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CHARACTERS: Lexa and Murphy
WHERE: The Station—specifically wherever Murphy rests his head..
WHEN: DAY :010.
SUMMARY: Lexa and Murphy need to get on the same wavelength. According to Lexa. Who thinks she can tell people what to do.
WARNINGS: None for now. Will update.

[As a politician and military leader, Lexa has to view the world in a broader sense. The issue is that in sticking to this behavior, she is no longer allowed to be disconnected from those around her. She cannot wear a blindfold to the emotions of the people in her life, and she can't pretend she is above those things. Therefore, she has to take action and use it as her weapon, allowing it to guide her day in and day out.

Her choice to wait on approaching Murphy is complicated by the fact that she has a lot to arrange now that she's awake again. It isn't avoidance or fear of the conversation that takes her away. It's the fact that she needs specific set pieces in place before she approaches him. It's as simple as that. Having a plan set in place to move forward to keep him in line—read: to prevent him from encouraging Bellamy down an unfortunate path—will help. Besides, she assumes that he'll assume that she'll have an agenda when she approaches. And she does. There are few that Lexa doesn't have an agenda with, even if she's fond of them. Her mind is too trained toward commanding a direction.

When she shows up beside wherever Murphy is sleeping and sits down like she belongs there to wait for him to awaken and notice her, she knows that she's crossing a boundary, that she's stepping across a line to make him uncomfortable. That she's taken so long after the poor nature of her conversation is telling. She wants it to be clear that she isn't hiding from the amount of days it's taken. She does assume he'll be awake soon, between his tendency toward survival (he is still alive somehow) and the fact that he can be considered among the "very new" to this symbiote business.]

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[His mouth presses downward, head bobbing in a slight nod. It's not a bad attempt.]

And you'd want something back.

[Because this isn't a one-way offer. Nothing ever is, especially with grounders. It's a deal, even if she'd just want him to owe her.]

I'm not foolish enough to believe I can command you, no matter what alliances were in place when I left home. [In part because she knows that he sees her as a dead woman. To him, she is just a commander that's passed on; in her wake, there has only been destruction.]

But I believe we are better suited to working as allies. That will mean that any rash plans you have will be run by me to be considered. It doesn't mean that I will stop all of them. My people aren't exactly accustomed to sitting idly. [Here, she is offering a defense. Beneath it all, she expects him to call her out on wanting to protect Bellamy. Lexa won't have an answer for that, but she does mean to protect him from Murphy's future decisions if they might hurt Bellamy.]

[Murphy doesn't laugh, but it's close. He smiles, sharp, instead, turning his head slightly. She doesn't believe she can command him, but everything that had come out of her mouth after allies sounded just like it, completed with another reminder of what grounders were really like. He wonders if she'd tried this tactic with Bellamy, or if it was just loyalty to Clarke and his own nature that had made him fall into listening to her.]

You know Bellamy wanted to bring you in, right? But you were asleep, so he couldn't. Obviously.

[So Murphy hadn't needed to make any argument to try and stop it. He couldn't have done, anyway. He knows what Bellamy's like.]

I mean, I'll admit, it probably would've gone down better if you'd been involved. [It's not even a hard thing to admit. Bellamy had been too nice with Kulap. Lexa would have known the necessity of being harsher. Except, from what he can tell, her involvement wouldn't have been involvement at all.] But you would've, what, warned her? Chained us up somewhere?

[He waves a hand, palm upward, loose.]

I'm just curious what "stopping me" means.

How willing are you to compromise once a plan's been decided upon? [His last statement isn't a question, but it's leading enough that Lexa knows that she is answering what is implied as a question with a question. Her initial thoughts would have been to be rash, to stop them abruptly, but she knows better. Bellamy can be stalled. Murphy is an unknown entity, supposedly there for the last moments of (a version of) her life and typically seen as a pawn.

People like him have something to prove.

Typically, anyway.]

[Murphy shrugs.]

Plans change.

[Adaptation was a necessity. He'd absorbed that lesson right down to his bones.]

It's the outcome that matters. You don't have to compromise on that, not when you all want the same thing.

[Like Bellamy, wanting to bring Lexa in. Actually bringing The Darkling in. Talking to Kulap nicely, giving her a measure of trust - one that had been too much, in the end. All of those had been compromises, as far as Murphy was concerned. But they'd happened because he knew he and Bellamy were on the same page. Get free. Get home.

He can't say the same for Lexa.]

What is it that you want? [Lexa would have stared at him for a long time to get him to volunteer this information, but she knows better than to try her luck here. This is truly meant as an alliance, which means that she has to adapt more. Besides, he's the closest thing that she can obtain to a known entity outside of Bellamy, even if she knows that there will always be distance between them.]

