The smokehouse was probably the worst place to work in the whole Camp, so of course Murphy was assigned to work there and up chop meat all day. Subsequently he smelled disgusting most of the time, but at least he had the warmth of the fire to keep the brisk air out of his lungs.

It wasn't all that bad really, as he butchered outside he could distract himself by looking beyond the fence and into the forest and pretending it wasn't some beautifully disguised death trap. Murphy didn't hate it all that much, there was something relaxing about getting into a steady rhythm, only focusing on the sound of his knife on the hard wood.

But a distant sound of laughter drew Murphy's attention away from his work, and he looked over to see Grey approaching with a basket resting on her hips. Wherever Grey went, happiness seemed to linger, and it meant a lot to Murphy to see warmth in a place as dreary as Camp Jaha.

Murphy quickly went back to his work when he realized he had been watching her for a little too long. But his rhythm faltered again when he felt something brush his shoulder.

"Got anything worth cooking?'

Murphy recognized the voice, and he looked up to see Grey leaning against the wood table.

"Oh yeah," replied Murphy as he slammed his knife against the wood, "Mutant mountain lions, radioactive cougars, all that good stuff."

"Sounds delicious," Grey replied, "I'm going to need a lot for dinner tonight."

"I wonder what were having," Murphy asked, "I'm gonna go out on a limb and say stew, but I could be wrong."

"How did you know?" Grey laughed, "Now if you would," she handed him the basket and Murphy filled it to the brim with fresh meat.

"Thanks," she said before pulling something out of her bag and slipping into the pocket of Murphy's jacket.

"Shh," she said as she walked off with her basket, "You didn't get that from me."

Murphy watched her as she walked away, and stared at the roll of bread she had graciously given him and devoured the thing before any of the other workers could notice.

Grey stopped by almost every day to pick up meat, and Murphy couldn't lie and say he didn't enjoy seeing her. She always gave him a smile, and when she caught him off guard he would even return it slightly. Sometimes Grey would talk to him-only for a moment so the other workers wouldn't take notice- and slip a piece of bread into his pocket.

He didn't notice how reliant he had become on Grey's sly smile and pieces of bread until the day she didn't come. Murphy assumed she just didn't have time or something, but when he went to dinner she wasn't there either (He noticed this because Grey would sit by him from time to time). When he returned to his quarters he noticed that Grey's door was completely shut, which was odd because it was usually open just enough for him to see her reading the only book he'd seen since coming to the ground.

It proceeded like this for a few days, and Murphy was starting to grow suspicious, but he pushed his worries away with the warmth of the fire and the sound of his knife beating against the cutting board.

One night Murphy's solemn dinner was interrupted by a sullen Bellamy Blake. The hatred they once harbored towards each other had subdued almost entirely in the past couple months, they weren't exactly friends, but they weren't enemies either.

"Have you seen Grey around?" Bellamy asked, while Murphy tried not to look startled by his presence.

"Not for a few days," Murphy let his voice trail off and his attention wander back to his stew, which seemed to taste worse in Grey's absence.

"I just thought cause you guys are friends you might know-"

Friends? Thought Murphy, I guess we, are kind of.

"-I mean I see her with you at mealtime so I just assumed-"

"Why do you care?" Murphy interrupted.

Bellamy just sighed and answered, "You know she's had some problems in the past, I just wanted to know if she was okay."

"What kind of problems?" Murphy dropped his spoon, looking thoroughly confused.

"Well I thought most people knew, but she uh… she uh..."

"Spit it out, Blake."

"She tried to kill herself."

"No way," Murphy shook his head, "She's not like that at all."

"Loss changes people," Bellamy explained, "I mean, were any of us like this before coming to the ground?"

Murphy nodded, but he still couldn't comprehend how the most lively and sympathetic person he knew could possibly want to end her life. They had much more in common than Murphy originally thought.

He didn't say anything to Bellamy, just walked away and grabbed an extra bowl of stew, trying to subdue the confusion plaguing his mind. Murphy walked quickly down the hall and made his way towards Grey's closed door. He tapped on it lightly and muttered, "Grey, you in there?"

"Murphy?" A dry voice replied.

"Yeah… um… are you okay?"

"I've just been feeling sick, but I'm fine, really."

"Well, I grabbed you some dinner. It's not as good as usual but I'm assuming that's 'cause you weren't there to cook it," Murphy said with a smile in his voice.

"Thanks, but I'm fine," Grey said meekly through the metal door.

"I'll just leave it here for you then," Murphy put down the bowl and lingered by her door a little longer, "Feel better."

She didn't reply so Murphy went back to his room to stare at his walls and contemplate what to write on them next. He heard the open and close of Grey's door, and when he noticed the bowl had disappeared from the hallway he smiled.

X

X

X

Grey felt very much like Atlas; because she had so much on her shoulders it seemed to weigh her down. Most of the time she could move through it by smiling to herself and thinking of all of the books she used to read, but she wasn't as strong as a character of mythology, or any character for that matter. When Grey felt the weight of her world bearing down on her shoulders, she let it crush her into a state of indolence and self-loathing.

She hadn't left her room, or even her bed, in days. She was lost in her ghosts; she was lost in the memories of all the beautiful souls who had disappeared into the oblivion of time and space. Sometimes Grey wished she had disappeared too.

The first person she ever lost was Willa, an orphan who she was raised with, and due to her mothers poor health she was constantly battling illness and immune deficiency. Willa was the strongest girl Grey ever knew, and the only person she had ever watched die. She was only 14, and if their guardian had sent her to Medical she probably would've lived a little longer, at least Grey hoped.

