reproached | inbox.

Give me a reason why you didn't tell me about Octavia.

You got a minute?

Hello John, I wanted to check on you to see how you were feeling.

[Bellamy spends probably too much time trying to talk sense into Rey, and the entire thing leaves him frustrated and wrung out. His worry about Octavia never really left, no matter how minute the chance that she's still here is, and everything about this crap just cranks that up tenfold. Eventually, he just gives up, and while he's certain he knows how Clarke and Murphy feel, he's surprised when Murphy doesn't actually speak up in the post.

It doesn't take any effort to find him. Bellamy steps out of the bedroom and Murphy's on the couch with that slightly glazed look in his eyes, the hallmark of using the implant. He crosses the room to join him, shoulder pressing gently into Murphy's when he sits.]

Hey. You see Rey's post?

[Bellamy doesn't come back home or contact Murphy until late that night. Part of it is because of work, sure, but the bigger reason is that he's trying to work this whole thing out in his head, and he's not sure it would be welcome anyway.

The takeaway, from where he stands, is that Murphy doesn't trust him. He trusts him so little that he's afraid enough to sell the rest of the Displaced out. Maybe Bellamy shouldn't be surprised—not after the hanging, not after the banishment, not after the bunker. Despite Bellamy's attempt to hear him out, he'd just made things worse.

So where does that leave them? He's not sure. Murphy still feels like the lowest on the totem pole, and Bellamy doesn't know how to fix it. Maybe the version of him that lived on the Ring for six years, experienced whatever the hell he did up there, would be able to manage it easily. Maybe it isn't that Murphy doesn't trust Bellamy at all—maybe it's that he doesn't trust the version of him he's stuck with here.

When he gets home, he's still mulling over it. There's a sort of restrained disconcerted energy about him when he finds Murphy.]

Can we talk?

[It's a slow enough shift that Kyna is spending more time in back than usual. She and Murphy don't have much to do, and so she's bugging him quite a bit, popping in to sneak food from the line. Their increased proximity means it's almost impossible not to notice how he looks at her when he thinks he's not paying attention. She's picked up on it before, but it was always so brief and inconsistent that she was able to brush it off. Now, it feels glaring.

So she slips behind the line, giving him a nudge with her elbow as she snatches a cherry tomato from one of the wells.]

What? Did I spill something on myself?

[Bellamy wakes up before Murphy does, of course. It means he goes through the utter disorientation of dying on the Volary floor and opening his eyes to find himself back in bed as though nothing happened, and has to scramble to put the pieces together alone. Clarke helps, because of course she does. She always does. But Bellamy doesn't head to Red Wings. He can', not when Murphy isn't back yet. The thought of Murphy dying and finding himself alone is horrific when Bellamy knows all too well how afraid of death he is.

So he stays, and paces, going back and forth, back and forth, between the bedroom and the living area, nervous energy and worry shoving his own trauma to the back of his mind. All he can do is hope that it's quick, and make sure he's here.]

Hey. You working tonight?

@bellamy.blake | the day after all those fun talks

@bellamy.blake