ᴇɪɢʜᴛ : ɴᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇs
⋆

"Bring out the girl, Bellamy!"

The whole situation has been a whirl wind. One minute Murphy is being hanged, and the next he's stalking outside of the tent Bellamy, Charlotte, Finn, Clarke, Clara, and Rez are hiding in. As Murphy paces outside, he shouts threats and nasty words to the young girl inside.

Charlotte is shaking terribly, her nose running and her eyes filled with terror. She knows what Murphy will do when he gets his hands on her, it isn't hard to decipher with him basically screaming out his horrific plans.

Clara sits on Bellamy's cot. Her head is in her hands as she tries to process everything.

This girl, the one with whom she shared her berries, killed Wells and tried to kill her as well. Although it wasn't expected, Clara can't say she isn't surprised. The girl gave off creepy vibes from the beginning.

Bellamy squats in front of Charlotte to get eye-level with her. "Why, Charlotte?" He asks, practically pleading to get her reasoning behind her murderous actions.

Charlotte sniffles and wipes her nose with her sleeve. "I was just trying to slay my demons, like you told me."

Clarke's eyes snap to Bellamy. "What the hell is she talking about?"

It dawns on Bellamy. His face falls and he stammers, "She, she misunderstood me. Charlotte, that is not what I meant."

"You told her to slay Wells?" Rez asks, his brow pulled forward.

Bellamy throws his hands up. "No, and it was a metaphor!"

From outside, Murphy continues to shout, "Bring the girl out now!"

"Please don't let them hurt me." Charlotte cowers away from the tent's closed entrance.

Bellamy stands and looks to Clarke and Finn. "If you guys have any bright ideas, speak up." Silence fills the tent. "Now you stay quiet."

Finn frowns. "Hey, those are your boys out there."

"This is not my fault," Bellamy says, growing defensive. "If Clarke had listened to me, those idiots would still be building the wall."

Rez sits next to Clara and asks quietly, "Hey, you good?"

"Peachy," she murmurs, her voice quiet enough so only Rez can hear. "I feel so secure with the fact that I'm in the same tent as the person who stabbed me."

Charlotte picks up on Clara's words. The young girl steps towards her, but when Clara recoils, Bellamy takes Charlotte's arm to stop her movements.

Charlotte lets out a sob. "I didn't want to stab you, I promise! I saw that you left and I didn't think you'd come back, but when I saw that you did, I knew that you'd see me, so I had to."

"Hey, Charlotte, you're not helping your case at all," Rez snaps.

"You want to build a society, princess?" Murphy's sadistic voice calls. "Let's build a society, bring her out!"

Charlotte's eyes widen. "No! Please, Bellamy."

Bellamy takes Charlotte's shoulders and tries to calm her down. "Charlotte, hey, it's gonna be okay." He gnaws on his bottom lip, trying to find a way out of this huge mess. He glances back at the others. "Just . . . stay with them."

Without another word, Bellamy walks out of the tent, leaving Clarke, Finn, Rez, Clara, and Charlotte. Clara glances at Charlotte as she cries pitifully. Unable to stay in the same tent as her, Clara slowly rises from the bed and makes her way to the entrance of the tent.

"Hey, where are you going?" Finn asks.

"I need some air."

Clara pushes the tent flaps back. As soon as she steps outside, the sound of Bellamy and Murphy shouting at each other reaches her ears.

Murphy has a murderous look on his bruised and scratched face as he stares Bellamy down. "So, it's okay to string me up for nothing," he yells, his voice raw, "but when this little bitch confesses, you all let her walk? Cowards! All of you are cowards!"

Clara looks back at the tent, wishing she had stayed in there instead. Murphy may not have deserved to be hanged, but he is definitely unhinged right now and Clara doesn't want to be near him.

"Hey, Murphy!" Bellamy bellows, gaining Murphy's attention. "It's over."

Murphy lets out a breathy chuckle, wiping under his nose with his knife in hand. "Whatever you say, boss."

Something doesn't sit right with Clara at his words. They are too collected to be truthful, especially after what Murphy just went through.

Unlike Clara, Bellamy is satisfied with Murphy's words. He turns, and when he spots Clara, he asks, "Is Charlotte—"

Before he can finish, Murphy picks up a log from the ground and swings it like a baseball bat at the back of Bellamy's head. Clara jumps back, eyes wide as Bellamy falls unconscious and collapses. Her arms shoot out to catch him, but her lack of upper body strength and her bad shoulder make it impossible. Clara ends up somewhat lowering Bellamy to the ground until completely dropping him.

