Author note: For anyone who is interested and doesn't already know, I have started another Clarke/Murphy fic (what are we calling that, Clurphy?...) called 'The Boy Next Door' so please do check it out and let me know what you think. Thanks.

Miss Me Princess?

Chapter Nineteen

"Tell me what happened." Miller demanded as he sat down with them at lunch in the Main Hall. Clarke stiffened in her seat.

"We told you." She started falteringly, "I was just looking for answers and-" but Miller cut her off.

"Tell me what really happened." Miller insisted. He looked to Murphy and held his gaze. "Come on man, whatever is going on, tell me. I can help you." Miller implored. Murphy stared at him, watching him carefully for several seconds. It wasn't in his nature to trust anyone, most of his life people had let him down. But Clarke had changed all that, so instead of dismissing Miller outright, Murphy considered his offer to help them. Bellamy had always trusted Miller, and of all the delinquents that had come out of the dropship, Murphy knew that Miller was one of the few who had always respected Clarke as much as he respected Bellamy. Miller was the kind of kid who just wanted to be treated fairly; he recognised that Clarke and Bellamy did the best they could as the 100s leaders so he followed them, he obeyed them. Murphy looked to Clarke and nodded reassuringly then he turned back to Miller and started to explain everything.


"That's it? That's all he said: 'no survivors'?" Miller questioned. His shoulders were tensed as he sat forward in his seat, his forearms braced on the table and both hands balled into fists. A cold bowl of soup sat forgotten in front of him.

"I said I wanted to see for myself but he said that's 'not possible'." Clarke scowled, hacking angrily at a chunk of bread with her knife. "Apparently it's 'for my own good'."

"So there's no way to know for sure." Miller said. "They could have found anything and be hiding it from us." He seethed with frustration. "Or they might not have even been searching at all!"

Murphy chewed a mouthful of food and watched Miller frown darkly as he processed everything they told him.

"We have to do something." Murphy explained quietly to Miller. "We need answers and the answers might mean we need to leave." Miller stared steadily at Murphy, swallowing once before nodding in understanding.

"I get it: we need to know what's going on. But you two have to be more careful." He warned them.

Miller had only just started to look around at the food in front of him, when an alarm sounded through the hall in a steady stream of bleats, and they all tensed. Suddenly alert, they all straightened up, eyes scanning their surroundings looking for activity. The alarm wasn't as loud or urgent as the siren Clarke and Murphy triggered by opening the restricted door. It didn't seem like a warning, more like a signal. Clarke noticed that like her, the members of the forty-nine that were sitting nearby had all tensed at the sound, but as she looked around she saw few of the Mount Weather citizens reacting to it at all. Movement to her right caught Clarkes attention and she turned to see Maya standing up from where she sat having lunch with Monty and Jasper at the next table over.

"Maya, what's that alarm?" Clarke called out to her. Maya turned to face her with such an angry scowl that Clarke thought she wasn't going to answer, but Maya seemed to pause as she noticed several heads turning to listen in.

"It means the surface patrol are back and are in need of medical attention." She answered tartly.

Clarke's eyes widened, her head whipping back to Murphy and Miller. The three shared a knowing look. That meant they really had been out searching. With a sudden thrill of excitement and a surge of hope Clarke shot up out of her seat. But before she could take a step to follow Maya's retreating form Jasper called out to her.

"What are you doing Clarke?" he asked accusingly. Clarke suppressed a groan of frustration as she turned back to Jasper. She didn't have time for this. But before she had the chance to answer Miller was speaking for her.

"Surface patrol!" He emphasised as he stood. "They might have found survivors!" Miller exclaimed. Jasper regarded them suspiciously, but others within hearing began to mutter excitedly.

"Do you think so?" Monty asked hopefully. Clarke didn't wait around for anyone else to weigh in; she took off quickly after Maya.

"But…" Jasper wavered. Murphy waited, watching as Miller held Jaspers gaze in a silent challenge.

