─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

IT WAS LIKE BELLAMY'S ENTIRE MOOD HAD CHANGED AFTER FINDING THE GUNS. He had forgotten about searching the bunker any further, and became more giddy, even going as far as drawing a large red "X" inside of a circle on a cloth. June quickly caught on that it was for target practice as Bellamy collected three guns for them to use. The black weapon was propped in an odd way against her hip, and she was sure she wasn't cocking it correctly, but she couldn't deny the excitement of preparation to shoot. June's never shot a gun before, and although killing people wasn't on the top of her list, she couldn't help but admit she was eager to learn.

"This changes everything," Bellamy declared as he rounded the target. "No more running from spears. Ready to be badasses?" He questioned with a grin, popping one of the nuts June had recommended into his mouth. June was more delighted than she realized, leaning forward from where she was balancing herself against the wall. Her head had been aching for a while, almost dizzy-like. Bellamy eyed her in concern briefly. "You alright, there?"

June nodded, shrugging it off. "I'm ready to be a badass," she confirmed. "Start your lesson, sir."

"Look, guys," Clarke cut in, picking her head up from where she was observing her gun hesitantly. "I'm not gonna fight either of you on bringing guns back to camp. I know we need them, but don't expect me to like it."

"We're lucky the rifles were packed in grease," Bellamy said. "The fact that they survived means we're not sitting ducks anymore. You two need to learn how to do this. Everyone will."

Clarke sighs, positioning the gun. "So I just, hold it on my shoulder?" She guessed.

Nodding, Bellamy circled her, helping her hoist the firearm up more. "Yeah, just a little higher." June watched for a moment, more interested in the way his toughness faded and was replaced with nervousness as he put his hand on her hip. "Uh, that's good." June tilted her head, catching Bellamy's eye momentarily as she cocked an eyebrow in a silent mocking way. Bellamy cleared his throat, pretending he hadn't seen the way June caught on and situated his gun. "Watch and learn."

Standing in between Clarke and June, Bellamy located his target with relaxed focus before squeezing the trigger. Instead of a loud gunshot like June was expecting, his gun only let out a click. He glares for a moment, reloading, and pushing the trigger again, but the same click was heard.

"Still watching," Clarke mentioned.

"Are we learning yet?" June questioned.

Bellamy lowered his gun, giving the pair an irritated look. "My bullets are duds," he informed them before gesturing to Clarke. "Try yours."

June observed as Clarke took a deep breath, tense, as she held her gun up. She aimed it correctly before pulling the trigger. It fires, louder than June expected, and tears a small hole through the target. June squinted, seeing that it landed nearly a foot below the "X". It was a pretty good shot, especially for a beginner. "Woah," she marveled. "How do you feel?"

A few gasps were heard before Clarke finally responded. "That was amazing!" She exclaimed. "Am I horrible for feeling that?"

Amused, Bellamy shook his head. "Alright, June. You're up."

Rocking back and forth on her feet for a moment, June prepared herself, trying to calm her thudding head. She wasn't sure if her vision was blurring as she positioned the gun and herself firmly as she had seen Bellamy and Clarke do. Looking forward, she could see something in the corner of her eye dart around. It was like a black shadow, catching June by surprise at the exact instant she pulled the gun's trigger.

The gunshot went off, the bullet moving too fast for June to see, but it lands a hole in the cloth much more off course from the "X". She groaned in frustration, in both her bad aim and distraction. "Try again," Bellamy suggested.

"No," Clarke protested, putting her hand on June's gun and lowering it before she could take another shot. "We shouldn't waste the ammunition. We need to talk about how we're gonna keep guns around camp, where are we gonna keep them, and who has access."

June timidly smiled. "Always so serious."

As Bellamy and Clarke switched guns, he took a shot, landing closer to the target than either June or Clarke had. While he practiced, Clarke spoke. "You left Miller in charge of the grounder. You must trust him," she noted.

"Then you two should keep him close," Bellamy replied. "The others listen to him."

Clarke was caught off guard. "We should keep him close?" She repeated. "Bellamy, what's going on?" She pushed. "You've been acting weird all day. All the rations you took..." Her blue eyes widened into saucers. "You're gonna run." June picked her head up, her forehead creasing, lost and trying to figure out how he could do such a thing. "That's why you agreed to come with us. You were gonna load up on supplies and just disappear," she blamed.

"Bellamy," June said softly. "Is that true?"

Unable to meet their eyes, Bellamy whirled around. "I don't have a choice!" He exclaimed. "The Ark will be here soon."

"So you're just gonna leave Octavia?" Clarke retorted.

A sad, defeated look crossed over Bellamy's face. "Octavia hates me. She'll be fine."

