Psychopath | | Bellamy Blake

Trust

James and Octavia walked into camp, the former taking deep breaths to calm his nerves.

He was still shaken up from Dax's death as the triumphant feeling had faded after a few minutes into a full-blown panic - but Octavia had helped calm him on the trek home.

Almost immediately, Bellamy was in front of them both, scanning them for injuries.

"You guys are late, scared me half to death,"

He looked behind them, only now noticing their third-party member was missing. "Where is the gunner, the one who left with you both?"

Bellamy, thankfully, hadn't known that the gunner was the person who had been causing his pain from day one - if he did, James was sure Dax would have been dead before they had even walked out of camp for hunting.

"We don't know; he just disappeared."

He had learned only to give enough details for a satisfactory explanation and not so many that it wasn't believable.

"Was it the grounders? Did you see them? Are you alright?"

Octavia shook her head, her hands tugging through her knotted hair.

Bellamy sighed, obviously frustrated that they had lost another gunner but relieved that the two were okay.

Octavia moved out of the way, gesturing to a boar they had dragged to camp - which was no easy feat - that lay dead behind her.

"Nice catch," He motioned towards the dropship. "You two can get cleaned up, and James - Monty and Raven needed to see you."

James nodded; he and Octavia about to walk off when something gripped his wrist. It was Bellamy's hand, staring down at it.

He looked down as well, confused on what prompted the movement but stilled as he saw a few splashes of bright red blood. Dax's blood.

"The boar, when I was carrying it, the blood must have..."

He trailed off, giving a weak smile, slowly tugging his wrist out of the grip as he stepped away - Bellamy nodding and returning the smile, although he looked a bit suspicious.

You see, Boar's blood was a much deeper red, easily distinguishable from human blood.

The last time Bellamy had hunted, he had noted the difference, and maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him - but that was no boar's blood on James' wrist.

He wanted to believe the boy; he trusted him more than ever, but trust is a fickle thing, isn't it.

***

James entered the dropship, climbing up to the second level in search of Monty and Raven.

Not finding them, he climbed back down, wandering out and around camp, trying to find them before spotting Murphy.

"Hey, Murphy, have you seen Raven and Monty?"

Murphy nodded, putting down the fish he was gutting and using the knife to point in different directions.

First - he pointed across camp towards the bonfire where Monty and Jasper sat, chatting.

Then, pointing towards Raven's personal tent.

James gave Murphy a warm smile, ignoring the dark pit in his stomach that was slowly forming.

It had started when he had first drove the spear into Dax, watching the light drift out of his eyes. Then, the whole trek home. And now, even when he knew he should be celebrating, he felt it there.