✧】vii. too late, mecha【✧
[ murphy's law ]
BEFORE AMERY KNOWS what's happening, the camp is in an uproar.
Charlotte has disappeared into a tent, herded by Bellamy, Clarke, and Finn. As Clarke hovers near the entrance of the tent, anxiously running a hand through her hair, Amery catches a glimpse of the blonde's wrist. There's no telltale flash of metal, no wristband representing the girl's strong ties to the Ark.
Amery blinks, and Clarke ducks inside the tent.
Maybe it was the wrong wrist. But she doesn't think so.
"Bring out the girl, Bellamy!" Murphy screams, the sound guttural as he paces back and forth a short distance from the blue and white canvas. Amery huddles near Cash and Zoe on the edge of the crowd that has amassed behind the boy, thrumming with nervous and uncertain energy.
It all happened so fast, Amery thinks. And she'd been so quick to believe that it was Murphy, that he'd murdered Wells in cold blood, because everyone else said so. I'm no better than the rest of them.
Amery, of all people, should know not to believe every accusation.
As if reading her mind, Zoe nudges Amery with her elbow and lifts the corner of her mouth in a sympathetic smile, as if to say it's okay. Amery inches closer in response, unconsciously scanning the rest of the crowd for any sign of Keaton or Harper, but having no luck.
After Charlotte had screamed her confession to a gaping crowd, Monty had herded Jasper back to the dropship to calm down. Amery sees no sign of either of the boys outside— probably for the better, she thinks.
"Bring the girl out now!" Murphy bellows, growing increasingly impatient. Raised voices are muffled through the tent's makeshift walls, but the low and angry tones of Bellamy's arguments are unmistakable. Amery wonders what's going on in there.
Is having Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin in a tent with an apparent murderer really the best idea?
"You want to build a society, Princess?" Murphy asks sarcastically, throwing his hands out in a come and get it kind of a gesture. As if Clarke can see him through the barrier of the tent. Amery's jaw tightens. Beside her, Cash bounces nervously on the balls of his feet, his fingers tapping anxiously against the sleeves of his jacket. "Let's build a society! Bring her out!"
The mop of curly brown hair with a frighteningly calm expression that emerges from the tent is definitely not Charlotte.
"Well, well, well," Murphy breathes as he approaches Bellamy, who holds a quiet, exasperated kind of fury in his eyes. "Look who decided to join us." The inquiring eyes of the entire camp are on Murphy's back as Amery holds her breath.
Amery remembers the several face-offs that have already occurred in the center of camp, the same crowd looking on as Murphy and Bellamy and Wells all got into fights that were never finished. Is this the start of another?
"Dial it down and back off," Bellamy says, his voice deep and entirely flat, a demand leaving no room for argument. But Murphy doesn't care.
"Or what?" he spits, unwavering despite having to look up at his opponent. "What are you gonna do about it? Hang me?" Despite his mask of nonchalance, Amery hears the bitter undertone in his voice, the sting of betrayal cutting deeper than Murphy would ever willingly allow anyone to see. Everyone he thought he knew turned against him in moments. Amery doesn't want to know how that felt.
"I was just giving the people what they wanted," Bellamy says lowly, face betraying no emotions.
Amery knows he's right, and it makes her sick to her stomach. If Bellamy hadn't done it, someone else would have. Murphy had no chance.
Zoe exhales shakily on Amery's right, her eyes darting around nervously. Looking for Harper, Amery assumes.
"Yeah," Murphy sneers, the drying blood still splattered across his jaw cracking as his lip curls into a bitter snarl. "Yeah, that's a good idea. Why don't we do that right now?" He turns around, sauntering toward his audience and tossing a hand in the air. "So, who here wants to see the real murderer hung up?" he calls, and Amery's heart pounds even faster. "All in favor?"
Only a few hands join Murphy's in the still air– Mbege and a few of Murphy's other right-hand men. Octavia spins to look at Mbege in utter disgust, but most of the other campers remain still and silent, allowing the thick tension to seep into Amery's skin and chill her to the bones despite the sweat dripping down her spine.
Murphy's expression is that of an eerily still kind of rage, exuding a dry and bitter anger, almost amused. "I see," he shouts, taking a step back. "So it's okay to string me up for nothing," he seethes, voice rising in volume until it hits a guttural shout, "but when this little bitch confesses, you wanna let her walk?"