"We'll soon find out." Miller answered Monty without taking his eyes off Jasper. Defeated he quickly dropped his gaze. Murphy shot Miller a grin before racing out after Clarke.


Clarke was careful to stay a few paces behind Maya, so the girl was unaware that she was being followed. They took a left turn off the main corridor and approached a restricted access door marked 'Medical Bay'. There was an orange warning notice on the door that read 'quarantine section'. A corresponding orange sticker was on the open door of the supply unit where a man stood dressing in protective clothing. Anything coming in from the surface was too toxic for them to be near without hazmat suits, Clarke realised.

"What are we dealing with?" Maya asked the man as she started to pull out equipment for herself.

"They were attacked." He answered without looking up as he carefully pulled on his own gear "One dead in room two, still toxic. The other took his mask off to try to save him. He needs immediate quarantine and treatment."

"Who attacked them?" Clarke asked from behind them. They both spun to face her.

"What are you doing here?" the man sneered at her. But Clarke didn't answer because Murphy had already snuck up behind him, reached around and grabbed the access card off of the lanyard around the man's neck before he even realised Murphy was there. Murphy barged his shoulder against him, pushing his way passed and knocking the man into Maya. They both stumbled in their suits, clutching at the unit for balance as Murphy slid the card through the electronic reader. Maya cursed and fought frantically with her suit, trying to get the protective gear on as quickly as possible as she glared at them suspiciously.

"Wait!" the man shouted urgently at them as the door opened with a beep and a hiss "it's not safe."

"It is for us." Clarke called back as her and Murphy ran through. They raced along the corridor, Clarke scanning doors as they went, looking for number two.

"This one." She told Murphy, reaching for a door on her right, and they entered quickly. A table stood in the middle of the room and on it lay a body wrapped in clear plastic. Murphy hung back as Clarke instantly started assessing the body, her hands running over the plastic as her eyes searched critically.

"There." She stopped, her hands framing a section of the torso. She looked up at Murphy pale faced and frowning. "That's a bullet wound."

"Grounders don't use guns." Murphy said.

"They're lying to us." Clarke breathed, her hands trembling, "Our people are alive out there."

The door opened and a woman in a hazmat suit walked into the room. She froze at the sight of them.

"What are you doing in here?" she challenged angrily. "Get them out of here!" she called over her shoulder. Two more suited figures entered behind her, supporting a man covered in burns. Clarke gasped in horror at the sight of him. His entire face and torso were brutally disfigured by burn, his skin either black like charcoal or a furious bloody red. He was covered in blisters and glistening with puss and fluid. His eyes were glassy and dazed, he made no nose except for his haggard breathing as he staggered stiffly into the room, leaning heavily on his aides. One of the suited figures disengaged from the burn victim and rushed towards them, dragging them out of the way and ejecting them back out into the corridor.

"Our people are out there." Clarke muttered in an undertone to Murphy as they left.

"Do you think it's the 100 or the ark?" he asked, looking around to make sure no one was near them.

"There's no way to know." She shrugged. "Why would the keep that from us?" she hissed angrily.

"What do we do?" he asked her.

"We need something more."

"That's not enough?"

"It might not be. They could make excuses." Clarke sighed with frustration "They're in there right now, they could do anything - distort the wound so it looks like a knife or arrow wound."

"But it wasn't. You're sure?"

"It was a bullet wound." She said firmly.

"Ok." He said simply. "Sorry, I had to ask."

"I know, and that's the problem, the others are going to want proof."

"Then we need to find some." Murphy said.


Three days later they were still no further forward. Miller had even broken into Wallace's office in the hope of finding some proof to show the others. He found lots to be suspicious of, but no hard evidence. He would try again, he promised Clarke, and they would keep watching and waiting, looking out for other signs of deception. But it was going to be a long game.

