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introduction.
how do i stop the guilt?
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June wakes up screaming.

It's not that rare anymore, really.

The nights June had been pulled from her nightmares with ear-piercing screams that tear through her throat and reverberates through Arkadia are too many for her to count. Her dark dreams always range different; some involving Clarke, or even Raven, sometimes Wells. But every single one made June remember Mount Weather. Whether they were inside the mountain, or with residents, she was back in that massacre in different ways. And it wasn't just reliving it. It was the souls of every person she killed, everyone coming at her at once.

June shoots up in her bed so fast her neck snaps while screaming so loud she's sure she wakes up a few people with her. Air fills her lungs when it finally stops, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath that she tries to regain. Sweat built up on her forehead that she can't brush away, too paralyzed in fear as her screams turned into soft cries of anguish.

June half expected to be in the Mount Weather control room again, the light of a computer screen blinding her sight and watching Clarke and Bellamy pull the lever. She can still feel what she felt then, the weight of the guilt of bearing it all. June even has to whirl her head in both directions to double-check and be absolutely sure she's still in her room.

But the truth is, June isn't there anymore. She never will be again. She's in her own room in Arkadia, sweaty, having suffered through yet another nightmare in which her scream was the only noise that woke her up. June is still terrified, struggling to close her eyes and calm down, fearing if she closed her eyes long enough, she would be back in the bunker.

"Just a nightmare," June whispered to herself, hand flying up to rest over her beating heart. "It's okay. I'm okay." She knew she wasn't, not really, and wouldn't be. No time would heal what June had done. But if she told herself enough, maybe she'd eventually start to believe it.

The door to June's room suddenly sliding open has her violently flinching, starting to reach for the handgun at the stand next to her in case, but stopping when she saw it was only Bellamy. He's panting as if he raced to her room the second he heard her screaming, freckled face creased with concern. "Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah," June mumbled, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Just a... A bad dream," she admitted quietly, knowing she trusted Bellamy to know. The pair had become closer once Clarke abandoned them; a bond formed that June would have laughed at if she was told in the dropship camps that Bellamy would become like her family. Sure the two had a rocky start, but now, June knew she'd do anything for him.

Bellamy nodded slowly. "I get it," he said. "I have them too."

With her hands still trembling, June returns the nod of understanding. After all, who wouldn't? Bellamy sends her one last look filled with every emotion possible before he leaves, sliding the door shut behind him again. June waits until she is sure that he's gone to bury her face in her hands and break down on her own. She lets out a muffled sob, eyes squeezed shut and her heart feeling like a heavy rock, crushing at her lungs.

June doesn't just cry because the memories hurt like hell. She cries for Maya, the girl who saved her multiple times and paid the price for a good deed. She cried for her father, who may have been cold at first, but gathered a dozen of his own people that were willing to risk their lives to shield them. She cried for everyone there who died, the woman, the men, the children, and even the soldiers. June cried for the ones she lost, her parents, Wells, Finn, and her friends. She was alive, and they were gone.

And she can only imagine it isn't going to get any easier.