5 - FRIENDS

[ FRIENDS ]

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   "It's been days. I can't believe they won't let me go. What if he's—"

   "He's fine, Sayah. I'm sure of it." Murphy reassures her. "From what I've seen, he can handle himself."

   Sayah smiles a little at Murphy's words. He was good at keeping her hopes up that's for sure.

   "Plus, I don't think Bellamy or Clarke have the guts to do anything terrible — especially with Finn there." He snorts.

   There he is. Sayah thinks. Her eyes widen when she remembers. "Oh, that reminds me. I've got something for you." She starts to unbutton her jacket.

   Murphy suddenly sits up straighter. "Woah— Okay." A small smirk forms on his face.

   Sayah rolls her eyes. "You are disgusting." She pulls out something wrapped in some sort of cloth out of her jacket. She approaches him, crouching down to place it between them. She takes a seat across from him on the hard gravel.

   Murphy raises his eyebrows and unwraps the cloth. "No way." He mumbles, grabbing it quickly. In the cloth was food.

   "Stole some extra for you, you're lucky they know not to ask what's hiding in my jacket." She jokes.

   He chuckles a bit, and stuffs his mouth immediately. "Fanks." He says, a mouthful of food muffling his words a little.

   Sayah nods. "I'd get you some water but they might ask questions then. I'm confused as to why they don't give prisoners food."

   "Sayah," He swallows his mouthful before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "We're prisoners. I think they don't care whether we starve or not."

   "Well, I care." Sayah argues.

   "Not for all of them. Only me." He winks.

   "Just eat." Sayah demands, feeling her cheeks go hot. She hated to admit it, but she enjoyed hanging out with Murphy. She enjoyed talking to him and she enjoyed when he would make her laugh and—

   "Thank you," Murphy tells her as he finishes eating. "I know it might've been difficult."

   "It wasn't really. They don't really pay any atte—"

   "That's not what I meant." He interrupts her, his voice turning serious. "I know how you feel about us. And how you should feel about us. You said your people already question you, and I know you doing all of this, it—well—it doesn't exactly help change their minds."

   It had been the first time either of them had actually spoken up aloud about what they knew they were both risking. They could ignore it all they wanted before but it was too late now. Too obvious.

   "Of course, Murphy." She replies softly.  Sayah was starting to think that maybe she wasn't just his guard. Prisoners don't tell their guards deep secrets about their lives. And guards don't hold their prisoners in their arms to make sure they don't they crumble beneath their fingertips. He was right. It didn't change her people's minds about her, that she was weak, and couldn't do what needed to be done.

   But then she realises something. If she did all this, without hesitation, knowing the consequences, then she really doesn't care about what her people think. Sayah feels a weight be lifted off her chest.

   She was just mildly confused on why she did it. She'd do these type of things for an ally, a. . . friend.

   "Are we. . ." She begins. Murphy turns his head to look up at her. "Doesn't matter, it's probably stupid."

   "No, tell me." Murphy encourages, nudging his fingers against her leg. Sayah nearly flinches at the feeling that runs through her at the contact. She wonders if he knew he had done that. Her mouth goes dry and for a moment she forgets what she was going to say. Why was she acting like this? It's not like he had never touched her before; he had held her only a few days ago. She blurts out her words without thinking about the consequences.

   "Are we friends?"

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   Murphy was beginning to think he'd gone too far. He stared at his hand, wondering when on Earth he decided to think, Hey, why don't you just nudge her on the leg? That won't hurt.

   He wanted to slap himself. She probably thought it was so weird. But, she didn't move away, so maybe that was a good sign. But maybe she felt like she couldn't, to not hurt his feelings. Maybe she was planning her next move, to stab him or something.

   Maybe she wanted to leave the cave so fast because he had done the worst thing possible. And maybe she would yell at him and say 'I'm never stealing food for you again!' while throwing it in his face and he'd eventually starve in the cave. In the cave where she'd put him in the first place. In the cave where she's sitting next to him and staring at him with those gorgeous eyes of hers and—

   "Are you even listening to me, Murphy?"