"No, she wouldn't," June argued strictly, grabbing Bellamy's jacket sleeve and forcing him to look at her. "She'd be devastated if you left without a good-bye."

"I shot the chancellor!" Bellamy shouted, pulling his arm back. "They're going to kill me. Best-case scenario, they lock me up with the Grounder for the rest of my life, and there's no way in hell I'm giving Jaha the satisfaction!" He set down the rifle, exasperated from the conversation. "Keep practicing. I need some air."

June turned, setting her rifle down as well. "Bellamy, wait - " Ignored, Bellamy stormed off, leaving them alone. June shared a mournful expression with Clarke before speaking. "I'll go check on him. He shouldn't be outside on his own." Clarke nodded, giving her unneeded permission as she left to follow.

It was when June was running up the first few stairs that a wave of dizziness washed over her, much harsher compared to the ones before. She stopped, grasping the railing before she could trip and squeezing her eyes shut. She groaned in pain as her hand cradled her forehead, stumbling until her knees hit the stone of the staircase. June bent over, gritting her teeth and trying to pull herself together, willing the terrible ache to fade.

Quietly, a few footsteps echoed in front of her, making June wince. She lowered her hand, lifting her head to see a figure standing above her. The pain faded into a dull pang as her eyes connected with a familiar pair of dark, kind, brown was. She let out a single whisper of the painful name.

"Wells?"

It was Wells. It had to be. He looked exactly the same, from the delinquent's jacket, and heavy boots thudding down the steps until he was crouching beside a wide-eyed June. He gave her a warm smile, the one she's missed since the day she found him gone. "Hi, June," Wells greeted, his tone fond and calming her immediately.

This can't be right. June had to rack her head, searching for any answer, until she realized the only possible explanation. Wells was gone. He's been dead for a while now, it wasn't possible for him to be here, speaking to June as if he was real. She turned her head, forcing herself to look away. "You're not real, are you?" She mumbled, sounding pained.

A warm hand touched the side of June's face, gently turning it to have her face him once more. Wells held a look of remorse. "Hey, I'm sorry," he apologized soothingly. June sighed, pressing into his touch. It felt so real.

"I should apologize." Tears pooled up in June's eyes. "I couldn't save you. I should have seen what Charlotte was going to do, I shouldn't have left you alone," she cried softly, unable to stop the tears sliding down her cheeks this time.

Wells thumb came up to brush them away. June wanted to sob over how real the touch felt. "Don't blame yourself," he told her genuinely. "You couldn't have known. Don't carry this, June. I want you to let yourself move on." It was like he knew, June thought, that she couldn't let this death go and move on. She sniffled, leaning forward, and burying her face into his jacket. Even Wells scent was right, and the way he embraced her, comforting her and pulling the agonizing pain out with a single hug.

"I'm a horrible person." June shattered. "I was willing to let Murphy suffer when I thought he killed you. I wanted to hurt Charlotte - I wanted to kill her. I wasn't sad when she died," she admitted brokenly, clutching Wells jacket like he would disappear again. "People keep dying, my friends, and I can't do anything to stop it."

"June." Wells hand brushed down June's blonde hair comfortingly. "It doesn't matter what you feel. It matters what you do." June shut her eyes for a moment, taking it in and calming enough to lean back and meet his face to memorize it. "I know you're trying to keep everyone alive. You're keeping an eye on Clarke as well as everyone else. I'm proud of you." He smiled again. "I'm always watching over you."

June sucked in a deep breath. "I know... Always," she breathed out. She always felt like he was, but hearing it was convincing enough, even if none of this was real. "I love you, Wells. I miss you so much," she uttered weakly. "I'd do anything to have you back."

"I know," Wells responded. "I love you too." For a moment, June shut her eyes, breathing in. She felt Wells chin pressing on the top of her head, his arms wrapping around her again and tightly embracing her. June was enveloped into the warmness she had missed for so long before it was suddenly gone.

There was a harsh push being driven into June's side, sending her tumbling down a few steps painfully. She gasped, hardly given time to catch herself when feeling the wind knocked out of her as her back rammed into the stone. Her neck ached as she tried to lift it, looking around. There was no sign of Wells, but she could see a burly black-figure passing her. June tried to push every thought of Wells out of her mind, and focus on standing.

Her muscles screamed with each forceful way June hustled them to stand and move up the stairs. She gripped the railing so tight her knuckles turned white as she moved as quick as possible to climb up the stairs and make it outside. The cool night air greeted her as she peeked out of the hole in the ground, the bruises dying away when June came face to face with a new, shocking sight.

Bellamy was on his back, seemingly in as much pain as June but frightened. There was a rifle being pointed at him, held by the well-built delinquent Dax, and behind Dax was Clarke, holding her own firearm warningly.

