His vow of silence had since lasted five days. About the last time he had spoken to her was when he'd threatened to rip out her throat if she got in his way to kill Jasper. Which she had, of course; she wasn't about to let Murphy near enough to murder the boy that had been brought back from the dead. But yeah. She had judo chopped him in the throat, and he refused to acknowledge her existence now. Not that she minded, really, as she had gotten used to Murphy not talking to her—the last year and a half had done wonders for her tolerance.
However, he was becoming increasingly annoying, and Auden could sense the tension in the group. They were itching to castrate him, which she could understand, seeing as asking for water got you peed on. Connor was shouting, Murphy was laughing, and at just the right time, since good old Bellamy wasn't there to step in the middle of things, Auden inserted herself between the pair.
"Stop it, you two," she demanded, giving them both a severe Glare. She had learned it from Murphy himself, and it made Connor recoil slightly. He huffed and went back to finishing up the wall with the others, leaving Auden standing off to Murphy. "You're an idiot, you know that, don't you?" she asked, folding her arms.
He answered with a sneer and turned away, instructing everyone to get back to work rather loudly. Auden had to stop herself from shaking some sense into him and settled for finding the Spacewalker. He was always ready to explore the forest surrounding them.
Finn had just returned with a bucket of water and he was emptying it in the crude well when Auden came trouncing up to him. "Hey," he said, carding a hand through his hair and pushing it off his face. "What'cha up to? Not squaring off with Murphy again, are you?" When Auden didn't respond, Finn sighed and gave her a look. "Come on, how about we sneak outta this place for a while? Don't worry about Bellamy," he added, knowing that that was her usual argument, "we'll be back before he has the chance to miss you."
"I'm never worried about Bellamy," she returned, and lead the way out of the camp, with a smirking Finn coming up behind her. "I don't like your little insinuations, either, Spacewalker. Regardless of what you may think, we're just good friends."
"Oh, definitely," he said, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his features, smacking foliage out of his way. "I'm just saying that he's overprotective of you."
Auden rolled her eyes. "You mean like he is with Octavia? I'm like his sister, okay? I've been friends with him since I was five-years-old. I've lived next door to him my whole life. He's always been an overprotective, overbearing, righteous, bossy big brother. Alright?"
Finn chuckled, and watched her jump over a massive tree root, not stumbling at all when her feet found the ground again. "You two are certainly close," he agreed, nodding, and stopping when she whirled on him.
"I'm the only one he ever told about Octavia," she snapped. "I helped him steal rations for her, and I brought my poetry to her for years. Okay? We're just best friends, Finn."
Looking certifiably chastised, Finn nodded, and let the subject go, taking the lead. "Alright, since I know Bellamy isn't the reason you wanted to go exploring so badly, why don't you tell what is?"
Auden eyed his back suspiciously. "Where are we going?" she inquired, glancing around and noticing the well-trodden path they were walking on. The Grounders would never leave such a permanent mark on the earth, which meant that Finn had walked this trail before, probably even made it.
"The Art Supply Store," he replied succinctly. "But you don't get to avoid questions. You're the one who came looking for me to get your mind off whatever's bothering you. Spill, Shakespeare."
Groaning, Auden met his amused grin. "Oh, gross, please tell me that's not going to stick. You're the third person to call me that today. I really do you hadn't ever called me that." She gave him a distasteful look when he just laughed, and then her nose crinkled. "And the Art Supply Store? What've you been eating? There's no stores out here, just woods and—"
Finn pushed a finger to her lips, effectively silencing her, and his brows shot north. "You're talking too much, Auden," he told her, and pulled his hand away before she managed to sink her teeth into the offending appendage. "And it's your own fault for being such a prestigious poetess." He winked, and she shook her head. "You'll see about the Art Supply Store when we get there, okay? Now tell me about Murphy already, I'm getting bored." He flashed her a cheeky look, and Auden, not for the first time, but one of the most important, was glad that she became friends with Finn.
"It's just... I knew him on the Ark, before he was sent to Lockup. We met when we were twelve. He said that he thought poetry was stupid, which, obviously, I didn't take very well—" she exchanged a grin with Finn "—but I realized it was just because he didn't get it. And—"
"And you beat him with a collection of Shakespeare's sonnets, right?" Finn asked eagerly, and then shot her an I'm only joking look. "You guys don't seem very friendly, though."
