A/N: Thanks for continuing to be patient with me. I'm still feeling a bit overwhelmed with the amount of WIPs that I have. I can't stress enough how much your comments really help to motivate me and keep that magic alive. So if you enjoy this story, leave me a comment to let me know! 3

Eᴘɪsᴏᴅᴇ: Eᴀʀᴛʜ Sᴋɪʟʟs

Adrenaline fuelled the panicked footsteps of our group as we huddled together in our journey back toward camp. The injuries that Jones had experienced prevented us from reaching any substantial speeds, leaving him supported by Miller and McIntyre who allowed him to wrap his arms around their shoulders. At the back of the pack, Murphy guarded us whilst I observed Jones as he rapidly lost colour.

Throughout our frenzied walk, there was almost no conversation. Each of us was on edge, desperate to reach the relative safety of our camp. Occasionally, we would each respond when one of us made a check that everyone was still alive, but that was the extent of our interaction.

The silence in the forest was heavy and suffocating, feeling as if there were enemies lurking everywhere, out of sight. Only the sound of leaves crunching beneath our feet and our laboured breathing from exertion broke the tension.

My head spun from a mixture of exhaustion and delirium, a faint throbbing in my back from the mysterious injury that I hadn't dared to examine yet. It was too dangerous to stop whilst in the woods, and in all honesty, I was frightened to investigate. Instead, I maintained my focus on reaching the camp before any other misfortune could befall us.

A sigh of relief echoed through each of us as our surroundings grew familiar again, giving us an additional burst of energy to reach our destination. Crossing the threshold of our territory, we practically crashed into the relaxed atmosphere. Jones seemed as if he were barely managing to remain on his feet, his skin pallid and sweaty.

I paused for a moment, leaning over to place my hands on my knees as I battled to catch my breath.

"Take him to the dropship. Princess can help." Murphy instructed before I could recover enough to assist and Miller and McIntyre complied without question.

With a final long gasp of breath, I straightened up to insist that I should follow them, when a sharp pain shot across my shoulder blades. Murphy immediately noticed the grimace that crossed my face, followed by a hiss that escaped my lips. He thinned his eyes in suspicion and despite my efforts to silently brush him off, he turned to fully view me.

"Hey. Are you hurt?" He blurted, his brows knitting together in obvious concern.

"I think I'm okay. It doesn't hurt that bad." I muttered weakly as I attempted to move toward my tent, but he blocked my path. "I just need to find out what I'm dealing with." I justified as I thoughtlessly moved to cross my arms and instead flinched in pain, giving him an indication of where my injury was located.

"Well, unless you've got eyes in the back of your head, I don't think you can do that." He remarked with a smirk and I sighed in defeat.

"Let me take a look." He offered, wasting no time in repositioning himself at my side.

His movements were surprisingly cautious as he moved my jacket aside, allowing me to realise that it was soaked. Reaching further down, he had to peel my jumper away from my skin and I yelped from the stinging.

"Shit, Cassie. You're covered in blood!" He exclaimed with a genuine sense of alarm.

Without waiting for my permission, he hurriedly removed my pack and dropped it to the ground. Next, he shrugged the jacket from my shoulders, only slowing himself to ensure that he didn't hurt me before he slung it over his arm.

"Your jumper's red." He breathed in a flustered manner. "We need to get this looked at. Now." He ordered as he quickly gathered my things, grasping my arm to guide me toward the dropship.

"Clarke has enough on her plate already." I remarked reluctantly, resisting his efforts to move me. "It really doesn't feel like a deep wound, Murph. Can't you just help me?" I added in a shy mutter, feeling guilty at the idea of burdening Clarke with anything potentially minor.

Murphy was visibly uncertain as he glanced between me and the dropship and I was hopeful that he would agree so that I could return to assisting Clarke as soon as possible. After a few moments of silent deliberation he finally conceded, leading me toward his tent instead.

The moment that I stepped inside, he sealed the entrance behind me and pointed at a spot for me to sit. Lowering myself onto the various bits of fabric, I fidgeted around with a sense of unease. Despite having stayed together for days, it felt strange to be in his private space.

Whilst I battled my existential crisis, Murphy dug through my pack to find the medical supplies that I'd prepared. He meticulously lined them up, clearly taking the time to figure out what he recognised from the many times that I'd treated him recently, before he positioned himself behind me.

"Alright. Here's the deal." He began speaking in a serious tone that failed to cover his nerves. "I'll do what I can, but if I think this looks bad at all, you're going to Clarke. Agreed?"

