✧】ii. vendetta against seatbelts【✧

[ pilot - earth skills]

"ROOMMATE SECURED," SAYS Keaton with a wide grin as he all but struts up to Amery, arms spread. "Well. Tentmate. Is that a word?"

"No," Amery smirks, but it morphs into a smile at her friend's smug expression over his apparent new living situation.

"Well. It is now," Keaton decides, clapping his hands together as if a very important choice has just been made. He rubs his palms together, buzzing with unspent energy.

"Who's the lucky guy?" she teases.

"Nathan Miller," Keaton replies. "Solid dude." Amery thinks she might recall seeing the guy around, maybe on Alpha Station, though nothing particular about him comes to mind.

"Not Cash?" Amery asks in confusion, watching three boys tackle each other obnoxiously over Keaton's shoulder. "I thought you guys got along."

"We do. It's just that Monty and Jasper claimed a big tent before they left, and they told Cash he could crash with them. I figured four would be a little much," Keaton explains, and Amery nods in acknowledgement, stretching her arms above her head. The words take a moment to register before Amery's eyes widen and she drops her arms to her side.

"Oh, shit," she mutters. "I don't have a tent." She rubs her hands together anxiously, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she pictures herself sleeping on the ground, surrounded by convicted criminals. How lovely. Keaton doesn't look at all concerned.

"Right this way, m'lady," Keaton grins, leading her in the direction of the dropship. Next to it is a pile of salvaged supplies, mostly blankets and a few scattered crates, removed dropship seats, and... one tent.

A brunette girl snags the last one right as Amery approaches, and she groans, dragging her hands down her face in defeat. The universe is conspiring against her, and it's starting with her sleeping habits.

"Just sleep in our tent, Mer," Keaton insists, tapping her shoulder affectionately. "Miller won't mind."

"No, I–"

"Amery?" a girl interrupts, appearing on her other side. Amery grins, recognizing her loose brown braids and warm smile. Her jaw is sharp and angular, her dirt-smudged clothes giving her a hardened appearance, but she exudes a warmth that negates whatever intimidation her appearance might spark at first glance. It's been years, but the girl in front of Amery is undoubtedly the same girl she'd met in her first Beginner Earth Skills class all those years ago.

"Zoe!"

"It's good to see you again," Zoe grins, moving to stand in front of Amery and Keaton. "Wait, you were in the Skybox? What'd they get you for?"

"She snuck down here," Keaton brags, elbowing Amery in the ribs. "Mechanic and ninja." Amery smiles, because Keaton did not, in fact, say undertrained ninja. Just ninja.

"I see I've graduated," she murmurs to him, and he laughs, the tenor of his voice planting a welcome spark of warmth in her chest. She's missed that sound.

"Zoe, this is Keaton Sinclair. Keats, Zoe Monroe." The two shake hands, a firm, one-second exchange accompanied by two professional nods of the head. The girl scans Keaton quickly, sizing him up, as if deciding whether or not the dark-haired boy is a threat. It's in moments like this that Amery sees less of the curious young Zoe in class and more of the guarded, careful Monroe. She supposes everyone's changed somewhat in the Skybox.

Zoe seems to decide Keaton is perfectly harmless, rolling her shoulders back and offering a friendly smile, which the boy returns. Amery would laugh if he weren't so oblivious to the entire ordeal.

"Hey, did you need a tent?" Zoe asks shyly, talking to Amery, her sweet demeanor shining through again. "I'm sharing one with Harper, and we have plenty of room." Amery brightens at the offer.

"Are you sure? I don't want to intrude," she says hesitantly, and Zoe laughs.

"It's not a problem. C'mon, let me show you where we're at." She leads Amery away with a wave in Keaton's direction.

"See you, Mer, Zoe," he calls as he turns away, already engaging in conversation with a dark-skinned boy leaning against the side of the ship.

