The storm had come fast—louder, harsher, and more violent than anything they'd faced so far. Wind howled like some furious beast outside the dropship, shaking its metal walls with every gust. It was the first real storm since they'd landed, and it had sent everyone scrambling inside.
They had managed to bring in Raven's radio just in time, along with the makeshift infusions Lily had been working on. Now, the floor of the dropship was cluttered with supplies, salvaged crates, and bodies pressed close together for warmth and safety. Everyone huddled in silence, heads bowed, waiting for the night and the storm to pass.
Lily sat near the back, right next to Finn.
Her fingers trembled each time the wind screamed through the trees. Every time the dropship creaked, her muscles tensed involuntarily. And being on shift—her turn to watch over Finn—didn't make it any easier.
It had been hours.
He had never regained consciousness.
She and Clarke had been taking turns watching him, trying to keep the wound clean, making sure the bleeding hadn't worsened. Clarke had been clear: Don't touch the knife. Don't move it. Not even a little.
So all Lily could do was keep wiping the blood that pooled around it, dabbing gently at his side with clean cloth soaked in one of her herbal antiseptics. Her hands worked on instinct now, but her thoughts were everywhere. Most of the time, her gaze kept drifting to Finn's chest—just to make sure it was still rising. In. Out. In. Out. A rhythm she clung to.
But sometimes her eyes dropped to her own hands—stained red. Fingers sticky with drying blood. And each time she saw it, her mind betrayed her, replaying the moment over and over again. The flash of the blade. The Grounder's face. The way Finn's body had jerked. It didn't matter if she squeezed her eyes shut—the image still came.
And now the wind outside only made it worse. It sounded like the forest itself was screaming.
Nearby, Raven was still hunched over the radio, furiously adjusting wires and whispering into the mic, desperate to reach someone on the Ark. But there had been no response—not a single crackle, not even static. Just silence.
And Lily was starting to fear that silence meant something permanent.
What if we'll never reach them?
She tried not to think about it. But her mind wandered anyway—back to the Council, to the people who had sent them here. Back to Marcus.
How could they send us down like this?
A hundred kids, barely trained, barely equipped. No guards. No doctors. No backup. Just… dropped.
Everything could have been different if they had done it right. If they had sent a real team. If they hadn't treated this like an experiment. Clarke and Lily were doing what they could—but they weren't surgeons. They weren't even medics. Just two girls with barely enough training and way too much responsibility.
She was angry. At her father. At the Council. At herself.
At herself most of all.
If I hadn't stopped Bellamy, she thought bitterly, wiping away another tear before it could fall. If I hadn't agreed with Octavia... Finn wouldn't be like this.
Her throat tightened. Her voice cracked as she whispered, "I'm so sorry, Finn."
She brushed a tear from her cheek with the back of her sleeve, then turned her head slightly, scanning the room while trying to steady her breath. The other kids were still dragging in the last supplies from outside, their faces tense and wet with rain. The wind was threatening to rip everything apart if they didn't move fast.
She spotted Jasper passing by, then Monty behind him. Octavia. Jake. Miles. All rushing to secure whatever they could before it was too late.
But no sign of Bellamy.
Not for a while now.
She hadn't really spoken to him since they got back. Not more than a glance. Not more than a word. But she imagined he was still out there, shouting orders, organizing the chaos, putting himself between the others and the storm.
Then suddenly, a cracking voice came from the radio—after the countless times Raven had called for the Ark.
"This is a restricted channel," the voice of a man broke through, making Lily spin her head toward where Raven was seated. Did she make it?
"Who is this?" the voice kept asking. "Please, identify yourself."
"This is Raven Reyes," she spoke without hesitation, as Clarke moved closer to her like all the other 100. Lily could only stand up and watch with wide eyes as it happened before her. Raven had made it.
"The 100 are alive," Raven kept saying, her voice urgent but trying to stay as steady as possible. "Please, you need to get Dr. Abby Griffin."
Lily felt her eyes fill with tears as she watched the others look at each other with relief.
"Hang on, Raven," the man at the radio said. "We're trying to boost your signal."
Lily let out a shaky breath, and her gaze met Clarke's as she turned toward Finn. They could save him. They could really save him now.
"It's them," someone said from the crowd around Raven. "It's really them."
Lily exhaled shakily, her chest tight with relief, and looked at Clarke.
"You can save him now," she whispered. "You can really save him."