Auden nodded solemnly. "When his mom died, he kind of went off the deep end and started doing low-level crimes. Stealing something here, taking another there. He was pretty good at not getting caught, I have to admit. He made different friends, stopped talking to me. Stopped looking at me." She cleared her throat, which had gotten thick with emotion, and avoided Finn's eyes. "And then he did something that couldn't be undone, and it was the Sky Box for him."
"That's a shame, Auden, it is, but it doesn't really explain why he's not talking to you," Finn said. "Shouldn't this be like a great big reunion with—with hugs and I don't know, friendship?"
Shrugging, Auden ducked under a low hanging branch and came to a stop next to Finn by a massive bush. "I was spending lots of time with Octavia when his mom died, borrowing all the saved works of Emily Dickinson—that was her favorite, she loved the nature ones—and I had to find out through the grapevine what had happened. By then, he had just about been done entirely with me. I tried to...say something, you know, but he just pretended I didn't exist. Walked right by me, eyes straight ahead, like I really hadn't been there."
Finn stared at her contemplatively, though tentatively, wondering vaguely if she was going to cry—he didn't know much to do with a crying girl. After a solid minute of staring at the ground, however, Auden lifted her head and smiled brightly at him, though he didn't miss her splotchy cheeks.
"Well," is what she said, "show me about this Art Supply Store already, I'm getting bored." Finn was glad he had made friends with Auden, too.
While the Spacewalker brushed aside a few leaves and some excellently-placed moss, Auden gathered herself and forced her mind to stop all thoughts of Murphy from entering her forefront focus. She morphed her face into one of skepticism and doubt when Finn pried back the door to a hatch, it seemed, and offered her to go in first. "Oh, a gentleman," she joked, but went down the short metal ladder with Finn at her heels, shutting the door behind her. "This isn't where you murder me, is it?"
"Not yet," he quipped, brushing past her and whirling around in the middle of what Auden could only describe it as a bunk of sorts. There were metal shelves lining the walls, a couple bunk beds with ratty, moth-eaten blankets, and a whole lot of garbage. Finn was beaming, though, so she mustered up a saucy smile.
"Your Art Supply Store is a bomb shelter? Weak, Spacewalker," she said and plowed deeper into the bunker, finding a shelf full of she didn't even know what, running her fingers along the dust-ridden metal.
Finn stifled a chuckle and reached for something he had stuffed under one of the disgusting duvets on the lower bunk. "If you think it's weak, I guess you won't want this," he said, and knew it was too enticing for Auden not to turn around. When she did, her eyebrows furrowed and she came close enough to touch.
"What is it?" she asked, and he laughed.
"A journal, you dummy."
Auden gave him a foul look and turned her gaze back to the notebook. "I know that, you terrible excuse of a boy, but what am I supposed to do with it? Why are you giving it to me?" she asked, and he smiled.
"So you can write poetry, of course," he said, and then felt for something in his back pocket. "Except you'll need this as well, probably." As soon as Finn had brandished the pencil, Auden had snatched it, along with the journal, from his hands. She turned her back to him and ran her fingers over the worn binding.
"Amazing," she breathed, opening the notebook and flipping through the empty pages. "It's lasted nearly a century and it's still in perfect condition. This...This is...absolutely brilliant. Finn, thank you."
He shrugged. "I figured you could use it to write down all that poetry floating around in your brain. Now that you can't read through books anymore, you can take everything down, and maybe write something of your own. The unpublished works of Auden Brooks." Finn was grinning again, and Auden stopped short of flinging her arms around him for a hug, instead settling for eyes swimming with unshed tears and a smile worth millions.
"I bet you Clarke would kill for one of those pencils," she said offhandedly, looking up at him through her eyelashes, knowing enough about the girl to know how much she loved drawing—a past time that had kept her sane during her year in solitary confinement.
Finn nodded. "Yeah, I know, I gave her one earlier." Auden cut him a sly look, and silently clapped for him. He certainly knew how to win over the ladies, that was for sure. "What's that look for?"
Auden sniffed, bumping shoulders with him as she went for the staircase. "Oh, nothing, just that you totally like the Princess."
The boy looked only mildly shocked, and if he had been any other boy, would have spluttered that of course I don't that lets you know they, in fact, very much do, but Finn didn't splutter. He just managed a disbelieving glance. "What do you know, Shakespeare?" he asked, and she belted a laugh, allowing him to lead her on the winding pathway back to the camp after he had covered up the bunker.
