Thanks again for the reviews! I just wanted to say quickly that this story is entirely for my leisure and I don't focus on every meticulous detail because I don't want to take away from my enjoyment of it, I simply write how I imagine one would react in their situations. I'm also just writing this as I go, not really planning, so sometimes it goes in directions even I didn't expect. I hope you're enjoying it (-:

Clarke POV

Bellamy reminded me of a panther. He prowled back and forth in front of the prisoner, his muscles coiled, like iron beneath his tanned skin. His body a taut bow string.

The prisoner reminded me of a child. His eyes were planted firmly on the ground, a sheen of sweat across his forehead and upper lip. There was a gash across his right cheek and I wondered whether it had been at the hand of Bellamy. I'd ducked into the drop ship after grabbing a handful of berries, I definitely needed to replenish my strength after, and found Miller, Reynolds, Bellamy and Roma standing in front of my attacker. I felt a flicker of fear at the sight of him, but it had quickly disappeared. He looked so weak, and pathetic.

"What are you going to do with him?" I asked, clearing my throat as my voice came out slightly breathless.

The four of them whipped around to face me, taking in my bruised face, berry stained fingers and defiant posture. I had rinsed the dirt and muck from my hair and face in an attempt to regain some sort of dignity.

"Are you sure you want to be in here?" Reynolds asked, his voice surprised and if I was correct, ever so slightly annoyed.

I could feel Bellamy's eyes on me, searching, intense, but I avoided them. He would only make things more crowded and confusing in my brain and I didn't need that now, I wanted answers.

"Yes," I answered firmly, walking forward and standing beside Roma, so that I was only a couple of metres away from the boy who as far as I knew, had attempted to take my life away from me.

"What's his name?" I asked calmly, ignoring the slightly queasiness within my stomach.

"Gerard Riley," Roma supplied.

Gerard Riley. I repeated the name over and over again in my mind, tasting it on my tongue, willing myself to remember anything about it. There was something familiar about the last name but for the life of me I couldn't recall a single detail of why. There was familiarity in the curve of nose, the hooked end, slightly too large for his face, the familiarity came with flood of fondness. I shook my head, completely bewildered. Who was this boy? And why was my mind refusing to put the pieces together?

"Do you know him?" Bellamy asked, his voice soft.

I chewed the corner of my lip, "I'm not sure," I sighed.

"Let me get information out of him," Reynolds offered, sending the boy a glare.

I glanced up at him, shuddering when I realized he reminded me of Murphy. He had oily black hair and a cruel curve to his lip. He held a knife in his hand, the only gentle part of him was the way he caressed the blade with the tip of his thumb. Sometimes I forgot that there was a reason some of these people had been prisoners. But there was also something about him that told me that he would be unwaveringly loyal and knowing that he was close to Bellamy comforted me.

Suddenly I didn't want to be there. I wanted to save people, not watch them be tortured by people who perhaps were doing it more for the pleasure rather than for revenge or information. The walls were almost claustrophobic, and I inhaled deeply, wrapping my fingers around Roma's wrist to steady myself. Her eyes dropped to my hand, surprised and she opened her mouth to say something.

"I am going to tend to any injuries," I said suddenly, "Do what you need to do."

I ignored the eyes on my back as I exited the drop ship, knowing that they probably thought I was going insane.

"I can't believe he kissed you." Octavia repeated for probably the eighth time since we'd started our shift in the medical bay that afternoon.

"Oh for godsake," Raven sighed in exasperation, dropping the implement she was using to crush medicinal herbs, "I know he's your brother and you probably hate to think about it but I'm guessing your brother has probably – sorry Clarke, had a lot of experience with that mouth of his."

Octavia looked momentarily repulsed and wrong-footed. I could relate – the idea of Bellamy kissing other people made me feel ill.

"Yuck, I don't even, that's not what I meant!" She cried, "I mean, like seriously kissed her, like because he wanted to."

Raven raised her eyebrows, "Isn't that usually why people kiss each other?"

Octavia threw a handful of soggy leaves at her. Raven yelped when the gooey, cold clump made contact with her arm and continued to slowly ooze across her skin, "Gross O!" She rushed to rinse the green slime from her skin.

Octavia grinned continuing to pulverise the rest of the concoction with a bent metal fork, "Anyway Clarke," She turned back to addressing me, "I've never seen my brother kiss anyone like that, or look at anyone like that for that matter."

I couldn't help the smile that crept across my lips, and I shrugged, dropping my head so they wouldn't see the pink flush that stained my cheeks.

"Ha!" Octavia beamed, pointing at me with a slimy finger, "You do like him!"

I groaned, embarrassed, "God this feels like classes back on the Ark, with all the gossipy girls, you're killing me O."

She just laughed, "I missed out on all that, so I'm taking advantage right now!"

Raven reappeared, resting her elbows on the table and placing her chin on her intertwined knuckles, eyeing me wickedly, "Yeah what is going on there?"

I rolled my eyes, "I don't know, honestly, it's Bellamy I have absolutely no idea what he's thinking and I don't know what I want either."

"That's boring!" Raven argued, bumping her hip against mine, "Come on, Clarke."

