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bellamy blake. ([personal profile] deployed) wrote in [community profile] station72 2017-02-12 03:47 am (UTC)

[ The urge to recoil presents itself, though Bellamy disregards it. Murphy's pain is a visceral scream cutting through Bellamy's consciousness, but recoiling isn't an option. He has to grit his teeth past the memory of Charlotte, past the crushing grip of isolation and the chill of gunmetal on his skin. He can't pull back. Recoiling would confirm Murphy's point, and Bellamy can't afford it.

Or more honestly, he can't bear it. He's let Murphy down in so many ways. He can't fail in this.

Murphy's memories cut, sharp as everything else about him. But the straps between them perseveres, phantom friction burning Bellamy's palms as he presses closer and closer, folding into Murphy's mind and disregarding any sense of separation. ]


( I promise. ) [ Bellamy's word use to mean something, before everything between them came apart. ] ( I'm here, and I promise I'm not going anywhere without you. )

[ More logically, he could have made the case that he was only here because he hadn't left Murphy behind. But it skewed too closely to blame, and arguing feels counterproductive. He tries to project sensation to blot out the gun and despair, radiate calm the way he had before when Murphy had been doubled over in an alley in the midst of a celebration. ]

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