Quick Note: After many years of struggle and frustration, this story has now been completely renamed, re-vamped, re-written, and re-edited. The overall storyline remains the same, and chapters you've already read will appear later on, but this story will take place before season 1 of the show. The OC's appearance and characterization have changed slightly, but her core values remain the same. This is the final version of this story, and other than a few trivial edits, it will never be changed again. Ever.

Thank you to everyone that has stuck around and for their patience.

All rights go to the creators and writers of The 100, except the original character, Eve Logan. Unless they want it, then sure.

Chapter 1

Bellamy hated waiting—hated standing around doing nothing for God knows how long when he could be doing anything else. But what he hated, even more, was waiting around for Alpha Station pricks. He glanced down at his watch—the digital screen displayed thirty minutes past 1400 hours, which meant that Alpha kid was late. Again.

Before his mind conjured up all the ways he could make someone hurt, Bellamy took a deep, long breath and exhaled. His anger subsided just enough to remember that beating up the clientele wouldn't sit well with Connor.

But did he really give a shit what Connor wanted?

Yeah, you do, asshole, his rationale chided. You need to get paid.

And he got paid enough to wait.

Giving in to reason, he leaned against the wall and stood around some more. He turned his head to stare into the small window across the room. Light beamed in and illuminated the dark room a gloomy blue, balls of gas twinkled just outside in an infinite blanket of black, and a panel of glass separated him from the vacuuming void of space. With one little crack in the window, he knew the whole ship could be turned inside out.

And the ship had a lot of windows.

It didn't scare him, though. Not many things did. He lived in a constant state of danger—like now, as he waited in a station he wasn't allowed in, waiting for a person he had no business meeting, selling enough drugs to knock out an elephant—if those were still around. None of it fazed him.

Lately, however, something had crawled out from the recesses of his mind. Something that made him hesitate every time he took a risk. Thoughts of doubt and consequences plagued him at every decision, and he didn't know why. All he knew was that he felt heavier and grew more tired of it. Tired of selling poison to pampered assholes. Tired of sneaking around and lying to everyone he knew. Tired of living a lie. He wanted to do something else. He didn't know what, but it sure as hell wasn't being a goddamn drug dealer for the rest of his life. And it wasn't working for the Ark Guard like his mother strived to get him into.

He just wanted something else—anything else.

Bellamy closed his eyes and sighed. But what he wanted didn't matter. At the end of the day, he didn't do it for himself. He did it for her. And he'd do anything for her.

The hiss of a door sliding open cut through the air. Bellamy turned his head and took a step back into the shadows. The door closed with another low hiss. Light footsteps grew closer as the person walked further into the room. Then they stopped. "Hello?"

Bellamy recognized the voice, and he rolled his eyes. He stepped out. "You're late."

A client from Alpha Station he called Haircut started and turned to him, his complexion paler than usual. "You scared the crap out of me!" He called him Haircut because his brown hair was cut in odd, jagged angles like he got it caught in a turbine and ripped it out before it decapitated him.

Bellamy thought he should've just let the turbine cut off his head because he looked like a fucking idiot.

"You got the cards?"

Haircut gave him an indignant look and then reached into the material of his scruffy jacket that Bellamy could only discern as wool. Very valuable stuff. The piece was also in excellent condition, still having all its original buttons and holding most of its color. If Haircut had met Bellamy on his own turf, he'd already been shived for it by four different people. The idea of beating it out of him came across Bellamy's mind. A jacket like that could give him a month's worth of rations…

But then again, he'd be out of a job, and Connor would probably send someone to kill him for threatening his connections to Alpha Station. Probably send that douchebag Dax to do it—which was fine. He could take Dax.

Haircut produced a stack of rations cards and held them out. Bellamy snatched them out of his hand. With an annoyed look, the kid stood around and waited as Bellamy counted them. "Is this gonna take all day?" he huffed.

"You in a hurry, Haircut?"

"My name is Frederick…and yes. I am. This place is disgusting."

"Yeah, that sucks. You wanna know what sucks even more?" Bellamy lifted his head and held up the ration cards. "You're short."

"No, I'm not."

Bellamy stared at him, wondering if he was purposely trying to piss him off. "Yeah. You are."

Haircut crossed his arms across his chest. "I pay for quality, and considering that Connor's product has been lacking in potency, I think that's a generous amount."

"Put in a complaint. I don't give a shit. But you're paying full price."

His mouth dropped in exaggerated offense. "Excuse me? I will pay full price when it provides more than a thirty-minute high, and remember who you're talking to, Factory boy. With one ping, I could have you cleaning toilets for the rest of your life.

