The sound of Clarke and Kevin giggling cleared the last vestiges of sleep from Bellamy's mind. Before he opened his eyes, he caught the smell of fresh tea. Peeking through slit eyelids, he spied on his family. He wasn't their family, but they were still his. Clarke and Kevin were sitting at the table taking turns telling parts of a story that had gotten ridiculous. And Murphy stood at the counter pouring the tea.

"I know you're awake, Bell." Murphy turned to him and handed him a cup of tea.

"Ah, hold on a sec." Bellamy worked his way up to sitting, pain shooting through his ribs, while Murphy's hand hovered the cup over him. "Thanks." Taking the cup, he grinned at John, who rolled his eyes in return.

"Nothing to thank me for. Clarke would skin me if I made tea for myself and not the whole house."

"Damn straight," Clarke said.

"Shh." Kevin put a finger over his lips. "That's a bad word."

"You should see how he reacts when I talk." Murphy sat behind the boy and reached over his shoulder to set a cup of tea in front him.

Kevin wrinkled his nose. "You have yucky food here. It all tastes like dirt."

"If you'd grown up on the Ark, you'd see that as an improvement. At least this shit has flavor." Murphy grinned, anticipating Kev's reaction.

"SHHHH!" The kid twisted around and covered Murphy's mouth with both hands. "You'll make the words mad!"

Removing the boy's hands, Murphy said, "Tell you what. I'll stop swearing if you stop complaining about the food."

Tapping a finger against his cheek, Kevin thought that over with the seriousness only a toddler could and then shook his head. "I don't think I can do that. You just have to stop saying bad words."

"Is that right?"

"Yup."

The three parents all laughed, Bell's shallow and followed by grimaces. Clarke kissed Kevin's forehead and then Murphy's. With kiss blown in Bellamy's direction, she put on her coat. "I have patients."

Murphy also got up and donned his winter coat. "Gotta feed the demons."

"Later!" Bellamy said as the door closed, shaking his head, not knowing what Murphy meant by the exit line he'd been using lately.

Kevin tugged on Bellamy's hair. "I miss my toys."

"Well maybe we can make you new toys," Bellamy said, tucking the boy into his side. "What kind of toys do you want?"

The list was long and for the most part impossible, but Bellamy noted the ones they'd be able to make for him. Dolls shouldn't be too difficult, blocks would be a breeze, but the cars and trucks might be a bit difficult. No one here had ever seen one in person that hadn't fallen apart or been buried. And what were legos? Cause Kevin asked for them at least half a dozen times.

Nyko was already working when Clarke entered the fisa house. "They've been asking for you." He thumbed in the direction of the injured prisoners.

"Mrs. Green, good morning. How're you feeling?" Clarke asked as she checked the bandage on her arm.

"Clarke. I'm fine. I just want to see my son. They wouldn't let me leave. I've been trying to get to him since I found out he was here."

"He knows." Clarke moved on to Monroe. "And how are you doing? You've been fading in and out on us for a while. Feeling any better?"

"A bit. That stuff that guy gave me helps with the nausea."

"His name's Nyko. And he developed that with Monty on a lark. You should rest. Concussions can take months to recover from."

"Hey Clarke?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going to happen to us?"

"I don't know. Rest."

Sterling wouldn't look at her, but he couldn't hide his pain. She looked under the dressing on his leg and found the wound dark red and puffy. "Nyko, when was the last time Sterling's wound got cleaned?"

"An hour ago. The infection isn't responding to anything. Suggestions?"

"It's a staph infection and we don't have the right antibiotics. I'll have to surgically remove the infected tissue. Could you make sure we have the secondary anesthesia. He didn't do well with the first. If we have enough we'll schedule the surgery for this afternoon, when I get back."

Nyko nodded and left to check supplies.

At the scared, wide-eyed expression Sterling wore, Clarke patted his arm. "You'll be fine. Freaking out won't help anything and it might even do you harm."

Without another word, she went to check on Anya. But the bed behind the curtain was empty save for Anya's sash. Scrunching the deep red fabric up, she stuffed it in her pouch before returning to her other patients.

"I might be able to help with the anesthesia or some better antibiotics," Mrs. Green said as Clarke sat at the desk and recorded the progress or lack of same of the three patients left in the fisa house. "I know I can help."

"That's up to Octavia, Lincoln and Monty."

"Where is my son? Why hasn't he come to see me?"

"I've told you a hundred times, Alice, he's working on something very important that requires all his attention." Clarke made a few more notes, and then left the prisoners in the care of Gustus. "Call me if there's an emergency."

"Yes, fisa." He returned to whittling a new lute for his daughter-in-law, Harper.

A half-hour hike took Murphy to the cabin he'd been assigned to by O, Linc, and Clarke.