   "Huh?"

   "Did. . . Did I say something bad? Should I have not asked that? I get it, I do. I just feel like—" She mumbles out words too quickly for Murphy to keep up.

   "Sayah."

   "Yeah?"

   "I. . . wasn't listening, I'm sorry. What did you say again?" Murphy hopes she doesn't blow up at him.

   Her face turns to one of worry to nervousness. "You. . . didn't hear what I asked?"

   "No, sorry. I was just. . . thinking about the food." In my face. From you throwing it at me out of anger. Because I touched your leg. Murphy adds internally.

   "Oh." She says. "I asked if we were. . . friends." She adds the last word hesitantly.

   Murphy's eyes widen a bit. "Oh." He hadn't had many friends. No one at the dropship was his friend. Not even Bellamy. He was just Bellamy's little puppy. Not his friend. No one had asked him how he was doing or asked him for relationship advice or even advice in general. No one had told him they appreciate him. No one had gone 'Hey, John! What's up?'

   No one had told him that he was innocent and didn't deserve what he got. No one had stolen food for him. No one had held him while he remembered the reason his father died. Only Sayah.

   Is that what they were? Is that what he would throw his (useless) plan to the ground for? To have a real friend? He could hear the John Murphy that chanted in that rain so long ago laugh at him inside. You're not just young and naive, you're pathetic!

   "Do you. . . want to be friends?" Murphy responds, his eyes meeting hers. Why would she? Sayah furrows her brows.

   "I haven't really, had. . . many friends." She admits and Murphy never knew how comforted a simple sentence could make him feel.

   "Me either." Murphy replies softly. "But if I wanted anyone to be my friend, I'd want you." He adds, truthfully. And maybe he was pathetic, and naive, and maybe the sentence even made him feel a tad younger, innocent, and maybe he didn't care. Because lately he hadn't been caring about a lot of things.

   "Do you mean that?"

   "Yeah." Murphy nods. "Yeah, I do." He noticed that Sayah made him want to be a bit better. Not just for her, but for himself too. He hadn't wanted that in a long time.

   "Me too." Sayah nods, a small smile forming. Murphy admitted to himself that he was happy to see it return on her face. And that he really liked that it was there because of him.

He likes the feeling it gives him. But he wouldn't admit that.

   "Cool." Murphy says quietly, a small smile matching hers forming. Sayah's brows knit together a little at the word, but her smile doesn't leave.

   "Cool." She repeats just as quietly.

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   "I don't know why I haven't done this sooner." Sayah mumbles as she unlocks the chains around Murphy's wrists.

   "Probably because it's against your orders." Murphy replies, rubbing his wrists. "God forbid, you going against orders—"

   "Quiet. Being your friend is against orders and I did that anyway." She snorts. Murphy mumbles something under his breath.

   "What was that?" She raises an eyebrow.

   "What was what?"

   "Don't act oblivious." Sayah narrows her eyes.

   "I simply said, my wrists hurt." Murphy tells her. Sayah can tell he's lying; when he lies he presses his thumbnail into his index finger. Sayah would never admit she knows that.

   "Would you like some water or I can get you some stuff from the healers—"

   "No," Murphy glances around. "No thank you, you've done enough."

Sayah was unsure of how her and Murphy worked exactly. She watches him examine his wrists with his brows furrowed. They had mutually agreed not long ago that they were friends. But Sayah couldn't help but question, were they friends. . . or allies?

She thought it was silly. Questioning their friendship when she was sure what she wanted. She wanted to be friends with Murphy. Even though she had no doubt in her mind that it was wrong, and that she was betraying her our people by even thinking about him in a way which was not. . . well, right. She didn't care though which confused her.

She wanted to be his friend. She wanted him to make jokes with her and laugh and smile with her and tell her everything's alright when she feels like everything isn't at all. She wanted to make him feel safe and she wanted to be the reason he smiles and the reason he didn't think of himself the way she knew he did when he was alone.

Sayah hadn't really had many friends, but if that was what friends did, she was sure that's what she wanted.

Even if it was wrong.

