The Traitor
"We should kill him."
Murmurs of agreement spread through the group of misfits huddled in front of Clarke Griffin much like a fire in a room full of oil. Disdain filled the blond as she slowly realized that the terrified teenagers had once again reverted to their original- albeit violent- instincts that had ruled when they were first sent to the nuclear war zone that once was the beloved Earth. Curious, Clarke mused, how swiftly they forget everything they've fought for…
And all because of one man…
The crowd that had formed outside the drop ship beginning to push forward brought Clarke back to her senses once more. All of sudden, all that mattered was helping them extinguish the clouds that coated their minds and make them understand.
Finding a tall box that formerly held whatever short amount of rations that the mother ship had provided, Clarke hauled herself on top. It served her purposes perfectly, gathering all eyes to her now standing feet above them.
"No! You all have to listen to me! Bellamy Blake may not be what we were all so gullible enough to believe, but that doesn't change what he taught us!"
One, a boy Murphy, who was arguably the closest to the traitor aside from Clarke herself shoved his way to the front of the rioting crowd. "And what? We're all just supposed to trust you because you bedded him? Just because we aren't all sluts doesn't mean we are idiots!" the boy spat.
Much to Clarke's contempt, many before her seemed to nod in agreement. It would seem even those who had originally been in favor of their blond leader's opinions were now shifting sides. She knew her odds were decreasing before her faster than ever but instead of being scared, her vision seemed to burn red. Moments ago, Clarke's mind was only for the protection of the liar she had grown far too attached to, but now, now all she felt was rage and annoyance.
"First of all, you do not talk to me like that ever again. You have no idea about our relationship. Second, no, you don't believe me because I've seen him without a shirt on, you believe me because I'm saying exactly what you already know!"
The girl broke off there, suddenly fully aware of how terrified she was. Clarke wasn't one to balk in the face of danger, but she seemed to visibly shrink before the other teens. The mass grew quiet almost instantaneously, mainly out of pure and unadulterated shock. Clarke Griffin, so- called Queen of the criminal ragtag youths, never let down her walls. She never yelled or cried. Clarke was never less than a statue; pristine, strong, worn but stable. When she spoke again, no one knew what to expect.
"Bellamy Blake was one of the few people I thought I knew. In our world of constant uncertainties, Bell is… he was like the calm in the center of the storm.-" Her voice quivered with every word she spoke, barely over a whisper and yet, everyone clung to each of them as they fell, "He stood for goodness, for justice, hope… love… and so much more. He was the peaceful, levelheaded leader during the times when I was a crappy and reckless one. He led me to believe- to believe that we had a chance for more than just survival. For lives, for feelings, for a home. And- and you all are right. Bellamy Blake is a liar. He is a spy. He is a traitor. He volunteered to place the nooses around our necks… and yet, he also showed us how to live. Before he was out steadfast kind, we were simply anarchy, a vile mess of people. Not only did he give us our tools for survival and the basic knowledge of what to do with them, he also gave us moral and a kindness we lacked. He formed our little village into a place where people could live with a voice, without shame, and most importantly, live without fear of being killed for speaking out. For that, we ought to at least give him the same in return… Right?"
Clarke's voice grew increasingly more sturdy as she went, hoping that she wasn't alone in her pleas, that someone else, anyone would agree with her.
She didn't expect the entire group to believe her. When the nods began to spread to small smiles and whispered notes of concurrence, it became clear to Clarke that she was a far better public speaker than she had originally thought. But unfortunately, the decision to postpone an execution was only the start.
"So, what do we do with Bellamy Blake?"
AN- Hey guys! So just a super short one shot that came to me yesterday. I don't think I'll continue it, but if you all like it, maybe I will? Dunno know! Anyway, hope you enjoyed! Comments make me smile!