Introduction
"Hurry up, Bellamy!" Octavia screamed, desperation creeping into her voice and making a home where it usually was not welcome. The fear seemed out of place coming from her body, which was as rigid and soldier-like as always. She was lean, brown hair flying in the wind from the open window as she shot the weapon in her right hand. She paid special mind to not hit Jasper, whose head stuck out the window behind hers as he shot those who she had her back to.
Her brother, Bellamy, ignored her as he drove the old van from where he sat next to her. Monty was in between them, furiously looking through all the maps they had to find another route. The second row held Lincoln and Jasper. Miller and Murphy were both shooting out of their respective windows in the third row, with Maya organising the group's newest haul on the ground between them. The trunk of the car held the last of them; Clarke trying to take out the bullet lodged in Raven's spine during the getaway and Finn as he shot out the window over the two.
Another sigh left Octavia's lips as she looked between those she was shooting to kill and those who she was shooting to protect. She still remembered the first day the outbreak had reached America. The disease had been around for a while, in other countries, but the government always downplayed it and the citizens, true to tradition, had thought they were invincible. After all, they could handle a little flu.
They couldn't apparently, at least not one like this. It turned healthy men, women, and children into decaying cannibals within mere days. It spread rapidly, and once someone brought it into the borders, it was out of control. The group had only been thirteen at the time, aside from Bellamy and Lincoln who were fifteen. Immediately they'd had to shift their priorities from playgrounds and first kisses to loyalty and survival. Their parents had helped them, hiding and teaching them whatever they could when needed (and eventually, sacrificing themselves). It seemed almost definite that the group of teens would catch the disease or die within the first year. But they hadn't. They'd somehow survived three years of this life.
All of them.
She couldn't remember a time when the 11 of them weren't all together. Their parents had all bought houses on the same street long before any of them had been born, and there was only one private school in the area. They'd all walked to school and back together, did their homework together, went to the park holding hands. Of course, being that close meant that they'd all had arguments over the years but they always managed to pull themselves back together. They were family (not really, of course, that'd be a little incestuous for some of them.)
Octavia's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her friend's bickering. It looked as if they'd lost the zombie-like creatures, so she ducked her head back inside, breathing heavy, as she listened to them.
"Should she be in this much pain?" Finn questioned, anger apparent in his tone.
"Considering the fact that there's a bullet in her spine, yes" Clarke snapped.
"I'm right here, guys." Raven tried to joke, but her voice came out so weak neither of them listened.
"Then get it out."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I don't know, Finn. Maybe because I don't want to paralyze her by doing it in a moving car," She paused for a moment before yelling, "Or maybe because I don't fucking know how."
"Your mother-" Finn stopped abruptly, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air, dangling as dangerous as a noose. He didn't finish, but they all knew what he was going to say 'Your mother would have known'.
"My mother is dead because of you." She seethed.
Their group had been running out of food and medicine, so Finn insisted on getting more. They'd already stolen once that month and doing so again seemed more risky than rewarding. But Finn was sure they could get away with it, and so they'd made the four hour car ride to the abandoned shops. They all should have known not to push their luck, or to not let their guard down. But they'd been tired and hungry, so they did. They did and now Abby was dead, or worse, and Raven was shot.
It wasn't his fault, even Clarke knew, but they were all in a fighting mood. So, the arguing continued. Octavia knew it was just stress and grief (Abby, being the last adult had become a mother to them all) but it worried her still. This wasn't the kind of fight that friends could forgive each other for, it was the kind that tore them apart. Not to mention, Raven was likely going to die. No one said it but they all knew it was true. O wasn't sure that Finn would make it if she didn't; they'd been together for years, and best friends since they could speak. Lately it'd been different though. Not on Raven's part, but on Finn's. And Clarke's. Octavia wasn't sure when Clarke had gotten a part in the romance but, being the blonde's best friend, she could tell that she had one now. She ignored the fact, though. She never even hinted to Clarke that she suspected because, if it were true, it would tear them all apart and she couldn't stand to be the one to cause that.
