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An incessant beeping broke through the thin haze of sleep Murphy had been enjoying and he groaned blearily, throwing an arm out in search of the offending device. Dragging himself out of bed and over to the sink, he splashed water on his face and looked up at the tired eyes reflected in the mirror. They had been on the ring for barely a year, but already the stagnant monotony of life in space was beginning to take its toll.
The stasis of their newfound existence was somehow more exhausting than the constant months spent battling for survival on the ground. Even worse was the shear amount of time he now spent alone with nothing but his thoughts. He didn’t want to have to process the events of his time on earth, but now that he was no longer running or fighting, he was finding it harder and harder to keep everything carefully shut away and ignored. He had faced a similar problem during the days spent locked in Becca’s bunker, but here the memories and pain seemed closer to the surface. Here, there were others trapped with him who served as a daily reminder, not only of the horrors he had suffered, but the horrors he had inflicted. What irritated him the most however, was how everyone else seemed to be successfully repressing the events leading up to their launch. Sure, people were obviously dealing with it individually, but no one brought it up or talked about it. As the months ticked by, Murphy was becoming more and more resentful of this ability. He was going mad with the silence of it and couldn’t shake the feeling that-
A quiet knock broke through Murphy’s reverie.
“Murphy? You up and ready to go?”
He jerked the door open to reveal a tousle-haired Bellamy, who smiled tiredly before turning to jog off down the corridor without waiting for him to follow.
Bellamy had taken to dragging Murphy along for his morning circuit of the ring. He insisted that they all keep active and maintain some sense of routine, but Murphy understood it was his way of releasing any built-up feelings of tension and helplessness. Bellamy’s guilt at leaving Clarke behind and his anxieties over Octavia’s welfare had made him strangely withdrawn for the first few months on the ring. He had wallowed alone in his quarters and distanced himself from any decision-making, leaving Raven and Monty to take charge. He had only emerged from his solitude two months ago, joining the others for meals and helping with small tasks.
This morning however, Bellamy seemed lighter and more present than usual. He kept casting sidelong glances in Murphy’s direction as they began their first lap and Murphy could tell he was stealing himself to say something.
“Alright, Bell. What’s up? I know I’m irresistible, but there’s no need to stare quiet so hard.”
Bellamy snorted, fist flying out to whack Murphy’s shoulder. “I-, I need some advice” he admitted slowly.
“What, and you thought I’d be a good person to help?” Murphy laughed. “Harper lives for that shit. Or if it’s a guy’s opinion you need, Monty is clearly the obvious choice.”
“I suppose…” he sighed. “But they both seem so happy here… I just thought you might understand.”
“Not feeling the domestic bliss of life in space then?”
“Hardly” Bellamy pushed the sweaty hair off his forehead and let out a long huff of breath. “My whole life has been about protecting my sister, protecting our people, and fighting for their survival. Now they’re all thousands of miles away on an irradiated planet, while I’m stuck here unable to do anything. I don’t even know if they’re safe.”
“And I feel guilty for feeling so relieved” he confessed. “Relieved that I don’t have to think of anyone else for once. Things are stable here and the technical aspects are under control. I’m not needed… and that feels strangely freeing.”
Murphy couldn’t relate to this sentiment. It was precisely that feeling of uselessness, of not being needed, that was making him feel jittery and trapped.
“Echo’s asked me to train with her” Bellamy continued, apparently unable to stop now that he’d started talking. “And I agreed.”
Murphy was unsure what Bellamy was driving at, or how this information was related to the emotional vomit that had proceeded it. He opened his mouth to ask what the fuck Echo had to do with anything, but Bellamy beat him to the punch yet again.
“She’s a warrior too. We understand one another” Bellamy said and then stopped in his tracks, turning to face Murphy and breathing deeply. “Does it make me a terrible person to want something easy and safe, to want her, when I- ” he looked suddenly shaky and unsure. “…when I just lost Clarke. When I just abandoned my sister.”
