i.
Long, uncut hair dances across John's eyes as he watches the stern face of his father fold into a gentle expression. He watches his father's gaze fix itself onto his mother's, before their lips meet and his father slowly caresses his mother's face.
"I love you," his father says in a whisper. John continues to watch in silence. His father is staring at his mother the way that John stares at the stars.
"I love you," his mother quietly replies. Their tones are hushed, but John still hears them. His eyes narrow in puzzlement, and it is in this moment that both of his parents remember their son is in the room.
"John," his father says, laughing, picking his son up and easily placing him on his hip. John giggles, delight dancing in his young, untrained eyes. His mother's laugh soon joins in, and for a moment, they are as perfect as a picture.
The moment dies, as all moments do. "What is love?" John finally asks, his voice high and innocent.
His parents exchange a glance mixed with amusement and panic. "And where is this question coming from?" his father finally says.
"You and mommy said 'I love you.'"
The corners of his father's mouth rise into a grin. "It is a very special thing," he says. "It is something you only say to the people who mean the most to you, who you can't imagine living without."
This takes a while to sink into John's brain, but when it does, he says, "I love you, dad."
The image of his father's tearful smile burns into his brain.
ii.
He makes it a new habit, to tell everyone that he loves them. He tells them for years to come. It isn't a joke to him, but many assume that it is.
John Mbege is the first person John meets that doesn't flinch when he tells them that he loves them. "Thanks, Murphy," he says. "I love you, too."
John Mbege is also the only person on the Ark that John will let call him 'Murphy.' He claims that this is only for convenience, but really, he'll let Mbege call him whatever he wants to.
iii.
Bitten lips brush against each other in the back corner of an abandoned hallway after classes. "I love you," Murphy whispers in between breaths, in between kisses.
"I know," Mbege replies.
iv.
According to a baby-name book that Murphy found underneath the seventh stack in the messy library, the name "John" means to be gracious and merciful.
He thinks, out of himself and Mbege, he doesn't deserve the name.
v.
His fingers are raw from clawing at the box, but it does not open. Instead, the lid of the coffin moves closer and closer towards him, pressing against his chest, pressing against his lungs –
He cannot breathe. He tries to call out, but his voice is far too hoarse for anyone to hear. Death is standing outside of the coffin and he is only waiting to –
Murphy wakes with a start and yells, sweat pouring off his brow, the world blurry and dizzy around him. For a few moments, he loses all sensation, but somehow he knows he keeps yelling as loud as he can.
Someone grabs his shoulders and Murphy is pulled into their chest. Hands grab his and while his body starts to calm down his mind is racing a thousand miles an hour. "John," a voice whispers, inches from his ear. "It's okay, I've got you, I've got you."
His father tightens his grip on John's hands. Chills overtake him, and he curls into his father's chest, eyes shut tight to block out the horribly bright world.
He loses time, or, more accurately, time loses him. When he can hear again, it is his mother's voice that greets him. "He's been sick for so long," she whispers. Tears stain her words.
"I know," his father agrees. "And he's not getting better, he's getting worse…"
"Can't we go see medical again? Maybe Dr. Griffin –"
"We've used our entire ration already," his father interrupts. Silence falls until his father speaks again. "Unless…I could…it's possible that I could get the keys to the cabinet, and then…"
"No," his mother says forcefully. "You'll be floated, and then I'll lose both of you."
Murphy realizes much later that his mother had already resigned herself to the fate of losing her son.
vi.
His father is floated. Murphy sees, for one last instant, that his father is looking at him the way that Murphy looks at the stars.
vii.
Dusty freckles lie beneath him, partnered with smooth skin and musty raven hair. Murphy knows this is bad – he is a guard, he is important, and this boy could lose everything.
Murphy doesn't even know his name, but honestly, it doesn't seem to matter anymore.
Afterwards, when he is buttoning up his blue-collared shirt, Murphy mutters beneath his breath, "Don't think that I love you, or anything."
The boy just laughs and double-checks his uniform is in place. "I wasn't counting on it."
Wordlessly, he exits Murphy's quarters. Murphy walks into the adjoining room to see his drunken mother, sprawled out on the couch, her fingers dancing above the rim of a bottle.
He leaves her there.
viii.
"I loved him."
Murphy pauses and then stops himself from taking the bottle out of his mother's grip. "I know," he says, unsure of how to proceed. She has already had too much for both their lifetimes.
