Now Let’s Go Survive
No one could’ve guessed I’d end up here. Not even me. I wasn’t the worst criminal to come down to the Ark by a long shot, nor was I the best fighter once we hit the ground, but I was stubborn and persisten. Like Clarke. Just with better ideas haha. As the dark, scarlet red color dripped on the ground, leaving a scattered trail from the cuts on my body and face, my wrists ached and burned from my restraints and my hair is wet and sticking to my forehead from sweat. The sun beat down on me hotter than I ever thought possible from the Ark, and the two grounders pulling on the ties of my hands, continued to yank on the connected chain as they spoke in hushed voices. My feet, heavy like bricks, trudged through mounds of sand as waves of wind would push through, kicking up heaps of sand into my already dry and bruised face.
‘Why did I have to follow him here?’
Even as the thought crossed my mind, I felt no sense of regret or shame for what I’ve done. The only thing I regretted was not taking more training lessons, per Bellamy’s orders, when we were living back at the drop ship. Then maybe I wouldn’t have been beaten so badly by a grounder trying to steal my things in my expeditions across the desert. Suddenly the rope on my chain that had been pulled taut relentlessly during the last few… hours? How long had I been walking? It felt like an eternity that finally seemed to end as the rope grew slack and my restrainers stood still, peering around a corner. I couldn’t force myself to stand any longer as my wobbly legs gave way below me, and my head collided with the sturdy, albeit soft, sand I had been mentally cursing not long ago.
“Keep an eye on her. I’ll get them.” One of the voices, a female, spoke.
The restraints around my hands were pulled at once more, my arms coming off the ground lazily, but my body persisted in its attempt to alleviate the stress I’d put it through.
“Get up!” The male grounder whisper yelled at me.
With a hoarse groan, and the need to suppress a dry, throat aching cough, I got to my knees, breathing becoming harder as my vision faded in and out.
‘So much for surviving together.’ At this point I didn’t even think I’d survive alone much longer.
“Put all your belongings on the ground now.” The familiar voice of my female captor echoed in my ears, though she sounded as if she were miles away.
My body jerked forward against my will as my body was dragged across the coarse sand and from behind the structure we had sought cover at. I could tell I was being restrained as my arms were placed at an awkward uplifted position, though the majority of my body clung to the ground, my torso drifting and swinging slightly as my body became limp. My hands were now tied to the cart my captors kept.
“(Y/n)…” a whisper of a voice spoke.
“Otan, get their things. I’ve got her.” My hearing picked up a bit as the rest of my senses dulled in comparison.
“If you want us to agree, you let her go!” A slightly unfamiliar deep voice came across as nothing more than a mumble to my dying figure. I can imagine it’s a combination of exhaustion, heat stroke, and blood loss, having tried to fight my way out at least three times earlier in the sandy desert.
“(Y/n)! Are you alive? Come on, answer me!” A gruff and raspy voice called out to me, but I could do nothing to respond as the cart shook, probably from whatever items they had added to it.
“(Y/n)! Emori. Come on we did what you said! Let her go!”
This time the voice sounded closer, as if getting louder with each phrase. Silence filled the air as waves of heat continued to rush over my body. I felt my arms wiggle and the sound of a blade against my restraints. I fell to the ground with a soft thud, my mind too tired to process the pain reaching each end of my body, however, that didn’t stop me from coughing up a small puddle of blood from the impact. I heard the rickety sound of the cart being pulled away, and suddenly the sun didn’t feel so hot. The overbearing, heat producing star that had forced me to keep my eyes closed majority of the day, was now covered by something, or rather someone. I groaned in agony as my eyes drifted open slightly, trying to focus.
“(Y/n) you’re gonna be alright. I’m right here. What’re you even doing out here dammit?!”
As my eyes finally opened and my vision cleared of the blurry spots, I saw the silhouette of someone I thought I’d never see again.
