❝i realize that only one person will be damaged beyond repair if peeta dies. me.❞

-katniss everdeen, mockingjay

♛

BELLAMY WASN'T MY FIRST kiss. That's a whole nother story involving a boy named Caleb that I dated at age fifteen pre-arrestment. He was the generic cute guy- dark hair, blue eyes, and teeth so straight it was almost uncanny.

Yeah, he turned out to be a jerk. I dumped him just two months before I was caught.

I had been in solitary for a year, which meant no human contact after I had been moved there. The most people I saw at a time where the two guards who brought my meals three times a day, and when they handed me the stupid notebook and pen that became my lifelines.

Solitary For a Year meant that I spent hours talking to walls instead of people in the distant hope that I wouldn't be socially awkward when - if - I ever got out. Solitary For a Year meant I hadn't kissed anyone since Caleb.

I guess I wasn't horrible, because Bellamy didn't appear to be disgusted at any point afterwards. He just seemed a little bit lighter on his feet like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

That same night, Jasper and I are back on gunpowder and bomb duty. As we walk to the dropship, he tries to explain the science behind it, but he's no Raven and so I can't understand a word he's saying. I'm more a visual learner anyway.

"And then when you mix the gunpowder with the--" Jasper's voice immediately cuts off when he holds the cloth to the dropship aside for me and notices Bellamy standing at the table, fumbling with pieces of scrap metal. Things between the two of them are tense because Jasper wants to attack the Grounders right now instead of waiting. The tension between them is so thick that it even makes me go silent.

When Jasper moves toward the ladder, Bellamy quickly turns around and asks, "Don't you think I want to go after them, too?"

Jasper stops walking and responds lowly, "If it was you out there, you think Monty, Clarke, or Finn would hide behind these walls?"

I bite my lip and put my hand on Jasper's shoulder, trying to avoid the gun in his hands. "Trust me, Jasper. It's taking all my willpower to stay here and think of a better plan when I want to charge into the Grounder camps as much as you do. Think about it- we don't even know where they are."

Jasper's lips pull into a line and sets the gun down on the table Bellamy had been leaning against, sending a sour look towards the boy. He grabs onto one of the rungs of the ladder and is stopped by Bellamy.

"Where are you going?"

Jasper raises his right hand in a mock salute. "More gunpowder for your minefield...Sir."

He climbs the ladder without another word, leaving Bellamy and I alone. Myles groans in pain from the far wall of the dropship. I make my way over to him and press the back of my hand against his forehead. It's warm and damp with sweat.

"How's he looking?" Bellamy asks, joining my side and examining the injured boy.

"Good for someone who was shot with three arrows," I respond, turning to the bowl of water that's sitting beside him. "Fever sometimes accompanies trauma, and I've kept the wounds as clean as possible."

"Water...please," Myles croaks out in a feeble tone. His eyes open to slits. When I look closer at the bowl, I notice there's no ripple. It's completely empty.

"I'll get it," Bellamy offers. "That way you can go upstairs and help Jasper with the gunpowder until I get back."

I nod gratefully at him, meeting his eyes. "Thank you."

"No problem." Bellamy turns and walks out of the dropship with the bowl in his hand. I move Myles' messy brown hair away from his face and glance down at the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his thigh. It'll need to be changed soon, but it's fine for now.

I quickly climb the ladder and join Jasper on the top level. He's staring at a wide, metal cylinder that's labeled: 'GUNPOWDER. THIS CRAP WILL BLOW YOUR DAMN FACE OFF!!' It doesn't surprise me in the least- I can practically hear Raven saying it.

"So, what do we do?" I ask as I come to a stop next to Jasper. The small table is littered with small, red containers and other miscellaneous scraps. Jasper picks up the gunpowder and chuckles at its label.

"We pour this evenly into the smaller containers," he informs me. "Then we cap 'em and they're set for exploding."

I nod with pursed lips and take on the role of capping the red cylinders. It doesn't take long at all, but when I'm just about to finish off the last one, I hear a thunk from below. The sound echoes up into the second level from how quiet it had been.

"That's Bellamy," I tell Jasper. "He got some water for Myles. I gotta go back down and help him. Could you do this last one?"

"Yeah." He nods in confirmation, jerking his head down to the ladder. "Go save a life."