Clarke sat in the main hall, dejected and alone. Miller and Murphy were exploring the gym facilities with some of the others. Murphy was reluctant to at first, stubbornly refusing to enjoy anything Mount Weather had to offer and even more unwilling to leave her alone. But they were all tense, and on edge. They had grown used to life outdoors, a life of running in the woods; hunting for their dinner and escaping grounders. Now – trapped inside Mount Weather – there was too much pent-up energy. So Clarke sent Murphy off with Miller to burn off some steam, and told them to eavesdrop of the Mount Weather citizens while they were there, just so the felt like they were doing something worthwhile.

Clarke was sitting in the quite corner that her and Murphy had sat in during the welcome feast, curled up in the armchair with a book and a hot drink. She liked it there, it was quiet and out of the way, a comfortable little nook to sit unnoticed and watch the world go by. A group of men walked by close to her seat, catching her attention as they headed for the exit.

"You coming?" the first one said. As he turned Clarke caught sight of who he was talking to and every inch of her body went rigid.

"No I'll pass. Doc says I've got one more treatment."

Clarke stared in disbelief. It was the burn victim. Only he hardly had any burns at all, just a bandage wrapped around one hand and some redness and blistering on his face. She stared after him in horror, the image of him from three days ago flashing in her mind as she watched him walk away. Clarke's gut churned with the now familiar feelings of dread and suspicion that Mount Weather seemed to continuously cause her. They had healed him, Clarke processed in shock. It couldn't be possible. It wasn't possible.

She sprang to her feet and fled the main hall as nausea started to gnaw at her stomach. She barely paid attention to where she was going as she ran back to the dorm, too distracted by the picture in her mind from three days ago: of burns that were so severe they had the potential to be fatal. And now they were gone. She reached the doors to the dorm without being aware of how she got there and barged through. She ploughed straight into a solid chest.

"Watch it!" a horribly familiar voice barked at her. Clarke stumbled backwards from the force of the impact, slightly dazed and panting for air. "Try looking where you're going Princess." Justin growled at her.

"Get out of my way Justin." Clarke snapped, hurriedly trying to shove her way passed him but he stood firm and pushed her back away from him as he blocked her way.

"You ran into me, you crazy bitch." He snarled at her. "Where's my apology?" he caught her around the waist as she tried once again to storm by him.

"Hey!" An angry roar tore across the room. Clarke and Justin both turned and saw a furious looking Murphy prowling towards them. The white-hot anger blazing in Murphy's eyes seemed to still Justin in place, giving Clarke the chance to push her way passed him and run to Murphy.

The immediate and violent surge of fury that erupted in Murphy at the sight of Justin catching hold of Clarke was almost overpowering. He yelled in rage, moving forward with a sudden violent desire. He closed in on Justin with a deadly intent, a rush of adrenalin shooting through his veins. But then Clarke broke free and darted towards him, and as his focus moved from Justin to Clarke he noticed how pale she was, and that her eyes were round and wild. The swell of rage inside him was burst by a sharp spike of concern. His hunger for violence was quickly forgotten in place of his worry.

Murphy caught her as she barrelled into him, his arms coming around her protectively.

"What happened?" he asked soothingly, watching her with concern. Her hands came up to grip his biceps, her nails biting into his skin as she clung to him. Clarke leaned against him seeking comfort, angling her face into the crook of his neck as she caught her breath. Murphy tightened his arm around her. He glanced over her head, shooting a furious glare at Justin. He watched with some satisfaction as Miller approached Justin with a menacing glare.

"Walk away Justin." He warned him dangerously.

"Whatever man." Justin spat, sneering at Miller. He threw Murphy a disgusted look as he turned away but Murphy's attention was already back on the trembling blonde in front of him.

"The burn victim" she breathed, pulling back far enough to look up at him,

"What?" He frowned in confusion.

"The guy we saw in the medical bay the other day, the survivor from the surface patrol. I just saw him in the main hall, walking around as good as new."

