"Go ahead. I want to question this one," Bellamy told Pike as he kept his eyes on the young grounder. He was not much older the himself, with dark, slicked back hair and icy blue eyes. Pike nodded at him as he led the group over the field filled with thousands of dead grounder soldiers.

Bellamy had him gagged, kneeling on the ground with his hands tied behind his back. Once Pike and the group were out of his line of vision, Bellamy turned back to the boy and kneeled down next to him, looking into his face. So familiar. He remembered seeing it in Mount Weather. Bellamy had saved this boy before and was not going to let him die here after all the trouble he had gone through. No.

Bellamy slowly took the gag out of the boy's mouth.

"What's your name?" Bellamy asked him.

The boy spit blood in Bellamy's face and began cursing him in trigdasleng. Bellamy smeared the blood across his face in an attempt to wipe it off and turned back to the boy, punching him in the jaw and silencing him.

"I'll ask you again," Bellamy shouted more aggressively, "What's your name?"

"Screw you," the grounder spat.

"Hey! I just saved your life…again. Some thanks would be nice," Bellamy growled.

"For what? Saving some of my people just to kill them later? I don't think so. You skaikru are all the same," the boy smirked darkly.

"We're just trying to protect our people!" Bellamy stood up, infuriated.

"Up until now, we were you're people and you were ours," the boy snapped back.

"Yeah, well now you're mine," Bellamy tapped the boy's knee lightly with the end of his boot.

"Then why don't you kill me and get it over with? Huh?"

"I ask the questions," Bellamy said, taking up the gun that was strapped around his shoulder, "Now tell me your name."

"It's Murphy."

"Good," Bellamy sighed, letting his grip on his gun loosen a bit.

"What's yours?" Murphy asked, his eyes trailing along the ground.

"What did I just say?" Bellamy shouted.

Murphy looked up at him, but the darkness left his eyes and expression. He looked sad, almost pitiful.

"What were you yelling at me before when I took the cloth out of your mouth?" Bellamy asked, curious.

"I said I'd make your regret what you've done here today…Among some other foul things," Murphy replied, dropping his gaze. Bellamy stared at him for a good while and his anger subsided, replaced with guilt. He kneeled down next to Murphy so that they were both at eye level.

"Truth is…I do. I have no idea what I'm doing here," Bellamy admitted.

"And what, you thought saving me would make you feel better about it?" Murphy frowned.

Bellamy stared into Murphy's eyes, concerned and scared. He was speechless.

"Then I guess my work here is done," Murphy smiled at him, "Can I go now?"

Bellamy continued to stare at him, searching for an answer until he found it swimming in the blue of Murphy's eyes.

"Only if I can go with you," Bellamy finally answered in almost a whisper.

"What?" Murphy laughed in disbelief.

"Take me with you."

"You're joking, right?"

Bellamy shook his head and continued to stare at Murphy, longing for his answer. Murphy stared back at him and finally gave in with an eye roll.

"Fine," Murphy said with exasperation.

Bellamy took out his knife and cut Murphy free and they stood up, looking around alert. The two started across the field, stepping over the dead grounder bodies and made their way quickly to cover in the forest.

"What's your name, anyway?" Murphy asked him.

"Bellamy."

"Well, Bellamy, you're mine, now," Murphy stated flirtatiously as he smiled at him slyly.