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BELLAMY HAS GOTTEN PARTICULARLY GOOD AT CONVINCING NOAH TO BE A PART OF PLANS SHE DOESN'T LIKE. But she still hesitates, watching them argue over Finn for what feels like the millionth time. Noah doesn't try and hide it either, genuinely unconcerned with his fate as of recently. He'd gotten her hurt and almost killed one too many times and it was the first time that she actually had something to live for. Death has been bumped down on her todo list.
But Bellamy was trying to play the role of morally reprehensible leader. As if he didn't want to pound Finn's face in for ever going near Noah— he was trying to save him. "Finn. You need to get out of here."
Clarke was one of two people who actually gave a shit. "Where would he go?"
"The dropship."
She disagrees instantly, chasing the quickly moving men through the halls. "No! You know that this is the safest place for him right now."
Bellamy furrows his brows. "It isn't if they're turning on him." He reminds her of all the Ark survivors that don't care about one measly criminal. "We can protect him at the dropship until we figure this thing out. Grab your gear and meet at Raven's gate in 5. She's already working on cutting the power to the fence."
Finn nods. "Ok, but nobody's coming with me."
Noah sticks out a thumbs up, pats his shoulder and mutters a sounds good before spinning in a circle to head straight back to the bed her and Bellamy came from. Bellamy rolls his eyes and holds Noah by the back of her neck and turns her around. "That isn't up for discussion."
Clarke peeks out the infested woods just outside the walls. "We are surrounded by Grounders."
Bellamy shakes his head softly. "If we split up, we take the low ground, we'll make it through. We'll meet at the dropship."
The same survivor from the night before, the one who proposed tossing Finn to the sharks right then and there, Noah learned his name is Griff. "There he is, you're gonna get us killed." Noah watches his gaze fall onto Bellamy, threatening him. "You're protecting a murderer, thought guardsmen are supposed to protect the innocent, not the guilty." The man is sizing up Bellamy, lifting a long lead pipe into the air with dangerous intentions.
But just as fast, Noah's hands are on the man and pinning him to the hard flooring, one arm behind his back and his other under her knee. He grimaces, whining in pain under her vice grip. Bellamy's shoulders loosen, almost beaming with pride, nodding with a sly smirk.
