Raven's POV

Bringing someone else onto the 'Raven Reyes Builds a Rocket Project' had never been her intention.

When she had first started her little game of building a miniature rocket it had been for shits and giggles. She was smart. Had always been the top of her class in maths and sciences, had even won a chemistry competition her sophomore year. But she thought for sure that her book knowledge would not translate to practical knowledge all too well. The first time she fixes her neighbour's car she's blown away by the ease of the project. Then two months later she fixes the singular air conditioning unit. It had been spitting out only lukewarm air into the living room. She managed to rig it to blow out the coldest air she'd experienced since winter.

After that she was tinkering with everything. Sure, the toaster went up in flames and yes, there was a mild explosion when she had been fooling around in the junkyard, but at the same time Raven Reyes learned how goddamn brilliant she was.

So when she first starts building a rocket in her bedroom she doesn't actually expect the project to go anywhere. But then it does. First she ends up with a skeletal base and the start of a shock cord, next is the formation of a launch lug. For the first time in her entire life it feels like there is no limit, that she can actually do this. And if she can do this, well then maybe she can do anything.

Okay, maybe it was a stupid thing to do. What was a small rocket really going accomplish for her? The satisfaction made it feel worth it. Her confidence had taken its fair share of hits over the years. She was ready for something to make her believe in herself again. The day she completes the fixed engine mount is the day that she realises she's accomplishing this on her own. And in accomplishing something alone Raven also realises that there is no one to be excited with her when she did something well. It wasn't like Octavia would really care if Raven called her up and bragged about her scientific achievements.

The loneliness of success was not something she was used to.

Her room wasn't nearly big enough to hold the rocket and allow her room to move. After all, her room was barely big enough for her bed and herself, so she was forced to hunt down another location to keep it. Outside hadn't been an option but there had been a brief period where she'd considered hanging some sort of tent contraption to keep it dry. The abandoned sixth floor of the hospital was too perfect not to make use of though. And the few times that she'd had the potential of getting caught up there, someone was doing something equally against the rules. It was a game of: I won't tell if you don't. Thankfully it worked for her.

But after she'd completed the nosecone payload and the recovery wadding, she hit a stalemate when it came to the removable solid rocket engine. She'd tried a few different things, some of which probably had the potential to blow her and the hospital up, but had yet to get the response she was looking for.

So after Wick said he was an engineer it had set the wheels in motion in her head. She didn't necessarily want his help but she hadn't spent all this time working for nothing to come to fruition. Maybe it was the desperation to finish this project and maybe a small piece of her wanted to share the finished project with someone. It didn't necessarily matter who.

And that was how this dork of a guy who seriously needed a haircut and a razor ended up being recruited into the Raven Reyes rocket club. Mostly he was a pain in the ass, but she truly was desperate and he was there.

She quickly learned he was the type of worker who talked to himself and yet still expected her to know when he'd switched from a one person conversation to two. She shot down his first two ideas before they'd even been fully stated and he was irritated with her pessimism.

"If you would just let me try alternating the indicators then maybe it would work." He would argue, lying on the ground, twisted like a pretzel in his attempt to get a good view.

"No," was all the answer she offered. "That's a terrible idea, Wick."

After about an hour both of them knew they were probably being missed from their actual posts and the progress being made was minimal anyway. "I'll look at it more when I come back in tonight," Wick says with a sigh as they exit the room. They pause to take in the view from outside the hospital. The sun was rising, announcing another day to come along with it. Despite how much she hated the all night shifts sometimes, this part was always rewarding.

Stepping closer to the window, she stares out at the ground beneath them, covered in frost from the freezing air that had fallen over the city during the night. "Not a bad sight," he says from behind Raven. She almost falls in her surprise as she turns to face him. Her good foot grounds her before she can topple over. Despite the injury being several months old, she had yet to fully adjust.

"I've seen better," she says with a shrug, walking away and pressing the button for the elevators.

Wick snorts in response but follows after her. "You sure are a fun one, aren't you?" he mutters as they step into the elevator.

"Hm," she muses, watching the numbers descend to one. "Seems like you have the fun thing under control for the both of us."

"Life's too short not to, Reyes," he whispers, a little closer to her ear than she had expected. The shivers that crawl through her body are undoubtedly due to his unexpected proximity. It had been a while since she'd had close contact such as this.

The doors slide open and she doesn't say anything in response. In fact, she doesn't even turn to look back at him as she walks out, only knowing he's gone from the sound of the doors shutting once again.

Home was a term that Raven used loosely. She kept busy enough that she was hardly ever there, a few hours of sleep here or there, maybe the occasional meal, that was more than enough for her.

When she was younger Finn's place had been her sanctuary. Just thirty seven footsteps south and then hang a right, twelve steps that way, and one more right to the third trailer on the left. It wasn't that his actual home was any better necessarily, but there was food and jokes and the television playing quietly in the background. As they grew apart her visits dwindled. She had yet to go back there since the accident. She didn't even know if there was anything left.

Sometimes that meant that she made do with what she had. If sleep wasn't of such necessity Raven thought she might be able to go days at a time without ever stepping foot through the front door.

Unfortunately she does need sleep, and after almost 36 hours without it, she's grateful that she has anywhere to go at all. She'd considered sleeping in her secret office at the hospital but the whole, abandoned mental institution freaked even her out.

After getting off from her overnight at the hospital Raven had gone to her other job at the local grocery store, carrying out another twelve hour shift before finally finishing for the day. Morning would call her back to work once again, but for the next few hours she could finally sleep.

She's as quiet as possible, sliding her key into the lock and pulling the armload of grocery bags in behind her. It's dark, no lights or sounds coming from any direction. Raven doesn't know if anyone else is home, nor does she attempt to discern one way or the other.

