It was almost uncomfortable to have the support of someone else. Bellamy supported people, not the other way around. To have Cat hug him, her hand in his, was surprising comfort that he didn't know how to process. Especially in the face of where they were now. He made his chest constrict in an unfamiliar way and he had to take several deep breaths before he was ready to tackle what he knew he needed to do. The longer he stood, the more he wanted to abandon this stupid idea. It couldn't have any merit. She was just being overly thorough and she didn't know Octavia like he did.
Bellamy looked to the building and before moving forward, he reached out with the Force again, praying to find some hint of his sister. When he was met with nothing, he sucked in a sharp breath. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could shake the gnawing sensation in his gut. With a glance to Cat, he steeled himself and headed into the morgue.
"This is-- I've never been to a morgue," he admitted as he passed through the doors. He watched his mother get sucked out of an airlock and into the vastness of space. Death on the ground had been far more brutal - people fell and bleed and writhed on the forest floor and then you dragged them into shallow graves or burned them on pyres. The idea of a morgue seemed alien and clinical and he wasn't sure how to proceed. "Where is sh- the person that they thought matched the description?" he wouldn't assign identity. Not yet.