somewhere | b.blake ✔️

2x03✔️

We never change do we
No no
We never learn do we

- We Never Change, Coldplay

*****

When the hundred first landed on Earth, trees fascinated Ash. The sight of towering trunks and leaves as green as the Ark stories promised felt almost like stepping into a dream. She thought she'd never tire of the bright, vivid life surrounding her—each leaf catching the sunlight like it was reflecting a promise of hope. But now, only a month later, seeing trees has become just another part of surviving on the ground. There's no awe, no wonder anymore.

It's sad, Ash thinks, how much everything has changed. They've barely been here, but the world seems crueler with each passing day.

Ash forces herself not to dwell on it as she, Finn, Bellamy, Murphy, Sterling, and Monroe move quickly through the forest. The familiar sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs underfoot should feel comforting by now, but the weight of the mission ahead is pressing down on all of them. 

Ash fights through her own pain, the deep burn in her thigh flaring up with each step. She keeps her breaths steady, her face composed, refusing to let the others see how badly it's affecting her. The brief five-minute breaks that Finn grants them every few hours are her only reprieve, but even then, it feels like she's never catching her breath fully.

The sky has lightened, morning pushing through the dark canopy above. John leads the way, his body tense as they near a place none of them really want to see again—the camp where he was tortured, beaten to near death. The scars from his ordeal are still visible, both physically and emotionally, etched into every step he takes.

"Alright, where to now?" Finn's voice cuts through the forest's sounds as they pause for a brief moment of rest.

John sighs, his expression hardening. He points northeast. "This way," he mutters, his voice rough. There's no eagerness in his words, only grim determination.

Ash stands slowly, suppressing the grimace that threatens to betray her as fire rips through her thigh. The pain is constant now, a companion she's unwillingly grown accustomed to. She takes a deep breath, pushing herself forward, determined not to slow the group down.

"You shouldn't have come," Bellamy says suddenly, his voice low but filled with concern. Ash stumbles, caught off guard. She hadn't realized he'd been watching her struggle so closely.

"If I hadn't come, I would've been worried sick and probably done something stupid and got myself locked up," Ash replies, her tone honest, but laced with a sharp edge of pain. "I'd rather be out here doing something that hurts than sitting in a cell again."

Bellamy's jaw tightens, his gaze flickering from her thigh back to her face. "Fair enough, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with watching you push through this."

Ash opens her mouth to respond but catches a glimpse of movement in the distance, small blurs of color against the trees. Her eyes narrow, and she lowers her voice, "You might want to tell them we're close."

Seconds later, shouts echo through the trees, and instinct kicks in. Everyone drops low, crouching behind the nearest cover as the noise grows louder.

"Get down!" John hisses, though everyone's already crouched. He smirks. "Told you I'd find it."

Ash peers through the bushes, her sharp eyes scanning the figures in the distance. "No bright colors," she observes quietly. The Grounders always wear muted tones—blacks, greens, perfect for blending into the wilderness. The Ark people, on the other hand, stand out with their blues and reds.