Tiptoeing to the kitchen she doesn't bother turning on the light, working to stock the empty shelves and fridge in near silence. She takes one look at the bottom of the fridge, littered with a variety of liquor bottles, and is tempted to dump out each and every one. But common sense gets the better of her and she moves them to the side instead, out of the way of the food.

No part of her has the energy to shower, so she simply works to strip off her shirt and bra before plopping herself onto bed and beginning to work on removing her brace. Though the sensation was extremely dull around her knee and down her leg, she can still feel the slight sting of painful chafing that has occurred. It was a relief to pull it off each night, though she hated the useless way her leg laid there when it wasn't on. There was always that knowledge that if this trailer went up in flames she would be unable to get away lingering in the back of her mind.

Using her remaining good leg and a fair bit of practise, thank goodness she was flexible, she pulls off her jeans and toss them to a corner of her room. It was too hard to navigate once her brace was off. She doesn't bother with pyjama bottoms, just more effort before going to sleep and when waking up tomorrow morning. So she simply works her way beneath the blankets and manoeuvres into a comfortable position, unbelievably appreciative for the chance of some solid sleep.

Her mind reels before falling asleep so it's no surprise when she dreams. The surprise rests in who she dreams about. Finn used to be the only one who represented anything good in her sleep. The new appearance isn't one she minds.

Morning comes by the sound of a blaring alarm and darkness still swallowing her room. She navigates to the bathroom using her crutches, somehow, and showers briefly. So many of her friends complained about work and school and their lack of free time as they got older. Jasper and Monty especially, always whining about not having enough time for the newest Assassin's Creed. Raven found that without these things, however, there was little else to do. So though she was exhausted and freezing, both from the water of the shower that never quite got hot and the cool air that always snuck in through the night, she was still glad to wake up and have somewhere to go.

When her knee had first been injured she'd woken up in the hospital completely distraught, worried she would never be able to do anything for herself again. All she saw in the life ahead of her was needing the help of others, being fully dependent on Finn regardless of what either of them ever wanted. Abby had been her saving grace and had promised her that not only would she be able to walk again, she would be able to sustain her livelihood without the help of anyone else.

So that was what she did. It was terrible sometimes, and never did she feel like she was properly rested, but she was able to do it. After what had happened, that was all she cared about.

She freezes on her way to work, her wet hair making the process even worse as she wraps her jacket tighter around herself. She's the first one there, as usual, and she lets herself in. Though technically not within her job description, the morning manager had made her a key to open the store since she was there so early. Raven held out hope that they would promote her to assistant manager soon. The pay raise might not be that great, but it was benefitted and a dollar more an hour was twelve dollars more a day. She wasn't going to argue.

She's early enough that she can put her own music on to play throughout the store as she finishes running the returns that hadn't been completed last night. She sings along to the each song that pours through the speakers overhead, unashamed as she makes her way slowly up and down each aisle. Sometimes she tried to pretend that she's working another job, doing what she actually loves. It'd be a dream to sing like an idiot in a garage instead of up and down grocery store aisles. But whatever, she'll take what she can get.

As the day carries on Raven does her best to stay focused on her job, swiping things across a scanner can only remain intellectually stimulating for so long however. Instead she schemes on new plans for the rocket, there had to be something she was missing when it came to that engine. (If anyone asked her then there was absolutely no way that she looked up at each customer hopefully, wondering if maybe it might be him again. Not that she even wanted it to be, just might help pass the time to take the piss out of someone).

Bellamy shows up unannounced for her lunch break, food in hand and discussion all planned out as he launches into a diatribe about Clarke and how she's so annoying and they're fighting again over something as equally ridiculous as the first time.

Raven doesn't dare complain. She hadn't packed a lunch and if Bellamy hadn't somehow magically sensed that she probably would have just gone without food until getting home at seven tomorrow morning.

After twenty minutes of ranting, (leaving off with, "But I mean, she isn't always that bad. I guess I'm glad she's around") he looks up from his food to stare at Raven for a minute. "So how have you been?"

She shrugs, poking at her mu shu pork. "Pretty standard I guess." Bellamy was good at sharing, or occasionally monopolizing the conversation, she liked that about him. It meant questions like these were rare. Which was good, she never had an answer to offer.

"Your leg?" he asks, gesturing to her stretched out left knee. The lack of motion she had was annoying, but the ability to walk was not one she would complain about.

"Still here," she answers, annoyed with her own vague answers. "I made a friend at work." She volunteers this information even though it's not really true, he was more so a colleague who'd been stupid enough to respond to her request. But it was insignificant. It wasn't about her leg or her health or her family. She could handle talking about the stupid blond guy at work.

The statement gets Bellamy's attention, probably because she didn't tend to share much. "Go on," he says with a gesture of his plastic fork.

"His name is Wick-"

"Wick?" he interrupts. "That's not a name."

"Bellamy?" she retorts. "Don't remember seeing that on the top 100 list this year either." He grumbles something about "well at least I'm not named after a part of a candle, " but doesn't argue further. "I think that's his last name anyway…"

Now he just laughs at her. "You don't even know your friend's first name?"

"It's new and fragile," she says with an eye roll. "Just like your manhood."

He flicks a noodle out of his container at her and Raven stares in wide eyed shock as the cold, moist noodle lands among her hair. "Don't insult my manhood."

She plucks the noodle from her hair and considers flicking it right back at him. "Well thanks for the visual representation of it," she says instead dropping it on the box they were eating off in disgust.

"I hate you," he mumbles around his next bite.

"Ditto," she says with a charming smile, happy that she had someone around to tease. The rest of her day felt a little bit lighter.