Psychopath | | Bellamy Blake

And I, for you

**WARNING**

Part of this chapter consists of heavy topics, including rape, and while I know it can be upsetting, it is important to the storyline. If you do not want to read it, just skip this chapter, although you might not understand a few parts in the near future.

James leaned up against the back of the dropship, gulping in big breaths of air. Bellamy watched him with a pained expression from a few feet away as Clarke talked with Murphy.

Heaving sounds broke him out of his trance as Derek threw up large amounts of blood on the floor, his hands propping himself up. After a few seconds more, he collapsed - and didn't get back up.

"Is he?" James started as Clarke moved closer. She pressed her fingers to his throat, a grim look telling them all he needed to know.

"He's dead."

James leaned forward as he felt something metallic come up his throat, coughing out a few dark splatters of blood. He could sense Bellamy making a move toward him, so he stuck out his hand.

"No, don't come any closer. You've already been in contact with me too much."

"He's right," Clarke started, grabbing a nearby glass bottle. "Here, alcohol - hold out your hands."

Both Finn and Bellamy complied, reaching out. Clarke poured out a good amount as both boys rubbing it in and shook off the excess. "Now, what do we do?" Finn asked, worry in his eyes similar to Bellamy; but directed at Clarke.

"Quarantine. Round up everyone who had contact with Murphy. Bring them here." She ordered him, Finn jogging off to comply.

"And everyone they had contact with?"

"Well, we have to start somewhere." Clarke turned around towards the other guard.

"Connor, who was with you when you found him? Who carried him in, think."

"Octavia," James answered for him, fear for the girl's safety racing through him. "Octavia was with them."

Bellamy's eyes widened, glancing at James one last time before rushing off to find his sister.

***

James didn't remember when he had passed out, he remembered seeing Octavia, but his mind had gone blank after that.

When he awoke, he could still feel the raw, metallic taste of his own blood coating his mouth, and he could see various splotches of evidence around him.

He could hear distant gunshots with screams following. He felt a bit better, and he wasn't throwing up blood anymore, which he assumed was good.

As he gazed around, he couldn't see Octavia in the mass of infected people lying around - which gave him just a bit of hope that she was okay.

He managed to use a metal handle to pull himself to his feet, spitting out more remnants of blood. He could hear a voice, which proved some people were okay - but he still had to see for himself.

As he got closer to the makeshift door, he could identify the voice, Clarke's. "This is exactly what the grounders want. Don't you see that?"

He brushed the fabric aside, stepping outside of the dropship. Most of the delinquents were in a circle, all of them looking fearful and angry.

"They don't have to kill us if we kill each other first."

His eyes locked with Bellamy, who had just noticed him. The older boy's brows scrunched together in worry, but James brushed it aside as he looked at Clarke.