Myles walks back into camp, fresh game in hand for lunch. After breakfast, some of the boys had come up with the idea of making a smokehouse, and as the redhead enters the camp, she can see them still talking it over. One of the teens is aggressively drawing lines in the dirt to demonstrate whatever point he's making. Wells walks into camp just as Myles reaches the back of the dropship, arms full of clothes and carrying two pairs of boots, and she sighs. This isn't going to end well.
Off beat drumming can be heard as delinquents bang on makeshift drums. Kids are running around like maniacs, jumping each other and causing a ruckus. Shouting and hollering wherever they go. They just about run into Wells as he comes past the main fire pit, as they rush off to continue playing some game. The dark skinned teen glares at them as they go, and continues marching forth, limp barely visible.
Wells goes to walk past the ramp, where one of the parachute scraps now covers the entrance to the dropship, and Atom zones in on the teen.
"Hey, uh," the blue-eyed teen says from his spot on the ramp. "Where'd you get the clothes?"
Atom stalks up to Wells as he comes to a stop, turning to answer the boy. Myles slows to a stop beside the dropship, and sighs again, tiredly, expecting the altercation that's about to happen.
"Buried the two kids who died during the landing," Wells supplies, and the redhead's chest twinges with regret.
The girl had been too caught up in everything to check on the boys who went flying on the trip down. Myles hadn't even found out they'd died until later that day when she was extracting pieces of the dropship and she stumbled across their bodies.
"Smart," Atom nods half heartedly, but Myles sees right through it. Leaning her shoulder against the cool metal of the dropship, she watches, knowing what's about to happen and wanting to stay out of it. "You know, I'll take it from here."
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Atom is reaching forward, hands grabbing for the bundle of clothes in the others arms. Wells reacts quickly, turning his body away.
"There's always a market for –"
"We share based on need, just like back home," the privileged boy cuts the blue-eyed teen off sternly, just as the flap of parachute covering the dropship entrance lifts. A shirtless Bellamy Blake saunters out, gun on full display, tucked into the front of his jeans.
"You still don't get it, do you, Chancellor?" The Blake's deep voice rumbles out.
A girl quickly slips out after the man, only a bra and pants on. The brunette grabs his attention by pushing her body into his and he turns to her and giving her a long kiss on the lips. Satisfied, the teen skips down the ramp and leaves. The red-haired teen watches with raised eyebrows, amusement dancing in her eyes.
Wells doesn't think the PDA is that amusing, as he rolls his eyes, a bitter look on his face.
"This is home now," Bellamy finishes, his relaxed posture oozing arrogance, "your father's rules no longer apply."
The tall, toned man saunters down the ramp, and Myles doesn't try to stop her wandering eyes. Deep brown eyes meet hers as she lifts her perverted gaze back up, and the smug look that greets her only adds to her entertainment.
"Like what you see?" The egotistical man quips with a smirk.
"You're the prettiest boy in all the camp, your majesty," the redhead shoots back without missing a beat, pushing off the dropship and making her way past the feuding men.
Happy birthday, Aggie.
Bellamy barks out a short laugh, and walks up to Wells. Myles turns and just catches the man plucking a shirt out of the teens hands. The Blake brother quickly takes a step back and Wells advances. Turning away, the redhead throws the dead animals at the group by the fire and they stop arguing to cheer. A teen shoves her arm gently as the group praises her work.
"No, no, Atom," Bellamy says loudly, getting the attention of Myles and the group beside her. "Atom, hold up."
The blue-eyed boy, ever the loyal counterpart, does as he's told, taking his arms off the privileged teen in front of him.
"You want it back? Take it," the Blake sibling challenges.
It's dead silent for a minute, Bellamy and Wells staring each other down, the other delinquents around them watching the three guys with bated breath. Wells turns away, after a moment, and tosses the clothing and shoes on the ground. Immediately, nearby teens scramble for them, desperately jumping over each other to get to them first. Atom stalks over as well, in no rush, watching the frenzy of teens.
"Is this what you want?" Wells bellows. "Chaos?"
"What's wrong with a little chaos?" Bellamy replies, shrugging slightly, putting his arms through the shirt and tugging it over his head.
Almost instantly, a girl's screams cut through the camp. Heads snapping in the direction of the girls distress, Myles breaks out into a run but Bellamy and Wells are closer, reaching the scene seconds before her.
Murphy is holding a whimpering teen over one of the fires, the protective hut knocked over and to the side. Myles comes to a stop beside Bellamy, hazel eyes wide in horror.
"Bellamy," the brunette greets, "check it out. We want the Ark to think that the ground is killing us, right? Figure it'll look better if we suffer a little bit first."
Bellamy and the red-haired girl take a few steps in shock before stopping again, in sync. Wells doesn't stop though, continuing to run at the teens.
"Let her go!" Wells demands, barrelling towards them.
Wells shoves Murphy back forcefully, freeing the girl and jolting the man back into gear, as he walks forward. Bellamy's movement stirs Myles, and she runs for the girl. Reaching her quickly, she helps her up, and with the teen leaning heavily against her, pulls her away from the fire pit. Wells looks from Bellamy, who's stopped once again, to Murphy on the ground, a hopeless look in his brown eyes.
"You can stop this," the dark skinned boy says with a look of disgust on his face.
"Stop this?" Bellamy repeats, a twisted smile on his face. "I'm just getting started."
The redhead passes the still trembling girl off to Harper, knowing she'll be in good hands. Turning back to the men around the fire pit, Myles steps forward slowly, before Jones and Atom are at her side. The blue-eyed boy's hand is on her arm and the dark skinned boy is standing protectively in front of her, an arm reaching around blindly to make sure she doesn't step around him.
Their actions make her heart swell, the redhead reaches a pale hand up to rest on Jones's arm, letting him know she's heeding their warning. Dark brown eyes look into her hazel ones, and he relaxes.
All of a sudden a flurry of movement makes Myles jump, causing her bodyguards to tense again. Murphy had gotten to his feet while they were distracted, and landed a heavy punch to Wells's face. The teens body spins from the force of the impact, and he goes crashing to the ground. The crowd that's gathered starts erupting with cheers of 'fight', and the redhead knows after yesterday's brawl being intercepted by Spacewalker, there's no stopping Murphy now.
Wells is on his feet when Murphy swings next, and the boys tussle, throwing each other around. A blur of arms swinging and shoving violently as the crowd chants the word 'fight'. Wells lands a good hit to Murphy's face and the brunette falls back, before quickly regaining his footing and charging at Wells. Murphy ducks as he runs into the teen, and hoists him up, before throwing him onto the ground, hard. Murphy is on top of the struggling teen, throwing punch after punch to the dark skinned boy's face. Wells grabs his attacker by the shoulders, and rolls them over so he's on top.
