Work Text:
“The guy who owned this place had to be some kind of freak,” Murphy mused, running his finger across a metal ball with wires dangling from it. It was covered in dust, but it hadn't rusted, probably because the whole building had been sealed shut for hundreds of years. They'd almost given up on getting it open when Jasper had managed to blow the door with some kind of explosive that he definitely hadn't told anyone about when he'd made it. Not that Murphy was going to judge. Some things were better kept to yourself, especially with people like Clarke and Bellamy in charge.
“Just don't touch anything,” Bellamy scolded, swatting his hand away as he walked past him, farther into the room.
The lights didn't work despite Monty swearing he could figure out how to get the generator running, but they did find some flashlights in the upstairs part of the house.
Until they'd reached the basement, everything had looked pretty normal. Nice couch, tacky rug, way too expensive fridge. It was definitely the bougiest bunker they'd broken into. Murphy had to admit, he liked the idea of stealing from these assholes, even if they were dead.
The basement was where it got weird. Some kind of lab full of technology Murphy didn't understand, and from the looks of it, didn't want to. It seemed to be geared towards torture, like the things Murphy had seen in movies about mad scientists.
Most of it looked unfinished, something he was glad for. He couldn't imagine the horrors Clarke would inflict upon the Earth with a bunker full of high tech weapons. Especially knowing what she could do with just a bit of rope and an angry mob.
Murphy scoffed at Bellamy and moved on, eyeing the devices, wondering if any of them would be worth stealing. Probably not. He doubted he'd ever figure out how to use them, but maybe some of the tools could be useful. He slipped a couple in his bag, a screwdriver and some pliers, plus a coil of wire. Worst case scenario, he never needed them, but Monty might, eventually.
He had a rather tenuous relationship with Monty. He was the only one in camp who didn't immediately shun him, but that was probably just because he was too nice to tell Murphy to go fuck himself. He grabbed a couple of other things he thought Monty might be able to use and moved on.
He started checking drawers fin hopes of finding some hidden treasure he could slip into his bag. He found almost nothing. A couple blades, some tape, but it wasn't what he had been hoping for. He'd almost given up on finding anything down here, making his way back towards the stairs. There would be more stuff up there, anyway.
Out of curiosity, he pulled open one last drawer and almost laughed, his fingers tracing the smooth glass and raised indent of its faded label, the brown liquor swirling around inside the bottle. Still half full.
He grinned. That was worth keeping.
He raised back up, bumping into Jasper behind him.
“Watch it!” He snarled, having been pushed forward, colliding with one of the metal contraptions on the table.
“My bad, dude,” Jasper apologized, holding his hands up and looking afraid. Murphy scared him, it was something about the way he always looked ready to attack anyone nearby. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Murphy huffed, trying to push himself up and hitting his head on a stand full of wires. He fought to get them off of him, but when he pulled, he heard a click, and immediately he felt like he couldn't breathe.
“What the fu-” Murphy's curse was cut off by a gasp that turned into a scream as pain shot through his neck and down his arms, freezing him in place. He could feel something cold on his neck, metal biting into his skin and pricks of white hot pain sending shocks across his whole body.
He felt to the floor, panicking, barely able to hear his own screams over the roar in his ears, watching as Jasper reached down to pull on whatever had attached itself to his neck, only to jerk away like he'd been shocked.
“Bellamy!” Murphy heard Jasper call out, sounding terrified.
Bellamy rushed over, angry, with worry and exhaustion etched on his face. “I told you not to touch anything!”
Murphy wanted to punch him. It was Jasper's fucking fault, he'd pushed him into the damned thing!But he couldn't speak without screaming, so he had to let it go. His whole world was on fire.
“Come on, let's get him out of here,” Bellamy demanded, grabbing Murphy and hauling him up off the floor.
Murphy's limbs still weren't cooperating with him, but at least Bellamy was able to lift him up. With Jasper on one side and Bellamy on the other, they made it up the stairs, calling out for Monty and Monroe to meet them.
They wasted no time in leaving. Murphy was shocked. Surely they didn't think his life was more important than the supplies they could find inside? No, definitely not. This was just Bellamy's savior complex in action. Funny how it hadn't kicked in when he hung him, or when he left him for dead, or when he came back to camp sick and close to death.
Murphy hung onto his anger, his spite. It was the only thing keeping him from drowning in the pain that he could feel all the way to his bones.
