The Cure

A scream shattered the morning.

Bellamy burst into my tent before I was fully awake.

"Kate, it's Murphy."

I ran.

The dropship was crowded, people pressed in around him.

"Move!" I shouted, forcing my way through.

Murphy writhed, sweat slick on his skin, the bandage soaked dark red.

"Boiled water—now!" I tore away the cloth.

He grabbed my wrist, eyes wide, unfocused.

"John," I whispered, stroking his forehead, "you're fine. You hear me? You're fine."

He screamed again, the sound clawing through the metal walls.

"Bellamy, get Clarke!"

He sprinted out, came back alone.

"She's gone. Finn and Wells too."

"Then they're already out there." I took the kettle someone shoved into my hands.

Steam burned my fingers as I poured it over the wound.

"We have to cut it out," I said quietly.

Bellamy's eyes widened. "Kate—"

"It's the only way."

I held Murphy's knife in the flames until it glowed.

Then I looked at Bellamy. "Keep him awake."

"How?"

"Talk to him. Anything."

"About what?"

"Just talk!"

Monty appeared in the doorway.

"Watch for Clarke! The second she's back, we need that antidote!"

He nodded and ran.

Then I pressed the blade to Murphy's leg.

His scream echoed through camp.

Octavia ran for more water.

I worked until the blackened tissue was gone, until the bleeding slowed.

When it was over, I wrapped the leg and finally let myself breathe.

"Get him food," I said hoarsely. Bellamy left.

Murphy opened his eyes again, dazed but alive.

"You saved my life," he murmured.

"Not yet," I said. "We still need Clarke's cure."

He smiled faintly. "You're trying. That's enough for me."

"Don't get used to it." I smirked.

He laughed once, weak but real.

"Guess you're stuck with me."

"For now," I said, handing him a cup of water.

"Drink. Sleep. I'll stay here."

"Appreciate it," he muttered, and his eyes closed.

Bellamy returned with food. "Quiet out there," he said. "Too quiet."

"Keep watch," I told him. "When Clarke comes back, send her straight here."

He nodded. "Will do."

I sat beside Murphy until the fire outside died down and exhaustion won.

Sometime later, footsteps thundered through the clearing.

Clarke's voice. "We found him! We found Jasper!"

I stumbled out as she and Finn carried Jasper, broken and bleeding.

"You got him back," I said, stunned. Then I saw what they'd done to him. "What did they do?"

"Tortured him," Clarke said. "I need your help."

"Murphy first," I said. "The poison."

She nodded, pulling a red plant from her bag.

She crushed it, mixed it with water.

"Can you do it?" I asked.

"Yes." She dabbed the mixture on Murphy's wound.

He screamed, the smell of burning flesh filling the air.

Then... silence. The swelling began to fade.

Clarke looked up, breathless. "It's working."

I smiled — a rare, small one. "Thank you. Tell me what to do."

"Keep it clean. Fresh water, new bandage. He'll live."

I nodded, watching her go, then turned back to Murphy.

His eyes fluttered open.

"Good to see the light back in you," I said, cleaning the wound again.

"Good to be alive," he rasped, trying to smile.

I handed him a carved wooden staff. "You'll need this for a few days."

He looked at the mark burned into the side — J.M.

"It matches your knife," I said softly.

He stared at it for a long moment. "Kate... I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," I told him. "Just... do your job."

He laughed quietly, stood, testing his weight.

"You're impossible."

"And you're late for work," I said, pushing him toward the door.

He hobbled out into the light, still smiling.