THE 100

No one speaks. The silence is suffocating. Clarke doesn't even breathe. Her chest tightens as she bites down on her blistered lip, tasting the faint tang of blood. She fights to steady herself, her teeth clenched so hard her jaw aches.

Her earlier questions fade into the background as she watches him crumple to the ground. The sound of his body hitting the dirt is louder than it should be, echoing in her ears. By the time Bellamy and Jasper burst onto the bridge, Clarke is already there, her sleeves pressed against her mouth. She waves them away frantically.

Bellamy's eyes widen as he takes in the scene, but it's Octavia who speaks first, her voice barely above a whisper. "What the hell just happened?" Her words tremble, confusion and fear lacing every syllable.

Her grounder boyfriend, standing rigidly beside her, is equally bewildered. His stoic mask cracks ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

Clarke swallows the lump in her throat, her gaze shifting between them and the others. Focus. She forces herself to breathe, turning to Finn, whose wide eyes betray his racing thoughts. His jaw is tight, his fingers twitching at his sides.

She exhales sharply, lowering herself beside Maddox, her hands trembling as she searches for a pulse in his blood-soaked neck. Her fingers come away slick with crimson, and her heart hammers against her ribs. "I have no idea," she murmurs, her voice hollow. What the hell has he gotten himself into this time?

Finn stands frozen, his face pale and drenched in sweat. The weight of the situation crashes down on him, and his legs nearly buckle. His eyes flick to Lincoln, his expression twisted with disbelief and betrayal. "This wasn't a negotiation for peace," he croaks, stepping closer, his voice raw. "Did you know she'd already declared war?"

There's a tremor in his voice, a fragile edge that makes it clear he feels utterly blindsided. Clarke catches herself clenching her fists. She wants to yell at him, to demand answers, but she knows they don't have time for that now.

Finn's gaze shifts again, this time to the approaching figures of Bellamy and Jasper. His breath hitches, panic surfacing. "Why are they here?" he asks, his voice cracking.

Clarke shakes her head, unable to suppress the growing dread. Her eyes flick to the rifles in their arms. "She broke her promise," Clarke whispers, her throat tight. "She brought weapons."

Finn stares at her, blinking rapidly. "Did you send him too? What the hell is Maddox doing here?" His voice rises, teetering between disbelief and anger.

Bellamy doesn't wait for an answer, his grip tightening on his gun. "I couldn't hear anything. What did he say?" His voice is sharp.

Clarke crosses her arms, trying to anchor herself. "The grounder leader thinks we're invaders. They're preparing to send an army to wipe us out." Her voice is strained, every word a struggle. She glances at Maddox's unconscious form. "And Maddox… he challenged her to a duel."

"What?!" Bellamy's voice cracks, disbelief mingling with fury. His knuckles whiten as his grip on the gun falters. "Is he insane?"

Clarke lets out a bitter laugh, more a gasp of exhaustion than humor. "We've established that Maddox isn't sane, not when he does these things." And then she looks in the direction Anya disappeared to, "But she didn't expect it. She hesitated."

"That's good," Lincoln rumbles, his deep voice grounding the group for a fleeting moment. "It means she's not in control." He stands tall, his massive frame casting a shadow over them. Next to Octavia, he looks impossibly large, a living reminder of everything they're up against.

Bellamy's jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing at the closeness between Lincoln and Octavia. Something inside him snaps. Without warning, he lunges.

"Oh, hell," Finn mutters, already moving to intervene. He and Jasper grab Bellamy, pulling him back, but Bellamy fights against them, his breath ragged.

Lincoln barely flinches, his gaze steady, unbothered. Clarke watches as Bellamy struggles against their hold.

Bellamy shrugs them off, shoving their hands away. His gun is aimed squarely at Lincoln now, shaking in his grip. "What the hell are you doing to my sister?" he growls, his voice dripping with venom.

Octavia steps between them, her voice cracking. "Bellamy, please! He's trying to protect his people!"

Clarke's stomach churns. Octavia's plea only makes the tension worse.

Bellamy barks out a bitter laugh. "The same people marching here to kill us?" His voice drips with disbelief, his rage barely contained.

Lincoln steps forward calmly, his gaze never wavering. "You can thank that boy over there that they're not already on their way." He nods at Finn. "You told me your people are due in two days. It takes a day to reach Polis."

Bellamy's hands tremble. He looks wild, like a caged animal ready to strike. "You told him?!" His voice is hoarse, nearly breaking. "Finn, are you insane?"

Clarke steps in, her voice firm despite the tremor in her limbs. "Polis?"

Lincoln hesitates. "Anya has to deliver the message to the Commander. If your people want single combat, the Commander has to approve."

Clarke forces herself to focus. "Will she?" Her voice is tinged with desperation.

"I don't know." Lincoln's voice is quiet, his hesitation unsettling. "But it'll buy you time. You are invaders."