He lost consciousness at least twice on the way back, but Bellamy didn't stop to check on him. Getting him to camp was more important. He couldn't do anything for Murphy if Murphy was dead. Clarke would be able to help him, he hoped.
That hope was lost soon after Bellamy laid Murphy down on the makeshift operating table they'd used for Finn so long ago. Clarke took one look at the metal ring around Murphy's neck, cutting into his skin, with wires piercing his flesh and shook her head. She had no idea what to do.
Trying to pry it off could kill him, since even one slip of her hand could cause him to bleed out. There was no way to get it off, and any time she touched the wires to pull them away, pain shot up her hand from the electric pulses they sent out. She couldn't imagine how much pain Murphy had to be in.
He was barely awake, unaware of anything but pain and shapes moving around him. He couldn't make out faces, but he could hear voices.
“I need Raven. Go get her!” Clarke barked.
One of the shapes disappeared and Murphy closed his eyes. He was going to die. He knew he was. Choked to death or electrocuted, whichever came first. The cruelty of surviving so many attempts on his life only to be killed just weeks after being accepted back into camp was lost to the searing pain he felt.
“There's no blood, no wounds except for the wires going into him, but I can't get it off. I don't know what to do.” There was panic in Clarke's voice, but Raven's response was calm.
“Get me some gloves and a pair of pliers,” she ordered.
Of course it would be Raven who saved him, Murphy thought. Why would the universe ever cut him a break? He didn't want to die, but he didn't want Raven to be the one to save him. He already felt guilty enough about what happened. He couldn't bear to be in her debt.
He felt a sharp tug on the side of his neck and he screamed, feeling like his skin was being ripped off.
“That's not going to work,” he heard Raven mutter.
He felt her touching the metal collar, apparently not afraid of being fried, herself. “There's nowhere to pry it open, just a hole at the back, but that's too small for anything to get into.” She was talking herself through it, Murphy guessed. He wished he could just pass out already.
“Come on, let go!” Raven demanded. “Stupid piece of shit. Whoever made you was a sadistic bastard!”
If he could have, he would have rolled his eyes. Shouting at it wasn't going to work. She should just give up and let him die.
“Stop it!” she barked angrily.
All of a sudden, the pain stopped. The wires retreated into the collar and Murphy was left panting, looking around the room frantically, unsure of what the hell just happened.
Raven was just as confused, looking at him in shock.
Murphy tried to smirk at her and shrug, but his vision went black and his body gave out, forcing him into a dreamless sleep.
“Murphy?” Raven asked, scared. “Hey, hey! Come on!”
She called for Clarke, afraid Murphy had died, but Clarke reassured her that he was still alive, just in a coma.
“We can't do anything right now. He'll have to wake up on his own. Why don't you get some rest?”
Raven shook her head, feeling exhausted. “I'm going to stay here. Just in case that thing starts trying to kill him again.”
“Okay,” Clarke nodded, eyeing her skeptically. It was just Murphy. “Can I get you anything?”
“I'm fine.”
Clarke nodded again and turned away, leaving Raven to sit beside Murphy alone.
She managed to keep her eyes open for another few hours, studying the collar without touching it. She examined it, and the twisted burns on Murphy's skin, long after the sun had set, until she finally succumbed to sleep, her head resting on the table inches away from Murphy's hand.
.-.-.-.
Raven didn't leave Murphy's side for a full day. She didn't understand the collar or what had happened, but she wasn't going to let him die just because she wasn't there. She didn't even know why she cared, but she did. She was just going to chalk it up to being a better person than he was.
But now she was getting annoyed. She had no idea if he had brain damage, or nerve damage, or internal bleeding, or any number of horrible things because he wouldn't “Wake up!” she growled in frustration.
Murphy shifted slightly and Raven's heart stopped. She jolted upright when Murphy's eyes began to blink open, adjusting to the light of midday.
“R'ven?” he slurred, his mouth dry. He was groggy and he felt off, not quite himself, but he didn't know why.
“Murphy. Finally!” Raven let out a sigh of relief poorly disguised as exasperation. “Stay here, I'll go get Clarke.”
He had no idea where she thought he was going to go, but he watched her dart out of the ship and out of sight. He rubbed his eyes and was caught mid yawn when he suddenly twisted, his neck screaming in pain. His stomach flipped and he rolled over, vomiting onto the floor as the fire in his neck grew stronger until he was screaming again.
