FEAR ON FIRE ♡ Bellamy Blake (s.u)

♡ N I N E T E E N - fuck. fuck. fuck. ♡

♡ N I N E T E E N - fuck. fuck. fuck. ♡

♡ ♡ ♡

Meeting in Bellamy's tent came quickly. Clarke seemed to get her cry of distress; she barely got the words S.O. before the blonde girl rushed out of the room, the brunette following after her, giving her the information to meet in Bellamy's tent. 

"The knife was made of metal from the drop ship." Clarke says as she examined the dagger that the three had found. 

"What do you mean?" Octavia asked, confused at what the blonde said. 

"Who else knows about this?" Clarke questioned the three delinquents, glancing at them. 

"No one. We brought it straight here." Octavia replied. 

"Clarke?" Bellamy was beyond confused now, and needed the girl to explain her thoughts.

"The Grounders didn't kill Wells. It was one of us." Rosie concluded as she got to where Clarke hinted. The revelation made sense: Wells was last on watch; he's the Chancellor's son, aka the most hated person on camp; the knife was made from the drop ship metals. Everything seemed to click together as they went over what Rosie said. 

"So there's a murderer on camp?" Octavia asked, trying to confirm what they're getting at. 

"There's more than one murderer in this camp." Bellamy informed the group. "This isn't news. We need to keep it quiet." 

"Get out of my way, Bellamy." Clarke hissed, trying to push past the man. 

"Clarke, be smart about this. Look what we've achieved." Bellamy said, point towards the direction of camp, "The walls... The patrols... Like it or not, thinking the Grounders killed Wells is good for us." 

"Oh, good for you, you mean. What... keep people afraid and they'll work for you? Is that it?" Clarke spat, not believing the man and what he just said. 

"Clarke, I actually agree with Bellamy for once. Look I know you want justice for Wells, but this is beyond us. Maybe keeping them afraid is helpful for us. The fear of the Grounders is building that wall out there. Them being afraid of the Grounders would keep us working together, united. If we go out there and say that one of us killed another, it's only going to pitch us against each other. And before you know it, the Grounders won't have to take us out, we'll do that ourselves." Rosie tried to persuade the blonde, who only glared at the brunette in return. 

"And besides, what are you gonna do? Just walk out there and ask the killer to step forward? You don't even know whose knife that is." Bellamy pitched in, agreeing with what the brunette completely. 

"Oh, really? J.M. John Murphy. The people have a right to know." Clarke exclaimed, showing them the initials on the knife. 

"Could be John Mbege." Rosie muttered, as the group followed the fuming Clarke Griffin. 

"You son of a bitch!" Clarke screamed as soon as she reached Murphy, pulling his shoulder backwards to get him to face her. 

"This is not going tO END WELL." Rosie exclaimed, looking over to Bellamy Blake, who was already looking over at her with an unrecognizable expression.