CHAPTER SIXTY SIX
( saving grace )

OCT 31 & NOV 1, 2149
DAYS FORTY NINE & FIFTY ON THE GROUND

POUNDING FOOTSTEPS HARED AFTER BELLAMY AND DAKOTA FASTER THAN THE WILD THRASHING of their fearful hearts, flashing orange lights beaming through the large plant room. The two took shelter behind a large tank, chests heaving erratically up and down.

Bellamy glanced down at the torch in his hands, mischief and panic stirring through his fevered eyes. Swiftly, he gestured his head towards the open vent they had entered in through; it's grate still propped against the wall. "Go. Get back in the vents and start moving as fast as you can. Do not stop." he cocked his gun. "I'll cover you."

"What?!" she panted, jerking her head back incredulously. "No! I'm not leaving you!"

"I'll be right behind you."

"No, Bellamy I'm not—"

"Dakota." he impatiently grasped onto both of her shoulders, the manic intensity lighting flames in his cocoa-colored eyes; the guards steadily closing in on them. "I am not losing you again. Go. Right now."

Again. The word stung.

She nearly scowled at how harsh his demand had sounded, but the worry coursing through her veins made it impossible to be mad at him. Debilitating fear for his life— oddly not concerned of her own— crept in as she tried to trust that he was a man of his word. That if he said he'd be right behind her, he'd be right behind her. But he had promised her something similar once before, and it had ended exactly the way he vowed it wouldn't.

But she knew he'd made up his mind, and she really had no other choice.

The sound of shots firing rippled through the atmosphere as she took off from behind the tanks, bullets ricocheting against the metal left and right as Bellamy struck one of the men in the shoulder; the man grunting as he crashed to the floor. She wedged herself urgently back into the vents, crawling desperately on all fours through the narrow passageway just as he'd instructed her, only briefly pausing when she heard another petrifying round of bullets ring out among the indistinct shouts; likely ones aimed towards Bellamy. Still, she carried on, speeding up and praying he hadn't been hit.

It wasn't long before she reached an open space with a metal ladder and grated floors, carefully weaseling her way out into it. The second her feet were back on solid ground, a nearby explosion was knocking her off of them again.

She'd been a part of enough detonations at this point to know the drill— the walls would shake, the floor would liquify, the air would be seared, ears would ring, and limbs would be turned into jelly. Every time an explosion occurred even remotely close to where you were, it felt like every atom on this planet was being torn to pieces for the first few disorienting moments.

Only this time, she was certain the world really had been torn to pieces, at least for her. She stared up at the vent, and for a split second, she thought Bellamy was dead. How could he not be? If he had been out there where even the strongest of metals had probably melted away, there was no chance of surviving.

Before her heart had the chance to entirely quit beating out of devastation, the boy came rushing through the metal passageway; a wave of brightly burning flames shoving him harshly out. It was a staggering sight to behold— seeing the deadly fire thrust him forward as if it had hands and life of its own.

He collided into the metal with a thud, and before she could even scramble over to aid him, he was enveloping her into his arms and tackling her to the floor. Facing his back towards the unbearable heat of the blaze so she wasn't the one against it, he lugged them frantically over to a corner; enclosing her as securely as he could with his own body so she was shielded.

Smoke and ashes plagued the atmosphere as they desperately held their breath, faces red as tomatoes while their lungs ached and yearned. Soon enough, the roar of the fire dwindled out, and they each took in humongous gulps of the fume-laden air. Coughs spewed from their lips, but mostly from Bellamy's, and Dakota could feel his body trembling violently against her own. Wether it was from adrenaline or shock or fright or pain she wasn't sure.

She fought against his grip and untangled herself from the fireproof sanctuary of his arms, eyes stinging in the hazy environment as she sat quickly up to inspect him. He clutched at his chest and forced himself up, still rasping as he used one hand to cup her face; eyes scanning over her features, kissed by dark splotches of ash.

"You okay? You okay?" he wheezed, hair dripping with sweat. The girl nodded fervently, face still contorted in sheer worry.

His shoulders sagged in relief, her eyes widening when his hacks turned into hoarse laughs; the boy flopping down onto his back and staring up at her with an exhausted grin. It disappeared when he realized she was not returning the smile, but instead that tears were building in her big eyes.

