SWEET LITTLE LIES // BELLAMY BLAKE // THE 1OO

FOURTEEN

✿ FOURTEEN ✿

"Tu as le cœur à rire,

Moi, je l'ai à pleurer."

___

With a look of disgust on her face, Katherine looked at the chopped off fingers and knife that was lying on the metal table in the Dropship. As soon as Jasper and Octavia had shared their experiences outside the walls of camp, casually stumbling unto some fingers from Wells and a knife, they had retrieved Clarke to start an emergency meeting.

Katherine would have rather gone to her tent with Nate and the cub, that wasn't a cub anymore really, but both Bellamy and Clarke insisted that she should attend. Which caused her to stand around the table in a manner that suggested that she wasn't slightly interested in what was about to happen. 

 "This knife was made from metal from the Dropship," Clarke noted, grabbing the weapon from the table. 

That did catch Katherine's attention and after a moment of hesitation, she observed the knife. The pattern on the handle of the knife, the yellow-painted stripes, caused Katherine to start feeling nauseous. She had seen that knife before, but where? She bit the inside of her lip.

"Who else knows about this?" Bellamy asked. His face carried a grave expression as he looked from Jasper to his younger sister, who was standing on Bellamy's other side. 

"No one, we brought it straight here," Octavia replied, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "Well, after we brought it to your tent, of course."

Katherine looked from Bellamy to Clarke, the latter giving her a knowing look. Both of them had come up with the same conclusion, that there was an active murderer in camp. And then, as the world seemed to slow, and Katherine's vision blurred, she remembered when she had seen that knife before. The first day, when she had stayed with Wells and someone had threatened him. That someone had stuck his knife to her face, and that somebody was none other than Murphy.  

Though it was very plausible, it made Katherine's knees grow weak. She took a staggering step towards Clarke, gaining the attention from the other people in the tent, and though she swore she would never touch a knife again, she pulled the weapon from Clarke's hands. The inscriptions on the handle of the metal made her even more queasy. 

"What is it, Katherine?" Bellamy asked, and when he grabbed Katherine's shoulder, she looked up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Immediately he let go of her, coming to the conclusion she must have been far away in that ungraspable world of hers. 

"It's Murphy's," Katherine said, her voice croaking like she hadn't spoken forever. "But it can't be."

"Sorry to burst the bubble you had of your Romeo, sweetheart," Katherine heard Bellamy say, causing her to give him a nasty glare. With a loud smack, she threw the knife on the table, ready to get in Bellamy's face for saying such a thing, when Clarke said something that agitated her even more. 

"The people deserve to know. Get out of my way, Bellamy."

"Clarke, be smart about this. Look at what we've achieved... the wall, the patrols. Like it or not, thinking the Grounders killed Wells is good for us," Bellamy said, while he crossed his arms. His voice was reasonable and Katherine noticed he didn't use half of the authority he normally used with her. It didn't matter, though, because Clarke was anything but convinced. 

"Clarke, just hold your horses for a minute," Katherine said. There was a slow, but steady ache coming up inside her head and she had no doubt that within a couple of minutes hear head would feel like somebody put a thousand rubber bands around it.