Rumors
Chapter six
Kat hardly slept the night before. Tossing and turning, her mind was a whirlwind of disjointed thoughts, and pain. By the afternoon, she gave up. Jasper had told her the others no longer thought she killed Wells, but that the grounders had.
Sitting up in bed, Kat rubbed her face with her hands. She was still covered in blood, his and hers. It had dried overnight, the rusted stains on her hands, and clothes probably made her look like a killer.
"I need to get out of here," she said to herself. Sitting in this tent she could only think about Wells. About him sitting on his bed across from hers, laughing at her expense, or teasing her about how filthy she looked. She'd retaliate that he didn't exactly smell like a rose either.
Her eyes ached as more tears wanted to fall at the memory, but she had no more to shed. They had soaked her sleeping bag, and the cushions of her bed last night. She was exhausted, but needed to walk and to get fresh air. She needed to clear her head. And most of all she needed to see Him.
Standing up from her bed, Kat didn't bother to collect her bag. Jasper had been rather sweet that morning, and had emptied her bag out, to try and distract her from her grief over Wells by asking her what plant was what, and what it was used for. It had worked for a while. What didn't help, was that she kept expecting Wells to come through the tent door, and flop down onto his bed, feeling bone tired, but still willing to join in on their conversation. He had been a good friend. Too good of one for someone like her, who hadn't really appreciated his friendship until it was too late.
In the end Jasper had left her alone, letting her grieve in peace. All of them; Monty, Jasper, and Octavia had been nice, and strangely caring for her last night. She really didn't know how to feel about it. Kat had just started to get to know all of them, including Wells. Had considered them growing acquaintances since she really didn't understand the dynamics of friendships anymore. After being hated and feared for so long, it was hard to tell if someone cared. Or if she cared more than she let on.
"Jesus Kat, enough," she muttered to herself, and walked away from her bed at last. She needed air. And time to think.
Kat looked around the camp, her eyes taking in as everyone seemed busy working. She had become the unofficial herb gatherer, the only thing anyone was willing to trust her to do, since it meant she didn't work with anyone else. No one wanted her help with manning the wall, cooking or whatever other chores that had been given out that day. Kat hadn't bothered to ask Octavia what she did with her days, but she saw her mostly hanging around Jasper and Monty. Kat knew that Monty had enlisted Jasper's help in trying to make a radio to communicate with the Ark. So far they had come up with nothing.
Kat couldn't see them when she glanced around the busy camp, and figured they had to be in the dropship, or maybe near the fire pit eating lunch. The thought of food had her stomach growling, but she couldn't even think about eating right at that moment.
No one had seen her yet and Kat was truly grateful for that. She really couldn't handle the looks today. Or the questions. Slipping between the tents, Kat made her way to the panel, and snuck out of the camp unseen. She walked away from the wall, her arms crossed over herself as if to fight back a chill despite the warmth in the air around her.
She had barely made it into the protective covering of the trees when she heard the familiar thump of a body dropping from the trees, and landing behind her. Automatically she whirled around, unsure who to expect but a part of her knew who it would be.
His hands were on her shoulders before she had registered him standing there in front of her, and then she felt his fingers touching her nose which was still bruised, and covered in dried blood from last night. It wasn't broken, but he checked anyway. Once he was relieved she wasn't seriously injured, his hands fell away, and he took a step back from her.
Kat had just stood there, and let him inspect her. She hadn't voiced a complaint, or concern. He could have had something to do with Wells' death, and you let him touch you. She barely even let Wells touch her. Human contact was unusual for her as it usually brought discomfort or pain. Even before the skybox, and the rough handling of the guards, human contact had been scarce. The few times her mother held her, had been the only comfort she knew, and those times were rare, and from when she was really young. Vague childhood memories of being loved.
Her eyes searched his, as if she could read the truth there in his covered face. She saw concern, in the way his eyes had softened in their intensity as he returned her stare. It probably had something to do with the way she looked.
They were too close to the camp for to her demand answers, not that she expected him to give her any, but she was going to try none the less. She had to know.
Turning on her heels, Kat started walking. She moved further into the trees, putting distance between her, and the camp walls until she no longer could hear the voices, or the steady noise as people went about their daily chores. The steady crunch of leaves behind her told her he followed, and kept up with her. When she stopped, so did he.
Kat turned to face him once she was sure they wouldn't be overheard. Her eyes scanned the trees anyway, wondering if someone might stumble across them. But the others hardly left camp, and the few that did to go on hunts, traveled south of the wall to avoid running into the fog and because food was scarcer this side of the wall.
