Pretty Lies (Bellamy Blake Fanfic)

Murphy's law

Another one bites the dust. I think as I watch Finn and Clarke bury Wells's body. Clarke has been crying all morning since the body has been found, but everyone else seems unfazed in his death. Bellamy managed to turn his death around in his favor, and now everyone is rushing to build a wall around the camp to protect themselves from the grounders. I walk away from the grave, wanting to give Clarke some alone time with the body to say her goodbyes.

I spot Bellamy overlooking a group of teens setting up wooden posts for the wall and I walk over to him. "A wall will only do so much if no one knows how to protect themselves." I observe and he gives me a tired look.

"What would you have me do about it?" he asks and I give him a dashing smile.

"Let me help. I can at least teach them the basics." I tell him and he runs a hand through his unruly hair. 

 I can tell he's exhausted. Between dealing with Clarke's nagging and the campers who have nothing but questions, he's had a rough week. No one knows hardly anything about the grounders, and people are expecting Bellamy-as the leader-to know more than anyone else.. but we still have no idea why they're even attacking us. 

"After the wall is built you can do whatever you want Kitten." He sighs and I give him a large smile. I find myself doing that a lot when I'm around him-smiling. 

"I wasn't necessarily asking for permission. The offer goes to you too of course. Do you even know how to use that wonderful gun of yours?" I joke and he shakes his head. 

I can see a small grin beginning to take root on his face, and he rolls his eyes."I can take care of myself, plus I wouldn't want to hurt-" His sentence is cut short when Octavia and Jasper run towards us, anxiousness clear on their face.

"We found something. Come on." Octavia urges, eyeing the campers around us carefully. Neither of us hesitate before following her into one of the many tents built among the camp, where Clarke is already waiting inside. 

 The tent is dimly lit  by the setting sun, so it takes my eyes a few seconds to adjust. Clarke jumps back when we all come rushing into the tent, and she looks at us with wide eyes. "What's going on?" she demands, and I assume this is her tent we barged into. Octavia hastily dumps the contents of her pocket onto the table and I grimace.

There are two lone fingers wrapped in cloth, along with a knife now sitting on the steel platform. I look at the objects cautiously, and watch as Clarke picks up the knife. I take another glance at the fingers, and it finally clicks on who they belong to; Wells. 

"This metal was from the drop ship." She reveals and Jasper's face pales. I take a closer look at the knife in Clarke's hand, and notice the grooved markings on the blade. One look between the knife and fingers will tell me it's a match. 

"What do you mean?" Jasper asks, and I shake my head, the seriousness of the situation increasing. 

Someone from camp killed Wells. Not the grounders. If the campers were to find this out.... there would be no more wall building. This could cause more trouble than it's worth. "Who else knows about this?" Bellamy asks somberly. Octavia looks down at the table. Her face is pale when she looks at the finger, and she winces before answering. 

"No one, we brought it straight here." Bellamy nods his head, his eyes looking up to the ceiling as he thinks. 

No one says a word at the revelation, but it's clear Jasper hasn't made the connection yet, because he keeps looking at us for answers. None of us give him one.  "Clarke?" Jasper pushes and she sighs, shaking her head.  A pained look covers her face, and I purse my lips, waiting for the words to leave her mouth.