"Even"
Lucawindmover
John Murphy slumped against the cold metal of the Ark station, face in his hands as he stared out into the darkness. He was by Raven's gate if for no other reason than he was feeling masochistic tonight. It wasn't as if he'd been looking for her because he hadn't been. And it wasn't as if he really wanted to talk to her because he didn't, necessarily. He couldn't understand what had prompted him to choose this area of camp to take a time-out other than that it was quiet and free of the glares and muttering he'd become accustomed to.
Two days. It had been two days since she had tried to offer him up to the Grounders instead of Finn. Two days since that silent trek through the forest, back to Camp Jaha after their ridiculous attempt to save the condemned. Two days since Finn had died and Raven had lost her shit.
He honestly had no desire to talk to the bitch. Yet here he was, camped out in her section of the gate, knowing she would happen by at some point. She'd been the only person from their group who hadn't been party to trying to hang him. She hadn't turned him in to Kane and Abby when she'd had the chance. They weren't friends by any stretch of the imagination. But he'd had reason to think she was alright. At least by comparison to the rest of the people he knew. And how wrong he had been in that conclusion.
Her footsteps were distinct, thanks to the brace on her leg, and he could hear her coming from a mile away. But he didn't turn to face her, choosing to keep staring forward with his elbows propped on his knees and his hands under his chin.
"Murphy," she called as she neared. "I need to talk to you."
"Save it," he responded as she moved up and stopped a few feet away. "I don't wanna hear it."
"Hear what?"
He shrugged and leaned his head back against the metal wall. "Whatever bullshit apology you scraped together," he said, and then in a mocking voice, "I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice. It was you or him. Fucking bullshit is what it is."
He turned his eyes a little, taking in her stance. She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to the side and while he hadn't known her long, he knew that stance meant trouble. "I didn't come over here to give you a damn apology," she seethed. "I don't owe you anything."
"And why's that? Because I shot you?"
"Hell yes because you shot me," she spat, her voice getting hot. "What, you think you can feed me some kind of sad sob story and make me forget that you put a bullet in my spine?"
Murphy snickered and turned his head toward her, making eye contact for the first time in days. Two days. But who was counting? "So you were just gonna let them kill me? Torture me to death?"
Raven raised an eyebrow and shrugged one shoulder, her face unreadable.
"Un-fucking-believable," he muttered, shaking his head.
"And why is it so unbelievable, huh?" she said with a gesture toward him. "When you were almost hanged, you came back and killed some of the instigators. Killed them. How is what I did so much worse?"
"You know what, it's not," Murphy answered. "Congratulations. You're just like me now. That's gotta sting."
Raven looked as if she'd just been slapped, as if it had just occurred to her that she'd played dirty, that she'd done something that he would do. Murphy had expected this to feel like a victory, pulling her down off her high horse. But it didn't. It didn't feel like much of anything.
"It's not fair," she said finally, shaking her head. "You're alive and he's dead. That's not fair. And now I have to see you every fucking day. A damn walking, talking reminder that Finn is dead." Her voice was cracking by the end and Murphy felt his jaw clench.
"You blame me for that, don't you? Like somehow I could've stopped him. Like I could've ripped that gun out of his hands or talked some sense into him or some shit. I don't think you get it. Finn lost his fucking mind over Clarke. You're blaming the wrong goddamn person."
"You think I don't blame Clarke?"
"I think you don't blame Finn," Murphy said, noticing that she couldn't keep his eye contact any more. "You want to blame me for not stopping him or Clarke for doing the deed but it's Finn's fault. It's Finn's damn fault he died and you don't want to blame him because you loved him."
Her cheeks were damp. He could see that wetness glistening in the dark, reflecting the lights from the Ark and from the perimeter of the camp. And he was pissed but he could feel his own eyes hot with moisture and he wasn't sure who those tears were for. He turned away from her and leaned his head back again, blinking up at a sky full of stars.
Raven limped forward and surprised the hell out of him by taking a seat beside him. She dashed her hands over her cheeks before dropping them into her lap, her bad leg stretched out in front of her.
"You're right," she said.
He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.
Eventually she sighed. "So now what?" she asked. "You gonna come find me in the night and suffocate me for wanting to turn you over?"
He shrugged. "I thought about it."
"Why haven't you?"
He turned to look at her but she was gazing off into the night, much the same way he'd been doing before she showed up. "Because if I wanted to make you suffer for that, I figured killing you wouldn't be the way to do it."
She pulled her eyes away from the parameter and met his in the dark. "It wouldn't?"
"Nope," he said. "It would put you out of your misery. Your life is suffering right now. If you thought coming over here and stirring shit up with me would somehow make me want to end that for you, you're wrong."
"You're an asshole."
"I been called worse."
"Like what?" she sneered. "Murderer?"
He sighed and pushed himself to his feet, dusting his hands on the front of his jeans. "Yeah," he said, thinking about his mother's final words to him before she died. "Like murderer."
A/N: Special thanks to Marina Black1. Our mutual love of Murphy brought this scene to life. Check out her story "Walking Through Fire" if you're a fan of good storytelling and Murphy.