He swung his legs over the side of the table and doubled over, grabbing his stomach as tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes. He couldn't even think to be embarrassed, it hurt too much.
The only thought in his head was that he had to get to Raven. He had to get to her now. He stood up and took a few shaky steps towards the door. He had to get to her and stay beside her. He didn't know how, but he knew that was why he was in pain. If he could just get to her, he'd be okay.
The collar felt like a noose, a feeling he was all too familiar with, but this time instead of rope burns, the pain felt like electricity, tiny shocks that sent waves of pain rushing through him, his skin too hot and too cold at the same time. It hurt. Worse than any pain he'd ever felt before.
Then, it was gone and the panic in his head calmed down. He rolled his shoulders and shook his head, unclenching his jaw. He sat back down just seconds before Clarke and Raven entered the room.
That was concerning, Murphy winced. The pain had to be connected to Raven but he didn't understand how or why. Why her? She hadn't even been there when it had happened!
He sat still as Clarke checked him out, answering her questions with as little information as possible. He wanted to be alone to process. Maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe the collar's batteries would die soon. He didn't have any proof, but he had no proof that wasn't the case, either.
He wouldn't even look at Raven, hoping that by avoiding her he could just pretend this was a bad dream and he was still in that coma.
It worked. Until Raven and Clarke left and the pain instantly bloomed against his skin once more.
“Raven!” he shouted, clawing at the collar.
She reappeared, worried, and immediately came to his side. The pain had faded by the time she was back, but Murphy's terror had only grown.
“Do you need me to get Clarke?”
Murphy shook his head violently. “No!”
“Okay?”
“Just, sit down. Please,” he sighed, his voice scratchy. “Is there some water in here?”
Raven grabbed for the bottle next to the table. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Murphy took it gratefully and gulped it down.
“So, you wanna tell me what's wrong or am I going to have to guess?” Raven asked, crossing her arms.
Murphy sighed again, already exhausted. “The pain comes back every time you leave.”
Raven stared at him in confusion, dropping down into the chair. “What?”
“What happened? When I got here? What did you do to me?” he accused.
“I saved your life!” Raven snapped. “You think I did this on purpose?”
Murphy winced and shook his head. “No! I just want to know what happened! Jesus Christ, Raven!”
He took a deep breath and calmed down as best he could. “Why were you sitting next to me when I woke up?”
“Because nobody else was able to make that thing stop killing you,” she explained, defensive.
“And how did you do that?” he sneered.
Raven paused. “I don't know.” She began to explain to Murphy what had happened when he'd been brought in, how nothing was working until it just stopped.
Murphy groaned and fell back onto the table.
“So, what happened to you?” she asked.
“Jasper's an idiot,” Murphy brushed it off with a shrug.
“Murphy, tell me what happened."
Murphy felt himself start to speak and stopped himself. What did it matter? He shook his head.
He felt the nausea creep back, then the faint prick of lightening on his skin and he looked up at her terrified. It was back full force in seconds, and he didn't understand why. He felt compelled to tell her what had happened to him.
He didn't notice the pain had stopped until halfway through his story. He finished quietly, more afraid than he'd ever been before. “I think I have to obey you.” he whispered.
Raven grimaced, obviously displeased. “That's just great.”
“It's not like I asked for this!” Murphy snapped, shooting back up. “You think I want this?”
“No! But neither do I, asshole!” she shot back. She took a deep breath and stood up. “Come on. Let's go see if we can fix this.”
Murphy didn't have a choice, he had to follow her, but he would have done so willingly if he thought she could fix it. He didn't have much hope, though. Hope had never panned out for him before.
He followed her into her workshop and sat down when she pointed to a stool and told him to. He bit his tongue to keep from snapping at her. That wouldn't do any good and she could very easily just walk away from him and let the collar kill him. He was at her mercy and he didn't want to piss her off. If he had to follow her orders to survive, so be it.
Raven's computers didn't bring up a whole lot, but she was able to find out enough information about the collar to realize it wasn't a mistake. The device had been intentionally created to force someone into slavery. She shuddered at the thought of a people so cruel they'd create something like that. She couldn't imagine what life must have been like before the bombs. Obviously their history lessons had left a lot out.
“Well, Bellamy's going to have to go back and look for something to help me figure this out,” she decided, sitting back in her chair.
“Could Abby help?”
“She's with Indra and Octavia, talking to the Grounders. Won't be back for a while. Looks like you're stuck with me.”
