When Amber woke up in the morning, she felt a comforting warmth enveloping her frame. As her eyes fluttered open, she realized she was not in a bed but in the cave. Her body froze as she processed the situation. Blake's arm was curled around her shoulder, and her head rested in the crook of his neck. They had unwittingly formed their own cocoon of warmth during the night. A flush spread across her cheeks, and her stomach churned with anxiety. How had they ended up like this? His arm held her tightly, making it difficult to move without waking him. The thought of him waking up to this position filled her with a sense of dread. She couldn't bear the thought of him being disgusted and avoiding eye contact with her, not that she particularly wanted his gaze on her anyway. But she had to do something.
Thinking quickly, Amber faked a loud and obnoxious yawn, stretching her arms out and arching her back slowly, attempting to extricate herself from his grasp in the most casual manner possible, hoping to avoid an impending awkward moment. Just the day before, they had harbored mutual distrust toward each other, and now they had cuddled during the night. Disgust coursed through Amber's body, causing her to shiver. As she felt Blake stir awake, she began to shuffle away. She watched, somewhat discreetly, as he opened his eyes and frowned, furrowing his brow. He, too, seemed confused, she realized. Amber avoided his gaze as he slowly gathered himself, rubbing her eyes and faking another yawn while stretching her body once more.
"Good morning," Charlotte grumbled upon hearing Amber's movements, her small form still curled up with closed eyes.
"The fog has cleared. When you're ready, let's head off," Blake said, his gaze fixed on the cave entrance, reverting back to his authoritative self. Charlotte mumbled something that sounded like an 'okay,' and Amber nodded, standing up. She obnoxiously twisted her back, eliciting a satisfying crack, and picked up her knife from the ground, tucking it into her waistband, unaware that Blake was watching her intently.
Bellamy had initially thought it was an odd, unwarranted dream when he woke up in the middle of the night holding Amber so close to him. But her current demeanor confirmed that it wasn't a dream at all. He observed her as she cracked her back, the daylight gradually seeping into the cave, illuminating her figure. His eyes fell on her wrists—one adorned with a makeshift bandage, a hidden injury from the lake monster, while the other wrist, with her wristband, was scratched and raw. That strange feeling in his stomach resurfaced once again.
Charlotte stirred, stretching and standing, almost mimicking Amber's initial movements from earlier that morning. The young girl smiled at Bellamy and handed his jacket back to him. Blake finally stood, joining Charlotte's side as she stared at Amber, who tucked her gray shirt into her worn jeans and began walking toward the cave opening.
"It's all clear," Amber announced and took a step forward. The sunlight bathed her skin, enveloping her in warmth. She tried to push aside any memories of waking up to a similar sensation.
"Anybody out here?!" Blake yelled, standing by Amber's side. "Jones?!"
In the distance, the three of them heard a loud call, "Over here!"
/
As the three of them jogged, with Blake leading the way and Amber falling behind at the back, Amber couldn't shake the unfamiliar sensation in her stomach. It wasn't discomfort around Blake; it was something else entirely, something she had never experienced before, and she despised it.
Upon meeting three of Blake's followers, Bellamy let out a sigh of relief. "Lost you in the stew. Where'd you go?" he asked.
"We made it to a cave down there," one of the kids holding a sharpened pipe replied. "What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Blake honestly admitted, his concern evident. "Where's Atom?" he inquired, realizing that his friend was missing.
The expression on the kid's face spoke volumes, and Blake stiffened. Amber stepped in to speak for him. "Let's find him, then," she said, and the three teenagers understood the urgency. Amber took the lead, recalling the sounds of coughing and struggle she had heard while they were running from the fog. She mentally prepared herself to come face to face with a lifeless body.
After only a minute of walking, Amber reached a downward slope that led to a clearing where a motionless body lay, covered in blisters and burnt skin. She stopped in her tracks at the sight, her heart skipping a beat despite knowing what she was about to witness. Remaining eerily calm, she stood there, gazing down from above. It was when Charlotte let out a piercing scream that Amber realized Atom was still breathing.
As Bellamy comforted Charlotte, Blake muttered a curse under his breath upon reaching Atom's body. "Atom," he said with a raised voice, running up to his friend. Amber snapped out of her trance and followed closely behind Blake.
Bellamy crouched beside Atom, his eyes locked with those of his dying friend. Pain was the only thing visible in Atom's eyes, reflecting the agony he was experiencing. Amber crouched on the other side of Atom, remaining silent as he whimpered, struggling to form words for Blake. Bellamy leaned closer to Atom's mouth, straining to hear his words.