"Hey," he sat back up, brows pulled together. "Hey, it's—"

She cut him off by tossing her arms around him, perhaps just as tightly as she had a few days ago when she first discovered him in the harvest chamber with Maya. Burying her face in the crook of his neck, she squeezed harder and harder; choking back the knot in her throat. She could barely breathe her chest was so tight; unable to focus on the victory that came with the fact that Bellamy had likely annihilated the tanks and ended the acid fog's cruel reign indefinitely. She couldn't focus on anything other than the split second she had truly believed he'd been blown apart.

Blinking, he slowly snaked his arms around her in return; placing a large hand on the back of her head. It only took him a few seconds for his surprise at her great despair in the face of success to subside, and he was soon placing a loving kiss on her temple. He could feel how rapid her heart was beating even through the thick material of his stolen vest, her body shaking as empty gasps and silent sobs escaped her lips.

"I thought you were..." she couldn't finish.

"I'm okay, I'm okay." he whispered benevolently into her tousled locks, each word so gentle as he lightly scratched his fingertips on the fabric of her shirt. "I've got you."

༻✧༺

ECHO.

The grounder whom Bellamy had promised he would come back for, the grounder whom he had forged an alliance with during their time in neighboring cages. She and the rest of the prisoners in the monumental harvest chamber had an important role to play in the war.

"Get up. It's time to go." the Blake commanded as he hurriedly unlocked her cage, Dakota dragging a large bin she'd brought with her out of the vent they'd just come from. She watched warily from the corner of her eye where she kneeled by the container — still not entirely trusting of the woman— as Bellamy helped her out of the enclosure.

"I told you I'd come back for you. Come on out. Our people are marching on Mount Weather right now." He moved swiftly to the next cage, Dakota's head snapping up and her hand flying instinctively to her knife when the grounder inside of it kicked at his hand he had extended to help. Bellamy frustratedly raised his voice at the man. "It's okay, we're getting you out!"

"Slow down." Echo placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him away with a warning glance. "They just bled him."

Bellamy didn't care, he couldn't. There was no time. His words barely had spaces between them, grave features glistening in sweat under the blue light; eyes wide. "Listen to me. There's an army inside this room. And I need you to help us get them ready to fight. Can you do that?!" she sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. "Good. Start with him." he moved to the next cage.

Echo reached in, wrapping an arm around her friend as she carefully helped him out of the cramped space. "En's kei. Oso na trus em."

Dakota tensed when her eyes landed on the man. Echo was right about him being freshly bled— it was something she'd become quite talented at recognizing. The measly strips of gauze doused in red, the trembling of his pallid arms. She saw the pale white and yellow medical gowns, heart quickening a little at all the egregiously familiar things. She remembered how the material felt against her own skin, sore to the touch from the constant poking and prodding. She remembered the drill. Harper and Monty's screams. Xavier in the cage beneath her, bloody and gowned and dead.

She winced and sucked in a sharp breath, her hand flying to her lower back, where one of her drill sites had been— feeling a rush of searing pain all over again. Quickly she shook her head and forced the agony away, refocusing on their mission.

Clearing her throat and rising to her feet, she scooped up a plethora of items from her carefully curated bin and approached Echo and her friend; the woman eyeing her distrustfully. She had brought along things she knew from experience would better their chances in battle.

"Ai brough bida stuff. Bakkova, dina, water, laudnes medicine. There's nou a lot kom em, ba en's something." she extended her arms, offering the items to the two while Bellamy continued to free people.

The man at Echo's side nearly salivated over the bottled water and graham crackers— all things Maya had stolen for her late last night per her request— while Echo herself blinked at Dakota's words; the hard look halfway disappearing from her dark eyes.

"Chon taught yu trig?" she questioned.

Dakota smiled sadly. "A good lukot kom ain."

Echo hesitantly took the items, racket building in the room as the grounders shouted and demanded to be liberated; rattling their cages.

"Too much noise." Bellamy shot a panicked look to the woman.

She nodded and scurried over to the most central part of the room, coldness in her eyes and fire in her scowl as she barked out an aggressive order. "Taim yu gaf en na free, shof op!" Instantly, the room fell silent; Bellamy and Dakota exchanging an impressed glance as Echo marched back over to them. "Okay. How do we do this?"