“Okay,” Murphy sighed in resignation. “Should you go talk to Bellamy, then?”
“You'll have to come with.”
Murphy winced but stood up. “Might as well do it now.”
Murphy remained quiet during their conversation, just wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. He hated this. He hated being bound to Raven. He hated having to obey her. He wished he'd just died instead. Then at least he would have had some dignity left.
Raven left out a lot in her talk with Bellamy, and Murphy was grateful, though he didn't understand why she wouldn't just tell him that he was her bitch now. He had no choice in the matter and he expected her to revel in this, to enjoy it, but she seemed more angry than anything. Probably at him.
He deserved it, though. He shot her. He had apologized, once, while drunk, but he'd never had the guts to say it while sober. He got the feeling she hadn't believed him.
“Take a group and bring back everything you can. If we don't get it off him, he could die,” Raven finished as they both looked over at Murphy.
He gave them a little wave and a pained grin, knowing his fate rested in their hands. He couldn't think of anyone more likely to kill him for sport, so this wasn't going to be an easy process. Why the collar couldn't have attached him to Monty, or hell, even Jasper, he didn't know. He was going to blame the universe, though. Murphy's law, the guiding principle of his life.
“See if you can find a manual or something. Even just some notes. Maybe I can figure out how to deactivate it.”
“We'll leave in as soon as it's light out,” Bellamy grunted, running a hand through his hair and glaring at Murphy.
“Hey, I'm not the one who told her to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn, don't blame me.” Okay, maybe he was, but she could have said no.
“If you hadn't touched shit like I told you not to, then-”
“That's enough out of both of you,” Raven demanded, shutting them both up. “You, go back to bed. Murphy, come on, I'm tired.”
Murphy rolled his eye and fell into step behind her. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”
“We'll stop by your tent so you can grab your blankets and we'll build you a pallet as far away from me as possible,” Raven told him, giving the impression she'd already figured everything out. And maybe she had. He wouldn't put it past her.
Her comment did sting, but no more than usual, so he brushed it off. He grabbed his things as quickly as he could so he wouldn't upset her further. With the ability to cause him pain just by walking away, he was going to do his best to stay on her good side.
She found him a corner in her workshop to set up his things and wished him a good night, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she walked away. Murphy felt like an ass for annoying her, even if it wasn't on purpose. She didn't need the added stress.
He had liked her, in the beginning. He'd thought she was a badass, but he hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her. He'd been too sick, and then he'd tried to kill Octavia and accidentally shot her and any hope of a friendship died. He was spectacular at fucking things up.
.-.-.-.
After a couple days of getting used to their new normal, they settle in. There's a lot of animosity, but Raven never purposefully hurt him and he was getting used to following her commands, even if he resented them.
He was getting used to her, too, and he could tell she was getting used to him. He didn't have much hope for anything more than for her to hate him a little less after this was all over, but that didn't stop him from imagining a world where they actually became friends.
On day two, they'd discovered that she could punish him if he disobeyed and end the pain. Murphy despised that with his entire being, but it beat hours of nausea and electric shocks through his entire body.
Raven had slapped him when he'd started to go catatonic from the collar after refusing an order and immediately the pain had stopped.
Murphy couldn't imagine anything more cruel than this. The universe really out did itself this time.
He could tell Raven wasn't thrilled with it, either, though, and that made it a little better. Murphy couldn't be farther than fifteen feet from her before he got sick. She needed a break from him as much as he did from her.
But that couldn't happen, so he'd tried to cut down on the snark and the insults he usually spewed constantly. After all, she had a right to hate him. She'd done nothing to him and he'd shot her. He hadn't meant to, but intent didn't change the outcome.
He'd told her that a few hours ago, while she was taking apart some of the tech they'd brought back from the hell house in an attempt to understand the collar. She'd given him an unreadable look and hadn't said a word to him since. He was sure he'd fucked up, but if she wasn't talking to him, then she wasn't giving him orders.
Still, the silence was getting to him. He hated silence, especially one as awkward and tense as the ones between Raven and himself.
He was stopped before he could say anything by Bellamy waltzing in and dropping a bag onto the table in front of Raven. He fixed her with a smile and poked it. “That's everything we could find. How's your pet?” Bellamy asked, his eyes flitting to Murphy for a second before returning to Raven.
