A/N: Enjoy Everyone!

Disclaimer: I do not own the 100. The story is rated M for adult themes and will feature spoilers.

Knocking on Heaven's Door by Bob Dylan

Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore.
That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel I'm knock' on heaven's door.

Resolutions- Chapter 26- Fallen Warrior

Clarke's eyes darted towards the gray flooring where the sun was casting wispy shadows. The shadows were longer, stretching and reaching towards her. Clarke sighed impatiently and tried to ignore the clenching in her stomach. The shadows signaled the day coming to an end. Clarke knew that meant the sun would be sliding behind the trees until the light disappeared entirely. Dread filled her as she thought about spending the night in the Dropship with Lincoln by herself.

She stood up. The stool screeched loudly, sending chills up her back as the noise echoed in the large room. Clarke flinched again as Lincoln began his wailing, shrieking calls.

She stared around the room, trying to find something that would keep her busy, but that seemed to worsen her anxiety. Every inch of the space was a reminder of her failures as a leader. A swinging red rope hanging from the ceiling, the small hammocks covered in dried blood. Even the seared marks on the ground made her skin itch with frustration and guilt.

Clarke resigned herself to sitting hunched up in a corner, waiting.

A few more hours passed painfully. Lincoln had either settled down or collapsed. Clarke didn't want to check on him because if something was going wrong medically, she couldn't help him. She didn't have the supplies and knew that he would kill her if she got too close to him. The alternative left her useless and completely resentful over being useless.

When she finally heard the smacking sound of shoes on the metal lift of the dropship, she thought the smile on her face would cause the skin around her mouth to crack and tear.

"Bel," she exclaimed, lunging to her feet. Instead of seeing his tall, lean body, Clarke was taken by surprise to see Rivo.

Rivo gave her a small smile and shrugged his shoulders when he saw her face fall.

"What are you doing here?"

"Bellamy sent me. He wanted to come out. Octavia too, but a woman stopped him from leaving."

Clarke's mind shut down for a moment as she tried to comprehend what she was feeling; confusion was a predominant emotion as she wondered who stopped him and why. She also felt concern and fear as her mind jumped to the worst conclusions. Frustration began to gnaw at the edges of her cognizance because she wanted him there and he wasn't. She needed his help, and he couldn't get to her, and finally anger turned from a flicker to a flame in her mind as she thought about the person who stopped him.

"Who stopped them?" Clarke gritted out softly after a moment.

"The blonde war commander."

"Who?" She already knew the answer. Clarke's simmering anger turned to rage and hatred.

"I think you called her Major Bryne? She wanted words with Bellamy. He sent me back to let you know they will be on their way once they finish their conversation."

"So they could be here soon," Clarke surmised.

"I don't know. If they finished a few minutes after I left that might be true. All I know is that I am supposed to help you."

"Did Bellamy tell you what he was doing?"

"No, but he did give me this." Rivo reached up and grasped the leather strap in his fingers, tugging at an aged bag off his shoulder. He held the satchel open. Clarke quickly took a step forward and peered into the opening of the bag. Small containers of food, strips of cloth, and a small plastic object clinked together as Clarke widened the mouth of the bag. She leaned forward and picked up the plastic rectangle.

Clarke grinned a little more easily. Even with the delay by Bryne, Bellamy managed to pull through.

"Do you know of Lincoln?

"Lincoln kom Trikru?"

"Yes. He was part of Indra's village before everything went to Hell."

Rivo laughed a low laugh that whistled through his lips. He was unapologetic as he grinned at her.

"Was life here ever anything but hell for your people? From what I have heard about your brief existence on this planet, your people haven't experienced anything else."

Clarke's eyes rose in surprise but nodded at the unexpected change of subject.

"My people have a saying about trials. What doesn't kill us, turns our hearts to iron and our bones into willows."

"Flexible, but unbreakable," Clarke summarized quietly.

"Yes, the weak break under pressure and die. The strong survive. They live because the idea of dying is unacceptable."