"There's an army outside going for the main door. When they get it open, all hell will break loose." Bellamy urgently explained. "That is the signal for my friends to come here, and then—"

A loud beep cut him off, their heads whipping upwards towards the speaker. "My fellow citizens, this is your president speaking."

Their hearts sank— it was Cage.

"I have news to share with you that will change all of our lives. Forever. For 97 years, Mount Weather has been our home. It's kept us alive, but it has also held us captive. Most of us have made peace with what we've had to do to survive. We've done these things for one reason— so that our people could someday return to the ground. That day is today."

"He's going public." Bellamy mumbled in horror.

Dakota's eyes widened, her heart beginning that dreadfully familiar anxiety-infested racing it so often did within the walls of this godforsaken mountain; realizing the danger his words were going to impose. This was about to make things a hell of a lot harder— as if they weren't complicated enough already.

"Before my friend, Lorelei Tsing, was murdered by the outsiders still at large in this mountain, she found a cure. It was in their bone marrow."

Friend. Dakota nearly scoffed at the word— the only thing those two ever did was ruthlessly bicker.

"Here." Bellamy was suddenly placing the keys to the cages in Echo's hand, storming direly back towards the open vent. "I'll be back. Kota!"

The Thompson girl was matching his pace in the blink of an eye, feeding desperately off of her ongoing adrenaline rush to keep from thinking about what exactly Cage's announcement meant for their friends.

"Where are you going?!" the grounder chased after the pair.

"He's trying to get his people to turn on each other." Bellamy's eyes were wide with terror. "They'll find our friends! We have to bring them here now. We'll send them in groups. You get your people ready to go, but you wait for us to come back. Do you understand?"

She nodded, and the two took back off, Dakota stopping at a hand on her shoulder. "Wait!" they turned, a sincere look in Echo's eyes. "Thank you."

"You free your people. Protect ours when they get here. We can thank each other when we're all outside." he affirmed, climbing swiftly back into the vents.

"Kep in ai lukots klir, beja." Dakota beseeched one final time before hurrying inside the narrow shaft. Bellamy's head was strained over his shoulder in the tight space to make sure she got in safely behind him, giving a nod and waiting for one in return before starting off.

The sound of metal denting beneath the fast shuffling of their palms and knees didn't stop them from hearing Cage's speech continue to reign throughout the mountain.

"This has been the dream of our people since the bombs. But to reach it now, I need your help. The 44 criminals that irradiated level five, killing 15 of our people, are now keeping us from that dream. Although we've repaired our home, we can never replace the lives that were so viciously taken from us. Yet as hard as it is to believe, there are those among us who would help the people who did this. And I am speaking to you now, if you truly want to end the blood treatments once and for all, then the 44 murderers you're now hiding are the key to doing that. You have one hour to turn them in without punishment. After that, we'll be forced to consider you enemies of the state. I'm asking you, please, do what's right for your people. Our people. So that we can all take our rightful place on the ground."

A new voice cut in. "We're almost home."

Dakota halted at once, her blood running cold.

It was Jaxx.

She knew that tone of his— a tone that had tricked her one too many times. It was the same one he had spoken in the very first time she'd been bound to a table and had a drill jammed into her side, while he stroked her hair against her will. She could almost picture the sadistic smile on his face, the fiendish glimmer in his cold-blooded eyes from the other side of the speaker.

His had been one of the few voices to bring her solace when things in the mountain had begun to not line up, or when her heart was breaking for the life she'd left behind. When Bellamy wasn't there, and Fallon and Clarke had gone missing, and Maya's poisoned blood was being pumped into the body of her best friend, it had been Jaxx who was her saving grace. It had been him who had hugged her and soothed her and dried her tears and laughed with her and talked with her and made her believe in the beauty of this place. Made her believe every wrong would be righted.

It was him she had trusted most.

And he had betrayed her.

Ruthlessly, heartlessly, he had betrayed her.

Bellamy paused when he realized she had; quickly twisting halfway around to look at her. "Kota?"

His eyes widened at the darkness in hers, her jaw clenched so hard surely her whole face ached; the girl staring straight ahead as heavy breaths entered and exited through her gritted teeth.