He's screaming now. "Cowards!" Amery involuntarily takes a step back, running right into Zoe. "All of you are cowards!"
"Hey!" Bellamy surges forward. "Murphy!" he barks. "Murphy. It's over," he says, voice firm. Murphy takes a step back, letting his shoulders drop as his arms hit his sides.
For a moment, a silence thicker than acid fog settles over the clearing. The trees stand oddly still, as if the branches are holding their breath along with the camp.
"Whatever you say, boss." A surrender.
With one last look, Bellamy turns to walk back to the tent, and Amery lets herself breathe.
But then all hell breaks loose.
Murphy snatches a log from a nearby woodpile and nails Bellamy in the back of the head, sending him crashing into the dirt.
Amery's hand flies to Zoe's wrist in alarm when the other girl surges forward as if to join the fight.
"No," Amery whispers harshly, but it's almost pleading.
"Son of a bitch!" The high pitch of Octavia's screams pierce the rest of the cacophony of shouts. "Hey!" Amery doesn't look, instead letting Cash drag her in the direction of the dropship. He places himself between Zoe and Amery and the commotion, arms out in a protective stance as they move.
"Charlotte!" Murphy's scream makes Amery break into a run, Zoe and Cash on her tail. She hopes Clarke and Finn used the distraction to get Charlotte out, although she's not sure where they would go. The woods are the only option, and Amery is on edge at the idea of the two them out there together, even under the circumstances of harboring a fugitive murder child.
She thinks of Raven back on the Ark and decides that if Finn hurts her, Amery herself will kick his ass into the next wave of acid fog.
Amery can't put a finger on why, exactly, there's such a significant difference between Murphy and Charlotte hanging from a tree, lifeless, but there just... is.
Amery hates kids, and Charlotte is no exception, but she doesn't think she wants the kid to die. Whatever twisted kind of moral compass she's developed as of late is beyond her.
She's not sure when she reached the dropship, but she sags against the metal beside the ramp, feeling the dirt under her clammy palms.
Zoe flops down beside her nervously and Cash crouches in front of them. From her vantage point, Amery sees Murphy and his crew gearing up to search, throwing themselves into the woods beyond the gates with bellowed threats and promised pain.
Amery doesn't know what to do.
She hates not knowing what to do. People are not problems that can be dissected into a succinct, repetitive procedure. Emotions are not something that can be fixed with something out of a toolbox. This is not something Amery knows how to fix, and she feels irritatingly non-mechanical butterflies flitting impatiently around in her gut as she realizes how completely and utterly useless she is.
"Amery," a voice brings her out of her reverie. She starts and turns to find Zoe looking immensely worried.
"Sorry," Amery sighs, running two hands down her face in distress. "Do you... what do we do now? Should we try to find the kid?"
Zoe shrugs unhelpfully. "They could be really deep in the woods by now," she murmurs, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. "I don't know whether it's worth it."
There's a beat of silence before Cash lets out a deep exhale. "I... have either of you seen Keaton?" Both girls shake their heads and Amery feels worry deep in the pit of her stomach. "I need to go look for him. Just to make sure. I haven't seen since the woods," Cash explains, and Amery nods, waving him away. Amery remembers the look on Keaton's face out there. He wasn't himself, but how could she expect him to be? How could she expect him to hold himself back when Wells' body was in the ground?
Cash stands to leave, but then Bellamy barks out his name.
"Cash!"
Cash's shoulders deflate as he turns to look at the older boy. "What?" His voice is wary, exhausted, but laced with resignation. When Bellamy issues a command, it is not wise to reject it.
"We need all hands on deck to find Charlotte before Murphy does. Let's go." Cash looks to Amery with defeat in his eyes.
"I'll find him," Zoe sighs, waving Cash away. He hesitates, but when Bellamy coughs expectantly he turns to follow.
Dick, Amery thinks.
"Hey, Red," a familiar voice calls from the dropship entrance, and Amery feels her lips split into a smile in spite of the situation when she sees Monty peeking through the flaps. "You got a minute?"
He's alone, Amery notes— no Jasper peeking out behind him. She wonders if the other boy is still inside or if he's retreated to the tent.
Monty's voice is a little drained, a little exhausted, but so is everyone's. Hell of a day it's been, Amery thinks.