Reluctantly, I nodded in agreement with his terms. On the inside I prayed that the injury hiding beneath my clothes was minor enough to manage between us.

The process of removing my jumper was painfully slow, as Murphy had to carefully disconnect it from my skin after it had become stuck to the wound. I held my breath, fearful of what we might find. He manoeuvred the heavy fabric over my head with care, until I was left in only my camisole.

"This is big." He muttered as he pulled the back of my top lower. "You look like you've been duelling someone." He added in an attempt to lighten the tension, but I couldn't manage a laugh.

"How deep is it?" I whispered with a sick feeling in my stomach.

Although I completely trusted both Murphy and Clarke, I was anxious at the thought of allowing someone amateur to stitch me. Due to its location, it would be impossible to stitch the wound myself, but I didn't relish the possibility of the ugly scar that their inexperience would leave.

"You got lucky. It's shallow." He revealed, prompting me to release a deep breath of relief.

"I'll clean and dress it, but we'll have to keep a close eye on it. I don't want to be responsible for you getting an infection." He lectured, busying himself with reorganising the items that he would need for this.

"Yes, Doctor Murphy." I chuckled, shaking my head at the confident manner that he gave instructions, almost as if this wasn't the first time he'd dealt with something like this.

"Oh, Sunshine! You know that I'm always down for some roleplay, but right now you're distracting me." He remarked whilst I rolled my eyes, unsurprised that he would still find a way to slip an innuendo into the conversation despite the severity of the task before him. "Save it for later, though." He added with a smirk that I could sense without even looking back at him.

Until now, I hadn't noticed how much our characteristics had begun to bleed into each other. I'd caught myself making inappropriate jokes, or behaving in ways that weren't typical for me. However, it was amusing to notice that he had also absorbed some of my knowledge and habits, sharing advice that I'd once given him without a second thought.

"Don't get the wrong idea, but I need you to take your shirt off." He requested as I snapped around to view him over my shoulder to confirm whether he was teasing. "I'm serious. I need to get to your whole back if I'm gonna clean this properly. Touching you is just an enjoyable side benefit this time, not the goal." He justified, only the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Adamant that I would not be fully undressing for him, I reluctantly began to roll the back of my camisole until I could rest the excess fabric on my shoulders. With my entire back exposed to him, I was too embarrassed to meet his eyes, hiding my mortified expression under my hair.

Fortunately, after his numerous injuries he was able to recognise the products in my kit. I watched him unscrew the relevant bottles and prepare the dressings whilst I struggled with heat that flooded through my veins in response to our proximity.

"Moonshine's ready." He announced with a more prominent sense of nerves in his voice. "Not exactly how I wanted to make you moan, but I guess I'll take what I can get. You ready?" He quipped, allowing me a moment of levity whilst I braced myself.

"You are relentless- ow!" I gasped as the harsh alcohol sizzled against my open skin.

With the spreading discomfort of the liquid, I was able to recognise the surprising length of the laceration. Now that the full wound throbbed, I understood the necessity to strip myself for this process.

Despite my discomfort, I clenched my jaw and resolved to maintain a brave face whilst Murphy worked. It was a challenging task that he'd accepted with practically no experience. Even with all of my training, I'd found any procedures that caused my patients pain to be jarring. The last thing that I wanted was to distress him, especially when I was thankful for his bravery.

Murphy was remarkably delicate as he dabbed at the wound, ensuring that each contact was minimal enough to allow me a chance to recover before the next. There was more tenderness to his touch than I would have expected from someone as determined to give the impression that he was callous.

His hands were rough, likely from years of hard labour and fights, but his fingers brushed across my back so carefully that it made a chill run down my spine. I was enormously grateful that he couldn't see my face, as heat flushed to my cheeks. In all of my years, this was undoubtedly the closest that I'd ever allowed anyone to be.

"You know, there's one thing that I still don't get about you." He announced, his gaze burning into the side of my face as he worked. "You care about people. That's obvious from watching you since we've been down here. You said that you wanted to learn medicine to help your dad, but I have to wonder if it's really something you wanted for your life?"

The question was a welcome distraction from the anxiety that his contact was causing me. It wasn't something that anyone had cared enough to ask before.

Casting my mind back to my childhood to consider if I'd ever had any other path laid before me, I had a startling realisation. It wasn't something that I had even wondered in my mind. At least in this respect, it seemed that Murphy knew me better than I knew myself.

