Chapter Text
Broken Pieces
Bellamy:
Bellamy rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. The kitchen was trashed. Again. Bellamy wasn’t asking for much, it didn’t need to be spotless but… ugh, he wanted to at least be able to put his hand on the kitchen bench without taking it off and walking away with raw egg coating his hand.
Shaking his hand which was now covered in semi dried egg, Bellamy begun to clean, starting with the egg and flour which was creating a gloopy film across the stone bench.
“Fucking Murphy…. “
After thoroughly cleaning the kitchen, Bellamy dialled Murphy’s number. Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he listened to the phone ring out, while he continued to clean.
“Murphy, could you maybe not trash our apartment. I live here too, and I’d prefer to not be in what can only be described as the pits of a rubbish pit.”
Bellamy shook his head, pushing the fallen curls out of his eyes. In the four months he’d known Murphy, he’d hated almost every second. Bellamy had met him after he placed an ad online for a roommate, Miller had moved out to live with his boyfriend. Leaving Bellamy, the soul name on their expensive house lease. He didn’t blame Miller, in fact he had encouraged him. But when faced with the rent and other bills, he had realised that he couldn’t quite afford it.
Insert Jonathan Murphy.
He could admit that Murphy was alright… on occasion. They’d spent many a night drinking together and watching crap TV. But it was hard to get a read on the real Murphy. He also slinked off in the middle of the night without reason. Dogged out on plans and had an extremely bad temper when provoked.
Five months and Bellamy still wouldn’t call them ‘friends.’ He would have said they could be, but Murphy had a tense, strong, impenetrable wall up that you couldn’t break through.
Bellamy would have given up, but they did live together and there were times when he was a genuine individual.
Slipping into the living room, Bellamy picked up the stack of paper. Intent on reviewing the novel before the morning was over. He fully planned to use his weekend for something other than work, despite what his asshole of a boss thought, he did have a life.
-&-
Bellamy sent a somewhat passive aggressive text to Murphy as he stepped out the front door.
Heading to ‘Grounders’ for drinks with everyone if you want to socialise at all today.
Murphy was in an extreme mood. He’d come home slamming the front door and his dour mood had only been made worse by Bellamy’s spirited remark about the mess in the kitchen.
Perhaps that’s why he had invited him to ‘Grounders’ with Miller, Raven, and Octavia, Monty and Jasper. It was a tight knit group and generally their monthly Saturday catch up was closed to partners and outsiders, strictly the original six. But Murphy had looked… off. The others had begrudgingly agreed to his potential attendance.
Slipping into the booth again, handing out the drinks he’d just bought for the group. He quickly checked his phone before returning his attention to the conversations around the booth.
Monty and Jasper were involved in an intense hypothetical conversation about growth patterns and fermenting fruits. Bellamy knew it was hypothetical, as Jasper had turned to him and Miller and winked while slowly mouthing the words; just a hypothetical. With an added grin aimed towards Miller. Miller smirked at the exaggerated comments. Monty and Jasper’s hobbies were a well-known fact. But they’d taken their conversations out of ear shot for Miller’s career’s sake, and when they couldn’t, they only spoke in hypotheticals.
Monty turned an extravagant smile covering his face, “shh Jasper. There could be narks patrolling, listening.”
Miller lowered his gaze, taking a large sip from his beer. “Relax, I’m not in uniform or on duty. You’re good.”
Jasper went to open his mouth, but Miller jumped in before his mouth could attempt to engulf his whole foot. “But I am still an officer.”
Bellamy smirked at the sour look on Jasper’s face, knowing that it would be only a moment before he was goofing off and being silly again, distracted by something Monty said. Slipping his hand around the glass in front of him, Bellamy prepared to take a long slip of his beer. A hand shot out, grabbing it roughly from his grip. He looked up to see Murphy standing next to him, his hair a mess and his shirt buttoned incorrectly. Finishing the glass, Murphy slammed it against the table.
“I assume you’re buying.” Bellamy felt his jaw tick at Murphy’s tone.
Murphy slid into the booth next to Miller, when he begun to eye his drink. Miller stared straight back, making sure there was clear eye contact as he downed his own drink before Murphy could.
Murphy sneered, the left side of his top lip, quirking quickly. Before his face dropped into a blank mask. “Well, that was a dick move. Didn’t expect that from the righteous Nathan Miller.”
Bellamy could see O, seething from across the table. Her tolerance for Murphy, as usual, very low. Sensing that Murphy was in one of his extreme moods and Bellamy’s invite had clearly been a mistake, he quickly jumped up to stop a potential fight between them. Murphy didn’t need a bruised face and ego, alongside the shit mood he was in.
“Come on Murphy, I’ll buy if you help me carry the drinks.”
Bellamy strode quickly to the bar sparing a quick glance behind him, just to ensure Murphy was following. He was. When they reached the dark bar, Bellamy leaned down against it. His elbows digging into the bar, as he waited for the bartender’s attention. Murphy hovered just next to him, huffing and looking antsy next to him.
As the both begun to collect the drinks, Bellamy turned to Murphy, helping him pick up glasses. “Murphy. Don’t be an ass. I invited you because I thought you could be a decent person for at least an hour.”
Shaking the hair from his eyes, Murphy’s tone was deep and hallow, “Trust me. Right now, this is me being decent.”
As Murphy went to take another glass, Bellamy refused to release it until Murphy met his eyes. “Try harder. Or leave.”
Slipping back into the booth, they both handed out the drinks. Murphy sat back against the leather, sinking into the booth as he sipped his drink.