Murphy felt the tension in his muscles uncoil as he realised that nothing had happened to her. She was distressed and panicking but it wasn't because of something anyone had done to her and the relief he felt was overwhelming. His fear and anger soothed, Murphy was able to think about what she was telling him.

"How is that possible?" he asked.

"I have no idea." She whispered, fear making the words quiver as they came out. "I mean it's not. It shouldn't be." Her grip on him tightened, fingers clenching with a spasm of fear. The confusion and apprehension sent a shiver cascading up her spine.

"Come here." Murphy ushered her towards the couches. He sat down, pulling her down with him. Clarke curled into his side, even as her mind whirled with the possibilities of what Mount Weather were hiding, she took comfort from the reassuring weight of his arm wrapped around her and holding her close against him.

She took a deep breath, collecting herself before she continued.

"I think we've been looking for answers in the wrong place."

"You want to search the medical bay? What would they be hiding there?"

"Miracles of medicine apparently." She muttered sarcastically. "I've got an idea." Clarke said in an undertone, "But it's stupid, and dangerous."

"I'm listening." Said Murphy.

"Only patients are allowed in medical." She told him. Murphy's forehead creased with confusion as he nodded for her to go on. "We become patients, we have an accident." She explained. "I'll fall and hit my head or-"

"Uh-uh." Murphy cut her off, shaking his head emphatically "No way! I'll get hurt." He told her firmly. Clarke quirked an eyebrow questioningly.

"So you can get hurt but I can't?" she challenged. He just shrugged and Clarke decided to ignore that for now, not sure whether it was chauvinism or gallantry.

"That would get you into medical, but how do I get there?" Clarke asked.

"I can do it." Murphy told her.

"I'd feel better if we could both go." She said with a frown.

"Well," Murphy started, with the hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, "maybe you get all hysterical when I hurt myself and you faint or something." She sent him a hard stare.

"You want me to faint at the sight of your injury." She said with a tone of irritation that kindled the amusement dancing in Murphy's eyes. "They'll know that I've been the 100's healer, you think they'll buy that I faint?"

"Ok, so, not because of the blood, you faint because you're so worried about me?" He grinned at her.

"You're full of yourself." She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "No." she told him firmly. "Try again. We need it to be believable." Clarke muttered as she thought.

"Believable." Murphy repeated, an idea forming. "I'm a dick." He told her.

"Excuse me?"

"Everyone knows that. I'm always getting into fights." Murphy said, his eyes scanning the room until he spotted Justin. Clarke followed his gaze, her eyebrows shooting up when she realised what he was suggesting. "And you did promise that I could kick his ass the next time." He reminded her with a grin that was dark and menacing, a grin that reminded her of the old Murphy, and that – rather unexpectedly – stirred a flutter of attraction in her stomach.

"I did, didn't I." Clarke agreed distractedly, licking her lips and chewing nervously on her lip. "It's believable." She conceded.

"It's a good plan." He encouraged her.

"You'd still be in medical on your own." Clarke hesitated.

"I can do this." He assured her.

"You'll get hurt for real." She said softly, her brow creasing with concern as she looked into his eyes. "It won't be some kind of staged injury. We're talking about a real fight."

Murphy could plainly see the fear in her eyes, but it wasn't like her earlier fear of Mount Weather - which was a fear of the unknown - this was fear for him. It made his chest swell with emotion. He tenderly cupped a hand around her cheek as he met her stare. He hopped that she could see how much her care for him meant to him, he hoped that she could see how much he cared about her. Because he wasn't good at these things; he wasn't good at telling people how he felt. But he was good at fighting. So he would happily get into a hundred fights if that was how he could help her.

"Don't worry about me." He muttered softly to her as his thumb stroked delicately across her bottom lip. Then a smirk curved across his face and a dark edge of menace glinted in his eyes. "Besides," he said in a low voice that danced along Clarke's skin in a pleasant shiver. "Justin has it coming."


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