I send him a smile and step down the ladder as quietly as I can, though that doesn't take much effort. With my eyes on my feet so I don't lose my balance, I soundlessly move to the first floor and brush my hair out of my eyes.

"That was fas--"

My eyes go wide and I freeze when I notice it's not Bellamy who's standing right by Myles' immobile body. It's Murphy. There's a black plastic bag over the injured boy's head; I can't hear him groaning in pain anymore. He's dead. Murphy killed him.

We stare at each other for a good few seconds before we both lunge for the gun at the same time. I make it to the table before he does. My fingers lock around the barrel, while he takes the handle. With a growl, I ram the back into his gut as hard as I can, causing him to wheeze. Murphy's hands reach out to pry my fingers away, ripping at my skin and scratching up my hands. He stomps on my foot and takes my cry of pain as an opportunity to rip the weapon away and point the barrel right between my eyes. I slowly raise my arms above my head in surrender with my blood rushing in my ears.

Jasper's voice calls from above, "Fallon? You okay?"

My eyes drift up to the open hatch just to my left. Murphy loads the gun, never wavering in his stance.

"You call for his help, I shoot you," he threatens lowly with his lip pulled up in a sneer. His face still has dried blood on it from his horrible wounds during his time with the Grounders, though they seem to be healing alright. The faint red marks make him seem even more sinister than usual.

My heart thumps wildly against my ribcage. I can't believe I'm back in this position against Murphy. My mind takes me back to the moment when he had the knife against my neck and was threatening to kill me or let him take my wristband off, when Bellamy had suddenly saved me. Now there is no choice between live or die. And Bellamy isn't here.

Jasper slowly comes down the hatch at the pace of a snail. His hands go outward in defense when Murphy points the rifle at him, jerking his head toward me and forcing Jasper to come by my side so he can aim at us both at once. I swallow thickly as my terrified gaze locks with my friend's.

"Murphy, just put the gun down," Jasper tries to compromise in a low, breathless whisper.

Murphy glances back at Myles' body behind him with the gun pointed at the floor. "H-He tried to kill me." Jasper quickly grabs my biceps and forces the two of us one step backward while his guard is down. As quickly as we move, the weapon becomes pointed at us again. "Hey, don't move!"

"Okay, okay," Jasper sighs, brown eyes still widened in fear. "It's cool."

Murphy smirks. "No, it's not. You know what'll happen to me if you two tell Bellamy."

"Tell Bellamy what?"

My breath comes rushing out in a shaking sigh of relief when I hear his voice come out of the walkie-talkie. Jasper's hand has been in his pocket almost the whole time, and Bellamy has heard almost every word that's been exchanged. Jasper's eyes cast down to the floor and he mouths, "Damnit."

Murphy closes his eyes in exasperation. "Give me the radio, Jasper."

Jasper slowly pulls the walkie out of the front pocket of his jeans. As fast as lightning, he raises it to his mouth and announces in a flood of words, "Murphy has a gun. He killed Myles--"

Murphy reaches back and slams the side of the gun into Jasper's cheek, knocking him to the ground. I drop my burning arms and hit our captor across the face in the hardest punch I can muster. He stumbles back at the force, landing against the table and causing scrap metal to fall to the floor with tinkling clamors. The gun rams into the tender area just below the center of my ribcage, causing me to suck in a gasp at the sharp sensation that floods to the rest of my body. The loaded gun is once again positioned at my head.

"Murphy, what the hell are you doing?" Bellamy's voice asks from the radio.

Murphy holds up a finger to me and sends me a warning look. As quickly as he possibly can, he drops the gun and leaps to the right of the door, pulling the level that controls it. My uneven breathing increases as it begins to close on us with a loud grating sound, trapping Jasper and I inside with a murderer.

Just before it closes, I can faintly here Bellamy shouting from just outside, "Murphy! Murphy! Open the damn door!"

"You try to be a hero, Jasper and Fallon die," Murphy yells back in response just before the door shuts indefinitely with a boom.

--

My stomach growls as my fingers wiggle from behind me. The lower part of my back is sore from sitting down for so long. But, hey, at least Murphy has the decency to let us sit in chairs. The downside? We're gagged and tied to said chairs.