"Because I'm not blind, Spacewalker. No, no—even if I was blind, I'd be able to tell!" she teased, slapping his shoulder playfully. "Oh, and cut it out with the nickname, I hate it."
Finn appeared affronted at her taunts, which just made Auden laugh harder. She didn't mean to piss on him so much, but it had been too long since she had been able to just laugh and laugh, even if he wasn't laughing with her. The ground didn't prove for very jovial times, as it had only been last week that Jasper had gotten a spear to the chest.
"I'm sorry, Finn, h-honest, but you were even chatting her up on the drop ship before you smashed into me! Speaking of, what've you done with that mangy beanie, because—"
Finn shushed her by slapping a hand over her mouth, cutting her off mid-sentence. Several thoughts of maiming slipped through her mind, but washed away when she heard the chanting up ahead. When Finn peeled his hand away, they exchanged a look. "Does that sound like...?"
"Like Bellamy's name? Yeah," Auden said, and stuffed the notebook in the waistband of her jeans and pinned up her hair with an elastic before spearing the bun with the pencil. Dashing forward, a creeping sense of dread rising within, the pair came upon the sight of a public hanging, so it seemed. Everyone had gathered around a solid tree and right in the middle was a boy with his mouth gagged and his hands tied, swinging freely and jerking frantically.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Finn yelled, shoving through the crowd, Auden at his heels, gaping up at the boy. He was covered in mud and his own blood, and with that safety belt tied between his lips, he was looking very indistinguishable. "Cut him down!" When Finn broke apart Jasper and Monty, though, Auden knew immediately who it was.
"Murphy!" she shouted, bolting past Finn and straight for a wriggling Murphy. She grappled for his legs, trying to hold him up, but he wouldn't stop kicking, and she nearly got a boot to the head before she gave up on her efforts. "Someone cut him down!" Auden yelled, and found Bellamy's familiar face. "What are you doing?! Cut him down!" When Bellamy just pursed his lips, she turned her rage to Clarke, who was begging for the same thing.
"Just stop, okay?" someone hollered, and they all turned in unison to stare at a thirteen-year-old girl, her shoulders heaving. "Murphy didn't kill Wells! I did!"
Clarke muttered something that Auden couldn't hear over the pounding in her ears and before Auden's slender fingers could grab it, she practically ripped the hatchet from Bellamy's belt and seconds later, Murphy plummeted to the ground. Auden was at his side in milliseconds, yanking the cord off his neck, and he sucked in a rasping, choking breath. She pulled him to a sitting position by his shoulders and wrapped her arms around him in one swift motion.
He hadn't let Auden clean the blood off. As soon as they had undone his hands and migrated to the camp, he had made himself the head of the group, waiting for Charlotte's head on a platter. Auden had forced herself into the tent with Bellamy, Clarke, Finn, and Charlotte, and was nearly mad enough to begin pacing.
"I was just trying to slay my demons, like you told me," Charlotte said to Bellamy, and Auden wished the buzzing in her ears would die down, it was making it hard to focus.
"She misunderstood me," Bellamy told Clarke when the blonde—who was livid, by the way—barked a question. "Charlotte, that is not what I meant." Auden's mouth opened to say something, but she was interrupted by a shout from Murphy outside the tent.
Charlotte was in tears. "Please don't let them hurt me," she begged, and Auden stared hard at the girl who had apparently killed Wells Jaha, a boy of eighteen and over six-feet tall. And she had stolen Murphy's knife to do it. No, maybe the others were sold on the innocent act, but Auden was buying what Charlotte was selling.
"If you guys have any bright ideas, speak up."
This was what made Auden's mouth open, finally. "Why is it that you have no problem dishing out Murphy's fate without any hard evidence, but when someone actually confesses to the crime, you protect them?" She received a bewildered look from Clarke and a hard one from Bellamy, but refused to back down, or break eye contact with the boy she had known for most of her life.
"They found his knife by Wells's—"
"Now is not the time for this, Auden—"
"Then when is the time for it, Bellamy?" she asked, folding her arms. "Was it when you were in the middle of hanging an innocent person, whether or not the aforementioned may be an ass? Or was it when you gave advice to a criminal—because that's why she's down here, Bell—to slay her demons? Are you kidding me?"
"That is not what I meant when I told her that!"
"It doesn't matter! It's what she took it to mean! And now Wells is dead, and Murphy is out for blood because you unjustly tried to hang him." Auden's eyes were blazing, and she realized then that things with Bellamy weren't going to be the same after this.