Bellamy Blake watches the whole thing with wide eyes. Atom and Jones pull Myles further and further away, bit by bit, until she can no longer see the bloodied teens, only hear the heavy crunches and grunts. The gut-churning sounds continue for a minute more before the crowd chatters, displeased.
"Don't you see you can't control this?" Wells voice sounds strained, but he's on his feet and in her line of sight, unlike Murphy.
Bellamy doesn't say anything, merely watching with that same shocked expression. Myles hears a blade being dragged out of its place on a belt, and her stomach plummets. Murphy's on his feet not a second later.
"You're dead," the bloodied teen threatens lowly.
Wells looks terrified, and Bellamy steps forward with a hand raised towards Murphy.
"Wait," the man booms out, waiting until Murphy looks in his eyes to continue. Turning to Wells, he holds the knife the redhead gave him up. "Fair fight."
Eyes slipping closed, Myles leans against Atom slightly in despair. Tossing the makeshift blade to Wells' feet, Bellamy backs up. The crowd is dead silent as Wells looks from the knife to Murphy to Bellamy. Weighing his options, she supposes. Murphy smiles a sinister, bloody smile, and it prompts Wells to pick up the knife. Murphy takes a few steps forward, Wells backing up with each step, before he lunges. Blade swiping side to side viciously as the dark skinned boy jumps back with petrified, but stubborn eyes.
Happy birthday, Aggie.
Murphy clips Wells's arm with his knife, a small spurt of thick, red blood spraying as the injured teen shouts in pain. Myles turns into Atom, not wanting to watch anymore, and she feels two pairs of hands come to steady her. Looking up into deep brown eyes, she doesn't know what to do, her hands flying up to grab the hands and just hold them a minute.
The redhead's breathing heavily, wanting desperately for everything to just be alright. To just stop. Not ready to face the consequences of the Blake brother's mantra of 'whatever the hell we want' from the night before. The scuffle is still going on behind her, she can hear it, and all of a sudden Harper's got her arms wrapped around the teen, prying the redhead from Atom and Jones's hands.
"Wells!" Red braid whips through the air harshly at the sound of Clarke's voice. Hazel eyes finding the blonde clambering down the hill to the far right of the fight. "Let him go!"
Something's wrong. She notices Jasper's not there instantly. As the group comes barrelling down the hill, Myles jogs to meet them, leaving Harper behind, eyes searching for her best friend. Greenie's there, a bit further back, helping an injured Octavia down the hill. The redhead sprints to them, hooking Octavia's other arm around her shoulders and guiding the two down.
"Where's JJ?" Myles says, frantic.
The two don't say anything, Monty merely meet her eyes and continuing forward. He's pale and covered in dirt, blood coating parts of his clothes. Wells throws Murphy down to the ground, and Bellamy finally intercepts the fight. Jumping in front of the knife wielding teen as he barrels towards Wells in retaliation, the Blake brother holds the struggling boy.
"Whoa, hey," the man says, shaking him slightly. "Enough, Murphy."
Murphy stills and the man turns his attention to his sister.
"Octavia, are you alright?" He hurries over to the three, immediately grabbing her from Monty and Myles's arms. Octavia nods, but she's clearly in pain. "Where's the food?" Bellamy's asks Clarke, who only stares blankly in response.
"We didn't make it to Mount Weather," the Spacewalker explains, sitting down. Myles's blood runs cold, and she turns to Monty.
"What the hell happened out there?" The tall man demands, words and expression hard.
The redhead looks from Octavia's bloody leg to Monty's distraught face as he sinks down on a log. Thinking the worst, she drops beside him and he instantly leans into her. Myles lifts her arms to wrap around him loosely, comforting him, as she listens to the others speak.
"We were attacked," Clarke answers, seriously.
"Attacked?" Wells repeats. "By what?"
"Not what. Who," the shaggy haired teen responds, looking physically drained. "It turns out," Spacewalker continues, "when the last man from the ground died on the Ark, he wasn't the last grounder."
Bellamy turns to Octavia and rubs her arm, as Clarke confirms Spacewalker statement.
"It's true," the blonde added loudly. "Everything we thought we knew about the ground is wrong. There are people here, survivors. The good news is, that means we can survive. Radiation won't kill us."
"Yeah," Spacewalker replies, dryly. "Bad news is, the grounders will."
Everything goes silent. Myles ears are ringing as she holds her best friend.
"Where's the kid with the goggles?" Wells questions, rather insensitively.
"Jasper," Myles barks out quickly, causing eyes to turn to her in surprise, the dark skinned teen turning to glare at her. A look she easily reciprocates.
"Jasper was hit," Clarke answers, words frantic. "They took him." It's silent for another moment, before Clarke's eyes happen downwards. "Where is your wristband?" The blonde demands, grabbing Wells's wrist.
"Ask him," Wells responds, not hesitating to give Bellamy up.
The Blake brother shifts uncomfortably on his feet as Octavia fixes him with questioning, but not judgemental eyes.
"How many," the blonde's voice is as cold as ice, sending shivers up the redheads spine.
"Twenty-four and counting," Murphy answers proudly.
"You idiots," Clarke spits, shaking her head in disbelief. Turning to the crowd, she yells. "Life support on the Ark is failing. That's why they brought us down here. They need to know the ground is survivable again, and we need their help against whoever is out there. If you take off your wristbands, you're not just killing them. You're killing us!"
Bellamy's face doesn't move as the blonde rants. Rolling his eyes, he calls out. "We're stronger than you think," walking away from Clarke to address the crowd, he adds. "Don't listen to her. She's one of the privileged. If they come down, she'll have it good. How many of you can say the same? We can take care of ourselves. That wristband on your arm? It makes you a Prisoner. We are not prisoners anymore! They say they'll forgive your crimes. I say you're not criminals! You're fighters, survivors! The grounders should worry about us!"
Bellamy Blake has a gift. The man knows how to sway a crowd, knows how to tell people what they want to hear. Shouts of agreement ring through the camp, delinquents raising their arms to show they side with the words of the Blake boy. Clarke shakes her head and storms off to the dropship, Myles and Monty quick on her heels.
"What now?" The redhead asks, as she and her best friend catch up with the blonde.
"Now," Clarke says, determined. "We go after Jasper."
The two need no further encouragements, already wholly onboard. Three pairs of feet stomp over the ramp, and into the dropship, before Myles spins on her heels. "Wait, I need more arrows," she tells the two, before hurrying back out the flap, nearly knocking a bloodied Wells over.