Murphy balled his hands into fists but said nothing. He wasn't going to start a fight and have Raven give him an order in front of Bellamy. He couldn't face that.
“Murphy is fine,” she said, emphasizing his name. Murphy was shocked, but let it go. He didn't want to sort through any of the emotions that had risen up inside him when she'd said that. “And thank you.”
Bellamy glanced from her to Murphy, who gave him a sarcastic grin and flipped him off, before walking away. Obviously Murphy had put Raven in a bad mood and he didn't want to be the one to put up with it.
“Come here, you read through this, I'll start on these,” Raven instructed, holding out a spiral notebook full of handwritten notes.
Murphy hesitated but grabbed the notebook as soon as he felt electricity spark on his skin. “I can't.”
“Why not?” Raven demanded, giving him a dirty look.
Murphy squirmed, feeling stupid. But, the collar read her tone as an order, so he said, “I'm dyslexic. I can't read all that well. Especially not someone's handwriting.”
Raven's face immediately soften and she turned away from him. “Fine. You go through the rest of this stuff and organize it. Put away any tools similar to what we already have, everything else, divide by type and I'll look through them tonight.”
“Okay,” then, after a pause as he pulled the heavy pack down off the table and onto the floor, where it'd be easier to go through, “Thanks.”
“Just go through the shit, Murphy,” but her tone was soft, more of a joke than an order.
.-.-.-.
Slowly, they stopped hating each other. Murphy wasn't sure why, but Raven stopped insulting him, did her best not to give him orders, and started being a little more physical with him. Just little things, brushing his hand when taking a tool from him and neither flinched away, gently shoving him when he was in her way, and smiling, god, the smiles she gave him made his stomach flutter and he hated it so much. But he never wanted her to stop.
It had been two weeks since Bellamy had returned and Raven had tried a lot of things to get the collar off, but most just resulted in Murphy being shocked and Raven soothing him while he rubbed at the new marks on his neck. He'd never been a vain person, but the amount of scars he was going to have by the time this was all over was upsetting. If only because he'd never be able to forget what caused them.
But even though they were okay, not everything was looking up. Rumors flew around the camp. Rumors that everyone knew were true.
Murphy couldn't go two steps out of Raven's workshop without someone calling him her errand boy, her bitch, and his least favorite, her pet. He knew Bellamy had started that one and it infuriated him. He was nobody's goddamned pet.
But that was just another thing he had to deal with. He wasn't about to just take it, though, which was why his fists were curled so tight he could feel the skin of his palm breaking.
“Does she feed you in a bowl on the floor, too?” The boy laughed, his eyes daring Murphy to hit him. Begging for it. Murphy was more than willing to comply.
“Shut the fuck up, Ben,” Murphy hissed, stepping closer.
Raven was just a few feet away, not even as far as she could get from him, but she was completely distracted by her conversation with Harper. Whatever they were talking about, Murphy hoped it took long enough for him to beat the shit out of the little prick.
He swung his fist, connecting with the boy's jaw and sending him flying. In seconds he was surrounded by Ben's friends, each one punching him, kicking him, but he'd fought worse battles and he wasn't about to let them win easily. Still, the odds were against him and he began to lose. He was just about to fall to the ground, his side throbbing and his knuckles bleeding, determined to go down swinging, when the boy closest to him jerked away.
“What the fuck?”
Pulled away, then. Raven was pissed. Murphy was fucked.
The crowd slowly stepped away from him, each one watching Raven, her face twisted in a snarl that Murphy was certain spelled his doom.
“Get the fuck out of here. All of you!”
“Come to recuse your pet, then?” one of them sneered.
“Murphy is not a fucking pet,” she hissed, stepping closer to the girl. “And you're gonna stop harassing him or I swear I'll kick your ass.”
“Whatever,” the girl huffed, turning away. The rest followed, leaving the two of them alone.
“You okay, Murphy?”
“I didn't need your help,” Murphy spat. He was confused as to why Raven would help him in the first place, why she'd stand up for him.
“Yeah, well, five against one is pretty shit odds.” She shrugged and smiled. “Come on, let's get you home so I can look at that bruise on your face.”
“I don't need to be babied.”
“Maybe I just want to poke it so you learn your lesson about dragging me into pointless fights,” Raven teased, gently taking Murphy by the elbow and pulling him in the direction of her workshop. “Let's go, okay?”
She was careful not to give him any orders, her tone soft or teasing, but never forceful. Murphy was going to pretend he didn't notice, but he was grateful.
