𝐒𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀 「 B. BLAKE¹」

⋅⋆ xiii.

   "Murphy, get this guy some water," Bellamy instructed and turned to Charlotte, who had grown confident over the week. "Hey, you got this?"

   He was teasing, but she nodded, eager to help. As soon as she began to lift to up, he stopped her.

   "Hey, I'm just kidding." A smile appeared on his face — and hers — before he took the boy's place.

   Cleo gave a heavy sigh, not knowing what to do or where to go. She started to make her way back to the ship where she could hopefully find more bandage to rewrap her hand. There wasn't any medicine available, but the cool water and the bandages were better than nothing.

   Just as she got onto the ramp, Octavia came barreling down the ramp with Clarke and Jasper.

   "Have you seen my brother?" She asked.

   "Yeah, he's building the wall."

   Clarke grabbed her forearm and pulled her along. "You're gonna wanna see this."

   Cleo's eyebrows drew together in confusion, but she let herself get pulled into a tent. Seconds later, Octavia burst through the flap with Jasper and Bellamy, and the meeting started.

   Clarke showed them what she had been carrying in her hands — two fingers and a knife. Cleo almost gagged, but forced herself to look at the two fingers, a wash of dizziness coming over her.

   "Are those..." She started, but couldn't choke out the name.

   "Wells," Clarke finished. "And look."

   She held up the knife, one of their own. This wasn't a random grounder attack after all — it was one of them.

   "This knife was made of metal from the dropship." Clarke showed the knife she was holding.

   Her grip on it was tight, her hands flipping it over to observe it.

   "What do you mean?" Jasper asked, fear and confusion crossing his features.

   "Who else knows about this?" Bellamy asked.

   Cleo looked between the others in the room, hand hovering over her mouth.

   "No one," Octavia answered. "We brought it straight here."

   Jasper called out Clarke's name gently, displaying the confusion that surely everyone in the room was feeling.

   "It means the grounders didn't kill Wells," Clarke paused. "It was one of us."

   Silence fell on the group, a wave of uneasiness spreading through everyone.

   "So, there's a murderer in the camp?" Jasper asked the question on everyone's mind.

   Bellamy gave the group a discomforting look. "There's more than one murderer in this camp, this isn't news." Deep down, everyone knew he was right. "We need to keep this quiet."

   Cleo swallowed hard — should they keep it quiet? "Why should we?" She asked aloud.

   Clarke seemed to agree, gripping the knife and making a move towards the exit. Bellamy stopped her.

   "Be smart about this. Look at what we've achieved... the wall, the patrols. Like it or not, thinking the Grounders killed Wells is good for us," he argued.

   "Is that all Wells is to you? An event that happened to work out in your favor?"

   "Him dying wasn't good for any of us — but maybe it was to you, so you can keep everyone afraid and they'll work for you?" Clarke questioned.