Mumbling a quick apology, the redhead wastes no time, jumping off the side of the ramp and scurrying for her tent. Flinging the parachute open and throwing herself inside, she surprises the young blonde sitting on the floor. Apologising, she grabs her more arrows sticking them into her quiver, still on her back, and turns to duck out again.
"What's happening?" Charlotte asks, worried.
"I'm going to get my friend. Go find Harper, don't leave camp without her," the redhead says rapidly, diving out of the tent.
Jogging back to the dropship, Myles slips back inside. Seeing only Monty in the room, fiddling with a light, she strides over to him.
"Where are Clarke and Wells?" Determined hazel eyes meet brown worried ones.
"Up a level," he responds quickly and the redhead nods.
Restless, her eyes scan the dropship for anything that could be of use. Hazel landing on the spare parachute scraps, she grabs the leftover material and bundles it up shoving it into her jackets inner pocket. It sticks out, awkwardly poking into the red haired girls stomach.
"It's not your ankle, Wells, it's you," Clarke's grits out, climbing down the ladder.
Their return grabs the two best friends' attention.
"You came back for reinforcements. I'm gonna help," Wells counters, calmly, descending the ladder after the blonde.
"Clarke, he's right," Monty interjects desperately. "We need him. So far no one else has volunteered."
Spacewalker slips in the tent flap behind the blonde, as she looked tiredly at the Asian teen.
"I'm sorry, Monty, but you're not going, either." Myles snaps her eyes to her best friend's, hating that she agrees with the blonde's words.
"Like hell I'm not," the teen in question immediately refuses, leaning close to Clarke's face. "Jasper's my best friend."
"Greenie," Myles calls in warning. The betrayal in Monty's eyes almost breaks the redhead down, dejectedly shaking her head with a pained expression on her face.
"You're too important," Clarke states, trying to calm the distressed teen.
"You were raised on Farm Station and recruited by engineering," Myles reasons gently. Stepping forward and bringing her hand up to his head. "What's up here?" Pale, slender fingers tap lightly on his temple, "will save everyone here."
"And the people on the Ark," Clarke adds. "You figure out how to talk to the Ark and we'll bring Jasper back."
Monty turns deep brown eyes back to Myles' hazel ones, pleading, not to let him go with them, but to bring back his best friend. The red-haired girl nods, eyebrows still drawn together in worry, and wraps her arms around the teen tightly, kissing the side of his head the way the two boy's had done the day prior. Clarke turns, satisfied and notices Spacewalker there for first time.
"Hey, you ready?" The blonde asks as she moves to walk past him.
"I'm not going anywhere," the shaggy-haired delinquent says seriously, stopping Clarke in her tracks. Myles scoffs, and pulls away from her best friend to fix the teen with an angry stare. "And neither should any of you. That spear was thrown with pinpoint accuracy from 300 feet."
"So what, we let Jasper die?" Monty spits out.
"That's not gonna happen," the blonde responds quickly, dismissing the thought.
"'Spacewalker'?" The redhead scoffs venomously. "You think you're such an adventurer, everything's just too boring for you, huh? You're a coward."
"It's not an adventure, Myles," shaggy retorts, grabbing the red-haired girl's arm as she shoves past him. "It's a suicide mission."
Myles pulls her arm back and continues on her way out of the dropship, stopping when her boots hit dirt, waiting for Clarke. The redhead doesn't wait long before the blonde is stomping down the ramp, Wells not too far behind her. Clarke slows as her head spins around, blonde hair whipping side to side at the movement, before spotting who's she's after.
Determined, the blonde marches towards the Blake siblings, the redhead right by her side as Wells hangs back a few steps. Octavia groans and fidgets as her brother cleans her wound. As they get closer, the two girls pick up on a part of their conversation.
"I don't know," the brown-haired girl sighs, "the others said it looked like a giant snake."
"You could have been killed," Bellamy chastises in a worried tone.
"She would have been," Clarke interrupts as they approach the pair, "if Jasper didn't jump in to pull her out."
The siblings turn to the girls, Wells stopping a few steps behind them. Octavia perks up upon seeing them.
"You guys leaving?" Octavia asks quickly, tying a strip of fabric to her injured leg and moving to stand. "I'm coming, too."
"No, no," Bellamy immediately rejects, holding her in her seat and rising to his feet. "No way. Not again."
"He's right," Clarke agrees, "your leg's just gonna slow us down." Hazel eyes snap to the brunette's brown with red eyebrows raised, taken aback at how blunt the blonde's words were. Pale hands adjust the quiver on her back nervously. "I'm here for you," the princess finishes, looking at the older Blake sibling.
Bellamy looks at Clarke in surprise, not expecting the blonde to have asked for his help. His deep brown eyes flicker to hazel, in question, smiling slightly when he only gets a shrug from the redhead.
"Clarke," Wells calls in alarm, stepping closer to the girl. "What are you doing?"
The blonde ignores him, instead addressing the Blake boy again. "I hear you have a gun." Bellamy lifts his shirt to show the blonde the gun tucked into his jeans. "Good," she states, "follow me."
Bellamy watches Clarke as she moves past him. "And why would I do that?" His deep voice queries, arrogantly.
Clarke turns around to face him. "Because you want them to follow you," the blonde shifts her eyes to the delinquents around them, "and right now, they're thinking only one of us is scared."
It hits the nail on the head, and as Clarke begins to walk away again, this time Wells on her heels, Bellamy turns to address his goons.
"Murphy," the man calls, "come with me. Atom?" Myles stands next to Murphy, turning her head and wiggling her eyebrows at him. The teen shakes his head, mouthing 'idiot' back as the Blake sibling turns to the blue-eyed teen. "My sister doesn't leave this camp. Is that clear?" Octavia instantly protests, but Bellamy doesn't answer her directly, instead turning back to Atom and adding. "Anybody touches her, they answer to me."
The man doesn't make a move until Atom nods. "Let's go," Bellamy calls to Murphy and the redhead, moving to follow the prince and princess.
The trek starts out quiet, Wells and Clarke had stopped up ahead and waited for the three of them to catch up, before leading them again. The red-haired girl's footsteps were as quiet as her, Bellamy turning to look for her constantly, making sure she was still there. Feeling his eyes on her she sped up slightly, to put herself just in front of the boys so she could avoid meeting the man's gaze.
"Since when are we in the rescuing business, huh?" Murphy asks lowly after a minute.
"The Ark thinks the prince is dead," Bellamy replies quietly. "Once they think the princess is, too, they'll never come down. I'm getting that wristband, even if I have to cut off her hand to do it."
Myles snorts loudly, spinning around and walking backwards in front of the boys.