Neither of us have slept all night. I don't even know if it's daytime yet. All I know is that Bellamy is heeding Murphy's warning and is at least keeping us alive as long as he can until he figures something out.

"Murphy!" Octavia's furious, muffled voice comes from outside. "Murphy, if you even touch Fallon or Jasper, I swear to God, you're dead."

Murphy chuckles and toys with the gun cradled in his arms. "She couldn't kill me if she tried."

I look up and glare at him with as much loathing as I can throw into one look. Jasper is seated beside me, tears pooling in his eyes with the seatbelt still gagging his mouth. The one on mine is close to cutting into the edges of my lips. Instead of tearing up as Jasper is, I haven't stopped sending Murphy looks of hate.

"Murphy, I know you can hear me," Bellamy says from the walkie-talkie that's laying on the table. Murphy raises his eyebrows as he covers Myles' body with a blanket. "All our ammo and food is on the lower level. You know that. You're leaving us vulnerable to an attack. I can't let that happen."

Murphy picks up the radio and holds it up to his mouth. "Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, you're not exactly in control right now."

"Come on, Murphy," Bellamy replies with a hint of amusement in his tone. "You don't want to hurt them, you want to hurt me." Murphy glances at his two captives and raises an eyebrow. "So, what do you say? How about you trade them for me?"

This time, my eyes fill with surprise instead of hate as his words sink in. I begin shaking my head furiously, trying my best to speak with a seatbelt in my mouth. "No. Take me. Let Jasper go and kill me!"

Murphy sends me a wry smile, meaning he was actually able to understand me somehow. He replies into the radio, "I don't think your little Amazon warrior likes that idea. You should hear her." He raises his voice in a failed attempt to mimic mine. "'Take me! Let Jasper go and kill me!' Pathetic. But, let me tell you: the offer is extremely tempting."

"All you have to do is let them go, and I'll take their place."

I can hear the desperation in his voice, especially after he heard about Murphy considering my sacrifice. It sends a punch to my gut.

Murphy locks his gaze with the two of us again, taking in Jasper's tear-filled eyes with a sick expression of glory. He's basking in how much power he has. Two leaders are offering to be killed- it's a better bargain than he planned.

"How?" he asks into the walkie.

"Simple," Bellamy answers, sounding irrationally calm for someone who knows he'll die if he carries out with this plan. "Simple. You open the door, I walk in, they walk out."

Murphy keeps his eyes trained on us as he taps the side of the radio where the antenna is. The wait is agonizingly long and drills a hole into my chest.

Instead of responding, Murphy heads to the lever and pulls it back up, releasing a hiss from the door as it opens with a spill of dust. I don't know whether to be relieved or terrified when he heads over and yanks the restraints off of Jasper's wrists. His arms spring free and he rubs at the angry red marks on his skin where the seatbelt had dug in. Murphy uses a knife to cut the gag and my fellow captive lets out a gasp of relief. He stands, legs wobbling so badly that I'm afraid he may fall.

Murphy takes the strap that had been tying up Jasper's hands and uses it to bind mine tighter. My frightened and confused gaze meets his; it's clear he doesn't intend for me to walk out anytime soon.

"What about Fallon?" Jasper asks weakly. Murphy doesn't respond. Instead, he grabs Jasper's sleeve and forces him toward the ramp that has finally lowered.

"Just you, Bellamy, unarmed," Murphy warns at the top of his lungs. "Ten seconds or I'll put one in Fallon's leg."

He begins counting to ten, and when he gets to five, Bellamy shouts, "I'm here!" from outside the cloth that covers the entrance. It's pushed aside as he walks in and Murphy shoves Jasper out as hard as he can. The taller boy loses his balance and tumbles down the ramp to Octavia, whom I presume is standing at the edge, nervous for her brother.

Bellamy's eyes meet mine. They go wider than usual upon noticing that Murphy has taken no move to release me from the chair that's tied to a support beam. I have no escape, and he knows it.

"The deal was Jasper and Fallon," he reminds Murphy with a sharp glare toward the boy who has his hand on the lever that controls the door.

Murphy shrugs innocently. "Whoops."

He yanks the lever down, closing the door once again with another boom. I sigh and look up at the ceiling for condolence. Surely there must be someone with a plan to rescue us.