Murphy finally understood what Bellamy was asking and oh. Oh. He felt suddenly and completely out of his depth, frantically searching for the right thing to say. Bellamy was wrong, Monty would have been the much better choice here. Bellamy was looking at him cautiously, as though awaiting a pronouncement of judgement.
“It’s been a year Bell” he began carefully. “I think you can be forgiven for trying to move on and make something of your time here.” He thought abruptly of Emori, who had been sleeping in Raven’s quarters for a month now. He thought of Clarke. He thought of everything they had lost and hated how much they had all changed.
“You may be guilty of a lot of things but leaving was not your fault. You don’t need to punish yourself for the next four years because of it.” He knew he didn’t fully believe his own words. It felt so hollow. So trite.
But Bellamy seemed appeased. His face had relaxed into a self-depreciating smile and the tension seemed to have finally left his shoulders. He clapped Murphy hard on the shoulder.
“Thanks Murphy” he said and turned to finish their run.
As they made their way down the last stretch of empty corridor, Murphy played his own words back to himself, mulling them over and over.
“You don’t need to punish yourself.”
“I think you can be forgiven.”
***
Murphy attempted to use his post-run shower as a means of distracting himself from the introspection and melancholia that had stolen over him after their run. After a solid few minutes standing motionless under the steady stream of water, he finally admitted defeat, cleaned up and made his way down to the mess hall with Bellamy for breakfast. They seated themselves either side of Monty at the table, Murphy offering him a loose two-fingered salute in greeting and Bellamy smiling wanly.
“Morning guys” Monty grinned, handing them each a bowl of his latest algae experiment. Murphy took his warily, sniffed the dark green concoction and promptly wrinkled his nose up in disgust.
“So, what should we expect from this week’s batch? A classic case of the runs or something a little more exciting? A mild coma perhaps?”
Monty shot him a nasty look, just as Harper emerged from the kitchen and swatted Murphy lightly on the head, placing a jug of water in the centre of the table.
“Don’t be so ungrateful” she berated him. “I’d like to see you try to make anything vaguely edible up here.”
“I’ll have you know that I’m an excellent cook and I resent any insinuations to the contrary” he picked up his bowl and took a tentative sip of the algae, grimacing at the now all too familiar flavour. “Fuck, I wish we had salt.”
Monty cocked his head and seemed to consider this. “Well… I could try extract some during the water recycling process-”
“Fuck no. I am not eating piss salt” Murphy said sharply.
“Oh, come on! We already drink recycled wastewater Murphy, what’s the difference?”
“And I’m already living in denial of that fact, thank you very much” he bit back, scowling at the water jug. Harper snorted with mirth and proceeded to pour them each a glass, grinning as Murphy continued to glower darkly at his.
“Why does Murphy look like someone’s poisoned his drink?”
Raven, Echo and Emori had arrived back from their morning sparing session and flopped down at the table around them. Echo promptly stole Murphy’s glass, examining it closely and taking a tentative sniff. “Looks fine to me” she said, holding it up to the light.
“He’s just being dramatic” Harper responded, still grinning. “You’d think being raised on the Ark would have made him more resilient to this kind of thing.”
Echo hummed in agreement, eyes glittering with mischief and proceeded to down Murphy’s water in one quick gulp.
“Hey!” he grumbled. “It might be piss water, but that’s my piss water Echo.”
She grinned and flicked a spec of algae off the table at him. He kicked her under the bench and turned to Raven.
“And how is our newest warrior in training? Manage to knock anyone out yet?” he asked.
“Not yet, but I’m getting close! I managed to get Emori to tap out this morning so that’s progress at least” she looked to Echo, who nodded her approval.