Finn steps forward, eyes burning but Lincoln interrupts him just as fast. "A victory in single combat grants honor. You've started a war you can't win," he snaps, his gaze flicking to Maddox. "And he just gave you a way out."

Clarke shakes her head, struggling to stand. Her knees crack audibly, her exhaustion showing. "His fever's over 100. He was delirious when he made that decision."

Jasper's eyes widen in fear. "I dont understand, why would he run here all the way from camp?" he whispers, his voice barely audible.

"We need to get him back," Clarke says, urgency creeping into her tone.

Lincoln spots something—a dagger glinting in the dirt. He picks it up, studying it briefly. Before he can react, Bellamy snatches it.

"Get your own weapon, grounder," Bellamy snaps, shoving the dagger into his pocket. His eyes lock on Lincoln. "Touch my sister again, and I'll make sure you regret it."

Lincoln grips Bellamy's shoulder, his grip firm, eyes hard. "Where did you get the horse?"

Clarke steps between them. "We have to go." She turns to Lincoln, her voice softer but steady. "Thank you. But your people need you."

"And ours need us." She walks away without looking back, Bellamy dragging Octavia after him.

Maddox's body slumps over the horse's back, its breath steaming in the cold air. Clarke pulls Bellamy aside. "His symptoms are familiar."

Bellamy's eyes narrow. "Poison?"

"No." Clarke's voice drops. "It's just like Murphy's."

-

Voices blur. Seconds drift by like hours in stream. And yet my heads cloudy, thoughts too foggy to dismember into words.

For a second I dream of earth. Not this one, but the one id left behind. The smell of socks, of Diet Pepsi cans on my nightstand table and my roommates moldy tennis shoes hanging over our door.

But it all turn to quiet, until my eyes flutter open.

The drop ship metal stands unnervingly well, which makes me want to punch the stupid damn grey until it turns black. I don't think I can lift my hands though, my eyes barely manage to scrape open.

This time though, there is a blonde next to me.

I groan, there no strength to roll my eyes so I barely manage to glance at her as she nurses my forehead. She jumps back for a second recovering, and then gives me a stare only a mother could.

"You stupid son of a bitch."

I find the strength to roll my eyes. "Nice to see you too, Clarke." I mutter, voice oddly cheerful.

She stands up next to the scarce medical supplies we have, "do you have any idea what you just did Maddox, you are seriously delusional if you-"

I cut her off, wishing anything for the pounding in my head to stop. "Clarke, please," I rasp, my throat dry and raw. "Spare me the lecture for now." I force a weak smile, though it feels more like a grimace. "Unless you've got a magic pill for this migraine, I'd rather not hear it."

Her jaw tightens, and I can tell she's holding back a storm of words. She paces in front of me, arms crossed, radiating frustration. "You challenged a grounder leader to a duel, Maddox. A duel. In your condition." Her voice wavers between anger and disbelief. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

I chuckle hoarsely, though it makes my ribs ache. "Yeah I was out there saving your asses. Again."

She slams her fist near the bed, blue eyes boring into me like thousand balzing sons, "no, you didn't, you just signed our death sentence."

I try to lift myself from the bed, bones crackling, "cmon Clarke, you were there," she lets me sit up, "nothing was going to stop them from marching over here and putting a dozen more spears through our hearts."

My raggedy tshirt, stained, ripped and tearing apart feels like it only covers a modest fraction of my chest. She looks me up and down, eyes flickering back up to my eyes. I can't tell if the pink tinging her cheeks is from anger or something else, but she unleashes fury down on me. "That doesn't mean you had to do what you did." She grits.

It feels like she wants to say more but Finn is bursting through the drop ship, with the rest of them trailing at him like minions, the tension in the room snapping like a frayed wire. His eyes are wild, his chest heaving as if he's sprinted the entire way.

Bellamy, Jasper, and Raven are right behind him, their expressions a mix of worry, confusion, and anger.

Finn's voice is sharp, cutting through the thick air. "What the hell were you thinking, Maddox?!" His gaze darts to Clarke, then back to me, disbelief etched across his face. "Do you even realize what kind of position you've put us in?"

I sigh, rubbing my temples, the pounding in my head intensifying. "You too, Finn? Great. Let's turn this into a lecture hall. I'll take notes."

"This isn't funny," Finn stupid face blurs in my vision." and seriously strapping Murphy to a pole like he's an animal, we're gone less than an hour and you're already calling the shots."

My gaze turns furious, head turning to raven. My voice turns into a deadly whisper, "you don't get to question me Finn, not when you set up a trap with the grounders so you could finally make peace with yourself." I manage to titter onto the ground, "Save the self righteous bullshit for someone who will listen."

Finn flinches, but before he can respond, Raven cuts in, her voice sharp. "Enough." She looks at Finn like she doesn't even recognize him, her eyes hard with disappointment. "You both need to shut up before this turns into something we can't come back from."

