𝐓𝐖𝐎, let's take on the world!

september 13th, 𝟐𝟏𝟒𝟗      

      𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑.

      Spending years locked behind cold metal walls that suck the life out of any who reside within them has created this image in her head — one where the ground is put on a pedestal, where it is the greatest thing to ever exist.

      Makayla spent her early years experiencing her days in her head, imagining a life where she wasn't breathing recycled air or living amongst the stars. She read book after book about life on Earth, ranging from non–fiction to dystopian, all giving her a detailed description about what her life could be like if she lived on Earth.

      She remembers a certain book clearly — the title of the work being lost somewhere in her memories, but the content still flowing through. She remembers how it detailed a paradise, one where everyone lived in peace. The only thing that could go wrong was the normal human mistake, but that is inevitable in any society.

      She set a goal for herself after that day — she would experience this at some point in her life. And at this moment, she can say that it seems like she's getting what she wants.

      Quinn has run off somewhere — telling the blonde that she wants to speak to her cellmate, Octavia. She watched her walk away, a smile forming on her face as the brunette found the girl not too far away, leaving herself and Sam where they were before.

      Their bodies lay in the grass, facing the sky, one admiring the clouds, and the other imagining how life would be like if he was still within the metal walls of the Ark.

      "Are you actually going to tell me how you got arrested, or is it just going to be a 'I got accused!'" She questions, looking over at her friend.

      He hasn't changed much since he last saw her. His hair is a bit longer, there's a new scar on his jaw — she assumes it's from working on something to do with mechanics, and she hopes it's not something else — and he seems to be carrying himself slightly differently than three years ago.

      He sighs, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. "Some kid stole from someone, and I guess I matched the description of that kid, so I got arrested instead of him" He explains, a frown forming on his face as he speaks. "And I tried to explain to the council that it wasn't me, but they didn't listen".

      She frowns. She knows how much Sam has wanted to be a zero–gravity mechanic — he's dedicated his entire life to achieving this dream, wanting to prove the masses wrong and show that he is a capable person, rather than what people had thought of him.

      And she remembers how he climbed the ladder to achieve greatness. Last time she had spoken to him, he was excelling in his programs, he had caught Sinclair's eye, and he had plenty of friends who were mechanics.

      She doesn't know how she'd feel to have all of that ripped away from her just because of a mistake.

      She doesn't know how she'd feel to work for years to be successful, just for her work to be ruined by the Council's lack of understanding.

      She doesn't know how she'd feel being ripped away from everything she ever wanted — when she just got it.

      She's happy where she is — but it doesn't seem like Sam is.

      "Are you really okay with being here?" She questions, seeing his frown and feeling his frustration, trying to sympathize with her friend as much as possible. She's been with him through thick and thin, through both of their hardships, but she's never seen him so conflicted about anything in his life.

      She's always known him to be goal–oriented, focused on his future, never being between two ideas in his life. He's always known what he's wanted, and what he deserves.

      He shrugs. "Is there really anything I can do about it now?".

      She stares forward. She's always wanted this — being on the ground, where she knows she belongs. But Sam hasn't. And she hadn't realized that someone could feel so torn and uneasy about being on Earth, especially when she's had it on a pedestal in her mind for years.

      "I guess not — but you can make the best of it, right?" She offers, trying to empathize with him. How can she live in peace with being on Earth if someone she loves and cares about isn't satisfied with it? Her dreams of paradise always included others being satisfied — so how can she move on if he is not?

      She's missed much of his work towards being a zero–g mechanic, almost certain that the three years they spent apart included many pivotal moments in his career. She wishes she could've been there — watching him grow and flourish into the person she's seeing now. She wishes things didn't turn out the way they did.

      But the universe has decided that the ground is where they meet again.

      He shrugs once more. "I guess — I could try to fix up the dropship, maybe. That thing's probably a piece of shit since the landing was so rough".

      She nods along. She's happy he's finding something — something to keep him attached to the place they're stuck in, so his mind isn't lost in space where he once was. She's happy that he won't be in complete misery on the ground — or at least by the looks of it, he won't be.

      She stays staring up at the clouds, while he stares ahead. She wants to find words to continue to console him, but she's not sure what — she wants to enjoy the planet she's been thrust onto, but she's not sure if she can in the way she wants to. How can this be a utopia if there are people upset? How can this be a version of paradise if others have negative emotions about the situation they're in?

      Sam looks back at her. "What about you, Mick? What'd you do to get here — your dad never really gave me a complete answer. It was all a bunch of incoherent nonsense any time I asked".