"Sounds like fun. Count me in," the redhead says, eyes alight with mischief.
Turning back around to face where she's going, Myles keeps her pace with purposeful, silent footfalls. Gliding through the wildlife as if she'd spent her whole life in it, knowing it like the back of her hand. Bright red hair and dense green surroundings somehow blending in and clashing all at once.
"You were made for the ground," Murphy calls to the redhead, echoing the older Blake siblings thoughts.
The five of them walk about 20 minutes further into the wilderness before Bellamy gets restless.
"Hey, hold up," his deep voice calls out. Jogging ahead to catch up with the two in front, Bellamy waves his gun around. "What's the rush? You don't survive a spear through the heart."
Myles glares at the ground, quickening her pace.
"Put the gun away, Bellamy," Wells demands, coming to a stop between Clarke and the Blake boy.
"Well, why don't you do something about it, huh?" Murphy taunts, leaping forward and shoving the dark skinned boy.
"Jasper screamed when they moved him," Clarke explains, "if the spear struck his heart, he'd have died instantly. It doesn't mean we have time to waste."
Myles passes them, and slips under some foliage, trudging on.
"As soon as you take this wristband off, we can go," Bellamy offers.
"The only way the Ark is gonna think I'm dead is if I'm dead. Got it?" The blonde's words are steely, and Myles stops to turn around and give Bellamy an impatient look.
"Brave princess," the Blake sibling mocks.
"Hey," Spacewalker calls out, making another dramatic entrance. "Why don't you find your own nickname?"
The group turns to stare at the shaggy-haired boy as he catches up with them and Myles raises both fists in the air triumphantly, knowing at least someone will move this along. The redhead turns and continues on her path forward.
"You call this a rescue party?" Spacewalker asks sarcastically, heading a bit to Myles right. "Got to split up, cover more ground. Clarke, come with me. You, too, gorgeous."
Red braid whips around from her spot several metres ahead, and looks towards the direction Clarke and shaggy are heading in, screwing up her face.
"Nah," the red-haired girl says simply, heading a bit more left to put some distance between the two groups.
"Are you sure?" The blonde asks, eyeing the three boys slowly making their way toward her.
"She's safe with us," Bellamy declares, holding up his gun.
Clarke and Spacewalker leave, the other four quickly losing sight of them. Bellamy turns his attention back in front of him, and his heart stops. Falling behind the two teens, dark brown curls fly frantically as the Blake sibling tries to catch a glimpse of the red-haired girl, the girl's silent footsteps and swift movement having hidden her in the wilderness.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Wells harshly spoken words cause the Blake's deep brown eyes to stop on him.
Murphy and Wells are stopped under a tree directly in front of them and looking up. Bellamy calms slightly, quickening his pace to reach the tree.
"Perspective," the redhead calls back.
Wells grumbles and Murphy turns on him again.
"Back off," he warns the privileged boy.
Red drops in front of them, not saying a word, but starting even more left with a hasty pace. Bellamy and Murphy are quick to catch up with her as Wells lags behind.
"What'd you see?" The man asks curiously.
"They're headed for a creek," Myles answers, gesturing in the vague direction of the princess and the Spacewalker. "Up ahead, a couple miles, is an ominous clearing."
"'Ominous'?" Wells scoffs behind her.
"What is your problem?" Murphy rounds on the teen, stopping when Bellamy reaches a hand out in warning.
"More ominous than a creek," the redhead explains, Wells scoffs again and Murphy glares back at the teen.
"My problem," the dark skinned boy starts on the girl, "is you walk around like you're some hero."
"She is a hero," Murphy spits back in defence, the redhead merely raises an eyebrow at Wells.
"Is there a problem here?" The tone in Bellamy's voice is authoritative, one that clearly tells the boys to answer 'not at all', and move on.
Wells scoffs, but says nothing more, looking at the trees as they pass them, shaking his head. Murphy keeps a close eye on the boy, and Bellamy on Myles, as she glides through the woods effortlessly. It's quiet for a few minutes and Bellamy sees an opportunity.
"I never did get your name, you know," the man says casually.
Hazel eyes meet his briefly, before looking away again and Wells mumbles something under his breath.
"That's it," Murphy announces, yanking on the teens jacket, the two coming to a halt.
"Hey!" Bellamy bellows, feeling like an outnumbered parent, pulling Murphy away. The teen boys glare at each other as the redhead keeps moving. "Knock it off."
None of the boys had started to move forward when the girl calls over her shoulder.
"Myles."
Bellamy catches up with the girl, the two boys following begrudgingly behind him, still glaring at each other.
"The hell is that supposed to mean?" The Blake sibling utters, confused.
Hazel eyes meet Bellamy's deep brown, then looking down quickly and shrugging lazily.
"My name." The redhead explains as if it wasn't anything important.
The Blake brother smiles widely. "Myles," Bellamy tests, and her eyes snap back up to his. "I like it."
They walk a little while more before Bellamy looks behind them and slows, leaving Murphy and Myles to lead them. Wells is still hanging back behind the group, the redhead can see him when she turns her head, but he's keeping to himself.
"Guess we got more in common than meets the eye, huh?" The man's deep voice speaks calmly.
Brown hair dances in the corner of Myles's eye as the teen to her left looks back at the sound.
"We have nothing in common," Wells replies haughtily.
"No?" The Blake brother presses, voice light. "Both came down here to protect someone we love."
Myles turns her head slightly to meet Murphy's eyes and wiggles her red eyebrows, jokingly. Chuckling, the brunette looks back, briefly, at the two again.
"Your secret's safe with me," Bellamy promises, "'course, for you it's worse. With Finn around," ah, his name is Finn. "Clarke doesn't even see you. It's like you're not even here."
Having accomplished what he'd set out to do, Bellamy quickens his pace to catch up with the two teens in front.
They'd made it more than half-way to the ominous clearing when a voice calls out from a distance.
"Myles!" Red braid whips around.
"Clarke?!" The red-haired girl's boots are already running towards the blonde's voice before she even gets the name out.
"Hurry!" Clarke calls back, and Myles breaks into a sprint. The sounds of the boys behind her, barreling through the wilderness, hardly registers over the redhead's thundering heartbeat.
Breaking through the tree line, Clarke clutching Jaspers goggles and a crouched Finn comes into sight, the redhead doesn't stop, slowing only slightly when her feet crash into the creek's water. Myles only stops running when she's a metre away from the two teens, her eyes spying the colour of her hair sprawled across the rocks. Faltering for a moment, the red-haired girl walks the remaining distance, no longer hearing the boys running behind her.
"This way," Finn directs, standing up to walk away from the creek.
