Beatrix Blake and John Murphy share an intricate history of bitter resentment, as the lines between love and hate blur, they grapple with shared histories, betrayal, and the unpredictability of their feelings.
SLOW BURN enemies to lovers.
The 100.
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"Who were you with?" Bellamy pressed.
"No one, I just went off looking for Octavia and got lost." Beatrix defended
"No you're not that stupid." He replied instantly, and she could tell he was getting frustrated.
"I'm not lying to you Bellamy." She spoke sincerely, confused as to why he wouldn't believe her.
"Don't lie to me Beatrix." He warned
"Like I said. I got lost, went into the cave when the horn went off and I got attacked. Nothing more to it." She mumbled, watching her brother's gaze harden. "Why won't you believe me?!"
"You're lying. I will find out what was going on, believe me". He spoke, pushing the girl down. "Just lay down and rest". She was still in the drop ship, recovering next to Finn, who didn't look as lucky as she did.
"Octavia?" She questioned.
"Oh we found her, I'll get her." He mumbled, and she felt a little hurt that Octavia hadn't come to see her already.
But all she could hear were the muffled cries and pained gasps carried through the thin metal walls of the drop ship, reaching Beatrix's ears with an eerie resonance. She closed her eyes, desperately wishing she could block out the harrowing sounds. Her thoughts raced as she tried to make sense of the situation.
But she was mostly curious. With great effort, Beatrix pushed herself upright, wincing at the pain in her side. She fumbled for the opening of the drop-ship and pushed it aside, her gaze locking onto the scene that had been going on above her, revealing Bellamy standing over a Grounder, his face contorted with rage.
"We're gonna try this one more time."
"What's happening-" She uttered, her body still weak from the stab wound she had sustained. Clarke had done her best to stitch up the injury, and Beatrix's eyes were heavy from the pain and blood loss she had been in for hours before anyone could find her.
Clarke appeared at Beatrix's side, concern etched on her face. "You shouldn't be out of bed," she whispered urgently.
"Where's Octavia?" She questioned, the only thing she could really care about in the moment.
"We sent her out, she couldn't handle watching this".
"Well fair enough, to be honest." She mumbled, making her way back down to the camp.
After the intense and emotionally charged events of the night, Beatrix found herself sitting by the campfire, wrapped in a blanket. The agony of her stab wound was still present, but her focus had shifted from her own pain to the overwhelming desire to see her sister again. "I can't find her, but she went off with one of the others, she'll be fine." Clarke whispered. She understood the situation, otherwise she probably wouldn't of let her leave the bed.
