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"Yeah, that bitch in the red dress took my memories, and now I'm a follower of another bitch in red. Kinda funny how everything comes into a circle."
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Taking one look at the past of Phoenix Byers, one would describe it as...
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❝It's down to this.
I've got to make this life make sense,
And now I can't tell what I've done.❞
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Phoenix stayed behind in the tent with Clarke and Bellamy, he didn't exactly want to leave Obinka behind, wanting to do anything he could to try and help. He, however, didn't expect for Clarke and Bellamy to have a heart to heart in front of him. He sat across from Bellamy, busying his hands with a piece of cloth. To avoid looking at them while they talk, because he decided if they wanted it to be private, they would have kicked him out.
“Octavia's not the only one who's changed, you know,” Clarke told Bellamy, glancing towards him with a small smile. “You could've killed those prisoners in cryo, but you didn't. Diyoza would have killed me if not for you. Madi would be alone.” Clarke nodded at him. “You got that bunker open.”
“Who knew it would turn out to be pandora’s box,” Bellamy muttered, his gaze flickering back and forth between Clarke and Phoenix.
Phoenix avoided his gaze, awkwardly glancing down at the cloth in his hand. “It wasn't always like that,” he told the two of them. “I can't remember much from the beginning, but she was still the girl you knew.”
The two acknowledged his words, quiet for a minute, before Clarke smiled at Phoenix. “You said you can't remember our time on the ground?” She asked. He nodded his head with a curious glance at her. “Do you remember the first words you said to Bellamy when I climbed down the ladder on the dropship?”
Bellamy, seeming to realize what Clarke was trying to do, turned his face towards Phoenix. His heart clenched at the hopeful expression in his eyes, so Phoenix had to look away while he shook his head.
“Your first words to me,” Bellamy tried, taking over for Clarke. “Was that someone must be playing a joke on you because I was ‘too —”
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Bellamy’s voice faded away as did the usual surroundings of the tent. It felt like Phoenix was being transported through time and space. The dropship he was on lurched forward in a crash, sending Phoenix's body crashing into his restraints, his head smacking against the seat next to him. The quiet was the first thing he noticed as the seat belts retracted.
He followed the rushing delinquents down the ladder and pushed his way to the front of the crowd. His eyes land on the man standing in front of the crowd, telling them all to back up. The man was handsome and well-built, his closely-cropped hair was slicked back, and his eyes were the most intense shade of brown Phoenix had ever seen. He appeared to be in a guards uniform, which made Phoenix look at him with a raised eyebrow, before glancing towards the crowd surrounding him.
