A/N: Murphy. If you feel the Murphy love here, you have MarinaBlack1 to thank for holding my feet (or maybe in true Murphy style, my face?) to the fire on his dialogue. I'm still sussing him out - this is my first time really writing him - and of course, she's the Queen of Murphy, so I'm very blessed.


Night 3

Sleeplessness. How shocking. And a second day of dealing with the fallout, unable to be at Clarke's side because he was still too busy triaging the others' grief.

"Murphy, you up?" Might as well see if misery really did love company.

"Well, I am now." Murphy's anger was flat, forced; his voice also lacked the rough dryness of sleep. He'd been awake. Bellamy put his hands behind his head and stared up at the faintly less-black blackness of the metal panel above him.

"How is she?" he asked the young man on the floor. Murphy's careful silence hung between them, three beats of nauseatingly oppressive fear for Bellamy.

"… That depends on what kind of answer you're looking for." No need to ask who he'd meant. There was only one "she" in that man's world right now, and it wasn't Octavia.

"What are you talking about?" Bellamy didn't intend to sound pissed off, but exhaustion was strangling his ability to regulate his tone. Murphy sighed.

"She's mostly fine - you know, as fine as any of us could be after doing that. So if you want a good night's sleep, I'll tell you she's Clarke, man, she has her shit together. But if you want to know what's really going on? Well, she secretly wants Raven to confront her. She won't look anyone in the eye. And I doubt she's slept since she did it." Through the darkness separating them, Bellamy silently and completely forgave Murphy every past cock-up. He also sort of hated him for his brutal honesty.

"Fuck, John."

"Hey, I was with you on the 'get him the hell out of here' plan. I get it, man." Bellamy heard shifting and when Murphy spoke again, the voice was directed up at the ceiling - as if he, too, were lying on his back. "I can go check on Raven tomorrow. Kind of… take shifts."

Every part of Bellamy wanted to accept the offer.

"She'd kill you. She was all set to trade you for Finn, and that was before. It's fine." It was not fine. None of it was fine.

"Hey, whatever. I offered."

"Good night, Murphy." His tone was still too harsh, and that pissed him off because Murphy was his link to Clarke right now, and he needed that link the way he needed water and air. But apologizing was not really a Blake family tradition. So instead, he turned to face the back wall of the bunk, and tried not to hurt.

It didn't work.

He rolled out of bed and headed for the half-broken door. When Murphy asked, he said he was taking a walk, which was good enough for his accidental roommate. Bellamy squeezed through the small opening into the equally dark hallway beyond, fingers trailing along the wall for equilibrium and direction as he moved toward the sensation of a larger open space ahead. As soon as he felt the breeze from outside – cold, so much colder than it had been in weeks – he sank onto the metal grating and leaned against a round bulkhead. Bellamy breathed deeply and let the tears come. In the belly of a fallen space station, surrounded by hundreds of fallen souls, he wept silently for one bright gold falling star.


Night 4

Tomorrow the negotiations would begin and their world would change. Tonight he was exhausted. So why the hell was Bellamy still chasing after sleep with so little success? After that situation with Raven and Clarke earlier, he had every right to sleep for a year, at least.

The way Raven had lunged across the camp's yard after spotting Clarke… it had frightened him. He had been so sure of Clarke's death in that moment. Somehow his arms had been wiser and faster than the rest of him, scooping around Raven's waist and gathering her to his chest until the fury ebbed, until she collapsed into him again, all tears and hollowed-out sobs and he almost wished for the fury because at least he was trained for that. Wick had shown up to lead her away; he seemed to have more heart available than Bellamy right now.

And then Clarke's face, finding him, finally catching his eye but only long enough to thank him… and she wasn't even thanking him for saving her. She was thanking him for taking care of her friend. It had crushed him all over again.

Was this their new normal? Waking up every morning from a shitty night of not-quite-sleep, determined to be more than just sad and scared – and failing miserably, usually before midday? He couldn't believe they had been through so much only to end up like this. There had to be more.

The sound of cloth scraping against the metal edge of their doorway caught his and Murphy's attention. Bellamy tensed in anticipation of violence as uncertain feet shuffled forward in the dark.

"Bellamy?" Clarke's whisper was too loud in the space. Too loud. Almost as loud as his heart, beating now to bruise his ribs from inside.

"Murphy?" Bellamy called, voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, I know." There was a gentle rustle and a muffled curse as Murphy slipped outside.

Clarke must have followed the sound of Bellamy's voice. A shadowy figure, more noticeable for the body heat she gave off than as an actual person, approached the narrow bunk.

"- Clarke? What's going on?"

She didn't even bother to answer, really. She just half-grunted, a kind of shut-the-hell-up-and-let-this-be-okay sound, and curled quietly into the space beside him. Bellamy pulled as far away as he could, trying to give her space. She took it.

How could someone so small fill so much bed?

It didn't matter. Bellamy stared up at that panel, the one he'd memorized even in the dark, and felt the warmth radiating off her back.

"Clarke -" But she was already asleep.

Okay. He could handle this. He shifted slightly, trying to find a way to get comfortable in the too-small sliver of hard cold bunk he had inadvertently allotted for himself. He had to move without actually moving, somehow. He would not disturb her. She needed sleep. Besides - it was Clarke. If she knew of his discomfort she would apologize for being the cause. And she would leave immediately, silent and stoic, not willing to burden him.

And that, he could not handle. He sighed and resigned himself to a night of discomfort for her sake.


**So. Here's my sad little plea for reviews, since I am an absolute neurotic and my brain is full of equally neurotic Muses. We are basically feedback vampires, TBH. If you like it, please let me know!**