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.*･｡. HOOD! .*･｡.
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019.
LATE APOLOGIES.
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    "Hey— jackass!"

    "Hi, birdy." Bellamy swayed his arms, "You takin' a walk in the woods?" He feigned shock when she yanked him to face her, eyes on her forehead; "Ouch— what happened to your head?" His face looked innocent, and she growled. "What—?"

A grunt came from him when his body jolted back, and the boy stumbled from the force of her palms against his chest. He glared.

    "What gives, angel face?" He spat.

    "You tell me!"

   Bellamy looked down at her, eyes focusing on her head. It began to bleed again, and he gelt his lips purse tightly, suddenly feeling a profound remorse for his actions. After all, he had been the one to do that to her. Robin looked tired, and wobbly, but most of all, she looked pissed. Really pissed. He couldn't blame her. Bellamy was it, the reason she was so pissed. He had knocked her and Jace out, let them lay in the woods for dead, where any grounder could go after the pod and find them instead. That, and he was sure they knew it was him who took the radio. Bellamy wasn't all too surprised; their anger was justified, and warranted, but he supposed he didn't care. At least, he shouldn't have. It was nothing new. Bellamy was selfish, a man who saved his own ass, even if it meant others died. All he did was for Octavia.

    "Bellamy!" Jace yelled.

"Jace," he sighed out, pinching his nose bridge. "I—"

Before Bellamy could finish, one fist caught his jaw and sent him reeling backwards, further than Robin's push. His hands flew up to aid his face, and he glared at Jace with hostility.

"That's for leaving us to die!" Angry, Jace hissed the words. The boy wasn't a naturally aggressive person, not from what they knew, and they were all taken aback by his actions. But, no one stopped it from happening. Not even Bellamy. Rather, they all watched Jace's fist draw back with his elbow for a second time, "And, this is for—"

"Jace! Enough!" Clarke finally intervened, "Where is it? Where is the stupid radio, Bellamy?"

"What, radio?" He kept up the act.

"They're getting ready to kill three hundred people, up there, to save oxygen!" Clarke raised her voice, "And I can guarantee you it won't be council members— it'll be working people. Your people!"

Robin's heart fell.

She was already angry. But, hearing that made her body heat up to a boiling point. Bellamy was self-serving asshole, but this was an all time low, even for him. He was going to get three hundred killed because he wanted to save his own ass for something. Innocents were going to die— working people, his people, her people. Robin's people were working people. They were mecha, and factory, and farm; all the people she knew, that she had tried to save as the hood. Where she came from was the working class; that was where she had been raised. Her father was working class, and he was still up on the ark with the rest of them. Her father was only a mech. He wasn't apart of the council class. They were going to kill three hundred innocents and her own father could easily be one of them.

All because of Bellamy goddamn Blake.

"Bellamy! Where's the radio?" Finn shoved him, next.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," voice gruff, Bellamy forced Finn off him. He had to stop himself from smacking across the face and turned around, trying to walk away from them. "Look: I don't have your stupid radio!"

"Hey!" Robin snapped, taking his jacket in the fist of her hands and yanking him back. She used all her strength to force him back into a tree, her eyes glaring up at him. "My father is up there!" He watched her glare soften, eyes now glassy and wet. Her hands were trembling as she gripped his shirt, and, for the second time that day, Bellamy felt guilty because of Robin. "My father is up there..." tone crestfallen, only a whisper. "Where is it, Bellamy?"

"Bellamy Blake?"

As Raven took the floor, Jace gently tugged Robin back. But they both watched with curious stares, despite the tension and anxieties.

"They're looking everywhere for you," she taunted.

"Shut up," he barked.

"Looking for him?" Robin echoed her words, staring between the pair of them expectantly. "Why?"

"He shot Chancellor Jaha," Raven told basically sang the words with so much pleasure, the sweet sugarcane dripped from each and every syllable.

   And suddenly, for the rest of them, it all made sense. All of it. It was the reason he had made every stupid decision, why he came to earth in the first place, and Robin wouldn't have been shocked if it was also the way he had made it into the dropship. Bellamy was an idiot, but this— Robin could hardly look at him. He had made that decision; he had shot the chancellor, and he was now attempting to cover up his tracks by ditching the radio. Bellamy Blake was an ark murderer; he had banned Murphy for Charlotte's death after trying to hang him, and turns out the real killer was him. Bellamy was the only murderer, there. Robin's father could die up there, all because Bellamy was a murder.

