Knife cutting a hole in his back pocket, Murphy gripped Clarke's hand as she opened the door. "Don't yell," she said. "Murphy's always telling me that yelling helps nothing and he's right."
"Clarke, what happened to you?" Jaha tried to touch her face, but she leaned away from him.
Her laugh was manic and wild. "Scorch the ground and rip out the heart of mine enemies while kissing them good-night."
Murphy saw the worry in Thelonious' expression. "This is a good day, but don't make sudden moves or loud noises. Those freak her out."
Thelonious noted Clarke's vise grip on John's hand. "Thank you. Can we sit? I've been looking for you, hoping you could help me with a problem that's global in scale."
Murphy stretched his hand out to the living room. "Our casa is not your casa, but take a load off for a while, why not?" They made their way to the living room. Jaha sat in the chair and swiveled it to face them. Clarke sat on the arm of the sofa still holding John's hand as he stood next to her like a sentinel.
"John, you came on a journey with me looking for a better a life. While you may have found that better life, all life is in jeopardy. There's a… person… trying to put an end to all of it."
"Let me get this straight, you came looking for me to help you save the world? And now that you know Clarke's here and needs my care round the clock, you're still going to ask." Clarke yanked his arm in disapproval. "The world really must be in dire straits. So what do you think we can do?"
"But they'd croak, too. Flop like fishes out of water, no way to breathe." Clarke wrapped her arms around Murphy's one arm, pulling him down like a tree bending in the wind.
He ran his fingers through her hair. "Clarke's got a point. Wouldn't they die too?"
"They want only silicone based life to continue."
"AI-n-g-o," Clarke melancholily sang. "They're a computer."
"Yes, but the AI isn't stable. Alie wants to burn what she calls biological relics down, leaving only mechanical life."
"Why don't you pull the plug?" Murphy asked.
"Her power source is guarded by armed droids. Anything living that makes it within ten meters gets gunned down. That will never work." Jaha shook his head and rested his thumb against his chin.
"Nothing living." Clarke giggled. "Hoist her on her own petard. Use a machine to get past her droids. If she's so mechanically inclined, kill her with a machine."
Murphy watched Clarke come alive as she stood up and rattled off ideas. "We have a radio here. It's supposed to be long distance. If we can get Raven on the line, she could tell us what to do, or better yet, she'd love to come and do it herself. And, and Wick. He's an engineer. But we need to make sure they get past the not so nice Nessy and bring no one else. No, no one else. That'd be too much. Too too much. John! Don't let them bring anyone else. Please."
John pulled her into a hug. "We haven't even talked to them yet. But if we do, I'll make sure that it's Raven and Wick and no one else."
"Gotta hurry up and save the world. Make Raven tired and give her a headache. But she's friends with Mom and Mom's all about saving the world. Save the world with machines against machines." This time she started crying and shouting. "Raven likes a challenge if it means blowing something up. I should have blown them up. They suffered so much."
Thelonious got up and reached out to her, only to have her scream at him to go away. He looked at John. "Is she like this all the time?"
"Some days are better than others. I need to get her calmed down and hopefully to sleep. If you have nowhere else, take the couch. But the conversation is over for tonight." Murphy talked as he guided a still ranting Clarke to the bedroom.
"If you take advantage of her…"
Clarke attacked Jaha, raking her fingernails down the side of his face. "Don't accuse when you don't know!" She shouted that over and over until Murphy picked her up and carried her away, shutting the door between her and Thelonious.
He set her on the bed and caressed her face. "He's just worried about you, and he doesn't know what we're like here together. He's never seen the two of us interact, let alone seen that we trust each other."
"I'll kill him if he tries anything stupid." Clarke's venom worried him. She wasn't usually keen on hurting anyone. She apologized to the fish they caught, and the birds they snared.
"Clarke, shh, why don't you change into your nightshirt. You're still drenched from standing in the rain earlier. You'll feel better once you warm up." And he couldn't believe he'd become someone's mother hen. When did John Murphy get a maternal streak? And since when did that streak preclude all the prime wank material he'd saved up helping her shower?
And as it would have to be tonight, she wound him up more, stripping down to nothing in front of him before putting on the pajama shirt and nothing else with an extra sashay to her movements. She crawled into bed and got under the covers. "My feet are still cold."
Tonight, after he changed into the matching bottoms to her top, he left room between them for the first time. And when she closed that gap, throwing a leg over his and wrapping her arm around his chest, he swallowed as another part of him swelled. It would be a long night.
He had to stop her hand when it began a journey southward. "No."
Clarke lifted her head and looked him in the eye, light from under the door enough to see that much. "John. This is me. You're not taking advantage."
"But why would you want to?" he asked as he shot off the bed.
"Why wouldn't I? This is what I wanted to tell you when we were on the balcony." she knelt on the bed facing him. "I care about you so much, John Murphy. I never knew you had this kind of nurturing buried under all that sarcasm and hate. You aren't the guy that pissed on someone anymore. That guy died somewhere along the way. And I'm dead too. Why shouldn't we take what life and living we can in each other?"
"Because!" He sucked in a breath and counted to stop from shouting anymore. "Because you only want me because you're fucking out of your mind. And I don't get with people that don't actually want me too." His rage while not loud, hissed its contempt. "So do me a favor and sleep on your own side of the bed tonight."
"Take a shower and take care of yourself," she suggested with a tone laced with hurt and sadness.
"Can't do that. Your clear moments, if you haven't noticed, don't last long. Or aren't completely sane. Or both, either, both. You know what I mean." He turned his back to her, hand on hip, looking at the ceiling. "I hate this so much."
"You said that out loud."
"I know I did."
"I'm sorry. I'll do better. I'll try harder. If I'm getting confused again, we'll figure out a way for you to let me know and I'll stop." She stood up and grabbed his hand, something she'd done a million times or more, but this time he pulled away, something he'd never done before. "I'll go. If you'd be happier without me, I'll go then you don't have to worry about Crazy Clarke and her veers into the deeply disturbed."
She dropped to her knees and rooted through the closet floor looking for the clothes she arrived in. "I'll go out the way I came in. Another eye for a prize. I deserve another eye prize, right? Wait no, he's upset. Gotta make John happy again. Gotta make. Make. Gotta go."
Murphy knelt down next to her, turning her to face him. "I'm sorry, Clarke. The stress finally got to me. Don't go. You can sleep on your side of the bed for a night, right?"
She hugged her raggy half destroyed clothes to her chest. "Yes."
He tucked her into her side of the bed, unable to unclench her hands from the ball of fabric from the closet. Then he slipped under the covers on his side, and closed his eyes, daring sleep to skip him. If it did dare, well he was in the mood for a fight. Now he was starting to sound just as bat-shit crazy as she did.