The City of Light (Bellamy Blake x Reader)

VIII - Stealing Fire

Miller, Harper, and I stood in one of our meeting rooms, tense, trying to think of what to do next. At least, I was. No way in hell was I going to let Pike kill my father. I paced around the room, biting at my nails, my mind buzzing with half-assed plans and feeble ideas.

"Will you stop pacing?" Miller grunted after a while. "It's not going to help your dad."

I shot him a glare and halted my pacing. "Shut up, Nate. It's not your dad whose life is on the line here."

Silence. Harper and Miller exchanged a woeful glance. Both of them pulled me into a hug, and while part of me wanted to fight it, I didn't. Now was not the time to antagonize the only friends I had left. Everyone else was on Pike's side, outside the camp, or high on whatever pills Jaha was handing out.

A knock on the door pulled us from our group hug. We exchanged a wary glance, and then Miller went to open the door. The knife in my boot was painfully cold against my skin, and I bent down a little, ready to grab it a moment's notice. Over Miller's shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Bellamy's face, and I grit my teeth.

"What do you want?" Miller said, his voice sotto.

Bellamy held a finger up to his lips, and cocked his head. Slowly, Miller opened the door. Monty and Bellamy entered the room.

I scowled. "What do you-"

Bellamy shushed me, and I glared, but obeyed. From his utility belt, he pulled a knife and stepped towards Miller. Instinctively, I pulled my own weapon from my boot, as Miller went for his gun.

"Hey." Bellamy held his his free hand out, and stepped closer to Miller. He grabbed his jacket, but Miller outstretched his arm, pushing Bellamy back. "It's okay."

I watched, eyes narrowed, as Bellamy cut away the patch on Miller's jacket, and then handed the knife to him. Bellamy rooted around inside Miller's jacket and pulled out a bug. I pursed my lips and returned my weapon to my boot. Monty took the bug and wrapped it in some material I didn't recognize.

"The bag blocks the signal," Monty explained. "Now we can talk."

"Who put it in there?" Miller challenged, pointing at his jacket.

Bellamy countered, "That's not important right now. Pike just sentenced Lincoln and Sinclair to death alongside Kane."

Now I itched for my knife again. But perhaps it was good I had sheathed it, because had it still been in my hand when he spoke, it might have ended up through his shoulder. I wanted to scream at him instead, but I was so rigid with anger I couldn't move. All I could do was shoot him a fiery glare.

Harper scoffed. "Are you trying to scare us?"

"No!" Monty reassured us. "We're here to help. I'm sure you have a plan to break them out. What can we do?"

Keeping my voice as gruff and flat as possible, I said, "What are you talking about?"

Monty furrowed his eyebrows. "Y/n, come on."

"Look, we can help from the inside to pull this off," Bellamy offered, and I curled my hands into fists. After everything he'd done, what made him think we believed he would help? Several times we'd put out an olive branch, coaxed him to take the right side. But every time he showed his true colors. I didn't see how this was any different. "We need people to hand them off to on the outside."

Miller stepped in front of me. I wasn't sure whether it was to keep me from attacking Bellamy or to protect me from him, but either way I was grateful. And I took a poisonous victory in the hurt flashing in Bellamy's eyes. "We seriously don't know what you're talking about."