"Have you met Harper?" Zoe asks as the pair makes their way across the chaotic camp, squabbles and rough-housing going on here and there, frustrated shouts mixed with cheers of glee reaching decibels so wild Amery wonders if they can hear it up in the Ark.

"Years ago," Amery replies, narrowly dodging two boys chasing each other across the clearing, cackling. "Same time I met you, I think."

"Harper!" Zoe shouts as the girls approach a dark green tent near the treeline. "I have collected a roommate."

"If you don't mind," Amery adds sheepishly, and Harper pokes her head out from inside and grins.

"The more the merrier!" she says happily. "Hey, I remember you. Beginner Earth Skills. You're the mechanic, right?" Amery nods.

"Welcome aboard," Harper responds, ducking back into the tent.

"Thank you," Amery says, a hand on Zoe's shoulder, trying to convey her sincerity in her eyes. Zoe just shrugs, a lopsided smile on her face, and throws Amery a blanket.

"Sleeping bag's mine."

✧✧✧

Amery is jolted into consciousness by a shoe being thrown at her head, narrowly missing her face. She groans, rolling over in her pile of blankets and burying her face in her arm.

"Welcome to the land of the living," Harper greets her, making herself comfortable at Amery's side. Amery peeks her head out from under her arm to smile groggily, wondering who gave Harper the right to look so put-together while the sun is this bright. Combing her hands through a tangle of hair, she yawns and sits up. She hadn't even taken off her boots last night, exhausted from the mental and physical challenges of adjusting to the Ground after seventeen years in space.

"A bunch of people are starting to build stuff and collect resources. Some of them are being morons and tackling each other in the dirt, but I figured you might want to come help me in the dropship," Harper explains. "Since the outdoors don't seem to be agreeing with you." A teasing grin spreads across her face.

Harper jumps to her feet and offers the other girl a hand. "Zoe's helping some guy cut wood," she explains, dragging Amery from the tent by her forearm and toward the dropship. "And we're going to collect scrap metal and parts and whatever other crap Jaha thought he and his pretty little Council could spare for us." The sudden increase in light makes Amery cover her eyes and wince, but Harper seems unfazed, dragging the taller girl all the way up the dropship ramp and into the comfort of dim lighting.

The first level is seemingly abandoned, seats falling off the walls and a few jackets littering the floors. Amery wrenches a seat away from the metal and tugs the thick red seatbelt out, mind already racing with possibilities. Ropes. Bandages. Something to put over Keaton's mouth.

"We could use these," she suggests, holding one out to Harper, who takes it and ties it around her waist as a belt.

"I like the way you think."

Harper climbs the ladder and starts on the second floor, and for what feels like hours, Amery works in solitude, the only sounds her steady breathing and the occasional tearing of seatbelt fabric. The work is mindless, removing seatbelts from every seat, occasionally yelping as a seat decides its time has come and falls off the wall, much to the chagrin of the new dents in the floor.

At some point, a blonde girl tosses some berries into the dropship. Amery brings half up to Harper and savors the taste, not having realized the extent of her hunger.

Amery finds herself increasingly irritated at the Council for not preparing the 100 better. Taking the unpredictability of the whole expedition into account, they should have been provided more supplies on-ship. Even if the crew had managed to land successfully on Mount Weather, who knew what would still be in good shape?

Jaha's never cared, Amery reminds herself, wiping tiny beads of sweat from her brow. If he did, my parents wouldn't be dead.

Eventually, Harper finishes upstairs and drops a bundle of seatbelts down the ladder, following after and beginning on the other side of the room. Amery is glad for the company.

"I now have a personal vendetta against seatbelts," the brunette announces, undoing her makeshift red belt from earlier and tossing it unceremoniously onto the ground.

"That makes two of us," Amery responds.

"Hey, I never asked," Harper says, plopping onto the ground a few feet away to tug absentmindedly at a seatbelt's loose string. "What station are you from?"

"Mecha."