Then there was Jonah, who was floated when he was 23 for statutory rape. The school had found out about his relationship with Grey and he was executed without any trial because they wanted to keep the whole thing out of public eye.

"Can you grab that book for me, next time you get the chance?" Charlie asked Grey as they walked down the hall, towards the huge window they liked to sit by.

"Which one?" Grey replied, and Charlie just rolled her eyes at her.

"Wuthering Heights, of course!" She exclaimed.

"You've read that book too many times," Grey sighed.

"Hey it's not my fault Emily Bronte is a heart-breaking bitch, I'll never get over it."

Grey loved it when her older sister expressed interest in the classics. It made her happy that she could give Charlie a chance to read such things, because Grey knew that without her job position at the school there was no way they would be allowed to possess books like that.

Grey's smile faded when she saw Charlie's worried glare fixated on something down the hall.

"What is it?" Grey asked, and she turned to see Jonah storming towards them.

"Grey," he said, before pulling her into an embrace.

"What are you doing?" she whispered angrily, "People can see us!"

By people, Grey meant Charlie, who had no idea about their relationship.

"It doesn't matter right now," Jonah whispered back, holding Grey's cheek in his palm, "All that matters is that I love you, and I'm sorry it has to be like this."

"What do you mean? I don't understand-" but Jonah's lips were pressed against Grey's before she could utter another word. He kissed her so desperately that Grey finally figured out what was happening. She kissed him back with the same passion before pulling away and whispering, "I love you too."

Then he was gone, running down the hall, and too soon Grey would understand the meaning of their encounter. It was the last time she ever kissed Jonah, it was the last time she saw him at all.

Grey could feel her heart wrenching, and she had to sit up in her bed so she didn't choke on her own tears, but even in her depression there was a glimmer of hope. It was only a faint thought in the back of her mind that sounded quite similar to Murphy's voice whispering from outside her door.

Grey was the only person who cared about John Murphy, she's seen him angry, she's seen him on the brink of death, and for some reason all she wanted to do was place a smile over his ever present scowl.

That's when she heard her door creep open, and Kane appeared like a giant as he loomed over the side of her bed.

"You've been in here for four days, Grey," Kane said it like she didn't already know, "We need you working."

"Ugh!" Grey muffled a groan into her bed sheets. She wanted to be needed for more than her expert stew making skills, but she understood what Kane meant.

"Come on, stand up," Kane demanded lightly tugging at her sheets.

Grey felt disgusting as she swung her legs over the side of her bed, she hadn't changed in days and she could feel every particle of sweat and dirt caked onto her skin. Her usually shinning hair was now knotted and greasy, and she suddenly felt a stab of shame for letting herself get like this.

"I brought you a bucket and soap so you can wash up," Kane gripped Grey's arm, "Look at me, Grey," and she did, reluctantly, "You're strong and you have to persevere. If not for yourself then for the people who need you and the people that died for you…." He paused and looked at the sullen girl with pity, "Wash up and head to the kitchens ok?"

Grey nodded and he released his grasp on her arms and said, "We decided to throw a party to celebrate Christmas," he explained, "to boost morale and get everyone into good spirits. It's in a few days and I need you to plan the meal for everyone."

"Got it," Grey said with a meek smile, a distraction was just what she needed right now, "And Marcus," she called as he went out the door.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

X

X

X

Once she was washed up she put on her other set of clothes, which was a long sleeve black thermal and dark green pants, and walked across the hall without even bothering to do her hair.

She waltzed in without knocking, as usual, and caught Murphy shirtless and whistling idly on the ground.

"Having a good time?" Grey joked while raising an eyebrow.

"I'm having a shit time actually," Murphy said without moving off the floor, "Well it's less shitty now that you're alive." Murphy didn't seem to mind being shirtless until he caught Grey looking at his slim and bare chest for a bit too long.

He returned the look as he watched her wet hair fall carelessly around her face, leaving droplets of water on her cheek. He liked the way she looked, Murphy had to admit, especially the way she raised her eyebrows and glared.

"Well prepare to feel a lot more shitty," Grey said whilst dropping a decent sized book on Murphy's exposed chest, "This book is a heartbreaker."

"Ugh," he moaned as he rubbed his stomach and stood up, finally, "You didn't have to drop it on me…" he let his voice trail off as he examined the green hardback book, tracing his finger over the gold decals.

"Wuthering Heights," he read, "Where did you find this?" Murphy finally asked. Grey smiled at the curiosity in his eyes.

"I was lucky," she explained, "I had it with me when we crashed."

"This is probably the first book I've seen since coming to the ground," Murphy was still looking at the thing, flipping through the pages like it was enchanted.

"That's why I'm so lucky," Grey went on, "I've read it about 20 times, so I thought I could share it with someone with someone who can really appreciate it."

Murphy choked back his excitement and fluttered his gaze between the book and Grey, "Wow… Um… Thanks."

Grey grinned at him and said, "Come on let's go to dinner."

Murphy shrugged and followed her out the door, it wasn't until they were halfway down the hall that Murphy realized he was still shirtless, and he left Grey in a fit of laughter as he ran back to his room and got his clothes.

Bellamy was right; despite Murphy's reluctance he and Grey were just natural friends. It scared him, but he thought it was time he stopped surviving and started living his life. And like Grey said, there's no point to living if you're doing it alone.