Death and Co. // THE 100

crash landing

[CHAPTER FIFTEEN]

love at first fight

To say Atlas was hungover would be an understatement. His eyes craned open when the sun finally rose, awakening the boy from his deep slumber. It was both a blessing and a curse that he had woken up so ill. His first thought did not drift to his banished friend; however, the headache that banged against his skull was still as painful.

He lifted himself to a seated position, rubbing his eyes groggily before taking notice that the delinquents in the camp were much more rattled and bustling than usual. He could not share in their excitement, as the only thing he was hoping to do that morning was to not throw up the small contents of his stomach. He was, of course, unsuccessful. It only took a few moments before the young blonde had scrambled onto his hands and knees, and lurched his body as the alcohol from last night reappeared. He took a moment to lower his forehead to the ground, grasping at it tightly in a poor attempt to rid himself of the pulsing ache he was now stuck with.

As he raised his vision upward and observed the camp, a brow quirked, wondering what everybody seemed to be fussing about. He hoped it was not yet another grounder attack because he was confident he'd need some more time to recover before running for his life. But despite the sun having barely risen, everybody was extremely excitable. His eyes found the figure of Octavia Blake, who seemed rather on edge, and decided she was his best bet at figuring out what was going on. As he rose to his feet, he dabbled slightly and exhaled a breathy (and gassy) hum, making his way over to the girl - hoping he would avoid any more vomiting for the time being.

"Octavia, hey," he reached her and brushed a soft hand upon her arm to stop her in her tracks. She seemed both startled and agitated to be stopped but refrained from expressing her annoyance when he replied who it was. "Hey. You..." She hesitated, her eyes raking over his figure. "You look awful." Though harsh, it was true. Atlas' blonde hair was messy, some strands sticking to his forehead from sweat, leaves, and sticks littering his head. His eyes were bloodshot, but not a brighter red than the circles that surrounded them. He was covered in dirt from sleeping on the ground, and his hands and knees were colored nearly black from the earth. "Thanks, I'm feeling it." There was no humor in his words. "What's going on?" He questioned, shaking his head curiously and looking around them.

Octavia paused for a moment, tossing something up in her head. She bit her lip before huffing and taking the boy by the arm, dragging him towards the camp's two large gates. "C'mon, I'll explain on the way."

It seemed Atlas could not have chosen a worse night to get wasted. As he drowned his sorrows in booze, Octavia explained that a pod from the Ark had come down not too far from their camp, and everybody was dying to know who and what was inside it. Her older brother had told everybody to wait until morning to look for the said pod for some bizarre reason, but it seemed that the older Blake hadn't taken his own advice and wanted whatever was in that pod for himself. Which now left Atlas and Octavia trying their best to follow his tracks and catch up with Bellamy - a meeting Atlas was not so excited for.