“Yeah, well Emori isn’t exactly a warrior now is she. It’d be more her style to stab you in the back and steal your clothes than fight you head on." He spoke without thinking, but immediately regretted his words as the whole table fell silent. Out of the corner of his eye saw Echo grimace across the table at Bellamy, while Raven rolled her eyes in exasperation. They all braced themselves for the explosion and sure enough-
“I’m not the one with a history of stabbing people unawares John” Emori snarled. Bellamy started fidgeting with his spoon and Harper got up saying “I’m going to refill the water…”, but before she could move an inch Emori had continued.
“And frankly I think everyone has had enough of your little jokes and jabs. You sit around everyday moping while the rest of us work and train, but still expect us to accept your cynicism and mockery. Fuck that. Fuck. You.”
Before Murphy could stop himself, he was reaching for another cruel retort and throwing it in her face just to see her expression crumple. From there, the argument spiralled out of control and soon the situation was unsalvageable. Emori rose to her feet, lunged across the table at him, and managed to clip him on the side of the face. Bowls, water and algae flew to the floor. Everyone was shouting. Echo seized Emori round the middle and hauled her back, while Bellamy wrapped an arm around Murphy’s torso to stop him retaliating.
It was as though a haze had descended on Murphy’s senses; he was aware of his own mouth still moving, of Emori’s eyes getting glassier, of Bellamy’s voice low and beseeching in his ear, but he couldn’t make it out. Finally, his brain was pulled out of the fog and he was aware of Emori shouting at him, cheeks red with fury.
“Well I’m definitely not enough for you John!” Emori was crying now, her fists clenched tightly at her sides, a bruise already starting to form along her knuckles. “It’s like you only loved me when I gave you my full attention. When we wanted the same things. But now-”
He felt her words rip into him and suddenly it wasn’t just his face that was throbbing painfully, but his entire body.
“Now I have a purpose beyond surviving, beyond living day to day.” Bellamy’s arm was still restraining him, but he had gone limp in his grip. He couldn’t look at her. He could sense everyone’s eyes on him and felt an overwhelming need to flee the scene.
“I’ve found people who encourage me to be better. I’ve found things I’m good at, that I enjoy. And you fucking resent me for it!”
“I don’t resent you-”
“Yes, you do John. You fucking do.” She said it with finality, wrenching herself from Echo’s hold and storming out of the hall. Bellamy let his arm drop at last and Murphy shrugged out of his reach.
“Murphy let’s all just-” Monty began cautiously.
“I’m going for a walk” Murphy growled, and he slouched out of the room after Emori, leaving a deafening silence in his wake.
***
Raven was the one who eventually found him staring out the window of an abandoned airlock and nursing his freshly blackened eye. He half expected her to berate him for his behaviour in the mess hall, but she was uncharacteristically quiet. She perched herself on the window ledge facing him, rested her head back against the glass and stared up into his face. He felt a sudden and terrible need to cry.
“I don’t know how to be here Raven” he began, keeping his eyes trained on the far distant form of earth swirling below them. “Emori’s right. I have no idea what it means to stop surviving and just live.”
He could see her watching him out of the corner of his eye and barrelled on.
“On the ground I just focused on getting through each day without dying. I never stopped to think about what I was surviving for…” He felt her hand curl around his forearm, fingers digging into skin almost to the point of pain. He leaned into the touch and turned his head to meet her gaze. “Just being alive was enough.”
She nodded, seeming to understand. “I feel like we’ve just pressed pause though, don’t you?” she whispered back. “Eventually we’ll have to go back to the ground and start everything all over again. We’re getting a glimpse of real life and peace here, but I can’t seem to accept it… not when I know it’s just going to be snatched away so soon.”
“Maybe that’s it, maybe I can’t accept that we have this, even briefly. Or maybe I just don’t want it. I can’t decide which is worse.” He sighed and turned to sit beside her on the ledge, bumping their shoulders together in the process. “That’s fucked up right? That I might just be happier running and fighting and killing.”
“Were you happy though? On the ground?” she asked.
“I don’t think happy is really the right word, no.” He let out a huff of laughter and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes tiredly.