I keep my eyes locked on Finn, my voice still trained. "I gave you an option and ive said this before," I look over at Clarkes weary figure, "grounders don't understand politics, they understand strength."

Exasperation makes its way to Clarke, her hand settling to the table to keep herself grounded, "if You had just let me-"

Bellamy cuts in, standing in from behind Finn, "cuckoos got a point Clarke," he ignores my glare, "it didn't look like the grounder princess was exactly vibing with your idea."

Jasper chuckles, "more like she was ready to chew your head off." But no one laughs, he raises his hands in the air, not looking apologetic in the least.

"The ark is coming down here in less than 24 hours! how am I supposed to explain to them that we just challenged the only living civilization to a medieval duel?!" Clarke throws her hands up like she can't even look at me.

Bu my blood runs cold, I try to stand up blood still dripping form my nose. The effects of Murphys virus still coursing my blood stream, "raven, what happened to the radio?"

Every head swivels toward her, the air thick with suspicion. Raven shifts uncomfortably, her eyes darting around the room before she exhales sharply. "Wells managed to block the Ark's transmission, but..." She hesitates, her gaze dropping. "...we've still got interference coming from Mount—"

She cuts herself off, but it's too late. Her words hang heavy in the room, like a lit fuse waiting to blow.

Finn seizes the moment, his face twisted with rage. He rounds on me, his voice sharp and accusatory. "Is this what you've been doing behind my back? Sneaking off to run his mission?"

The accusation isn't just aimed at me—it's directed at Raven, too. His voice is loaded, ready to tear into her.

Raven's jaw tightens, fury simmering beneath the surface. But instead of lashing out, she steps forward, meeting Finn's glare with calm, steady composure. "And what about you, Finn?" she fires back, her tone level but cutting. "What were you doing with Clarke, huh? Or was your little trip to the bunker just another mission to save humanity?"

Her words land like a slap, and the room plunges into thick, choking silence.

Jasper lets out a low whistle, his eyes darting between Finn and Raven. "Well, this just got awkward," he mutters, clearly enjoying the show. But no one else is amused.

Finn glares at him, his jaw clenched tight.

Bellamy steps in, his voice sharp and demanding. "Okay, I'm going to need a little rundown here. Since when did Mount Weather have a working radio channel?" His eyes flick between me and Raven, suspicion growing with every second.

"That's why you asked the Chancellor about a station..." Clarke murmurs, her gaze narrowing. Her eyes lock onto me, sharp and calculating, as if she's putting pieces together.

I wipe my nose on my sleeve, my voice rough and strained. "How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours," Clarke answers cautiously. "Why?"

I don't respond immediately. My head swivels toward the exit, dread settling deep in my chest. My legs tremble as I push myself up, the fever still gnawing at my strength. The room spins for a second, but I force myself to stay upright.

"Maddox, sit down," Clarke orders, stepping toward me. "You're not strong enough to—"

I cut her off, my voice firm despite the weakness in my limbs. Every step feels like dragging a mountain, but I push through.

When I finally reach the door and push it open, the cold morning air hits me like a slap. The sky is painted in shades of amber and pink, the kind of serene beauty that feels out of place.

I steady myself against the doorway, squinting at the horizon. For a second, I think the fever is making me hallucinate, but then I see it clearly: a dark shape streaking across the sky.

A low rumble vibrates through the ground beneath my feet, growing louder with each passing second. My heart pounds, and my breath catches in my throat.

The others rush up behind me, their footsteps heavy on the metal platform. "What—" Bellamy starts, but his words die in his throat as he follows my gaze.

Clarke pushes past him, her eyes widening in shock. "What is that?" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the rising roar.

Raven's face pales as she steps forward, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun. "That's not a meteor," she says, her voice tight with disbelief. "Its the exodus ship."

The shape hurtles toward the ground, leaving a trail of smoke and fire in its wake. The roar crescendos into a deafening boom as it crashes into the forest beyond the ridge, sending up a massive plume of dirt, fire, and debris into the air.

The shockwave hits us a moment later, making the ground tremble. Clarke stumbles, Bellamy catches her, but no one says a word. We're all frozen, staring at the distant wreckage.

Finn is the first to break the silence. "Was that... from the Ark?"

Wells jumps down from the top of the dropship, his brows furrowed, panic flickering in his eyes. "My channel cut off—just before the crash," he says, his voice tight with worry. "It didnt work."

The air grows heavier. Everyone turns toward me, their eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion, fear—and something more unsettling: distrust.

Clarke collapses onto the ground, unshed tears withering in her eyes. fury launches herself across the scene and straight into my path, "you knew this would happen?!" her voice is on the verge of breadown.

My vision blurs for a moment, the pounding in my head making it hard to focus. I steady myself against the doorframe, taking a breath that burns my lungs. "Why do you think I pushed so hard for that duel?" I rasp, my voice barely above a whisper.