This chapter was originally over 5K words, so I decided to split it into two. Sorry it took so long-these two chapters HATED me. Like, we were not getting along. There was rivalry. And that last episode did not help :'((Oh, also, this is not edited so ignore any errors.) Please review!

I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, rooted to the spot. I thought back to the anxiety I'd seen in Bellamy's eyes. Had he known?

Anger surged inside me. Hot and boiling. It made my mouth go dry and turned my blood to ash. A metallic tang filled my mouth and I was suddenly walking over, hands clenched, teeth ground so hard my jaw hurt.

At my approach, Octavia's eyes met mine, a confused expression already on her face. Did she know who she was talking to?

"Hey, Clarke," she said, a little dubious. She glanced between the door over my shoulder and me. "Were you . . . going to detention?" the bewilderment in her voice was twofold.

Yes, she knew.

"Nope," I answered automatically. Not anymore. Not with him right here. I didn't care how much time had passed.

I looked at the man opposite of her. His eyes were the same color as Octavia's and at first glance, they looked inviting. But there was a glacial edge to them, cold and sharp. He smelled of prison and, unsurprisingly, tobacco.

"Hi," he said, and gave another scratch of his temple. He gestured to Octavia before holding his hand out to me. "I'm Jeremy, but people call me Jae."

I looked at his outstretched hand, tanned and wrinkled like old paper. No scars.

I don't think I can touch him, I thought. How do you shake the same hands that had once been used to beat a little boy?

I caught Octavia's look of apprehension. There was a flash of fear there, like she'd read my mind.

I didn't want to alarm her, so I placed my palm in his, only for a moment, and pulled it back before his fingers could curl around my hand. I stifled a shudder that ran up my back.

"I'm just here for a short visit." He smiled at me, but it seemed strained, as if his lips didn't quite know what they were doing.

I felt like something made of stone, everything in me as taut as pulled wire. My walls were raised so high they could compete with China's.

I looked into his glacial eyes. At the barb I saw, drifting just beneath the surface. A large freckle decorated the bridge of his nose.

He may have been a nervous man, here, in front of his daughter, but I knew what he was capable of. I'd seen it for myself.

"I need to speak with Octavia," I said, bypassing the expected it's nice to meet you. Because it wasn't. And I wanted Octavia away from him. Forget whether or not it was my place to enforce it.

I motioned for her to come with me, but a look of hesitation crossed over her face. Her brows furrowed and she looked between me and her father, torn. And it suddenly hit me: She knew who he was, but that didn't mean she knew of all the things he'd done. For all Octavia had understood as a kid, her father had been sick. And now he wasn't. Maybe to her, he was nothing more than a distant recollection; just a man who had made some bad decisions in his life.

But to me, he was a monster.

I tried to convey my message through my eyes alone. I hoped Octavia saw the plea. The desperation. The warning I felt, running over me like ice water. "It's about your brother," I added, like that would help, and I cut a quick glance to Jae, gauging for any change in expression. It was small. Marginal, even, but I thought those glacial eyes turned wary. They narrowed, ever so slightly.

"Come on," I said to Octavia as gently and lax as I could muster. My skin crawled as my insides burned. "It'll just take a sec"—

I was cut off by the sound of footsteps and I barely had enough time to look over my shoulder before Bellamy rounded the corner.

He still wore that hard, anxious expression, but when his eyes first landed on Octavia and then me, and finally on Jae, it slid from his features. He came to a complete stop, so suddenly that his bag lost its purchase on his shoulder and slipped down his arm. It fell to the ground with a muffled thump. His face read only shock for a moment. And then, it rearranged into one of pure, ardent, fury.

He was over to our small group in just a few strides.

His hands were balled at his sides and they shook with silent tremors. His otherwise tanned face had gone pale, but it was clear to me Jae should've been the most intimidated. Because looking up at Bellamy, he must've realized his mistake; that the little boy he'd used to beat had grown up, into a bigger man than him.

Bellamy inserted himself between Octavia and their father—between me and their father, until I could only see his leathered back and a bit of his profile.

No one said anything but I could feel the heat rolling off of Bellamy. All the times I'd seen him mad before were virtually nothing compared to this. That had just been anger. Perhaps fury. But this...this was rage. And I wondered how Bellamy was maintaining such control over it.

"Maureen will be here to pick you up. Go wait for her," he said, in a voice composed of steel. It took me a moment to realize he was speaking to his sister.

She cast a glance first at him and then at me, as if I had any jurisdiction here.

"But"—

"I said go." he told her, and this time, Octavia heeded the warning in his voice and scurried down the hall.

Only when she was gone did Bellamy force his attention on the other man. But Octavia's absence only seemed to fuel the fury and I saw Bellamy's control slipping.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his words slow like they were taking an effort in themselves alone.