Harper appears from behind another tent, starting to make her way over to where Amery stands with Zoe, and Amery lifts a hand in Monty's direction in an I'll be there soon kind of gesture.
Harper's shoulders are hunched, her head down, hands tapping anxiously against her thighs as she approaches her companions. Amery frowns.
"Harper?" Zoe asks softly, standing and taking a step toward the blonde. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
"She's just a kid," the blonde whispers when she reaches Amery and Zoe, eyes wide and brimming with tears. Amery's eyes widen.
"Hey, hey, come here," Zoe murmurs, pulling Harper into her arms. Zoe makes eye contact with Amery over the other girl's shoulder, mouthing go. With a sympathetic smile and one last glance at Harper, Amery slips into the dropship, where Monty is waiting.
✧✧✧
"What's going on?" Amery asks tiredly, trying to keep her shoulders from sagging as she pushes through the dropship flaps. Monty shrugs halfheartedly at her, his face smeared with dirt and grease, propped against a dropship wall.
"Too much," the boy huffs, patting the ground next to him. Amery sinks down beside him without question, finding herself suddenly exhausted. "That was..."
"Yeah," Amery whispers, afraid that if she speaks any louder her voice will break. "Uh, Jasper?"
Monty nods. "Got him calmed down. He slipped out a little while ago, said he was going to crash in the tent for a little bit."
Amery nods. "Good," she murmurs, unsure of what else to say.
"Are you okay?" Monty asks, and Amery turns, startled.
"Me?" she asks, eyes widening. "I'm... you know I'm not good with kids. Charlotte was... you were so good with Fox, I should be asking if you're..."
"We aren't talking about me," Monty says softly, cocking a brow in question. Amery shrugs, berating herself internally when hot tears threaten to spill from the corners of her eyes.
"C'mere," Monty says, and then he pulls the girl into his arms and hugs her.
Amery freezes for a moment, unsure of how to respond, but then she finds herself hugging back, clenching his jacket as if it's the only thing keeping her rooted in reality as hot tears threaten to break from the corners of her eyes.
"I don't know why it matters so much," Amery laughs dryly, pressing the back of her hand to her eyes as they pull away. "She... she killed him. I should be so... so mad that she killed Wells. I loved Wells. I did. But she's..."
"A kid," Monty finishes. Amery just nods, unable to speak. "I know. Today... was the fault of a lot of people. But there isn't anything else we can do for her, or for Wells, now."
Amery knows he's right, and staring into the seemingly endless depths of his dark eyes only solidify it. But she still can't rid herself of the poisonous feeling in her gut.
Unconsciously, she finds herself reaching into her pocket, spinning the dried out leaf in her fingers but not taking it out.
"You know that nobody ever told Jasper that Murphy tried to kill him?" Monty asks after a moment, the corner of his lips tilting up in a half-smile. Amery looks at Monty in confusion. "Octavia said it when Clarke and Murphy were facing off outside, and Jasper looked like someone just told him he could never drink again."
In spite of the situation, Amery finds herself laughing. An abrupt transition in conversation, but a welcome distraction. She remembers how out of it Jasper had been on the second floor that night Murphy had tried to pull something. Nobody told him. Nice.
"Did you bring me in here just to check on me?" Amery asks softly, forcing herself to meet Monty's gaze.
He seems to hesitate, then nods sheepishly as if making a confession. Amery's mouth twitches in a smile.
"Yes. I mean, yes, but also, I, uh... I got one live," Monty says, gesturing to something on the other side of the room. Amery squints in confusion as she gets up and pads across the metal floor, gasping as she sees a wristband glowing with a faint blue light on the floor, all sorts of wires connecting it to an elaborate radio setup atop a haphazard metal table.
"How?" she asks breathlessly. "Didn't we run out?"
"Clarke actually gave me hers," Monty says. Amery's eyes nearly pop out of her head at the admission. So she had seen correctly. "I know. I still haven't quite figured it out, either, but I'm not complaining," Monty admits, and Amery nods, gingerly picking up the wristband and turning it in her hands. "I told her we'd be talking to the Ark by nightfall."
Amery turns to face Monty slowly, gaze torn between his hopeful expression and the blue glow of the live wristband.
"You're a genius, Monty," she says. He reddens.
"Takes one to know one."
✧✧✧
After marveling over Monty's progress for a good while, Amery realizes that Zoe never actually went to find Keaton because she was comforting Harper.
