Thanks to your lovely words (special thanks to Mercenary63) I've decided to post another chapter. It is basically the same thing but from Raven's perspective. As for the future of the story... that depends partly on where this season takes things and partly on your response. Enjoy :D

Raven has to do this, she has to save him. It's the only way. She convinces herself she's not doing anything really wrong. It's not like she is throwing an innocent into a bottomless pit. And Finn is good, he is kind-hearted, he is family. She owns him everything. Murphy is not.

She approaches him, the whole conversation already mapped out in her head. As she drags her leg a bit more than necessary, she makes sure he sees it. She will use every weapon at her disposal. Because it's about Finn and Finn only. There is no room for questioning the morality of it all.

"You're coming with us." she tells him confidently.

Murphy looks up from his spot and smirks.

"We're getting Finn out. Bellamy and Clarke." she elaborates, "We need you to come along."

"And why would I do that?" he challenges, something she noticed he often does. Even when he doesn't have to. Life really fucked him up more than she thought.

Raven wants to tell him because he owes her, because if it wasn't for her and others he would be rotting in some improvised jail cell. Or because for once in his life he could do something half-decent. Then, the memory of him caring for her, wiping the blood from her lips, confiding in her sneaks up on her. She knows it was because they were so close to death but some sort of understanding developed between them. "Because I'm asking you to." the words escape her along with the sense of strangely felt connection she suddenly realizes has never left her.

He is silent still, looking at her with those piercing blue eyes. For a moment, the fear that he will brush her off overwhelms her but then he nods and says. "Then I'm in." he almost smiles and she starts to feel like shit. He trusts her, the guy who trusts nobody trusts her. And for a moment she falters.

She is pointing the gun at him and everyone protests. She knows why they don't want her, don't want them to hand Murphy over to the Grounders. She also knows they don't understand that she has to do this, do something. Finn is where he is because of her. Had he not given her the gift of experiencing space, he wouldn't have been sent to Earth in the first place. She, the real Spacewalker, initiated his downfall. Raven knows she shouldn't feel such huge responsibility for his actions but she can't help it. And yes, she is aware her reasons are partly selfish, she doesn't want his blood on her hands. But she doesn't want Murphy's either.

She can barely keep her hands from shaking; she grips the metal handle tighter as he takes a step towards her, challenging her yet again.

"Go to hell, Raven." his voice is filled with venom, his eyes with something which to Raven looks like hurt.

Bastard. She cannot show weakness. Only the strong survive on Earth.

Then Finn interjects, lowering her gun. Does he not understand he has to survive? For everybody. As he lays down the plan, she cannot make herself look back at Murphy. She can feel his eyes on her, he itches to throw another sharp word at her and she can't blame him. Of course he feels anger for what she was willing to do.

She hates Finn at that moment, she hates him for trying to make things better, for taking the easy way out, for being too weak to live with himself, for leaving her… she doesn't know why else. All she knows is that he is wrong.

Raven slides the blade into Clarke's sleeve because Clarke will know what to do. She will save the boy they both love or loved… It's all so messed up she doesn't know if it is one or the other. It is probably both.

She screams and screams, that is all she is reduced to. Everything that comes out of her mouth that night is screams. Clarke, on the other hand is silent, motionless, blood still on her hands. Raven wants her to say something, justify herself. But she doesn't. Others try to do that for her. The faces are all a blur, but she's sure Bellamy is there. So is Abby. They try to subdue her as she wants to hurt Clarke, pin it all on her. She blames her for letting Finn love her, for everything even though it is not her fault. She blamed Finn for being weak and she now blames Clarke for being the exact opposite.

Raven hardly speaks anymore. When she does utter a word or two, her voice is strained. Like a cry is fighting to escape. One word too many and she might fall apart again. They realize soon enough that she needs space or maybe they just give up. Establishing peace with the Grounders is the main priority now.

She roams the camp most of the time. Wick tries to get her to work on some thing or other. Tinkering doesn't help, not this time. But she does it anyway, beats listening about the preparations for the feast.

Murphy's reaction must be the only one she can't read. He didn't try to communicate with her in any way. He doesn't speak to he,r yet doesn't really ignore her. He is always somewhere near but makes no contact. And he must have noticed her looks meant to provoke him. She needs him to react in some cruel way so she can lash out on him... It's funny how much time she spends thinking about him.

The day of the long-awaited feast comes. Everybody is chattering about it, mostly mesmerized by the Grounders' appearance. It is easier for them because they never had to battle face to face with them. She can't stomach the idea of a happy partnership; it most likely won't last.

Murphy is the only one sitting alone. He looks almost as happy about the today's event as she is.

It feels like a lifetime ago but when he returned to the camp all beaten and bloody was the first time she heard of his story. Not heard really, more like deduced from the whispers. They all claimed he was a psychopath who shouldn't be trusted. She saw something else there though. Despite everything, he seemed not to have lost all humanity. Despite everything, she feels the need to approach him. Before Raven can think it through, she is pulling a chair, placing the tray at his table. He doesn't lift his head but he does notice her. She is trying to say something, utter a word, any word but fails.

After what seems like eternity she breathes out. "He was my family." it comes out and she doesn't know if he will misinterpret it. It's not really an apology; it's a lame attempt of explaining her state, "And now… I don't know."

"Have a drink." he says and she is confused. That is not how she expected him to react.

"I have my own."

"They didn't lock me up on the Ark for being a model citizen, you know?"

She almost questions him but then she notices his mischievous half-grin which makes her lips twitch upward just a bit.

As she smells the drink, sharp scent of alcohol fills her nostrils and she makes a face. He lets out an amused laugh and she wants to scoff at him. However, one look at him changes her mind. The reason is a mystery.

"It's not as bad as it smells."

Taking his word for it, she holds her breath and gulps the drink down. The hot burning is all she can feel at that moment. Her throat is sore, from alcohol this time and she almost cannot subdue the coughing. "God! It's worse." she clears her throat, "But it helped for a moment."

"That's the point."

"They are having a feast." she blurts out. Why is she starting this topic with him? Even if he decides to join in, he will not tell her anything she doesn't already know herself.

"It's the sensible thing to do." he doesn't sound happy about it, nor anxious. It is always the combination of the two when others talk about it. But not Murphy. She feels some sort of resignation has settled within him.

She wants to ask him about it but doesn't dare. "I know. It just sucks."

"I know."

Who would have thought she would find understanding with him. But then Wick calls for her and she reluctantly gets up. "I got to run. This was…" nice? Not horrible? Something.

"Swift as a shadow, short as any dream." he finishes.

She recognizes the words from some old book she never bothered to read carefully. Words were not her passion. And Murphy is amazingly good with them. How come he keeps surprising her in that sort of pleasant way? An inexplicable smile forms on her lips and she fights really hard to contain it as she slowly walks away.