Chapter Text
It turns out, panther meat is kind of tough. It’s lean and has a strong flavor that Murphy has never tasted before but someone with a bigger vocabulary across the fire is calling “gamey”. Murphy is used to the shit food of lockup, so he’s not trying to complain. At least it’s hot, solid protein. His stomach had been rumbling, and now it wasn’t. Might as well be grateful.
Murphy is used to being hungry- he suspects it’s one of the reasons he’s so compact. People have called him small all his life, although he mostly made up for it with frustrated spite and a quick tongue. You can’t grow to your full potential when your mom is drinking away all your rations, after all.
The symptoms of prolonged hunger are familiar but, as always, decidedly unwelcome. Feeling the gnawing ache in his stomach lessen with every dry bite of the big cat would have been something to celebrate…if only he could stop reliving the shit show of bringing it down.
It’s over. He keeps telling himself. He risks a glance to his right. It’s over. He’s fine.
Bellamy is sulking. He pulls it off well in the firelight- hair hanging down just a bit and casting a shadow over his brown eyes, strong nose in profile, full lips pouting just a bit… Definitely sulking. Ok, fine, that’s probably not the word he’d prefer Murphy to use, but it feels right. Clarke and Finn pulling that stunt and taking food out of turn had really upset him, as the bruise forming on some kid’s face proved. No one else had tried to step out of line after that, at least. But it had still soured the triumphant mood for the ebony haired young man.
Murphy hadn’t had a good mood to ruin, although Finn’s arrogance and casual fucking dismissal made his blood boil. His heart still hasn’t entirely stopped beating out of his chest from watching that panther stalk down his… Leader? Reluctant and unlikely older friend? Gorgeous unattainable god out of those stupid legends he was always referencing?
Murphy winces around a mouthful of panther meat. Best not to dwell on that weird and uncomfortable thought.
Most of the 100 are already done eating. As Murphy well knew, a long hunger led to a short appetite. The juvenile delinquents loiter around small fires, gossiping and laughing and generally celebrating. And why not? Against all odds here they were, bellies full now, still alive.
Still alive.
Bellamy hasn’t really touched his food. Not that Murphy is checking up on him like an anxious girlfriend or anything, fretfully flicking his eyes to the charred remnants of pussy cat impaled on a rough stick in Bellamy’s large hands.
The guy’s not going to keep up that physique if he doesn’t take care of himself.
Murphy swallows and shakes his head. Bellamy is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He’ll eat when he’s hungry. Speaking of girlfriends… the brunette bimbo that Bellamy had apparently banged in the dropship earlier in the day is sauntering over to where the two partners are standing. She’s at least mostly clothed now, thank god, although the eyes she’s making at the black haired guard impersonator could probably be considered indecent.
Murphy can’t really articulate what the issue is, but he doesn’t like her. He definitely doesn’t like the way she marches right up to their fearless but preoccupied leader and sticks her pert little nose right in his neck and smiles that bright but clueless smile as she wraps her arms around his waist.
“C’mon Bell, it’s getting late.” She giggles into his neck.
Murphy scowls. He can’t help it- there’s just something about her. Is it her voice? It certainly seems particularly grating. And besides, he wasn’t done with the male Blake. They have food tonight, and that’s great, but they really should be talking about their next meal. What’s the next step? A hunting party? Bellamy might even have a plan already. He seems like a generally capable guy, always ready to take on the next challenge. He’d got onto the top secret dropship with a gun, all to save his sister. So definitely capable, and caring, and strong, and determined… All around a great catch.
And probably the key to our food shortage problem. He reminds himself. It’s important to stay on task, after all. Murphy had wanted to put that conversation off for a few more minutes though. He had been enjoying sitting here with the older boy, slowly calming down after the earlier scare, eating their hard won meal in silence. The food issue is just another thing to add to Bellamy’s list of worries. It’s clear that he has a lot on his mind, no doubt brainstorming ways to keep the Hundred safe and supplied, and probably thinking a hundred other things Murphy could never guess. This was just one more thing to add to that growing list.
But, looking at the way this girl is cuddling up to him, Murphy supposes it can wait. Let the guy have some fun. He looks like he needs it, if the furrowed lines on his forehead are any indication.
He’s about to politely excuse himself- which for Murphy means not making a crude joke about visiting pound town and instead silently finding a reason to leave- but Bellamy’s voice stops him.