   Sayah doesn't realise how much she's staring until his head turns to her. Something catches her eye however. She steps closer towards him, noticing a mark on his jaw. "What is that?" She whispers. She slowly places a hand below his chin, lifting up his head.

   "It's nothing—" Murphy argues.

   "Murphy." Sayah says sternly. Murphy purses his lips and swallows hard. Sayah ignores the way his adam apple bobs. Seeming as he hasn't moved, she assumes he's not bothered by her touching him so she grabs his chin gently and turns his head to her left slightly to get a better look.

   Around his chin is a rough, red hand mark. The hand must've been holding his chin similar to the way Sayah holds it now. But much, more harshly.

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   "Who did this?" Sayah's voice is gentle but the way she frowns gives her away; she's concerned. Murphy doesn't understand why. Why was she concerned about a stupid mark on his face?

   "It's nothing. . ." His voice is shaky. He doesn't know how to act with her this close to him. Even with her soft fingers on his skin, he feels like his whole body is on fire.

   "It's not nothing, Murphy." Her grip looses a little and Murphy lowers his head so they're both looking straight at each other. Murphy is mad he didn't notice before how much more pretty her eyes looked up close.

He wanted to push her away. Wanted to get that stupid nagging feeling out of his chest that always forms when she's around. Stupid. . . ugh butterflies. Murphy nearly vomits at the thought of childish 'butterflies' in his stomach.

With all the 'friends' he had, he never felt like this with any of them them. It confused him a little, but he wasn't that stupid. He knew what it may have meant.

He just didn't want to admit it. And he didn't have to. That, and he couldn't exactly do it. They were supposed to be enemies. Being friends crossed one line. . . being anything more. . . Murphy wouldn't know what to do.

   God, being young and naive really messes with your head.

   Sayah's hand still holds his chin and Murphy waits for her hand to drop so his body will go cold again, but it doesn't.

   Not after three seconds.

   Not even after five.

   Ten seconds pass and Murphy can't handle it.

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   "Who did this?" Sayah questions once more. Murphy seems frozen. Sayah's gaze travels up from her hand to the mark on his chin to his lips—

   Sayah realises her hand was still holding his chin and she looks around quickly before dropping it to her side. She tries to control her breathing. What was she thinking? She clears her throat.

   "Who did it, Murphy?"

   "I'm fine—" He begins but Sayah isn't having it.

   "Murphy. Tell me who did that to you."

   Murphy sighs, admitting defeat. "I don't know their names, okay—"

   "'Their'?" Sayah repeats. "There was more than one person?"

   "Sayah, this is why I didn't want to tell you—"

   "What did they look like, Murphy?"

   "I don't know." He shrugs uneasily. "They were big men, one was bald, the other had a tattoo on his neck. . ."

   Sayah clenches her jaw. She knew exactly who he was talking about. "What did they want?"

   "I really don't think this is—"

   "Tell me."

   "Alright," He raises his hands in surrender. "They just came in here, said something about you; I heard your name," He pauses, gritting his teeth together.

   "And then what?" Sayah presses.

   "The bald one grabbed me by the chin, told me to stay away from you, mentioned that. . ." Murphy shifts uncomfortably. "That I was 'a disgusting Sky Person' and then the neck tattoo guy spat in my face."

   Sayah knits her brows in concern. "I'm sorry. I'll handle it when I get the chance."

   "It's nothing new," He sighs as he takes a seat on the ground. Sayah crouches down and hesitantly grabs his hand in hers. She hated the way he would take whatever bad things happened to him like he deserved it. What he did deserve was to be protected. His head snaps up the second she touches him. She ignores how his hand in hers feels.

   "Doesn't mean you deserve it, Murphy."

   Murphy is silent for a moment as they both stare at eachother. Then he looks down at their hands and gives Sayah's a light squeeze.

   "I—" He opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by footsteps. Murphy pulls his hand away quickly and Sayah ignores the tightness in her chest at the action. She stands up quickly, facing the entrance.