Clarke looked stunned and relieved all at once but kept it together. And with a final look at Finn, she turned just as another voice came from the radio.
"Raven, are you there?" The voice crackled but came through clearly enough. Lily turned to Finn, kneeling beside him. Her fingers reached for his hair, gently stroking it as if she could reassure him—but really, she was trying to reassure herself.
"Mom?" Clarke spoke into the radio. "Mom, it's me."
"Clarke?" The woman's voice was full of emotion. She must have been so relieved to know her daughter was alive, and Lily couldn't help but wonder if Marcus was next to her—if he was listening and realizing they were all alive. Did he care whether she was alright or not?
Don't think about him right now, she scolded herself, trying to focus on Finn.
"Mom, I need your help," Clarke said firmly, without hesitation. "One of our people was stabbed by a Grounder."
"Clarke," another voice came through. "This is the Chancellor. Are you saying there are survivors on the ground?"
There was so much they didn't know. So much they had pulled them into. But there was no time now.
"Yes," Clarke confirmed. "The Earth is survivable. We are not alone."
There was no answer after that. A long pause. Lily had no idea how long the silence lasted, but it felt endless. And for a moment, she hoped they would realize what they had done—what their interests had cost their children.
"Mom, he is dying," Clarke insisted. "The knife is still in his chest."
"Okay," Dr. Griffin said, then asked to be put in contact with the Medical section on the Ark. They could make it, couldn't they? Their instructions had to be enough to save Finn. They had to be.
Calm down, Lily. Breathe, she told herself, trying to push her panic back.
"Clarke," the Chancellor's voice came again. "Is my son with you?"
That question made her look at where Clarke was seated next to Raven. All the grief for her friend came crashing down again.
"I'm so sorry," Clarke said, trying not to cry. "Wells is—Wells is dead."
Lily bit her lip, looking down. The silence that followed was heavy and impossible to ignore. She still remembered how it had felt when her mother died. Losing someone that important was a kind of pain difficult to explain. It left a void, a space no one else could ever fill.
Lily didn't appreciate Jaha, or people like him, but that kind of pain… she wouldn't wish it on anyone. Not even the Chancellor.
"I'm gonna talk you through it step by step," Abby assured, as Clarke moved to Finn. Lily was about to follow when Clarke stopped her.
"Lily, I need your help," Clarke said, making Lily's heart jump. She knew nothing about surgery. She made medicines, not stitches. But what else could she do? Did she really have a choice?
"Mom," Clarke called, but for a moment there was silence. Did they lose the signal?
"Mom?!" Clarke said again, louder this time.
"I—yes!" the woman replied. "Yes, I'm here."
Lily let out a tiny breath of relief. They couldn't lose the signal now.
But then the storm outside roared again, and the dropship let out a terrible groan that made everyone jump. They had never experienced weather like this before, and each sound was worse than the last. It made everything feel more fragile.
Where's Bellamy? she found herself thinking, turning toward the entrance. Why is he still missing?
"Clarke," Abby's voice pulled her back. She needed to focus. On Finn. On saving him. Nothing else.
"You—five—to get to Medical."
"Oh God…" Lily muttered. This time the voice was cut. It was different. They were losing the signal.
"What?" Clarke asked, but no answer came.
"Raven, what's wrong?" she asked, moving to the girl who was already working the radio, her fingers trembling.
"It's the storm," Raven said, her tone full of worry.
"What can we do now?"
"There's a hurricane right on top of them," another voice came through. Relief that they still had a signal was instantly crushed by the panic of what it meant.
Lily remembered what she'd studied about hurricanes—they were dangerous, destructive, and far too big to run from.
That was not what they needed.
"Clarke," Abby said again. "We need to hurry."
"What do we have to do?" Clarke asked.
"You need to sterilize your hands. It's very important," Abby explained. "Then a needle and some wire to close the wound."
"I'll find the needle," Raven said, getting up and running out of sight.
"What do we use to sterilize?" Clarke turned to Lily.
Lily's head buzzed with panic and exhaustion, almost making her forget everything she knew.
"Lily!" Clarke's voice shook her, grounding her again.
"There's nothing strong enough I made," she said, trying to steady her voice. "We need to get rid of most of the germs on our hands, if not all of them." She forced herself to think. Think hard.
"We need something strong. Something that will cleanse our hands for good."
Then it hit her.
"Moonshine…"
"What?" Clarke asked, confused.
