Monroe’s teeth were beginning to ache from how tightly they were pressed together. Uncontrollable anger was beginning to seethe inside her, threatening to bubble up and make her snap. Her eyes narrowed at Murphy and she shook her head, refusing to let him go just yet. “Maybe it should be justified if you explode by me asking a simple question. I just wanted to know why.” She swallowed, not caring about the poison in her voice “It’s cowardly. And stupid.”
Maybe could have kept it together if he hadn’t spoken the last part. But the more Murphy went on the more angry and hurt she got until the top of that bottle she pushed her emotions into popped off. How could he go there? How could he say that? The was another pause as the anger visibly rose, showing on her expression and countenance as the girl stiffened. “You-”
Monroe’s voice caught, she was too livid and shocked to form a complete sentence. Her hand balled into a fist and she found herself responding the only way she knew how. The fist was brought up to Murphy’s nose in a quick and flicking motion, making contact with a sickening thud.
Murphy wasn’t new to violence. In fact, he was intimately
acquainted with being attacked. He was, however, new to the full brunt of
Monroe’s fist. Her knuckles bore into his cartilage, flint on flint, and pain
rippled through his face upon impact. Blood dripped from nose and spattered his
shirt as he stared at her, wide-eyed and wounded.
This was inevitable. Monroe’s betrayed expression got into
his bloodstream; the edges of his vision blurred and blackened slightly, and
his nose was crooked and streaming. He tried to muster the conviction he’d felt
when he’d decided to stay. He tried to remember his pride and justifications.
However, the only thing he remembered was that he was a coward and Monroe was the only thing that made the idea of dying
more devastating. He wanted to hit her. He wanted to hit her and make her pay, but he wouldn’t – couldn’t. His
emotions were everywhere, everywhere, like a serpent trying to escape him, like
he was being consumed. She was right, she
was right, he was a coward. Months and months worth of pent of misery poured out of his eyes and skin and mouth.
“What, that’s all you got?” he croaked, and then his voice
rose. “You want me to stay,
huh? Well what if I can’t? ‘Cause there—there’s so much death,
all around me, and I just—I just can’t…I just-” with a hysterical laugh, he instinctively
wiped his hand under his nose, and tears gushed over his eyelids and slid down
his now blood-smeared cheeks. “I feel it in my Goddamn head
and it’s killing me! It’s killing me. That should’ve been
my execution.”
Finn’s execution was
still a fresh wound, and tied into his low blow regarding Sterling. Despite
everything, Raven had been right to offer him up. He may not have pulled the
trigger, but he killed Connor and Myles, and tried to hang Bellamy. Murphy wrapped his arms around his stomach until
his lungs felt as if they were being wrung out.
“I’ve kept all this inside me for so long, and
everything is fucked up and there’s nothing I can do about it,” he shouted.
“I’m not allowed to anything, I can’t act out: I’m just supposed
to crawl into a hole like the obedient
dirt I am and take it. But I can’t do this forever! My father,
he—he died for me. And I—I can’t do this forever. I can’t do this forever, I
can’t-”
Octavia sighed and tilted her head looking at him, at least he knew he was doomed if he didn’t cooperate and that was good. However, his answer didn’t really make her feel any better. “Here to help? And why would someone want your help? You’re not one of us, we do not need anything from you,” she hissed and took one step closer to him.
“You can’t really blame me if I don’t welcome you with open arms. You’re our enemy, enemy’s aren’t supposed to be wandering around here. Do you know what happens to our enemies?”
“Yeah, I remember. It would be hard to forget,” dead-panned
Murphy, heart still pounding against his ribs. Octavia’s reaction filled him
with immediate indignant rage – he knew exactly
what happened to their enemies. After all, he had been subjected to days of excruciating
torture by their hand, only to be disposed
of as a biological weapon. His fingernails were still growing back after being ripped out one by one; he wanted nothing more than to shut that Grounder bitch
up.
“But it’s funny you mention that,” His lips twitched as he tightened his grip on his backpack; despite everything, the Blakes had their similarities. ”You remind me of someone.”
Bellamy’s eyes flashed dangerously at a sight of Murphy’s smirk. He growled underneath his breath and was on his feet in a second. Nobody was allowed to talk to him like that, especially not Murphy who was already always pulling his strings like he wished to get a fist on his face once again. Quite sad that Bellamy didn’t plan to fulfill his wish.
His hand took a firstful of Murphy’s hair dragging his head up, not caring it was most likely damn painful. Bellamy narrowed his eyes as he looked down to him, his face so close Murphy could probably even feel his breath.
“That wasn’t a point. You come here to just sit on your lazy ass thinking you may get food and somewhere soft to lie on at nights without doing anything for it. Well, you’re wrong. If you plan to stay here, you better prove us you can be useful as well. Just fucking pull your face out of your own ass and for once look around yourself.”
There it was; the proverbial shoe finally dropped. Murphy
knew it wouldn’t last long. With one swift, abrupt movement, Bellamy had Murphy’s
hair in a death grip. He yelped and tried to twist away from the leader, but to
no avail. The noise that fell from his lips was several shades of embarrassing,
and he was caught with his neck craned: all clenched teeth, furrowed brows, and
trembling arms. He’d expected a reaction, sure, but nothing more than a slap.
“What were you expecting, Bellamy?” he snarled, nonplussed
by the pain. The smirk on his face was feral; his gaze dropped to Bellamy’s
mouth and he imagined tearing his tongue out. “That I’d come back and be what? Just another idiot to follow you and the princess around? I hauled by ass through
fucking the Dead Zone twice; you don’t
get to tell me what to do anymore!”
His scalp and his head hurt and his lungs were beating
against his ribs, but he snarled up at Bellamy and forced aside the cocktail of
hurt and anger and something else
entirely that threatened to consume him.
“But no, go ahead, I’m just your fucking problem.”
Murphy yelped and tried to twist away from Camila’s sudden onslaught, but was
struck down by a kinetic fury. He snarled and lunged, nonplussed by the blood
gushing from his nose and chin, staining the grass haemoglobin red. Most of his
punches missed their mark, but his knuckles eventually bore into her soft flesh
first, then the hard, creaking paster of her cheekbone last. They fought, fast and fierce, exchanging blows in cadence to their heartbeats. Eventually, he was struck down and stayed down. “Get your hands off me, you crazy bitch.”
