XX

[PREVIOUSLY: Finn, Octavia and Bryce band together to rescue Charlotte in exchange for Murphy's execution. However, they are discovered and the trio suffer a heartbreaking moment when Wells' killer commits suicide].

My cheeks felt puffy and prickly. My throat felt raw and sore. My scraped elbows and arms throbbed with tiny jabs of pain. My side was twisted up into a big agonising knot. My chest and lungs hurt and ached for air.

This was me - three hours after Charlotte committed suicide.

I blamed Murphy. I blamed Bellamy. I blamed Clarke. But most of all, I blamed myself. If it wasn't for my lack of swift action, I could've saved Charlotte before she made that deadly jump. I could've assured her that she was loved, she was wanted and that she didn't have to die to soothe everyone's blood-thirsty revenge.

But I didn't. I let her go. I let her jump. I let her die. I was a murderer.

I gritted my teeth together and began to fiercely scrape the edge of a sharpened stone against a slab of shining metal. I was so determined to never be unarmed or unprepared again that I was in the middle of making a weapon, a personalised weapon, a deadly weapon; in short, a sword. It wasn't going to be just any sword though, it was going to be a jagged-edged blade, speckled with bright shades of paint and comfortably wrapped in strands of strong wiry string. It was almost identical to the grounder spear that had been thrown at Jasper, only it was in the shape of a sword.

Of one thing I was certain: I was ashamed to call the Ark and everyone in it my people.

I was quickly jerked from my reverie upon hearing footsteps approaching me. I quickly ducked my head, focusing intently on the task at hand.

"Octavia ..."

I heaved a deep sigh and lowered my weapon. "Bellamy." I glanced up at him and shook my head, tears of anger squeezing out of my eyes.

"O, please, I just ..."

"NO BELLAMY!" I shouted, cutting him off as I leaped to my feet and waved my sword in his face. "You CANNOT just stir up a chaotic mob, try to hang yet ANOTHER of your right-hand men and then assist in killing a child and expect to be forgiven - just like that! SHE WAS A CHILD, BELLAMY! A CHILD! Charlotte was only twelve! She was a LITTLE girl! You are a selfish, domineering ass and I am ASHAMED to be related to you! ASHAMED!"

By this time, I was in hysterics. I dropped my sword onto the ground and collapsed to my knees. Weeping, I dropped my head into my hands.

"O ..." Bellamy knelt down in front of me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "O."

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" I screamed as I lunged towards him and started punching him. "GET AWAY!"

"O! O!" Bellamy yelled out pleadingly, holding up his arms in defence.

"OCTAVIA! LEAVE HIM ALONE! Someone help me, please!" Clarke's panicked voice pierced the red mist of fury that'd shrouded my mind.

I felt strong arms grab me from behind, tackle me to the ground, and hold my writhing body still as I screamed and cursed in anger.

"GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF! GET OFF!" I shrieked, watching as Bellamy turned his back on me and walked away. "GET OFF ... please ..." I collapsed in a heap, sobbing as I did so.

"Get lost you ass and leave her alone, I'll deal with this."

Swallowing hard, I glanced over at my captor as he released me and stormed off. Then, I gazed up into the worried eyes of Finn Collins.

Sitting down beside me, he picked me up and held me as I cried. "She's dead, Finn, she's dead, she's dead," I sobbed into his shoulder.

"I know, I know," Finn whispered into my hair as he started rocking me back and forth. "I know."

I didn't sense the darkness that was closing in on me, but I eventually fell into an exhausted sleep right in his arms.

The next thing I knew, I found myself tucked underneath a bunch of canvases near the drop-ship door. Stretching my weary limbs, I forced myself to sit up and look around. My half-finished sword lay next to my head and a pile of crates lined the wall opposite me.

With a half-hearted sigh, I pushed myself to my feet, groaning with pain as I did so. I hadn't quite recovered from my previous injuries so my entire body felt as stiff and sore as a board.

Stooping down, I retrieved my sword and walked slowly out of the drop-ship. Even though my heart was heavy with grief, I had no tears left to cry. There was only anger now.

As my eyes swept the dusk-ridden camp, they settled upon the huddled forms of Dustin and Bryce, who were standing next to the now-finished camp gates. I stalked over to them, determined to get some answers.

"Where's Murphy?" I demanded as soon as I came within ear-shot of them.

Dustin hesitated a moment before replying, "He - er - he's not coming back."

"What do you mean?"

"Bellamy banished him from the camp," Bryce explained. "He - he's stuck out there with the grounders now."

I let out a pent-up breath and nodded slowly. "Good. Otherwise, if he were here, I'd beat him to death."

"Huh, we figured," Dustin countered. "Seeing how mad you were at Bellamy has taught me to never get on your wrong side."

"So, what are you two doing?" I queried, trying to change the subject.

"We got chosen for first guard duty," Dustin shrugged. "You wanna join us?"

I nodded as I looked down to examine my sword. "Yeah sure. It'll keep me away from everyone else and in the meantime, I can finish this."

"Ohhh wow, cool, is that a grounder sword or something?" Bryce asked eagerly.

I smirked. "Kinda."

"Can I use it when you're done?"

"Hmm," I pursed my lips and tilted my head to the side. "Can I trust you with my things?"

Bryce just answered with a light laugh and waved me off. "Yeah, whatever."

"Hey, did you see that?" Dustin suddenly piped up in a worried tone. He lifted his gun and levelled it with his shoulder as he scanned the surrounding area outside of the camp.

Frowning, I plucked the gun from Bryce's hands and peered through the lens of the weapon's scope. Then, I paused.

There was something - no, someone keeping watch on the camp! I couldn't see exactly who it was, all I could make out was the shadowy figure of ... yep, it was definitely a man ... wait, no, not one man, but two, three, four, five men; they were all hidden amongst the trees. We were being spied upon - by the grounders!

"Wait here," I ordered as I handed the gun back to Bryce. "Don't leave your posts. I'm gonna go tell Bellamy."

Dustin and Bryce just nodded in response and stayed put while I spun around on my heel and ran straight back for the drop-ship.

I searched the entire thing from top to bottom, but Bellamy and Clarke were not to be found. Furious, I stormed out of the metal contraption and began barging into the nearest tents, yelling out my brother's name. Finally, I stumbled upon a shirtless Bellamy and another girl making out under the cover of his tent.

"Octavia! What the hell!" he yelped, jumping up and scrambling around for his shirt. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Where's Clarke?" I demanded brusquely, completely ignoring the girl.

When Bellamy didn't reply, I leaned forward and seized his arm before marching him out of the tent. "This is serious, Bell!" I whisper-yelled. "There are grounders outside of our camp ... this very moment! We could be completely surrounded for all we know!"

A look of alarm flashed across Bellamy's face. "W-what?"

"Hey, what's going on?"

We both turned to see Clarke walking up to us, her expression quizzical and questioning.

"There are grounders outside of our camp, Clarke," Bellamy replied in a low tone as she reached us. "We can't tell anybody otherwise we'll have a panic on our hands! Hang on, you don't think Murphy ..."

"Right now, anything is possible," Clarke interrupted soberly. "But we need to be prepared none the less." She turned to me before inquiring, "Who else knows?"

I shrugged. "Dustin and Bryce. I dunno about the others on duty though. What are we going to do?"

For a moment, silence reigned. Then, Clarke perked up, "Wait, I have an idea."

"What do you have in mind?" I raised my eyebrows suspiciously.

Clarke smirked as she exchanged a knowing look with Bellamy. "We need to catch one."

"One what?" I repeated incredulously.

"One grounder."

Gif: Octavia as she works on her sword.

XX