Tell me and I will tell you what I want. [Simple enough, so that he can't throw the question in return.]

[It's tempting to tell Lexa he doesn't care what she wants. That there's no point continuing this, because alliances have to be built on that, some motivation to give a shit about the other party being involved - whether that was because you needed their help, you wanted them with you, or you needed them to not get in your way.

It's the last that's the problem Lexa could pose, but in the moment it's theoretical. She hadn't admitted what she would have done, if she'd been awake, and Murphy's sure there would be ways to get around her. So that isn't why he humours her in answering. It's more that he's curious, coldly, on which one she sees him as.]

I want to get this thing out of my head, get out of here and go home. Alive. Brain and everything else fully intact. Before the bug eats my mind and stops me caring about leaving.

[It's the only rational and sane thing to want, as far as he's concerned.]

Edited 2017-03-07 00:35 (UTC)

And if removing the symbiote kills us, as it's been suggested that it would? We won't have the strength to fight off the very enemies who seek to attack us. We have no proof that this is true, of course. But it is a risk that we need to consider, unless you wish to be the test.

[Lexa chooses to say nothing about the symbiote taking over her mind. She has no desire to allow that to happen. Admitting that it's made her weak as a result would be offering up too much too quickly, and Bellamy knows just the same.]

[None of it's anything he hadn't considered, and he doesn't flinch. Looks unimpressed, more.]

I didn't shave my hair off for fun.

[But then, he couldn't expect a grounder to know the signs of preparations for brain surgery.]

The surgeon said she could cut it out without killing me. [Though he doubts the truth of anything Kulap had said, in retrospect. He knows what it is, to say whatever you think your captors want to hear.]

Then, anyway.

[That's a crack of bitterness, a tip of his head that could be a shrug. He'd need to get another scan to confirm it, but he knows it had been a short window, and it was closed now.]

It's not removing it that worries me. You were attacked before you came here. Not by my people, but by a different entity entirely. Do you remember that?

[Lexa does not pry to ask why he chose to come here. Survival is important. Murphy, unlike Parker, seems to at least have that much figured out.]

Yeah, I remember.

[Distinctly. It had been terrifying, alien and impossible.]

And I haven't seen anything since I got here that says these [a fingertip drilled to the side of his head] would make any difference going up against it.

[A flamethrower, maybe. A bomb. Playing psychic families, not so much.]

Being here shields us from their assault. But every indication tells me that we would die here without it. Our bodies cannot sustain it.

Do you want to be the one who proves that to be true? [Lexa would speak of going to war with their Enemy, but she doesn't want to bring that up with him. Something tells her that he isn't as willing to be persuaded by that.]

There are others who can take that path. Who can test what we're being told. Unless you prefer to be the sacrifice.

Yeah yeah, between the multiverse, I know. You're not the only one who can talk to Cathaway.

[And Murphy has no attachment to the station, as supposed sanctuary or otherwise. If the plan had worked, if his symbiote had been removed, he hadn't intended on coming back. It's a moot point, and he was bored of it before Lexa brought it up. Bored of the whole train of argument she's trying to lead him down, and he leans back on the bed, drawing a leg up to rest his arm on his knee.]

Here's some different questions for you. If we need this place shielding us, where the hell was their assault when we were walking around Concordia for two months? [Not him personally, but he knows how long the mission ran, how long the hosts were on the ground. And he knows how fast an attack can come, how less than a single day can be more than enough for any kind of "assault". The grounders had taught him that.] Or how about this: if they only go after maybe-hosts, why was there anything down there for us to fix in the first place?

[His hand lifts, pointing.]

Do you really think Earth's safe, right now?

[She'd asked it, before, how do you know if someone is safe while we're here? Had practically agreed with him where it came to not trusting the word of Cathaway or whoever might just tell them that was the case. But here she was, arguing like staying on the station was the better course of action.]

The questions you ask are contradictions that I've noticed myself. Do you think you're the only one who lacks the answers to those questions? Carata insisted that they have some greater goal, one divorced from us. We're supposedly the only ones who can stop it. Perhaps they fool us into believing that there is only one way to stop our Enemy, to prevent them from attacking our people. But we can't risk our lives without finding the answers to these contradictions. That would be foolish. Survival comes first. [Her point is not that Cathaway is correct. It's that they have no way of knowing if Cathaway, the Prince, Carata, or anyone else is telling the truth or lying to them. And risking that would be a poor plan.

It would be better to find another individual, to trick them into doing exactly what it is that Murphy first intended. Lexa is always willing to use the body and mind of someone she cares little for to achieve her goals. Some people would call it callous. Others would call it wise.

She knows that it's a mixture of both.]