Looking at him, her eyes moved over his form, and realized with a start that he wasn't wearing his thick camouflage layers like he had the two other times she'd seen him. He dressed in his usual dark clothes that had rips and tears from being worn for years, and not cared for properly. A few of the tears though had been mended, while others hadn't been bothered with. His jacket was thick, like a dark green military cargo jacket of sorts. She's seen pictures of them once, but knew those hadn't been decorated with bones like his was. He had made his fingerless gloves a line of small bones poking up across his knuckles, and along his forearms. Like they were spiked gloves.
Those would give him an edge in a fight, she thought to herself.
Kat swallowed the rising lump in her throat, and she quickly looked away from him.
Lincoln just waited patiently, with his expression unreadable.
"Did you-" she started, and was annoyed to hear her voice come out rough and croaky. Clearing her throat she tried again. "Did you have anything to do with Wells' death?" She turned her eyes back to him then, waiting for an answer. He didn't say anything of course. If anything he acted like he didn't even understand the question.
Her hands tightened into fists at her side, and she closed her eyes to fight back the pain. "He was my friend. He was killed last night. Did your people kill him?" she asked again, trying to keep her voice even, and void of emotions. Her eyes opened then and she directed her pleading gaze to him. She might be able to keep her voice sounding impartial, but the storm of emotions in her gaze told otherwise.
There was a brief pause between them, before Lincoln shook his head to the question.
The relief she felt was immense. She didn't understand why she trusted him. Maybe it was because he had never given her any reason not to trust him. He had every opportunity to kill her and Wells for that matter. That he would wait, and do it now seemed unbelievable. But she hadn't trusted her own thoughts, or feelings on the matter. But seeing him deny the accusation, cemented her beliefs. That meant someone in the camp had killed Wells.
Kat new she couldn't say anything to anyone about it. For one they wouldn't believe her, and on the off chance that they did, she would be the most likely suspect. Though Kat was starting to think it was Murphy. He seemed like the most possible one, with the most motives. It wasn't a secret how much Murphy hated Wells.
"Thank you for answering my question," Kat said softly. Her voice trembled, and she closed her eyes when she felt the burn of tears threatening to fall again. It seemed she wasn't done grieving. Would she ever?
Lincoln approached her then, his hands coming up, and he pulled her into a hug. Kat sagged into his body the moment his arms closed around her, and she pressed her face into his jacket. Her body trembled from the emotions, but no tears would come.
It was a few minutes before she managed to rein in her grief, and she slowly extracted herself from his hold. He didn't release her completely, but slid his fingers down over the sleeves of her jacket, and took hold on her hand in his.
He started to pull her west, in a direction that ran along a path of trees she was unfamiliar with. She always tried to take the same paths she had before so not to get herself lost. Her sense of direction was minimal at best. But she trusted him, and she let him drag her through the forest until they reached a river.
This one came from a waterfall that fell from a cliff high above them. The scenery was beautiful, and Kat found herself standing beside him, her mind finally distracted from her grief to take in its beauty. She hadn't seen anything quite like it. This close to the shore, she could feel the spray of the waterfall on her skin, and it felt wonderful. Running water. When had been the last time she showered? Not since the skybox, that was for sure. It might have even been a few days before they had been sent to earth even.
Lincoln released her hand, and stepped away, his feet carrying him closer to the shore. He had scoped out the area earlier that morning, and knew it would be safe. He'd seen the way she would pick at her hair, and clothes like they grossed her out. Had known she would enjoy a moment to bathe. Lincoln had hoped to surprise her with it.
Now however, he wondered if he should have waited. She was grieving over that boy. The one she shared her tent with. He understood grief over the loss of a friend, of a loved one. He knew she needed something to help her move on, and he hoped this might help.
Lincoln reached up, and pulled the mask he had worn to help him blend into the trees, off and set it aside on the large rocks he stood near. Next, he undid the clasps on his jacket, and slipped his arms out of the sleeves, and set it down. He slowly removed each layer of clothing until he stood there in only the shorts he wore under his pants. He turned to look back at her then, and found her watching him.
Kat had forgotten how to breathe. The scene before her had taken her breath away, but then catching sight of the grounder undressing had made her forget how to breathe. His mask was gone, and for the first time she was able to look at him. All of him. Her eyes greedily moved over his face, and then down his body as he removed each layer.