It's not that the redhead doesn't trust Finn, but she just wanted to see for herself. Going to the rock and touching the blood lightly, she feels the blood is still wet, the substance transferring to her fingers. Jasper was through here very recently. Quickly scrutinising the rocks on the ground, Myles agrees with the direction Finn's leading them in, and follows after them. The boys reach their side of the creek as the girl leaves the rocks, following closely, trying to stay out of Finn's way.
Murphy lasts all of five minutes before breaking the silence.
"Hey, how do we know this is the right way?" The brunette asks the group.
"We don't," Bellamy answers. "Spacewalker thinks he's a tracker."
Myles hastens to stand next to Finn, the Blake brother grating on her nerves. The redhead points out a broken stick, to show she's trying to help and not just disrupt the working teen. The shaggy-haired teen nods approvingly at the girl.
"It's called 'Cutting Sign'," Wells butts in quickly, "fourth-year Earth Skills. He's good."
"You want to keep it down," Finn warns, "or should I paint a target on your backs?"
Finn crouches a little, holding up a thin branch from a bush that's been broken and spying more fresh blood below them. The redhead steps forward to continue when a flash above her causes her stop, snapping her head up quickly. Birds. Red eyebrows draw together and one crease forms on her forehead in concentration. There were so many kinds of birds, what were they? Myles' quick movement gets the attention of the group.
"What is it?" Bellamy rushes out, moving to stand beside the redhead.
Hazel meets deep brown for a split-second before she turns her eyes back up, flicking from tree to tree. Myles sees Finn stand in her peripherals.
Then, Myles whistles. The redhead whistles a slow 6 tone beat. Jasper, Monty and her used to knock out the beat, albeit much faster, all the time when they were kids. The birds above them repeat the tone, faster than Myles had done. Everyone's heads look up at the birds, watching as more and more repeat the tune, overlapping each other and mingling the notes, spreading farther and farther away.
Over the birds, they hear it. A loud, pain-filled moan, heads snapping the direction it came from. The moan wasn't just a strangled garbling of noise, but a name being called out, and Myles heard it immediately. Having spent the majority of her life listening to that voice, recognising her nickname was as easy as breathing to the red-haired girl.
"Aggie."
The redhead sprints through the trees, not thinking to slow down or maybe pull out her bow. Unlike Clarke, who tells Bellamy to take out his gun before sprinting out after the girl.
The second Myles bursts into the clearing, she halts. Heart in her throat, as she stares at the pale body tied up in the tree in the middle of the clearing, desperately clinging to life and moaning in pain. Bellamy and Finn just about run into the girl as the group comes to a stop beside her. The blonde snaps back to the task at hand first, saying his name and surging ahead.
Myles snaps out of her trance but can't move, the boys still standing with her in shock. Hazel eyes frantically flicker side to side, not comprehending the situation. Is that medicine on his wound? Why is he in the tree?
"Something's wrong," the redhead says hurriedly. The boys turn to her. "It doesn't make sense, unless," head stilling, she stares at Clarke. Realisation dawns on her, and she whispers. "It's a trap."
Sprinting towards the blonde at full speed before the boys can dissect what Myles just said, the girl screams Clarke's name.
"Clarke!" Myles is seconds from the blonde as the blue-eyed girl slows her jog a few metres from Jasper, eyes never leaving his form. "Wait!"
The redhead reaches for Clarke, still moving at full speed, just as the blonde's boot starts to fall through the ground. Pale hand grabbing the girl's arm, Myles yanks hard, sending the blonde sprawling behind her. The red-haired girl's momentum flings herself into the hole that opened up under Clarke's steps, revealing a pit with spears spiking up towards the sky.
Myles grabs one of her knives made from the dropship metal and twists her body as she feels herself fall through the air, and tries to stab the blade into whatever leverage she can. Her knife sinks into the ground, inches from the edge of the hole, and the redhead slams into the dirt wall, hard. Empty hand flying up to help hold her body up, she can hear the boys shouting, but can't make out their words over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears.
It feels as if time stands still for a moment. Nothing happening for a few seconds as she dangles from the dirt edge. Hazel eyes glance down at the sharp spikes protruding up, centimetres from her legs. Suddenly, muscular arms clamp down on her forearms, eyes looking up into deep brown, familiar eyes as the Blake boy heaves her out of the hole.
Bellamy stops pulling on Myles once she's seated on the ground, but he doesn't take his hands off her arms. A flurry of different hands grasp at her for a moment, making sure she's safely on the ground, Finn turning her away from the pit slightly. Hazel eyes look to the pit for a moment, as the girl pants.
"'Am I alright'!?" The blonde screeches, glaring at Wells, before turning to the redhead. "Are you okay?"
The blonde's hands give her a once over, even after Myles nods.
"Thank you," the redhead says breathlessly, eyes locking with Bellamy's.
"You don't have to thank me for saving your life," the man huffs in response, dropping his hands.
Finn helps the girl to her feet, and Bellamy stands on his own. The group turns back to the poor injured teen in the tree.
"We need to get him down," Clarke states, as Myles walks around the pit knocking down more false floors.
"I'll climb up there and cut the vines," Finn offers, already moving towards the tree, watching where he steps carefully.
"Yeah," Wells agrees, "yeah, I'm with you."
"No," the shaggy-haired boy rejects instantly, "stay with the girls. And watch him," nodding his head towards the Blake sibling, shoulder length brown hair bobbing with the movement. "You," Finn directs at Murphy, "let's go."
Murphy looks to Bellamy before making a move to follow Finn, as Clarke notices what Myles had earlier.
"There's a poultice on his wound," the blonde informs the group.
"Poultice?" Wells asks, confused.
"Medicine," the two girls say at once, Myles not taking her worried gaze off her best friend from her spot directly under him.
"I know what a poultice is," the dark skinned boy says, harshly. The redhead knows it's directed at her, the privileged boy has been less than kind to her since arriving on Earth. "Why would they save his life just to string him up as live bait?"
"Maybe what they're trying to catch likes its dinner to be breathing," Bellamy supplies, darkly.
"Maybe what they're trying to catch is us," Finn suggests from his spot under Jasper, where he and Murphy are trying to figure out the best way to get him down.
"You weren't wrong about the clearing," Murphy tells the redhead.
"Or the trap," Bellamy adds, grimly.
Thick tension fills the air as the shaggy haired teen's theory weighs over them, heads peering around, looking for signs of danger. Myles takes a step back from the tree, to get out of the two teens way, as they start to climb up to the moaning boy. Once the boys reach Jasper, Bellamy comes to stand next to the red haired girl as she watches her friend be cut down from the tree.