Bellamy's mood swan-dived. The kid shrieked like a girl when Bellamy lunged forward, grabbed him by the collar of his fancy-ass jacket, and thrust him against the wall. "Listen, shitbag!"

"Help!" Alpha boy shouted towards the door, but before he could make another sound, Bellamy knocked the wind out of him with an uppercut to the belly. Alpha boy curled into himself, his choked gasps filling the quiet room.

Not hearing any activity outside the door, Bellamy turned back to the kid and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in. "You all right, pal?" He watched as he tried to catch his breath. After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah, you're all right." He shoved him upright against the wall so he had no choice but to look at him.

"You know what they do in Factory Station if you don't keep your side of a bargain?" Bellamy asked. Haircut didn't answer. "I'll tell ya." He pulled a knife out from his back pocket. "You lose a finger. Now, I'm a nice guy, so I'll let you pick which one."

The kid stared at the serrated knife with wide, horrified eyes, fearing gripping his body. All the horror stories of Factory Station played back in his mind, and Bellamy could see them, all the film-worthy torture scenes that the other stations liked to tell their friends about factory station—stupid shit like taking fingers and teeth as payment, stabbing, and robbing people in the middle of the hallways, setting Guards' quarters on fire. Stealing candy from babies. Some of it was true, but most were total crap. Bellamy would never steal candy from a baby. Most of it was made from recycled tea herbs, which tasted worse than the shit they put in the protein bars.

"Don't hurt me. Please!" Haircut cried. "I'm sorry. Here, just take them. Take them all." He reached into his pocket, and Bellamy watched as he jumbled through his pants and dropped more ration cards than anyone should carry. The kid froze and slowly lifted his head to look at Bellamy with horror. As if he was going to stab him for just dropping them.

Bellamy shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Go ahead, pick 'em up."

As Haircut scrambled to the floor, Bellamy folded his knife and stowed it back in his back pocket, deciding he'd done enough. Even though he could do a lot more, he didn't want the kid pissing himself.

"Here." The kid offered the stack with shaking hands. Bellamy grabbed it and counted it off.

It was a lot. Actually, it was too much. Who the hell carried this many rations cards on them? An idiot, that's who. He glared at Haircut and went back to counting, shaking his head. "I'm taking what you owe my boss…and what you owe me for wasting my time," he held up his portion and then offered back the rest. Haircut nodded and carefully accepted the cards.

Bellamy placed his rations into his back pocket and then pulled out a small black bag that contained the reason for this shitshow. He tossed it at Haircut, but the kid missed the catch, and it dropped to the floor. And as he reached down to pick it up, Bellamy looked him over. He was young—couldn't have been more than sixteen years old—barely older than his little sister. Getting caught with drugs, a class B infraction, would put him in prison until he was eighteen, and then ultimately floated out into space. Bellamy, on the other hand, would see his own execution immediately because those over the age of seventeen were dispensable and forgettable. To the Ark, it was like taking out the trash.

But Bellamy didn't give a shit what they did to him. His life wasn't the one he worried about.

"Word of advice," he told him, "don't meet a dealer in a jacket that tells the whole world you're sporting these kinds of stacks, or you will run into someone that'll do a lot worse than take a finger." He turned to leave but then turned back. "Oh, and don't ever be late again."

Haircut nodded. "Yeah— yeah. Sorry."

He turned and left the room before his mood could get any shittier.

oOo

Bellamy kept a steady stride as he descended the corridor, passing storage and utility rooms collecting dust. The main rooms were now maintained in the central hub closest to the control rooms, where they kept tabs on everyone and everything on the ship. But lucky for him, the Ark's all-seeing eye had a blindspot.

The sky bridge was only a few hallways down now, and in fifteen minutes, he'd be back on his side where the walls were a depressing gray, stained with grime and machine oil, and the recycling air was somehow staler than the rest of the ship. Home sweet home. But the thought didn't weigh on him because he was coming up on his favorite spot on the Ark—an intersection with a half-wall-sized window with a killer view of Earth and the only place he ever found real peace. He turned the corner, ready to be greeted by a stream of natural light that constantly flooded out the ship's circadian fluorescent ones, only to freeze in his step.

Someone was sitting on the windowsill.

They hadn't heard or seen him, so he retreated around the corner and pressed his back against the wall. Bellamy thought for a moment… Fuck. He'd done this run a hundred times, and not once had he come across someone here at the only connecting hallway to the sky bridge. How the hell was he going to get past them?

He could just wait them out…but that would leave him open to being spotted by someone else. Guards sometimes actually did their jobs and patrolled the area. No, he couldn't stay here.

Fuck it. As far as anyone knew, Bellamy lived here. He was an Alpha asshole like the rest of them.

