AN: Well, the last chapter flopped obviously... I'm REALLY hopeful this chapter goes over better. Please read and review!

Chapter 16 – The Other Side

Polis, 62 days till the end

"It hasn't even been 12hrs yet,"

Wary though she was, Octavia's pronouncement was flat. Stoic.

"Like she'd every ignore the radio!" bellowed her brother.

The crackles of the radio illustrated the distance between them.

"She radioed a half-hour's walk from the gates. Everything was fine. She probably crashed. Just like you did."

Octavia's retort was swift. It was also just as swiftly ignored.

"She's alone, and we can't trust Arkadia"! Bellamy yelled into the radio.

"She's got Caliban, his second, and Charlotte. They're loyal. She's not alone," "And what, you suddenly trust Arkadia?" demanded Bellamy.

The silence stretched. Octavia grit her jaw. "I'll deal with it," she snarled finally.

"What?" O? What are you-" She ignored him, and set down the radio.

Lexa's face was a mask. Listening without a word, she'd taken in the call from Mount Weather.

"He's gonna go if I don't," Octavia spat.

Still, Lexa's face was motionless. The implied threat simmered in the air. "If it was Azgeda-" began the commander.

"I know," Octavia snapped.

"It will be ten days before we can march, if I raised the signal fire tonight," Lexa outlined anyway.

"Which you're not gonna do," hissed Octavia.

"The chosen must be protected. If I recalled my armies, the chosen would be abandoned on the roads far away,"

"We could fill the bunker from the city," Octavia grunted.

"Deal with Arkadia. They may be holding her. If she is not there, I will prepare my army. Once the chosen are inside," Lexa declared.

"Nia could kill her a dozen times over by then,"

"If Nia wants her dead, Clarke could be 12hrs dead by now,"

"Not with a show. Nia doesn't strike me as the discrete type. She wanted you dead in the square with all of Polis watching. Wanheda calls for at least as much theatrics. Kill Wanheda, take her power. What else could Nia want with her?"

Though she turned away, Octavia saw the moment that Lexa's face wavered. But the Skaikru girl also saw it would change nothing. Octavia sneered at the commander's turned cheek, and raised the radio to her lips again.

"O?" Bellamy answered frantically.

"Bring me the rover."

Mount Weather, 61 days till the end

The door thudded shut behind him. A quiet click and beep as the locks engaged. Miller stared blindly straight ahead towards the kitchen. The living area he stood in held no trace of them except a thin, dark blue shirt half-way under one of the sofas. To his left, the two smaller bedrooms and bathroom. To his right, the master suite. All empty. All silent. Kicking off his boots, Nathan threw himself down onto the sofa where he'd been sleeping. The master bed was too big on his own. He'd been waiting for Clarke and Charlotte to get back. Now... He knew his orders. On Earth, to Skaikru and the others who followed her, Clarke's word was law. She was the princess they'd chosen. And she'd told him, Stay. Run things in her absence. She was only supposed to be gone a few days. But Miller didn't sleep beside the princess at night. He didn't keep warm tucked in beside Wanheda. She wasn't just their leader. In the wide blue eyes when he joked around, in the arms that always welcomed him, in the comfort that scooted closer when Earth was too big... In these ways, he knew Clarke couldn't ever be just another leader. And Charlotte... damn. It'd been weeks, or longer, since Miller had been thinking about orders when it came to watching her back. The pint size blonde might snarl like a big dog backed in a corner, but she was still their youngest. She was a kid, and she was theirs, and he didn't need orders to tell him that. Clarke's word was law, and Miller obeyed. He'd lay here like a coward while they died far away in a frozen wasteland because that was her orders. Here she'd left him, here he'd stay. Like a good soldier. Damn her.

