YEAR ONE & TWO

[ ON THE RING ]

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YEAR ONE.

It had been a week since they had reached the ring, a week since they had left the now-irradiated planet they once called home, a week since they had left Clarke, a week since Sayah had breathed the real air.

And it was a week, that it had taken Sayah to build up the courage to actually have a serious conversation with John Murphy.

It was late, she knew that, everyone was probably asleep or if not, just in bed. The ring was quiet, except for the constant machine hum that Sayah was worried she'd never get used to. She stood in front of large window that showcased the once beautiful Earth, now covered in a dangerous, toxic orange.

A hiss was heard from the distance, but Sayah didn't turn her head, knowing what the sound of the door opening meant. "Couldn't sleep?" A voice called and it was hard to control her small smile.

"No, not really. You?" She replied, feeling the figure find it's way beside her, arms close to touching. She knew it was him, she had known it even before he spoke.

"Not used to being back on the Ark, I guess." John Murphy hummed, and Sayah turned to look at him. His hair was slightly ruffled—he had been tossing and turning, she assumed—and his eyes were tired, shoulders slumped lazily. He wore a simple dark t-shirt and Sayah silently agreed that yes, he did look good in black.

He turned to her, eyes gentle. "Figured you'd be out here."

"Really?" She hummed, turning back to the look at the front.

"Yeah, well, can't see many stars, but, I guess technically we're with them, right? So, this is as good as it gets." He paused. "Don't you think?"

   "Stuck on a ring with you for five years?" Sayah snorted. "Please, it's my worst nightma—"

   "Lifelong dream?" He cut in, grinning. "I thought so."

   Sayah chuckled lightly, before her gaze fell to the ground. She cleared her throat—she was never good at these things. The serious talking thing. She liked to think she was. . . but then again, they both did. Hell, Murphy probably thought he led the conversation.

Sayah sighed, "I'm sorry for going off in the truck, back when we were on our way to grab Raven. I've just been, I don't know, bottling things up too much, maybe. A lot has happened."

   Nodding, Murphy replied, "It's okay. It was fair. I should've told you—about the Baylis-thing and about the. . . other thing." He exhaled deeply. "I'm sorry too."

   A moment of silence. "Luna's gone."

"I assumed that much." Murphy replied, and Sayah could never get mad at his lack of seriousness at certain times—it was who he was, and she, more than anyone, understood how he acted. "Heard she went off the rails anyway." He remarked. There was a long pause. "I'm sorry."

Sayah shook her head, pursing her lips. "She had always had problems with that. She was brought up a killer, the lifestyle swallowed her whole eventually."

A pause. Sayah felt Murphy step a little closer to her. His eyes were on her, and his brows were furrowed. "Did you love her?" He was genuinely curious.

And the question seemed to hit her harder than she thought, because even though a tear rolled down her cheek, she chuckled, letting a weak smile form. "When we were younger, it was like. . . God, she was like an angel. Perfect. Everything about her was perfect to me."

"I thought it was just. . . just because you know, she was Luna, a Natblida, a possible future Commander. I thought it was that I wanted to be her." She bit her lip. "I never understood it. Never understood why I found her so. . . so incredibly different. So, to answer your question, yes. Once, I think I did."

   She turned to him, meeting his soft eyes. "I always thought she had only seen me as a little sister, which is part of the reason being why I never tried anything. The other part. . . well, I was scared. I didn't know what it meant. Why I saw her the way I did. Obviously, now I know." She smiled lightly. "And I made sure of it."

   Murphy's brows raised, lips quirking up in amusement. "Made sure? How?"

   Sayah laughed, head ducking for a moment. "It's quite a funny story." She looked at him, a wide grin on her face. "Clarke and I. . ." The smile fell slowly and she pursed her lips.

   Murphy's lips parted. "No way. You. . . and Clarke?"

   "It was one kiss." Sayah reassured him, the memory coming back to her. She missed Clarke Griffin. She really missed her.