With resolution setting into his bones, Bellamy turned the corner again and went down the hall with steady and quiet steps. He caught sight of the person and watched in case they looked his way. It was a girl, arms resting on folded knees as she stared out the window onto the blue planet that was once the Ark's home. The view of her face was obstructed by a curtain of dark, golden hair that fell past her shoulders. To his relief, she didn't move the slightest.

Just as he turned into the connecting halfway, she spoke, her whisper so low that he nearly missed it. "I hurt myself today."

He froze. Panic held him still, but he was more than ready to bolt.

"To see if I still feel…I focus on the pain…the only thing that's real." She was singing, he realized. Her soft, low voice didn't reach down the corridor, but it reached him. "I wear this crown of thorns…upon my liar's chair…full of broken thoughts…I cannot repair."

Bellamy listened, hearing the sadness in her beautiful voice as it went on. "And you could have it all…my empire of dirt…I will let you down…I will make you hurt."

Somehow, he could feel the pain in her gentle words. They weaved their way into his chest, and it tightened. He thought of his mother and sister. About how much they depended on him. He thought about his worst fear—letting them down. Of slipping up one day and ruining everything they worked so hard to build. The truth was…he was scared. He was scared every day that he'd do something to get them caught. He was playing a dangerous game. A game that could kill him and everyone he loved.

"If I could start again. A million miles away. I would keep myself. I would find," she paused and closed her eyes. Then quietly finished, "A way."

She took a shuddering breath and exhaled, and he knew she was crying.

"That was beautiful," his gruff voice cut the silence, the words slipping out of their volition.

Her eyes shot open, and her head snapped toward him. She blinked, realization sobering her up. "Sorry," she apologized, wiping the tears off her face. "I didn't see you there."

Bellamy wasn't sure why she was apologizing. Releasing a shaky breath, she swept her sadness beneath a sweet smile. "Thanks." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and when he didn't walk away, she looked at him. "Do I know you?"

"No. I was just passing through."

She nodded and lowered her gaze, sniffling. She was pretty. With big, blue doe eyes, pink lips that formed a sweet smile, and dark, golden hair that fell in waves along her angelic face. She lifted her gaze, and the corner of her mouth pulled back. "Well," she said, "pass on through." She gestured to the hallway.

Bellamy looked over at it and thought for a moment.

He should leave.

Before he got into trouble.

"You know, I would, but…" he stepped closer, ignoring all reason. "I'm kinda lost."

She arched an eyebrow. "You're lost?" Suspicion grew in her eyes, and they dragged over him, slowly and purposefully, as if she was physically patting him down. It made his skin tingle—but in a good way. He was sure of it. "You're not from Alpha Station, are you?"

He sucked in a breath and held it before exhaling in defeat, "afraid not." Her gaze flicked toward the hallway leading back into Alpha as if she would magically find a guard standing there. "Look!" he said, catching her attention. He took a few more steps closer, holding up his hands. "I know what you're thinking, but before you report me, hear me out. I have a very good explanation."

"Oh yeah?" she asked, her tone full of doubt. "Let's hear it." Folding her arms over her chest, she waited for him, a ghost of a smirk on her lips growing wider as he struggled to come up with something.

After a few seconds, he gave up. "I got nothin'."

She laughed. And Bellamy took it as a good sign. Girls usually found him funny, and any girl that found him funny wouldn't rat him out…right?

Shaking her head, the girl stared at the floor as if she were figuring out what to do. After a moment, she sighed and then slid off the window sill. "I'll take you to the bridge," she decided. "But if you're gonna be sneaking around here, try not to draw attention to yourself."

"That was the plan," he remarked. "But then I ran into you. So who's fault is it really?"

She smirked, walking past him. "Also, don't be a smartass. The guards don't like it."

He grinned, liking her more by the second. "Yes, ma'am."

"It's not far." She gestured to the hallway and, with a flick of her head, told him to follow her.

She led him to the Sky Bridge. Not that he didn't know exactly where it was, but he enjoyed the walk, especially now that he could get a good look at her. Her sandy, golden hair cascaded like a waterfall down to her lower back which wasn't common on his side of the ship. Most girls kept their hair short because it was too difficult to maintain with their minuscule water allotment. And good shampoo cost a fortune. She wore a dark jacket with dark pants—all well-fitted around curves that defied starvation. She was from Alpha Station, through and through. He'd never been with an Alpha girl, but by how his friend Luke groveled at his girlfriend's feet, they had to be something special.

The girl looked over her shoulder at him and caught him staring, but he didn't flinch. He locked eyes with hers and gave her that slow smile that made girls swoon for him.

She laughed to herself and turned away.

That… wasn't the reaction he expected, but he'd take it.

"So, where you from?" she asked aloud.

"Guess."