We have no way of knowing if Earth is safe. What I've learned from you and Bellamy is that my absence—through death or otherwise—causes problems regardless. But we have the means through the Nest to end this war and protect our people. I am no longer a significant factor regardless. I would die if I had returned right away, and would die regardless. It's ... what would be intended. So I must use what opportunities I have to gain a better advantage.

Of course, we have no way of knowing there is a war at all. But we can't act as if there is no truth because we will continue to find evidence to support that and ignore the rest.

Edited (adding more to comment after fixing typo) 2017-03-12 20:59 (UTC)

I don't give a crap if their war's real or not. [Playing any part in it, pretending like there was any way to end it. It wasn't like Murphy was incapable of seeing the big picture. But when the big picture is so big that the thing you care about is an insignificant part of it, no one else is going to prioritise it except you.] The way to find out if Earth's safe is by going back.

[And it's the right now that's important. The right now that she's missed, talking about opportunities, finding answers as if there wouldn't be risk in doing that anyway.]

But you're right. You're dead.

[Not just in the literal sense. She does it to herself, the bullshit grounder shell over anything in her that could resemble a feeling. If she didn't, right now would matter, because Clarke would matter. Just like Emori does. And nothing Lexa had or could say would change that.]

I've told you what I want. [Like she'd asked.] I'd save us both some time and say I don't care what you want, but I'm guessing you'll just tell me anyway.

[There is a sense: unspoken, that she disagrees with the sentiment in finding out if Earth is safe. They each have a different Earth, from what she's discerned. That much is clear. And that doesn't begin to account for the Earths from which the other Hosts come from; she wonders if he even cares about Bellamy's version of home, or hers.

She's bet otherwise.]

I want to win. To guarantee that our people are safe from this threat. That means seeking out the answers we need to the contradictions that they offer us. [There's a beat of silence.] And I'd prefer to keep Bellamy alive. And you as well. It'll be harder for me to manage that if you are willing to sacrifice yourself for the sake of an answer that might kill you.

[He'd guessed right, but then, it wasn't a difficult guess to make. If there was one thing he'd definitely learnt about Lexa since he'd arrived, it was that she loved the sound of her own voice.

That she was grounder to the core was a secondary, and every conversation he's had with her has only confirmed it. This is no different: that winning the war came first, protecting "their" people second. All without bothering to find out if they were alive to protect in the first place.

So he just nods, slight, mouth tugging mirthlessly.]

I've already had five months of might kill me - most of which, by the way, was your fault. We're not going to get anywhere here without taking risks, and trust me, I'm only going to take them if they're worth it. So if you want to stop someone sacrificing themselves over something stupid, stick with Bellamy.

[There's a beat, as if he was going to be done there, but he abruptly realises he's done with the whole conversation. He unfolds himself, moving off the bed and to his feet as he continues:]

In fact, you should just stick with Bellamy in general. He's the only one who's going to stomach this cares enough about Clarke to protect us but not enough to get back to her bullshit you're trying to sell.

[And he heads for the door, absolutely willing to abandon the room and any attempt at getting back to sleep to get away from her.]

[Murphy has an uncanny knack for finding the wound that's greatest within her and stabbing his fingers into it. She can't help but feel a flicker of respect, only it's underneath a cold burn of anger that ignites immediately. She watches him as he moves, but she follows through with the action swiftly, fingers wrapping around his arm as she moves to hold him in place. Unlike with Rhys (or later, Ilde), she won't hold him against a wall to make her point. The idea is to still him—that's all.

It isn't even a matter of final words. But Lexa isn't fond of being walked out on. There is that, and she knows that even holding him in place will be some weird moral victory for him.]

You are going to be the cause for Bellamy hurting himself. I can't keep him from following you. [Her words are forceful, no longer in the diplomatic territory that she managed before.]

And I'm simply making sure that Clarke—and the rest of our people—don't die should we ever return. And don't get caught up in this. It's called thinking smart, but you seem to only think of yourself.

[It reminds her of Parker, in a way. So narrow in his vision that he only cares for whatever definition he's provided for the situation.

Her hand frees him as she straightens up. He's taller than her, but she still attempts her fully condescending frigidity so that she can maintain some composure.]

[It's the second time Lexa has grabbed him to stop him leaving. The first time, she'd been in the right, and he'd known it. This is different, and he bets that a majority of it is the idea of someone walking away before she's done talking.

He was right to try walking away, though. All she has to say is more bullshit. It isn't her attempt to insult him that makes him stay. It's how she keeps talking like what she's doing is going to save anyone - Bellamy, or the people back home.]

All you're making sure of is that they'll be dead already when we get there. But sure, keep sitting on your ass and calling it "smart" if that makes you feel better.

