Half Light
Chapter Three: Half Light
At the edge of the treeline, the grounders stepped away from Murphy. All except one. Murphy studied him, then shrunk a little. "You're going to make it seem like I escaped, aren't you," Murphy said, posing it not as a question but as an observation. The grounder responded by driving his knee into Murphy's gut, causing him to lose all the air in his lungs. He gasped, clutching his stomach. The grounder took a knife and cut Murphy's shoulder.
He cried out, his hand clamping over the wound.
"Was that really necessary?" He snapped at the grounder, but he was already walking away, Murphy forgotten.
Still hunched over, Murphy emerged from the treeline with blood slipping through his fingers. Hatred burned inside him as he thought of the grounders, but the hatred grew even stronger when he thought about the people inside the walls of Arkadia.
The people who finally noticed him staggering toward them.
"Finally," he mumbled to himself as the gate opened and two soldiers jogged out to him. One was Harper and her reaction didn't surprise him in the slightest. She was disgusted, but also shocked he was even alive.
"We need a medic," Harper spoke into her radio as she and the other soldier helped Murphy along. As he entered Arkadia's walls, he looked around. It was nearly sunset, but no one seemed to be around. Harper noticed his glances, and explained, "There's an execution outside the walls scheduled to take place."
Murphy stumbled at the words, shocked. "Whose execution?" He asked, his voice hollow.
"Lincoln's," Harper told him. Murphy felt his mouth dry up as he looked back outside the walls. "You won't be able to see them." She continued to usher them along. "Pike took him out behind Arkadia and right now there's a curfew. You need to be inside."
He let her lead him into the hospital wing, onto an open bed. He noticed there were a lot of sick and dying Arkadians, but no grounders seemed to be around. He guessed that Pike was executing all of them. He wasn't feeling very bad about having to kill him.
Abby Griffin was the one to see him.
"Murphy," she breathed, staring at him in bewilderment. "How did you..."
"Well, you see, I did it no thanks to any of you." He gave her his best glare, but then winced as she started to cut away the material around his arm. "They tried to stop me but I got out. Barely," he explained of the injury.
Abby got to work on it immediately, cleaning it up and giving him stitches. Murphy stayed silent for the most part, but toward the end, Abby could tell he was itching to say something. "What is it?" She asked him.
Murphy cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at Abby. "I saw Clarke," he said. Abby froze. "She's fine, she's still with the Commander. Clarke helped me escape."
The woman's hands shook, no doubt remembering how Clarke chose to stay with Lexa over coming back to her own people. "Did she say anything?" Abby asked, focused on Murphy's injuries.
He just shrugged in partial response, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone else was paying any attention. He changed the subject, asking, "I hear Lincoln is being executed. Why?"
Abby's expression was sad. "He staged an uprising and Pike called it treason."
Murphy winced. He was supposed to kill Pike, but the man would be on high alert from here on out. He wasn't sure how he'd be able to do it and in time to satisfy the Commander. He knew how she could get when she was angry and he wanted to avoid that as much as possible.
"Take it easy with your shoulder, okay?" Abby gave his hand a squeeze.
Before she could walk away, Murphy grabbed it. "Abby, I need to talk to you." The intensity of his gaze and the low tone of voice made Abby realize that this was sensitive and serious. She gave a nod, motioning for him to follow her.
They walked down a hall before Abby let Murphy into her sleeping quarters. "What is it?" She asked.
"I need to kill Pike. And Jaha." Murphy said it outright, carefully watching her reaction. She didn't give him much of one, but instead, she nodded in agreement but kept a watchful eye on him.
"Did Clarke send you to do this?" She questioned.
Murphy shook his head no. "Lexa did."
Abby let out a breath of air. Murphy decided that it was because she didn't want Clarke to make that decision, the decision to end someone's life. He wanted to tell her that Clarke was changed and that she agreed with Lexa's decision and didn't really question it. Clarke was a killer too.
"No one can get close to him," Abby started. "Everyone that's tried has failed. And the only way you'll be able to kill both of them is if you start with Pike. That way, you won't be tried with the murder of Jaha."
"You're not going to kill me?" Murphy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Abby stared hard at him. "There are some sacrifices that we have to make and some decisions that might not essentially align with moral codes, but they're necessary regardless."
Murphy snorted at her explanation. "That's a funny way of saying you're going to turn a blind eye to the murders," he told her.
"Would you rather I throw you in prison? Execute you?"
"What does it matter?" Murphy snapped. "I've been dead for a long time."
The silence grew in the room as the two stared each other down. Abby wasn't sure what to say and Murphy was pleased with having rendered the doctor silent. It amused him, though he didn't show it.
"Pike will want to talk to you and get as much information as he can get on the grounders. You have to figure out a way to get him alone," Abby decided, standing up straight.
Murphy raised an eyebrow. "Then what? Strangle him to death?"
Abby didn't miss a beat, saying, "you're resourceful, or you wouldn't have survived this long." She paused a moment, thinking of what to say. "People have been trying to kill you for the longest time, John, and you've managed to stay alive. I trust you'll find something useful here to aid you." And with that, she turned on her heel and left her room.
Murphy ran his good hand through his hair before pinching the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. Then, he stood up and started rummaging around Abby's room, her words echoing in his head. "I trust you'll find something useful here to aid you." He checked the drawers and the closet, the bedside table, before pausing a moment. He stuffed his hands underneath the mattress, searching. Then, into the pillowcases. One of his hands hit something cool and hard.
Drawing it out, he looked at an old pistol. It was small and looked ancient as if it would be a fifty-fifty chance that it would even work. He checked the chambers, revealing that it was completely loaded.
"Thanks, Abby," Murphy mumbled before sticking the gun in the waistband of his pants.
