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[reproached]

@john.murphy | ■ ▲ ◌ ▼

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[reproached]

I don't know. Maybe.

[ Murphy isn't nearly as bothered by that possibility. It's not his point. ]

We are who we are and this is what we've got. For now. Maybe forever. I'm good with that. I'll take that risk.

[jettisons]

You're fine with the risk of someone you consider family leaving you for dead?

[reproached]

What should I do instead? Beg people to love me? Tell them to prove it? My own mother couldn't stand to look at me. By the time we got sent to the ground, there wasn't a single person who cared if I was alive, because the only one who ever did got floated for it.

You've always been worth something to someone. Not all of us are that lucky.

[jettisons]

[It's true. He has. And to be honest, he understands why Murphy was such a loose cannon at first on the ground. His reasons aren't so different from Bellamy's. The difference is, Bellamy had Octavia. Murphy had no one. That year where Octavia was locked up and he had nothing had been one of the hardest in his life.]

You're right. I have always had someone. But you're not worthless to me, Murphy, and you're not worthless to Clarke. If the empathy bond hasn't helped you figure that out, there's nothing I can do to convince you.

[reproached]

You don't have to convince me. I know I'm not worthless to you.

[ His grip on Bellamy's arm loosens, like he's thinking about activating the bond just to prove it. There's so much ugliness going around in his head, though, that he'd probably be torturing Bellamy, if he did. ]

But I'm not worth selling your soul. That's a price that's too high for you. Always.

[jettisons]

[His eyes lock on Murphy's, and he doesn't pull away. "Selling his soul" is an odd way to put it. Bellamy still considers himself someone who struggles to do the right thing, who needs other people to keep him level. That's faded a bit since Clarke stole the bunker and he learned all those details about his future, but it's still there.

But that isn't really the point. Murphy is the point.]

Does that make you feel less safe here?

[reproached]

I feel as safe as I ever do.

[ Which is... none. Bellamy surely knows that. ]

What are you really trying to ask me?

[jettisons]

[He does. It's really just confirmation. What he's actually asking is harder to simplify, and he glances down for a moment, considering.]

I want to know how I can make this easier on you.

[reproached]

[ Well. That's not what Murphy thought Bellamy would say. He stares for a moment, fumbling with the response. Because the answer isn't "nothing". There's probably a whole lot Bellamy could do, but Murphy hasn't thought about it, given the overall futility of ever asking anyone to consider his needs. ]

What, like, pinky swear you'll never tie me up and throw me in the closet? Promise I'll never have a gun to my head? If I told you I'm ratting out every single Displaced tomorrow, you can't say you wouldn't do anything you possibly could to stop me.

[jettisons]

Like you tried to stop me from opening the bunker, or letting Echo keep her suit? There's plenty of things you would try to stop me from doing. That isn't what I mean.

[reproached]

So what do you mean?

[jettisons]

You always feel like you have to make the decisions the rest of us won't consider. You always feel like your back is against the wall. I don't want you to feel that way.

[And yes, Bellamy and Clarke have been there more than once, but for Murphy, it seems constant.]

[reproached]

[ With good reason. But Murphy's beginning to understand what exactly is bothering Bellamy about all this. ]

You want me to know you have my back.

[jettisons]

Yes.

[He thought that was obvious with all their arguments about Clarke, but maybe not.]

[reproached]

[ Murphy shifts his position, leaning up against Bellamy's shoulder. He probably doesn't have to explain why it's impossible for him to believe that. Forgiving isn't the same thing as forgetting. He can see what Bellamy's looking for, though, and he's pretty sure that's something he can give honestly. ]

You know, even with these stupid nightmares, sleeping next to you is the best sleep I've ever had in my life. I used to wake up every couple hours. Every little noise.

[jettisons]

[He lets out a quiet sound of disbelief, but leans into Murphy anyway.]

Yeah?

[It's a nice thing to say, of course, but he wants to know where Murphy's going with it.]

[reproached]

And anytime I'm scared, anytime something goes wrong, you're the one I look for.

[ Murphy's hand glides up Bellamy's bicep and gives it a light squeeze. ]

I see your face and it's like this weight comes off me and I can breathe.

[jettisons]

[Now that makes Bellamy's heart twist. He was raised to be a protective person out of pure necessity, and while the weight of that is sometimes overwhelming, the idea that someone he cares about so deeply wouldn't feel fully safe around him is crushing. Even if Murphy can't truly feel safe around anyone, this means more, coming from him. It might be a slightly different kind of trust than what Bellamy experiences, but it's still trust. He hesitates for a second, then turns his head to press a kiss against Murphy's temple, wrapping an arm around him.]

I don't want you to feel like you're alone. That's all.

[reproached]

[ Murphy loops his arms around Bellamy's waist, settling up against him. He returns the gesture with a kiss to Bellamy's jaw, and despite his general uneasiness, the strongest emotion that's radiating from him is trust. He feels safe right now, grateful that Bellamy came to him, sorry for doubting him earlier. ]

I don't feel alone with you.

[jettisons]

Good.

[He's more relaxed now and clearly relieved, but the conversation isn't quite over yet.]

So why do you have to be the one to 'sell your soul'?

[reproached]

[ Murphy lays his cheek on Bellamy's shoulder. ]

Is that a trick question?

[jettisons]

No. I want to know how you feel about it.

[reproached]

I'm the one who has to because I'm the one who will.

[jettisons]

Are you fine with that? Does it bother you?

[Because those choices bother Bellamy every single day.]

[reproached]

Bothers me less than dying. Or letting you die.