I bit my lip to stop myself smiling too broadly and casually focused on folding bandages, "Well, he did ah, kiss me again."

"I KNEW IT!" Octavia shrieked, "I DON'T KNOW WETHER TO BE DISGUSTED OR EXCITED!"

"Just pretend he's just really hot and totally not related to you?" Raven supplied helpfully.

"Ah yuck, he's so not hot." Octavia laughed, folding her hands over her eyes as if the image was physically painful, a traitorous grin stretching across her lips.

"I thought you didn't like him?" I asked Raven curiously.

She shrugged, "He can be a total ass, I mean we all know that, but I guess he's doing the best he can under the circumstances and I can understand that."

"Yeah he can be," I agreed, "I agree."

A sudden noise from the entry of the drop ship brought our attention to a girl around my age, who was eyeing us curiously, cradling one of her arms in the other, blood visible beneath her fingertips.

"Back to work," Octavia announced, gesturing for the girl to come over and helping her to take a seat.

The day seemed to pass quickly and it wasn't long before I was seated around the fire, explaining to an inquisitive Jasper and Monty what exactly had happened with the boy with the straw coloured hair.

"But we were hunting once and that kid refused to shoot a deer," Jasper looked positively baffled, "Why in the world would he want to hurt you?"

I shrugged, "It's really bugging me not knowing, I just can't imagine what I could have possibly done to him?"

"No idea but he better hurry up and divulge the information or Bellamy's fists are going to make sign language the only form of possible communication for him." Jasper said.

I cringed, nausea crawling up my throat, "Is he being that brutal?"

Jasper looked uncomfortable, "I honestly thought he was going to kill him when he first went to see him."

"Where is he anyway?" I asked, glancing around the fire where most people were huddled and noticing his absence.

"Not sure," Monty shrugged, "I don't think he's on guard duty of the wall or the prisoner."

I began to feel uneasy, hoping that he would emerge, bowl in hand and settle beside me, hand resting on my knee and reassure me with a quick, warm smile.

But he didn't. Instead an awful scream cut through the darkness and a young girl with mousy hair and a smudged nose came racing out from the direction of the drop ship, terror clear in her wide brown eyes, "He's dead!" She wailed.

"Who?!" Everyone rose to their feet, an older girl rushing to the young girl's side, catching her fingers, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Ice raged through my veins. Not Bellamy. Please, please let him be okay.

"The boy!" She sobbed, "There was blood and—"

I was up and running, Monty and Jasper at my heels, toward the drop ship. Panic was like water in my body and I thought I may faint before I reached the doors.

Jasper over took me and climbed into the drop ship, "Holy fu –" He swore, reaching a hand out to stop me, but I dodged past him.

Still strung up where I had last seen him, was the prisoner. But this time a gaping scarlet wound opened out across his throat, his head snapped back unnaturally, his skin white. Blood pooled down his shirt and onto the ground creating a dark red circle where his knees now rested, blood soaking the knees of his jeans.

The nausea burned up my throat and I ran from the ship and retched in a nearby bush, my body spazming as the image remained etched in my mind, vomit burning my mouth and throat as I struggled to breathe. My fingers scrabbled in the dirt, rocks digging into my knees.

A cool hand was suddenly on my neck, gently pulling my hair away from my face and wrapping around my abdomen holding me upright, "It's alright," He whispered, his voice a blanket wrapping around my skin. His crouched body was pressed against mine, his voice a balm to the sickness ricocheting throughout my body.

Realization dawned on me and I shoved him away from me, rising to my feet, staring at where he too had risen, his body towering over mine. Curly, unruly, familiar hair and warm, confused eyes.

"Did you do it?" I demanded, wiping the collar of my shirt across my mouth, aware that I probably looked like hell.

"Do wha—?" Understanding filled his eyes, mingling with betrayal, "Of course I didn't."

But I wasn't listening. I was putting the pieces together in my head.

"You, Monty said you almost killed him before. If he wasn't giving you enough information, you could have easily lost control, you could've, and you could've done it." My voice was shaking.

"Clarke," He reached out a hand to me and I stepped backward, hurt and frustration entering his expression, "I didn't do it, god why can't you believe me?"

"You weren't at the fire like everyone else," I continued, suddenly feeling achingly, sickeningly confident that I was correct, "Where were you?"

"Why the hell would I kill him?" He snapped, anger at being accused slowly overtaking other emotions except the tiny flicker of guilt, "I'm not an idiot, and not being at the fire doesn't prove anything."

He was avoiding the question and the image of the boy was still cemented in my brain, his eyes, wide open and glassy, frozen indefinitely in terror, "If you killed him," I hissed, suddenly the reality of never knowing why I was attacked hitting me, "You and I are going to have problems."

Thanks for reading! I loved the intensity of the scene in the show where Bellamy uses the 'you and I are going to have problems' line, so I mixed it around a bit! Don't worry about Bellarke, they'll get through it and remember Clarke is traumatised and that was a pretty gory sight, don't be too hard on how she reacted heh! Will they find out why he tried to kill her? Stay tuned fellas xx (pls review!)