Arkadia, 60 days till the end

"She's not here," Bellamy finally admitted. Two days of searching the camp under the thin guise of visiting had been pointless. Nobody had seen Clarke, or nobody would admit to. With the resident's voices muted, and eyes lowered, Arkadia was a tense place these days. Yet Pike was stalking about like a king. Louder and more than any sky-born man with sense ought to be in a new environment. Behind the walls of Arkadia, Pike's courage was running at an all-time high. Abby was pissed not just about Jackson being stolen away, but also the matter of an alleged kidnapping which Bellamy was ardently denying even happened. Octavia was ignoring both. Knowing him far better than he knew her, it was obvious Marcus was on edge. He was a man quite aware that he was dancing on thin ice in every situation he found himself in. Theolonious was occupied in deflecting Pike's growing popularity. It at least was keeping the former chancellor busy. Even the few sullen Arkadians who'd hinted, in whispered tones, of a veiled interest in abandoning their home had not revealed anything useful.

"Doesn't mean she wasn't," Octavia reminded.

"Her mom..." Bellamy shook his head. "Clarke never made it to the gates. Or Abby would know."

Truth was, Octavia had been certain of that before they even hit Arkadia's walls. Ever since they spotted the scenes of an attack in the woods. The butchered horses, the smashed radio, the black blood, and the red, frozen in the thin layers of snow. It wasn't Arkadia's style. Their having the brains to stage an Azgeda attack made even less sense, no matter what she'd told Bellamy. In order to prevent her fool of a brother from heading straight towards the ice nation alone, Octavia had dragged him into Arkadia despite this. She'd radioed Lexa then, and the commander had taken the news quietly. But the chosen hadn't even started arriving yet then. The Arkadian top brass was definitely hiding something, but Octavia was relatively certain it had nothing to do with Clarke. There was the halted reconstruction efforts on the station, but that too did not seem to be the cause of the secretive tension. From her memories, Octavia knew all too well that the station could only support a hundred lives long-term. Same as their number of spots in a much larger sanctuary. This wasn't the secret that made Abby stutter then go on the defensive, thought Octavia. There was something else. Waiting in the woods, Lexa's warriors lingered in impatience for Arkadia's chosen hundred.

Octavia stretched, one long leg extended impossibly far as she bent side-ways. Then the other, and she continued, ignoring her brother's huff.

"We'll leave at first light, but I've got one last objective here-"

"What?" cut in Bellamy.

"Then I'm dropping you at the mountain, and keeping the rover." continued Octavia grimly.

"We've got to rescue her,"

"You tried that, before. Left your post at Mount Weather. You were with her when the news came. The bunker was blown up. Totally destroyed. Nearly fifty people dead. She didn't need rescuing. Was still working for us. Sent you away, and you went, angry."

"This isn't the same thing! You saw those horses. You saw that blood! She didn't go willingly!" he pleaded.

For the third night, Octavia crept on silent feet. The metal of the station had been an adjustment that first night, but by now she made no more noise than a ghost would. On the double mattress of the on-call room's bed, her brother slept far too soundly. Trusting the keypad lock to keep him safe. By now, he ought to know better than to trust anything so greatly as to sink this deeply unaware. There was more than one reason to not share sleeping quarters with him. This was one. The last.

Backwards, Octavia slid from his room, and re-locked it from the outside via keypad. On thin pallets in the gathering hall, most of Arkadia slept. Only a few dozen choose to be outside in leaky tents for the illusion of privacy. Though she maintained a room of her own near the med bay, the last doctor of Arkadia was sleeping in Marcus Kane's private quarters on the other side of the station. By 2am, the station was quiet. By 4am, it was silent. Inside the walls, guards remained on duty throughout the night. Solo, they patrolled through the few rows of tents, along with the interior perimeter of the fence. Inside the station, however, a single guard remained on duty in the gathering hall. Judging by the last two nights, there wouldn't be another patrol of the corridors until after the 7am shift change. Octavia planned to be an hour away, at the very least, by then. Two hours, if things worked out as she meant them to, with a battalion of Lexa's warriors in between Arkadia and herself. There would be no pursuit.