      She bites her cheek. She hasn't discussed what happened three years ago. She's bottled it up so far back in her mind that sometimes, she forgets that it ever happened. She didn't think she deserved to be punished — but maybe the solitary was good for her. Maybe the misunderstanding gave her the chance to reflect, to become who she is today.

      Maybe the universe had decided that she had to be arrested, that she wouldn't die that day, because she's meant to be on the ground.

      Or maybe she's making excuses, and there is so universe at play in her life. Maybe she's just lucky — lucky that her fate has been rewritten enough to end up with her body on the ground.

      "It was pretty much a misunderstanding. I —" She hesitates. Sam is her best friend — the boy she's shared secrets with for years. The boy that knows her inside and out. The boy that is so intertwined with her life that he feels more like a brother than a friend.

      So why does it feel so difficult to explain the truth about her arrest — what was truly going on in her mind that day? She doesn't know if she feels scared, or if she thinks she'll be judged. She shouldn't be — Sam is the boy she knows she can trust.

      She settles on the idea that it feels to fresh in her mind to explicitly say aloud.

      "I don't know" She glances over at him. "I wasn't in the right headspace. And it's hard to talk about, even if it's been three years".

      He nods along. "You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to" He suggests, his words being genuine — giving her the chance to process if she needs it, though her mind is screaming at her to continue to bury her thoughts deeper inside her brain. "You can tell me when you're ready".

      She smiles. "Y'know — I've missed this. Solitary was really boring without you".

      He laughs. A laugh that she hasn't heard in a long time — one that filled her childhood with great memories, ones that are the foundations of her behavior. "Classes were boring without you, too".

      Makayla rolls her eyes. "Come on, as if we would be in the same classes. Your ass is too smart for me".

      He shakes his head. "No! We would've had something together, it's not like we're on two different levels of intelligence or anything".

      She lets out a laugh. "Keep telling yourself that, Sam".

      She's missed this. The easygoing conversations that would happen between them, not a single care in the world for whatever's happening around them. Where they could lose themselves in the content of their discussions. Where they could forget about the things going on around them.

      What she hasn't missed is the commotion of being around an insane amount of people.

      The members of the camp — the delinquents that came down in the dropship — quickly ruin the peace–adjacent state that they've been in since they arrived. It's not a surprise to her — a group of one hundred teenagers having free reign on the area they've been forced into doesn't exactly equate to a peaceful setting.

      But her hope — the hope for peace she's had inside her for eighteen years — made part of her believe she could truly live without conflict. That she could leave conflict in the past, leaving everything rough and sour in her memories, locked away beyond imaginary walls for nobody to touch.

      "What the hell is going on over there?" She questions, hearing shouts and yells from many of the others she's been sent down to Earth with — all either encouraging or discouraging someone.

      Sam shrugs. "No clue — you want to check it out?".

      She lets out a sigh. "I guess".

      As the two stand up and walk over, the scene is quick to come into view. Punches. Shouts. Movements that do nothing, and others that do everything. Wells is fighting another member of the camp, one with medium brown hair and a stupid smirk on his face.

      They're fighting a fight that's completely useless.

      A fight that distracts from the beauty of what they're surrounded by — trees, leaves, flowers — things they didn't get to experience back on the Ark. They're breathing fresh air, seeing a blue sky, but yet they're arguing. They're fighting. They're shouting at each other for what seems to be no reason, rather than allowing themselves to experience a state of peace for a few seconds.

      And then someone jumps down from the dropship, causing gasps within the crowd — stopping the fight as they all stand still, waiting for the next move.

      "Kid's got one leg — how about you wait until it's a fair fight?".

      The boy backs off, leaving her to feel a slight wave of relief as the crowd finally dissipates. A useless fight brings benefit to no one — wasting their time and causing unnecessary drama within a crowd of teenagers that barely know how to act in the place that they're in, silver walls of metal having been their only surroundings for years.

      The girl from earlier, Octavia, walks into the small clearing, flirtatious look on her face. Makayla rolls her eyes, almost predicting where her actions are going, moving to leave the clearing before she witnesses anything she doesn't want to.

      "Hey, Spacewalker!" Octavia announces, grabbing the boy's attention and the rest of the crowd's. "Rescue me next".

      She tries not to gag.

      She lightly grabs Sam's arm, silently telling him that she thinks it's their time to go. Sam has always been the people person, rather than herself, his personality and his ambitions making him someone who can easily flow and converse with others. His dreams of going into zero–g have always given him the opportunity to make friends easily, something she's always wanted.

      The only people who would truly listen to her — that weren't her parents — were Sam and Wells, and even then, half the time she thought that Wells only listened because he pitied her.