"Makes sense," Harper says, and Amery nods in agreement.

"You?"

"Factory," Harper responds. "So's Zoe."

"Grew up together?" Amery asks, tongue poking out the side of her both as she tries to get a particularly stubborn band of fabric through a hole in the seat. She remembers the way Zoe and Harper had rushed to sit next to each other that first day of class, giggling and pushing their way through taller boys to claim their spots.

"Yeah. Cellmates, too. If the Council had known what was good for them, they would've separated us," she grins, pulling herself into a sitting position to grin at Amery, "but I would've fought them if they did."

"What were you in for?" Amery asks, raising a brow. Harper's eyes are sweet and wide, her hair tumbling around her face and accenting her thin brows, lips quirked in a smile. She looks wholly innocent, and Amery cannot imagine she was arrested for anything bad.

"Stealing the tree," Harper says nonchalantly. Amery's eyes widen, and she can't help the laugh that explodes from her chest at the idea of the Council running all around the Ark in search of the last supposed plant.

"Did you?"

Harper stills, tilting her head and raising a questioning eyebrow at her companion. Amery wonders if she's crossed a line. But instead of a scoff of offense, Harper gives a soft smile. "You're the first person to ever ask me that," she says into the quiet.

Amery shrugs noncommittally. "I just... I know that being arrested for something doesn't mean you really did it." The image of Keaton being apprehended by the Guard flashes in Amery's mind, Sinclair's pleas and Amery's own cries echoing in her ears. An unwanted tattoo in her memory that she'll never be able to erase. A mistake on her part that cost far too much.

"No," Harper says softly, shifting her gaze to the ground.

"No?"

"No," she repeats, stronger this time. She lifts her head to meet Amery's eyes. "Zoe did." Harper gives the admission a moment to sink in before continuing. "We were young. Her mom was sick, and she'd read that trees created oxygen. She thought that if she put the tree in her room, maybe her mom would be able to breathe better again," Harper explains wryly, and Amery's heart pangs. Zoe's intentions were pure. So many kids in the Skybox didn't– don't– deserve to be there.

"She brought me to her room to show me, and then the Guard came in. I... I told them it was me, that I wanted to get her a birthday present nobody else could give her," Harper's voice is strained, but she makes no move to stop. "So they started to take me. And then Zoe yelled at them, told them they couldn't, because it was all her, that I had nothing to do with it."

That's what I should have done, Amery thinks, but doesn't interrupt, noticing the way Harper's breath catches in her throat.

"They took us both," Harper says with a sigh. She laughs without humor, a rueful smile on her face. "I was mad at her for weeks, you know. I just sat there, staring at the wall. I wouldn't even talk to her. Only one of us had to be arrested. I didn't want it to be her."

Amery wants to say something, to tell Harper that she's brave or stupid or just to say that she's glad she made it to the Ground. But nothing comes out, an invisible tether wrapping Amery's vocal chords in a ribbon of guilt, tied together in a bow of sudden understanding.

"You don't have to say anything," Harper laughs lightly, pushing herself to her feet. "It's a lot."

"No," Amery blurts, standing and taking a step closer. "It's just... you helped me understand something. Something important." Amery offers Harper a smile, and in return, Harper offers her a very large pile of red seatbelts.

"I think we've done enough for the day," she grins. She pulls Amery down the dropship ramp and toward the center of camp, where a bunch of kids have gathered around a large fire. Night is falling, a blanket of stars descending on the camp and giving the surrounding forest an ominous depth.

Amery shudders, suddenly glad she isn't one of the ones exploring. She wonders where Cash, Monty, and Jasper are right now. The leaf in her pocket is cool to the touch, and Amery smiles when she holds it between her fingers.

Cheering from the crowd fills the air as Amery and Harper push through the crowd, finding a girl with long, dark curls with her arm pinned to a large rock, flinching as that greasy-haired boy from the fight with Wells leans closer. For a moment, Amery wants to step in, thinking that the boy is hurting her, but then the girl's wristband clatters to the ground and she cheers, letting one of Rat-Hair's friends help her to her feet.