"Hm…well, you're obviously not from Alpha. And you're too—" she glanced over her shoulder, giving him a quick scan before turning back, "—built to be from Hydra, Tesla, or the other engineering stations." Bellamy smiled to himself. She meant he wasn't wimpy enough to be one of the nerds that worked in the Power Stations. "So you're either from Mecha, Farm, or Factory. Possibly Arrow. But since we're heading to the Sky Bridge… it's either Farm or Factory." When he didn't say anything, she looked over at him. "Am I close?"

"Very."

She smiled, looking proud of herself. It was cute.

They walked for a few more meters. "Well, there you go," the girl chimed, gesturing to the glass-paned corridor that connected Alpha to the rest of the ship.

He stopped beside her and looked at the Sky Bridge. Encased in glass, the short connection was one of the most incredible places on the ship. The stars could be seen so clearly and brightly here that sometimes it looked like a goddamn light show.

But Bellamy wasn't interested in stars.

He turned back to the girl staring up at him and realized her eyes weren't just blue. They were also green, like turquoise gemstones. He also realized now that he'd been dead wrong before. She wasn't pretty. She was fucking beautiful. With all the grace and perfection of a white dove. If he was one of those bald Greek poets, he'd write poems about her all day and write words like 'ethereal' and 'weep' and others he'd never used in his entire fucking life. He'd compare her to flowers and planets and always feel like nothing could do her beauty justice. He'd probably lose his mind trying to do so, just as he would lose his mind if he never saw her again after tonight.

Bellamy cleared his throat. Keep it together. She's just some random chick. "You still haven't guessed," he reminded her.

Those eyes dragged over him again, and it didn't help slow the blood rushing through his veins. Then they flicked back to his face. "Show me your hands."

He laughed. "Well, that's a little forward. What kind of girl do you think I am?"

She smiled, amused. "Just show them to me."

"Since you asked so nicely." He lifted his hands, palm facing up. She leaned in to look at them, and she was close enough that he could smell the soft scent of her lavender shampoo. Expensive stuff, but he knew the smell well enough. Anytime he could get some decent shampoo or soap for his mother and sister, he'd make sure it was lavender.

She took one of his hands into hers, and he ignited like a furnace, all his blood pouring into his lower regions. Yup, he was definitely going to lose his mind.

Her thumb rubbed across his palm, feeling the rough lines and the small scars he'd gotten from working the assembly lines. She stared at them for a long time with an unreadable expression before she said in a low voice, "You need to be more careful. That passage isn't as empty as it used to be. At least, not anymore. Next time, it might not be me that catches you."

His dove looked up at him with so much softness and care, like she understood something. Something about him. And he was trapped in it. Trapped in her glow, her scent, the lithe of her voice. But most of all, her kindness. He could see it, beaming off of her like sun rays. He wanted to keep basking in it and couldn't care less if a guard showed up.

He looked down at their hands, his thumb passing over hers. "What if I want it to be?"

He met her gaze, and she practically flinched, surprised. She hadn't expected that, so he smiled to ease her shock. Something told him she wasn't used to being hit on. Which was a crazy thought. What guy wouldn't jump at the chance to just talk to her?

Her shoulders lowered, and the shock was replaced by a playful smile. "Then you'd be looking for trouble," she teased.

"I like trouble."

She laughed. "I can tell." She released his hand and glanced at the bridge, knowing a guard could appear at any second.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Marie," she answered. "What's yours?"

"Bellamy."

"Well, Bellamy, it was nice chatting with you…but it's time for you to stop flirting with me and get your ass across that bridge."

Bellamy grinned. "Yes, ma'am."

She gave him a polite smile and then walked away. He watched her, the question can I see you again teetering on the edge of his tongue. He wanted to see her again. He didn't know why, but he did. "Marie," he called to her.

Marie stopped and looked over her shoulder. And as if she saw the question on his face, her smile faded, and her gaze dropped. She cleared her throat. "Goodnight, Bellamy." And with that, her pace quickened, and she was gone around the corner before he could say anything. Never once turning back to look at him.

Bellamy stood there for a few seconds, wondering if he should chase after her. He'd never chased a girl before, but there was always a first for everything, and his ego would understand if he dropped everything for Aphrodite, the goddess herself, right? What mere mortal wouldn't? He stepped in her direction.

…and then yanked himself in the other.

He liked trouble. No, he loved it. But he wasn't stupid enough to run back into enemy territory twice in one day and risk himself getting floated before he could secure his family's safety. Not even to relieve the tightness in his pants.

…or the one in his chest.

Song rights go to Nine Inch Nails (or is it Johnny Cash? Did Trent hand those over to him? I don't know.) Song is Hurt by Nine Inch Nails.