“When do you think you were last happy then?” she asked. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot too and it honestly feels so distant. I know there were moments on earth when things were good, but for the most part I was barely holding it together. Maybe back on the Ark, working with Sinclair or spending evenings with Finn’s family. But even those memories feel tainted now.”
“Shit, I don’t even know… As you said, there were moments. But I think it was mostly the adrenaline and feeling of purpose that kept me sane. That was as close to happy as I got.” This thought made him ache in a way that he couldn’t even attempt to put into words. Raven somehow seemed to sense this and reached out to him again, her fingers ghosting over his knuckles before entwining their hands together. He stared down at the join of their fingers and felt slightly lighter.
“I think we’ve got to learn to live with ourselves first” Raven murmured. “And with all the terrible things we’ve done. Then maybe we can start to learn happiness too.”
“Well I’m doing horribly with that” he chuckled. She squeezed his hand tightly and shook her head.
“I reckon you’re doing better than you think Murphy.” He looked up finally and realised how close they were sitting, pressed up against one another with their knees touching.
“Do any of us really deserve to be happy though? After everything” he asked. His nose was a hair’s breadth away from hers and he could see a slight smudge of grease on the upper edge of her hairline.
“Maybe not” she replied, her breath mingling with his. “But we have a second chance now and if we can forgive each other and forgive ourselves I think we can try.”
He rested his forehead briefly against hers and sighed before getting up and stretching his arms above his head.
“Screw it.” he huffed. “Let’s start a movement of peace and love, Reyes.”
Raven’s laughter echoed down the hall and he grinned, holding out his hand and pulling her to her feet. A cautious hope was beginning to creep through his veins, fuelled by Raven’s words and the warmth of her fingers still clasped in his. Revelling in this new feeling, he squeezed her hand tighter and together they made their way back across the ring to the others.
***
Despite his best intentions, Murphy’s subsequent apology to Emori did not go well. After searching the ring twice, he eventually found her with her head stuck in an air vent and tools sprawled around her on the floor. He stopped at her feet, before taking a deep breath and summoning his last ounce of courage. Sincerity was not his strong suit and he’d already had enough deep and meaningful conversations today to last him a lifetime. He hoped he could make this quick.
“You know you can’t burrow your way out of here, right?”
There was a clattering noise within the vent and Emori cursed loudly.
“Really John? I thought I made it pretty clear that I don’t want to be around you right now” she sighed, her voice muffled and echoing within the walls.
“Oh, you did” Murphy responded, rubbing his eye morosely. “But I still thought I’d better apologise or else you might have enough time to formulate a revenge plot.”
Emori shimmied out of the vent and looked up at him, one eyebrow raised, and lips curled in an incredulous smile. Murphy ignored her scepticism and ploughed on. “You were right. I don’t have a fucking clue how to be useful in our current situation.” He hesitated briefly, glancing around the corridor to avoid her gaze. “And I’m sorry for taking that out on you. I was cruel.”
She seemed to consider him, eyebrow still raised and a calculating expression on her face. Murphy noticed she was still holding a wrench from whatever work she had been conducting in the vent and made a quick plea to any gods out there that she wouldn’t lob it at him. A punch was one thing, but he was in no fit state to dodge such a heavy missile if she decided he was being sarcastic.
To his relief, Emori dropped the offending object into the toolbox and got to her feet. She leant back against the wall, offered Murphy a half-smile and finally said “Was that really so hard?”
He rolled his eyes and looked away again. “Maybe.”
“I mean, it’s only taken you a year to admit that you’re not ok. That might be a record” she noted wryly.
“Yeah, well everyone else seems to be just fine and dandy or living in denial, so forgive me for not wanting to bring down the mood.”
“We are not all fine and dandy” she said, suddenly frustrated. “Bellamy has been a total mess! Raven’s working herself to the bone, Monty’s still grieving Jasper… Echo and I have been trying to figure out how to fit-in and make ourselves useful. We’re all just muddling through!” She raised her hands in exasperation. “But at least we’re trying, John.”