"Hurry up, Murphy," Finn chastises.
"Be careful," the blonde calls up to them from the ground, on edge.
Myles whips her red braid around, spying movement out of the corner of her eye, pulling her bow and an arrow from her quiver. Bellamy tenses at the girl's actions, and moves to stand in front of her as she silently notches an arrow, pointing it towards the tall grass. The grass is still now and hazel eyes scan the area, her readied arrow following the movement. When nothing else happens, the redhead lowers her bow slightly, scrutinising eyes still searching the grass.
A low growl reverberates through the clearing, catching the attention of the other teens present. Murphy and Finns hands stilling at the sound as Bellamy pushes Myles back, not giving her a chance to ready her bow again.
"What the hell was that?" Murphy's panicked voice demands, as the four on the ground start to step closer to the tree slowly.
"Grounders?" Bellamy asks lowly.
A flicker of black slithering through the grass catches the redheads eyes.
"Panther," Myles whispers as the Blake brother presses her into the tree, keeping in front of her.
As if on cue, the growling animal slinks out of the grass, circling the Arkers menacingly. The large cat leaps forward suddenly, snarling, pushing Bellamy and the delinquents against the tree.
"Bellamy," Clarke calls out from the other side of the tree, "gun!"
The tall mans back is almost against Myles' front, and as his hand reaches blindly for the back of his pants, his hand brushes against the exposed skin of her stomach. Goosebumps break out over the pale girls skin where she'd ripped her shirt the day before at the touch. A white hot flash of anxiety ripples through her when she realises Bellamy no longer has the gun. The Blake brother's hand still fumbling between them as he tries to grasp something that's no longer there.
Two shots ring out, and Myles snaps her head to see Wells with the gun, firing at the animal. Both shots miss the creature, who slips back into the grass. Knowing Bellamy is unprotected, the redhead ducks in front of the man and draws the shoelace, readying the bow. The panther shows itself again, not too far from the two privileged teens and Myles lets her arrow fly, sinking it into the animals shoulder. Quickly, grabbing and notching another arrow, the red haired girl fires it immediately, not bothering to aim.
The second arrow hits a tad off where she would've preferred it to land, lodging high in the cats side. Gunfire rang out once more as the cat dives back into the grass. It's silent for a beat, the only sounds being from the Arker's heavy breathing. Myles inches in front of Bellamy a bit more and the man reaches a hand out to grab the arm that's not gripping the wood of the bow.
This very quickly proves to be a bit disastrous. Leaping from the tall grass in front of them is the panther, and with Bellamy's hand gripping her right arm, her arrow plucking and firing arm, the redhead makes a split-second decision to save their lives by other means. Kicking her foot back and hooking it behind Bellamy's leg, Myles drops her bow and reaches for her trusty, life-saving, makeshift knife with her now empty left hand.
Tripping Bellamy and herself to the floor to avoid the panther currently coming at them ferociously, the dark brown haired man falls back first, the redhead toppling on top of him. Myles flings her arm out to throw the knife as hard as she can in the general direction of the animal and a gunshot rings out in the clearing, followed by several clicks of an empty gun. The panther falls dead in front of the two on the ground.
"Thank you," Bellamy breathes to the redhead on top of him.
"You don't need to thank me for saving your life, Bellamy Blake," the girl repeats his words from earlier, mischievous glint dancing in her hazel eyes.
The Blake boy shakes his head as she moves off of him and sits on the dirt by his legs.
"Now she sees you," Bellamy tells the dark skinned man as he drops the now-empty gun on the ground.
"Hurry up," Clarke calls to the teens in the tree, and Bellamy stands, offering his hand to help Myles off the ground.
Adrenaline is a funny thing. It can slow down time, speed it up, warp reality completely. As quickly as it floods through the red haired girl, it leaves her, allowing her to start to feel the burning in her left arm. Choosing to ignore it, Myles goes to grab his hand with her left, causing the burning to become a searing hot pain. Hissing and pulling a face, the redhead drops her left arm and wraps her right hand around where the pain is emanating from in her upper arm.
Bellamy watches as bright red pours from between Myles' fingers, a stark contrast against her pale skin.
"Whoa, woah," dropping to his knees and putting pressure on the girl's arm. "Clarke!"
The blonde is there in an instant, and before anyone can say anything, Myles cuts in.
"I'm fine," the exasperated face the Blake brother pulls would be funny, if she wasn't so worried about her best friend. "Help him."
"I can't do anything until he's down from the tree," Clarke explains, kneeling down beside the girl. "Let me see."
Bellamy removes his hands straight away, but hazel eyes look to Jasper and the boys still in the tree before releasing her grip, reluctantly. The amount of blood already on Bellamy's hands makes the redhead feel bad, and she pulls out the piece of parachute from inside her jacket and hands it to the man as Clarke pokes around, delicately.
"You shot her!" The blonde exclaims angrily at Wells, who hadn't moved from his position on the other side of the tree.
Bellamy tears off a scrap of fabric, a pinched expression on his face.
"She jumped in the way!" The boy protests quickly.
"How do you miss every fucking shot," Finn shouts down, "but manage to hit her?!"
"Myles," the way Wells spits her name doesn't go unnoticed by the group, "should've stayed out the way!"
"What is wrong with you?!" Clarke demands angrily as Murphy shouts an elegant "fuck you" at the privileged boy.
"It's just a scratch," the redhead says calmly as Bellamy rises to his feet, eyes locked on Wells, the two of them seething.
Happy birthday, Aggie.
"Keep this covered until we get back, okay?" Clarke orders the teen, tightly wrapping the torn off piece of parachute around Myles jacket-clad arm.
The redhead salutes the blonde, and rolls forward to her feet. Clarke hops up, and makes her way over to Bellamy, helping the man lift the dead animal onto half of the parachute scrap. Myles stands there awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Frantic shouts from above grab their attention.
"Can someone grab his feet," Finn grunts out, the two teens trying to hold Jasper up.
Bellamy and Wells are quick to comply, the Blake brother tossing the rest of the fabric to Clarke as he went. Pitiful moans ring out from the injured teen as he's slowly manhandled out of the tree. The second he's on the fabric on the ground, both girls are beside him, crowding over him. Pale hands stroke the boys face, but Myles is unsure whether she's doing it to comfort him or herself.
Clarke decides she can't do much here, and they pick up the two bits of parachute and make their way home. Clarke, Finn and Wells carry Jasper, while Murphy and Bellamy haul the panther behind them. Myles had tried to aid the three in carrying her best friend, but Bellamy and Clarke loudly refused. So, instead, the redhead walks beside them, hand clutching Jasper's tightly.