He was handsome, in a wild way. His skin was like milk chocolate, stretched over hardened muscles. Not an ounce of fat on his tall 6'2 frame. He might have been on the thin side, but it only made the muscles that lined his arms, torso and legs stand out more prominently. With his clothes off, she could see tribal tattoos. There was one on each arm below his armpits reaching to about his elbows. Another one on his chest from his collar bone, and stopping between his nipples. The last one she could see was on the back of his head, on the right side, but she couldn't really tell what is was other than it seemed to reach up around his right ear, down to his jaw line and neck.
He had a strong jaw, darkened with a day's growth of hair but it only seemed to add to his rugged earthy appeal. His head was cleanly shaved except for a patch along the top of his head, where the hair there had been shaved short into a Mohawk down the center.
Kat was startled when he lifted his hand, and held it out to her. It was obvious what he wanted, but she found herself asking, "What are you doing?"
Was it even safe to be out here?
His hand dropped then, and he turned away from her without answering her question. Next, he removed the shorts her wore under his pants, and she was able to see the smooth curve of his ass, and another tattoo that ran from the back of his neck and down his back, before he was walking into the river. The water was about chest deep on him when he got near the waterfall, and he turned to her again, his expression open.
Kat hesitated a moment longer, debating the pros and cons of going into the water after hearing stories of what happened to Octavia. She doubted he would take her to one with a river monster in it, and take the chance of getting either of them eaten. She licked her lips nervously, the idea of feeling clean, too tempting.
Her fingers tugged at her jacket, and she tossed it to join his clothes near the rocks. She had to unlace her boots, and kick them off before she could get her socks, and pants off.
It felt good, the light breeze, and dusting of mist on her bare skin. She was in her bra and underwear, a pair of boy shorts and sports bra that didn't match together, now. One had to take what they could get, and there wasn't much that fit her besides kid's clothes for undergarments, back on the Ark.
Though lately, she had noticed her clothes had finally started to fit snug on her. Something else to worry about since she didn't have any spares. She no longer looked bony and emaciated at least. Her hip bone still protruded a little, but her ribs no longer made her look gauntly. It had been sickening to look at, and she was pleased to find more meat on her bones, even if most of it was turning into muscles. All that walking, and running she did was paying off.
Kat unhooked the straps on her bra and slipped her arms out and set them aside. Her underwear was next, leaving her naked standing there on the rocks. When she looked at him, she caught him staring. He never seemed shy about it, or embarrassed when she found him looking at her.
Right now, she wasn't angry that he was, just worried about what he might be thinking. There was that intense look in his eyes again, and it was making her nervous more than anything.
Kat moved to the water, and stepped in, only to flinch at how cold it was. In the end, she pushed forward regardless, and stood waist deep. Kat didn't know how to swim and she was reluctant to move any deeper into the water. She had read books, and seen movies on swimming, but that was nothing like the real deal. Fear gripped her, and she refused to move from her spot.
Lincoln noticed the hesitation, and he moved towards her, and took her hands in his beneath the water. Kat licked her lips nervously, before she looked up at him.
Lincoln hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. Though that might have started from the moment she stepped off the dropship for the first time trying to wrestle her way out of the harness. But now, he could feel his heart beating a little faster, and his skin tingling from where he held her hands. Seeing her naked had caused his cock to stir and harden, and his body to flush with arousal despite the chilled water he was submerged in.
She was beautiful.
With the way, the sunlight made her hair seem more auburn than red, like the color the leaves turned in the fall, and the way the strands fell around her face in thick waves. Even with the bruise forming along her nose, the split lip and the dirt that smudged her pale face. She was beautiful.
"I- I don't know how to swim," she explained her reluctance.
Lincoln nodded without words, but his grip on her hands seemed firm as if to reassure her and Kat actually felt herself relax. He wouldn't let her drown.
He tugged her towards him, easing her further into the water until it was up to her chest. He managed to hide his disappointment when her breasts disappeared beneath the surface of the water. They had been smooth and firm looking, the nipples hardened into rose colored beads thanks to the cold. He wanted to taste them, but refrained from doing so. He didn't think she would appreciate him molesting her.
His hands released their hold on hers and he slid his fingers up her arm and over her shoulder. Water cascaded down her pale skin, and he repeated the motion. His fingers slowly rubbed into her skin, washing away the week worth of sweat and dirt. She slowly began to relax, her eyes closing when he cupped water into his palms, and poured it over her head to wet the rest of her hair.