He felt suddenly ashamed. “I know” he sighed. “I guess I’ve just been struggling to see the point of that.”
“The point?” she asked, looking confused now.
“Well, yeah” he shrugged. “Why try when you already know it’ll end in failure?”
“You certainly seem confident that failure’s the only outcome” she responded slowly. “Don’t you think that’s a self-fulfilling prophesy? I would have thought it’s just as bad to sit passively by and do nothing.”
“Perhaps” he said. He rolled this thought over for a moment, trying to understand why it left such a bad taste in his mouth. “But I don’t really see how what you guys are doing is much better.”
“I spoke to Raven earlier and she said that we all have to learn to live with ourselves in order to have a chance at happiness” he continued. “So maybe I just don’t see the point of playing happy-family and pretending everything’s fine. We need to sort out our mess and actually fix things.”
“I see.” Her face had closed off now and her tone held none of its earlier humour. “You think we’re all just play acting?”
“Aren’t you? We never talk about what happened on the ground. We tiptoe around each other’s loss and grief; so many of us have hurt one another.” He rubbed at his temples and sighed tightly. Why couldn’t they have had this conversation months ago; where had his courage been then?
“You know today was the first time Bell brought up Clarke or Octavia to me of his own accord” he said. “And it made me realise that we’ve all been afraid to say their names around him; we’re scared of his pain. Same with Jasper and Monty.”
“We eat, we work, and we distract ourselves” he gestured around the corridor, punctuating each point with a jab of his hand. “But we’re not healing; we’re all still caught up in the past…” He looked her in the eye and noticed tears beginning to gather there. “How is that trying?” he asked softly.
“So, what- you think we should have a big group therapy session… and talk about our feelings?” she sniffed. “I’d have thought that would be your worst nightmare John.”
He snorted. “Don’t get me wrong, that does sound like a nightmare… But at least it’d be out there in the open, not festering under this thin veneer of pleasantness!” He spoke that last word as though it was particularly rancid and Emori flinched at his change in tone.
He reached out for her shoulders and shook them slightly. “I need to get angry and rage about everything that’s happened to us. And from my conversations with Bellamy and Raven today, I think they do too.”
“So yeah, maybe I’m bitter that everyone else has found a purpose and is keeping occupied up here. But I don’t think they’ve found peace” he finished.
Emori was fully crying now and she shrugged his hands off, turning away to wipe her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
“I don’t understand why you’re saying this now” she mumbled. “Where was your willingness to fight for our happiness months ago? I told you it wasn’t working anymore, and you just let me go…”
He swallowed “I’m sorry… I guess I didn’t even really know what I was feeling until today when I spoke to Raven- ”
At these words, Emori met his gaze sharply and he floundered under the intensity of her scrutiny. As he struggled to recapture his train of thought, she spoke, and her voice was filled with a calm that somehow unnerved him even more.
“I’m not the one you’re willing to try for” she said, a sharp understanding in her eyes.
It wasn’t a question. She stated it as an immovable fact and Murphy’s stomach dropped as she turned her back on him, this time with a sense of finality, and began to gather up her tools from the floor.
“Emori- ” he began, but she cut him off.
“I just wish you would have fought for me John” she whispered.
She left him alone in the darkened corridor, feeling even more confused and frustrated than when the conversation had begun. He sagged against the wall, slid to the floor and knocked his head against his knees twice in rapid succession. Fuck. This. Maybe the others had it right and he should just slap on a fake smile and pretend everything was fine. How hard could it be?
But then again, he never shied away from a little confrontation and was well used to being perceived as the asshole. If everyone else was dead set on ignoring the emotional baggage they had brought up to space with them, he would gladly be the one to remind them; maybe this was his way of being useful. He grinned ruefully to himself; John Murphy, shit stirrer extraordinaire! Not the most practical of roles maybe, but it would certainly keep life exciting.