“You’re right, it is.” He affirms lightly, disengaging from the girl’s embrace and taking a step away as he turns to face her. “You should turn in. Get some rest. Never know what the ground will throw at us in the morning.”
The dismissal is pretty clear, although the girl keeps smiling that vapid smile.
“Should I wait for you in your tent?” She asks.
Murphy doesn’t know what Bellamy’s problem is, why he’s turning down an easy lay, but damned if he isn’t prepared to be a great wingman. Whatever it takes to get this girl to go away.
“Blake.” He breaks in, the surname slipping easily off his tongue in his haste to interject. “We should, uh, talk.”
“Right.” Bellamy agrees immediately, taking another step away from the girl to try and get his point across. “Lots of important decisions to make. Defense layouts to draw up. That sort of thing. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The girl looks vaguely puzzled and disappointed, the corners of her stupid smile turning down, but nods and walks away, towards a group of teens milling around another part of the clearing.
Bellamy audibly exhales when the girl is out of earshot, his shoulders relaxing from around his ears and his hands smoothing down his pant legs.
It makes Murphy glad that one of the leaders of this ragtag bunch of kids is comfortable around him, can relax around him like he can’t around others. It’s good to have friends in high places. Maybe it will help keep him alive down here.
Sure, it’s all about survival, and not the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach when he’s around.
Murphy bites the inside of his cheek roughly. It tastes a bit like blood but that voice in his head stops and he can focus on Bellamy, who’s turning towards him, soft around the edges as his relief bleeds through.
“Have you seen Atom?”
Murphy shrugs, discarding his newly bare stick onto the ground.
“Wasn’t he supposed to be watching little sis?”
“Yeah, and I haven’t seen either of them for a while.” Murphy digests this new information, and his panther meat, calmly. It’s not much of a secret around camp that Atom and Octavia are hot for each other. If they’ve snuck off together… well, Murphy can’t really blame them. Down here on the ground, they could die at any moment. There are too many threats to count, most of them unfamiliar. Might as well make the most of each moment, right?
He’s not about to say that to a pissed off big brother.
Bellamy smiles at him. It’s predatory.
“Want to take a walk?”
Murphy isn’t about to turn down that offer. His other options are mingling with the masses or finding his place to crash for the night. People suck and he’s not ready to set up his small bedroll and sleep. Every time he looks away from Bellamy he thinks he sees a panther out of the corner of his eye, stalking them.
We’re fine. We’re still alive. We ate the goddamn cat and Bellamy and I are fine.
“Yeah, I’m sure we can find them. Want me to grab a few guys?”
“No. I think we can handle it. We make a good team.”
The praise is unexpected and Murphy doesn’t know how to respond. He swallows against the lump in his throat and nods, dusting off his hands and taking a step away from Bellamy and towards the trees, away from Bellamy who is still smiling that predatory smile that makes the hair on the back of Murphy’s neck stand up.
Maybe in some other world, this moonlit stroll would be romantic. He thinks to himself a few minutes later as he and his new friend stealthily prowl through the woods in search of said friend’s errant sister.
Sister! The idea of having a sibling, of not being totally alone in the world, is so foreign and so socially taboo that it’s hard to resist asking prying questions about it. It’s not really in Murphy’s nature to keep his mouth shut, but maybe during the hunt for that same sister, who is probably bumping uglies with Atom even as her brother stumbles ever closer, isn’t the best time. Murphy can resist temptation for Bellamy’s sake.
But honestly, having a sister… or even a brother… having someone else in your life besides your drunk mother and the ghost of your floated father… someone to confide in and have each other’s back… it’s a nice thought.
Unless you get stuck with a psycho little sister like Octavia. He muses, trying hard not to stumble over roots while distractedly checking out Bellamy’s ass. It’s nice to have an ass there to check out, considering…
He WAS almost kitten chow…
The memory immediately makes Murphy’s throat seize.
It had all happened so fast. One second he was hurriedly working at the knots tying an unconscious Jasper to the tree, trying not to listen as that asshole Finn rushed him along, the next there was a huge feline sprinting at them through the undergrowth.
His eyes had gone to Bellamy, who was on the ground nearest to the animal and exposed. And apparently without a gun, considering that damned Prince had stolen it out of his waistband. The privileged bastard was lucky he wasn’t a terrible shot, because if he’d missed… if that wild beast had crossed just a few more feet of open space…
Well, fuck. It hadn’t happened. Bellamy was fine.
