Clarke was aware of many things as she sat near the South gate, one hand resting on the gun by her side. How the shadows cast by the torches on the wall around the camp seemed to skitter across the ground; how no matter how she shifted her body weight, the ground refused to become comfortable; how her ears and fingers were growing numb as a sign of winter approaching. Yes, Clarke Griffin was aware of all of these things and more but none of these was what she was focused on the most. No matter how much she tried to prevent it from happening, her thoughts kept wandering to Finn and the horrible things that he had done, that she had seen him do. She found that the one thing that she could not shake from her mind was the wild look in Finn's eyes when they happened upon him and Murphy standing in the Grounder village or rather, what was left of it. He looked like a wild and desperate animal that held no semblance of morals any longer. This Finn was not the same person that she had first met. The old Finn would never consider killing one Grounder let alone an entire village full!
Her eyes shifted to her companion for that evening's watch and considered how much every one of them had changed when they had been sent to the Earth. Unlike Finn who had clearly been changed for the worst, Murphy had changed for the better. Although she certainly did not trust him yet, she thought that his recent actions might lead him down that road. Despite all of the horrible acts that he had committed, as of late he had been nothing but compassionate and brave. He had tried to stop Finn and talk him down from his murderous rampage and had put his life on the line countless times with seemingly no selfish motive to be found.
"Have you ever heard the phrase 'take a picture cause it will last longer'? Yeah. It seems like it could apply to you," her companion in question ground out without moving a muscle in her direction.
Clarke sighed. Then again, maybe there were some parts of a person's personality which will never change, Murphy's strange brand of humor being one of them. "Why did you do it?"
This made Murphy flick his eyes over to hers. "What are you going on about now?"
"I heard about how you saved Bellamy and Mel. Why?" Clarke had been thinking about what Bellamy had told her when they found the sole survivor of the factory station crash. How Murphy had been helpful in all senses of the word and had, briefly, held their lives solely in his hands. Instead of letting both of them plummet to their deaths, he tried his hardest to save them. Although Murphy had changed since he had come back from being tortured by the Grounders, it wasn't long ago that he had murdered Connor and Miles, shot Raven, and tried to kill Bellamy. Clarke just didn't understand how Murphy's brain worked and she wanted answers.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that 'guard duty' translated to 'twenty questions,' Murphy growled at her, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation.
However, Clarke had survived for this long for a reason. She was stubborn and Murphy's cranky attitude would not deter her.
"Come on, I'm just trying to talk. You said you wanted revenge on Bellamy, revenge on us all. So why would you save two people, one of whom just days ago you were trying to kill?"
"I suppose it didn't cross your mind that not everyone in this camp is dying to speak to you so try not to get offended when I say that I don't want to talk to you about this. Ever. Understand?" Murphy said, running an agitated hand through his hair.
"Alright, alright. Calm down," Clarke huffed. "But you should know that not everyone is trying to attack you or screw you over. I'm just asking because you displayed kindness and bravery. Those are two words I never connected to John Murphy before. I'm just trying to understand you a little better."
Murphy simply rolled his eyes and continued staring out into the night through the gaps in the wall. He was silent for so long that Clarke had begun wallowing in her thoughts of the previous day's events once more. Such as the lifeless bodies of the Grounders in the village and how the hell they were supposed to move forward with the truce now when she was broken out of her reverie by Murphy shifting his body to face hers and speaking so abruptly that she barely suppressed a jump of surprise.
"Fine I'll tell you. You know why? Cause no one else seems to give a damn and talking to you is better than not talking at all. I suppose," he added on unconvincingly. Clarke rolled her eyes once to show that he had her attention.
"I wanted revenge on all of you because you had wronged me. You were convinced that I had murdered Wells and then tried to murder me in return without even talking to me about it first," Murphy said bitterly.
"Your knife was found at the scene. And you hadn't exactly showed Wells any love prior to what happened," Clarke reminded him.
"Almost everyone had it out for Wells because of who his father is! You were the one who confronted me in front of everyone and whipped them all up with your words. It was all because of you," he seethed.
"Hey, I tried to stop them! I never wanted you hanged, I wanted an explanation!" Clarke said. "I begged them to stop what they were doing."
Murphy simply stared at her for a minute before shrugging. "Yeah that was your one saving grace. The only reason that I didn't murder you as soon as I got back. That, and you did heal me and keep Bellamy from killing me," he admitted grudgingly. "But the rest of them? Connor and Miles were two of the people who fit the rope over my head and sentenced me to death. And worst of all, Bellamy stood by and did nothing. I told him over and over that I was innocent and asked him to just hear me out. He knew that they would stop if he asked them to and yet he didn't. Not only did he almost cause my death, he betrayed me in the absolute worst way possible." At this point Murphy had gotten so agitated that his hair was basically on end from the amount of times that he had run his hands through it. Clarke realized vaguely that this was the longest Murphy had ever spoken to her.