   "Wow." Murphy chuckled. "You know I had a gut feeling you were into girls." He nudged her gently.

   "Oh yeah? When?" She snorted in disbelief.

   "Around the time we met." He explained. "You know, just the kind of vibes you gave off—I was thinking of asking but well. . . I don't know. I just never did." He went quiet for a moment. "Plus, I saw. . . how you were with Luna."

   "And I saw how you were with Emori." Sayah replied back, not looking at him once.

   He chuckled, "You know you're kind of hot when you're jealous." He leaned in towards her, a smirk on his face.

   Sayah placed a hand on his chest, creating some distance between them. "Watch yourself." She warned. "And I wasn't jealous."

   "I can tell when you're lying too."

   A pause. "Did you really have a gut feeling about me liking girls?" She questioned him, genuinely curious.

   "Well, yeah, I mean, I wanted to know." He shrugged. "I was starting to like you after about a week and—"

   "You had a crush on me even back then?"

   "Yeah, believe it or not. At first, I thought you put some love potion in the food." He scoffed, and Sayah let out a laugh. "Honestly, I couldn't believe it. I—I just. . ." He trailed off, looking back out into space.

   "Liking me was that bad?" Sayah questioned him, a hint of amusement in her tone. "Wow, John Murphy."

   "No, no—you know that's not what I meant." He rushed out, quick to defend himself. "I just never felt anything like that." He cleared his throat, changing the subject. "Besides, you had one first."

   "I thought you were a idiot." Sayah snorted. "A cute idiot but that's all and besides that," She cleared her throat. "I had no romantic feelings towards you whatsoever."

   "I don't believe that. I'm irresistible."

   Sayah shook her head, a smile forming on her face as she turned back to stare out the window. She felt Murphy's arm brush against hers and then stay there, and she couldn't even complain. They were safe, together, with no war looming over them or dark thoughts or worries. She would cherish moments like these, even if they weren't together, she would cherish them because these were the type of moments you simply must remember. The type of moments you learn to be special.

   "Luna's safe now." Murphy suddenly spoke up, an unusual seriousness to his tone, like he was reassuring her. She turned to him, a frown set deep in her features, and it took everything in her not to cup his face and pull him into her. She could never get over him—the way he looked at her, the way he spoke, the way he smiled, the way he laughed, everything. Everything about him she found herself falling for all over again. She wanted to kiss him; she didn't.

   "So are we."

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"Hey," Sayah turned to see Murphy approaching her. It was late, their normal time now, but he seemed different, more tired she supposed. They both took a seat on the blanket that laid safely on the floor, knees knocking for just a moment.

   "Hey." She greeted him back, a little late, a little quiet. He turned to her, brows furrowed, face confused.

   "You okay?"

   "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." She cleared her throat. "Just been a busy day, I guess. Trained with Echo—fun times." She drawled.

   "Really?" Murphy questioned. "How'd that go? You kick her ass?"

   "She's good." Sayah inhaled, nodding. "Really good, we're like. . . equals. I don't know. She's good at predicting my moves before I do them or something."

   "Azgeda spy superpowers," Murphy taunted, nudging her shoulder gently, causing her to laugh. After a moment, a comfortable silence fell over them. Murphy cleared his throat. "So, got any new stories to tell tonight?"

   "Yes, actually." It had become a bit of a normal thing—them two meeting in the middle of the night to sit under the star covered window that overlooked space and their old radiation-soaked planet to simply talk, and listen. They heard each other's stories from their pasts. Secrets. Confessions.

   "Now, I was about eleven, and Lincoln was teaching me how to fish." Sayah began, stealing a glance with Murphy, who watched intently, affectionate eyes clinging onto every word that left her mouth. The stories of her and Lincoln were his favourite—every time she told one, she would seem to relive it right in front of him, and he loved it. She looked so much more alive, and it made her even more beautiful.

   "Oh, this should be good." Murphy snorted, causing Sayah to laugh quietly before shaking her head.