"Alcohol. We need alcohol. Lots of it," Lily said, turning around. "Octavia!" she called, getting the girl's attention. Octavia ran to her without hesitation.
"Come with me," Lily said. "We need to get Monty's Moonshine."
"Now?" Octavia asked.
"Yes, now," Lily insisted. "Come on."
It howled like a living thing, pushing sideways with such force that Lily had to brace herself against the metal wall to keep from falling. Rain whipped across her face, stinging her skin like needles. The world was chaos—branches flying, tents flapping, the ground muddy and slick beneath their boots. The trees groaned and bent under the pressure, some cracking somewhere in the distance with a loud snap that echoed like gunfire.
"This is insane!" Octavia yelled beside her, using both arms to shield her face from the rain.
Lily didn't answer. She couldn't. Her heart was pounding too hard, and her breath kept catching in her throat. She had to focus. They didn't have time to freeze.
She gestured toward the far tent where Monty usually kept his stash. The structure was barely holding together, the canvas flapping violently, the ropes strained against the wind.
"Come on!" Lily shouted over the roar, grabbing Octavia's hand to help her keep balance.
They slipped through the mud, boots sinking with every step. Lily could feel her clothes clinging wet to her skin, the cold biting deeper than she'd expected. Her fingers were numb by the time they reached the tent.
Inside, it was slightly more sheltered—but not by much. The wind still found its way through the seams, howling through the gaps.
"There!" Lily spotted the crates stacked in the corner and rushed over, falling to her knees as she yanked the lid open. Cans clinked together inside. Her hands fumbled over the jars until she found the one labeled with Monty's messy scrawl.
"Is this even going to work?" Octavia asked, crouching beside her.
"It has to," Lily said, gripping the bottle tightly. "Moonshine's basically pure alcohol—he said it was over 80% proof." Her voice trembled from both cold and fear, but she forced herself to stay focused. "That's enough to sterilize our hands. If we don't have surgical antiseptic, it's the next best thing."
She could barely feel her fingers, but she held the bottle like it was the most important thing she'd ever carried.
"Okay, let's go!" she said, standing and nearly slipping again as the wind slammed into the tent once more. They pushed the flap open, and the storm greeted them with another deafening roar.
They ran.
Branches whipped past them, the wind threatening to pull them off-course. The sky was a blur of dark clouds and streaking rain. Lily kept her arms curled around the bottle, protecting it like her life depended on it—because it might. Because Finn's did.
Every step felt like a battle. By the time they made it back to the dropship, Lily was soaked to the bone, her hair plastered to her face, her breath ragged and uneven. She burst through the hatch just seconds after Octavia, clutching the cans to her chest, and all eyes immediately turned toward them.
"We've got it!" she called hoarsely, already moving toward Clarke.
Her whole body was shaking as she handed over the cans. Her hands were red and numb with cold, but she didn't care.
"By the smell," Octavia said weakly, trying to lighten the mood, "I'm pretty sure no germs can survive that."
The three of them quickly opened the cans and poured the liquid into a bowl Clarke had set on the table next to Finn. He was getting paler by the minute, his breathing shallow and uneven, and with the hurricane raging outside, they knew they had no time to waste.
Suddenly, the dropship shook violently, its metal walls groaning and cracking under the pressure. Several people gasped, instinctively grabbing onto whatever they could. Lily's heart jumped. How much worse could it get? Would the dropship hold? Were they really safe in here?
"The storm is getting worse," Clarke said quietly, her eyes darting toward the entrance. "Monroe, close the doors."
Lily's eyes widened. "Clarke, are you sure?" she asked, panic slipping into her voice.
"Yeah," Monroe added quickly. "We've still got people out there."
"Monty and Jasper aren't back yet," Octavia said, biting her lip. Then she hesitated. "Neither is Bellamy."
Lily closed her eyes for a moment. Anything could have happened out there. The wind, falling trees, debris… Grounders. Her thoughts spiraled instantly into every possible nightmare. Where were they? Were they okay? What if something had happened? Her hands started shaking again, her breath growing shallow and uneven. She tried to calm herself, but nothing helped. Everything felt out of control.
"They'll find somewhere to ride it out," Clarke said firmly, and Lily wondered how she could sound so certain—or if she was just forcing herself to believe it.
"Clarke!" Raven's voice cut through the tension as she pushed through the crowd, holding something in her hand. "One suture needle," she said, handing it to her.
