The 1oo. A fan fiction (Season One)

Chapter Thirteen: The Truth

    I groaned as I sat up, feeling a pounding in my brain. This is why I hardly drink. I thought, rubbing my temples. I yawned and looked beside me, seeing Bellamy facing away from me, snoring softly. I smiled and crawled from the sleeping bag. I tugged on my boots and then my necklace and ring, since those were the only things I managed to take off before passing out cold the night before.
    I kissed Bellamy gently on the cheek and started to leave the tent, when a hand wrapped around my ankle. I sighed. "Bellamy, I have a watch shift that you assigned me to. I have to go." I told him without turning around. Suddenly I was pulled backwards by two strong arms that had wrapped around my middle. I yelped and tried to free myself. "Bell, not again!" I cried, feeling his curly hair tickle at the back of my neck.
    "Just five more minutes, please?" He asked me, jutting his lower lip out at me as I turned onto my side, propped up on my elbow.
    "Fine. Then I have to go." I sighed, feeling a little relief as I snuggled into Bellamy's chest. He rested his chin on my head and squeezed me. "Careful of my hand." I warned, gently moving my hand to rest on his side.
    "I was. You know I was." He muttered, nestling his face into my hair. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. He smelled like the forest, since that's where he'd been for the past week we've been here. But the sweet things about it. "I love you." He whispered to my hair.
    "I love you too. Now let me go. I have to release Wells from his watch." I squirmed out of his grip and sat up, tugging my shirt down.
    "One more kiss?" He asked, his voice sounding innocent.
    "Okay. Just one more." I leaned back over and kissed him on the forehead. He frowned at me.
    "You missed, you know." I kissed the tip of his nose.
    "How about now?" He shook his head. I kissed his cheek. "Now?" I asked, my voice low.
    "Still no." He whispered. I let my lips hover over his for a second.
    "Now?" I whispered, my voice low and loving, then I pressed mine down. His lips were soft and inviting me to stay longer, but despite me wanting to, I had a job to do. I pulled away reluctantly. "I'll see you tonight then." I winked at him as I climbed out of the tent.
    "Sounds good!" Came the shouted reply. I grinned wildly as I headed toward where Wells post was. I didn't see him right away so I called out to him.
    "I hope you didn't fall asleep. You know Bellamy's gonna be-" That's when I saw him. Lying there, his eyes glassy, laying in a pool of his own blood. There was a deep cut on the side of his neck, and blood was dried around it. His right hand was missing his pointer and middle finger.
    Dropping to my knees, a tremendous wave of grief washed over me and an unearthly wail echoed through the forest. It took a moment for me to realize that it was mine. Tears gushed from my eyes as I reached out to his body, gently caressing his hand in mine. I scarcely heard Bellamy call my name, then the running footsteps behind me. I just sat there, sobbing uncontrollably as I felt someone crouch beside me. I looked up and through my tears, I saw it was Bellamy.
    I dropped Wells' hand and flung myself into his chest, burying my face into his shirt. I felt his arms wrap around me tightly as he held me. I sat there sobbing as he gently rubbed my back, talking soothingly. I didn't hear most of it because I was to wrapped up in my memories and thoughts.
Every moment, every memory with Wells washed over me all at once, sending more tears streaming down my face. I felt the vibrations of Bellamy's voice as he instructed some of the other kids who had come to see to take Wells' body to the grave site.
    "Wells, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" I cried, reaching for him as they took him away. Bellamy was still holding me tightly, talking calmly to me, telling me it was going to be alright.
    "It's gonna be okay, Shayla, I promise. We'll find who did this and get justice for him, okay?" I nodded, still crying. We sat there for about five more minutes. Bellamy had moved to sit up against a tree, calmly dealing with my tears wetting his shirt. He rested his hand on the back of my head, keeping my face turned away from Wells' blood. I didn't feel anything anymore. Not the searing pain in my hand, the pounding of my headache, the uncomfort of the dirt floor, nothing. All I felt was the grief. And when that was done, rage and vengeance.
    "I swear on my life, Wells, I will avenge you." I whispered into Bellamy's chest, my hands curling into fists. Soon enough I stopped crying and we were just sitting there, the early morning light dappling down on us from above. I saw Clarke coming our way, her eyes red. She crouched down beside us and took my hand gently in hers.
    "Is she okay?" She whispered to Bellamy. I felt him shrug beneath me.    
    "She's hardly said a word since she found him. We've just been here ever since." He replied. Clarke looked at me and shot me a small smile.
    "Shayla, I think Wells would have wanted you to have this." She said, holding out his navy blue jacket. I bit back the fresh tears that threatened to spill over at the sight of it. I sat up, pulling away from Bellamy and taking the jacket.
    "I remember how much I loved this jacket. He always lent it to me, since I never had my own. That's how amazing a friend he was." I said wistfully, tugging the jacket on my body. I zipped it up to my chin and stood up. I realized I was shaking, so I leaned back into Bellamy for support. Clarke reached over and placed a hand on my shoulder.
    "His grave's been dug. I want to talk to you by it, okay?" She asked me. I nodded and let go of Bellamy to take Clarke's outstretched hand as she led me away.
We reached the grave site a few minutes later. She sat down at the foot of a fresh one, which I assumed was Wells', and I sat beside her. "You know, Wells told me the truth. About who told his dad about mine." Clarke said after a moment of silence. I felt tears spring up behind my eyes.
    "He made me swear not to tell you. I'm so happy you know now." I said, my voice soft as I tried to keep from crying again. "Clarke I just realized something. If I wasn't drunk, Wells wouldn't have had to take my watch shift. I was supposed to have that shift. It's my fault he's dead." I trailed off, letting a tear drop from my lashes.
    Clarke grabbed both my shoulders and turned me to face her. "Shayla Angelica Collins, do not blame yourself, this is not your fault at all. You would've been the one dead if this was the grounders. You know how much more of a pain in the ass Bellamy would be after that?" She smiled at me. "You can't blame yourself, okay? So get that thought out of your mind right now." She instructed, hugging me. I squeezed her back and pulled away.
    "I'm gonna avenge him, Clarke. I swear it." I said firmly, getting to my feet. "I'm gonna go take my watch shift. I'll talk to you later." I gave her shoulder a squeeze, then headed back toward where I had found Wells. My heart leapt in my throat at the sight of his blood, but I didn't feel sadness. I only felt the anger and the vengeance. I sat down next to the pool of it and swept some dirt over it.
   Staring out into the depths of the forest, I knew I had to learn to be strong. He was dead now, and I did blame myself, despite what Clarke said. I brought my knife out from my pocket and steadied the tip just behind the healing burns on my right hand and dragged it sideways, wincing as I watched blood flow from it. I squeezed some onto the ground where Wells' blood.
    "A blood promise. Don't worry Wells, the person who did this won't get away." I said grimly, watching the blood drip off my fingers onto the ground. I didn't dare treat it, because I wanted the scar as a reminder. After it clotted, I didn't bother to clean the blood off my hand, either. I just sat there, watching the forest and waiting for my chance at revenge.