In the middle of the night, you were walking around the grounds, thoughts forbidding you from falling asleep.

Thoughts about the future, what it held, primarily how the new man in charge would handle it.

Pyke had taken control of the people way too fast. He had supporters, he had rebels who didn't want him there. At first, he did seem decent. But then, everything went downhill as he so cruelly affirmed that he wanted the grounders dead.

Saying such things was dangerous, like treading on a precipice. You could slip any second, meet the consequences of his actions—and that meant war against the people who knew the ground much better than any of you did.

The worst part? Bellamy, the Bellamy who protected so much, was taking his side, and there was nothing you could do but watch as chaos settled amongst your people—Pyke's people.

You turned, and there you were met with a terrible scenario. The sight of your friends being kept in a cell while Bellamy casually discussed something with Pyke triggered you endlessly.

When Bellamy's eyes shifted and they caught yours, he sighed, and walked towards you.

"Don't give me that look," he muttered, jaw tight, fists hard.