When he walked in, Echo grunted a greeting. "Bout time. They've been sleeping for the last two hours but you know that never lasts." She slapped the tranq gun Raven rigged out of an old sidearm against his chest and stormed out, tired and grouchy.

Murphy sat in the seat Echo just vacated and sighed. Monty slept with his head on his paper-covered desk. The line of cages smelled of piss and shit, but not as bad as they had before he cleaned them out yesterday.

While he sat there, John worked on filing some metal down to become a piece for a toy car. Gave him something to do while everyone slept. He managed to get half a rear fender formed when the first of the creatures woke up and started hissing and wailing. Without pausing, he said, "Shut up, Finn. I'll get your food in a minute."

The place roused like every Reaper'd been injected with amphetamines, the cacophony waking Monty up and beginning the work anew.

In the middle of strapping one of the Reapers to the table for the latest treatment, Murphy heard Clarke before anyone else. "Hey, it's our favorite fisa."

"How're our patients?" Clarke asked as she began to look over Monty's most recent notes.

"No better, no worse." Monty pointed to several notes he took since Clarke left yesterday.

As they talked about what made all the Reapers nuts, Murphy tightened the restraints on the one they'd dubbed AJ. If she weren't covered in her own waste, crying and ranting incoherently, he'd have called her cute. A bucket of water and an entire bar of soap later, he'd gotten her clean.

"Thank you, Murphy." Clarke met his eyes for a moment before examining AJ. "She's emaciated. Has she been eating?"

"I can barely get AJ to drink anything. That's why she's next. If we can't help her soon, she's not going to make it. And you said if they weighed less than forty-five kilograms, they couldn't be helped. She's over that now but won't be for long." Monty pulled his sweater closed tighter.

"Let's hope this helps her." After belting the upper arm, and tapping AJ's inner elbow to find a good vein, Clarke swabbed with shine before injecting her with a clear liquid.

AJ appeared calm less than thirty seconds later, and for a minute they thought they might have made a breakthrough as she asked, "Where am I?" But then she faded out, eyes glazed over and breath stopped. The three of them tried everything to bring her back, including defibrillation, but in the end, they lost her.

Clarke slumped before rebounding. "Let's do a full work up on her blood. I'll do the autopsy. She was lucid there for a minute, we might be on the right track."

While Monty set up the vials for the blood draws, Murphy began to prep for the autopsy. "I have no idea why you think you can save them. Neither of you know what you're doing."

She slapped him with enough force to split his lip. "I've learned to perform surgeries far outside my training and saved a half dozen lives doing what I shouldn't be able to do. Monty's created over fifteen medications and before landing, the most he'd ever done was dry out marijuana to smoke. And I'm not going to just kill these people when there might be a chance, any chance at saving some of them! Now get back to work!"

As soon as she shut her mouth, Murphy backhanded her. "Don't you dare talk to me like that. You act like I'm heartless. But look at them! They're in cages, rolling around in their own filth. All they do is cry and wail and rant and rave outta their fucking minds. Without the cages, they attack and eat each other. That's not living and even if you do find a cure, they'll never be okay. Not after that!" He deflated when he saw how he'd unnerved her. "Look, you went over every bit of information we could get from the Mount. You scoured through everything even remotely medical and found nothing useful. All we have to show for all the testing and experiments are twenty-two graves. I'm not the monster here. So save your sanctimonious shit for someone else."

As Murphy stormed out, Monty watched as Clarke straightened herself, wiped the blood from her cheek, and walked out the other door. He'd seen this blow up coming for days. In case Clarke hadn't changed her mind, Monty drew several vials of AJ's blood. "Maybe we'll actually learn something."

Within five minutes of being outside, Murphy found Clarke, sitting on the back bench. "I know you're doing all this out of some strange loyalty to Raven and Finn, but he stopped being Finn the day they poisoned him."

"How am I supposed to explain to Raven that I gave up when she never has? She's been through hell since she got here, but she never stops. Raven built half the infrastructure we have now. And still managed to make little things here and there for everyone. Instruments for anyone that wanted them and some toys for the kids. How can I go to her and tell her that Finn's sick - and I can't make him better? If it weren't for her we'd have lost against the Mountain. I can't tell her I gave up." She stretched her back with her hands pushing on her knees. Her, I don't know what I'm doing posture.

"We don't have to tell her he was alive when we found him. It wouldn't even be a lie. So let's give her the closure she needs. And give these people the peace they need." Murphy slumped back not knowing what else to say or do either.

"I - I -" Her gaze zeroed in on the blood on his lip, and touched it with the tip of her tongue. Drawing his lip into her mouth, she looked up to see him watching her. They never lost eye contact as she nipped and sucked his busted lip.

A minute after that, she stood up. "We need to get back in there."

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'll see what I think when I look at them again."