"Shumway set it up," Bellamy spoke, not realizing June was there, watching. "He gave me the gun to shoot the chancellor." June's fingers curled, digging into the grounds dirt and grass. She knew Bellamy had done wrong, but he wasn't alone. The blame shouldn't have fully been put on him for shooting the chancellor.

"Put it down, Dax." Clarke's voice was dark and threatening in a way June haven't heard it before.

Whirling around, the barrel of the gun was now pointing at Clarke. "Walk away now, and I won't kill you." June didn't need any more of an explanation of what had happened. She pulled herself out of the bunker, landing on her feet steadily.

"Put it down," Clarke repeated, scarily calm.

"Your choice," Dax said, his voice gravelly and dead as Clarke pulled the trigger.

Nothing but a few clicks. Her bullets are duds.

June's eyes widened. "No!" She screamed. She ignored the formed bruises, bolting forward and shoving Clarke as hard as she could, throwing her weight along with the push and knocking them both over, out of Dax's aim. He had wasted no time in firing off shots, that the pair avoided just in time by throwing themselves behind a tree for cover. June could feel her heart racing, beating so fast that it felt like it would pop out.

Hands shaking, making what she was doing harder, Clarke struggled to reload her firearm that wasn't working. June sneaked a peek past the trunk of the tree to only see Dax getting the upper hand in his and Bellamy's fight. "Hurry!" June exclaimed, urging her friend to figure it out.

Giving up, Clarke charged towards Dax, using her firearm as a weapon now to try and knock him out. "Get the hell off him!" She shouts, but one hit from Dax to her stomach sent her to the ground.

"Clarke!" June cries out, running to check on her. Clarke tries to wave her off as she catches her breath, insisting without words that she helps Bellamy. But before June could, she watched in horror as Bellamy grabbed a stray bullet and jams it into Dax's neck in defense. Dark red blood spurts from the injury as Dax chokes out gasps, falling to his side, his body jerking until nothing.

Clarke struggles to crawl where Bellamy propped himself against a tree, still clutching her chest. June rushes to help her, aiding her until they're both next to Bellamy, leaning against the trunk, panting heavily. June tried to smile, looking on the brighter side, that just happened to be they were all alive. "Look at us," she muttered, noticing the bruises and scars the three of them were covered in. "Still breathing."

"Yeah," Clarke says breathlessly. "We're okay." She turned her head, resting her hand on Bellamy's knee. "You're okay."

"No, I'm not." Bellamy hung his head. "My mother... If she knew what I've done, who I am... She raised me to be better, to be good." He paused, sniffling. June wanted to hug him tightly seeing the tears he was struggling to fight back. She'd never thought she'd see the day that the tough Bellamy Blake would break down and shed a tear. "And all I do is hurt people. I'm a monster."

Trying to shift closer, Clarke comforted him. "Hey... You saved my life today," she informed him gently. "You may be a total ass half the time, but I need you. We all need you. None of us would've survived this place if it wasn't for you."

Bellamy turned his head, avoiding Clarke's genuine gaze only to meet June's warm one. She smiled despite the throbbing in her body. "You did a few wrong things, Bellamy, but you can always change. You've proved it by showing how you care for us, all of us. Forgive yourself," she said softly, noticing the way he shook his head in defeat.

Clarke sighed. "You want forgiveness, fine, I'll give it to you," she stated. "You're forgiven, okay? But you can't run, Bellamy. You have to come back with us. You have to face it."

"Like you faced your mom?" Bellamy asked, small.

Softly laughing at the easy yet typical question, Clarke admitted he was right. "I don't want to face my mom. I don't want to face any of it. All I think about every day is how we're gonna keep everyone alive, but we don't have a choice."

Turning his head, Bellamy looked from Clarke to June as if he was desperately looking for some assurance. "Jaha will kill me when he comes down."

"No," June declared, determined. She felt a close bond forming between the one boy she decided she truly didn't like since landing. Bellamy wasn't the hard facade he had. She couldn't bear carrying anymore grievance. "I'm not going to let that happen. We'll figure something out, together, alright?" Jaha had to be understanding. He's done so much worse to keep the human race alive. Bellamy wasn't the same monster who shot him - if he ever was at all.

"Can we figure it out later?" Bellamy mumbled tiredly.

Surrendering, Clarke slumped back against the tree with a small noise of pain. "Whenever you're ready."

June's head fell back, her stare lifting to meet the dark sky above them. She knew she couldn't pick The Ark out of the sky, but she somehow finally felt the moment of peace as if she could do so. For a moment, she didn't feel the emotional or physical pain. June sighed, her distress crumbling for now. She wasn't sure when she, or any of them, would be ready.