Their relationship seemed to have hit a point of no return and Murphy felt comfortable calling her a friend now. Or as close to it as he could get.
Murphy was less resentful of the tech, knowing it had led to a friendship he wouldn't have had otherwise. He still hated it with a passion, but at least Raven was sticking up for him. He didn't think he could handle it if everyone was against him.
.-.-.-.
“I think I've got something!”
Murphy shot up from his bed where he'd been fiddling with a knife, carving designs into a piece of wood he had found in camp.
He scrambled to Raven's side, peering over her shoulder at the notebook she had in front of her. “What?” It had taken her forever to get through the notebooks without his help, so he had gotten used to the thought of this torment being eternal.
“The hole in the back of your collar is apparently a keyhole. There's a key somewhere. It wasn't in the things Bellamy brought back, so it has to be at the house.”
“So, we just send Bellamy back?”
“Yeah, I'll make a sketch of the key so he knows what it looks like,” she pointed to a picture on the page, “and he should be able to find it and we can get that damn thing off of you.”
“Seriously?” Murphy couldn't believe it. He wasn't going to let himself believe it, but hope filled his heart anyway.
“Yeah. I'll call them in here tomorrow and we'll let them know and they can go out and get it. In about a week, you'll be free.”
Murphy took a step back and leaned against the metal wall, stunned. He couldn't believe freedom was so close. Only a week – barring any deviations from the plan – and he'd be able to go back to life before. He wouldn't have to follow orders anymore. No more electric shocks or nausea, no more pain. Just freedom.
“Thank you.”
Raven just shrugged, trying to act like it she wasn't excited. “And here I was just getting used to having an assistant.”
That brought Murphy back to earth. After the collar was gone, Raven wouldn't want him around anymore. He'd be alone again. “I'd be willing to help out when needed.”
“Please, you're useless at this stuff.” She meant it as a joke but Murphy took it to heart.
“I know.” He had done more damage while helping than he would have if he'd tried to break things on purpose.
“Hey, chin up. You'll be able to sleep in your own tent, bathe without me being a few feet away, and do whatever you want instead of being bound to my schedule.”
“Yeah.” And that would be wonderful, but he'd be alone. “I can't wait.”
“Get some rest. We'll get everything sorted tomorrow.” Raven smiled at him, patting his shoulder.
Murphy hesitated for a second before covering her hand with his. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.
“Don't worry about it.” Raven smiled at him before turning back to the notebook. “Can you grab me a piece of paper?”
“Sure.”
.-.-.-.
If Murphy could make it through this meeting, he could do anything. Bellamy, Clarke, Miller, Jasper, and Monty were gathered all around them at the table. All of Murphy's least favorite people, with the exception of Monty, who had valiantly situated himself next to Murphy so that he wouldn't be forced to share his personal space with one of the others.
“So, if you can just go back to the house one more time, this should all be over.”
“Back, again?” Miller groaned. “That place is a death trap.”
“If you don't, Murphy'll be in my personal space forever and I'll make sure you're the first to hear about each and every one of my frustrations,” Raven threatened, giving Murphy a glance out of the corner of her eye to let him know she wasn't that frustrated with him.
“One more trip won't kill us. Besides, there were some things I wanted to take back that we didn't get last time,” Monty soothed. “That generator has some parts we might be able to use.”
“Okay, so, one last trip?” Bellamy asked, his voice silencing the dissent that Jasper was about to raise.
“Yeah.”
“And nobody's going to touch anything this time, right?”
“Well, Murphy won't be with us,” Jasper laughed.
“Yeah, well, it was your inability to walk that got me into this mess. Maybe you should leave the klutz at home, too. Just in case the next one to get collared is Bellamy. I can't imagine how he'd react to having to take orders from someone,” Murphy sneered angrily.
“Shut up, Murphy,” Raven demanded, exasperated.
Murphy immediately closed his mouth and rolled his eyes as the room broke out into laughter.
“Looks like someone finally found a way to shut you up,” Bellamy mocked. “You sure you want that collar off of him, Raven? Maybe you should just find a way to make him listen to all of us.”
Murphy grit his teeth, his hands curling into fists. Embarrassment washed over him and anger gripped him. He wanted to punch Bellamy in his stupid, ugly fucking face.
And how could Raven do that to him? How dare she? In front of everyone?