Kat felt the grief, anger, nervousness and fear slowly wash away from her body as he worked. She didn't know anything about this man, other than he was caring, and gentle with her. That he was a bit of a pervert staring at naked young girls, but that surprisingly hadn't seemed to bother her. Kat turned her back to him, giving him access to her shoulders as he washed away the filth.
It just felt so damn good.
She felt his hands dip below the surface, his fingers ghosting over her lower back, and around the front of her. He seemed emboldened by the sounds she made, his fingers covering more skin. It wasn't sexual, at least not completely. She would be stupid to think there wasn't something arousing about the way his hands felt on her. The way they would linger on the scars she had gotten over her short eighteen years of life.
Turning in his arms, Kat opened her eyes, and tipped her head back to look at him. There was heat in his stare, but he didn't act on it, and Kat was grateful. She knew she would get lost in the emotions she was feeling if he did, and right now she didn't need that kind of distraction. Feeling brave, Kat reached out and touched the tattoo over his chest in front of her.
They were dark blue. She could see the coloring better now, being this close to the markings. It was a simple tattoo with no intricate designs much like all the ones he had except, for maybe the one on his left arm. But even it was simple in its own way. Tribal, was the best way she could describe them.
Lincoln let her touch him, his eyes following her hands as they felt out his skin, touching over his markings and scars. She seemed curious, and hesitant unlike his own bolder touches. Occasionally, she would look up at him as if to ask for permission. Not that he gave permission, but the look in his eyes seemed to give her the answer she wanted, and she would continue to explore his body with her hands.
Reaching out with his own hands, he gently cupped her face within his palms, and his thumb gently moved over the dried blood around her nose and mouth. Her breath came out in soft puffs of air, ghosting over his skin when he ran his thumb carefully over her full bottom lip. The urge to taste her was great, and it took every strength of will he had to let her go, and step away.
Kat felt like she had just run a marathon. The way her heart was racing beneath her rib cage, the way her lungs ached like they were starved for oxygen. She licked her lips, and she didn't taste the blood or dirt there. Her skin was tingling everywhere he had touched her.
He held his hand out to her then, and Kat took it without any hesitation. He led her out of the water, and back to the shore where their clothes had been discarded.
Kat slowly dressed while he did the same. She hated putting her filthy clothes back onto her clean body, but there was little choice in the matter. She wasn't about to walk around in the forest naked. Not in these woods, or anywhere near camp.
"Thank you- I really needed that," she said once they were dressed.
She had grown used to his silent answers, and this time was not any different. She wanted to know who he was, and why he cared. More than anything she wanted to know his name. She hadn't asked for it, mainly because she was afraid he wouldn't answer her. That he didn't trust her with that information. Her mind tried to reason that he had no reason to trust her. She had pulled a knife on him, had even tried to use it on him at one time. Her people were intruders, most likely the enemy to his people. Why would he trust her?
Before she could say anything more, Kat heard her name being called.
They both reacted to the sound in different ways. Kat stiffened, her head turning to strain her ears to see if she recognized the voices. Beside her, he had reached for a weapon, reacting to the different voices as a threat.
"That's- Jasper and Octavia," she said mostly to herself. "They must be worried about me. I should go."
She sighed out loud, and bent to reach for her jacket. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, and zipped it up along the middle. Turning her head, she looked over at him, and for the first time since she tripped over Wells' body, a smile played on her lips. "Will I see you tomorrow?"
Lincoln searched her face briefly, before he nodded his head yes to the question. He wasn't following the rules. Had been breaking them left and right actually. The way he felt about this girl, could have him labeled as a traitor, not to mention if anyone found out he had saved her life. Despite all that, he looked forward to seeing her again. He watched her dart into the trees, following the sounds of her people calling for her.
OoOoO
Bellamy didn't trust anyone. Not his second in command, who seemed to have his own agenda, not the Princess who seemed to defy him every chance she got, not his sister who snuck out to see that Jasper boy, and most definitely not Katarina Mason. He trusted her the least out of anyone in the group.
Being a guard, even for the brief time he had been training to be one, he had heard about the famous, Katarina Mason. She might be just a slip of a girl, beautiful under all that dirt and filth, but he knew a killer when he saw one. It didn't matter that his sister tried to convince him otherwise. Octavia was always standing up for Kat, even before they had started hanging out. It probably had something to do with kindred spirts, or some such nonsense.
He didn't understand how people had started to warm up to her. Kat was a killer. She had killed her own father for no reason. It was like everyone had forgotten this information when she came back with the seaweed, and saved Jasper's life.