He blinked in thought for a moment, realizing what had set her off, speaking gently when he did. "Whose voice was that?"

There was a short beat, the girl never looking over to him. "Someone who is going to be dead by the end of today." she growled lowly, her uncanny tone sending a shockwave up his spine. "Come on, let's go."

He didn't want to go. He wanted to turn fully to face her inside these frowzy vents he was becoming so damn sick of and hold her tight while she told him everything. All he wanted to do was hold her and listen for hours and help her poor little heart in any way he could. But if they stopped to do such a thing, their friends would die and more blood than they could comprehend would spill; painting this mountain red. So he swallowed his sorrow and continued on.

They traveled until they heard familiar voices and the rattling of chains, miraculously reaching a situation that was seconds away from becoming a nightmare just in time to keep it from doing so. Through the slits in the ventilation panel, they could see two guards escorting a small group of their friends through the corridors; wrists bound in heavy shackles. Standing in the way of the guards and their defenseless captives was Vincent Vie— unarmed and unwilling to move aside.

Streaks of white hot fury shot through Dakota's chest, and when she felt Bellamy tense harder than she knew someone could from where she was wedged beside him, she knew he felt the same.

She'd always found it odd that human beings seemed to zero in on the most small, insignificant details in times of crisis. For instance, right now the minute feature setting her off were the shackles. How rusty Miller's appeared, how unnecessarily tight Jasper's were, how irritated Maya's skin was beneath them, and how big Fox's looked on her— her shoulders pulled uncomfortably forward like they were weighing her down. With how oversized and bulky the bonds were on her thin frame, she'd never looked more like a little kid. Maybe paying attention to details like these was the brain's only way of keeping itself from becoming too consumed with hatred and emotion all at once.

Dakota wanted to pounce, her knife already unholstered and petitioning for violence; ready to be plunged into the bodies of the two men who dared to raise a gun at Maya's heroic father and fetter her friends. But Bellamy waited, and she could see the wheels spinning thoughtfully behind his brown eyes, so she waited too.

"Don't make me do this, Vincent." the guard implored, though his tone told them he wasn't that opposed to killing one of his own. The merciless cocking of his gun paled in comparison to the despair in Maya's powerless cries; preparing to watch her father be murdered.

Constantly readjusting her sweaty grasp on the hilt of her small weapon, Dakota watched as Bellamy slowly lifted his own gun so the muzzle aligned with the narrow cracks in the grate. It was smart, not reckless the way she had wanted to be. If they had loudly kicked the metal panel open and tried to shimmy out before ever shooting, they would be the ones to end up loaded with bullets. Taking down one guard would give them the opportunity to escape the vents without dying before they had the chance to kill the other. She made a mental note to applaud him for his tactics later.

"I'm sorry, Paul." Vincent sadly shook his head.

Just as Paul's finger was curling over the trigger, Bellamy beat him to it; the bullet lodging straight into his skull and sending his instantly lifeless body to the floor. Vincent rushed to help pop the grate from the outside, Bellamy immediately poking his head out and raising his gun for the next guard. Dakota huffed aggravatedly when his spare arm flew in front of her, keeping her confined to the vents where no bullets could reach her. Before she had the chance to shove her way out from behind his safeguard, he moved to let her pass; both of them slowing momentarily down when they looked to see that Miller had already eliminated the final threat.

"Hey." Bellamy's hand was on Vincent's back the second he was out and on his feet. "Good job. Thank you. Miller, you okay?"

"Better than you." the boy quipped, still short of breath from where he had strangled someone and smashed their head into a concrete wall using only the rusty chains of his shackles.

Dakota had ripped the keys from the dead guard's lax hand within seconds, perhaps breaking some of his fingers the metal loops had been intertwined with from how quickly she yanked them away. She'd split them wordlessly with Jasper, unable to speak until they were disenthralled; hands fumbling to free them fast enough.

The moment Fox's wrists were loose, Dakota was heedlessly dropping the keys back to the floor and letting out a groan of immense relief when their arms flew urgently around each other. They clung on for dear life, squeezing the oxygen from each other's lungs and gripping onto the other's clothes so tightly their knuckles turned white.

"You okay?" the Thompson girl breathed, feeling the fervent nodding of her younger friend's head against her shoulder.

