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When a scream rang out outside of the bunker, Murphy paid no attention to it's shrill tone or close proximity. He just amplified the music that was already blaring in his ears and settled back into the couch, drawing a long swig from his glass. It was just a memory - a memory of his own screams in the torture chamber. It always was. No one could've made it to the promised land, and if they had - they would be dead soon. No doubt.
Murphy settled deeper into the couch, burrowing deeper with each agonizing wail that rose above the music pounding in the small room. It wasn't long before it was paired up with a beating sound, like a drum but more hollow. The door. Someone was pounding the door. Fear sliced through Murphy as memories swept across his vision of a bloody boy waiting for a man in grounder gear to slam open the door. Open the door and announce the arrival of his new hell some roommate.
Murphy sucked down the rest of his liquor in a single, burning gulp. He let out a hiss as he stumbled to his feet, pushing off of the couch as harshly as you can when tipsy on a few cups of hard liquor. The pounding died down as he scrambled up the stairs on all fours, not willing to trust his legs to carry him up without any extra support. His hands shook as he grasped the handle, but it only took him one shuttering breath before he yanked the door wide open.
"COME ON, COME AND GET ME!" Murphy yowled out before his eyes had even adjusted to the light; before he had even taken in the woman hunched before him. As his tear-dusted eyes adjusted to the lighting, he froze. He had expected a large man in grounder gear with a burning sword, not- not her. "Emori?"
The woman stood before him in a shadow of grimy dust and blood streaked pants. Her left shoe was partially gone and he knew it had been the sea monster. Damn thing wasn't as good of a shot as it thought it was. A sickly sad laugh crept out of his throat as he lunged forward, sweeping her into his arms as tears shimmered on his cheeks. He ignored the way she flinched and just clung on tighter, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the sugary scent of her hair.
"You made it." Emori's voice was weak, but he could feel the smile she now pressed against his collar bone. "I hoped you would. I knew you would."
"I'm a survivor." Murphy broke away from her just enough so that he could look down at her with a smile stretching across his face and pinching his cheeks, "Didn't you know? The bad guy and the badass can't die. We're survivors." He dipped his head shyly before glancing back up at her with a sudden look of determination. He lowered his mouth to hers and hovered, waiting for her okay. When she crashed her lips against his in a hungry kiss, he knew it was okay. And maybe, together they would be okay too.