Octavia gasps and rushes forward. Jasper lunges at Murphy, but Murphy steps forward and punches him in the face before he gets the chance to do any harm.

"Bellamy!" Octavia shrieks, on her knees next to Clara.

Clara wipes the sweat off her forehead and looks down at Bellamy's unconscious, bleeding face. "That boy is heavier than a truck." When Octavia sends her an odd look, Clara says, "Can you go get a wet rag?"

Octavia nods and springs up, running towards the drop ship.

"Hey! Come on," Murphy calls, gathering some boys. "Let's get the girl and make her pay."

Murphy swipes the tent flaps open, halting in his tracks when he doesn't see Charlotte, Finn, Clarke, or Rez.

"They fled!" Murphy shouts angrily. "Come on, let's search the forest for the little bitch."

Murphy and his group storm the forest, their forms disappearing from sight quickly. The other campers who stick around stare down at their leader with worry.

Jasper, wiping away the blood under his nose, addresses the crowd. "Nothing to see here, get back to building the wall!"

Surprisingly, they follow Jasper's orders.

Clara looks down at Bellamy anxiously. There's a big gash on his temple, and there is blood trickling down. Clara hopes he doesn't have a concussion, but knows that with their luck, he probably does.

Not knowing what to do to help him, Clara runs her fingers through his dark hair so it's out of his face. She gently taps his cheek, whispering, "Wake up, c'mon. Bellamy, please wake up."

After a few more taps, his eyes snap open. It scares Clara, the curly-haired girl falling back on her hands with a gasp.

Bellamy groans and sits up, his hand immediately going to his head. "Son of a bitch."

Octavia returns. She hands Clara the damp rag before turning to Jasper, another rag in hand for him. While Octavia tends to Jasper, Clara awkwardly says, "Uh, here, let me clean that for you."

Still sitting in the ground, Bellamy turns and looks at Clara. He spots the rag in her hand and asks, "Where's Charlotte? Does Murphy have her?"

"No, I don't think so," Clara replies, trying to comfort him, though her words aren't all that reassuring. Bellamy tries to stand, but Clara grabs his arm. She quickly retracts her hand when she accidentally feels his muscles. She clears her throat uncomfortably. "Let me help you first, you might have a concussion."

"That's not going to keep me from stopping Murphy."

"Yeah, I know," Clara responds curtly. "I didn't think it would. Just let me clean the blood and bark off your head, would ya?"

Bellamy blinks at her, mentally battling with what to do, then sighs. He scoots closer to her and leans in.

Clara tries to hide her awkwardness as she reaches out and dabs the wound with the rag. As she does this, Bellamy's eyes are trained on her, studying her. Her face feels hot under his scrutiny. Unable to take the silence, she blurts, "I'm not calling you fat, but you are a lot heavier than you look."

Bellamy replies casually, "It's all muscle"

"Sure it is."

Bellamy is taken aback, offended, but then he sees the playful smirk playing on Clara's lips. He laughs and asks, "Are you done yet?"

Clara wipes the last bit of blood from his face, her eyes lingering on his before lowering the rag. "Yeah. Go get Charlotte."

Bellamy nods and stands, the seriousness of the situation creeping in. He holds a hand out for Clara, which she takes and lets Bellamy help her to her feet.

As Bellamy turns to trek through the darkened forest, Clara calls out, "Bellamy, wait!"

He stops and looks over his shoulder at her.

"Don't kill him, please."

Facing the forest again, Bellamy continues on his way with determination. "No promises."

★

It's early in the morning, before the sun even starts to rise, when there's movement outside the walls. Miller alerts Octavia, who gently shakes Clara awake. She doesn't waste time stretching or getting fully woke up and heads to the gates as quickly as her wounded side lets her. The rest of the delinquents make their way to the front of the camp as well.

At first, Clara only sees torches. When they get closer, she can make out Clarke's face, then the others'. Although relief washes over her at the sight of Rez, her stomach drops when she notices two missing faces: Charlotte and Murphy.

Bellamy walks into camp. His face, like the others, is grim. Clara latches onto Rez a brief hug before letting go and turning to Bellamy.

"Where's Charlotte and Murphy?"

Bellamy looks down at Clara, and she's surprised to see his eyes glistening in the moon light. He takes a deep breath. "We banished Murphy."

"Banished?" Clara repeats, shocked. "He's going to die out there."

"Like he deserves," Bellamy replies gruffly.

Clarke's voice rises above all the chatter, using her professional tone as she speaks to the camp. Clara doesn't listen and follows Bellamy after he shoulders past her.

