[Bellamy blanches. It makes him feel sick and angry at once, and there are a million awful things he wants to spit back in Jason's face, because it already has hurt him, even if it's not physically.]

[He slams his fist into the ground instead, hard, and the pain that shoots through his knuckles warns of bruising, but it channels most of his anger there instead of lashing out at a person. He doesn't think his hand is broken this time, at least. Maybe.]

[It doesn't stop his voice from going low, edging on hostile.] You know there's already blood on my hands, Jason. This isn't me avoiding that. Fuck off.

[It'd be so easy to just tell him what he wants right now, that even if he doesn't trust the Red Hand entirely outside of John right now, pushing back the Void to give them all more time - that's something he can get behind. But telling Jason means telling Morla, and he can't afford that.]

I'm sorry I don't have something for your immediate needs. But don't think for a second I'm going to sit around and do fuck all either. I'm working on it.