Jae shrugged. Looked away from Bellamy. Met his eyes again. He displayed all signs of discomfort and shoved his hands in his pockets. I'd seen Bellamy do that over and over and I hated I found a similarity between the two of them.

"A father's got a right to see his children," said Jae tilting his head up in an attempt to make himself just a little taller.

A strained breath came from Bellamy and I saw his shoulders tense even more. "You think you have a right to that title after everything you've done?" he growled, hands shaking and shaking and shaking. "You aren't a father," Bellamy said. He took a small step forward. "You're a coward, who decided the only way to see his little girl was to sneak up on her in school. In public. And now that you have, it's time for you to go."

From around Bellamy, I watched Jae stare back at his son, and though shorter and weathered, it was clear this man was bullheaded. Like a rock lodged in ice. Try to remove it, and the whole surface breaks.

"I'll go," he said. "But I'm not leaving for good. This isn't the last time you'll be seeing me, Bellamy. You'd do best to get used to the idea of having me around again."

I felt the heat build in Bellamy. The fury and hatred, pent up like Pandora's Box.

On instinct, I stepped out from behind Bellamy and planted myself in between them, just enough that if he planned to try anything, he'd have to push me out of the way to deliver it. I couldn't stand the thought of him getting in trouble at school, not after all the work he'd done to get where he was. I couldn't stand the thought of Bellamy losing anything more to this pitiful person who'd already taken more than anyone had the right to.

Jae cast me a look that almost looked grateful—as if I were acting on his behalf— and I squirmed in my skin, feeling disgusted. I turned briefly to Bellamy and caught the fire in his eyes. It didn't only burn like usual. It raged. And I knew, with every fiber, every nerve and cell in my body, that he wanted to break the man that stood before him. I could've sworn that for a minute, his gaze glowed red.

"Not here." I whispered, and gave a very small shake of my head. Bellamy didn't answer. He didn't even look at me. But I knew he understood.

"Get off school property," he hissed. The quivering of his hands seemed to rattle so deep, it shook in his voice. "Before I throw you off it myself."

Jae lingered for another moment, eyes of ice staring into ones of fire. He looked like he wanted to say more, but finally did something smart, and kept his mouth closed. He nodded once and took a step back. Then another and another. He turned his back on us and strode away.

The minutes ticked by and even when Jae disappeared down the hall and out the door, Bellamy didn't relax. He stayed as immobile as a statue.

I didn't say anything. I just waited.

Then his stone facade cracked and he was walking away, going in the same direction of Jae and shoving the doors open. They hit the outside walls. I followed after him, uncertain. Worry gnawed in the pit of my stomach.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, having to speed-walk to keep up with him.

Bellamy didn't look at me. "Nothing." He strode to the white Honda in the lot. He unlocked it and dropped inside. The rattled from the force he used to shut it.

Wind nipped at my hair as I looked between the passenger door and Bellamy. I didn't want him to do anything rash. He was angrier than I'd ever seen him; a ten-point earthquake that had the potential to demolish everything around him. And I didn't want him to do something he'd regret.

I didn't even think. I just got in the car.

In my periphery, I saw Bellamy turn his heated gaze on me. I was surprised I didn't catch fire. "Get out, Clarke."

I kept my eyes fixed ahead. "No."

"Get out of the car!"

I shook my head slowly. "No."

"What is wrong with you?" he practically bellowed, voice reverberating through the small space. Maybe it was in my imagination, but I thought I felt the seats quake.

"Do you think you have a right to just do whatever you want? Are you that desperate for a friend? I'm not your friend! And I'm not your boyfriend, because in case you've forgotten, he's dead!"

My eyes snapped to him and a gaping hole appeared in my chest. The scar ached. The metal bird resting under my jacket seemed to go a few degrees colder.

Bellamy stilled, as if finally registering his own words. "Clarke, I"—

I held up a hand, silencing him.

I almost got out of the car. I was very close, my pinkie wrapped around handle. I pulled both of my hands into my lap. "Take the dirt path a mile up the road," I said in a quiet voice, swallowing everything I wanted to say.

He faltered, confusion flashing in his eyes. "What?"

I looked away from him and out the window. "Just drive. I have an idea."

It seemed I was going full-masochist today.

********

"A pond?" Bellamy deadpanned, roughly ten minutes later, five of which we'd spent walking through thin trees and over potholed dirt. It was only half past three but the coming of winter was already painting in the sky in shadow.

Before us stood a small pool of water, connected by a rickety old dock. The dock was sun-bleached and windswept, and tilted more to one side. A river met it from the far side. My dad had come up here to fish on more than one occasion.

I caught the edge of annoyance in Bellamy's voice, like he'd expected more. "Why are we at a pond?"

I pulled off my shoes and coat. I dropped them on the dock, uncaring where the landed. "For this," I said, and jetted past him. I barely registered his call of surprise before I launched myself from the creaking boards and into the water.

