We're Coming Home (Bellamy Blake x Reader)

IV - Murphy's Law

Wells was dead.

The news struck me hard, shook me to the core. I couldn't remember the last thing I'd said to him. Yesterday, I'd only smiled at him. And that was the last I would ever have the chance to do that. He wasn't my best friend in the world, but he was a big part of my childhood, and one of the kindest people to me in the camp. He understood my plight about being the child of a hated man. Now I was alone on that front.

The story of Wells' death circled around the camp and I'd heard it too many times. Found lying in the dirt, surrounding by a pool of his own blood, two of his fingers missing. Over and over, the story raced across my mind, taking over all of my thoughts. To make it even worse, there was no sign of the killer. No clues as to who it could have been. Everyone thought it was Grounders, which wasn't very far fetched, but I had my suspicions within the camp as well, which had only been confirmed when I was invited into Bellamy's tent.

Clarke, Octavia, Jasper, Bellamy and I all stood around a table, with a knife in the center. Octavia and Jasper had found it outside the wall just beside Wells' two missing fingers. Anger swelled in my chest. Only one person in the camp had such a vendetta against him, and Clarke seemed to pick up on that the same time as I did. On the hilt of the knife were the initials J.M., which put together with the events of the last few days could only mean one person.

Clarke stormed out of the tent, shoving past Bellamy, who tried to stop her. Part of me knew it might not have been a good idea to accuse Murphy, that it would cause chaos, but I was too infuriated to care and followed in her footsteps as she headed straight for the man that was the source of our suspicion.

"You son of a bitch!" She screamed, shoving Murphy roughly.

"Hey, what's your problem?"

Clarke shoved the knife in his face. "Recognize this?"

"It's my knife, where'd you find that?" He tried to take it from her but she took a step back.

"Where you dropped it after you killed Wells!"

Whispers broke out around us, and the anger and terror that had already been rooted in the camp skyrocketed. I could feel the temperment of the camp shift, as if the air itself was enraged at the news.

Murphy scoffed. "Where I what? The Grounders killed Wells, not me."

"I know what you did," Clarke spat. I had never seen her so scathing, not in all the years I'd known her. Admittedly, it was a little terrifying. "And you're going to pay for it!"

"Really? Bellamy, you believe this crap?" Murphy turned to Bellamy, clearly searching for support, but he remained silent and stoic, arms crossed, gaze hardened.

"You threatened to kill him!" I interjected, unable to keep quiet any longer. "We all heard you. You hated Wells."

"'Plenty of people hated Wells. His father was the Chancellor that locked us up!"

"Yeah, but you're the only one that got into an actual fight with him!" Clarke retorted.

"I didn't kill him then either!" Murphy said.

"You tried to kill me that day," I snarled.

"He tried to kill Jasper too," Octavia input, which was clearly news to Jasper.

Panic spread like a virus through everyone and soon they had all rallied against Murphy, hatred in their eyes. Fear filled the eyes of only one; Charlotte. As everyone drew weapons and began rioting, I knew I had to get her out of there. Chaos had no mercy, not for even a child like her.

"Come on, this is ridiculous!" Murphy protested. "I don't have to answer to you, I don't have to answer to anyone!"

"Come again?" Bellamy challenged.