Conflate | Bellamy Blake ¹ ✓

✯ | chapter ten

❝my days of breaking into places and stealing shit are over. what do you want me to do?❞

❝i want you to break into places and steal some shit.❞

-scott lang and hank pym, ant-man

♛

THE SKY IS AS dark and threatening as I expect it to be on a night as foreboding as this. The electric gate buzzes when Clarke and I enter the camp, wandering around for about thirty seconds before she points to where her mom stands. Abby looks impatient, and, most of all, livid.

"Mom," Clarke calls, causing her mother to jog toward us with...Jaha?

"Where have you been?" Abby demands in a motherly tone. Her eyebrows are pinched together in the manner I've seen enough times to know she's angry with us. "We're leaving."

"We know how to stop the attack," I repeat what I said to the others, making her eyes widen. I can't stop side-glancing at an obviously worn Thelonious Jaha standing right by me. How did he even get here, and when?

"What are you talking about?" he questions in that annoying tone where I know he doesn't believe us. His dark skin is stretched over his skin more than usual, ragged beard mostly gray and eyes haunted. It makes me wonder what happened to him for his appearance to be so uncharacteristically rugged.

Clarke and I glance at each other to see who should speak first. When I nod to her, she immediately launches into an explanation. "We haven't negotiated with Grounders because we haven't had anything to offer them. The biggest threat they face is from the Reapers. We think we may be able to eliminate that threat for them once and for all."

"How?" Abby asks, a spark of interest igniting her deep brown eyes. I fight off a smile. She has always been one to abide the rules- unless the rules are dumb, and in that case, she goes against them. It reminds me of myself.

"Abby?" Jaha's voice makes me want to punch him. He's never believed in a bunch of kids- it's why he sent us down here to die, even his own son. Wells. I can see his face when I look at his father, the image making me cold inside. I regret not attempting to make amends with him. I judged him for Jaha's actions, and it was wrong. "You can't seriously--"

"Over there!" Monroe shouts, making me stand on my toes to see what she's referring to. Distant torches light up the darkness beyond our camp. One by one, their flames flicker on until there are ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred. A thousand, maybe.

Jaha is the one to address the obvious, his dull eyes going wide. "They're here."

When Abby requests to speak with us about our plan, I sneak off to avoid the dreadful meeting. Clarke has always been the more patient one most times, which means she is the better one for that job than me. Besides, my unease at seeing Jaha again is putting me in no mood to speak to a bunch of adults who think little of me.

Instead, I wander around the Ark in the busiest sector I can find. Guards are hurrying left and right along with commoners bustling about. None of them have what I'm looking for. With the amount of people hurrying around me, they don't notice my eyes lingering around their pockets. My hands itch to grab what I'm here to take. Stealing, as bad as it is, is still second nature to me.

Then I spot Major Byrne. She's walking briskly, almost running, so I have to time it carefully. As soon as she passes, my hand darts out and plucks the walkie from around her belt. I quickly stuff it under my coat so nobody will notice my stolen item, but nobody pays attention to a young, ragged delinquent like myself.