It was like bathing in needles. The freezing temperature stabbed at my feet, my chest, my head. It made me dizzy and punched the air from my lungs. But it did its job.

My thoughts vaporized, turning to dust that settled on the pond's floor like silt. I couldn't conjure images in my mind. There was just the cold, like when I was in the shower after Finn. Like when I sat on the porch steps without a jacket.

The cold's bite grew viscous, wrapping around my feet like lead and I clamored up until I broke the surface.

"Clarke!" Bellamy shouted from somewhere behind me. I was turned around, but heard his footsteps on the dock. I shifted until I faced the right direction. Droplets of water crowded my eyelashes, blurring my vision.

"Are you insane?" he bellowed. His eyes were wide and on me. Some of his earlier fury had ebbed and an anxious Bellamy stood in his place now. "Get out!"

My legs ached as the treaded the sharp waters. My hands looked as white as eggshells. "Get i-in," I stuttered, voice hoarse from the cold.

Bellamy just looked at me. "What?"

"Get in."

Bellamy shook his head, looking away from me and towards the brush that surrounded the pond. His anger returned. "I'm not in the mood for this, Clarke."

I splashed water over his shoes.

He glared down at me and took a step back. "Knock it off!"

"I'm not getting out until you come in," I said, already feeling my legs start to weaken. The water hiked up to my jaw. "You have to trust me."

Bellamy shook his head in disbelief. I wondered if he'd turn and leave right then. He seemed to debate whether or not to. But then his eyes drifted back to me.

I ducked under the water again.

The cold ran its fingers over my skull. My feet nearly skimmed the bottom of the pond. What little breath I'd regained disappeared once more.

When I resurfaced. Bellamy was gone.

A sinking feeling began in the pit of my stomach. But then something exploded from the water, and I looked to my side. Bellamy's angry eyes met mine, hair plastered to his forehead and so dark, it almost looked black.

He spit out water and cursed. His breathing turned labored as he grew accustomed to the chill. He glared at me. "Is it some life mission of yours to push me over the edge?" he asked.

My hands moved in a circular motion, but the movement didn't help keep away the cold. "You needed to cool off," I told him.

Bellamy tossed up his hands and nearly went under again. Drops of water sprayed down around us. "Well thanks to you, I think I've managed that just fine."

I kept my voice neutral. "But you're not as mad as you were. You don't feel like you want to kill someone."

"Are you trying to give me ideas?" He shook his head to clear the curls from his eyes.

"Don't tell me you weren't close," I said, my voice breathy from the exertion. The cold wrapped around my chest like a vice. "You wanted to kill him right then and there. I saw it."

"Of course I did!" he snapped. The corners of his lips were beginning to turn pale. "You want me to say I didn't? That the thought of hitting him until my knuckles bled didn't enter my mind? No, you just want me to be the bigger person. Well I'm not. I want him gone. That man is everything I hate."

My foot grazed a rock and I winced, but the chill quickly lulled the tender area into numbness. "You think I blame you for that? I just"—

"And I didn't need you stepping in like some personal mediator of mine," he added voice as searing as the cold.

I paused, just enough for water to spill into my mouth. I spit it out. "I didn't want you to do anything stupid."

"So you decided the way to remedy stupid decision-making was to fish for hypothermia?"

I silently admitted to myself that it was a reckless call, but I didn't regret it. Better him taking his anger out on cold water than his chances at receiving his scholarship. "No," I said. "Cold just helps shock the system and brings down your blood pressure." Internally, I winced at the medical talk. It was habit. One that was proving difficult to break.

Bellamy didn't say anything for a moment, caught between his dying anger and the freezing water. He shook head, whether in disbelief or exasperation, I couldn't tell. "I'm sorry," he finally said. Though a ribbon of anger was still laced in his voice, I could tell the majority was no longer aimed at me. "For what I said in the car. This is probably deserved."

Water wove through my fingers, my hands buzzing from the low temperature. "It wasn't a form of punishment."

"It feels like one."

I rolled my eyes, and he looked from me and back to the shore. He jerked his head towards it. "C'mon," he said, and started back to the dock.

I hesitated a moment before following after, slow and sluggish. His hand latched onto the dock and he hoisted himself up. Water poured over the wooden planks. The dock tilted more to the side.

When I was close enough, he reached out a hand to me and I eyed it uncertainly. Then I placed my palm in his. It was the same one his father had shook.

Bellamy grabbed onto my other hand and pulled me up. The cool air felt as cold as the water and I shivered. I didn't need a mirror to know my lips were blue.

At my side, Bellamy's shoulders shook, too. I hurriedly collected my shoes and discarded bag, the planks creaking under me. I waited for Bellamy to do the same but when I saw he held only his jacket, I looked at his feet.

He still had his shoes on.