Only The Brave- The 100

-0.8-

"Bring out the girl, Bellamy!" John Murphy demanded. The boy looked like a classic villain from the horror novels Margaret used to read, with his face covered in blood and grime.  

Margaret had finally stood and retreated into the crowd, turning to a smaller brunette who she believed to be Octavia Blake. Whilst Murphy was distracted by his rage, she needed to catch up on what she had very obviously missed.

"Hey, what the hell happened?" She asked the younger Blake, her eyes flickering between her and the bloodied boy. Octavia looked up at her, eyeing the black liquid that drenched nearly Margarets entire jaw. 

"Charlotte killed Wells, but everybody blamed Murphy before she could admit it." The fear in her voice was apparent, her eyes too watching Murphy warily. Margaret finally fully looked at the younger girl and breathed heavily nodding her head, pieces of the puzzle fitting together.

"You want to build a society, princess? Let's build a society. Bring her out!" Murphy, blinded by rage, wanted vengeance, but by the sounds of things that meant more people getting hurt,  specifically a young girl.

"Murphy!" Margaret shouted, feigning confidence and stepping out from the crowd. He whipped around to face her, letting a low and cynical chuckle escape his lip.

"Stop this okay? Nobody else has to get hurt." Each of her words were careful, she was afraid that the boy would snap at any second, but she held onto the hope that the boy from the butterfly field was still there under all that anger.

For some cynical reason, Murphy seemed to take humour in the words that she spoke. "I don't think you have a say in any of this, Maggie. Where the hell were you, huh? Because I was there when you needed me, I held you when you were broken, but when I am almost killed you disappear." His words cut through her like a knife, because he was right. The two were close now, he loomed over her much more intimidating than when they had previously been in a similar position, the once innocent smiles and butterflies in their stomachs had been replaced with nothing but fear.

"I'm sorry. But I'm here now." She whispered, tears beginning to swell in her eyes and her lips quivering, the blood having started to dry down her nose and around her mouth. 

Everybody's attention shifted from the duo towards direction of Bellamy's tent, seeing the Blake boy emerging alone with his head held high. Murphy took a few steps forward to meet him.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to join us."

The two bickered like children, Murphy was far too blinded by his rage to see any logic or to even try and calm down. Bellamy on the other hand was doing a very poor job of defusing the situation claiming he was "just giving the people what they wanted" to which Murphy rebutted;

"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea. Why don't we do that right now? So, who here wants to see the real murderer hung up? All in favor??" Only a small few raised their hands, Margaret not included. She was too busy trying to think of a way out of this all logically and without letting emotions cloud her judgment.

"I see. So, it's okay to string me up for nothing, but when this little bitch confesses, you all let her walk? Cowards! All of you are cowards." Margaret could tell this was partly directed at her, in turn making her lower her gaze shamefully knowing she was a coward.

"Hey, Murphy! Murphy. It's over." Bellamy said calmly, thinking... hoping Murphy would finally settle. But Margaret could see it was not over, it was only just beginning. 

The camp had broken into chaos yet again. Murphy had slammed a fallen tree branch over the back of Bellamy's head rendering him unconscious. 

Ignoring Murphy gathering a group of boys and leaving the camp in search of Charlotte, Margaret as well as Octavia rushed to Bellamy's aid.