Another shout from Murphy brought a cry to Charlotte's lips and Bellamy bent low to whisper to the girl after giving Auden a searing look. It certainly got the proper effect, as Auden turned away, brushing her bangs off her face, and ignoring the gazes of both Clarke and Finn. They knew it wasn't fair, right?
Bellamy ducked out of the tent after issuing Charlotte to stick with Clarke and Finn. Auden followed a few paces behind, eyes jerking away from the blood on Murphy's face when they got close. "Dial it down and back off," Bellamy demanded, which only made Murphy step forward until they were toe-to-toe. Auden, just behind Bellamy's right shoulder, could see the streaks of blood mixing with the mud. Murphy, like he must have practiced, didn't even glance at her out of his peripheral.
"Or what?" Murphy hissed. "What are you gonna do about me? Hang me?" Auden could smell the injustice, could smell the hatred and unfairness radiating off Murphy in waves. The burning in his eyes was fierce, and, for once, Auden was glad it wasn't focused on her.
"I was just giving the people what they wanted," Bellamy said, his voice firm and even, and decidedly steady. She wasn't surprised, Bellamy had always had a way with words and with deliverance. She just wished that he hadn't so utterly fucked things up with that line.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's a good idea." Murphy swung around to the rest of the group, missing a step slightly, though no one but Auden noticed. She was stunned that Murphy was even walking; after being string up by your neck for at least a couple minutes had to have given him not only a blazing headache and a bit of a disconnection with the rest of his body. He really should lie down. "So who here wants to see the real murderer hung up?"
In addition to his hand raising, several of his friends—including the blasted John Mbege, the Murphy had ditched her for—raised their hands, but everyone remained unmoving. Auden was still, not because she wasn't on Murphy's side, but because she didn't want public hangings to be what they did down here.
"I see," Murphy muttered, and Auden sidestepped around Bellamy, jerking out of his grasp when he reached for her arm. "So it's okay to string me up for nothing, but when this little bitch confesses, you wanna let her walk?" She could hear the emotion in his voice, covered by a thick wall of fury as he glared at the silent crowd that had been cheering for his death not even half an hour before. "Cowards! All of you, cowards!"
"Hey, Murphy! Murphy!" Bellamy strode forward until he was inches from Murphy's face, his height allowing him to look down slightly at him. "It's over."
Murphy swallowed, his eyes falling to the ground. He lowered his arms. "Whatever you say, boss," he said, sounding properly resigned. Auden's brows rose, which only shot higher when, upon Bellamy's back turning—always a bad idea, Bell—Murphy had lurched at him with a log, effectively knocking him out cold, right at Auden's feet.
This, of course, jump-started Octavia and Auden, the latter of which leapt over Bellamy's unconscious body and lunged at Murphy's back. Jasper had swerved in front of her Octavia, earning him a fist to the face courtesy of Murphy, but no one was able to shield Auden when Murphy's arm recoiled from his punch at Jasper to elbow the offender behind him. She caught it to the face, yelping, and promptly fell on her face, clutching her now bloody nose. Murphy spared several silent seconds of staring at her, an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes before he glanced at his bad-boy brigade. "Come on. Let's get the girl." Mbege and the others moved into action and they hefted up the front flap of the tent, only to find it void of company. This sent Murphy into a livid flurry, and he released it on, surprisingly, Auden. "Where'd they go?" he asked, voice rising, but shockingly calm. "Huh? Where?!"
Wishing she had had the chance to get to her feet before Murphy rounded on her, Auden shook her head. "I—I don't know," she stammered, and then straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I don't know, Murphy," she repeated, steady tone reminiscent of the one and only Bellamy Blake. "Let it go, okay? These idiots were eager to see you die not thirty minutes ago, and they're not going to go for executing a little girl." Before he could cut her off, she hastily added, "It was wrong. I know that. But you've already got a lot of people gunning for your demise. Don't make it worse."
He spared her a sneer before shouting out for Charlotte and stalking off to the woods, his cronies right behind him and thirsty for blood.
Night had fallen by the time Bellamy had finally woken up. It had taken lots of shouting, several cups of water to the face, slaps, but mostly waiting. He was slow to come to, and Auden eased him into it, reiterating the details of what had last happened before he'd been assaulted, though she left out the last bit of the brawl. Bellamy, keen as always, asked about the dried blood smeared across her face.