   "Hear me out, hear me out." She waved her hand in front of his face. "Okay, so, Lincoln took me out of the village. . ."

   Murphy couldn't stop staring at her.

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YEAR TWO.

   "Sayah not up yet?" Murphy asked the group, eyes glancing at Monty's algae distastefully. He was met with silence, and furrowing his brows, he tore his eyes away from what was supposed to be his breakfast, and onto Bellamy Blake. The older boy had his arms crossed in front of his chest, jaw tight but eyes so unlike anything Murphy had really seen. Murphy scoffed, "Seriously, what is it? I sleep in for one day and now I'm invisible? What's going on?"

   Bellamy shared a short look with Raven before he was sitting down at the small table, looking at the algae the same way everyone else did. Not quite eagerly. "She hasn't gotten up yet, no. Better to let her stay in bed today. She needs it." The words seemed almost scripted.

   Murphy rose a brow. He didn't believe a word Bellamy Blake said. "Come on, seriously, what is it? There's gotta be something wrong." Sayah hadn't come out to the window lately either. Murphy had been sitting out there alone, waiting for her to arrive, but she never did. And he never asked why. "What, it's that time of month or something—"

   "Can you for once in your life be serious?" Raven suddenly snapped, eyes hard, face contorted in annoyance. "Not everything is a joke, Murphy. And this sure isn't." Her tone was one Murphy was familiar with, so that didn't exactly bother him. It wasn't even what caught his attention.

   "What isn't?" Murphy pressed, eyes shifting between Bellamy and Raven, then around to the group. "Seriously, we're all here, and what is it that everyone wants to hide from me today, huh?" He paused, clenching his jaw. "Is something wrong with her?" Silence. Murphy wished their was some sort of clock in this stupid ring so at least he didn't hear the annoying machine hum.

   Scoffing, he turned to leave, "Fine. I'll see her myself."

   "No, Murphy." Bellamy was using his deep-leader voice, the one Sayah would make fun of. Murphy paused in his step, turning back to face Bellamy, hands gestured out in a way that suggested for Bellamy to share what the hell it was they were all keeping him from knowing.

   Bellamy, pursing his lips, gestured for Murphy to take a seat, so he did, not without sending the boy a strange glance. This was new. "When you. . . left with Jaha," Bellamy began. "You know how Sayah. . . handled it, right?"

   "She didn't." Murphy replied easily. He knew this. She had told him before.

   Bellamy sighed. "She went through these. . . depressive episodes. Most of the time she wouldn't get out of bed, when she did, we had to keep an eye on her. It wasn't like Jasper, she didn't drown herself in booze, she just. . ." He frowned, the memory seeming to resurface. "It's like she wasn't even there. With us."

   Murphy, quiet, frowned in response, listening intently as Bellamy continued. "Lincoln was always good at knowing how to help her, he normally would brush O and I off—he knew her best. I don't exactly know what he did, but he told her and I some things, just in case he wasn't around or something."

   "So, say hypothetically, she's having one of these episodes," Murphy spoke up. "What do you do?"

   Bellamy paused. "I went to see her this morning. She was quiet, didn't speak once, didn't want to get up. Didn't want to eat." He swallowed. "Right now, all she wants is to be alone, so we leave her alone."

   Murphy's brows pulled together in a tight line. "Wouldn't that just make it worse?"

   "We can't make her spend time with us." Raven spoke up, shaking her head. "If she's not motivated—"

   "So, you left her alone?" Murphy questioned, leaning forward in his chair. His gaze switched to Bellamy. "Why don't I see her? Maybe I can talk to her. Get her up."

   "No, you can't do anything." Bellamy denied. "When she got like this, Lincoln would let her rest, check in on her later. Not even he could get her up; a special person won't make it go away, it's not like that—"

   "Lincoln isn't here." Murphy argued sternly. And the room felt strange for a moment. Murphy sighed, shaking his head. "Look, without him, she probably feels worse, okay? So, I should go see her—"

   "Murphy—"

   He stood up, fingers reaching out to push his breakfast away from him further. "I'll tell you how it goes, Bellamy." He remarked before he was walking away, ignoring Raven's huff of annoyance and Bellamy's sigh. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he made his way to Sayah's room.