"You can call me crazy if you want. It just seems like it brings a lot of attention to someone who doesn't like being around people." He added thoughtfully, as he shuffled closer to me, almost as if he were being drawn in by some unseen force.

"I still haven't figured out what makes you tick. I'm usually pretty good at getting that out of people, but you, Sunshine, are a mystery."

As he pressed dressings over the cut, Murphy's hands moved indulgently slowly. Goosebumps spread across my back, leaving me biting my lip in anticipation as any possible responses were lost to me. Teasingly, his fingertips trailed their way down to the tattoo on my left hip, following the neat shapes of the art that had earned its place permanently on my body. He hummed under his breath and I could feel him tilting his head as he inspected it.

"Let me in on the secret." Murphy whispered, leaning closer to cause a tickle of hot breath on my shoulder. "What is it that really matters to you?"

My mouth grew dry at the purring tone of his voice. It felt as if I couldn't think straight, couldn't focus on anything other than the urgent pulse in my neck, the butterflies that filled my stomach, the temptation that screamed from within. Even without anything happening between us, this moment felt intimate, as if I were allowing him through the barriers that I had built to keep everyone out.

After a few moments of silence, he returned his attention to his task and I could tell that he was enjoying the opportunity to stroke long lines across my back as he took extra time to ensure that every dressing was properly stuck.

"There." He announced, breaking the heavy silence.

I fought to contain a sigh of relief when he finally dropped the topic. Everything felt too much for me. His probing questions, the featherlight touches that left me pliable and worst of all, a desire to surrender to him that only grew larger with every passing second. Even now, as I turned to glance at him over my shoulder, the strange sensation continued to hang over me.

"I did my best, but I'm not you, Doc." He excused, meeting my eyes with a subtle smile.

From the moment that his eyes connected with mine, the air around us felt as if it grew several degrees hotter and an indescribable pressure built. Until now, I hadn't registered how close his face was to mine. There was barely any space remaining between us, but it didn't feel forced or awkward.

Staring into his beautifully blue eyes, I felt as if I were being hypnotised. The colour was as rich as I would imagine the ocean, filled with a depth that I couldn't comprehend why he would want to deny. Hidden within them, I sensed countless words that had been unspoken between us, secrets that I Ionged to discover and I was so distracted by them, that I failed to notice him gradually leaning in to my space.

Even as I became aware of his movements, I couldn't will myself to stop him, despite my overwhelming fear of being hurt again. There was something inexplicably addictive about his presence. It was unpredictable, dangerous, sometimes even cruel, but also safe. Whenever he was near, it was as if I was progressively transforming into someone new.

Warmth gathered in my chest as my heart began to hammer hard enough that I worried it could burst out at any moment. He only paused when the tip of his nose bumped clumsily into mine, leaving his lashes tickling my cheek. He was so close, so impossibly close that I felt as if there was no oxygen remaining in the room and yet I still yearned to be closer. Time itself seemed to have halted around us, leaving me drowning in the mixed scent of pine and smoke that stuck to his hair, his skin, his clothes.

"Cassidy!"

The name seemed foreign as it pulled me from the trance. Slowly, the realisation dawned on me that I was being called from outside and I crossed my arms over the front of the camisole in an effort to cover myself.

Murphy pulled back with an irritable expression, before he rose to his feet to storm over to the opening.

"We're busy. What do you want?" He spat impatiently, careful to ensure that he only opened the fabric enough to stick his head out whilst I delicately redressed myself.

"Sorry, man." Finn's voice announced defensively. "Clarke needs some help with Jones and Miller." He revealed in an apologetic tone, prompting me to hurry myself as I crossed the space to join Murphy.

"It's okay. I'll be right there." I clarified with a smile and Finn nodded in appreciation before he departed.

For a moment, I considered running after him so that I didn't have to address what had just occurred between Murphy and I. Now that logic had returned, I was mortified and knew that I needed to reinstate some boundaries as soon as possible.

"Thanks for the help, Murph. I'll see you later." I breezed with a smile in a desperate bid to escape the awkwardness of the situation, but I had barely managed a single step out of the tent before he caught my wrist to pull me back inside.

"Hey! Wait." He blurted, gripping my shoulders to prevent me from bolting. "One rule before I let you go. If that wound starts to hurt at all, you'll get help." He suggested as I found my gaze wandering outside to avoid him.

"Right?" He insisted, as he moved his hands to my face to force me to meet his eyes.

