FROZEN STARS
TWELVE
❝ we're not special, we're not different, we don't choose who lives or dies. ❞

MARLEY, BELLAMY and Clarke watched helplessly as the young girl fell from the cliff; they were all on their hands and knees, leaning over the edge as far as they could without tumbling over the side. Bellamy was yelling and Clarke was crying out helplessly.

But Marley was numb. She had leant back so she was sat on her feet, her hand clasped over the small wound on her neck which was still dribbling with blood as her ears rung loudly. Her eyes were closed and she could see nothing but stars; her head was spinning faster than she could handle. She was so close to passing out that - if she opened her eyes - she knew that she would likely fall over.

Maybe if she kept her eyes closed for long enough, when she opened them she'd be back on the Ark and all of this would have been some sick dream? Maybe she'd wake up and realise she was still condemned to an isolated cell - and feel some sort of reluctant relief that she wasn't stranded with a hundred others waiting to die at any moment, but rather in an isolated prison cell when she knew exactly when she'd be floated. When she opened her eyes, squinting up at the star-filled night sky, she could do nothing but wish she was there. And wished that at some point she'd be shaken back to a reality she wasn't even sure existed anymore.

But the wind whistling around her face, the cold nipping at her now tear-stained cheeks, assured her that this wasn't a dream or even a hallucination. This was about as real as it could get. You couldn't imagine something this vivid, something that made you so dizzyingly upset and angry. Something that made you feel like this couldn't be fake.

Marley hadn't even realised she was crying until the freezing breeze hit her face. But she was too caught up in what had just happened to bother wiping them away - she just let them fall slowly down her cheeks as she wondered where there was to go now. What did they do now?

In the midst of the shock, Bellamy had risen to his feet. His hands were balled up into fists and his face twisted with anger - he was glaring directly at Murphy who was stood, wide-eyed, in the realisation of what he'd done.

"Bellamy..." He moved to protest but it was too late.

Bellamy was charging at him; he lunged at the boy and knocked him clean to the ground with one single guttural growl, raining crushing blows down onto Murphy's face. Murphy was trying his best to push Bellamy from his body but the more blows that landed on his face, the weaker he grew. Marley watched on - as the rage-fuelled assault continued - from her spot at the edge of the cliff, her eyes blank and unfocused, blurring with pools of tears. She didn't have the strength to speak out or to protest - and, even if she did, she wasn't sure the words would even come out.

"Bellamy, stop! You'll kill him!" Clarke shrieked.

Finn yanked Bellamy backwards by the arms, much to Bellamy's protests.

"Get off me! He deserves to die!" Bellamy yelled, his voice low and fury-filled.

"No. We don't decide who lives and dies. Not down here."

Bellamy scoffed, "So help me god if you say the people have a right to decide-"

"No, we were wrong before, okay?" Clarke admitted as she glanced over at Marley, looking for some agreement. But she was still lost in some sort of delirious exhaustion. Her eyes were still blurred with the tears that had now fallen down her cheeks and her neck burned with the sting of her wound, which she was sure had finally ceased its bleeding. Regardless of her withdrawn state, the blonde turned back to Bellamy and carried on speaking. "You were right. Sometimes it's dangerous to tell people the truth. But if we're gonna survive down here, we can't just live by whatever the hell we want. We need rules."

Marley felt an arm around her torso, steadying her and gently pulling her upright onto her feet. Out of the corner of her grey eyes, she could see that it was Finn who had come to her aid. He kept hold of her and guided her over to a jagged, moss-covered rock, sitting her down and mumbling for her to keep her hand firmly clasped over the knife wound.

The girl nodded in compliance and closed her eyes tightly; she was fighting against a pounding headache that threatened to rip its way through her skull.

"And who makes those rules, huh?" Bellamy asked with a scoff, in response to Clarke's proposal. "You?"

"For now, we make the rules. Okay?" Clarke motioned between herself and the freckled boy who was still stood, arms crossed, a sceptical scowl painted on his face. His breathing was still erratic as he conceded that particular side of the argument.

"So, what then? We just take him back and pretend like it never happened?"

"No," Clarke said. Her voice was determined and it was obvious that she had a very clear-cut idea of what exactly they should do to Murphy, who was still on the ground groaning in pain. "We banish him."

Bellamy needed no convincing. As swiftly as he had lunged onto the boy before, he heaved Murphy to his feet, mumbling a 'get up' as he did so. He had a vice-like grip on the tatty collar of the navy blue jacket he wore. He pulled the boy over to the cliff and dangled him over the edge, instilling fear into Murphy's heart as his eyes widened and hands gripped onto Bellamy's jacket in a desperate attempt to stop himself from falling, should the older boy let go.

"Bellamy, stop!" Clarke shouted with warning urgency.

"If I ever catch you near camp, we'll be back here. Understand?" Bellamy threatened lowly.

Murphy - who's face was beginning to purple with the shadowy beginnings of bruises - nodded his head feverishly. The freckled man threw the boy to the floor; with an infuriated spark still in his eyes, he marched towards Tate who had dropped his knife to the floor and was watching the scene unfold with an emotionless expression.

"And you-" Bellamy grabbed him roughly by the jacket. Their faces were inches apart as Bellamy stared at him with an expression so threatening that it almost scared Marley. In the short space of time she'd known him, she'd never realised that he could care so passionately about someone he'd just met to the point where he would threaten someone's life for them.

"You go anywhere near her again," Bellamy spat as he pointed towards Marley. He kept his eyes fixated on Tate's face, who was still stoic in his expression and demeanour. In fact, Marley could have sworn she saw the beginning of a smirk curling on his lips. "I will throw you over that cliff myself."