Myles would be lying if she said she wasn't glad to not be carrying either parachute. Burning pain turned to sharp throbbing and a heavy ache as time passed, and the red haired girl is incredibly grateful she doesn't need to jostle the arm any. They're almost half way to camp, sun starting to set, when Wells tries to talk with Clarke. The blonde is in no mood for the teen, it seems, as she shuts him down repeatedly.
"You can't stay mad at me forever, you know," Wells tries.
"She can if you keep doing dumb shit," Finn retorts, causing Murphy to snort behind them.
"You're really trusting her?" Wells scoffs at Clarke, as he ignores Finns remark. "That's who you want to be friends with down here?"
"Why not?" The blonde says, aggravated.
"What's she ever done to you, huh?" Murphy calls from behind them.
"You know who she is, right?" Wells continues to badger Clarke, ignoring everyone else's input.
Myles just keeps patiently walking, eyes either ahead or on her injured friend. Not once looking at any of the others, even as she felt their eyes on her.
"She's a hero," Bellamy declares loudly, the redhead snorting obnoxiously in response.
"A 'hero'?!" The dark skinned boy bellows, stopping and turning to the man.
"Myles helped people," Murphy grits out, "more than you or your father ever did!"
The group can't move forward anymore, not without Wells contributing, so the red haired girl drops Jaspers hand and grabs the parachute material with her good arm instead, tugging lightly to get the blondes attention. Finn, who's manning the front end of the parachute, gets the hint instead and starts walking again, leading the group.
"Oh, how noble of you," Wells turns on the redhead, mocking her. "Stealing from the rich to give to the poor."
"Is that what you're so upset about?" Finn spits back. "That she took from the privileged?"
Sighing heavily, the redhead continues on, trying her best to stay out of whatever mess this will result in. Knowing full well that while the other delinquents might not know what happened the day she got arrested, Wells sure as hell did.
"Myles didn't just take from the privileged," Clarke interjects, frustrated, "she helped your mother. Does that mean nothing to you?"
"You helped his mother?!" Murphy shouts, turning back to Wells, "you fucking lo-"
"She didn't just steal from the privileged," Wells interrupts, "she stole from the sick! She killed people!"
Murphy loses it, throwing his end of the panther down and, ignoring Bellamy's warning to 'cool it', marches right into Wells' face.
"Say that again," the brunette threatens, shoving the teen. "Say it a-fucking-gain."
Wells shoves back, and the two boys' pushing knocks the parachute with Jasper in it, causing the boy to groan loudly in pain. Myles shushes the teen, struggling to help hold the parachute now that Wells has completely abandoned it. Bellamy's in the middle of the two boys within seconds, throwing them apart and raising his hands in warning.
"Of course you're helping her," Wells accuses. "You don't care about the law! Care about the people!"
"I came, didn't I?" The man replies, darkly. "Myles helped my family for years. She saved us. Gave up her life, so we could have a chance."
"Myles helped your mother," Finn calls back to Wells, "have some decency, won't you?"
"She didn't help my mother," the boy claims steadily, "she was dying."
"Myles made sure the last days your mother had didn't have to be spent in pain," Clarke reasons, the redhead flushing the colour of her hair in embarrassment.
"Myles took medication and wasted it," Wells retorts, shocked the blonde is taking the red haired girls side. "Took it from people who could've used it and lived!"
It's silent for a moment, calm hazel eyes looking into the spiteful teens dark eyes for the first time since they left the clearing. Realising no one in the group agrees with him, Wells scoffs and shakes his head. Roughly grabbing the parachute material, and marching forward, forcing the other three holding it to move as well. Myles hears, more than sees, Bellamy scoff as the two behind them pick up the panther again.
"What about what your mum wanted?" The smooth, deep voice of the older Blake sibling asks after a moment. "What if she didn't want to be in pain in her last moments with you?"
Myles' heart stutters, and she tries to not show it.
Wells Jaha is a firm believer in the law, a real colour-inside-the-lines type. The boy grew up in a family heavily politically involved, so much so, that it's become a fundamental part of who the young man is today. Seeing life as black and white, the teen struggles to comprehend anything that doesn't align with his 'sacrifice the few to save the many' mentality.
It's why he butts heads with Bellamy and Myles so often.
"She still would've died," answers Wells.
All this talk of mothers makes the heart-shaped locket around Myles's neck feel heavy, and the familiar feeling of sorrow floods through her veins. Turning her head to check on how Murphy is doing, the teen having a complicated relationship with his mother at best, she sees his eyes on the ground, a pinched expression on his face. Satisfied he's not gonna lose it completely again, Myles turns back to face where she's going.
"That's cold, man," Finn tosses casually over his shoulder, shrugging. "I'd rather my mum not be in pain."
"Even if it meant someone else had to be?" The privileged boy presses.
"She's my mum," the shaggy haired teen replies easily.
The sun had completely set, darkness enveloping the Arkers, by the time they arrived back at camp. Myles left arm is still throbbing painfully, as if it had its own heartbeat. The group can hear the delinquents as they approach, lively chatter fluttering through the air. It appears the teens had been busy during their absence, trees lopped down and the bare bones of what the redhead can only assume is supposed to be a wall make a line around the camp.
The prisoners around the campfires come into sight, just as a teen announces their safe return to the camp. Monty appears suddenly, looking even more anxious than when they left.
"Is he..." deep brown eyes look to Myles' hazel ones horrified, as Octavia rushes over, standing between Finn and Wells to see Jasper.
"He's alive," Clarke supplies quickly. "I need boiled water and strips of cloth for bandage."
The teens carrying Jasper hurry into the dropship, Monty at their heels. Myles can hear murmurs spread throughout the camp as Bellamy and Murphy lug the panther wrapped in parachute to the main fire pit.
"Who's hungry?" Bellamy bellows following the dull thud of the panther hitting the ground, excited cheers fill the camp as the hungry teenagers get a glimpse of their dinner.
"Courtesy of The Ghost," Murphy shouts, and the delinquents yell their praises for the redhead.
Myles can smell the meat being cooked, but she can't bring herself to feel hungry. Gently wiping Jasper's face with a wet rag, her best friends mop of brown hair in her lap as Clarke works on the boy's chest. Hazel eyes look up at Monty as he stands over the girls tending to his best friend, the light from the dropship accentuating the teens wound.
"He'll be okay," the redhead promises as she meets his distressed gaze, looking back down at the teen in her lap. "Won't you, JJ?"
"I'll need to have a look at that arm," the blonde reminds Myles, eyeing the injured arm that hangs limply at the redheads left side.