We’re fine. We’re alive.
Looking up, he caught another glance of a great butt only partially disguised by loose fitting guard issue pants.
We’re together.
Maybe it’s not romantic. But that’s not really his style anyway.
The two of them don’t take long to find Atom, and Octavia by extension. Bellamy stops in his tracks and stares for a long moment, obviously unhappy to discover his sweet sister straddling someone. Murphy’s just grateful that all their clothes are on.
“Atom. Come on.” Bellamy’s voice is gruff. “We’ve got first watch.”
Atom picks himself up off the ground, casting a brief glance at Octavia and her apprehensive frown, but follows, eyes downcast. It’s clear on everyone’s faces that he’s royally screwed.
A half hour later, he’s strung up in a tree.
Murphy doesn’t want to take all the credit, even if it was his idea. Bellamy would probably argue and say it was the most obvious solution and they all would have arrived at it eventually but screw that, Murphy thought of it first and that’s what counts. Couldn’t leave him on the ground, didn’t have someplace to stash him, so up in the trees he goes. Far enough outside camp that he doesn’t disturb anyone, of course. Far enough that Octavia can’t hear his yells.
Maybe it’s harsh. But as Bellamy says, “I won’t be disobeyed.”
It’s terrible that Murphy shivers at those words, that his pants get tight and his mouth gets dry, that his skin prickles with goosebumps and he’s suddenly aware of how beautiful Bell looks in firelight, the burning torch making his eyes look black and bottomless. His tone leaves no room for dissent.
Together, the group turns away.
“Guys!” Atom shouts, panicked. “Bellamy! Guys!”
They ignore him.
It’s a bit of a walk through the dark woods but the torches provide enough light to guide them home.
Home. How strange that it’s already home.
Maybe it’s not so strange though. That cold sterile Skybox was where most of them had lived for the last year, two, three… but it wasn’t home. This here, the ground, the vast and open forests andstill unseen deserts and oceans, was where their home lay. The dropship, where they unfurled their bedrolls each night, that was home. The tent he shared with M’bege, that was home.
The group split up in the trees nearest the dropship, extinguishing their torches, all of them going to their posted stations for watch. Now that they knew Grounders were alive and thriving, in these very woods, it was imperative that they keep up a guard. Bellamy hadn’t been totally lying to that affectionate brunette who couldn’t take a hint. There are still all sorts of things that needed to be planned out just for the defense of the camp, like posting guards around the clock at the dropship entrance and building a wall out of debris and natural resources and organizing patrols and having someone available to feed the fires so they never went out. Just thinking about it made Murphy’s head hurt. And that was all just the tip of a very large iceberg.
Bellamy and Murphy make it to their post- well, Murphy’s post, but he’s not about to send the dark haired man away- before they stop, shaking with silent laughter. One shared look and they lose control, dissolving into giggles that would frankly be embarrassing if anyone in camp heard. But it’s just the two of them.
We’re fine. We’re alive. We’re together.
Suddenly that knowledge is so sweet, so ecstatic, that he just has to laugh. At their fate, at Atom’s current predicament, at how ridiculous and hopeless things are. How have 100 juvenile offenders become all that exists of civilized life on earth? How are they going to survive? They have to eat, they have to drink clean water, they have to police the camp, they have to find or make weapons, they have to defend against an inexplicable enemy… it’s too much. It’s just too much.
And so Murphy laughs. And apparently the brown eyed Blake is in on the joke because he’s laughing too and so that makes it all kind of ok.
Eventually, they recover from their fit.
“Listen…” Bellamy starts, looking seemingly anywhere but directly at the shorter boy, “Thanks for helping me out with Sarah.”
It takes Murphy a minute to understand what the hell he’s talking about.
“Oh! Girl from this morning, the one who was all up on your junk after our victorious feast?”
Bellamy laughs, presumably at his phrasing, but nods.
“Yes, she has a name, it’s Sarah. Nice girl, very…”
Murphy has no idea how Bellamy plans to end that sentence but he can guess. Dumb? Vapid? Thoughtless? Clingy? Overly affectionate?
“.…athletic.”
That startles another laugh out of Murphy. This one is brief. He really doesn’t want to think about Bellamy with some stupid bimbo. He can be happy for the guy for getting some tail but that doesn’t mean he needs details.