      "So, uh, Mount Weather! When do we leave?" The same boy from earlier — the one dubbed 'Spacewalker' by Octavia — questions, his question being one with no ill–intent, but one where she's forced to do a double take.

      Were they not dropped on Mount Weather?

      She moves closer to them, Sam trailing behind her, placing her hands in her jacket pockets. Concern and confusion laces her expression as she tries to figure out why they aren't on the mountain the Chancellor had raved about through the screens in the dropship.

      "I thought we landed on Mount Weather?" She interjects, meeting the eyes of the same blonde girl who argued with Bellamy in the dropship. The girl has an expression that's almost all seriousness, not a single glimpse of relaxation appearing on her face.

      For someone who's in what seems to be a paradise, she doesn't seem to be happy. She doesn't seem to be excited, either, a direct contrast to what Makayla was feeling just a few moments ago.

      It's odd, seeing others who don't seem to idolize the ground like she does. It's odd seeing others, standing on the ground of something she's placed on a pedestal for years, not painted with smiles and joy. The innocence she's held onto wants to believe that the others want to, and they don't want to start fights, they don't want to cause disruption, and they actively want to experience the euphoria she's already felt.

      But her little bit of realism is arguing with that innocence.

      "They dropped us on the wrong mountain" The girl explains, quickly turning away and facing Wells, annoyance and seriousness painting her expression and infusing itself with her tone. She opens her mouth to say something, but the girl's thoughts are interrupted by another voice.

      Sam finds his place next to Makayla. "So we don't have any of the supplies we need?".

      She watches as the blonde sighs, turning back towards them, frustration painting her face. "Yes, and, we're leaving now" She turns back towards Wells, who's sitting on the ramp of the dropship, nursing his small injuries. "We should be back tomorrow with the food".

      She glances between the two, feeling unspoken of tension radiating off of them. Wells has a look on his face that screams that he only wants what's best, and wants to keep the peace between himself and the blonde, but the look on the girl's face doesn't say the same.

      "Clarke, how are the two of you going to carry enough food for a hundred?" Wells questions, speaking with logic and care, thinking about the logistics of the issue. Two people can't physically carry all the food they need, especially if it's an excruciating long walk to the mountain.

      They'd have to be insane if they think that doing that it possible.

      The 'Spacewalker' shrugs, turning around and grabbing the collars of two boys — cutting off whatever conversation they were apart of, bringing them into one that she would assume they didn't actively want to converse in. "The four of us" He glances at Clarke. "Can we go now?".

      "Sounds like a party. Make it five!".

      She watches Octavia stride into the clearing, her brother following close behind her. Quinn follows behind, hands in her pockets, a half smile painted on her face. "Make it six, actually".

      There's a pause, a second where she debates if she wants to join them or not. She could stay at the camp with her head in the clouds, and keep the peace she's dreamed of for years — or she can join them, and explore different areas of the ground, areas she hasn't seen or experienced. Areas that hold different parts of her dreams, different things that she's only been able to imagine before.

      "I'll go too" She offers, stepping forward, making her offer known. Clarke smiles at her, in a way where she takes it as a token of her appreciation for the offer.

      Sam is quick to follow up with his offer to go, giving a slight shove to Makayla, one she returns with a smile.

      She could talk on and on for hours about how much she loves the fact that she's been reunited with her best friend. It felt like eternity, staring at the same cold metal walls without a single person to talk to, boring herself to death.

      Every day had been the same, giving her the opportunity to learn to notice smaller things. On the ark, she learned to notice the intricacies of the walls and floors around her, and the smaller portions of food she'd receive every day as time grew closer to her eighteenth birthday. She learned to notice how bland her world truly was. She learned to notice how alone she truly was.

      "Hey — were you trying to take this off?".

      The blonde's voice brings her back down to Earth, the concern and annoyance wafting through the air as her eyes focus on the scene before her. Clarke is holding the boy's wrist, questioning why he's attempting to take off the matching silver wristband that everyone has — she doesn't exactly blame him, though, with the weight of having something else from the Ark lingering on their bodies feeling like they're still being controlled.

      "This wristband transmits your vital signs to the Ark" Clarke explains, and Makayla bites her cheek. She doesn't want to give the Ark the idea that she's dead — feeling the weight of the guilt her father would feel holding itself over her head. She's already mentally decided that she won't take the wristband off, not wanting to risk anything. "Take it off, and they'll think you're dead!".

      She hears Quinn scoff. "What does it matter if the Ark thinks we're dead? They're only continuing to find ways to control us — that's all I'm seeing from these wristbands".