"We need to get everyone to the harvest chamber." Bellamy announced as he patrolled the area, arms still stiff with his gun locked in his grasp; swiftly scanning the nearby halls to ensure their vacancy. "You'll be safer there."

"Safe in the harvest chamber?" Jasper questioned, sarcasm not holding a candle to the legitimate fear in his tone; eyes wide.

"Just trust me."

"Are the others there?!"

"Not yet."

"Monty?"

At this, Dakota couldn't help but pull away and listen fully to what was being said, Fox's arms still wrapped securely around her waist.

"Monty's with the other group on level three. Don't worry, we moved them after the last sweep." Vincent assured when he saw the look in the eyes of the best friends still missing their third member. "You should go there next."

"Let's go." Dakota immediately nodded to Bellamy, all business once again; everyone speaking so direly and fast-paced.

"Alright, go on. Vincent will take you, we won't be long." Bellamy ordered, turning to leave when Jasper's urgent voice stopped him.

"Hey!" the Jordan boy bent down, equipping himself with the fallen soldier's gun. "I'm coming with you."

"Jasper." Bellamy tilted his head, unhappy with the prospect.

"I promised I'd protect them. That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

He was hellbent, a fight was pointless.

"Let's go."

Fox's grip around her waist tightened fearfully, heels digging into the floor when Dakota began to try and walk away. "No, no, no, no, no!" she whimpered, panic rising in her throat as her chest began to rise and fall too quickly. The Thompson girl turned back around, meeting her wide and tearful eyes as she frantically shook her head— desperate and horrified. "No, you can't go again."

Her heart swelled with sympathy, agonized by the look in Fox's innocent eyes, but they didn't have time for this. A small, sad sigh left her lips. "Fox—"

"I-I-I can come with you!" she negotiated, teetering on the edge of hysteria. The monumental stress from the last few days were too much to handle any longer. "Please, I'll just come with you!"

"No, you can't. It's too dangerous."

"Kota, please!" she drew in a rugged breath as her voice cracked, petrified eyes swimming with tears. She jerked herself away when Vincent laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "NO!"

"Fox."

The sudden calmness in Dakota's voice grabbed her attention. Her voice sounded like honey and flowers as she shivered and whimpered berserkly; their eyes locking. Immediately, solace rushed over her enough to keep her from completely hyperventilating; warmth pervading throughout her body when she saw the unexpected smile on her face, the glimmer of faith in her ebony eyes. The older girl looked unworried— relaxed, even. The young brunette was too worked up to doubt the legitimacy of her idyllic state. It was soothing just to look at her like this, and the longer she stared, the more her tight muscles unwound and erratic breathing leveled.

"Why can't I just come with you? Please. I can fight if I have to." she gave one last weak, attempt. "Please?"

Dakota's serene mien didn't falter as she delicately cupped Fox's youthful face in the soft palms of her hands. She spoke slowly and clearly to emphasize her words, hoping it would make it's way through the girl's thick fog of terror. "Vincent's got you, okay? He's going to keep you safe until Bellamy and I get back."

"But—"

"Do you trust me?"

With fear still written on her face, Fox rolled her lips into her teeth and nodded frantically. There wasn't a force or nightmare in this galaxy that could ever cause her to stop trusting Dakota Thompson.

"Kota." a stern, but sympathetic voice beckoned her.

She twisted her head over her shoulder— it was Jasper, Maya, and Bellamy. They needed to leave.

With a final enrichment of the fake smile on her face, she turned back to Fox, leaning forward and placing a tender kiss on her forehead; twinkling eyes still connected when she pulled away. "We'll be out of here before you know it, my Little Artist."

She still wasn't convinced, but Fox nodded anyways. Giving the older girl's face a final scan, she took a step back and allowed Vincent to wrap an arm around her shoulders; watching as the Thompson girl spun on her heel, stole the last spare gun from the floor, and marched out of sight with the others.

She wanted to chase after her. Desperately, she wanted to go with them. But she willed herself to be brave and stay as she had been told by the one she trusted most. Brave for Dakota, and for their futures, and for the rest of their friends.

Only a minute later she headed off for the harvest chamber with Vincent and Miller.

A/N!
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word count   4,410