"Do you?" she slurs, shaking. He doesn't move to help. "Do you really? You could have stopped him."
"I didn't know that he was trying to steal medicine for me."
"Well, why'd ya get so sick in the first place?"
Murphy trains his eyes onto the ground. "That wasn't my fault."
"I bet it wasn't," she hisses. "If it really wasn't, then, why haven't you done anything about his death, huh? It's like you don't even care. It's like you don't even care that you killed your father!"
The bottle falls and shatters onto the floor. His mother quickly follows.
ix.
Without a word, he watches the fire in front of him engulf the quarters of the man who turned his father in. The smoke clogs his throat but he doesn't move. Instead, he watches as the entire life of a man, and the man himself, burns in front of him.
"I loved him, too," Murphy finally says, raising his hands in surrender as the guards come and take him away.
x.
It is irony, Murphy thinks, that when they shuttle one hundred children down to the earth, he ends up seated next to Mbege. As the dropship hurtles down towards their new home, the two can only exchange glances, too focused on things that could have been said but never were.
I gave you my name, Murphy thinks. That is all you get from me.
This confrontation is nothing compared to seeing the body with dusty freckles and raven hair for the second time. His name is Bellamy Blake, and he snuck onto the dropship to be with his sister.
If things had been different, Murphy thinks, maybe he would have snuck on here for me.
The two of them lock eyes. Bellamy only nods.
xi.
Bellamy kicks the box out from under his feet, leaving him dangling in the air, helpless, screaming without words. The makeshift rope thrusts into his neck, tightening with every motion Murphy dares to make. "I love you," he says afterwards, and somehow, this makes some of the pain go away. Suddenly, instead of thinking of hanging, he thinks of soft skin lying beneath him on a clean, white bed.
The Grounders torture him for days. "I love you," he says, every time. The Grounders think he's mental. He thinks he's smart, because if his father was right and you love things that you can't live without, then he can't live without torture, and somehow that makes it seem more justified.
He kills two of the ones who voted to kill him when he returns to camp. "I love you," he whispers as he suffocates them.
He doesn't, but he has to say something.
xii.
He has this fantasy of tying a rope around Bellamy's neck, standing him on a box, and then kicking it out from beneath his feet. He'll watch as the older boy struggles, his face turning red, his eyes pleading.
Murphy will make some grand speech, and then Bellamy will die, truly defeated.
He doesn't act on this fantasy. Bellamy shoots him anyways.
xiii.
A hand grabs his arm and he is pulled several feet until his back is pressed against a tree. Lips force themselves onto his, and at first Murphy struggles, but when he catches a glimpse of raven hair he stops. He doesn't want to fight anymore.
Instead, his hands grab Bellamy's shoulders, ripping off the other boy's jacket and then shirt. The same is done to him. The tree is uncomfortable, but the two slide down it anyways.
Murphy doesn't know why this is happening now, but he doesn't question it, because then it might end.
xiv.
"I love you, Dad." Dead.
"I love you, Mom." Dead.
"I love you, Mbege." Dead.
"I love you, Bellamy." He doesn't dare speak the words.
Instead, when all is said and done, he throws his jacket back over his shoulders and gives Bellamy a smug grin. "Don't think that I love you, or anything," he says.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Bellamy sighs. The two go their separate ways.
xv.
He doesn't know how long he spent in the cabin, all by himself, abandoned like always.
He does know that he has officially gone insane.
xvi.
Stars float on Emori's skin. She is beautiful. She is kind, and smart, and resourceful, and more importantly, she accepts Murphy for being as messed up as he is.
"I love you," she whispers. "I love you so, so much."
An internal debate ends with Murphy replying, "I love you, too."
It is many, many months later that she falls and never gets up again.
xvii.
Clarke has Lexa.
Monty has Harper.
Jasper has Raven.
Abby has Kane.
Murphy has – he has –
"You have me," Bellamy whispers, reaching his hand around Murphy's waist. "God, you'll always have me."
That is a promise he can live with.
xviii.
Black rain pours down from the skies. Water ran out days ago. Lakes of fire erupt all around them. It is nuclear fallout, just as Clarke predicted – just as they tried and failed to stop.
Everyone around them is dead.
"I love you," Bellamy says, and Murphy turns to see dusty freckles and messy raven hair only inches from his face.
A smile tugs at Murphy's lips. "I love you, too," he says.
They kiss, and the world ends.