"Couldn't we have just locked him up or something? He was just hung for a murder he didn't commit and he was acting on his rage, Bellamy, and understandably so. I don't think banishing—"

Bellamy suddenly stops walking and turns on Clara, making her flinch back as he shouts, "You should just be glad I didn't kill him myself, okay? You weren't there, he made Charlotte jump off a cliff, Clara. He is responsible for her death, and he threatened to slit Clarke's throat. The only reason why I didn't kill him was because of you!"

Clara gulps, her eyes darting to curious campers glancing over at the commotion.

Bellamy stops himself before he lets his emotions get the better of him and he says something he'll regret. He looks away, his features twisting as he battles with himself. A tear falls from one of his eyes, and he immediately wipes it away, turning and storming into his tent. The flaps sway shut behind him.

Clara stands there, frozen in her spot. Her thoughts run wild, but she isn't able to comprehend a single one.

Octavia rises from her spot by Jasper at a camp fire and walks over to Clara with a furrowed brow. "What was that about?"

Clara shakes her head. "Is it a bad idea to go in after him?"

"Probably," Octavia replies, glancing at her brother's tent with worry. "Boys usually don't like it when girls see them cry, so I'd wouldn't if I were you."

Clara frowns. "Okay." She turns around and spots Rez sitting by himself near the gates. She says a quick bye to Octavia and lumbers over to her best friend.

His eyes are duller than usual, and there are bags under his eyes. Clara wonders how much he saw that night and decides it's too much for someone his age to witness, whether or not he saw Charlotte jump or Murphy get banished. Even without tonight, he has gone through too much.

Clara eases herself down to the ground next to Rez and leans against the wall behind them. Rez doesn't acknowledge her presence, but he doesn't need to. Clara wraps her arm around his shoulders and rests her head against his.

Rez leans his head against hers in return, his gaze on the ground never faltering. "I'm so tired."

Clara bites her lip. "I know." She looks out at the other campers and realizes something: these kids aren't kids anymore. They're survivors, fighters, living in an unpredictable world that could swallow them whole at any given moment.

★

Clara changes the bandages on her side while Rez and Octavia lounge around the drop ship at dusk, talking. Well, it's more like Rez trying to flirt and Octavia being oblivious. While the three are occupied, Jasper and Monty focus on more pressing matters. Monty has Clarke's open wristband wired to the drop ship in a complicated mess he has been working on relentlessly for the past week.

Jasper asks, "Will we be able to talk to them?"

"No, it's be more like morse code," Monty replies. "You want to do the honors of turning it on? Switch that port right there."

Jasper bites back a hopeful smile and reaches out, flipping the small switch. A second of silence passes, then the wristband around Rez's and Octavia's wrists malfunction. They spark and then unclasp, falling to the ground with a clang.

"What the hell?" Octavia exclaims, looking over to Monty and Jasper.

Jasper's eyes widen as he turns to Monty. "What happened?"

Monty holds up Clarke's wristband and examines it, his face falling as he realizes all of its power is gone. "It didn't work. I think we fried all the wristbands."

Clara rips the end of the bandage with her teeth and ties it off. She lets her shirt fall over her torso and then slips off of the table she was perched on. She rests each hand on Jasper's and Monty's tense shoulders. "Hey, you guys did your best. Like you said before, Monty, our resources are limited. It's not your fault that it didn't work out."

Jasper scoffs. "I think I'm just cursed."

"If you're cursed, then we're all cursed." Clara straightens and starts towards the drop ship entrance. "Hey, O?"

Octavia peers over at Clara in question.

"Do you know where Bellamy would be?"

"He's probably in his tent," Octavia guesses. "Make sure you knock before entering, though. He has a habit of sleeping without any clothes."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks." Clara shrugs on her jacket, ignoring the aching pain in her shoulder that she still gets whenever she moves her right arm. Outside, the air is warm against her exposed skin. It's also heavy and humid from the rain earlier that morning, so it frizzes the curly hair on Clara's head and makes her feel like a lion.

Like Octavia said, Clara knocks on the wooden post beside Bellamy's tent. She waits a second before holding the tarp aside, letting herself in.

Bellamy looks up at Clara. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, his hair a mess and his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped together by his chin. Thankfully, Bellamy is completely clothed, a dark blue shirt on with dark pants. He isn't crying anymore, but he still looks completely wrecked.

When he meets Clara's eyes, Bellamy straightens and clears his throat. "Do you need something?"

"No." Clara scratches the back of her neck awkwardly. "Octavia said you'd be in here."