   He was never good at these things. But it was Sayah. And he knew if roles were reversed, he'd like her to be beside him, talking to him too. Maybe Bellamy was right, maybe Sayah did need space, but he'd wait until she told him that.

   He reached her room faster than he thought, mouth twisting strangely as he stared at the door, waiting. Thinking. He knocked lightly, receiving no answer but machine hum. "Sayah?"

   When he opened the door to her dark room, his heart sunk. He wasn't ready for this. But it was Sayah. His Sayah.

   Her tiny figure was on a small bunk bed, wrapped tightly around some blankets, her head just peeking out. She shared the room alone, and liked to switch between bunks, finding it funny. It always made her smile.

Her back was facing him, and he couldn't tell if she was sleeping or not. Slowly, he approached the bed and took a seat behind her, hand resting lightly on where her arm would rest. She didn't even move.

   "Sayah?" No answer. "Bellamy told me I'd find you in here. Thought you were hiding from me." He chuckled lightly. "I was just about to have some of Monty's algae. Did you wanna come have something to eat?" He tapped a finger against her arm once. Her eyes opened, slowly, weakly, like they were some sort of heavy tools.

   Silence, and the constant machine hum. Murphy tapped again. "I understand the lack of appeal." He hummed. "Monty's algae is the worst thing about this ring. Besides, the fact that—"

   "Please go away, John." It was so croaky and rough but just as painful to him as a knife deep within his skin.

   "What is it?" He whispered, leaning in a little, rubbing a finger gently across where her arm would rest under the blanket. "Talk to me."

   A pause. Machine hum. "I want you to go away."

   "Sayah—"

   "Please just get out. Leave me alone." The words were more clear this time, and the knife was sharper, digging in deeper. But he could handle a knife wound.

   "I want you to come eat with me, though. Even Bellamy's waiting and—"

   "John." Stern, this time. Her eyes hadn't moved from where they stared straight forward. Murphy was unsure if she had even blinked. "Get out." She moved, shoulder shifting in a way that had his hand brushing off her, leaving it hovering above her arm weakly as she sunk deeper into the blankets.

   He breathed slowly, eyes glancing between the metal wall and her tired figure. Her head disappeared under the blanket. "Just get out. Get out. Please get out." Muffled. "Please. . . please leave me alone." Her voice wasn't even breaking, but it sounded as weak as ever and Murphy wanted to crumble.

   "I'm not leaving you."

   "I'm asking you to!" She snapped, before speaking lower. "I'm telling you. I want to be alone. Just get out."

Murphy peered at the girl, swallowing hard before getting up, tucking the blanket a little higher up her shoulders. "I'll be back in a few." Which was a simple enough message—he wasn't really going anywhere. He wasn't really leaving this time.

   She didn't reply to that, and he pursed his lips, making his way to the door and exiting her room. As soon as the door closed, he turned and was met with a frowning Bellamy. "Hear all that? Enjoy the show?" Murphy drawled.

   "I told you she didn't want to see anyone." Bellamy shook his head. "We have to give her space."

   "Yeah, and what if it gets worse, huh?" Murphy snapped, stepping a little closer towards the older boy, finger pointing at the door. "She shouldn't be alone."

   "That's what she wants." Bellamy argued back. Murphy scoffed, head falling to the ground like he just got told a stupid joke. "Murphy, listen to me." Bellamy stepped closer. "If you smother her, she'll shut down, isolate herself for even longer." Murphy's eyes drifted to the left, so Bellamy leaned over into his line of sight to capture his attention again. "Just trust me, okay? I've seen it."

   "So, what do you suppose we do, oh-so-wise-one?" Murphy remarked, glaring. "Huh, what is it that you've learnt? Enlighten me."

