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Jasper got back to camp to cheering and applause. More of the same.
People had been praising him non-stop since he'd killed those Grounders in the trees at the bridge. Then Murphy had been dragged into camp sick, infected most of them, and Jasper had had to blow up the bridge to stop a massacre.
He couldn't have done it without Monty's unfailing dedication to him, even when Jasper had been shitty to him. If it weren't for Monty, they would all be dead. But somehow Jasper knew Monty could tolerate Jasper's shittiness better than he could Jasper dragging him to the center of camp to announce to everyone that it was really Monty who saved the day, not Jasper, making Monty the next "big deal" in camp.
So, instead, Jasper pulled Monty back to their tent. Their tent. If Monty would take him back, that was. Once they were alone, he apologized so many times that Monty called him an idiot, which... felt accurate.
Then Jasper managed to excuse himself, because he wanted to check on Bellamy. He hadn't seen Bellamy when he came back into camp, and he couldn't contain the dread in his chest that Bellamy might not be okay after Jasper had left him collapsed on the ground. After Bellamy had told Jasper to leave him, and Jasper had to bark orders at some other kids to take Bellamy to the dropship.
Jasper ducked into the dropship and let his eyes adjust to the lower light. Connor was clearly passed out on the floor near the wall, and Raven was asleep in a hammock. Jasper was surprised that neither Finn or Clarke was with Raven, though he supposed they had made her comfortable and let her rest. In fact, there weren't many people left in the dropship anymore. Bellamy definitely wasn't here anymore.
Jasper started to leave when he heard movement from one side of the room, and he jerked his gaze over to see what caused it. When his eyes landed on John Murphy, he froze.
Murphy lifted his head, his face covered in dried blood, especially around his eyes, and held Jasper's gaze.
To say Jasper had mixed feelings about Murphy was an understatement. Jasper was well aware that Murphy had tried to kill him. But Murphy had also saved him once too. On their first day on the ground, when Jasper's legs had still felt shaky under him, he'd tried to flirt with Clarke. Wells Jaha had grabbed him and roughly shoved him back for the crime of flirting, and it had been Murphy that stepped in.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey… Hands off of him. He's with us."
Jasper knew, logically, that when Murphy fought Wells that day, it hadn't been for him. Murphy fought Wells because he hated Jaha. But it hadn't stopped Jasper from feeling a little safer that day.
It quickly became obvious, once Jasper was recovered from infection, that Murphy was dangerous, but then Jasper had also overheard other kids at camp making fun of Murphy for not even spelling the word "die" correctly when he'd graffitied the dropship, which left Jasper wondering about how Murphy had grown up. Did his parents not care enough to make sure he paid enough attention in classes to get the most basic education? Did he even have parents?
Murphy was very clearly not stupid, but Jasper had so many questions he knew he'd probably never ask.
All in all, in spite of Murphy having tried to kill him, Jasper didn't find himself as bothered as he probably should have been. He was more fascinated with Murphy, when he knew he absolutely should not be.
And here Murphy was again. One leg was stretched out in front of him, and the other knee was up by his chest, his arm draped over it. He was just watching Jasper.
Jasper should say something. He should tell Murphy that he should have left camp the minute he'd started feeling better. That's what Bellamy would probably want anyway. After a few moments of holding Murphy's gaze, Jasper drew a breath and opened his mouth to speak, only to be immediately cut off by Murphy.
"Funny thing," he said. "When people think they're going to die, they'll talk to anyone. Even people they hate."
Jasper blinked at him for a moment, not understanding. "What does that mean?"
Murphy tilted his head, those deep-set eyes piercing, even through the smudges of blood. "I've heard more about Jasper Jordan today than I think I ever have. Apparently, some people want to tell war stories on their deathbeds, even if they aren't the star."