Tate stumbled backwards as Bellamy let go of the lapels of his jacket.

"And, as for the rest of you, you can come back and follow me or go off with him to die." Bellamy addressed the rest of Murphy's goons, surely now to answer to Tate in light of their current leader's banishment. "Your choice."

And, with that, he just worked away. Without another word, he half stomped his way into the trees on his way back towards camp. Everyone paused for a minute - most taking in the gravity of Bellamy's words, Murphy's gang evaluating whether they should choose life or death.

There was no contest for most, each turning on their heels without so much as another glance at their former leader. They were like lions abandoning their weak, sauntering off in their pursuit to look after themselves.

The lack of loyalty was startling to Marley - down here, on this Earth that was determined to take them down one-by-one, you had to stick with someone if you wanted to survive the night.

Now, she may have been ridiculously quiet and irrevocably terrified of everything she'd encountered during her time on the ground, but she was almost positive that she had people looking out for her. Bellamy had saved her from Tate's clutches more than once and Finn and Elijah had been there to steady her whenever she had been shaken to the point of trembling hands and vacant eyes.

Marley found herself walking through the forest behind Clarke. Her feet were heavy like someone had tied two led weights to her legs, and her head was groggy. She shuffled through the vegetation and dirt; Finn was trailing behind her, having stopped to drop Murphy's knife by his still crumpled and bleeding body.

All she wanted to do was get back to camp, curl up in a ball and sleep until everything went away. Until there were no more Grounder's trying to kill them, until there was no acid fog and she wasn't surrounded ninety-odd criminals who were dangerously unpredictable.

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Marley had been trying to sleep for at least two hours. Every time she'd close her eyes, she'd be reminded of the horrors she had witnessed earlier that night. They came in sudden, vivid flashes with an intent to terrify. It didn't help that everyone outside her tent was intent on yelling at the top of their lungs to get their friend's attention or running up and down, weaving through the rows of small tents which they'd managed to cobble together out of the materials on the dropship and a few tree branches.

She'd once shared her tent with Wells - before he'd been killed - though she wasn't sure she could ever recall them ever sleeping there at the same time. Now she felt just as lonely as she did in her cell in lock-up - only this time she was surrounded by fabric and not metal. Only now she could walk out through the makeshift door, as opposed to being locked behind it.

The brunette scrunched her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could - with an exasperated and resigned sigh, she sat up. There was a stone sticking into the top of her leg from underneath the thin blanket she used in vain to keep herself warm at night.

She wanted to sleep, she really did, but her whirling mind wouldn't let her. She let her heavy head fall into her hands - she remained that way, her face tucked away into her hands until the soft call of her name could be heard from outside her tent.

It was a low call, an almost cautious and questioning one, testing whether or not they could enter the tent.

"Come in," Marley croaked.

A soft breeze blew through the girl's hair as her tent's door was opened. She glanced up through her fingers to see that it was Bellamy Blake who had ducked inside and was stood, arms crossed, a hard-worn expression on his freckled face.

"I just came to see if you were okay," he murmured awkwardly.

Marley nodded, he fingers lifting to meet the bandage made from ripped up fabric that Clarke had fixed to her neck. "I'm fine." She managed to muster out words with a weak smile.

"Oh," Bellamy replied, "that's good. I'm glad."

Unsure of what to do or say, and after a slightly uncomfortable exchange of glances, Bellamy moved to back out of the tent. The whole situation had been a little overwhelming for the both of them - she could tell that he was feeling ashamed of the way he'd reacted. Like how he'd attacked Murphy with such anger and hatred.

"Thank you," Marley called quietly as the freckled man moved to make his exit. "For- for the Tate thing. I, um, I don't know what he would have done if you hadn't stopped him..."

"Well, you saved yourself today." Bellamy smiled before acknowledging the thanks he'd received for what he'd said just before they left the cliff side; it may have only been second nature to him, to protect those ever-so-slightly more vulnerable than him but she was exceedingly grateful that there were people here willing to help her.

The very least she could do was to try and help them, she just wasn't sure how she could do that yet.

"I hope you don't blame yourself for what happened. You look pretty shaken."

Marley hummed. The truth was: she did blame herself. In part, at least. The chain of events leading up to Charlotte's death had involved her. Maybe if she'd managed to break free of Tate's clutches just a moment earlier, the girl would still be alive. But she'd - at the very least - come to realise that she wasn't the only one at fault. And that was progress in her eyes. Only a few days before would she likely be crushed by the idea that everything that had happened was her fault entirely. At least she was starting to rationalise things a little more - but her head was still clouded and her thoughts were by no means clear or coherent. "I'll be okay, I guess."

"If you wanna talk, I'll be in my tent."

With one last smile of understanding and concern from the freckled man and a nod of acknowledgement from the girl, Bellamy ducked out of the tent, leaving Marley to continue with her futile attempts at slumber.

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A/N: an update! i'm so late because i've been swamped with work and what not - i'll be moving away for uni in a few weeks so it might take a while before i update again but i'm hoping it won't be too long!

also, side note: i don't know if everyone actually had tents because we only actually saw bellamy's and charlotte was sleeping against a tree that one time but i decided to just give them tents anyway. like i'm sure there would have been a few pissed off people if bellamy had a tent and they didn't.

and kinda cute little marley x bellamy moment at the end of the chapter which was so fun to write! i just want them to be together already but they can't be because it's chapter twelve and they've known each other for like a week and now i'm sad.