Clarke frowned as she considered his words. It wasn't until she heard the sound of heavy metal chains sliding across the floor that she remembered where the conversation had ventured away from. Rivo's eyes shot up as he looked up towards the second story of the Dropship.

"Lincoln was turned into a Reaper."

Rivo's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He took a step towards the ladder in the middle of the room before he stopped. A deep breath rattled through his body as he backed off a step.

"How long has he been up there?"

"I don't know. A little after midday. The drugs are going through his body pretty strongly."

"So he has a few more days before the effects will be out of his body?"

"At the very least. It's a waiting game at this point."

"Can I help?" There was something in his voice that made her second guess him. She wanted to trust him. She had grown to like Rivo, but something was off.

"I think we should wait until Bellamy and Octavia get here." Her tone must have alerted Rivo about her concerns. His eyes swept over her small frame. He gave her a rueful smile.

"Can he make it that long unassisted?"

At that moment, Clarke could hear the pained sounds of Lincoln's stomach emptying across the floor. The terrible sloshing of liquid hitting the floor above her brought Clarke back into the moment. Her brows furrowed together as she waited for the vomiting to stop.

"If you could help keep him hydrated," Clarke finally agreed. She held up a canteen and shook it slightly so that the liquid swished back and forth in the small gray container. Rivo nodded his head and twisted around.

Before he left, he turned back and stared hard at her.

"My younger sister was taken by the Reapers when she was fourteen. She wasn't a warrior or able to defend herself. A month later, I found her body floating in a river. If it wasn't for a birthmark, we might not have known it was her. To me, Reapers are death and destruction, but the person and the Reaper aren't the same. They are different. Reapers are made, twisted and broken- made to destroy." He took a deep breath and clenched his fists. "If Lincoln still has the drugs in his body, someone allowed him to have it. He was made to destroy."

The anger and resentment in his voice was all-consuming as he stared at her blankly.

Clarke's mouth fell open in stunned silence. Rivo started up the ladder and slammed the hatch behind him. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of the tangible pain in his voice. She clenched her eyes shut and dug the sharp edges of her nails into her palm.

Because of the Ark rules, she couldn't imagine the pain of losing a sibling. Only Bellamy and Octavia had the luxury of knowing what it felt like to have a sibling around. She hoped that they never discovered that pain.

She remembered the moment that she had found Wells dead. His blank eyes staring out into the unknown abyss. His body, cold and stiff in death, was an empty vessel. She choked a little as her throat tightened and the tears from her eyes leaked down.

He was the only family that she had beside her parents. And he was gone.

There was so many things that she would have changed in her life. The list was too long to write down, especially considering the first few days on the planet, but she wished she could save the boy that once knew her better than her mother.

Clarke quickly swiped at her cheeks. Ignoring the screams that were coming from the ceiling, she went to a small corner where an abandoned blanket had been left on a hammock. She silently climbed into the makeshift bed and hugged her stomach as if that would keep in all the pain and sorrow and remorse.

When sleep fell over her, it was an uneasy rest, plagued with broken bodies and screaming souls. A few hours later, she jolted awake- A hoarse scream twisting its' way out of her throat. She flinched away from the warm hand that was on her shoulder and threw a curled fist towards the intruder. The person deflected the weakly thrown fist as if it was a feather drifting towards their face.

"Clarke," the voice called, "It's just me."

Clarke nearly sobbed in relief as she took in the person's build and noticed Bellamy's soulful brown eyes staring at her. He put his hand back on her shoulder and slid it down her back. Clarke sat up more allowing him to slowly rub his large hand up and down her spine. Her hand stayed clamped on her knees. Each finger dug into the worn fabric and putting pressure on the joints.

"Are you okay?" They asked in unison.

"Bad dream," Clarke answered first. "What happened with Bryne?"

Bellamy huffed and shook his head in anger.

"She is a piece of work. I have never hated someone more than her. She couldn't find me when she supposedly needed me, so she brought me in for questioning."

"Why? I thought she was backing off a little since the threat with the Mountain was over." Bellamy's hand gently caressed her skin back and forth in a soothing manner. She could feel her tense muscles loosen with each pass.