He frowned at it, knowing that Pike would have him searched for any weapons before he would be permitted to see him. An idea struck in his head. He hurried after Abby, gently grabbing her elbow. She flinched but realized it was Murphy.
"Give me a sling," Murphy said under his breath. "I'll hide the gun in it."
Abby didn't say anything, didn't even nod. She just kept walking and checked once to see if Murphy was following. Satisfied, she pulled a sling out from a drawer and began to fasten it on him. Murphy began to relax. This could work. This will work, it'll have to.
Clarke and Lexa were having an argument. Well, Clarke wouldn't call it an argument, per se, but a heated discussion would be an appropriate name for it.
"Lexa," Clarke said her name slowly in the calmest way that she could. "There is absolutely no way I'm going to let you talk to Titus right now. Or at all tonight." Clarke tried to find some sort of understanding look in Lexa's eye but found none. Instead, she was staring at the Commander.
Lexa kept her head held high. "That is a decision that I am making as the Commander, regardless of your feelings for me. I understand you want to keep me safe, but Titus will not harm me again."
Losing her patience, Clarke huffed, "it's not just about my feelings for you, Lexa! This is about the fact that any sort of movement could cause my stitching to break and that means you're going to be put at risk of dying. Again." Clarke couldn't understand why Lexa wouldn't just listen to her.
Lexa seemed to consider this, almost succumbing, but shook her head and remained firm. "I'm sorry, Clarke. I have to do this."
"Fine. Then I'm coming with you," Clarke decided, crossing her arms on her chest defiantly.
That didn't seem to bother Lexa as much as Clarke wanted it to. The brunette shrugged her shoulders and began taking slow, careful, yet poised steps out of her room. Her guards stood straighter at the sight of her and Lexa made a great show of pretending to not be injured in the slightest.
All the while, Clarke was practically panicking. At any moment Lexa's stitches could burst and send her into shock and possibly have her bleed out. She wondered how many times she would have to save her life.
Lexa entered the throne room to find Titus seated, staring off into space until she entered. He stood at once, making fast steps toward Lexa until she held up her hand, to which he paused.
Clarke watched the expressions of the guards in the room, how they seemed to notice the tension although they kept their stoic expressions.
"Titus, you have committed an act of treason by attempting to murder Wanheda, and in turn killing me before Wanheda brought me back to life," Lexa spoke with strength.
Others in the room went still, their faces in pure shock. No one seemed to have seen this coming, and to be honest, Clarke wouldn't have either.
"Heda I--"
"Silence!" Lexa's voice echoed throughout the throne room.
Clarke watched her protectively, trying to notice any shrink of her stature that would indicate that the shout had caused her pain. Of course, she found none. But that didn't mean that it wasn't there underneath the surface.
"The punishment for treason is death, as is our custom," Lexa reminded him. "Death by a thousand cuts."
Titus didn't seem to shake or show any fear. In fact, he seemed angry. Livid, even. Clarke felt the hair on the back of her neck go up, almost like a cat or dog's would if they felt threatened.
"It is a mistake to keep Wanheda alive but execute me, Heda," he told her.
This angered Lexa. "I no longer require your service or counsel, Titus. You have no right to speak to me about what you perceive to be as mistakes on my part. I am Heda, I am the Commander and you will do as I say." The fury in her voice was obvious.
Clarke felt herself inching forward, if only just to remind Lexa to take it easy because even the strain of yelling could pop her stitches or at the very least cause her a considerable amount of pain.
Lexa turned to face the men posted around her throne room. "Guards, throw him in a cell. I will execute him in the square at dawn." She turned fast, walking with angry purpose out of the throne room. Clarke flinched, her mind screaming for Lexa to slow down and relax.
She followed her dutifully back into her room, closing the door behind them. When she turned back around, Lexa had one hand against the wall and the other hovered over her abdomen. Her face was etched with pain.
Wordlessly, Clarke moved to help her to the bed.
"I suppose this is the part where you say I told you so, isn't it?" Lexa grimaced. Clarke only shook her head, her lips pursed with worry. "It's just a bit of pain, Clarke. It'll fade," Lexa tried to reassure her, but Clarke was already lifting her shirt up to check her stitches. Her dressings were due for a change anyway.
Clarke breathed a breath of relief at the sight of Lexa's stitches still intact. "You're lucky," Clarke mumbled, wrapping Lexa up with new bandages.
Lexa smiled smugly. "I knew it'd be fine."
"I'm still not wrong," Clarke told her, annoyed. "If you keep putting this kind of strain on yourself, your recovery time is going to be a lot longer than it should be."
"And how long would you say my recovery time is, healer?" Lexa asked her in a light, teasing tone.
Clarke wasn't really in the mood. "Two to three weeks for a complete recovery, but at this rate with all your strenuous activity that you do and refuse to listen to me about, you could be looking at four to six weeks." Lexa winced, her light expression fading. Clarke felt a pang of sympathy. "Hey," she said softly, taking Lexa's hand in her own. "The important thing is that you'll recover. And you'll have me around just in case you decide to do something stupid and bust your stitches," Clarke teased her.
Lexa looked at her, curious. "You'll stay?" She asked.
This caught Clarke off guard. She said she would stay, didn't she?
"Yes, I'm going to be staying a while," she answered quietly. It felt right to say that. It felt good to tell Lexa that she would stay, and Clarke felt a burst of sudden excitement in her body. She'd be staying here with Lexa.
No matter how difficult and confusing their relationship was...or perhaps still is, Clarke felt as if they were on the path of creating something definite, something with structure. Something Clarke could rely on. And the prospect of that greatly excited her.
She wanted to stay with Lexa, that was for sure. And it was clear Lexa wanted her to stay, too.