"Hey," she elbows Monty lightly, earning a quirked brow in response. "I gotta go check on Keaton. You good here?"
Monty nods and grins, raising two fingers in a playful salute before turning back to his work.
The air has a dry sort of chill to it as Amery emerges from the dropship and scans for Keaton's tent. She's sure he'll be there— did he even witness any of the Murphy situation?
Sure enough, Amery can make out the shadow of a figure behind the orange canvas of Keaton and Miller's tent. "Keats?" she calls, waiting for his grunt of acknowledgement before pushing through the flaps.
Keaton has his knees pulled up to his chin, arms wrapped around them loosely. His eyes are a confused sort of vacant, and they meet Amery's as she walks in. Dirt and dried blood— his or someone else's, Amery isn't sure— trace the angular lines of his face.
The deep circles under his sunken eyes remind her of the days he'd spent sobbing after his mother died.
"Oh, Keats," Amery murmurs, taking a seat next to the boy on top of his sleeping bag. She doesn't ask if he wants to talk about it. When he wants to, he will.
After a minute or so of comfortable silence, Keaton shifts and looks at his friend. "It's true, then?" he asks, his voice husky from lack of use. "Charlotte killed him?"
Amery nods slowly. "Guess so."
Keaton lets out a shaky breath, letting one leg slide under the other and resting his elbow on his knee. He shakes his head and laughs humorlessly.
"That little girl. That tiny, desperate girl that I thought needed my help—" his voice cracks, and he takes a breath. "She killed him. She killed Wells."
It's like he didn't believe it before he finally said the words, and Keaton turns to look at Amery with anguish in his eyes. "Wells is dead, Mer," he whispers, and the floodgates open.
She welcomes him with open arms, unbothered when his tears soak her shoulder. She sheds a few of her own, letting them mix with Keaton's in a waterfall of shared pain and loss and earthshaking grief.
I've already cried for him, says a small voice in the back of Amery's mind. But after a moment, she shakes it off— after all, doesn't Wells deserve to be properly mourned?
Amery doesn't know how long they sit there, trying to process how Wells, their Wells, was killed by someone so seemingly innocent as Charlotte.
After a while, Keaton stops crying. Head still nestled in Amery's shoulder, he sniffles. "What's gonna happen to her?" he asks, his voice muffled by the denim of Amery's jacket.
She hums into his hair. "I don't know, Keats," she whispers, and it's the truth. She doesn't know what she even wants to happen.
"You should know," she says after a moment, "Cash is worried about you. He was looking for you all day, and then Bellamy called him to do some patrol shit."
Keaton finally pulls away, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. He looks thoughtful for a moment, pensive, before he makes his decision.
"Fuck Blake," he says dryly, and Amery can't help but crack a smile.
"Fuck Blake," she echoes, snorting. Keaton smirks halfheartedly, the mood in the tent lightening by several degrees as he expresses his gratitude toward Amery in just one look.
"Yo, Keats, you decent in there?" the gruff voice of Nathan Miller rings through the tent, and Keaton smirks.
"Not for you, I'm not!" he calls back, and Nate makes his entrance with a shit-eating grin.
"Hate to break it to you, buddy, but I'm—"
"Loyal to Bryan," Keaton finishes, a teasing but satisfied smile on his face. "Oh, we know."
Nate nods at Amery in greeting, and she returns the gesture before nudging Keaton softly with her shoulder, taking her cue. "You know where to find me," she says, a subtle way of reassurance, a let me know if you need anything.
Keaton nods gratefully, and Amery exits the tent, the flaps closing on Nate and Keaton's hushed conversation.
It's dark out. Stars are visible in a patchwork of gleaming freckles all across the indigo of the night, and Amery takes a deep breath of fresh air before she takes a seat outside the dropship, reveling in nature. Her apparent pollen allergy hasn't been giving her too much trouble as of late.
Having checked in on Keaton, Amery feels slightly better. All her people accounted for.
But she can't shake the shock that comes with Charlotte's confession.
Cash finds her lost in thought, startling her with his abrupt flop into the dirt beside her. His return marks the end of the search party, the unknown but now determined verdict of Charlotte's fate.
He's uncharacteristically quiet.
"Hey," Amery murmurs, surveying his face in the dim moonlight, the dried blood on the corner of his mouth and the deep, blueish bruise on his jaw. "You alright?"