      "Do you want the people you love to think you're dead? Do you want them to follow you down here in two months? Because they won't if they think we're dying" The blonde snaps back, but she only gets an eye–roll in return.

      Quinn steps forward, closing some of the distance between them. "Not all of us will be treated the way you will be if they come down. You only want them to come down because you'll be treated like a fucking princess".

      Beside Makayla, Sam lets out a huff, stepping forward and shoving them away from each other. "Arguing isn't going to help anyone — we need food. We need supplies. I can figure out ways we can use the dropship to our advantage if we just go get the supplies from Mount Weather" He argues to them, and she watches him glance between the two girls. "If anything, just argue on the way there".

      She rubs her temples. She's tired of the arguing — silently craving the utopia she once pictured. She didn't realize that Earth could hold so many conflicts. She didn't realize that people couldn't stop and appreciate what they're surrounded by.

      She wants them to change their attitudes — but she doesn't think they can. But she holds her head high, hoping she can keep hers.

—————————————————————————————

      𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆.

      Makayla finds it odd that she's truly on the ground, experiencing what the younger version of her had only thought was a far–off possibility, one that she used to hate to admit was something that seemed impossible.

      A part of her wishes she could laugh in people's faces — specifically the people who would laugh, harass, and frown at the sight of her, and her wide eyes that would sparkle whenever she could talk about the ground. When she would talk to them about her dreams — the grass, the trees, the animals. When she would ramble on and on about how Earth is amazing, placing it on a pedestal that was too high to reach.

      She's scared that she'll blink and she'll be back in her cell, waking up on her birthday, waiting for the guards to come and drag her to the cell. She's scared that she'll turn and she'll face the glass doors of an airlock, staring out at the members of the council and her father, if he would even be allowed to say goodbye.

      She's scared that she'll say the wrong thing and everything will fade into black, and she'll be surrounded by stars and far–off planets, no oxygen in her lungs. She's scared that she'll bleed and it'll be the wake–up call that sends her back to the Ark.

      "Now that, my friend, is game".

      She had almost forgotten that there are people walking with her, and she's on a journey to the mountain that the group was supposed to be sent to. She had almost forgotten that there's been small, bare–bones conversations around her, where they've exchanged names and learned a few facts about each other — entering the starting stages of becoming friends.

      She looks forward, seeing a bright colored flower resting behind Octavia's ear. A smile is on her face, her eyes staring up at Finn's — flirty glances being exchanged from the two.

      She's glad that others are enjoying the environment around them, rather than hating everything — like Clarke.

      The girl is walking in front of them, head held high, movements strategic and at a rapid pace. She's almost certain that she hasn't seen Clarke stop and take in what's around her, enjoying the planet that has been the subject of so many of Makayla's dreams.

      "That, my friend, is poison sumac".

      Her eyes dart over to Octavia, who's quickly yanking the flower out of her hair. Beside her, Quinn glances between the two, a scowl threatening to form itself on her face.

      She needs another argument to not happen.

      "The flowers aren't poisonous" Monty starts explaining, and she watches a wave of relief wash over the two girls a few feet away from her. "They're medicinal — calming, actually".

      Quinn clicks her tongue, sarcastically humming along to his words. "And you didn't think to say that before?".

      "Hey, guys, would you try to keep up?" She hears Clarke call, standing and staring, annoyance radiating off of her.

      She doesn't understand why she can't let them enjoy the surroundings around them — act like normal teenagers, for once, rather than prisoners controlled by the overbearing hands of the Council. She understands that the supplies are necessary, but it's going to be impossible for them to make it to the mountain and back before dark, which she thinks would give them some time to truly enjoy speaking to others, conversing in the open air, the watchful and overbearing eyes of the Council not being there.

      Octavia rolls her eyes. "Someone should slip her some poison sumac".

      Snorts and chuckles come from multiple members of the group, but she stays silent as she glances over at Sam. A slight frown has painted his face, his eyes lost in thought. She's seen this expression before — any time there was something bothering him, or something hanging over his head, he'd appear at her doorway with a frown, unspoken words surrounding thousands of thoughts threatening to spill out.

      He grabs her arm, lightly tugging her off to the side. "We really should try to hurry up and get those supplies" He starts saying, glancing between the rest of the group. "The camp is going to end up going to shit without them, and I really don't want to deal with the consequences of that".

      "We'll get there, eventually — I know we need to get those supplies, but not everyone can block out everything that's here. We're on Earth, Sam. We deserve the right to enjoy everything we can".