   The visitor lets out a small sigh at the sight of Sayah as they turn around the corner. Sayah lets out a sigh of relief as well. "Lincoln," She breathes out before running into his arms. He wraps his arms around her in return.

   "Are you okay?" Sayah questions as she pulls away. "I woke up and you were gone. They wouldn't let any scouts go out and look for you, I—"

   "I'm okay." Lincoln reassures her. "I am. The healers cleaned me up. I escaped," He glances towards Murphy for a split second. "With some help." He adds, looking down.

   Sayah notices he mumbles the last part and seems uneasy about it. But it didn't seem like the bad type of uneasy. Sayah wonders what could have made her brother so unsettled.

   "Are you alright?" Lincoln questions, scanning her.

   "I'm fine," Sayah breathes. "I'm just glad you're okay." She hugs him once more.

   "Hey, you think you could chain me up again, so in case anyone actually bad comes in, they won't get the wrong idea?"

   Sayah rolls her eyes at Murphy's antics — as per usual — as she pulls away from Lincoln's embrace. Part of her wishes that she could hold Murphy's hand again without any interruptions. But she couldn't now. The moment was over.

   Grabbing the key and approaching him, she mumbles teasingly, "So demanding." He only smirks.

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   "If you are always this slow, John Murphy, I will make sure to never do this again." Sayah says to Murphy as he follows her as quickly as he can through the woods.

   "If we get caught, Sayah—" He begins but Sayah interrupts him.

   "We won't. I'm the guard in charge of you, no one else is going to notice you're gone. No one will even visit that cave. Plus, we're nearly there. Just trust me." She turns back to him for a moment and gives him a smile.

   Trust. Murphy thinks. Trust. He realises that he does trust her. He has trusted her for longer than he'd known. He had trusted her with his secret about his parents — Hell, Murphy trusts this girl with his life. And he wasn't even mad about it.

   He trusts her more than anyone at the moment. He didn't regret it. He'd be young and naive for a little longer.

"Come on," She urges. "We're close." Murphy wonders where they were going now as he only sees a fallen log in their path that stretches over a small river. He watches as Sayah suddenly climbs onto the fallen log before balancing on it.

"Sayah, be careful." Murphy takes a step forward, ready to catch her if need be. She only smirks and leaves him standing alone as she tip-toes across it — as delicately as one of those dancers Murphy couldn't be bothered to remember the name of — and then she reaches the end of the log on the other side of the river. Nothing looks interesting over there, Murphy realises, as all there is just one giant boulder that sits against a large rock wall.

Murphy raises an eyebrow. "This is it?"

Sayah scoffs from the distance. "No, watch this." As soon as the words leave her mouth, Murphy realises the rock wall wasn't a rock wall. It was a ledge. Sayah, using the giant boulder to her height advantage, lifts herself up onto the ledge — what Murphy had mistakenly thought was just the top of the 'rock wall'. Once Sayah sighs, stands up and faces Murphy, she opens her arms and says, "Pretty cool, huh?"

Murphy smiles, letting out a soft chuckle. Cute. He thinks to himself.

"Well, come on." She urges him. "If I can do it, so can you." Murphy takes a deep breath before climbing onto the fallen log and doing the same as she did — not as delicately though.

He reaches the other side, climbing and standing on too of the giant boulder. The ledge is just a little higher than his head. His heart pumps in his chest rapidly. He realises he only seems to remember he has one when he's with Sayah.

If he ever goes back to camp, he should probably get that checked out by Clarke.

"Do you need help?" Sayah questions him, referring to getting up onto the ledge. He wants to tell her no, that he's a big boy and can do it himself.

But he can't. His muscles haven't moved this much in days and they're not used to it. He wouldn't be able to lift himself up without help. Murphy sighs, "Yes please."

Sayah doesn't laugh at him or even chuckle, which he is grateful for, she just bends down and grabs one of his hands. She pulls him up as he lifts himself up with his free hand, hoping that'll relieve her from doing it all herself. Murphy does eventually get up onto the ledge and sighs, lying down on his back with his feet hanging over the edge. He closes his eyes. There's must be more because suddenly he feels a finger tap him on the side.