"I'm serious, Cas. You can't put everyone else above you." He urged, surprising me with the severity of his expression and the longer that I stared into his face, the faster my heartbeat became.

"I promise." I whispered nervously.

The next few moments felt as if they lasted a lifetime, as silence engulfed us. I could hardly bear the tension whilst he decided whether my answer had been adequate. Around us, it seemed as if the tent was shrinking, pushing us closer together.

"I have to help Clarke. And I haven't checked on Jasper in a while." I added, fidgeting under his touch.

Eventually, he loosened his grip and I squirmed out of his hold, dashing away before he could manage another word.

ღ ➵ ღ

By the time I had finished with Jasper, evening fell over the camp and I sat by the fire in exhausted silence. Despite my acknowledgement that I was already doing everything that I could to assist him, the guilt that I felt for failing was crippling. The infection in his wound was steadily worsening. Any time that I wasn't actively treating him was spent straining to think of alternative methods. The weight of his life hung on my shoulders, constantly reminding me that although I had Clarke's assistance, that I was the only person with the knowledge to save him.

Nearby, Octavia and Zoey shared a warm conversation that served as white noise for me whilst I struggled for any new inspiration. Bellamy had recently called a meeting with Murphy and the rest of his entourage to discuss the food shortages, leaving the camp somewhat quieter than usual. As a matter of fact, it finally seemed that the party atmosphere was calming, leaving people to retire to their tents at a reasonable time.

Rubbing at my hands, the sensation of Jones' blood remained on my skin after stitching him back together, regardless of the countless times that I had washed them. I had never trained for this level of field medicine and certainly would have continued to be heavily supervised for several years yet if I had remained on the Ark. On Earth, however, I had little other than my own instincts to rely on.

"Hey, Sage."

For a few moments, I didn't realise that I was being spoken to until a hand waved in front of my face to gain my attention. I glanced up to find Zoey standing over me, holding out a metal cylinder. When I gave her a suspicious look rather than taking it, she sighed and settled into a seat beside me.

"Poison is a coward's tool. You can't actually think that little of me." She breezed, flashing me a playful smile. "It's just tea, to keep your strength up. I used to experiment in making it using different types of plants, or herbs on Agro." She explained, pushing the steaming cup toward me again.

Reluctantly, I accepted the beverage, wrapping my hands around the warm container in an act of self comfort. Zoey fidgeted to make herself comfortable, as if silently warning me that she had no intention of moving from my side. We both stared into the campfire for a while, watching the flames dance their way into the sky and I wracked my brain for any shred of useful information that I might have stored away.

"You're doing your best." Zoey announced quietly, her warm smile powerful enough that I could feel it even as I kept my gaze trained ahead. "We're lucky to have you, you know." She commented in a tone that was so genuine that it reached through my barriers and I hummed to myself.

"What if my best isn't enough?" I muttered in a small, exhausted voice.

My hands shook as I clung to the cup, allowing my fear to make itself known. Zoey seemed thoughtful as she stared down at her boots, nestled in the grass. I finally risked a sip of the fluid in the hope that it might calm my nerves. The beverage certainly wasn't the best tea that I'd ever tasted and it was obvious that she had made it using whatever she could find, but the liquid warmed me from the inside in a familiar manner.

"You can't only focus on the things that are out of your control. Without you, Jones would have died today. Miller might not have ever walked again. Octavia would be battling an infection and I'd be in agony with my burns." Zoey pointed out, a firmness to her voice that hadn't been there before. "Maybe you can't save everyone, but I know that you'll try. And I know that without you, we'd be in serious trouble. You have to learn to count the victories, not just the losses."

At last daring to meet her eyes, I turned to face her with an appreciative smile. I hadn't caught it before, but in the orange glow of the fire, I noticed the strength that shone in her eyes. It wasn't always obvious and aggressive like that of Murphy. Her strength was quiet, subtle, earned from pain and reserved for times when it was truly needed. Without discussing it, I could sense an understanding between us, as if she had been where I was.

Before I could begin to question her, footsteps announced Finn's arrival moments before he took a seat on the other side of me. He looked utterly exhausted, running a hand through his hair as he turned to view us.

"Jasper's sleeping." He reported, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes as if the very idea sounded heavenly. "She'll never admit it, but Clarke is struggling. You think you and Monty can hold the fort for a night whilst we recharge?" He asked, allowing me the chance to notice deep, dark circles that were especially prominent in this lighting.