Cash shrugs. "Had worse." He takes a deep breath in, staring at the sky.
Amery waits a beat before asking the question looming in the air. "You find her?"
Cash exhales shakily. "We, uh... she tried to turn herself in," he says lowly, eyes far away. "Clarke and Collins tried to hide her. Bellamy promised me he wouldn't kill her, but she didn't even try to... she kept screaming for Murphy," he shivers. "And eventually we got 'em all cornered on this... this cliff," he whispers.
Amery doesn't interject, waiting for Cash to collect himself before going on. Her heart thumps against her ribcage harder than usual, and she finds it difficult to sit still. She isn't sure which way she wants this story to go.
"And then... I don't know, Amery, it all happened so fast," Cash's voice cracks, head tilting toward the ground now. "Murphy had Clarke, knife to her neck, and Charlotte just... she said she couldn't let anyone else get hurt," he whispers, and Amery realizes tears are streaming down his face.
Hesitantly, she inches closer to him. "Hey," she whispers, trying to pretend that this is familiar territory, that it's just like Keaton.
"She jumped, Amery," he whispers, and his head falls into her shoulder, mirroring Keaton's earlier actions. "Sh-she jumped," he sobs. "She k-killed herself, and I didn't even... I didn't stop her, I couldn't, I wanted to, but—"
"Hey, hey," Amery soothes, rubbing circles on his back because that's what Sinclair used to do for her when she cried. "That is not your fault. Cash, there's... there's nothing you could have done."
"My head knows that," he whispers, pulling away shakily, "but my heart doesn't, you know?"
Amery does know.
"You'll get there," she promises. When Cash seems more himself, she asks the other burning question.
"Murphy?"
"Clarke and Bellamy banished him."
"Banished?" Amery gapes. "What does that even... what?"
"They left him out there," Cash says dryly. "To... well, to die, I guess. Said they'd kill him if he ever comes back."
Amery can tell from the tightness in Cash's voice that he disagrees with the decision. But she can't help but think it's fair.
A knife to Clarke's throat. A threat to kill Wells. A fight with Keaton. Trying to kill Jasper.
But Amery voices none of this out loud.
"Did Monroe find Keaton?" Cash asks quietly, almost hesitant. It takes Amery a moment to put Monroe's name to Zoe's in her head. It's odd, she thinks, the way most of the camp calls her by her last name. Amery shakes her head, but speaks quickly when concern pools in Cash's eyes.
"I did," she assures him, and tension seeps from the boy's shoulders. She pauses, unsure of how much she should say. "He... He'll be okay."
"I'm sorry to dump all that on you," Cash murmurs. "I just... Keaton's already been through... I couldn't go to him like this. I couldn't do it."
"Hey," Amery says in what she hopes is a firm voice. "I'm... I'm glad you came to me."
"Funny thing," Cash sighs, leaning back against the dropship. "I actually came to make sure you're okay." He snorts. "Before I realized I was gonna bawl my eyes out on that nice jacket of yours."
Dead man's jacket, Amery thinks, but she doesn't dare speak more of the earth's anguish into the night air.
"Me?"
"No, the other you," Cash says dryly, and Amery rolls her eyes.
"You've absorbed Keaton's sense of humor," she quips.
"Don't insult me like that."
Amery cracks a grin. "Thanks for checking," she murmurs, looking at the ground and tracing pictures in the dirt with her finger. "I don't know... I don't know how to feel. Mad, I guess. Confused."
"Sad?"
Amery shrugs.
"Emotions are okay, Ginger Ale," Cash presses, but lets it go moments later. Amery allows herself a small smile at the nickname, an indication that Cash is feeling more himself. "Okay, topic change," he announces. "Battle between Octavia's big snake monster and the angry acid fog. Who would win?"
Amery blinks, not having expected this particular change in topic. She decides to roll with it.
"Snake," she says after a thoughtful moment. While she never saw the beast, she does remember the blood dripping from Octavia's nasty wound after their expedition. "Assuming the fog doesn't really have an effect in the water, or that thing would've been dead a long time ago."
Cash nods thoughtfully, letting his gaze wander across the darkening treeline before returning to Amery's face. "Fair. Okay, you go."
Amery grins. "Bellamy or Octavia in a fight?"
The two launch into an elaborate game of who would win, which quickly morphs into a twisted sort of "would you rather."