"What is it, Sayah?" He questions, cracking one eye open. But she isn't there. He sits up, eyes searching around in the dark. She's not on the ledge. He stands up quickly, eyes widening. "Sayah? Sayah, where are you?"

Small giggles swallow the dangerous silence and Murphy lets out a sigh of relief. "Where are you?" He asks, not being able to see her anywhere.

"Look here," Her voice tells him and he does. Its only vines. He furrows his brows. Then there she is — she pulls the vines apart like a curtain to reveal another entrance. Murphy feels something strange and childish tug at him inside.

"No way," Murphy breathes.

"All that," She gestures to the log. "Was just part of the journey. This is what I really wanted to show you." She grabs his wrist and pulls him in. He lets her guide him, past the vines and it's another ledge on the other side. But much better.

The ledge is high, higher than most of the trees and overlooks most of the forest. Murphy sees a small glow of light in the distance. "Is that. . ."

"Your camp?" Sayah questions. "Yes."

"You can see everything from up here." Murphy states. Sayah nods and takes a seat on the ledge. Murphy follows her actions, sitting beside her and letting his feet dangle over the edge.

"That's not even the best part, John Murphy." She points up and Murphy follows her finger. His eyes widen. Stars. So many stars. They shine and glimmer and sparkle and Murphy can't believe how many there were.

"I lived in space all my life," He says. "But this. . ." He doesn't finish. Sayah only smiles at his amazement and turns back to look at the night sky.

   He moves his gaze over to her, noticing how some of the night sky reflects in her eyes. Murphy glances down slowly, noticing her hand placed between them. He swallows hard and looks away before grabbing it, feeling her head turn to look at him in surprise. He doesn't look at her back, deciding to rather look at the stars and hide his embarrassment.

He didn't know what he was doing, but he didn't really care. It felt right.

   Sayah doesn't pull her hand away, only holds his back and intertwines their fingers. Murphy mentally fist pumps. Then that feeling comes back. Those damn butterflies.

   Murphy promised himself when he was younger that if he ever felt those silly butterflies in his stomach, he would physically heave in order to get them out. Obviously, now he knows it's just a figure of speech but, nonetheless, he guesses he'll let the butterflies slide on this one occasion.

   With a warning of course.

He couldn't really blame them for being there, he supposes, especially when the moon's glow is reflecting off Sayah's face in the most perfect way.

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Sayah admits she likes the feeling of Murphy's hand in her own. Murphy is the first person she's ever brought here. Not even Lincoln knows about this place.

   Sayah realises that deep down, if she could be in this moment and do it all over again, she wouldn't choose anyone else to be with her. She'd choose Murphy every time.

   Especially if it gives him that glow of happiness that's so easy to see. And Sayah realises, this was him. This was John Murphy without the facade.

She wants to laugh. It's funny, how she's grown awfully attached to her prisoner. But he's not her prisoner. Not her enemy. He's just John Murphy to her. Sayah wishes she could have moments like this forever. So, she'll hold onto this moment forever. Sayah forgets about the war and about orders; she doesn't care. She doesn't care about any of it.

   All she can think about in that moment is her holding John Murphy's hand beneath the blanket of stars. Sayah glances at Murphy, who is already looking at her.

   "What is it?" He questions.

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   Sayah takes a long moment to reply. Murphy begins to worry. He knits his brows. Did he do something wrong? Was it the hand thing? Oh god, was his palm getting sweaty?

   "Thank you." Sayah ends up saying.

   "What for?"

   "All of this. Everything." She replies, a wide grin forming on her face. Murphy nods, smiling in return as she looks away and back at the stars.

   Murphy knows there's more meaning to what she said. But he didn't dare ask in risk of ruining the moment. Maybe she enjoyed being young and naive too.

   He wishes for this to never end if it means she'll do that smile he loves to see so much.

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a/n

when life gives you lemons. . . hold murphy's handand reassure him he's not a burden <3

idk where that came from.

^ murphy after he nudged sayah's leg

^ us when murphy grabbed her hand( we are so proud, murph )