    "That's why you took off the wristbands..." Finn figured, piecing it together. ""Needed everyone to think we're dead." He scoffed at the man, "And, that whatever the hell we want bullshit? You don't care about the camp!" He snapped coldly, "You don't care! You just care about saving your own freakin' skin!"

    "Asshole..." Jace seethed.

    "Whatever," Bellamy set his jaw.

    "Shooter!" Raven hollered after him when he turned, matching over to him and looking him up and down. If there was one thing Robin knew about Raven, other than she was a good mechanic, the girl wasn't scared of anything, or of anyone. "Where's my radio?"

    "Get outta my way," he tried to swipe her aside.

    "Where is it?"

    "I should've killed you, when I had the chance." Glaring at their most recent arrival, Bellamy tried to keep his head screwed on. He had made a lot of mistakes, and murder wouldn't be the first time.

"Really?" A laugh passed Raven's lips. She looked up at him in challenge; "Well, I'm right here!"

In a flash, he grabbed her jacket and rammed her into a near by tree. Her back hit the bark with a thud! and they flinched, blinking in shock at the sight of Bellamy's hand against Raven's throat, the pads of his thumbs against the windpipe in a chokehold. However, the mechanic was prepared for him and she swiped a dagger from her pocket. She held it to his face with an impressive fluidity, and it had the rest of them stunned into silence. Once again, she made a demand for that radio. Bellamy ignored them. His eyes flitted from her, to the knife, and then back to her, looking for a lie.

"Okay— stop it." Clarke said.

Begrudgingly, Bellamy dropped his hold on Raven's neck and let his hand drift down to his side. He rubbed at his nose and squared his shoulders defensively. "Jaha deserved to die!" They knew he was right, he could tell by merely looking at them. "You all know that." Face stoic, he frowned.

"Yeah— he's not my favorite person, either." Raven called out to him as she pocketed her knife, and took notes of the fact this Blake kid liked his dramatic exits. "But, he isn't dead."

He stopped.

"What?"

"You're a lousy shot," Raven shrugged.

A lousy shot. The words rang clear in Robin's mind. They were as loud as the tension amongst them, and as obvious as anyone could presume. Bellamy hadn't killed Jaha. He had tried, but she supposed it was a more gracious of failures.

In some sense, she wondered whether that made it worse. People on the ark were going to die for something Bellamy thought he had done; he had ditched the radio because he feared the consequence that awaited him upon the ark's unwanted arrival, when, in reality, Jaha wasn't dead, at all. Three hundred innocent people were going to be killed to preserve oxygen, because Bellamy thought he'd shot and murdered the chancellor. Did he not think to check?

Her father was awaiting potential death because Bellamy thought he killed Jaha, and had made terrible decisions after the fact. Screw what she had thought, earlier— this was infinitely worse when it got put like that. Her father could die and that would be on Bellamy. It made her stomach twist.

   Sure, they would still come down and float him. It was unlikely it would all blow over. He had still attempted to kill Jaha. That was still illegal. Deep down, Robin couldn't blame him — for any of it, she didn't think. Robin had been waiting for someone to pluck up some nerve and kill chancellor Jaha, for years. She would have done it if she were a killer. Much like his son, he was a dead man walking, so it was only a matter of time until someone else tried. If Robin lived a life like Bellamy Blake, then perhaps she would have done it too. Sister arrested for being born, mother floated. Jaha had ruined the man's life. And if she had known Jaha was going to float her when he made it to earth, after she had just escaped his clutches back on the ark, maybe Robin would have prevented him from being able to make it down here and float her, too. Whatever it took. Maybe Robin wouldn't have been so innocent, but she was.

   Robin hadn't killed anyone.

   And now, because of a man who had, her father may he killed to preserve oxygen from the ark. Because they no longer had a radio, and thus no way of telling them not to. Because of Bellamy, Robins father could die.

   And, no matter how equally as guilty she would have been if she  was in his shoes, Robin couldn't find a way to forgive him, for that.

    "Bellamy, don't you see what this means?" Clarke stepped closer to him to place her hand on his shoulder; "You're not a murderer." She promised, "You always did what you had to do to protect your sister — that's who you are." He words made his eyes glitter, "And you can do it again, by protecting three hundred of your people." She gave him a stern look, "Where's the radio?"

   He sighed, "It's too late."

    "You're not a murderer," Robin repeated Clarke's words, with a deep set scowl appearing on her face as soon as he looked at her in remorse. "But you will be, soon enough."

   Robin brushed Jace's and Finn's hands off her, walking forwards, in what she hoped to be the general direction he had come in. She needed to find that radio and, if he still wasn't going to tell them, it would be their best bet to backtrack the way he came. Guy ditched it somewhere, and they would find it. Robin had to find it.

