[It's the worst thing that could've happened, Bellamy pulling on the connection between them right now. Murphy fights to keep it distant, not to flood it wide, the thread shivering frantic in his hold. He should let go. Cut it completely, but he can't.
He can't.
The memories are there already, rising too easily to overlay the emptiness of three months of solitude over the cell around him. He drops onto the cot again, head dipping low, the smell of alcohol that had never really numbed the loneliness, the desperate gnaw of near starvation in his stomach, ALIE and Becca, Chris blowing his brains out, over and over, the gun in his hands. His grip on the thread between them could be tight enough for it to cut into his flesh, if it was real, and all the determination he has to keep it narrow means nothing as slivers of everything in his head start to bleed into it.]
no subject
( Don't. )
[It's the worst thing that could've happened, Bellamy pulling on the connection between them right now. Murphy fights to keep it distant, not to flood it wide, the thread shivering frantic in his hold. He should let go. Cut it completely, but he can't.
He can't.
The memories are there already, rising too easily to overlay the emptiness of three months of solitude over the cell around him. He drops onto the cot again, head dipping low, the smell of alcohol that had never really numbed the loneliness, the desperate gnaw of near starvation in his stomach, ALIE and Becca, Chris blowing his brains out, over and over, the gun in his hands. His grip on the thread between them could be tight enough for it to cut into his flesh, if it was real, and all the determination he has to keep it narrow means nothing as slivers of everything in his head start to bleed into it.]