"What's your plan, Murphy?" Bellamy demands harshly with his eyes narrowed and filled with hate. "Me, I understand, but Fallon? What could you possibly want from her?"

A smirk grows on Murphy's face. "Oh, I don't want anything from her. I just want her to watch." There's a long pause in which the silence is so stifling that I almost choke on it. "Take the seatbelt and tie a loop."

My eyes travel to a loose seatbelt that he already has draped across the table. An uneasy feeling grows in the pit of my stomach as Bellamy's gaze does the same, but he makes no move to grab it. Murphy fires a shot at his foot, narrowly missing the edge of his shoe. Bellamy quickly reaches over and grabs the red fabric from the table. He holds it clenched in both of his fists.

"That's good," Murphy praises sarcastically, raising his gun to Bellamy. "Then do what I said."

A static-filled crackle comes from the walkie-talkie in Murphy's pocket. "Bellamy?" Octavia's worried voice comes out of the speaker. "Are you and Fallon okay?"

"You want her to know you're alive?" Our captivator questions with an amused smirk. "Start tying."

"Bellamy!" Octavia exclaims. "Do you copy?"

Bellamy bends down and starts creating a loop in the seatbelt. "I'm fine," he reports loudly enough for Octavia to hear through the radio. "Just a misfire. Fallon's okay, too." He shoots a troubled glance at me and swallows thickly. "For the most part. Now stop worrying about us and get back to work, all of you."

I'm almost able to chuckle at how Bellamy-ish that response sounded. How typical of him to shoo off other people's worry about him and force them to think for themselves.

Bellamy's gaze meets Murphy's when he finishes, "And tell Raven to hurry her ass up."

I knew it. That single sentence alone is enough to give me hope that there, in fact, is a plan involving our rescue. Hopefully it happens fast enough.

"All right, that's long enough," Murphy says as he releases the button on the side and shoves the walkie back into his pocket. "Tie those two ends together." I release a shaking breath as Bellamy does as he's told and finishes the knot. When he looks up at Murphy for his next direction, what he instructs makes my heart nearly stop. "All right. Now get up and toss it over."

It's all I can do to let out a strangled shout of protest. It's obvious what the plan is: Murphy's having Bellamy hang himself. And he's going to make me watch.

Bellamy looks at the support beam above his head and flops his head to the side upon realizing what's going to happen. Nevertheless, he stands and throws the seat belt over the beam. I can only see the back of Murphy now, but I can assume that he's smiling in accomplishment because of what Bellamy replies with.

"What do you want me to say? You want me to apologize? I'm--" He takes a step forward, which Murphy holds up his gun even more firmly to in response. Bellamy sighs. "I'm sorry."

"You got it all wrong, Bellamy," Murphy rebukes calmly. "I don't want you to say anything. I want you to feel what I felt, and then..." A pause. "Then I want you to die."

That final sentence is what makes me lose it. A muffled scream escapes my bound mouth as my hands struggle to free themselves of the impossibly tight restraints around them. I shake my head as much as I can with the gag in my mouth, tears wetting my eyes as I shoot Bellamy a pleading look. What have you gotten yourself into?

Murphy laughs cruelly. "Guess she doesn't like that idea much. What are you going to do, Bellamy? Your Amazon is all tied up. Her King is about to be slain. Maybe I should just kill you both."

Bellamy's eyes meet mine again and fill with sadness at the sight of the tears about to spill over in mine. The restraints are almost cutting off the circulation in my hands, but the pain I feel there is nothing compared to what's going on in my heart as he stares at me.

"You're not killing her," Bellamy commands lowly after his line of vision switches back onto Murphy. "You can kill me, but not her."

Murphy points his gun at a rectangular, metal stool that's positioned near the table. "Grab that stool and drag it under the beam."

I can barely talk with the gag choking me, but I cry out what I hope sounds like, "No!" over and over again until Murphy tells me to shut up. Bellamy does as he's told and positions the stool beneath the loop he created out of the seat belt.

"Stand on it," Murphy orders. He's clipped the end of the seatbelt to another that's connected to the table behind him, so that he has all the power in the world over whether to let Bellamy go or leave him to choke.

Of course, he obeys and steps up.

"Put it over your head."

I shout and kick my feet out, struggling against the restraints that make my skin go white with how tight they are. The tears have spilled out onto my cheeks by now and run down my face at a consistent pace. They enter my mouth, leaving a salty taste on my tongue that tastes almost acidic.

