Chapter Thirteen

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Bellamy's POV

"He's banished," almost shouted Bellamy as he pointed toward the beaten teenager.

"I was running, from the Grounders" wheezed Murphy as his body shook.

"Get him in the drop ship. Now!" called Clarke as she ordered to bring Murphy in.

Bellamy couldn't believe it, less than two weeks ago, Clarke and he had decided together to banish Murphy, but now he was coming back? He gritted his teeth before he reached out his hand and clutched her wrist. "Clarke, he's fucking banished. We should kill-"

"He was with the Grounders, we need to find out if he knows anything." Clarke spoke bitterly before she ripped her arm apart from Bellamy's grasp.

Bellamy clenched his jaw and sighed before he followed Clarke into the dropship. "Are you crazy Clarke? Think about Charlotte."

"I am thinking about Charlotte, Bellamy. Murphy has answers, who knows what the Grounders are plotting against us."

Bellamy watched as Murphy curled up into a ball in the corner of the dropship, shaking hysterically. His eyes followed the tired blonde who was crouched next to Murphy, who was inspecting his hand.

"They ripped his fingernails off... They tortured him," mumbled Clarke as she let go of Murphy's hand. "Murphy, I need you to tell me everything you told the Grounders" pleaded Clarke.

"Everything," shuddered Murphy as he wrapped himself tighter in his own grasp.

"You fucking-"

"Bellamy, now is not the time. You need to take care of yourself," replied Clarke as she stood up to look at Bellamy.

"Don't tell me what to do" snapped Bellamy as he averted Clarke's gaze. He took a few steps towards Murphy, and bent down so he was on the same level as him. "What do you know about the masked men?"

Ever since Bellamy's encounter with the masked men, he wasn't able to function properly. The event kept replaying in his head; he was a broken record. He remembered how he stabbed the man, the horrified look on the mans face as he pleaded for his life. He remembered how they chained him in the dark, isolated room. He remembered the giant pit in his stomach that formed from days of starvation, or how his throat clawed for the sweet taste of a drop of water.

He remembered every bit of it.

"The... the what?" A puzzled look was smeared over Murphy's face as he looked at Bellamy.

"You heard me!" spat Bellamy as he grabbed Murphy by the hem of his bloody shirt. "The masked men... what do they want?!" screeched Bellamy; he pleaded for an answer.

"Bellamy stop!" called Clarke as she rushed to pull Bellamy away from Murphy. "You are delusional, you need to rest!" snapped Clarke as Bellamy gave her a cold, hard stare.

"Don't fucking tell me that I'm delusional Clarke!" Bellamy screeched as he backed away from her.

"Bell," Clarke softly spoke as she closed the gap between them. "I- I didn't mean to say that."

Bellamy could've said a lot of things in reply to Clarke. A big part of him wanted to tell her everything that he endured, all the pain, all the suffering. Why Clarke was the reason for a lot of the shit in his life. He wanted to yell at her, to cry with her, to pour his heart to her.

But after everything she had put him through, he knew he shouldn't. He couldn't. Instead, he changed the topic and mumbled "do you trust him?" as he gestured towards Murphy.

"Trust? No, but I do believe in second chances."

"What if he doesn't leave?" whispered Bellamy as he gritted his teeth.

"Then we kill him."

Clarke's POV

She knew how broken Bellamy was, she could tell just by listening to his voice, how it was filled with desperation, disappointment, fear.

Clarke didn't know what happened to Bellamy out in the woods, but Clarke was stubborn enough to pry it out of him. She wanted to be there for him, just like how he was there for her. She knew that Bellamy was absolutely angered with Clarke; for all he knew, Clarke was the reason for why Octavia ran away.

No matter how many times Clarke tried to do something, she always managed to screw up.

"Don't fucking tell me that I'm delusional Clarke!" Bellamy cried as he backed away from her like she was some sort of monster.

"Bell," she spoke softly, Clarke took a few steps closer to them to close the gap. "I- I didn't mean to say that."

"Do you trust him?" whimpered Bellamy, he quickly looked away from her. He couldn't bear to look at her, Clarke's heart sunk at the gesture.

"Trust? No, but I do believe in second chances."

"What is he doesn't leave?"

"Then we kill him."

Clarke watched as Bellamy slightly nodded his head in defeat before leaving the dropship. It pained her to see him like this, so fragile and vulnerable.

She heard a gagging noise that came from behind her, as Clarke turned around she was greeted by a choking Murphy as he sprawled all over the floor, coughing up blood.

-

It's been a few hours since Murphy arrived, Clarke told him to lay on his side if he was coughing up blood and instructed him to get some rest.

After her fiasco with Bellamy in the dropship, she couldn't stop but think about him. It ached her to see him so hurt, she wanted to know more of what happened to Bellamy out there. She wanted to undersand.

Clarke left the drop ship to take in a breath of fresh air. Her eyes wandered around camp only to spot a familiar figure sit on a log beside the fire. She noticed how his curls flowed in different directions, the leaves that hid in his hair was taken out. She saw how his broad shoulders bulged of his defined muscles. Clarke also noticed how he looked skinnier, and how his posture slumped over, compared to how he usually sits, with a straight back and a confident look on his face.

He was accompanied by a few other girls who were basically throwing themselves onto him; he didn't seem like he was having any of it.

Clarke approached Bellamy, her stomach had a weird feeling to it, was she nervous? Whatever the emotion was, she pushed it aside and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned around for her to see a two sticks of meat in his hand. Clarke tried to memorize all of his facial features, the heavy bags under his eyes. The busted lip from when Finn had punched him was slowly healing. The blood that once coated his face was gone, only the scars remained on his face. She looked at all the freckles on his face, how it splattered across the bridge of his nose and onto is cheeks.

"What?" hissed Bellamy as he gave her an unamused stare.

Clarke's thoughts were interrupted by a sickening feeling that rushed through her. Her knees felt wobbly and weak, her head started to ache as she felt something boiling up in her throat. She quickly turned her head away to cough up the metallic taste of blood. Her eyes widened at the sight of seeing her own blood. She tried to back away from him. Her knees gave in as she collapsed next to the pool of her own vomit, fluttering her eyes shut.

Before she blacked out, there were screams and panic that surrounded her; she heard someone call out her name as Clarke was quickly engulfed by strong arms.

A/N

I planned to write more for this chapter, but I haven't had a lot of time to write lately. I'll try to get out another chapter by the end of the day. Thanks for reading, please VOTE for this story if you like it!

-stupidspacewalker



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