"…I found you." He says.
Clarke shakes her head and takes a small step back. She can't bear to look into Finn's empty eyes, the way his pupils are shrunken to pinpricks in the middle of his brown irises makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her eyes survey the scene around her, the death that surrounds them all. A wailing mother cradles a dead child in her arms, Octavia crouches next to a man with a thick beard as the man gently touches the face of a fallen teenage boy. Murphy has backed himself against one of the tin walls of a Grounder shelter, he's recoiled from the situation and is hugging himself tightly with what was probably genuine repulsion on his face. Bellamy is somewhere behind her, she can't bring herself to turn and look, the possibility of more dead bodies is too much.
Clarke's eyes are drawn back to Finn's like the opposite poles of two magnets, no matter how hard she tries, from that moment she is unable to look away. The repercussions of Finn's actions will be immense, the Grounders would never join forces with them and likely, there would be another all-out war. One of her very own people—Finn, oh my god, Finn—had come into an undefended camp of panicked women and children and mowed them down, glassy eyed and dazed like it had meant nothing. To take so many lives all at once, and for what? Fear? Anger? Clarke doesn't see any of those things in Finn's eyes. They are just empty, drained of everything she'd ever loved about him, anything that had ever made him human.
I found you, he'd said but the more Clarke thinks about it, the more it begins to sound like I did this for you.
Her hands begin to shake in anger and in fear. What had he done? What had he done!? How can she fix this? What amount of damage control is necessary to make this right, to bring Finn back from whatever dark thing he had been consumed by?
I found you.
His face is still devoid of emotion, but his eyes are fixed intently on her. She is his only focus, he doesn't even see the carnage he's caused Clarke realizes, he can only see her. He doesn't care about what he's done, he just sees her.
"Get on your knees." Clarke tells him, her voice as empty as his eyes are.
He does it without question, there's not even confusion on his face. He just does what he's told.
Clarke walks to his left side and turns her head to face the people in the Grounder camp. Some of them are watching her, but most are still occupied with their dead.
She points the muzzle of the gun at Finn's head; it's barely three inches from his temple.
I found you.
She has more attention from the Grounders in the camp now, and she can see Bellamy watching her and Octavia's head look up to see what's happening.
I found you. The words bounce around in her head, ricocheting off the walls of her mind, becoming faster, louder, and confused. You… I… I found… I found you.
Everyone is watching her now, Finn included; looking up at her with big brown eyes like a kicked puppy who doesn't understand what he's done wrong.
"Face ahead." Clarke says, and again there's nothing in her voice.
Finn turns his head away from her and looks forward, seeing likely for the first time the death he's caused.
I found you.
I found you.
I found y—
She pulls the trigger.
A burst of staccato gunshots sound out and an intense quiet fills the camp. She has Finn's blood and brains spattered on her, Clarke realizes with a start. Her eyes fall down to his body. His face is utterly destroyed and there's no bringing him back. He was a life, and then she had snuffed him out, just like that.
She turns her head away and her eyes fall to the Grounder crouching next to Octavia and the body of the teenage boy. They lock eyes for a moment before he nods at her. Clarke does nothing.
But worse, she feels nothing.