-&-
“I’m quitting.” Raven slipped her hand around the glass, nodding to Bellamy at his eyebrows rose at her words, before looking back at O.
“No, you’re not. Don’t be dramatic.”
“I am. Tomorrow.”
“Nope” O quirked her eyebrow, practically begging for a fight.
Miller slumped against the table top, clearly over this back and forth, looking towards Bellamy.
Bellamy just stared back, confused.
“Rae, why are you quitting this time?”
“Because of that bitch Griffin. She thinks because she tosses her money around she can control every minute detail of the project.”
Murphy sputtered into his drink, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He had been unusually quiet after Bellamy’s words, simply sitting back and drinking while he watched them all until now.
“Griffin?”
Raven turned towards him, Bellamy could see the muscle in her jaw tick as she retrained herself. “Yeah”
Murphy slid the glass before him out of the way, leaning over Miller towards Raven, he unintentionally put his hand against Jasper’s thigh as he attempted to climb over the bodies between him and Raven. Jasper quickly slapped at his hand, making a rude comment about Murphy’s sexual preferences.
Bellamy expected a retort, anger, a punch?
Instead he watched Murphy’s face begun to crumple and contort in pain. “About 5’5”, short blonde hair, bright blue eyes...... gorgeous?” The last part was said under his breath, as Murphy’s head dropped.
Raven looked around the table quickly. “No… Blondish longer hair, brown eyes, older.”
Murphy seemed to slowly take in the information, moving back to his original position, leaning back against the leather, absentmindedly he reached for his forgotten glass twisting the glass around the table.
“Abigail Griffin?”
Raven let out an undignified snort, “yep.” A few looks were passed around the table before Octavia broke the silence.
“You know her.”
Murphy slammed the glass against the table breaking it. “Unfortunately, yes. A little too well.”
Bellamy noticed the bartender moving towards their table, his shoulders tense and a fierce expression on his face, Murphy did too. He stood and moved towards him, Bellamy watched the exchange before Murphy’s arm pulled back then flew towards the bartender’s face.
-&-
Murphy:
Murphy slumped against Bellamy’s shoulder, the others were close behind them, huffing with exaggerated sighs. It was almost amusing.
“Good one Murphy. Just like you to get kicked out of our favourite bar.” Murphy sneered at his words.
“You didn’t have to come to my rescue.” He rubbed his face, hiding the wince as he pushed against a tender spot.
“What is your problem?” pushing off Bellamy’s shoulder Murphy turned his mocking sneer towards the shorter of the Blake siblings.
“My problem. Right now.” Murphy leaned closer, breathing against her cheek. “Is you.”
“Murphy. Back off.” Realising that Bellamy’s generosity was wearing thin, he turned, ignoring their calls as he begun to walk away.
He didn’t need their shit. He shouldn’t have even come.
Tonight, was just another shit day, in a long list of shit days in the life of Jonathan Murphy.
Realising they were following, probably due to their self-righteous need to be good, and not let him wander off drunk and alone. He turned, preparing to tell them to let him wallow in his misery.
He felt his foot slip and twist but barely noticed it. Too caught up in his anger.
-&-
Octavia:
Octavia huffed again. Walking up and down the bright hallway.
Fucking Murphy. Turning her eyes on Bellamy, she waited until she caught his eyes.
Bellamy sighed, running a hand through the curls at the base of his neck. “Don’t say it O.”
“Say what Bell. That this is the worst night ever and it could have been avoided.”
Octavia stood before him, her hands on her hips.
“What do you want from me O? The guy looked like shit, I thought a good night out might help him.”
“Well it was neither a ‘good’ night, or helpful for Murphy.”
Next to him Miller released a huff of air, “obviously.”
Monty and Jasper were relatively quiet but, Octavia figured that was due to their slow but sure comedown. Raven was stretching out her leg, looking tired and gloomy. “Am I the only one wondering why we’re still here? Waiting around like we’re concerned family.”
Bellamy stood, grabbing gently at her arm, in an attempt to calm her. The nurses at the station near them, had looked quickly in her direction after her comment.
“Because Murphy’s unconscious and bleeding.”
Octavia tried to ignore the tinge of sympathy she felt. “So? He’s getting 9 stiches in the back of his head, they said he’ll be fine. Ready to go home tomorrow.”
“O, come on. We can’t leave the guy alone in the hospital.”
Miller’s deep voice broke the tense atmosphere between the two siblings, “look we’ll just stay to make sure he’s okay. As soon as he’s conscious he’ll tell us to ‘fuck off’ and we’ll be on our way.”
Octavia slipped into Bellamy’s now empty set, “awesome.”
One of the nurses slipped around the bench, walking towards the group. She had clearly overheard their conversation.
They all instinctively turned towards her, she looked a little overwhelmed and stopped about a foot away from Bell.
She addressed them all, but focused mostly on her brother as he was closest.
“Your friend…” she seemed to stutter over the word, her eyes flicking towards Octavia, clearly unsure about her use of the term: friend. Octavia in turn rolled her eyes, before catching Miller’s eye, hoping he’d share her exasperation.
“He’s fine. The doctor is with him now, just checking his stiches. Unfortunately, I can’t let you all in to see him right now.”
Octavia tried to control her sigh, she was beyond ready to be home in bed beside her boyfriend.
“We just wanted to confirm, that Mr. Murphy’s wife had been contacted?”
The group seemed to tense at her question, confused.
“Wife?” Bellamy stuttered as he spoke, clearly, he was unaware of her too.
The nurse quickly turned grabbing the clip board, “yes. A Mrs Clarke Griffin- Murphy.”
-&-