“Murphy, hand me that sketch,” Raven instructed, trying to get the meeting back on track.
No. No, Murphy wasn't going to be her bitch in front of everyone. Like hell was he going to follow another order.
Was it even an order?
The collar seemed to think it was. He could feel it come to life.
Seconds passed and Raven stared at him, afraid, while the others looked on in amusement.
Then the pain started. Murphy whimpered as it got worse, but he refused to scream, refused to embarrass himself further. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.
“Murphy, just hand me the sketch,” Raven encouraged quietly.
Murphy couldn't even shake his head. He felt his limbs lock up and he dropped to the floor, fists clenched so tight he made himself bleed. He wasn't going to scream.
He felt sick. He couldn't move. The pain was intense and biting and he knew it would kill him before he gave in. He was done being her pet.
His vision started to grow dark, but before he could slip back into a coma, before he finally got relief from the pain, Raven was by his side. Her fingers tangled in his hair, twisting so tight and pulling, pulling until he screamed.
Then it was over. Murphy's eyes were blurry but slowly he came back to himself. He panted, curling up and trying to hide from the world. He barely noticed Raven angrily sending everyone away, shoving the sketch into Bellamy's hand and practically shoving him down the ladder.
When they were gone, Raven gently pulled Murphy up and helped him into his bed, pulling the furs around him so that he would stay warm as he shook. She was careful not to say anything that could sound like an order.
“I've got you. It's okay now. I'm sorry, Murphy. I'm so sorry.”
She sat down beside him and pulled his head onto her lap, stroking his hair and continuing to mutter whatever comforting words she could think of until he calmed down and his breathing evened out to normal.
“Should've let me die,” he finally muttered, his eyes focused on her stomach, boring holes into it so he didn't have to look at her face.
“Not a chance.”
“Right,” Murphy spat. “Too much fun having your own personal slave, right?”
“Murphy, I'm-”
“Save it.”
“I am!”
“You're not. It was funny, right? Everyone had a good laugh, that's all that matters.”
“Murphy, dammit, look at me!”
Murphy's head jerked towards her face, eyes red. He grit his teeth and hissed, “What?”
“Fuck. I didn't mean to-” Raven groaned and dropped her head, looking at Murphy with sad eyes. His anger melted a little bit, but he tried to hold onto it, not wanting to forgive her just because of those stupid butterflies.
She rubbed her face and started again, “I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for that to happen, for any of this to happen. I'm working on getting the collar off of you. I swear I didn't want that to happen. I've been trying not to give you any orders. I just forgot myself for a moment. I'm sorry.”
Murphy's anger faded completely, leaving him drained and sad. “Not your fault. Just karma, you know?”
“Karma?” Raven gave him a confused look.
Murphy reached out and took the hem of her shirt between his fingers, absentmindedly playing with it. Raven didn't stop him. She'd noticed Murphy fiddled with things when he was stressed or trying to concentrate. She'd never bothered to pay much attention in the psychology class she'd had, but she vaguely remembered it was common with certain issues. It only made Murphy that much more endearing, though she'd never tell him that.
“Yeah. I took your leg, you get my free will. Seems fair.” He sighed, “Honestly, I deserve it.”
“I don't want this, Murphy! Don't you think I'd set you free right now if I could?” Raven pleaded with him, desperately trying to get him to see reason.
“Not really, no,” Murphy admitted with a shrug.
Raven broke. She didn't know how he could think so little of her. “Why not?”
“Because I hurt you, Raven. For life! It's not just a scar or a traumatic memory. I'm the reason you wear that brace. I'm the reason that you can't sleep for too long because your leg hurts. I'm the reason you're like this and I wouldn't blame you if you ordered me to kill myself!”
Raven hadn't realized he'd noticed her inability to sleep. For everyone else, just telling them she had been too focused on her projects was enough to excuse her constant state of tiredness. She shook her head, her voice quiet and broken, “I would never do that.”
“I know. You're too nice. Too good.” Murphy huffed in frustration, giving her shirt a short tug of emphasis that almost made her laugh. If it wasn't for the murderous intent he wore like safety blanket, Murphy would be adorable.
So, he didn't think that little of her. He thought way too much of her. “John Murphy, will you please look at me?” Raven asked.
Murphy waited a second, expecting the pain to come, but it didn't. The collar must not recognize it as an order. Maybe it was the 'please,' or the softness in her voice, which was even more compelling than the collar could ever be.
