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Nightmares accompanied Murphy for as long as he can remember, or at least it felt that way. He knew he had a relatively happy life until his father’s stupidity led to his death, his mother’s misery, and eventually Murphy’s arrest. After this chain of events, bad thoughts crept into his head constantly without much push or need or reason. They were just there waiting for him to close his eyes and wander into the darkness of his mind.
Like tonight, they waited and he felt it. They were all supposed to be safe now even in their dreams, but he could never outrun a lifetime of nightmares.
His heart still thumped as he jumped back into reality and away from the demons instead his head. As he blinked to orient himself, he was glad that the only other person awake was Clarke as she finished her watch shift.
Her blonde hair all short and shaggy was a strange sight to see—almost as strange to see as her entire self breathing and moving and existing. When he first saw her, he thought two things. First, the big guy had hit him way too hard that he began hallucinating. Second, the big guy had hit him way too hard that he died. Neither thought was correct. She was real and, not missing a beat in spite of six years of being alone, saving his ass.
Her eyes never left the sight of the horizon as she waited for danger to foolishly wander into view. She was ready for a fight in a way that felt both old and new to him, this comforting foreign feeling in the pit of his stomach as he remembered all the villains she defeated in the name of her people. A dangerous dragon-slayer disguised as a pretty princess.
Was he still her people? Or did he reside somewhere in the in-between of friend and foe?
His eyes shifted to the young girl sleeping by the fire. Close enough to the rest of them that no one suspected wariness from her, but as this particular question of loyalty invaded his mind, he noticed the distance between her and them. He also remembered how Clarke was the one that placed her there. Trust still existed, although there were now limitations that were not there before space and time and supposed death got in the way.
He sighed knowing that sleep was long gone and avoiding her was absolutely pointless. Carefully, he attempted to stand without making noise out of fear of waking someone else. He did so with little success. Gravity and grogginess and new terrain made such a task difficult.
Clarke immediately found his form in the dark with a quickness that frightened him a little. It was savage and unnatural almost emulating Echo before she transformed herself into a makeshift friend of sorts. A friend he admired and held gratitude for but never could trust completely not in the same way he could the others.
He ambled his way over to her post trying to think of something to say to her. He settled on a simple, “I can take over for you. I’m not getting any more sleep, so you should.”
He could practically see her denial busting out of her lips as if he could never be enough to keep them safe, so when she nodded her approval he almost lost his balance in shock. Instead, he stumbled his way next to her on the stump.
Despite her acceptance of he replacing her, she did not move. Frustrated, he was about to remark on her refusal to actually lay herself to sleep. It was going to be a glorious snide comment full of sass and snark that would demonstrate all the wit and humor she missed while he was on the ring and she on the ground. Before he could, she turned her head to him and her eyes showed a motherly concern he had not seen since his own mother before everything.
He would rather forget Abby’s insistent need to adopt him as her own.
Her voice, though as deep as it had ever been, was soothing as she said, “You okay?”
He looked away and said, “Yeah.” He then moved to flash her his infamous smirk, “I had a great vacation on the Ark. You, on the other hand, definitely need your beauty sleep. Can’t have you looking all beat-up and stuff.”
A breathy laugh left her body, “Because, you look like so much better, Murphy.”
Avoiding his injuries, he grinned, “No but I’m the cockroach, and you’re the princess. I’m supposed to be a mess, and you’re supposed to look perfect.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” her voice was not so much a whisper as a failed attempt to emulate a lighthearted agreement.
Despite the small smile she gave him, he saw her hand gently make its way to the ugly marks on her neck allowing for the even uglier marks on her wrist to be visible. He winced at the memory of her withering on the ground as a way to keep their attention off of him. Him and Raven. Mostly Raven, he assumed seeing as Clarke was not the biggest fan of him before they left her to burn.
But, she didn’t burn. And, she sacrificed herself for what at the time was his reason for being. Another painful memory to add to the ever-growing list of things he ruined. And now this, she threw herself at them without second guessing. If she hadn’t already been someone he admired, she would be now. After everything, he imagined the only person that could ever compel him to leave Bellamy would be her.
The slight pause ended with her voice being as gentle as ever. “Still, some people don’t do well on vacations. Some people need things to do, people to ignore, rebellions to starts.”
He caught the small smile again, and a knot in his chest twisted in such a way his breath almost choked him. She painted the perfect portrait of a mother he knew and lost just like everything he ever loved. Earth had taken Wenheda, Commander of Death, Princess of the Sky and given them something resembling a fierce mother warrior.
He didn’t know which one scared him more: the leader who murdered in great numbers but with equally great deliberation or this friend with nothing left to lose but a daughter, a home, and a life. Both were equally frightening and equally bloodthirsty.
Was he ever her people? She did things that made it seem he was but was he?
Still, he could not face a mother’s love. With eyes on the ground, he leaned his body forward and intertwined his fingers as his elbows dug themselves into his legs. His thoughts sped through his mind as he attempted to sort out what he wanted to say next. What was his goal?
Before he could formulate words, she said, “You miss them.”
She was tender in her declaration and all-knowing as if she spoke from a place of certainty and personal identification. “You miss them, and you’re scared that you ruined it for good.”
Not daring to look her way, he kept himself still, “I was with them this whole time. I think you’re projecting. You miss them, and now that they are here, you have no clue what to do.”
She scanned the sleeping bodies before saying, “I did miss them. I missed all of you. I wasn’t supposed to live, and I almost didn’t. But, here I am.”
Finally mustering up some courage, Murphy tilted his head slightly to the side to get a good look at her profile. He saw defiance and strength and something akin to death. He knew what that meant and where it usually led.
The pretty princess became the grounder queen. Eden was her kingdom and her home. It had been for the last six years. The Clarke he knew would fight for people. She killed for her people. What wouldn’t she do for her family, her child?
He sighed and shook his head, “You’re going back, aren’t you?” He breathed in his disbelief, “You’re going back and you’re killing them.”
He saw the way her eyes lingered on Madi before drifting to Bellamy who in the last year would have been next to Echo. Instead, the distance between the pair was enough for Clarke to comfortably lay herself in-between the two of them with Madi in tow. She eventually dragged her gaze from body to body, person to person until her eyes met his.
Her face, once gentle in the fire’s glow, grew hard and dark. Her voice matched her facial expression, “They are going to kill us, so I’m going to kill them first.”
Murphy shifted just a little before remarking, “Bellamy’s not going to like it.”
Her lips formed a line of displeasure before returning to neutral. Her voice rang low yet determined, “I don’t take orders from Bellamy Blake.”
One more glance in her direction and he came to a decision. He was only fooling himself contemplating any other options. Voice steady, he said, “Good. I don’t either. What’s the plan?”
Together, their glances spoke their love and their backs of their goodbyes. Because this…this was the only choice.