A series of whooping sounds erupts from the kids around the fire, Rat-Hair dropping the wristband into the flames with a cocky grin.

"Murphy," Harper seethes, gritting her teeth in evident frustration. Amery's eyes flicker around, noting familiar and unfamiliar faces in the firelight. She thinks she sees Keaton somewhere near the front.

"Who's next?" Bellamy crows, like he's asking for volunteers for a magic show.

"What the hell are you doing?" a deep voice interrupts, and Amery scans the crowd until she finds none other than Wells approaching the self-proclaimed leader. His limp is even more pronounced now than earlier. One of Bellamy's new henchmen takes a step forward as if to attack Wells, but Bellamy casually stops him with a hand to the chest, unconcerned.

"We're liberating ourselves," he says, tilting his head to the side in challenge. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're trying to get us all killed," Wells says urgently, looking more concerned than angry. Bellamy rolls his eyes, averting his gaze to the flames. "The communication system is dead. These wristbands are all we got. Take them off, and the Ark will think we're dying, that it's not safe for them to follow." Wells addresses the quieting crowd, and Amery clutches her bare wrist self-consciously, not sure she wants to be associated with these boys.

Harper's found Zoe and settled in beside her, so Amery weaves her way through the tightly-packed bodies to where she'd seen Keaton at the front of the crowd. He nudges her shoulder in acknowledgment.

"That's the point," Bellamy says confidently, raising his brows, "Chancellor." Wells draws his lips into a thin line, frustrated. "We can take care of ourselves. Can't we?" Bellamy shouts, inciting a chorus of enthusiastic agreements from the crowd.

Keaton's fists are clenched, and Amery tries to reach out to calm him with a reassuring hand. But when Keaton is determined, there's no stopping him.

"No, we can't!" he shouts, taking an aggressive step forward. Crap, Amery thinks. One of the boys next to Keaton takes a quick step away, startled.

"Oh, you think you know what's going on because Daddy's up there, Sinclair?" Murphy spits, crossing his arms. Keaton moves to stand near Wells, leaving Amery anxiously clutching at the fabric of her flannel shirt.

"You think this is a game?" Wells asks the crowd, turning around, his voice stronger now. "Those aren't just our friends and our parents up there. They're our farmers, our doctors, our engineers. I don't care what he tells you," he says, voice level and even as he gestures to Bellamy. "We won't survive here on our own." Slowly, Wells turns back to Bellamy and speaks directly to him. "And besides, if it really is safe, how could you not want the rest of our people to come down?"

"My people," Bellamy replies, "already are down."

"Oh, come off it, Blake," Keaton snarls, taking a step forward. Wells holds him back with one arm, knowing Bellamy's strength is greater than his, not to mention that the older boy has the support of most of the camp behind him.

"Those people locked my people up," Bellamy continues, pointing to the sky and glaring at Wells as if Keaton never spoke. "Those people killed my mother for the crime of having a second child." He advances on the two boys, and Keaton takes a step back. "Your father did that." He stares at Wells, voice dangerously low.

"My father didn't write the laws," Wells says through gritted teeth.

"No," Bellamy agrees. "He enforced them. But not anymore, not here. Here, there are no laws."

A flurry of excitement ripples across the crowd, kids drunk on the concept of freedom and defying the authorities that have restricted them for years on end.

"No laws?" Keaton growls, stepping in front of Wells. "Who's leading these people, huh? You? You and your little posse of bribed bodyguards over there?" He gestures to where Murphy and his crew stand on the other side of the fire. Amery's heart pounds, half-expecting Bellamy's fist to slam into Keaton's jaw. Before anything can happen, before she can think it through, she's darting across the grass, taking her place by Keaton's side. She grabs his hand and forcefully pulls him back.

