❝ Hell isn't where you go when you die.
It's what you become when everything you love has been taken away. ❞
[ sequel to 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 ]
[ the 100 / season two ]
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A Promise;
𝐌ount Weather.
The targeted drop-site for the Exodus ship. The place which was supposed to keep them safe, stacking abandoned supplies enough to last them for years.
Apparently, there's a genuine society. People still live there, inside the mountain.
And they're keeping forty-seven of her people trapped behind their walls.
"...including Jasper and Monty," Abby trails off, watching the girl's reaction very carefully.
Clove had been stunned to see her friend's mother there; alive. So stunned she'd physically stumbled backward- as if witnessing a ghost drifting through the dropship.
A small flicker of hope had surged through her system; maybe her parents were alive as well? Yet, that burning flicker was extinguished by a subtle shake of Abby's head. No.
Then, Bellamy had insisted they should make their way back. Back. Clove immediately tensed in confusion. The word echoed in her ears for a while, her brain striving to make sense of it.
For the first time in a long, long time, their definition of back would indicate the Ark. The Ark made it to the ground.
With one arm slumped around Bellamy's neck, she clings her body to his. Both out of the desire to feel him there with her, and the heaving fatigue bombarding her limbs. She doesn't pay attention to the forest enveloping them. Not the bird chirps, nor the rustling of leaves.
Her eyes are lacking just as much emotion as the rest of her features. Her mind had drifted away somewhere during Abby's report of their current situation. Reapers. Mountain men.
Yet, there's one thing they've purposely managed to avoid-
"Bellamy."
Her voice cracks due to the moments gone by without her using it at all. She doesn't notice the way she'd carelessly cut Abby off. She doesn't care to apologize either, not finding any motivation in listening any further.
The man halts while shifting his entire focus to her. She's clearly drained; dark bags are pulling on the skin under her usually vivid eyes- the eyes she's now barely able to keep open.
"What's wrong?" he rushes, gentle gaze analyzing every inch of her face. He holds her just a little tighter- as if she could vanish from his touch at any moment.
"I need you to tell me the truth," she whispers, focusing on the wonder now lacing between his eyebrows. "Tell me they're lying."
The man shares a concerned gaze with the others; his sister, Abby, and Lincoln. "Clove, you need to focus."