Glass shattered the almost-peace that had fallen over the group and she turned in enough time to see the slimy creature land on the car. It's claws raked the inside of the vehicle, desperately seeking purchase. Finn flew back as Bellamy attempted to drive faster, knocking Clarke down with him.
Murphy was the first to move, jumping over his seat to land in the trunk, shooting the zombie that had gotten partially inside in the chest. The thing hit the ground right after Finn did. Murphy puts the hot gun back under his waistband, reaching for brunette. "Are you okay?"
Finn's face drops for a second, but he quickly nods "Yea, damn things have no aim." He laughs, a little forced, and eventually they all joined in.
"You're sure he didn't scratch you?" The blonde questions, looking fearfully at all of the exposed skin in her line of vision.
"Positive." Finn grins, as if he didn't just almost die. Once the word leaves his mouth they all breath easier, get back to work. There's already been too much death today, more than there has been in a long time.
"Good, I couldn't lose you too." Clarke's hands are already back to trying to staunch Raven's blood, mind already past the argument for now.
Monty finds a working route to the tiny cabin Abby had said they were going to, and eventually they reach it. "Everyone stay close to the car, there might be some around here." Bellamy orders, doing a quick perimeter check.
When he comes back, Maya and Clarke are working on the still sobbing, still trying to pretend she isn't sobbing, Raven near the small fire. Octavia and Lincoln sit on the porch holding hands. The image cause a roll of Bellamy's eyes. He still didn't like the idea of his best friend dating his little sister, but it was impossible to not see how in love they are. He looks around and sees that all the others are inside, aside from Murphy whose silhouette disappears into the forest.
The older boy immediately follows him. He blames it on his brotherly instincts, but he knows their isn't anything brotherly about the way Murphy makes him feel. He makes it about 10 feet into the tree line before he finds Murphy, the boy's gun held up at him. Bellamy would be worried, but he sees the flicker of recognition in his eyes.
"Slow down there, hot shot." He teases as the younger boy lowers his weapon.
"You shouldn't tease someone who has you at gunpoint, Bell's." Murphy laughs, the sound seeming much too shaky, even to his own ears.
"Technically," He smirks, "you don't have me at gunpoint any more." He sits on the dirt near Murphy, watching as the brunette follows suit.
"Valid point."
Bellamy nods, because really it's an ingenious thing to say. "So what are you doing out here?"
He's known Murphy long enough to notice the immediate tension that straightens his spine, how his eyes find the ground like they do when he's lying to one of his friends. "Just taking first watch."
It gets quiet after that. Neither is sure how long it's been, but it's obvious that their shift has long since been over when the dark sky starts to lighten. Each hour brings them a little closer, until Murphy's laying against his friend's knees, which are pulled up to his chest; the elder's hand shifting through his hair. It reminds him of when they were younger and Bellamy'd had an obsession with learning to braid on Murphy's hair, so he could help O do her own.
Those were simpler times; when they didn't know how to do hair, let alone hold a weapon. When division seemed as hard as survival does now.
Murphy's eyes began to droop just as Bellamy spoke, "So, what are you really doing out here?" He says it lightly, even though they both know its anything but.
Murphy looked up and got hopelessly distracted by Bellamy's eyes. The man was gorgeous, had been for as long as he could remember, and Murphy was still suffering from his playground crush. Sometimes he thought Bellamy felt it too, but he had to remind himself that Bellamy looked at everyone like that. He was just a caring person.
He also had to remind himself that their lives were about more than relationships now and that any distraction could be deadly. It worked, and he swallowed the lump in his throat as he stood. "I'm kinda beat, so I'll send people back to take our place. Night, Bell's."
Bellamy sighed, but muttered back a "Good night, Murph." back. It was light out as he settled back down, disappointment flooding his body. The trees were quiet, peaceful.
He wondered when they'd get to be like that again.