Her stomach is turning, the bacon that she'd so happily munched on minutes before is threatening to come back up again. Part of her feels that she should be used to this by now, prepared for any sort of dark, awful thing to occur. Her inner voice is scolding, reminding her that life is never quiet or good for long. That she was a fool for thinking they could blissfully escape all that they'd done in the past.

Worry creases her forehead, heartbreak plain on her face as she reaches out to touch the writing on Bellamy's back. "Murderer." Clarke's voice is soft, almost gentle as she breaks it to him.

It isn't fair that two of her favorite people should be called out like that. Pulling her hair over her shoulder she turns her back to Bellamy. "Do I..." she pauses, strengthening her voice. "Do I have anything?"