"Oh, um, right after you got knocked out, everyone kinda jumped into action and I caught an elbow to the nose," she hurriedly explained while simultaneously pulling him to his feet, and Bellamy sighed tiredly.
"You mean Murphy elbowed you," he amended, and when Auden failed to dispute this, he sighed again. "I don't get you, Auden. The guy doesn't talk to you for nearly two years, and when he does, all he is is a jerk to you." The pair headed deeper into the forest, where, not far off, they could see the gleam of firelight.
Auden shook her head, speeding up when Murphy started shouting for Charlotte to come out of hiding. "You don't get it, Bell," she told him. "Everyone in the world has given up on him. I'm not going to do the same."
Bellamy said nothing, and they silently swerved toward a movement at his left—Charlotte. Murphy and the rest of them were farther left—Auden could clearly see their torches—and briefly wondered how this would all end, because it had to eventually, and it wasn't going to be good.
"I'm trying to help you," Bellamy whispered, his arm unwrapping from Charlotte's waist.
Charlotte turned her tear-stained face to him; the moonlight caught the tracks very well. "I'm not your sister so stop helping me!" Then, turning toward the torches, she yelled, "Over here!" to which Bellamy stoppered her mouth with his hands.
"Are you trying to get us both killed?" he snapped.
"Just go, okay? I'm the one they want."
Auden bent down a hair to see eye level with Charlotte, who flinched away. "Charlotte, we're not going to leave you to that angry mob, alright? Let us help," she said, testing the truth of her words. No, she didn't want Charlotte dead for all the mess she had caused, but she wanted justice, and she knew she wasn't going to get it.
"I know you hate me," Charlotte mumbled, lowering her eyes. "You're right to blame me for what they did to Murphy. It's all my fault." Cleverly avoiding the look she was receiving from Bellamy, Auden decided not to say anything more and let Bell throw Charlotte over his shoulders. With no words between them other than Charlotte's screams, they darted away from the torches until they were stopped by a cliff.
There was a mysterious cloud of fog creeping at the apparent bottom of the cliff, and Auden's bones shuddered. "Fuck," he swore, and set Charlotte on the ground.
The dreaded torches had finally caught up with them, and Murphy appeared out of the foliage. "Bellamy. You can't fight all of us. Give her up."
Auden met Bellamy's eyes for the first time that night where she hadn't felt any resentment towards him. He was just doing what he thought was right. He was only twenty-three. He doesn't know what he's doing. "Maybe not," he said, voice commanding. "But I guarantee Auden and I'll take a few of you with us."
That was how it was supposed to be, her and Bellamy against the world, Octavia behind the both of them. Except right then it was Charlotte behind them, and they weren't against the world, but matched with an angry horde of teenage criminals. With fire.
And if it was worth anything, it made Murphy's eyes slide over Auden.
"Bellamy!" Clarke shouted, breaking through the forest with Finn on her tail. "This has gone too far. Just calm down. We'll talk about this." Turning to look at Murphy got her snatched into his grasp, crude knife pressed loosely to her jugular. Auden jolted forward instinctively and was yanked back by Bellamy.
"I'm sick of listening to you talk," he snarled, and stiffened when Bellamy inched closer. "I will slit her throat."
No, you won't, Auden wanted to say, but found that her throat was too thick to make out anything more than a low growl. Distantly, she heard Charlotte begging Murphy, but not much else. His reply, however, snapped Auden out of her reverie.
"You come with me right now, I will let her go."
"You're not going to hurt her, Murphy," said a voice, and Auden was surprised to find that it was her own. "We'll decide what happens fairly and justly— precisely what didn't happen with you." She gave him a look, one that she had given him before, and he momentarily stilled before squeezing Clarke tighter.
Charlotte wiped away a tear that dripped down her cheek. "I can't let any of you get hurt anymore," she muttered. "Not because of me. Not after what I did." And then she turned around, and jumped off the cliff.
Due to pure shock, Murphy released Clarke, who cried after the girl at Bellamy's side, and stared on with horror written across his face. He hadn't meant for this. Auden stumbled away from the cliff, now wary of getting too close, just in time to see Bellamy get to his feet and stomp toward Murphy, who was rapidly backing up. In the split second that passed before Bellamy pitched himself at Murphy, Auden saw his fists curling, and threw herself between them. Bellamy, however, was already plowing forward and didn't have time to stop. Still, though, finding herself on the ground once more was curious enough to make her wonder who the other end of the shove she had received.