   Bellamy, ignoring the sarcasm, sighed. "We give her space—not enough that we're not looking out for her—enough to let her have her own time."

   "Right." Murphy hummed, annoyed. "Right, yeah, that sounds like a great idea, boss." He drawled, before speaking seriously again. "How 'bout something that actually helps?"

   "And we take care of her. That's all we do. Get her eating, showering, if she wants to lay back down after that, we let her. Talk to her, tell her how our day's been, just be there." Bellamy nodded. "We just take care of her." A pause. Murphy was beginning to hate the machine hum all over again. "Think you can do that, Murphy?"

   Murphy rolled his eyes. "The lack of confidence in me is misplaced when it comes to her."

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   It was hard.

   It was hard watching the girl he loved drift away slowly, become unreachable; become untouchable. She got up, when Murphy would gently ask her to, and even though she wanted nothing more than to be alone, he would still be around. She'd get up to shower, Murphy would be outside, and she'd leave the door unlocked—Bellamy said he'd asked her to in the past, just in case—then when she was done, she'd come out, hair still damp, soaking slightly into her shirt, eyes distant.

   Murphy despised the lost look in her eyes.

   Every time he'd hear the shower turn off, after a few minutes of silence, he'd gently call out to her, making sure she was okay. Most of the time, she'd answer with a gentle, "I'm fine," and when she didn't, Murphy would call out once more, let her know he was coming in, and would enter, only to find her in a towel staring at herself in the mirror. One particular time stood out more than most.

   "You love me," Murphy didn't know whether it was a question or a reminder to herself. Her arms were gently crossed over her chest, holding her towel up. Murphy could just see the scars on her back. She never spoke about them—he never asked. Battle scars, he assumed. They never bothered him. She was beautiful all the same. They both had scars, and the knowledge of them never bothered one another.

   Sayah's eyes were on herself in the mirror, for just a moment, until they were on his reflection, standing quietly behind her. "You love me." She repeated, more like a question this time. Like she was making sure.

   "Yeah," Murphy nodded, eyes staying on her own in the mirror. He took a step forward, closer, and she looked away. Machine hum soaked up the silence between them, and Murphy wanted to reach out to her. His head lowered, and he rubbed his nose, clearing his throat. "Get dressed, okay? I'll be outside." His words were gentle, and still, she didn't reply, letting him turn around with a twisting stomach.

   "How?"

Murphy paused in his step, head turning to look back over his shoulder slightly. "What do you mean?"

"How can you love me?" She asked and her words were so dull. Murphy clenched his jaw tight, turning to face her properly. "How can you still love me, when I get like. . . this?"

"I'll never love you any less because of this, if that's what you mean. We can all get like this."

"Have you?" She stared at him through the reflection in the mirror again. "Gotten like this?"

Only once they had mentioned it, and even then it was brief. Murphy didn't quite like talking about it. "Yeah," He took a step forward, "Difference is, I was alone. I didn't have anyone to help me."

A pause. Her gaze fell. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Machine hum. "I love you." And her eyes were back on his. "I still do, you know."

He furrowed his brows, feeling like the words weren't meant for him. Like he didn't deserve them. "I know." Not a lie.

"I think about it all the time, Murph." She shook her head, voice cracking. "Us. I think about us. . . all the time." She clarified, inhaling deeply before glancing down, hands tightening their grip on her towel. A sign; she wanted him to leave so she could get dressed.

   He sniffled, facing away from her. "I'll be outside."

She didn't talk much after that. Bellamy went in and saw her one afternoon after that day, and returned claiming that they agreed to take her door away, for safety purposes.

"Do you really think she'll do something?" Monty questioned as they all sat around the table. Murphy leaned against his chair, eyes on his bowl of algae. He ignored the feeling of eyes on him.

   "I hate seeing her like this." Harper muttered, running her finger along the edge of her bowl, uninterested in eating. Monty reached out a placed his hand in hers, squeezing, and Murphy looked away at the sight.