   As she went, she bumped his shoulder.

    "Can you live with that?"

   For a moment, Bellamy was Wells Jaha. It made Robin's head do dizzy spins.

   Bellamy wasn't any better. Her words echoed in his brain until it made him feel nauseated. He turned and watched her walk, and it occurred to him she was right — he would be a murderer. Could the boy live with that? It seems he had to.

    "Wait—" he eventually sighed. She stopped and turned, giving him a stare with her eyebrows raised that reminded him of all the times be got into trouble with his mother, or when Octavia was so disappointed in him that she couldn't deal with looking at his face. Robin was giving him that look. It made him feel even worse, but it was unsurprising. Robin's father was up there. Lots of kids families were up there, and they could all die because of what he did. Their parents could die; even if he hadn't known, it would still happen to them, and it would be all his fault. Bellamy rubbed his face, "It's— I threw it in the river. It's lost."

   Robin glared.

    "Then, go find it."

————

   Robin waded through the water, kicking rocks and pulling out all the scrap metal she could find, only to sigh.

    "We'll find it."

    "It's already dead, Finn."

   Basking in the silence she got in return, she threw an old camera back into the water, watched it splash! against the small current and pursed her lips. His words made no difference to how she felt all of it would turn out. Even if they found the radio Bellamy had jacked from Raven's pod and thrown in the river, there was no guarantees their work would pay off, or that it would make her feel better long term; there was no telling what kind of state the radio would be in.

    "C'mon, Lord..." Finn sighed, "Don't be so pessimistic. It might be fine," he coaxed, gently. "You and Raven'll be able to fix it back up, anyway."

    "If the circuits are water-logged, there'll be no fixing anything. If we can't fix it, we can't talk to the ark before nightfall." Robin took no joy in walking all over his hope, but it was the truth. "The ark'll float three hundred people before we even get the damn parts dried out. Got any light you wanna shed on that, spacewalker?"

   His silence proved loud enough.

    "Exactly."

    "I'm just tryna help," Finn's words were strained in his throat. It made him feel helpless when she gave him nothing in return. They hardly knew each other, but he didn't care. He wanted to help her.

    "How's that worked out for you, so far?"

   Her eyes flickered from Raven to Clarke, where they both stood across the river, and he followed the motion with a grimace. Finn's morals were questionable, lately. It wasn't hard to tell what he had done. She tutted at him.

    "You're a terrible person," he muttered, glumly.

    "Whatever you say, sleazewalker." Robin retorted, watching Finn turn even more sour.

   Sighing, the boy turned around and decided to search elsewhere. He wasn't irritated by her words; after all, he knew she was right. If be wanted to preach to her, he would have to put his money where his mouth was. Sure, they were different situations, but neither was exactly screaming positivity to them. It seemed like Finn and Robin's hope was running out. Then again, Robin didn't have much in the first place. Unlike Finn, she had never been very hopeful. It was an exact opposite between them, amongst several.

   Kicking the water with her boot, face crestfallen, Robin pulled at her ponytail, partially to tighten it and partially to feel something in the realm of emotion. She had never been good with emotion, but now she was attempting to digest the plenty that brewed just under the surface. Robin was angry, and sad, and frustrated. She felt loss; for Murphy, for Charlotte, for Atom, even for Wells. And she felt all of that loss and more for her father. Even if he wasn't gone yet, his time was running out. While he didn't care much for Robin, and it was clear Robin still wasn't sure whether she could consider him as her father, she found it hard to hate him. She claimed that he was nothing to her, that he was a bad father for not visiting her, but she didn't want him dead. No, it was a lie. Robin couldn't lose her father. Even if he didn't want her after all the things she had done, she still needed him. She needed her father.

   Even if just alive.

   She couldn't let him die.

    "You're mad."

   Robin felt her eyes roll beneath her lids. His voice made her feel the urge to shove pins in her fingers and rub at her face, "Go float, Blake."

"Look— I'm sorry, alright?" Bellamy followed her when she left to search elsewhere in the stream, his boots splashing the water up into the air. "I messed up." Understatement of the century. "But, I can't change what I did."

    "Do you even care?" Robin suddenly whipped around with a hot glare. "Innocent people are gonna die, all because of you!"

    "I'm not killing innocent people! The council are killing innocent people!" He snapped, throwing his hands around in frustration. In his eyes, however, there was guilt. Robin could see it. "I didn't know about the culling! That's not on me!" Bellamy huffed, and lowered his tone, "I'm not gonna lie and say I would take it back if I could, 'cause I wouldn't. Everything I do is for my sister."