"It's the same thing as before. She is terrified that we are going to start a revolt. She threatened to make sure that the people that followed us would find out who I really was."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know. I'm not a good guy, but that isn't a shock to people. They know that." The look of complete and total self-loathing on his face hurt her. She reached forward and cupped his face.

"This planet, Bel, is cruel. You sacrificed parts of you because of that. That is what people see."

"Yeah," he muttered. She could see that he didn't believe her. He had no idea that people would follow him anywhere. The 100 believed in him, even if he couldn't. She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I love you," she whispered, once she had moved away from him. He looked at her with a tenderness that nearly stopped her heart and made sparks of heat bloom in her chest.

"I love you too." He placed his lips on her forehead and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. She was the perfect height. Her cheek was nestled against his thin shirt. He rested his chin against the top of her head. She was sure her hair was probably tickling his throat, but he seemed completely content as they swayed together on top of the dusty hammock unaware of the two onlookers in the corner.

It wasn't until one cleared their throat that Clarke and Bellamy disentangled themselves from each other. Clarke's face would have turned dark red in embarrassment, except she wasn't. She loved Bellamy and wasn't afraid or worried about what anyone thought.

Octavia cocked her eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest as she stared her brother down.

"Sorry for interrupting," she said.

"Sure you are," Bellamy said, a teasing smile beginning to peek at the corners of his mouth.

Octavia's gaze turned away from them and glanced towards the ceiling.

"Rivo showed me upstairs." She was quiet for a beat before she faced them again. "He didn't recognize me. He didn't even seem to hear me."

"He's in pain. It's clouding who he is at his core. The drugs will go through his system, and he will come back to you," Clarke said softly. "I promise he will be the man that you knew. The important thing now is that you help him. Talk to him, help us keep him comfortable, make sure that he keeps drinking water. It will be a few days before he starts recovering."

"Can you help him, though?" There was a look of complete and total fear. It was cracking through the mask that she was trying to wear.

"We are going to try our best. I can't guarantee anything, but he isn't the first person that we helped. We know what we are doing now."

Bellamy stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"He will be fine, O," he said soothingly. Octavia's eyes peered at her brother. Clarke could tell that she still felt frightened over the idea that Lincoln might not make it, but her internal strength took over her fear and demolished it.

Clarke's eyes were drawn to where Rivo was standing. His brow was knitted together as he glared at the floor.

Clarke clenched her fist and had to stop herself from crossing the room. She instead dismissed herself from the space. She walked past Rivo with a detached manner, climbed the smooth, slick metal ladder, and pushed the heavy dropship hatch open.

The heavy thud of the door sliding to a stop above her made her take a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself.

Voices floated up through the hatch as she clambered to her feet in an ungraceful manner. Her legs caught on a metal grate. She grabbed at the fabric and cursed as she felt the fabric give. A small hole appeared above her knee. Clarke cursed and stared at the hole in anger. She stumbled away from the grate and ambled past a plastic sheet.

Bellamy had hung the sheet that morning for privacy. It provided just enough coverage that Lincoln wouldn't be able to see her while she was keeping watch.

Her eyes immediately settled on the man as he came into her sights.

Startling images hit her as she stared at the hunched over figure in chains. A lifetime ago, Bellamy was torturing this man in this exact position. Sweat was rolling down his chest as he panted and strained against the chains.

But Lincoln wasn't that same man. The man in front of her was still panting, still sweating, still in pain, but now he was defeated. He wasn't the same man. Hatred, fear, and pain possessed him, turning him into the bloodthirsty, broken monster. His head hung limply on his shoulders as he moaned. Clarke wished that she could help him more.

"Lincoln," she whispered. His head snapped up. His eyes were clouded with rage as he stared her down. "Lincoln, it's Clarke. I'm going to help you."

She took another step.