Reaching Pike took scarce minutes. She didn't have to knock. Charles Pike wasn't as paranoid about his access code as he had been in her memories. 0207 The number Farm Station had landed with. He came awake, quiet and quick, in the brief space between the opening of the door, and the closing of it behind her back. Slept lighter than Bellamy. Far lighter. Azgeda was to thank for that, Octavia assumed. She was still faster. Young, and well-trained by Indra, there was no hesitance as she launched herself in time to catch his wrists. Even with his hands pinned down on the narrow bed beneath him, and him on his back beneath her, his bulk should've tipped the odds a bit.

"Blake! What the hell!" he grunted, attempting to shove her off, but only landing a knee into his chest. He choked on the pain, gasping for breathe.

Soaking in his every quaver of pain and shock, Octavia grinned, showing her teeth wolf-like, and dark eyes glinting. Unfortunately for him, he was a man who relied on a gun.

It was under the bed, within reach.

If he could have only reached out for it.

"Charles Pike, you've been sentenced to death," she whispered.

At his snarl, and increasingly frenzied attempts to throw her off, Octavia only tightened her grasp.

She hummed, saccharine sweet, "for the good of humanity, you see?".

He was still sleeping. Octavia sighed. Deep into slumber like this, motionless, with his brow smoothed out and lashes down against his cheek, she couldn't stoke her anger. Hair dark like their mom's, rumpled across his forehead. Hands open limp against the bed... like this, he didn't look like Charles Pike's right hand man. Like a traitorous coward capable of murdering 300 sleeping allies. Relaxed in sleep, he looked more like the brother she'd known on Factory. Octavia cringed at her own thoughts... He didn't even look like the volatile, unpredictable man that she knew he still was. Her weakness, and Clarke's too. He had to kept at arm's length, Octavia reminded herself. She had to keep enough distance to see him clearly. Can't let him do anything stupid, again. Her brother, her responsibility.

"Wake up, big brother," she called out, leaning against the closed door. It took two more tries, increasingly loud, but she stayed at the door. Adrenaline coursed through her veins still. He woke up blearily. Rubbed his face, groaning. "Up. We've got to walk out of here like nothing's wrong. Now," Octavia barked, patience waning. He swung his face up to her, eyes finally opening, confused and sleepy. "Wait- what is wrong?"

Octavia shut the back doors soundly. Bellamy shifted, awkward, keeping his eyes averted from the stiff, pinched visage of Abby Griffin. "Thanks for the help loading up," Octavia drawled.

"You have to find Clarke-" began the doctor, but Octavia shoved Bellamy towards the drivers seat.

"Just to be clear- we're gonna find Clarke because she's one of us. Not anything to do with you," Octavia bit out.

With a last, uncertain glance, Bellamy swung up into the rover and closed his door.

"You? You need to worry about getting the chosen on the move. Now."

Octavia finished breezily, spinning on her heel and heading for the passenger door. Just before she reached it, Marcus made the corner, startled, and freezing, when she slammed to a stop in front of him.

"Octavia," Marcus' voice was grave.

"You heard me. Get your chosen, and get them to Polis," she repeated.

He nodded heavily. "Find Clarke, but-" he stumbled on his words... "but be careful. Please," His dark eyes lingered on her face.

"I'll see you in Polis, right," she pushed.

Kane nodded. "May we meet again," he implored.

Octavia brushed past him to slid into he Rover beside her brother. As soon as she hit the seat, Bellamy cranked it, but Octavia paused with the door half-shut.

"May we meet again, Marcus," she offered grudgingly.

A grin grew on his face, splitting the short, gray streaked beard as she slammed the door shut. Bellamy carefully maneuvered the Rover through Arkadia as fast as he dared. The gates swung open, creaking and slow, at Marcus' command. They'd made it. The moment they heard the clang of metal on metal signifying the closing gates behind them, Bellamy glared back at it.