"Not now," she murmurs lowly.

"And now your girlfriend's gonna protect you, huh?" Bellamy sneers, not answering Keaton's question. He raises his voice to a shout. "Here, we do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want!" The crowd cheers. "You don't have to like it, Daddy's boys. You can even try to stop it. Or change it. Kill me. You know why?"

Amery tightens her grip on Keaton's wrist, every muscle in his arms tensing in anger as Bellamy says in a monotone voice, "Whatever the hell we want."

"Whatever the hell we want!" Murphy bellows.

Another boy echoes, "Whatever the hell we want!"

A chant works its way through the ranks of the camp, Wells turning away in disbelief. "Whatever the hell we want! Whatever the hell we want!"

A cracking noise seems to break open the sky, and suddenly water is pouring down, matting Amery's hair to her face. The sensation of coolness floods her senses, rippling through her body until every nerve ending is singing in appreciation. She gasps. "Rain," she murmurs as other kids shout in glee.

"We need to collect this," Wells demands, and Bellamy just smirks, glancing up at the sky.

"Whatever the hell you want."

Amery glowers at Bellamy through watery vision as he strides away, unconcerned.

"C'mon," she nudges Keaton. "Let's help."

But Murphy, evidently, hasn't finished for the night. He approaches Keaton and Amery, brows raised at Keaton, knife in hand.

"No," Keaton immediately says. "I want my dad to know I'm alive."

"Your girlfriend here seems to know better," Murphy drawls, prying eyes darting toward her bare wrist.

"I never had one," Amery spits, voice monotone. "I snuck down here. Get off your high horse and leave us alone." Now it's Keaton's turn to keep the anger at bay. He steps in front of Amery protectively, shielding her from Murphy's piercing gaze.

The boys seem to have a whole exchange with only their eyes. The muscles in Keaton's jaw tense and twitch, and Murphy glares daggers into the younger Sinclair's eyes before turning and striding away, knife twirling in his hands.

Wells sighs, turning to Keaton. "You didn't have to back me up there. But thank you," he says, and Keaton shakes his head lightly.

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true. You got a bucket?"

✧✧✧

Amery exhales loudly as she rests her head against the boulder, pressing her shoulder to Keaton's side for warmth. The chill of the still-damp surface and the grooves digging into her back don't bother her, instead serving as a tangible reminder that this is real. She's really on Earth.

Amery thought it would be different seeing the stars from down here, but a realization takes root in the back of her mind. Even on the Ark, they were never close enough to touch. She never felt as though she could reach out the window and grab a spinning ball of flames to take home and light up the darkness of her lonely room. The stars seemed just as far away on the Ark as they do now.

"It's so weird," Keaton says, staring into the sky. Amery turns to look at him, his angled jawline outlined in the faintness of the moonlight, night air running through his short hair. "That space station was all we knew for so long. And now it's like... it's like there's all this stuff we don't know. We don't know what we're doing down here."

Amery hums in agreement, returning her gaze to the stars. "I didn't know what I was doing up there, either," she admits, and Keaton chuckles. "I can't say I'm sad to be gone."

There's a moment of silence before Keaton speaks again, his voice sad and heavy. "I miss my dad," he whispers. Before Amery can respond, he continues, "It's not your fault, so shut up. I just wish I could see him again. But not at the expense of you being down here alone, so don't get any ideas."

Amery sighs. "You really won't let me wallow in my guilt even for a minute, will you?"

"No."

She shifts her gaze to the jagged line where the shadows of the trees meet the sky, blots of ink against a backdrop of indigo, the black and blue bleeding into each other like watercolors on a canvas.

"I understand why you did it," she whispers, keeping her eyes trained on the sky. "I do. I didn't before, but I get it now. I know... I know it wouldn't have helped anyone if I did speak up." Amery sighs. "I was irrationally angry at you for a while, you know."

"You're always irrationally angry at me," Keaton points out.