Auden didn't bother contemplating this, rather hurled herself at the boys and delivering a sound punch to Bellamy's jaw to get him off of Murphy, who was even bloodier than before. Clarke pulled Bell away and smacked his chest lightly. "We don't decide who lives and dies! Not down here! You were right, sometimes it's dangerous to tell people the truth, but if we're gonna survive down here, we can't just live by whatever the hell we want. We need rules."
Bellamy snorted. "And who makes those rules? You?"
"For now, we make the rules," she said softly. "Okay?" While they were the best matched of the group and probably the most stable, Auden was still skeptical of the pair of them leading a society of teenagers.
"So, what, then?" Bellamy inquired, gesturing at Murphy, who was still on his back, the ground unforgiving. Auden was knelt beside him, looking up at him, though he cleverly avoided her eyes. His jaw was already beginning to swell, and a bruise was blossoming over her knuckles. "We just take him back and pretend like it never happened?"
"No! We banish him."
"You can't be serious." Auden was on her feet in less than a second. "Banish him? For what? You guys try to hang him, protect the real murderer, and then when she offs herself, you're still out for his blood? Have you got any sense at all?"
For once, it wasn't Bellamy that tried to square off with her, but Finn. "She was just a kid, Auden."
"She was a murderer, Finn," she growled. "She killed Wells, and she used Murphy's knife to do it. You two bleeding idiots—" this she directed at Clarke and Bellamy "—go in and try to, what, serve justice? You nearly executed an innocent person!"
"He's not innocent, he's a criminal," Bellamy snapped.
"I don't know if you've noticed, Bellamy Blake, but everyone here is a criminal."
"Enough!" Clarke shouted. "It's decided, we're banishing him. Okay?" She said this last bit quietly in Auden's direction, a weak attempt to quell the girl into silence. Which she did, incidentally, but it was because she knew no one would back her up and, therefore, her argument had sunk.
Bellamy jerked Murphy to his feet and issued one last threat to him about coming back to the camp, and gave a warning to the rest of the bad boy brigade before they all trailed off, darkness encompassing again as they took the torches with them. "Hurry up, Auden!" Bellamy called over his shoulder, and she stuck her tongue out at his back. Finn was the only one that had stayed behind with her, and dropped a knife for Murphy. Then he gave her a look she couldn't see in the darkness, and walked off.
Auden took out the elastic in her hair and shook it out, fingering the pencil. "You're an idiot, you know that, John Murphy?"
"Why do you even care?" he bit, which stunned her. She hadn't thought he would say anything.
"Just because you don't care about me anymore doesn't mean I don't still care about you," she said softly, kneeling on the ground and then sitting cross-legged. "It's not just a switch you can turn on and off."
Murphy grabbed the blade that Finn had left for him and stabbed it into the ground angrily. "Why are you even talking to me? Why don't you just go back to all your friends and celebrate that I'm gone now?"
Auden sighed and pulled out her notebook. After a quick glance up at the sky, she laid down on her back. "Do you still remember that W.H. Auden poem I used to read you about the stars? We'd stay out till curfew at one of the bay windows, just looking at space. That's one of the only poems I can still recite by heart."
There was a moment of silence between them, in which Murphy finally collapsed to the ground and heaved a pained sigh. Auden stole a glance at him when he was staring hard up at the sky and her eyes raked over the cord marks on his neck. They were angry and red, already beginning to bruise. "The More Loving One," Murphy said quietly, and Auden smiled.
"Looking up at the stars, I know quite well," Auden replied, "That, for all they care, I can go to hell." When Murphy didn't recite the next couple lines, she realized that they hadn't done that in almost two years, and smiled sadly.
"Why are you doing this?" His voice was rough and Auden wondered if the hoarseness from getting hanged was causing it. "Why do you still talk to me when all I've been is an ass to you?"
Auden could feel her heart clench, and she clasped her notebook tighter to her chest. "Because friends don't give up on each other, Murphy." She didn't give him a chance to say anything before she got to her feet, immediately pulling him up as well—much to his surprise. "Come on, I know a place where you can stay the night, because we both know it's definitely not safe to sleep in these woods."
"I don't want you to get in any trouble. Not...Not for me."
This only caused Auden's smile to widen, and she stepped closer, until she was able to just about guess that he was wearing a downcast expression. Using a bit of her after-midnight-courage, she grasped one of his hands loosely. She silently thanked the heavens above that he didn't jerk away. "I'd get into trouble for you any day," she promised.