"Now we need wire," Lily said softly as she began washing her hands in the moonshine, the sharp smell filling her lungs.
"There's some I used for the tents," Octavia said beside her.
Clarke nodded once. "Alright. Let's get it."
Octavia started moving immediately, but Raven stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Stay away from the blue wires," she warned seriously. "I rigged them to the solar cells on the roof. That means they're hot. You got that?"
"Yeah, I got it," Octavia replied quickly, already disappearing into the crowd.
Lily exhaled slowly. They were really doing this. There was no turning back now. She watched as Clarke finished cleaning her hands, and for a moment their eyes met. No words were needed. They were both terrified. It was time.
Lily moved to the other side of Finn, standing next to Raven, as Clarke took her place in front of him.
"Tell me you can do this," Raven whispered, almost begging.
For once, Clarke's usual mask slipped. Fear flickered openly across her face. She cared about Finn—Lily could see it now more than ever—and this wasn't just a medical procedure. It was personal. Lily clenched her fists. She just wanted to help. She was so tired of losing people. So tired of watching friends die. They had to save him.
"They're back!" Monroe suddenly shouted.
Lily's heart leaped. For the first time in hours, the feeling was close to joy. She turned just in time to see Bellamy, Monty, and Jasper entering the dropship, soaked and exhausted. They were alive. She let out a shaky breath of relief.
But it vanished the moment she saw Bellamy's face.
His eyes were hard. Distant. Dark.
"Bellamy!" Octavia cried, rushing toward him.
Lily barely heard her. Her attention was fixed on what they were dragging inside. Two of Bellamy's boys shoved a Grounder forward, his hands bound, his mouth gagged, his body limp. Lily recognized him immediately.
"He caught him…" she whispered.
"It's the one who stabbed Finn?" someone asked.
The boys dropped the Grounder to the floor. He was unconscious and wounded, and Lily felt sick. Hatred surged through her chest—hot and ugly. She hated him for what he'd done. She hated that Bellamy had brought him here. And she hated herself for wishing, even for a second, that he were dead.
"Oh my God…" she murmured, forcing herself to look away.
Try to be kind, Lily.
Her mother's voice echoed in her head, painfully clear. But how could she be kind now? How could she forgive after everything they had taken from them? Her hands trembled again.
Am I becoming like Marcus? she wondered in horror.
"What the hell are you doing?" Octavia demanded, her voice sharp with anger.
"It's time to get some answers," Bellamy replied coldly. There was no emotion in his tone. None at all.
Lily gathered the courage to look at him. He was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, his jaw clenched tight. He looked dangerous.
"What, you mean revenge?" Octavia challenged.
"I mean intel," Bellamy shot back. "Get him upstairs."
The boys obeyed immediately. Lily stared into Bellamy's eyes, and something inside her shrank. They scared her. Did he want to kill that man? Was that right? Was it wrong? She didn't know anymore.
"Bellamy," Clarke said, stepping toward him. "She's right."
Before anything else could be said, Abby's voice came through the radio again, sharp with urgency.
"Clarke, are you ready?"
Silence fell. Lily closed her eyes for a brief second, gathering every ounce of strength she had left. She couldn't think about the Grounder. Or Bellamy. Or morality. Only Finn.
"Look," Clarke said softly, turning back to Bellamy. "This is not who we are."
Lily looked up, and her eyes met Bellamy's. His gaze scared her again—sharp, unflinching, dark with something she couldn't name. Maybe they should trust Clarke. Maybe Bellamy was wrong. Maybe he was just angry. Was he doing the right thing, or was he becoming something else? Was there any other way to face this war they were in?
Try to be kind, Lily.
The words echoed again, louder this time. She let out a breath and found herself shaking her head gently, pleading with her eyes as Bellamy stared back at her. But he didn't agree.
"It is now," he said, resolute. His voice was cold and final. Then he turned his back to all of them, following the boys dragging the Grounder upstairs.
What was he planning to do?
"Clarke?" Abby's voice snapped them back to the moment. "Are you there?"
The room shifted, the tension breaking as everyone turned their attention back to Finn. Clarke moved fast, taking her place beside him again. Her shoulders straightened with effort, even though Lily could see the weight pressing down on her.
"We're here," she said, steady and focused. Her eyes flicked to Lily—just for a second—before she turned back to the radio.
"We're ready."