"Then, is if that weren't enough, all of you protected the real killer! Yeah I know she was young. Whatever. The fact was, she was the killer and yet all of you still treated me like the bad guy. You banished me and effectively handed me over to the Grounders as their new punching bag," he continued, his finger tracing a long scar on his face in a seemingly unconscious fashion. The contrast between the torches and the shadows threw every scar into bright relief, his lit face littered with long black lines.
Clarke swallowed down a feeling of pity, something she had felt for Murphy only once before when he first appeared bloody and beaten from the Grounder camp. "We had no idea that would happen!" she defended.
"Yeah well you knew that being tossed out on my own wouldn't be all peaches and rainbows either," he snapped back angrily. "You and Bellamy and all the rest effectively condemned me to die and you know it."
"Listen, I'm not saying that we didn't do anything wrong. In a way, I can see why you did what you did," she said haltingly. It was hard to rationalize his actions when he had hurt and killed people that she loved. But when she took her emotions out of it she could see that he had a point. What had happened to him was horrible and wrong; he didn't deserve any of it. How could he not seek revenge for what had happened? Of course, the way that he had gone about this was only perpetuating the violence and hate but still. If that had happened to her she knew that she would feel betrayed and angry too.
He smirked at her. "Well, well, well, as long as the Princess of this camp understands then I guess everything is fine. Anyway, to get back to your original question, I saved Bellamy and that girl because I had already gotten my revenge. I killed Connor and Miles and I made Bellamy feel as helpless and vulnerable as I did. The way I see it, we're even now."
"Come on, that's not the whole story. The old Murphy would have let them fall and you know it," Clarke argued.
Murphy simply shook his head and let out a humorless laugh. "Never pretend that you understand me for a second. And besides, all of us have changed. Just look at Finn."
Clarke flinched at the mention of his name but she knew that he was right. If she had walked into that village when they first arrived on Earth, she knew that Finn's and Murphy's roles would have been reversed. And yet, here they were. She was talking to Murphy without fearing for her life and she couldn't even look Finn in the eye anymore because she was scared of what she would see.
"So basically, you've forgiven everyone because you've gotten the revenge that you came for?" she supplied.
"Not everyone, Princess. I still haven't forgiven you yet," Murphy said as he turned back to face the tree line.
"What? Why not?" Clarke said incredulously.
Murphy shrugged again and took a deep breath. "I just don't think you've suffered enough," he said simply.
0.0.0
Several days later found Murphy standing at the fence line of their camp with the rest of the Arkers as they watched in trepidation how Clarke was going to get Finn out of the mess that he had gotten himself into. Murphy almost snorted at the thought. If he had been the one to murder all of those people you could bet that everyone would have handed him over, no questions asked or bargains made. Hell, Raven had tried and he hadn't even done anything! But then, perhaps he deserved that for shooting her. She needed her revenge after all.
It was all such bullshit. Heaven forbid Saint Finn had to actually pay for what he had done. Not that Murphy wanted Finn to be tortured to death for all hours of the night, especially if he had to sit there and watch. But a little acknowledgement for what he had done would be nice. But no, little Miss Perfect had run over there on what he expected to be a suicide mission just to try to save Finn's sorry ass. She was putting all of them at risk because if Finn didn't die, they would not have a truce and if they didn't have a truce well…. They might as well all go kill themselves now.
Even with all of these thoughts churning through his head, Murphy watched Clarke with the rest of them to see what she would do. Murphy had to admit, she was a good leader. A good healer too. Yet more reasons that he hadn't tried to kill her when he had the chance.
It seemed as though her conversation with Lexa wasn't going well if Clarke's frustrated hang gestures and Lexa's ever stoic expression were anything to go by. Eventually, Clarke moved towards Finn and it was as if the entire camp sucked in a breath at the same time.
Murphy strained his neck to see what was happening but so far it seemed as though Clarke and Finn were just crying, hugging, and kissing each other. Huh. Perhaps Clarke had admitted defeat for once in her life and they were saying goodbye.
Then, as Clarke stepped away, Murphy gasped along with everybody else because even from here he could see Finn's blood rapidly seeping through his shirt and falling to the ground. As he stared at Clarke's bloody hand and the knife clutched in it he realized that she may be the bravest person he has ever known. And as he stared at her tear streaked but determined face, he realized that any revenge he had ever planned for her could never compare to this.
She had suffered enough.