"Well, it is my tent, so . . ."

"Right." Clara clears her throat. "I just wanted to check in on you . . . to make sure that you're okay."

Bellamy purses his lips. After a beat of tense silence, he scoots over. "You can sit down."

Clara smiles at him warmly and steps over, taking a seat on his bed next to him. She moves too quickly and winces at the pain in her side.

"Are you okay?" Bellamy turns to her more fully, his gaze laced with concern as he looks down where her stitches are.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine," Clara assures, immediately wiping away all the pain from her features. She came here to make sure that Bellamy is okay, and here he is, asking if she is. She really needs to up her game. "Look, Bellamy, I'm sorry if I made you upset this morning when you guys came back to camp. I had no idea about Charlotte, and I wasn't there, so I don't know the full story."

Bellamy doesn't speak for a while, his eyes piercing into Clara's. She holds his gaze to try to show that she's sincerely sorry.

Finally, Bellamy says, "You don't have any reason to apologize." He looks down and reaches for his boots, slipping them onto his feet and starting to tie them.

Clara doesn't back down. "Yes, I do."

"No, you don't."

"Okay, fine," Clara gives in, not wanting to argue with Bellamy. She came here to mend things, not make them worse. "Then don't accept my apology, but know that it's there."

Bellamy continues lacing up his boots.

Tone softening, Clara asks, "How are—"

"If you came to talk about feelings, you might as well leave," Bellamy cuts her off lowly.

Clara frowns. "I'm just making sure that you're okay—"

"I'm not, so go away, please."

Bellamy realizes his gaze is too soft, so he hardens it, glaring at Clara. She bites her lip and nods, standing. "Fine." She leaves his tent without another word.

Outside, Clara finds Rez with Octavia by a campfire. Octavia looks up at the sound of leaves crunching under Clara's boots. "Hey, how did it go?"

Clara sits on the log, her shoulders slouched. "I don't think your brother likes me all that well."

Octavia raises her brow. "Why? Did he say something stupid? Do I need to go beat him up for you?"

"No, he didn't—he's just overwhelmed, I think, and he told me to go away again," Clara explains briefly, pulling her hair back in a ponytail. She glares at a coil of hair that pops right out of the ponytail and hangs over her face.

Octavia leans closer to the fire with her hands extended for warmth. "Don't take it personally, Bellamy just likes to act like he doesn't have emotions."

Clara frowns, but doesn't question it.

"Hey, check it out!"

"Woah, what is that?"

"Is that from the Ark?"

At the voices arising from the delinquents around camp, Clara cranes her neck to look up at the darkening sky. A bright light moves among the stars like a comet.

Octavia stands on the log. "Bellamy, get out here!" she calls out, never taking her eyes off of the sky.

Seconds later, Bellamy emerges from his tent. He scans the camp until his eyes fall on Octavia. She points skyward.

"Look, up there."

A crowd has formed of delinquents trying to see the light. As it continues to move, it becomes apparent that it's falling towards earth.

"They're coming to help us," a random delinquent, Jones, announces. "Now we can kick some grounder ass."

Another delinquent, Roma, has a jacket wrapped around her shoulders. "Please tell me they brought down some shampoo."

Clara glances over, silently agreeing. Her hair has been uncontrollable ever since their first day and it just seems to be getting worse.

"If it cleared the ridge than it's probably near the lake," Clara observes, turning to Bellamy.

"We should get moving, then," Octavia adds. "Everyone's ready."

Bellamy avoids making eye-contact and turns away from everyone. "No one's going anywhere. Not while it's dark, it isn't safe. We'll head out at first light; pass the word."

He retreats back to his tent. Octavia scoffs and jumps down from the log, blocking Bellamy's exit. "Everyone for a hundred miles saw this thing come down. What if the grounders get to it first? Bell, we should go now."

Bellamy keeps his gaze leveled and cold. "I said we wait until sunrise, and that's that." When he walks around Octavia and disappears inside his tent, the younger Blake throws her hands up, frustrated.

"Why does he want to wait?" Rez speaks up, just as confused as the others. "I would have thought he'd be the first one out of here."

Octavia shakes her head and looks away from her brother's tent. "Honestly, who knows with him anymore."

With nothing else to do, the delinquents return to their sleeping arrangements. Clara and Rez get ready to lie down by the fire, but Octavia invites Clara to sleep in her tent while volunteering Jasper's for Rez. The friends quickly accept her offer. Sleeping in a tent, especially in a forest full of grounders, is much more desirable than on the ground.