Bellamy knew he wasn't much better. Having shot and killed the Chancellor before hopping onto the dropship, and escaping to earth to be with his sister. He was a killer just as much as she was. But he had killed for a reason. To save his sister, and to allow him passage onto the dropship so that he could help her. There was a line, one didn't cross. You don't hurt the ones you love, and Kat had crossed that line.
So when Octavia had come to him, asking if he had seen Kat, Bellamy had followed the search party out into the woods to look for their missing member. Kat had snuck out of the camp a few times in the past, but this time, after Wells' death it had everyone on edge. Bellamy figured she was making a run for it, before evidence was found that she had been the one to kill him. His sister and her motley crew of nerds, were concerned for their friend's safety, since they believed the rumors.
Everyone had been so easily turned on the idea that a grounder had killed Wells, but Bellamy wasn't so sure. The grounders hadn't approached their camp yet, so why now? And only to kill Wells? It made no sense. No, he was sure it was Kat. She played nice with the Chancellor's son, but Bellamy saw the fear, the distrust there. She still saw his father, just like the rest of them, and she hadn't been able to deal with it.
Bellamy trailed behind the group, not bothering to call out her name as they did. He was surprised however, when she came running up to them, from the North direction, slightly out of breath and clean looking.
Suspicious, he looked her over, and realized that under her dirty clothes, her skin had been washed clean, and her hair was still wet. There was something going on here, and Bellamy was going to get to the bottom of it.
The next day, Bellamy had made sure he woke before anyone else, and stood hidden in the shadows, watching Kat's tent. He didn't have to wait long, before the sun had started to rise, when he saw her slip out silently. He knew Octavia, Jasper and Monty were still sleeping inside, her small group of friends doing what they could to protect her from the rest of the delinquents.
Bellamy kept to the shadows, following her through the loose panel in the wall to escape unnoticed. He made a note to have that fixed as soon as he got back. He followed her out, keeping several paces back so not to alert her to his presence.
He didn't know what to expect by following her. But seeing her meet up with a grounder, had definitely not been something to cross his mind as a possibility. Bellamy stayed put, hunkered down behind a thick tree trunk as his only cover as he watched the two of them. He knew it was a grounder the moment he saw the man drop from the trees. The man was dressed in camouflage, and his face was obscured by dark paint outlining his eyes.
The grounder reached into the lining of his jacket, and pulled out a flower and held it out to Kat. Bellamy looked between the two as Kat took the flower, and tucked it behind her ear. The two then started off North, but he didn't bother to follow them.
He had been sure she had killed Wells. That she had to be involved somehow. He just hadn't realized she was involved with helping the grounders too. Furious, Bellamy returned to camp, and called for Murphy, and Conner to join him. Out of anyone, he trusted the two of them, but only to follow his orders as long as he gave them no room to wiggle.
"I need your help with something," Bellamy said once they were out of earshot of the camp. "We're going to catch us a grounder and a rat."
Bellamy then went over the details of his plan with the both of them.
It was nearing nightfall, when they finally heard the pair returning.
OoOoO
Kat was fingering the flower Lincoln had gifted her, a small smile playing on her lips as they headed back to camp. They stopped near the place they had met up earlier that morning, and Kat tipped her head to look up at him. They hadn't done much other than visited the meadow she had seen on her first trip on earth. They had mostly spent time in each other's company enjoying the silence, and the sun on their faces. She kind of liked how there was no need to fill the silence with idle chitchat. Something she always felt the need to do when she was around others.
Kat lifted her head to say goodnight to him, when an arm suddenly grabbed her from behind, pulling her back against a firm chest, and a hand going over her mouth to stifle her startled scream. In front of her, Lincoln had reacted by pulling his knife, only to be struck from behind, the tree branch cracking against his skull, and dropping him to his knees.
Kat screamed against the hand, the noise muffled. She kicked and flailed, trying to break free of the hold on her.
"Shut her up," Bellamy shouted, and brought the branch down on the disoriented grounder a second time, effectively incapacitating him.
The hands on her wrenched her around, and before Kat could get her bearings she was thrown against the tree behind her, the side of her head slamming into the trunk. She grunted, and dropped next to Lincoln with a groan of pain.
"There that's better," Murphy sneered, his expression twisted into a cruel smirk.
It was the last thing she saw before she blacked out.
AN: Woo look at me go! So soon too, what is the world coming too? Ha! Hope you guys liked it ^^ I already have this whole story written now, finally figuring out how I wanted it to go, and end. Let me know what you think, I really appreciate it.
Did you like/love/hate it?
Inky out