   His eyes landed on Emori, who was staring into her bowl, arms crossed over her chest. It had been at least a year of her being with them all, but Murphy knew that she hadn't yet actually had time to become as close with Sayah as the rest of them had. He understood why she was being so quiet.

   Echo was another story, Murphy figured, glancing over at the ex-Azgeda spy, who looked deep in thought, brows furrowed and hands clasped together on the table. Murphy could never read her or what she was thinking—then again he didn't think he really wanted to.

   "Maybe she'd want to go for a spacewalk or something." Raven suggested, eyes switching between Murphy and Bellamy. Murphy glanced over at her, listening intently. "She's never done it before, right? It might get her mood up."

   "Maybe not yet." Bellamy tapped his fingers on the table, exhaling slowly. He leaned back into his seat, quiet for a moment."Let's just all keep an eye out, okay?" Murphy opened his mouth to speak but Bellamy cut him off. "I'm not saying we need to have full shifts to watch her or something," Bellamy explained, "It's just in case. For now, keeping an eye out is all we can do." He and Murphy kept eye contact for a long second before Bellamy gestured to the spare bowl of algae. "Murphy,"

"Yeah, I got it." He got up out of his seat, grabbing the spare bowl of algae and making his way to her room. He knew the others would be talking about him at the table now that he was gone—either about him or about how Sayah was "affecting him"—but he could care less. Let them talk, he thought, maybe they'll have some decent ideas for once.

   When he reached Sayah's room, he raised a brow, noticing the missing door like Bellamy had mentioned, and instead resorted to knocking on the wall.

"Hope you're hungry," He approached her as she laid in bed, like usual, eyes open and face blank. He took a seat beside her, careful not to actually sit on her, and placed the bowl on the floor. "It's your favourite." He rested a hand on her arm lightly. "You wanna eat?"

"Not exactly." Came a quiet reply.

"Well, that's too bad." Murphy hummed, reaching down to pick up the bowl. "If you don't eat, Bellamy'll kick my ass."

"I wouldn't let him." And then she sat up slowly, tiredly, and held out a hand for the bowl. The words held a small glint of his Sayah, the one who would joke and tease. This was good. This was really good. Murphy grinned, passing it to her gently. He hid his excitement, deciding that he'd jump Bellamy later while the older boy was distracted and tell him the news. Murphy stared at her with something akin to hope as she ate.

"There you go." That's my girl.

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"Hey."

   Sayah hadn't expected anyone to follow her to the window. She had been, well, not exactly avoiding Murphy, but spending some time away from him. Time alone. Sayah honestly just thought he was happy that she was out of bed, even if she was aimlessly roaming the ring.

   She just hadn't expected anyone to try and talk to her. Anyone besides Murphy or Bellamy, that is. And least of all—

   "Emori, if you're here to sit me down and do the same talk that Murphy and Bellamy do, you might as well just leave." Sayah didn't look away from the radiated Earth, even when Emori scoffed and stood beside her, staring down at their old home as well.

   "I'm not exactly the comforting type." Emori explained.

   "What type are you, exactly?" Sayah muttered sourly. "The lying kind?" Sayah stopped herself there. She hadn't meant to snap, or be rude—in fact she had begin to like Emori, but when she was around, some of the memories from back when everyone was trying to survive—by lying, apparently—came back up to the surface.

Emori was quiet for a moment. "I am sorry. . . for that. Really." A pause. "I know how much you care about him."

"Because you feel the same way?" Sayah didn't hesitate.

"Because I've seen it." Emori corrected. "Yes, there was. . . a moment where I saw John a certain way." The way she said his name made Sayah want to leave, but she stayed where she stood, still listening intently. "But that's over now."

Emori was looking at her now. "He loves you more than anything. It's. . ."

Terrifying. Beautiful. Thrilling. Crazy. Selfish. Idiotic. There were many words Sayah could use to describe it. Most of them lately had been negative.