"Death by poison sumac or an angry Abby Griffin? Three seconds, go."
"Jesus, what?" Cash yelps. "We did not agree to time limits."
"We didn't make up rules, Cash," Amery reminds him, grinning. "Three seconds!"
"I don't know what that— oh god, it's poisonous? Abby, I guess, but I— angry Abby would be terrifying. Fuck. The... wait, what if angry Abby decided to kill me with poison sumac?" Cash gasps, and Amery is on the ground laughing.
"Poison sumac isn't poisonous," she tells Cash between gasps of air. "They're just flowers."
"What— hey! That was dirty," Cash protests.
Amery grins. "Courtesy of Monty Green."
Cash stops short and lets a smirk work its way onto his lips. "And you've sure been spending a lot of time with him, haven't you?"
"Cash," Amery groans. "We've been working on wristbands."
"Yep. Wristbands," Cash clucks his tongue. "Guess I've heard weirder euphemisms."
"Cash—"
Before Amery can get out a retort, the taller boy is on his feet, bouncing away. "Gotta find Keaton!" he calls, throwing up his hands in a fake apology. Amery sighs. It's just work, she tells herself.
They're just wristbands.
✧✧✧
As the chill of the night grows sharper, Bellamy and Clarke round the camp up to announce Murphy's banishment. Amery stands quietly beside Harper, who Zoe has managed to cheer up. Keaton, Cash, and Nate huddle off to the side, conversing quietly.
"That's why we've decided to banish him from camp," Clarke says in that soft but firm leadership voice of hers, the sharp lines of her face illuminated by the flicker of the flames.
"Anybody got a problem with that?" Bellamy chimes in. He's met only with silence. It's a challenge, a last chance for Murphy's crew to say their piece and join him in the woods. But even Mbege and his gang stay quiet.
Amery does not have a problem with that.
As the crowd disbands, Clarke approaches Amery hesitantly, boots making soft padding sounds in the dirt. What does she want?
"Uh... yeah?" Amery asks defensively, and Clarke holds her hands up in mock surrender.
"I, uh... I just wanted to ask if you and Monty could show me how the radio's going to work," she says. Amery drops her guard.
"Oh," she says dumbly. "Yeah, um... follow me, I guess."
"Thanks, Mecha," Clarke smirks, and the redhead spins on her heels and cocks a brow in question.
"You know that's a horrible nickname, right?" Amery notes dryly, gesturing to the busy camp behind them. "You know how big Mecha is?"
Clarke just sighs. "Too late, Mecha. It's stuck."
Amery snorts. "Because your prince over there said it, too?"
Clarke ducks her head, but even in the dim light of the flames Amery can see her blush.
✧✧✧
"Will we be able to talk to them?" Clarke asks quietly, an indecipherable emotion hidden in her voice.
"No. More like Morse code," Monty explains, not breaking focus as he twists knobs and readies the communication platform for activation.
"You know Morse code?" Cash asks skeptically, eyebrows shooting up. "I demand to know why everyone else they sent down here is smarter than me. I find it wildly unfair."
"Some messages can be sent in much simpler ways," Amery points out, and Cash scoffs.
"Like what?"
"Like this." Amery flips him off.
Cash makes an offended squeak. "You know, in the Skybox, Keaton always said you were nice. What a liar."
Amery just smirks. The liar in question is back in his tent with Nate, today's events having worn him to the bone. But Cash, as always, is teeming with energy.
"You want to do the honors?" Monty asks Jasper. The lanky boy approaches hesitantly, looking to Monty for instruction. "That port right there," he says as he hands Jasper the wire.
Amery can't hold back her grin as Jasper brings the wire nearer. The Ark, she thinks hopefully, picturing Sinclair and Raven and Kyle and their shocked expressions when contact is made with the Ground.
But then Jasper plugs the wire into the port, and the entire system crackles, a bright white flash sending Jasper reeling back with wide eyes. Clarke shrieks and even Collins jumps from his spot against the wall a short distance away.
Amery had forgotten the Spacewalker was there for one blissful moment.
"What happened?" Clarke asks urgently as Monty stares in mute shock at the contraption.
"It didn't work," Monty says, voice full of disbelief and regret. "I think we fried all the wristbands."
Finn stares for a moment, then turns and storms out of the dropship. Clarke grabs her bag and follows, the frustration obvious in her harsh steps.