I nodded calmly in response, grateful that thus far the three of them had managed the burden of watching him to allow me the chance to sleep. Even if I couldn't save Jasper's life, I could at least keep him comfortable.

"Well, that depends." Zoey teased before I could provide an answer. "Are you and your princess actually gonna get any rest, loverboy?" She questioned as she leaned past me to shoot him a cheeky smile, causing my brows to shoot up in surprise.

"Don't be jealous. I'm sure you'll find someone." Finn retorted with a smirk, his words filled with a tinge of familiarity that I hadn't noticed before. "I've heard Wells is single."

"Ooh, that's low!" She hissed, reaching over to punch him lightly in the arm and I flinched as I found myself trapped between them. "You just want me to eliminate the competition for you."

For the first time, I took note of how comfortable they were with each other. Though Murphy was adamant that Zoey's background would cast her as the outcast of the camp, she seemed to have more friends on the Ark than he had expected. As I observed her relaxed attitude, a slight smile filled my lips, which she quickly noticed.

"Hey! I know what you're thinking and no, I'm not friends with this clown." Zoey clarified as she rolled her eyes at Finn, who made a conscious effort to be offended. "Octavia showed an interest in him, so I decided to do some recon. You know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer." She winked, whilst Finn groaned in disapproval.

"I thought you were better than standing in the way of love." Finn drawled sarcastically, earning a scowl from Zoey at the very idea that he might take Octavia from her.

A bitter scoff escaped before I had even realised that I was making the sound, shaking my head at their ridiculous conversation. When they both turned to fix me with curious expressions, I returned to drinking my tea in the hope that they would move on.

"Sounds like we have a sceptic among us." Finn commented, turning his teasing attitude onto me. "Are you not a big believer in the wonders of love, Cassidy?" He questioned, prompting a much louder scoff this time and an increasingly eager response from the two of them.

"Sure. I believe in it." I answered quietly, swirling around the tea in the cup whilst they thinned their eyes at me, silently encouraging me to explain. "Platonic love. Familial love. Love for your friends is even possible, I guess. Monty and Jasper prove that." I elaborated, a slight smile in the corners of my lips as I considered the many ways that I'd seen them demonstrate their care for each other.

"But?" Finn pushed, seeming absolutely intrigued by the opportunity to gain some insight into me and I sighed with reluctance.

"That's it. Everything else is just co-dependency." I confirmed callously, taking another swig of drink to avoid the judgemental looks that I could still feel radiating from the two of them.

"What! No romance? No falling in love?" Zoey questioned, a sad tone filling her words, as if her heart broke on my behalf.

Instead of being deflated, I simply shrugged. It didn't seem as if this was something to be sympathetic over. Every experience of love that I'd witnessed in my life was tainted with some kind of darkness. Lies, betrayal, infidelity, addiction. All of these were commonplace in relationships and though as a child I'd fought to retain hope that some could be different, Cian helped me to realise just how wrong I'd been to try.

"It's a fairy tale. Something nice to tell your children, when really it's nothing more than another method of control." I stated in a low voice, picking at the skin on my hands anxiously until the shock on Finn's face prompted me to continue.

"Think about it. What are we taught about love? If you feel it, if it's true, then you'll do anything for it. If you are really in love with someone, you'll do anything for them. It's just another tool that people can use against you." I elaborated, unable to stop myself once I'd begun.

The silence was tense as I finished my rambling. As per usual when I allowed myself to speak my mind, I was convinced that I had said too much. In the past, I often scared people away, or showed them exactly why I didn't fit with anyone and I worried that this time would be no exception.

"Wow." Finn muttered in a strained voice, before clearing his throat in an effort to recover his reaction. "Someone really messed you up, huh?" He suggested lightly, followed immediately by a wheeze as Zoey struck him in the ribs.

"Don't listen to him, Cassidy." She attempted to reason with me, but I had already moved into a standing position and was eager to escape this conversation.

"It's okay. I'm gonna go relieve Clarke." I explained, handing Zoey the empty cup with a nod of appreciation. "You get some rest. We'll wake you if we need help." I remarked to Finn, genuinely hopeful that he would feel better tomorrow.

Without waiting for an answer, I turned on my heel to walk toward the dropship.

"Nicely done, Space Doofus." Zoey scolded from behind and I could hear Finn's sounds of confusion even as I gained distance.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment from the honesty that my exhaustion had allowed and I worried that I had undone all of the work that Murphy had contributed to gain my acceptance here. Yet again, I'd made myself an outcast.