And he is happy for Bellamy. Of course he is. How else should he feel? Jealous? Please. That girl- Sarah, whatever- is cute. Bouncy. Lots of guys would probably be willing to spend some quality time with her. And she’s nothing like Murphy, who is- well. Not cute, or bouncy, or the type who’s into PDA by the fireside.
It’s not like you’d ever have a chance with Bellamy Blake, the dark voice of his subconscious tells him. You’re all hard edges and rough textures. He deserves someone cute. And bouncy. Look at his beautiful goddamn smile.
And Bellamy IS smiling at him, again, leaning in a little like he’s sharing a good joke or a secret.
“Yeah?” God, his voice is pitched all weird. Be cool, dumbass.
“Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t kiss and tell…” He trails off, huffing out a quick breath and shaking his head sheepishly.
Murphy doesn’t know what to say. Should he leer like some lecher and ask how she was? If he was talking to M’bege or one of the guys, he would. But here, in this moment, he just wants this conversation to end.
“Why’d you turn her down?” And that’s probably not the best way to change the topic but it’s been on Murphy’s mind since earlier in the evening and he has to ask.
Bellamy stops smiling, which is a real shame, and looks serious instead.
“Sarah’s great. Really, she’s a nice girl. I’m just… not looking for a nice girl.” Bellamy says this quietly, staring meaningfully off into the dark ring of trees, leaving Murphy to figure out what the hell that means. Not into nice? Not into girls? Not into nice girls named Sarah? Hell if he knows.
“Everyone’s pairing up. The threat of imminent death will do that to people.” Murphy points this out in what he hopes is a helpful manner.
“I’m not looking for…” Bellamy takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m not interested in anything serious right now. I’m definitely not looking for ‘long term’ when we might die tomorrow. I have more important things to worry about than someone else’s feelings. Sarah was nice. I don’t need nice right now.”
Murphy smirks at him.
“You just came down here to play the hero and get all the girls, huh? Your sister was just a convenient excuse.”
Bellamy grins. “Damn. You caught me. You figured it out. Sleeping around was my whole plan.”
“Do you have your next conquest all worked out? Picked out the lucky lady already?” Bellamy stops for a second, studying Murphy in the dying light of a nearby fire.
“Who says I’m looking for a lady?” He says it with such a straight face that Murphy feels the tips of his ears turn red.
“So you’re an equal opportunity lover, huh Blake?”
“Wanna find out for yourself, Murph?” The goading question is almost enough for Murphy’s jaw to drop open. Is Bellamy freaking Blake flirting with him?
A strangled scream coming from camp cuts through the air, effectively ending the low banter.
“What the fuck was that?!” Murphy growls, hand instinctively reaching for his knife.
Across from him, Bellamy is already moving, retracing their steps back toward the dropship.
It turns out to be Jasper, the boy with the goggles who just doesn’t know when to die. It takes a couple frantic minutes to get back to base and identify the source of the inhuman wails, but when they do they’re frustrated to find a situation they can’t improve. Clarke, the Princess, says there’s nothing to be done- they have no medicine, no supplies, no way to heal him. If he’s going to wake up, it has to be on his own.
Frankly, Murphy thinks it’s a waste of time and energy to try to nurse Jasper back to health. The kid’s a goner. Nothing to be done. Might as well just put him out of his misery.
Outside the dropship again, the pair survey the camp. It’s dark, and quiet, except for the occasional howl of agony. The people who had investigated the screams are dispersing, making their way slowly back to their tents or bedrolls or piles of leaves. It’s time for the two of them to go their separate ways.
Well, can’t make a big thing of it.
Murphy turns to leave.
“Hey, Murphy, wait.”
The shorter boy turns his head, eyeing Bellamy over his shoulder.
“What’s up?”
Whatever Bellamy opens his mouth to say is lost in the next yell.
“What?” Looking chagrined, the older male shakes his head, taking a step back. “I’ll see you at first light tomorrow. We’ll train.”
First light. That gives him some time to fall into his bedroll and rest after the crazy fucking day he’s had. And ample time to fight off some nightmares about a big black cat pouncing on his… crush?
That almost makes him laugh again. John Murphy with a crush. On the unattainable Bellamy Blake.
Well, they ARE on earth. Crazier things have happened.
“Goodnight, Blake.” -