"Now tell me what the hell happened," he demanded.

"Drive faster," she countered dryly.

He grunted, but levied his foot down heavier, earning a growl from the engine, and an approving nod from the passenger seat.

"Now," he barked.

"Pike's dead. And now you're going to seal up the mountain, and I'm going home to Lincoln." Bellamy's face flushed, but Octavia stared straight ahead after risking the briefest glance back behind them. His grip on the steering wheel tightened till his fingers blanched. Bellamy's jaw was working side to side, but he fixed his gaze ahead too. Sped up again, to as fast as he dared as they neared the treeline, and the narrow, rough path that would lead them through it.

"If you'd been caught-" he bit out.

"I wasn't," she hissed.

"You could've been-" he snarled back, face reddened and his jaw clenched.

"You don't know half the things I've done to clean up other people's messes. I wasn't accident, and that was no accident,"

"Is this why you came? It wasn't for Clarke at all, was it?"

"Not everything is all about Clarke, but I can have more than one reason to do something," Octavia snapped.

The ride to Mt. Weather was damn near silent, the air heavy with all the things they couldn't say. Yet when they made it there, and the Rover's back was unloaded, she stood still long enough to let her brother tentatively enfold her in his arms. When she allowed it, he tightened, so fast, so hard, Octavia wandered if he was planning on letting her go at all. "Seal the mountain, and don't open it, no matter what," she reminded Bellamy when she finally inched out of his grasp.

Driving the Rover to Polis alone, half-way from the mountain, Octavia threw it into park and climbed out. Up onto the hood, to stretch out for a minute. In Polis, Lincoln was waiting for her. Finally she could face him, with the knowledge that the man who'd made him kneel in mud to be murdered was no longer walking the earth. But her back was tight, and the adrenaline crash a few hours ago had left her restless. Arching her back till she heard more than felt a pop of release, she eased back down flat on the hood for another moment's break. Helios would have made the trip better, though longer, but he was safely tucked into the mountain. After finding Clarke's fast little mare... it wasn't worth the risk. Twisting to one side, and the other, Octavia breathed out deeply, and jumped down. Lincoln was waiting on her. No matter what came, at least Pike was dead. No matter what Arkadia did now, she'd never regret making sure of that man's fate. The tyrant wouldn't get another chance at taking away her love. Would never again lead her brother astray. Besides, Charles Pike had told her Arkadia's secret before he died. That would be Lexa's problem, but she didn't need to know that until Clarke was found. One way or the other. The commander didn't need another distraction. It was time for war. In Clarke's absence, Octavia ruled Skaikru, outside the mountain. It was a burden she didn't want around her neck. Octavia's hand reached up to pull the delicate star necklace from beneath her collar. Squeezing it, she swallowed. She wouldn't let Arkadia stand between them and finding Clarke. Even if it took a war to bring her home. "Just stay alive. I'll see you on the other," Octavia muttered before hiding the necklace again. Out of sight beneath her shirt, not even Bellamy knew she'd found it, tangled into the mane of Clarke's slaughtered mare.

Polis, 59 days

"Trikru, Skaikru, and Floukru were already accounted for. Broadleaf, Shallow Valley, the Lake People, Glowing Forest, Rock Line, and the Delphi have all entered the sanctuary. Now we're only waiting on the plains riders, blue cliffs, the desert clan, and Arkadia." explained Gaia.

"And how far out are they?"

"All should arrive within the next two days- we've got runners relaying messages back. Except Arkadia. They have not yet departed their camp."

"With Pike dead," Lexa nodded at Octavia in acknowledgment, "I would have expected their to have been on the road swiftly,"

"We've waited long enough. Recall your men. Arkadia has forfeited their chance,"

"They're angry over Pike's death,"

"Clarke has waited long enough."