He looked up at her. “What?”
“I forgive you.”
Murphy's fingers stuttered on the fabric. He was taken aback. He had no idea how to process that. How could she just forgive him? He'd done nothing to earn her forgiveness. He didn't deserve it.
He furrowed his brow. “Why?”
“Because I know you regret it. And I know you're beating yourself up over it, way more than you should.” A deep breath, then she admitted, “And because I care about you, Murphy. I kinda even like you.”
“Oh.” Exactly what did she mean by that? Was she plagued by angry, stomach acid resistant butterflies, too?
“Murphy?”
“I just- When you say you like me...?” he trailed off, uncertain.
“Yeah.” She nodded and brought her hand up to trace his cheekbone. “Like that.”
“Oh.” Murphy went still and silent, like a statue, frozen on her lap.
“You okay? Is it the collar-” Raven began to panic.
“I'm fine,” Murphy breathed. He pushed himself up and sat in front of her. Murphy's voice was quiet, scared, when he asked, “Can I kiss you, then?”
He was terrified he was reading into her words too much, reading them wrong, and any second she was going to order him to go away and he wasn't sure how that would even work because he couldn't stay away. But he would. If she told him to.
Raven let out a chuckle, relived nothing was wrong, and nodded, smiling. “Yeah.”
Murphy let out the breath that had caught in his throat, the feeling of being choked fading as he registered her answer. “You're sure?”
“Do I have to order you to do it?” she teased.
“I'd really prefer you didn't.”
“Never,” she promised.
“I wouldn't say 'never.' When this thing's gone you can give me all the orders you want,” Murphy joked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Raven scoffed and rolled her eyes.
Murphy just smiled to himself and took her cheek in his hand, pulling her towards him and pressing his lips against hers, catching her by surprise.
Raven relaxed into it, taking a second to savor the feeling.
All those nights staying up with Murphy bitching about everything, saying whatever popped into her head and him never judging her for it.
How he'd gotten so good at anticipating what she needed that whenever she looked up to tell him to get her something – a knife, hammer, water – he already had it waiting for her without her needing to ask.
How he had completely given up trying to help her get around after the third time she'd shoved him away and he fell into a routine of giving her hell for bumping into things, always teasing, though, never malicious. He didn't treat her like she was fragile, not even once. He probably knew she'd kick his ass if he did.
It had all led up to this. To her falling into him, kissing him furiously and him giving back as good as she gave, neither one worried about hurting the other, neither one gentle or delicate. Rough and hard, too sharp for anyone else, but neither afraid of the other, nor would they ever long for softer edges and gentle touches. They were the perfect match.
When they finally broke apart, panting as they stared at each other, pupils dilated and lips parted, she said, “I'll be more careful about giving you orders.”
“It's not your fault. Besides, Bellamy'll be back soon and you can fix me up,” Murphy shrugged, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trace her neck before resting his hand against it.
She smiled at him softly, “I will. I promise.”
“Then you can finally get a break from me.”
“I'm getting used to you, actually. Don't get me wrong, it'll be nice not to be joined at the hip, but I wouldn't mind you sticking around.”
“Do you really want me around?”
“If you don't at least come back to visit I will hunt you down.”
“I'll be back.”
“Daily,” she insisted, knowing the collar couldn't enforce it. He would have to be able to leave her side for it to be an order.
“Daily,” Murphy promised, kissing the side of her mouth. Nothing could keep him away. He wasn't alone anymore, and he couldn't have hoped for a better person for his partner.
“Good.”
Murphy shook his head with silent laughter and looked at her with a genuine smile. “Thanks. For everything.”
“Anytime, Murph,” Raven promised, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. “But maybe pick something a little less kinky next time.”
“Oh, imagine how much fun this could have been,” Murphy mused. “Oh, well. There's always next time.”
“Next time had better not involve me having to hold your hand every time you have to go to the bathroom,” Raven warned.
“Definitely not. Maybe something more useful. Like fuzzy handcuffs.”
Raven tipped her head back and laughed. The whole experience had caught her by surprise. It wasn't the outcome she'd expected, but it was a good one. Murphy wasn't so bad. He just hid a lot of himself from the world, and she couldn't judge him for that, not when she did the same. She didn't have to hide in front of him, though. Even when they'd hated each other she hadn't had to hide.
There was no promise of a happy ending, but it was a happy right here and now, and that was as much as she could ask for.