"Why are you here?" Sayah whispered, voice quiet. She turned to look at Emori properly now, and noticed that after a year, she had changed. She seemed not that older, but more mature-looking. Her eyes were gentle, instead of the cold, closed-off look she used to direct toward Sayah. She looked. . . happy.

"Why are you?" Emori replied. Her words weren't rough or accusing, they were soft and concerning. Sayah looked away, back out the window.

Emori didn't say anything for a moment, until she sighed and turned to leave. Before the doors closed however, Sayah heard her gently call out, "Monty could use some help with the algae. I'm in there most of the time, but I'm pretty sure he'd rather see a familiar face." The doors closed, and Sayah felt cold again.

A familiar face. Would they even recognise her when she couldn't even recognise herself?

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"You know when Monty mentioned you had gone to help him a little in the kitchen, I expected the algae to be more. . ." Emori paused as she stood beside Sayah. "Well, more."

   The view at the window was the same, like Sayah knew it would be—not much to see—and the knowledge of Emori beside her should've increased the want to leave, but she didn't. Instead, she replied, amused, "Contrary to popular belief, even my presence doesn't immediately erase everything bad in the world. Plus, the algae is just simply terrible, no matter what you do."

   "Glad we can agree on something." Emori answered, a small smile forming on her face. She was quiet for a moment. "My brother, Otan, probably would've. . ." A pause. "If he was here, he would've just been happy we had something similar to a proper meal. Something we hadn't stolen, I suppose."

   Sayah knew very little of Emori's brother, only that he had come to Arkadia with Jaha while "under the influence" of ALIE, and that was where he had died as well.

   "Pike had killed him too." Sayah noted aloud, turning to look at her. "Like Lincoln." It wasn't by Pike's hand, they both knew that, but Pike's hatred of Grounders had done enough. It had influenced most of the people of Arkadia, and that had gotten Otan killed.

   "Lincoln wasn't much interested in the sky as I was." Sayah continued. "But I think he'd have liked to be here. Just like Otan."

   "Will you tell me about Lincoln? The stories I've heard are nice but. . . well I'm sure you saw him somewhat differently." Emori chuckled lightly. "I'm curious."

   "Oh, definitely." Sayah agreed, amused. There was a long pause. "Will you tell me about Otan?"

   "You're in for a treat." Emori grinned, and Sayah smiled back, feeling suddenly quite comfortable. Funny that, she thought as Emori began to tell her a tale about how Otan got caught in one of their first jobs.

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"Don't leave." The words were hollow. "Don't leave."

Murphy furrowed his brows, making his way back over to her and taking a seat beside her. The past few weeks had been up and down for Sayah, but he had stayed at her side nonetheless. She was eating more, and when she did talk, her words were less clipped and began to lack the usual dullness.

Murphy had caught her and Emori together at the window more than once, and decided to let them do whatever they did—talk, he guessed—which should have scared him but instead filled him with joy. The other week Monty had caught up with him and let him know that Sayah had actually visited him in the kitchen more than once. The knowledge that she was doing more and more each day, was comforting.

She was getting there, feeling better, and Murphy would tell Bellamy every afternoon. Because she was.

   There was not a moment where Murphy loved Sayah any less.

   Currently, she was in one of her extremely low moods and had called in Murphy—to his surprise—to ask him to let Emori and Monty know that she wouldn't be seeing them. Just as he was about to leave, she had called out to him, repeating the same two words over and over again.

As Murphy sat beside her on the bed quietly, he wanted to say, "I'm not going anywhere," But he couldn't because she was already speaking again.

"I let everyone leave." She let out a soft breath of shock. "I can't stop thinking about it." Her eyes were forward and glassy; she looked like she was leaving her body, somehow. Murphy wouldn't let her.