"There's been no news-"

"Except for the ice queen gathering her people in Fron Tenac,"

"Enough!" roared the commander. Her hands slammed down onto the table. Lexa raked her glare across the assembled.

"Arkadia has until sunset tomorrow to allow their chosen to begin their journey. Begin preparing the armies. When the bunker is filled in three days time, the march north commences."

"Commander, there is not time-" began Titus.

"Three days. Hurry," snarled Lexa.

56 days

"The army moves out at first light. We've got scouts trailing up half-way to Azgeda already." Octavia announced.

When he replied, Bellamy's voice was stilted. "I should be going,"

"The commander's only letting her army leave because the bunkers will be closed with all the chosen inside. Wick, Raven, Nathan, you do not open under any circumstances!" reminded Octavia harshly.

Their assurances came, letting Octavia's relax and lean back against Lincoln's chest. He had not made a sound since she'd begun this conversation.

"Arkadia's not inside-" reminded Bellamy.

"That's their fault. I don't know what's going on with them."

"They claim they're retrofitting Arkadia to survive alone," reminded Raven's dubious voice.

The mechanic was leaning over Bellamy's shoulder to get close enough to the radio.

"Yea, and I still say there's something else up," spat Octavia.

"But my dad's ok there, right?" cut in Nathan Miller.

"Yea, he's fine, but he's under Skaikru's banner, now. Arkadia's lost their spots. Replaced by four dozen more chickens and another dozen goats."

"Seriously?" asked Raven.

"No joke. Their bunk-rooms are being outfitted as Farm Station outposts." explained Octavia. "

Azgeda's too, but there's two dozen pigs and sheep each there. Monty's losing his mind trying to figure it out," she added.

In the land of ice and snow,

Nothing made sense. Blurry moments, flashes of time, a dark bag over her head being pulled off only for bitter tea, smelling strongly of something that was definitely not just tea, being forced into her mouth... gagging... Vomiting it up, and her chin being jerked up, held by rough hands, and more of the noxious liquid being poured down her throat... being shaken, and slapped...

Cold sinking deeper into her bones than could be real. Like she was dreaming of the wetlands, but she was dry. At least not that sodden, soaked to her skin kind of wet from then. That she was sure of. Most of the time. Her legs were wet. Weren't they? Even mostly dry, she was frozen. Something stank- plaguing her nose. The quiet, miserable cries she wasn't quite sure were her own or Charlotte's... How she ended up in cruel arms, tight grips, she never knew. Then every time she hit hard packed ground, or rough wood floors, she came alive with gasps. Frantic, she was reaching out, and trying to stand, but her wrists and ankles were always bound.

At times, there was Charlotte's cold skin against her own. The sudden shock of pain as the younger girl dropped on top of her... The searing pains injuries protested... ribs aching, her knee burning, a throbbing across her stomach... Yet more jostling on a horse, unable to make her limbs respond, or even her mouth... the jarring ride that reminded her of laying in the back of the rover, but it was slower, choppier. Time was jolting forwards, with days, or weeks passing. She had no way of knowing.

Dim memories of sounds taunted her. Charlotte, crying. Caliban, dying... Yulian's scream when the arrow pierced his skin. The sounds a horse made when terror mixed with mortal wounding, high and terrible. Her head throbbed. Each uneven breathe jarred her skull. Her lips, scabbed and peeling, burned, stretching at her grimace. Smells washed over her. Water trickled sporadically somewhere, and it made her ears twinge in the gloom. Too far away to offer her much illumination, there was a fire, or a torch. Where she didn't know. The surroundings swam dizzily. A concussion, Clarke realized, waking in a damp, dark, freezing space. There was no one beside her.

Silence. There were no grizzled voices. No footsteps, of man nor animal. No one even breathing near her.

As her eyes adjusted, she couldn't deny any longer that she was alone. Her thoughts skittered around, but one remained above all-

Where is Charlotte?