that was fair or not was something she couldn't decide yet either.

In so many ways, life under the floor boards had been easier. She got up, gathered the empty plates and said goodbye to her brother. Their break was over. She would go outside the fence and patrol. Bellamy would go back to punishing his body with hard labour as a path to redemption.

One more day on the ground.