"I'm here, and Octavia is here. Bellamy too, but I doubt that is a selling point to you. The point is that we are here and we are going to help you. You are really sick right now. You were poisoned, but if you let us help you, you'll make it, which is really good because Octavia missed you. She didn't think you made it out of the Mountain."

Clarke took another few steps toward him but stepped back as his screams became hisses and shrieks. He thrashed against his chains and began to shake them as if he could rip them off the wall.

A hand on her arm sent her reeling back.

"Jesus, Bel" she cried, "You have got to stop sneaking up on me!"

"Sorry," Bellamy said. His brown eyes made her soften as she saw the remorse gleaming in them.

"I can't believe that we are back here again," Clarke whimpered as she turned her head back to Lincoln. "Rivo brought up something. Something that I didn't even consider."

"What?" Bellamy looked at her curiously as she turned more towards him.

"Lincoln still has drugs cycling through his system." Clarke pointed at his neck. "Look at how fresh the marks are. He might have been given the drugs right before he attacked us, but Mount Weather said they destroyed them and we had our people there making sure that they kept their promise."

"But all the drugs obviously weren't destroyed," Bellamy stated slowly. His voice was deep as he thought about what she was suggesting.

"Exactly, Bel. But it couldn't have been Mount Weather. It was someone on our side. Someone who was participating with the removal of the drugs from the Mountain."

Bellamy's eyes narrowed, and she could see them darken as he considered her words.

"Fuck!"

Clarke's sea blue eyes widened as she stared at the growing outrage on his face.

"Bryne."

"Bryne wasn't there," Clarke argued. She distinctly remembered her mother complaining about Bryne who kept trying to advise her mother on the distribution of medical supplies.

"No, she wasn't, but Jonathon Jones was, as well as several of the older guardsmen."

"Why?"

Bellamy nodded his head towards Lincoln who was still snarling and jerking pointlessly on the chains.

"Mindless soldiers. An army of mindless soldiers."

"To control-," Bellamy interrupted her with a shake of his head.

"Reapers can't be controlled. They only destroy things when they are this rabid."

A container crashed behind them causing both Bellamy and Clarke to jump. Clarke internally cringed as her eyes locked on to Octavia's face. Octavia's eyes were glued on the water that had run out of the canteen and slowly began seeping in an outward motion. Her eyes darted up, and a look of fury spread across her face. She had seen Octavia look like that quite a few times since she had gotten to know the young girl.

That look was usually followed by rash actions and dire consequences.

"Octavia," she started, moving closer towards the thin girl.

"Someone did this on purpose," she muttered quietly.

"No-"

Clarke glared over her shoulder at Bellamy as he began to tell his sister a lie.

"We don't know for sure," Clarke finished. It was Clarke's turn to be on the receiving end of Bellamy's dark gaze. She could see the ticking in his cheek that signaled that he was grinding his teeth together and trying to stop himself from speaking thoughtless words fueled by his concern for his sister.

She turned so that her mouth was hidden from Octavia's sight. She mouthed "no lies" before turning back to Octavia.

"We are speculating, but Octavia you can't act on a speculation. Promise me that you are going to stay here. Promise us that you won't do anything on a whim."

"How can you ask me to do that?" Octavia's voice was fracturing. "Look at him, Clarke. Bellamy," she pleaded. "They turned him into this."

"O," he said, lowly and slowly, "I promise you that the person who did this will be found and we will act on it, but if it is true, then we can't create mass hysteria to do it. We can't let something like the Murphy situation happen again."

Octavia's hair fanned around her face as her head tilted downwards. Clarke didn't move as she waited for the teenager's decision.

"I understand," she whispered in defeat. "This will stay here."

Bellamy took another step forward and grabbed his sister's hand before leading her more into the room. He slowly moved her until she was standing in front of his body, gazing at Lincoln's drained form.

"Just help Lincoln, and I will take care of the rest."

A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter, or not, feel free to leave feedback. I definitely want to know what you think!

In addition, I am sorry for the long delay. Life has gotten in the way. I am still incredibly busy, so I am not sure that I am going to be able to commit to regular updates, but I do want to say that I won't abandon this story.