    "Everything you do is for you, Bellamy!" She spat.

    "My sister—"

    "Did she ask you to do that?"

   He paused, "What?"

    "Did she ask you to shoot the chancellor and trash the radio?" It was silent, and Robin knew she had him there. "Everything you do is for your own good. And that selfishness might cost my father's life."

    "I'm helping you find the radio, aren't I?" He tried to defend his own ass, again, lamely. Bellamy wasn't good with apologies. Robin's anger was warranted, but he couldn't take it back. If her father got killed, then it was on him— how did he apologise for that? Both of them knew it was much too late; too late to change what he did, too late for apologies, perhaps even too late for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, okay?" Scratching his neck, Bellamy tried again. "Really. I'm sorry."

   Robin gnawed on her bottom lip.

   It was hard. As angry as she was, Robin got it. She understood it, to an extent. He shot the man who was sending his sister to earth, the man who had arrested her simply for being born, and floated their mother; it made sense. Robin got it. Why he shot Jaha, why he took the radio— she would have been wrong to blame him, for that. He did what he felt he had to do, and Robin couldn't fault him. While it was wrong to shoot the chancellor, Robin couldn't blame him for having his sister's best interests at heart. He loved Octavia. Maybe, if Robin had a sibling, she would do anything for them too. Robin would have been wrong to fault Bellamy for loving his sister, but he was blameable for selfishly trying to stop other kids from seeing the family they had on the ark, ever again. That was wrong. And it was selfish, and unfair.

   Robin didn't blame Bellamy Blake for what he had done, but she did blame him for not thinking about the consequences. He wasn't to know that the council would kill three hundred innocent people, but that didn't matter, now. Because they were going to. And when it happened, it would be his fault as much as the council's.

   Bellamy's impulsiveness cost them the radio. It wasn't his fault if people were killed, but it was his fault that they couldn't prevent it.

"What else do you want me to say?" He said when Robin didn't speak. Bellamy was lost for words and actions, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to spare my father's life!" Robin cried.

"Robin—"

"I want you to spare their families lives!" She pointed over at the crowd of searching teens.

A couple kids turned to look at them, but quickly looked away as soon as they had turned in the first place. Bellamy watched her, no words forming, nothing to say. They both knew he couldn't do that for her; he couldn't do the impossible. Bellamy wasn't able to spare her father from the culling and he couldn't do anything that would possibly make up for that. He couldn't.

    "I'm sorry," he repeated.

   She shook her head, voice a whisper.

    "It's not enough."

It wasn't enough, that was something they could agree on. Sorry wasn't going to save her father, and it wasn't going to save the three hundred innocents that would die. His words were meaningless. It didn't fix anything. Robin found his apologies empty, and so baron.

"Hey— I found the radio!"

Robin wasted no time in bolting towards Jones, wading through the water tiredly.

Raven was closer to him and got there first, snatching it from his hands and inspecting it closely. Robin glanced over the mechanic's shoulder and got a closer look; "Can we fix it?"

"Maybe," she said, passing it to the you get girl. Robin gave the radio a once over and was half-temped to throw it back to the lake, not having any hope for it. Raven explained it to the rest who were waiting for a response, "But it'll take us half a day just to dry out all the components, to see what's broken."

"Like I said—" Bellamy shrugged, "—it's too late."

"Do you have any idea what you did?" Snapping, Clarke pushed her way towards him and jammed her finger into his chest. He hid a stumble and rolled his eyes, but that only got her more annoyed. For once in her life, Robin found herself completely sided with the blonde who had gotten her arrested. Robin didn't think that would ever happen again, so she tried not to think too hard about it. Voice harsh, Clarke repeated Robin's earlier words; "Do you even care?"

"You asked me to help; I helped!"

"Three hundred people are gonna die today, because of you!"

"Hold up!" Raven cut them short, regaining the attention from the crowd. She had her thinking face on, and Robin watched with squinted eyes. "We don't have to talk to the ark. We just have to let 'em know we're here— right?"

"Yeah," Finn nodded. He tried to figure out what what Raven's mind was up to, but he came up with nothing. "But how do we do that with no radio?"

"We don't need a radio," Raven grinned. She turned to Robin, eyes bright and mysterious in the classic Raven Reyes way. If any kid was going to understand what she was thinking, it was going to be Robin Loxely: engineering genius. "You remember what I told you, about communication without words?" When Robin nodded once, Raven beamed; "They want a radio? I say we raise 'em something better."

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