"Kill me," Atom pleaded. Blake stiffened, the weight of his friend's request sinking in. Atom repeated the words, his gaze briefly meeting Amber's before his focus returned to Blake. There was something in Amber's eyes that Blake couldn't quite place—a hint of sympathy, perhaps? He pushed aside the questions in his mind; it wasn't the time for introspection.
Atom's gasps grew more labored, and Blake stood up, leaving Amber sitting there uncomfortably, watching as the other teenagers caught up and stood beside Charlotte, all wearing expressions of shock. Charlotte approached Blake, her gaze fixed on Atom. She reached into her pockets and retrieved the knife that Bellamy had given her the previous day. Placing it in Blake's hand, she watched him closely.
Amber turned her attention back to Atom, feeling a wave of something unfamiliar wash over her. Gently, she brushed his hair with her calloused hands, and he fluttered his eyes shut momentarily, attempting to steady his breathing.
Amidst the tense atmosphere, Charlotte and the others were instructed to return to camp by Blake. Only Amber remained by Atom's side, providing comfort as Blake hesitated with the knife in his hand. His fear was palpable, and Amber could sense it. But she wasn't afraid, and she understood why. While Bellamy may not be capable of taking a life, she knew she was.
"Bellamy, please," Atom choked out, his voice barely audible. The sound of a snapping twig caught Blake and Amber's attention as Clarke arrived, her expression filled with shock and concern. She quickly joined them, crouching beside Amber and assessing Atom's condition.
"I heard screams," Clarke stated, her breathing fast and erratic. Blake explained that Amber and Charlotte had found Atom, and Charlotte had been sent back to camp. Blake's thoughts turned to the impact this would have on Charlotte's nightmares.
Clarke examined the suffering boy, taking in every agonizing detail. She shook her head at Bellamy, signaling that there was no hope for saving Atom. Bellamy nodded in understanding, and Clarke took a deep breath, preparing herself.
"Okay," she said to Atom, her voice filled with a mixture of sympathy and resolve. Leaning forward, she reached for Bellamy's knife to carry out the mercy killing, but Amber's hand stopped her. Clarke turned her gaze to Amber, struck by the eerie calmness emanating from her. Despite the unease it caused, she could see the sincerity in Amber's eyes.
"Let me," Amber said softly, locking eyes with Blake. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded, relinquishing the knife to her.
"Okay," Amber whispered to Atom, her focus on his face and eyes. "I'm going to help you, alright?" With her free hand, she tucked her hair behind her ear before inching closer to him. She hummed a soothing tune, a song that her brother used to sing to her during panic attacks after she was told she had to hide. Her gentle touch continued to caress his hair, and Bellamy couldn't help but be captivated by her actions. For someone who often displayed hostility and made impulsive decisions, such as jumping in front of a jaguar or fiercely defending her brother, she was surprisingly delicate and deliberate. Bellamy began to understand what her brother had meant when he mentioned her caring side. She was a complex mixture of impulsivity and genuine concern. He couldn't help but be struck by her unreadability, constantly trying to decipher her true nature.
As Amber prepared herself for the difficult task ahead, the surrounding atmosphere held a sense of reverence and sorrow. Everyone present understood the necessity of what she was about to do, even though it would be painful for all involved.
As Atom took his final breath, Amber carried out the mercy killing with a resolute and steady hand. Her humming ceased, and the weight of the moment settled upon them all. She looked up, her hair framing her face as she met the gaze of Clarke and Bellamy. In that shared moment, Amber had noticed an unspoken understanding passing between them—an indescribable mix of grief, solemnity, and silence.
Clarke's eyes mirrored Amber's sorrow, her gaze filled with compassion and empathy for the difficult choice that had been made. Bellamy, still grappling with the complexity of Amber's character, found himself drawn to her in that moment. He saw a vulnerability beneath her stoic exterior, a depth of emotion that he had only caught glimpses of before.
After a moment, Clarke reached out and placed a comforting hand on Amber's shoulder, offering silent support. Bellamy, too, moved closer, a mix of admiration and understanding in his eyes. In that quiet moment, they formed an unspoken bond, recognizing the shared burden they carried and the strength they found within each other.
Together, they allowed the weight of the moment to linger, acknowledging the loss they had just experienced. The silence enveloped them as they began to process the impact of their choices and the harsh realities of their world.