"Oh," Jasper said, raking his hand through his hair uncomfortably and dropping Murphy's gaze. He'd let himself enjoy being treated like a hero for a couple of days, but he'd let it go too far. He wound up hurting his best friend and then almost wound up with the deaths of all his friends on his hands, had Monty not shown up at the last minute to help him in spite of being hurt.
God, Jasper had already apologized until Monty called him an idiot. Maybe he needed to keep apologizing until Monty called him something worse.
Of course that would mean apologizing until the end of time.
"What are you still doing here?" Jasper asked finally, looking back up.
Murphy looked over at Raven, then to Connor's still form. When he looked back at Jasper, there was a funny curl to his lips. "I'm helping."
"You almost got us all killed today," Jasper said, and Murphy sighed.
"I didn't know," he said, then pushed himself up to his feet and started walking toward Jasper.
Jasper forced himself not to back away. "I don't believe you. You tried to kill me, and I'd never laid a hand on you."
Murphy shrugged, but continued his approach, stopping very close to Jasper. Jasper straightened, noticing for the first time that Murphy was slightly shorter than him.
Murphy held his gaze for a moment before surprising Jasper by lifting a hand to touch Jasper's jaw. Jasper flinched automatically. Murphy's hand was clammy, almost damp, and everything in Jasper told him to pull away, but he didn't.
"You hate me too," Murphy said, but he didn't lower his hand.
Jasper should say yes. If anyone were awake to hear this conversation right now, he would say yes. As far as anyone else in the camp was concerned, Jasper Jordan hated John Murphy, the guy who'd tried to kill him for being too-loudly in pain.
But staring into Murphy's deep blue eyes, with no one around that was listening, Jasper Jordan wanted to know John Murphy, the guy so full of anger that it had to mean he hurt. Deeply.
"I'm… ambivalent," Jasper finally said, and to his surprise, Murphy's lips curled into a hint of a smile.
"Of course you are," he said, then he hooked his fingertips against Jasper's jaw and tugged Jasper down toward him.
Leave. Pull back. Get out of the dropship. You're not safe, his brain said, but Jasper's body didn't obey. His gaze found Murphy's mouth before he let his eyes flutter shut, and then Murphy was kissing him, and he was kissing Murphy back.
Murphy's lips were soft and his tongue sent a shiver down Jasper's spine, but he also tasted of sickness and stale blood. He cupped the back of Jasper's head, deepening the kiss, and when he eventually pulled back, Jasper was a little breathless.
"You taste like death," he panted, then scraped his teeth over his tongue and tried to swallow the awfulness.
Murphy huffed something akin to a laugh and looked away.
Jasper swallowed hard a few times. "Why did you do that?"
Murphy's gaze snapped back to Jasper's. "Why didn't you stop me?" he countered. Jasper opened his mouth to reply, but he couldn't think of a good answer. Murphy pressed his lips together and raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you're not as ambivalent as you think you are. Or think you should be."
Jasper was silent for a long moment, but eventually forced himself to say, "Maybe." He was still trying to slow his breathing. "You really didn't know you were contagious?"
Murphy shook his head once, then looked away again. Jasper was about to ask if Murphy would have returned here anyway if he had known, but Murphy's expression had suddenly gone exhausted. He took a step back and scrubbed a hand over his face, and Jasper's heart lept into his throat when he saw the bloody scabs where Murphy's fingernails should have been.
Without thinking, Jasper grabbed Murphy's wrist to get a closer look. "God, what did they do to--?"
Murphy yanked his hand away. "I need fresh air," he said, voice hoarse. "Can you check on them?" He gestured vaguely behind him. "Connor hasn't moved in a while. Someone should probably force him to drink some water."
Jasper nodded, but Murphy was brushing past him out of the dropship before he could say anything. What the hell had just happened?
Jasper drew a steadying breath and shook himself. He'd process this later. Alone. Right now, people were sick. Possibly dying.
Jasper found a cup and filled it with water. By the time he got to Connor, Connor was already dead.