"This is insane," Bellamy croaks out above my noises of protest. "The Grounders could--"

Murphy juts his gun out to his right and fires two bullets at the wall, probably to make it seem to everyone outside that we're both dead. My throat burns with the salt from my tears and how much I've been yelling. My cries turn into whimpers as I try to catch my labored breaths.

"Put it over your head," Murphy repeats more sternly than before, wrapping his hand around his end of the seatbelt. Bellamy obediently pulls the loop down and hangs it around his neck with a fierce look of anger in his dark brown eyes.

I'm back to hysterics again, with wrenching sobs coming out and nearly choking me from the tightness of the gag. My arms twist and writhe in futile attempts to release them. It only makes the pain worse as the rough fabric finally digs deep enough into my skin to cut it open. A sharp stinging sensation burns from the fresh cuts, causing more tears to run down my face.

Murphy releases the seatbelt, causing it to tighten. Bellamy is forced to stand up straighter and yanks the strap away from his neck as much as he can. He sends Murphy a glare full of loathing.

"You're so brave, aren't you?" Our captivator asks snidely. "I mean, you came in here thinking you're just gonna" -he grabs onto the seat belt and swings it around - "turn this whole thing around, that you were stronger than me, and maybe one of your friends would come and help you. Well, what are you thinking now, Bellamy? Hmm?" Murphy yanks on the belt once more, causing Bellamy to go straight as a board and use both hands to hold the loop away. He gurgles, feet barely touching the stool as his face increases its color. His normally olive-toned skin is now growing redder by the passing minutes.

"Please, don't! Don't do this!" I shout out of pure desperation, but it sounds a lot more like, 'Pwee, don! Don do dis!' with the stupid gag. I cry out in pain at the sharp sting of the cuts on my wrists that burn every time the seat belts rub against them, which is every time I move. I can feel them digging deeper and deeper as the tears stream down my face.

"You know, I got to hand it to you, Bellamy," Murphy taunts as he looks up at the boy with the loop around his neck. "You've got 'em all fooled. They actually look up to you, almost as much as they look up to Fallon or Clarke." He sucks in a breath. "Yeah, well, we know the truth, don't we? You're a coward. I learned that the day you kicked out the crate from beneath me. Isn't that what you said? That you were just giving the people what they wanted, right?"

"I should've stopped them," Bellamy replies in a heavy tone that I can barely hear over my sobs and the shuffling of the chair against the metal floor.

"Yeah, it's a little late for that now," Murphy replies in a sneer and a nod.

"What happens after you kill me?" Bellamy questions. "You think they're just gonna let you walk out of here?"

"Well, I think the Princess is dead..." He glances at me, acknowledging my presence for the first time in a while. "And soon I'll have to kill the Amazon, too. Who's really gonna lead these people, huh? Me, that's who. And yeah, maybe I'll have to kill your Grounder-pounding little sister--"

Bellamy lifts up his foot and kicks Murphy as far away as he can, which is only about two feet. The smaller boy lunges to his left and yanks the end of the seatbelt down. Bellamy's body rises, the very tips of his toes barely grazing the stool that's threatening to topple over anyways. His eyes go wide as his breathing catches repeatedly.

Suddenly, a female voice yells in surprise from beneath the floor. I try to play it off as if it were me, but Murphy isn't stupid and obviously doesn't buy it.

"I'm guessing that's her right now," he says with a victorious smirk. Bellamy yells in protest as he begins firing several shots at the floor where the voice came from, but he runs out of bullets only a few moments later and the gun merely clicks when he pulls the trigger. Bellamy struggles with the seatbelt around his neck as the mousey-haired boy struggles to reload. He lunges forward upon noticing that his captive might set himself free.

Murphy kicks the stool out from Bellamy's feet before I can blink, and he shoots toward the ground with the sound of his pained chokes filling the air.

--------

wowza this chapter was long and eventful!!

ps: the reason fallon can do nothing is because her chair is tied to a support beam so she cant stand, she has double restraints around her wrists, and a gag in her mouth. murphy isn't stupid and knows she could get out if he had done any less

anyways i hope you liked this chapter! poor bell ): poor fallon ):

-kristyn