[open]

[wrackful]

CHARACTERS: Murphy & OPEN
WHERE: Red Coast
WHEN: DAY :028 - :032 (see headers for specifics).
SUMMARY: Seviilia goes into a coma, Murphy is left as the last Elnath
WARNINGS: Most likely mentions of past violence and death.

NIGHT, DAY :028 | OUTSIDE THE BARRACKS | CLOSED TO LEXA

[It's late. Most of the other hosts are asleep, and Murphy was heading that way himself when he'd caught sight of the ocean again. The change in the water had already been pretty during the day, but now with no other light to compete against the bioluminescence, it's even more beautiful.

No other light, that is, except the bonfire. Where the brish might be alien to him, the fire lit high in the cliffs has a sharper tug of recognition: the grounder encampment outside Camp Jaha, waiting for Finn's execution. He doesn't let his thoughts stray too far that way, but there's a sense of foreboding all the same. The village is waiting for something, an atmosphere which is almost too quiet, heavy, and even as he stays watching the swirls and eddies of bright colour out in the water, he can feel it pressing down. He doesn't know that he wants to see what they're waiting for.]

DAY :029 - DAY :032 | THE BARRACKS | OPEN

[It isn't a vigil. He doesn't sit at Seviilia's bedside to watch over her, make any hopes or prayers about her wellbeing or recovery. He occupies a space opposite her bunk, hunkered down against the wall, and it's more about not really having the strength to leave. She'd torn a hole in him. All his broodmates had, one by one, but Seviilia had been the last, and now there's no one left to try and hold the edges closed with. The remnants of her ice in him are already fading, but after the first day what's left doesn't even really feel like pain anymore. A numbness, instead. Fatigue carved bitter down into his bones.

He's been left alone again. He really shouldn't have expected anything different.]

Comments

[wrackful]

[A fight would've been easier. Murphy's expectations run along patterns of Bellamy telling him he's wrong, arguing, attempting to drag him out of here. Instead Bellamy says please, asks him so openly, nothing but the desire to help in his mind where he's pressing against Murphy. He doesn't know what to do with it. He searches Bellamy's face, uncertainty open and vulnerable in his eyes, and his walls stutter, buckle in.

The pain isn't the same. It isn't a howling, present cacophony of memory tearing him into panic. Instead there's just an emptiness. A vast chasm of it, an edge of his mind that simply sheers off into pitch darkness. Empty, entirely, but the weight of it had driven him to his knees, kept him pinned here, whole body aching as it was crushed. Slowly learning to bear it again, to find enough strength to stand for longer than a few minutes at a time.

And then: doubt. Too late to keep Bellamy out, but blooming all the same, defensive disbelief. Bellamy couldn't mean it. Bellamy would fall asleep too, or just turn away, leave him, and the blistering fury of Bellamy's expression on the cliff where they'd all left him cuts to Bellamy's anger in the tent after the autopsy. An inevitability that Murphy would do it, eventually. Something deserving being abandoned over.]

[deployed]

[ There's no way to blot out the emptiness in Murphy, but knowing that doesn't stop Bellamy from wanting to try. As Murphy lets him in, Bellamy lets his mind intermingle with Murphy's. It's dangerous to do this. It's exactly what he's warned newly arrived members of the Nest against. But it's easy to do with Murphy. He draws Murphy in to him, palms burning as he reaches to take Murphy's wrist. ]

I mean it.

[ Sincerity alone can't guard against all the things he can feel weighing down Murphy's thoughts. He can't dispel the doubt. His own face reflects back, twisted up in anger, and sparking up guilt in the pit of Bellamy's stomach. ]

You don't have to feel this all by yourself.

[wrackful]

[All of Bellamy's dogged certainty, and he never tries to defend himself against the things that spill out of Murphy's head. Out of his mouth. Just this steadiness, this sincerity, winding in closer through Murphy's mind, pulling in that warmth of contact, forcing back the ache of loneliness with his sheer presence. Murphy has to close his eyes for a moment, has to breathe past it before he's overwhelmed, days of nothing but distance and the void where his brood should be.

The emptiness hasn't gone. But his palms are striped with the heat of another bond that doesn't shake loose, Bellamy's hands warm around both his wrists.]

( Yeah. I do. )

[Looking at Bellamy again, the prickle of tears burning at the back of his eyes. Feeling the ache of the absence inside and knowing he's the only one who can feel it for his brood. The last one left. But he doesn't try to pull away or push Bellamy out. Cathaway had told him to find others, the first time he'd gone to her with the pain. Maybe this is what she meant.]

slithers in to leave a hug

[deployed]

[ The contradiction rises in Bellamy's mind so clearly. No whispering across the bond between them before the urge towards action crystallizes in its wake. If he could, he would physically push away all the pain and loneliness swirling in Murphy's mind. But all he do now is reel Murphy in towards him.

In this position, the hug is slightly awkward. Murphy's hands are still clasped, and Bellamy doesn't let go until he can get his arms around Murphy's shoulders. He shuffles in and crushes their bodies together, letting Murphy tuck in close. He's here. There's no more clear expression of that than this action. ]