"That's not true—"

"I let Lincoln leave." She swallowed thickly. "I let Luna leave." A pause. Her eyes shifted over to him and they were so sad, so detached. "I let my mother leave, I let you leave—"

"Hey," Murphy shook his head, cupping her face. Her eyes fell to the ground, like she was shutting down like some sort of machine. "Look at me, hey," He lifted her chin up to meet his eyes. She looked like she wanted to cry, but no tears fell. Murphy wanted to crumble at the sight. Was this what it was like while he was gone? Was she always like this? He frowned. "I left because I was an idiot," The words were mixed in with a short dry chuckle before he went serious. "Not because you told me to."

"I should've just went with you—" The words trailed off as Murphy shook his head.

"No, no." He declined. "I don't know what would've happened if you did. You could've been killed in the landmines, Jaha could've pushed you off the boat. . . anything could've happened." The thought made Murphy sick. "You're safe now," His hand dropped from her cheek; he had forgotten it was there. "You're here with me. That's all I need."

And it was the truth. It would always be the truth. All he needed was her—all he wanted was her. Nothing else seemed to matter.

"You should get some sleep, okay?" He spoke after a moment of silence. He hoped his earlier words hadn't scared her, but she had to have known he already felt that way, didn't she? Part of him wondered if it was the same for her—was he enough for her like she was for him?

   He hoped he was.

   "Just stay," She laid down gently, hand reaching out for his. "Just stay."

   "I'm here. You're fine." He reassured her. She didn't speak, only shifted in her spot, making space behind her. He paused. "You. . . want me to sleep here tonight?"

   Her lips parted. "You don't have to. . . if. . ."

   "No, it's fine." He shook his head, clearing his throat. "It's fine. Scoot over." And so she did, slowly letting him rest his arm under her and having the other wrap around her body. Murphy's heart raced—they hadn't been like this in a while. His mind was hitting him with the same instructions, over and over again: Don't mess this up. Don't mess this up.

   Not planning on it. He thought as he felt her fingers trace softly on his arm. She was so gentle with him—he never understood it. He didn't deserve it; he didn't deserve her. It just had him falling all over again. Tripping over his feet, like a love-struck fool, and maybe he was one. But maybe that was okay. Because he had learned long ago, he was hers. And maybe that wasn't the worst thing in the world, like he had thought it could be in a dark cave once upon a time.

   "You know how," She sniffled, fingers tracing over his wrist. "How my favourite colour is green?"

   "Yeah, I remember," He hummed, eyes closed as the memory came back to him of the two of them sitting on their ledge, hiding nervous grins while their legs swung.

   "There's something I didn't tell you." She whispered.

   "Yeah, and what was that?"

   "It's only green because that was Lincoln's." A pause. "I copied him, I'm sorry."

   Murphy couldn't stop the laughter that escaped out of him, and he buried his face into the crook of her neck. "God, you're perfect." He chuckled, feeling her fingers now tap lightly instead of tracing. A calm hum fell over them, and Murphy couldn't hate it because she was in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

   "Thank you." She suddenly whispered, loud enough to silence out the machine hum.

   He could feel her heartbeat seem to match his own through his chest. "For what?" He asked, because he assumed it wasn't for the compliment.

  Murphy knew well enough before she answered.

༺═──────────────═༻

a/n

damn thats crazyyyyy HOW LONG HAS IT BEENHOW WE DOING? WE FEELING FULL?HAVE I FED YOU ALL ENOUGH?

frick i missed this book n my girl sayahI HAVE HAD MADD WRITERS BLOCKnext chapter will be year three n four on the ringn then five n six n then SEASON 5

IM WORKING ON IT OKAY BUT IVE BEEN BUSYn also i am feeling better from last time i updated n i am taking care of myself

forever grateful for da love n support n your connents CRACK ME UP i love em

HERES DA MEMESSSSSSS

^ sayah this chapter :( my poor girl

^ what emori leaves on sayah's door every now n then.yeah obviously they meet at the window n not her house duh

^ murphy leaving sayah's room, defeated, after she tells him to get out

^ bellamy waiting outside of sayah's room when murphy comes out, defeated