My cracked and dried lips curled into a slight smile at the corners before a wince of pain replaced my smile with a twisted one of agony. I felt like a shell of myself as I was gently brought to rest in Murphy’s lap, feeling my limbs be picked up and placed down as, I assume, someone dressed my still bleeding wounds. Through it all I never let my eyes close as they stared deep into Murphy’s blue eyes. They remind me of an ocean I so desperately wished to wade in. He held a torn piece of fabric in his hand that he used to gently wipe the sand and blood from my face.
“How did you get here? I thought I left you back at the camp?” Murphy’s voice sounded like music to my spinning head as I weakly chuckled.
“You can’t *cough* get rid of me that easily. Staying behinds not *cough* my specialty remember?”
Murphy chuckled softly at my lame attempt to act alright. My own voice didn’t even sound recognizable to myself. Murphy reached into the lining of his jacket, pulling out a canteen and opening it, placing the canteen near my lips. He slowly gave me what little water was left as I tried not to gulp it down as a semblance of my unquenched thirst.
“How did you even get out here?”
Murphy gently sat me up, helping me to my feet and placing his arm around my waist as I wobbled, attempting to collapse once more.
“I’m a tracker. When you weren’t at camp this morning, I noticed Sinclair and the others leaving for the drop ship. I lost you guys as you reached the desert. And well… you know… sand doesn’t do well for tracking.”
Murphy shook his head slightly, his face reading sadness and regret, but his eyes were hopeful and with a new glint. Someone cleared their throat and I turned my attention to see… Jaha?
It felt like a new electricity sparked deep within me as I saw the man who I promised to kill. It was on sight for me to say the least. With my newly found determination, even in my battered state, I tried to lunge forward at Jaha. I didn’t get very close, but I pursued.
“You son of a bitch! I’m gonna kill you!!”
Arms grasped sternly, albeit still cautious of my injuries, around my torso and stopped my advancing.
“(Y/n), calm down! He’s the only reason we’re gonna get out of here. Alive. Together.”
Murphy slowed down his words as if he knew I wasn’t trying to hear anything other than the sound of Jaha’s last breath. Before me, standing so smugly as if thinking about a riddle no one else knows the answer to, is the man who floated my mother and had me sent to the Skybox. Who sent me with the 100 to the ground to die.
“I couldn’t kill you at the camp but there’s no one here to save you now Chancellor!” My words echoed in the far off distance.
Murphy grabbed my bruised face in his dry and calloused hands, forcing me to look him in the eye.
“(Y/n) listen. I know. You know I know. Trust me. We’re on the same side here. But he’s going to get us to the city of light,” Murphy glanced behind me at Jaha, his tone not certain about his latter statement, “We need to keep him alive for now.”
Murphy cut me off, his face sympathetic as I used his first name, a privilege few ever had, “You don’t have to trust him. Just trust me. Like you always have. I’ve gotten us this far right?” He smirked slightly and I smiled again slightly, remembering I came to this death trap desert for him. “You do trust me right?” His voice shook just the slightest bit, as if he was worried my answer would be something different than it always has been.
Maybe it was the sun stroke, or just the need for something other than the pain that intensified with every move, but whatever it was I wasn’t trying to stop. I brought my hands to his chest, gripping the material of his shirt tightly as Murphy looked at me with the cutest face of confusion, and pulled him down to me, our lips connecting in a kiss. We had never shared anything remotely intimate with each other. The closest Murphy and I have ever been is cuddling in his tent in the middle of the night when no one would catch us. That felt like an eternity ago now. I could feel Murphy’s hands tense around my cheeks as our lips moved together before he moved one hand to my waist and the other to the back of my neck. The make out session was enough to make me forget about the scorching heat or what I’ve just been through. This made everything worth it. We separated just far enough for our foreheads to touch.
“I promised I’d find you always.” I whispered the words for only Murphy to hear.
“And you do. Every time. Now let’s go survive. Together.” Music to my sunburnt ears!
His lips half curled into a smirk, though the underlying smile made my heart flutter.
GAAAHH so this was probably trash as can be, but I have been craving John Murphy ever since they put season 7 on Netflix. I have been rewatching before I continue. And I never actually finish a story series (like seriously i’ve started 4-5 stories and never finished one :/ ) so crappy imagines it is :)