"Shut up. I'm trying to have a moment," Amery retorts, sharply driving an elbow into her friend's ribs.

"Ouch," he mutters.

"I would have done the same thing. I know that now," Amery continues. "If the roles had been reversed, I would have done exactly the same. And I would have been mad at you for ages if you tried to stop me saving you," she chokes out.

She can feel Keaton soften beside her, all tension leaving his body as he props himself up on his elbow and tilts Amery's face toward his.

"I'm glad," he says firmly. "Because if you'd tried to stop me, they would have taken us both, and I would've been forced to break out of the Skybox to kill you, and then I would have been arrested for real."

Amery can't help it. She starts laughing, the feeling growing warm in her chest and bubbling over like a pot on the stove. She's happy, and she hasn't felt this way in a long time.

"Hey, Keaton, I–"

Keaton looks up to find a lanky blond standing a few feet away, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, mouth open in a mid-sentence blank. Amery doesn't know when the tears started coming, but they've gone from guilty to happy, and she smiles as she sniffs, blinking furiously.

The blond kid clears his throat. "You know what? It can wait. I'm gonna..." he jabs a thumb in the other direction and slowly backs away.

Keaton just laughs at the boy's retreating figure. "Kip doesn't know what to do when girls cry."

Amery laughs, wiping her eyes with the back of her palms. "I don't either."

"Oh, shut up," Keaton grins.

"Really," Amery pushes, elbowing the taller boy. "Raven's only emotions are oh-my-God-another-thing-to-fix and I-miss-Finn-but-I-refuse-to-speak-to-anyone-about-it." Keaton laughs, his eyes squinting as he looks away, just like he always does, always has, when he's laughing.

"Good thing you have me, then."

"Good thing," Amery agrees, not bothering to hide the fondness in her voice.

"Full transparency," Keaton announces. "I never believed in God like my dad did. I actually laughed one time when I tipped over the menorah and he yelled at me. But I've been praying every day since the arrest that I would see him again."

Amery's heart pangs. She knows Keaton doesn't mean to make her feel guilty, but there's no helping it. The fact is that if she hadn't been so selfish, Keaton never would have had to leave his dad. She knows that Keaton taking the blame was his choice. She knows that her confessing to her crime would not have helped anyone. But despite what Harper helped her to understand, it is still her fault that the situation arose in the first place.

"I never believed in a god," Amery whispers. God wouldn't send a wave of unsurvivable radiation over a whole planet in an attempt to wipe out a race, would he?

Maybe he would. Amery wouldn't blame him for wanting to give humanity a taste of its own medicine.

"I know," Keaton replies. After a beat of silence, he asks, "What do you believe in? I mean, everyone wants to believe in... in something. What gives you hope?"

Amery closes her eyes, thinking. "Sometimes I thank my lucky stars," she whispers back, as if speaking any louder will shatter the moment's peace. "We grew up in space, Keats. So they've... they've always been there. There's constant. Not a lot of things in my life are. And I believe in what's constant."

Keaton hums in agreement.

"So I believe in my lucky stars." She turns to face him, grinning. "And I believe in you."

Keaton angles his head down, offering a wide smile, and puts his arm around Amery's shoulder, drawing her close.

"I believe in you, too."

✧✧✧

a/n:

thanks for reading! i realized today that i don't remember religion being addressed on the show in the first few seasons and wanted to incorporate that into this. i feel like it's unrealistic that NO form of religion was carried to the Ark. it just seems weird to me that it isn't really mentioned until bill's cult or whatever.

keaton just makes me <333 i actually wasn't planning on this new friendship with wells, but it happened and i think it's so cute. even though it means pAIN later.

they never addressed where harper was from on the show, nor why she and monroe were arrested, so i said screw jroth and did it myself. harper and monty were precious but you can't tell me she and monroe wouldn't be a power couple

monty returns in the next chapter !! what do you think will happen?

[ word count | 4.6k ]