"She's not mad at you," Amery whispers, putting a hand hesitantly on Monty's shoulder. "It's just Finn being Finn."
Monty doesn't respond, sagging as he stares at his failed experiment.
"Monty, it's not your fault," she says.
"It is," he says flatly, and Amery is about to protest when her attention is torn away by Octavia approaching Jasper, who has sunk to the ground on the other side of the dropship.
"Sit there at your own risk. I think I might be cursed," he says dryly.
"Then call me a risk taker," she replies. "And Jasper, you're not cursed."
"Unlucky, then."
"No. Brave," Octavia says forcefully, as if urging Jasper to believe in the weight of her words. Amery glances at Monty, whose rapt attention is now focused on his best friend.
"Brave? For getting my face bashed in or for ruining any chance to contact The Ark?" Jasper huffs.
"No!" Octavia protests. "For standing up to a bully... and trying to help everyone."
"Yeah, and failing," Jasper emphasizes. "Both times."
"I didn't see anyone else step up. Did you?" Octavia asks, not waiting for a response before continuing. "And I don't care how things turned out. You were brave to try. And bravery is always rewarded."
Octavia leans forward and presses a kiss to Jasper's mouth, remaining there for a moment before pulling away and looking at him with a small smile.
Without a word, she makes her exit, and Jasper is left with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. He turns to stare at Monty in disbelief.
Monty gives Jasper a thumbs up, a smirk working its way onto his face as Jasper tries to comprehend the events that just unfolded.
Amery turns to Monty with a shit-eating grin.
"No game, huh?"
✧✧✧
Harper and Zoe's steady breathing is not enough to lull Amery to sleep. Despite feeling absolutely drained from the combined effort of comforting Keaton, Cash, and Monty in the same day she discovered a child murdered her friend... sleep seems to evade her.
Rising from the pile of blankets, Amery pushes quietly through the tent flaps and into the cool night.
She starts a slow circle around the inside of the camp, occasionally catching snippets of whispered conversation from inside some of the tents.
It's so dark that she nearly runs right into Monty.
"Woah," he chuckles, grabbing her elbow to steady her.
"Thanks," she breathes. "Uh... you too?"
Monty nods in the dark. "C'mon," he murmurs, leading her to a vacant log. The two sit against a thick tree trunk, staring at the stars.
"You know it isn't your fault, right?" Amery says, looking to the boy on her left. "The wristbands, I mean."
"I... it is, Amery. It's okay. I know," Monty murmurs.
"No, Monty," Amery says, more sharp than intended. Monty seems surprised by her adamancy, too, raising a brow. "It isn't. You're the smartest person I've ever met. You're the only one down here who even came close to hooking up to the Ark. It's an impossible feat, and you almost did it. You should be damn proud of yourself."
Amery is afraid to look at him. She isn't sure where that came from. Motivational speeches, reassuring words, comfort— it's never quite been her thing. But what was she doing all day, then? It's been a mess. But she's done some good things today, right?
"It's like Octavia said earlier," she continues, softer this time. "Nobody else even tried. You're brave."
She digs into her pocket and pulls out the leaf, spinning the stem between the pads of her thumb and middle finger for a moment before pressing it into Monty's hand.
It's warm against hers, and her breath hitches when Monty's wide, dark eyes meet hers.
"Thanks, Red," Monty whispers.
Even as her hand pulls away, Amery finds herself leaning into Monty's body warmth, the cold air slipping into the sleeves of her jacket and making her shiver just slightly. Maybe it's just in her mind, but Amery thinks Monty leans in, too.
It seems nothing more needs to be said, this silence the comfortable kind that doesn't insist on being filled. For a while, the two just sit there, leaning into each other and staring at the sky, the place they called home for so long.
"Amery," Monty breathes. "I—"
His sentence is interrupted by a blinding flash of atmospheric light.
"What the hell?" Amery mutters, Monty's words fading to the back of her mind as something streaks toward the Ground like a ball of fire. "Holy shit."
Someone's coming from the sky.
✧✧✧
a/n:
hi! it's been too long, but as midterms wind down i'm finally making a lil' time to write.
hope y'all enjoyed this one. amery still hasn't been outside the camp, but that'll change real soon...
what do you guys wanna see going forward?! i love hearing your thoughts!!
thank you for reading <3
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