[Not that she'd ever acknowledge a feeling, and he pauses in turning to the door again, a sharp smile like something funny has just occurred to him.]

You know what I really keep thinking? At least Finn went looking for her. [Even if it had made him crazy. At least it wasn't doing nothing.] Maybe she wouldn't have cried over you so much if she'd known you were a coward.

Let me make one thing clear, John Murphy. [It's her anger that he meant to incite, and he accomplishes it many times over. Lexa only abstains from violence because she knows that he would view it as satisfying in some way—as a victory that he sought to obtain from this interaction. As much as she knows that any other conversation like this one would have ended in violence, she refuses to give that to him.

Some part of her knows that it's an odd way to think of it, and yet—that decision is the one thing that grounds her.]

You will not use Clarke as a weapon against me again. It's clear that it's beyond you to think of anyone but yourself, but thankfully, there are others who are capable of doing that for you. You've made it clear today that you have no intention of changing that.

[Oddly enough, it's not the mention of Clarke that wounds her. It's mentioning Finn's actions as if they are something to be celebrated; if she had done that following Costia's death, it would've been unwise. That isn't how she does things, and she won't tear apart her world just because of her love for Clarke.

And she knows Clarke would never, in a million years, do the same in return. Trying to weaponize their love for one another as if they don't share that understanding is a mistake.

Then again, it's not so different from what Titus had tried.]

Edited 2017-03-18 00:26 (UTC)

Still not my commander, Commander.

[It's an insult in his mouth, absolutely. If there's anyone here except Bellamy who listens to her, he hasn't heard them. He won't be joining Bellamy in doing what she says, and he definitely doesn't need anyone thinking for him.]

Besides, the only way Clarke could be a weapon is if you actually cared, right?

[There is a sensation of her sharply withdrawing mentally, all burning anger pulled away and sucked dry from the atmosphere. All that remains is just a cool, unreadable expression.]

No matter what happens after today, I was the one who attempted to make an alliance between us.

[Lexa knows how he'll read that: as a threat, as a sign that he's now her enemy. Perhaps he'll even see it as coming from some pedestal she views herself on. Some of that is even true.

But in reality, it had been an attempt to help offer him an ally for Bellamy and Clarke's sakes, while trying to protect the former of the two from Murphy's actions.]

[She retreats, pulls her mind back, and it's almost tempting to chase after it. Release the tourniquet wrapped tight in his own head, let the screaming agony his symbiote has been since Kate and Remus fell away bleed out into the space between them. It's an urge he ignores.]

What, were you about to feel something? [Other than anger: that was a given with any grounder.] Yeah, better wrap that back up. Can't let anyone know you experience actual emotions.

[It reminds him of Ilde, for a moment, who'd taken human as an insult. Murphy could barely get through one conversation without having a reflecting emotion pulled up out of himself. The level of self-denial necessary to avoid that had to be immense, but of course, she probably just thought it made her strong.]

And I'm sure the alliance where you don't care what I want and I don't care what you want would've really worked out.

[Lexa chooses not to acknowledge the statement about "actual emotions." To accuse her of not caring enough about Clarke and then proceed to suggest that she wouldn't want to be seen experiencing anything is a contradiction in her mind. Not only that, it feels desperate, as if he can't find any other flaw to play with, to bat at like a wounded animal trying to get one more strike in.]

Alliances are about seeking a common goal, and doing it in a way that benefits both of us. The fact that you can't see the commonality between us is a failing on your part.

[It's a failing on his part, not hers. She refuses to claim blame when he has been nothing but defensive (from her perspective) for the entirety of their conversation, too honed in on what he wants her to say, rather than the reality of it. It tells her that he's working with limited knowledge, but prefers to keep it that way so that he can remain mired in his view of the world.

Which is fine. But it means that she refuses to be caught up in it, to be beholden to it, and she'll have to make sure that it's the same for Bellamy.]

[No answer. Of course not. He smiles.]

Actually, they're about being worth something to the other person.

[And commonality didn't mean anything when the difference was too vast. The enemy she'd wanted him to recall had attacked him in the throne room, surrounded by the people she claimed to want to keep safe. There was no keeping them from being caught up. The enemy were already there.]

You think I'm stupid, and I know it makes no difference to me if you're awake or asleep, so...

[He steps back from the doorway, holds an open hand out towards it. He'd been walking away, but she'd stopped him. And it was past time for her to leave.]

Games of semantics will win you no favors. [Because that's what it seems this is. From her perspective, Murphy is knee-deep in his beliefs, too stubborn to drag himself away from the decisions he's already made regarding the relationship they share. She supposes that it's not surprising, considering; her people did torture him. But things change.

Or revert back to where they were before.

She decides those will be her final words as she leaves his room, head high, without giving him a final glance.]

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