No sooner than the words are out of her mouth, Monty is kneeling by Myles's side. Gentle hands grab her injured arm, sharp pain blooming at the movement and the red haired girl makes a face. Delicate hand never ceasing in her soft cleaning of the teen in her lap, dragging the rag down his neck lightly.
"What the hell happened to you?" Monty asks, carefully unwrapping the wound and trying to peer at it through the tear in her jacket.
It's not the first time the teen has ever seen his best friend hurt, in fact, he'd seen it a bit too much. The thought haunts Myles, and has from the very beginning, the idea that most of the boys' memories of her involve injuries of some nature. It's precisely this reason why the girl instinctively shrugs, and mutters a quiet nothing.
"Wells shot her," Finn answers, appearing from the ladder and making his way over to them.
Monty drops the makeshift bandage in shock. Myles's arm had stopped bleeding hours ago, the wound seeping only whenever she moved it, yet the bandage was still damp. The wet squelching sound the soaked material makes as it hits the metal floor of the dropship is enough to make the girl's skin crawl.
"He what?!" The black haired boy screeches, and Myles is taken aback, not expecting the outburst from her non-confrontational friend.
"He didn't mean to," Myles tries to placate, waiting a moment before furrowing her red eyebrows and adding. "I think."
"Wells has a gun?!"
"It was Bellamy's," the redhead replies as Finn sits down next to Clarke. Myles dumps the dirt covered rag on the floor beside her, and moves her hand back to Jasper, stroking his hair gently.
"Yeah," the shaggy haired boy confirms, "and it's useless now."
The blonde girl's hands are still poking and prodding the injured boy, inspecting everything she can. Finn silently holds his hand out, a small trinket held in his fingers, as Monty is distracted cleaning the redheads arm. It's metallic, made from scraps around the dropship and bent into the shape of a deer with two heads. The brunette waits patiently, eyes watching as the blonde accepts his offering, picking it up with a little laugh.
Brown eyes light up at Clarke's amazed smile and his eyes stay on her face as she sets the gift on a seat beside her. Monty and Myles share a knowing look, the best friends could see plain as day the two were falling for each other.
It's only an hour later when Bellamy comes into the dropship. Myles's arm had been stitched up and wrapped in a clean rag. Finn and Clarke had left not long before the Blake sibling had entered, leaving the three best friends alone. Sitting shoulder to shoulder against the dropship wall in front of their wounded friend, hazel and brown eyes look up to greet the man. Not coming empty handed, Bellamy holds a stick with cooked meat at the end out to the redhead.
"How's he doing?" Deep voice enquires as a red eyebrow is raised in question, pale hand not moving to reach for the meat.
"The same," Monty answers blankly.
Bellamy waits a beat more, his own dark brown eyebrows flying up as Myles makes no move for the food.
"Take the food," the Blake brother orders lightly and the red haired girl obliges.
"As you wish, your majesty," Myles reaches out and takes the stick from his outstretched hand, immediately passing it to the teen beside her. "Not hungry."
Bellamy straightens and sighs disapprovingly, but doesn't stop the black haired teen from devouring the food.
"Thanks," the girl says anyway, hazel eyes locked with deep brown.
"Figured you might want some after what you did to take it down," the man explains, jutting his head to the side slightly.
"I thought Wells had the gun?" Monty asks around a mouthful of panther.
"He's a horrible shot," Myles deadpans, rolling her head against the wall, lazily, to face her best friend with concerned eyebrows.
"That bad?" He snickers quietly in response.
"Oh, yeah," Bellamy asserts, "emptied my gun. Missed every shot."
This gets a loud laugh from Monty, who just about chokes on his food. The redhead watches her friend with an amused smile, before rolling her head back to Bellamy and shaking it half-heartedly. Disrupted from the noise, Jasper let's out another low groan from Myles' lap.
Bellamy takes this as his cue to leave, bidding them a goodnight and disappearing through the dropships flap.
Myles undoes her red braid for the first time since landing on Earth, having been either too exhausted or too busy to care much, and brushes her fingers through her long hair. Undone, her hair reaches the floor, ends dragging along it as she combs through the grimy mess. Face contorting in disgust, the red haired girl turns to her best friend as he finishes his dinner.
"Greenie," she says to get his attention, "I could use those yucca plants for shampoo, right?"
"Mm-hmm," Monty nods, standing. "Soap and shampoo. You could mix it with something else to give it a nice smell."
Myles hums in response, the black haired teen pulls the flap covering the entrance and throws the stick outside before coming back to sit with his side against the redhead again. A few quiet minutes later, a young blonde peers around the parachute, entering once her eyes see Myles.
Hours later, the two have changed positions. Lying on the metal floor, Monty using his and Jasper's jackets as a pillow and Myles using Monty's stomach as hers. Soon after introducing Charlotte to Monty, the blonde fell asleep against the wall farthest from the groaning teen. Slowly delinquents filter into the dropship, all but the two best friends staying as far away from the hurt boy as possible.
It's incredibly late when Wells enters the dropship, setting his sights on the two almost asleep teens right beside a pale Jasper. His heavy footsteps alert Myles and her hazel eyes look up at him as he approaches her. Rising up to rest on her right elbow, she raises her red eyebrows at the teen standing awkwardly above her.
"I'm –"
"You don't need to apologise, Wells," Myles cuts him off in a quiet voice and he fidgets.
"I am, though," the privileged teen insists, voice calm.
"So am I," the redhead replies sincerely, not feeling the need to elaborate, as if she's content with whatever way the dark eyed boy takes it.
Neither say anything more for a moment, the awkward silence weighing heavily on the room.
"How's the arm?" Wells asks, careful not to disrupt the sleeping teens around them, as he shifts his feet uncomfortably.
"I was only trying to help," Myles explains in a remorseful tone, ignoring the teen's question. "I never meant any harm."
Something flashes across the boys face, and it's gone too quickly for the red haired girl to put a name on it. Nodding absentmindedly, almost as if to his own thoughts instead of the girl's words, he turns to leave.
"Good night."
"G'night," she repeats, waiting until Wells leaves before lying back down.
"What was that about?" Monty asks quietly, voice vibrating Myles' head lightly as he speaks.
"An argument we had on the way back," she whispers back.
"What'd you apologise for?"
"The Ghost," Myles answers, "he thinks I'm practically Satan."
Monty chuckles lightly at the comment. A comfortable silence taking over the dropship of sleeping delinquents.
"Hey, Aggie?"
The redhead hums, half asleep, at the sound of her nickname coming from her best friend.
"Happy birthday," Monty whispers, wordlessly thanking Marcus for making sure the teen had made it to today, her eighteenth birthday.