      They continue walking, keeping their voices low as they do so. "Maybe I'm just not fascinated with everything. It's cool, though".

      She frowns. "I get being upset about your arrest, but you'll find something here. There will be a benefit that applies to you here — I refuse to believe you won't be able to find something you can do".

      "Yeah, I guess" He shrugs. He glances at her with a knowing look, silently telling her that he's about to prove a point. "Once we get those supplies, though, I'll be able to start working on some of the parts of the dropship"

      She rolls her eyes. "Okay, okay, I get it — it's not like we're not walking to get the supplies, though".

      He nods, opening his mouth to say something, but interrupted by Finn's voice. "Hey — Sam, Makayla, what did you guys do to get busted?".

      She feels the color drain from her face. She hates that she's reacting this way — paling, thoughts swirling around her head that she wishes wouldn't. She doesn't like the reminders, the ones she thinks are curses. She doesn't like the thoughts, the ones that remind her of how truly off the rails her life was going.

      She wishes she could answer his question with ease. She wishes she didn't have a sob story that she's sure she wouldn't be able to get out without stuttering over her words, wishing to take back everything she says. She wishes she wouldn't get emotional over it.

      She wishes it never happened.

      "Makayla?" Finn questions, eyebrows raised. He must've noticed her reaction to the question, and after she wasn't able to immediately respond with ease — like everyone else in the group — it must've appeared as something odd.

      "They charged me with arson, even though it's — it's pretty much bullshit" She scrapes together, pushing the truth a little too far. "A misunderstanding".

      The stares of the group seem to burn into her soul.

      "How about you, Octavia?" Jasper questions, turning the attention away from her. "What'd they get you for?".

      Octavia doesn't turn back to look at him. "Being born".

      The girl quickens her pace, Quinn following behind, not without shooting a barely scraped together glare at the boy. She bites her cheek, Octavia's words hanging in the air. Her reaction, her tone, her rapid walk, all reminding her how the peace she thought she could get is hanging on by a thread.

      She doesn't want to think about how it could all fall apart within minutes — seconds, even. She doesn't want to think about the harsh truth that is the fact that there are so many of them that will easily start a conflict, disrupting the small bits of tranquility that they barely have in the first place.

      All she's ever wanted is hanging on by a thread. And as much as she tries to forget about that, it continues to hang over her head, attaching itself to her mind like a parasite.

      She's sick of her mind racing, everything being overthought by her brain. She's sick of her second–guessing, her mind deciding to think of countless possibilities of what could be and what could've been.

      She wants to be at peace. She craves it. All she's wanted this calm, peaceful life that's been on a pedestal in her mind for years — and she wants the Earth to give that to her.

      She doesn't want this to be a form of Hell.

      She doesn't want to be punished in a place that she believes to be a utopia.

      The sound of small gasps around her brings her back to Earth, and she realizes that they're admiring an animal — a deer, to be more specific. She remembers reading about them, learning their intricacies and unique features, hoping to see one in person.

      And there's one in front of her.

      She pinches herself, trying to make sure she's not dreaming.

      She crouches down beside everyone, finding a spot between Quinn and Sam. A smile has painted her face — something has finally distracted her from overthinking where she is, who she is, and why she's there.

      Finn steps forward, shifting leaves and branches under his feet. He makes it a few steps before snapping a twig, the sound echoing in the clearing, bouncing off the trunks of the trees. The deer turns at the noise, and Makayla has to hold back a gasp.

      But she's sure she looks horrified.

      Two heads. Burnt flesh. Not a thought behind the eyes of the deer, the image going against everything she dreamed of.

      This is not the peace she wants. She doesn't want the image of a mutated deer in her mind, which she's sure will stay forever. She doesn't want it to imprint itself in her brain, serving as a reminder that this is not the Earth of her dreams. She doesn't want it to hang over her head, telling her she can't get the paradise she wants.

      Maybe the people on the Ark were right — maybe her dreams are truly foolish, and the deer serves as a reminder of that.

      It stares at her, and to her, it seems like it's laughing at her. Reminding her that she isn't in a dream. Reminding her that she isn't in the books she used to read when she was younger.

      And it stands there, silently. Her mind absorbing the image.

      It leaves her sick to her stomach, painting itself as a memory in her mind, telling her she can't live the dreams she wants to — even if she tries to deny it.

      𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 —

my writing was so HORRID in the original version of this what the hell

added a scene with sam so they could truly reconnect & elaborated more on their dynamic, and hinted at something that's a big part of sam's development (try to guess what it is)

mwah love yall

𝟓𝟎𝟓𝟐 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