Chapter 44
They'd gone off to Tondc in the middle of the night. I told them to take care, and I wanted to say the same to Raven but she sat on that cart alone and looked like she didn't want to see anyone. So I didn't. I did manage to fall asleep after that, though it was near dawn breaking, and it had to have been all the crying that had exhausted me into oblivion. As expected, the sleep was riddled with nightmares - and I'd wake up only to find the pillow still smell of Bellamy, which made it worse - but at least it was sleep.
It's the morning after Finn has died, and I've slept it through. I wake up around noon, too thirsty and just a bit hungry and with the skin on my face feeling too tight and a headache that threatens to knock me back out. For that one moment between dream and reality, I've forgotten everything - where I am and what has happened and why I feel like I've been floated and brought back into an airlock. And then, somewhere in between getting up and splashing my face with water, it all comes back. I regret ever waking up, but decide to suck it up and be useful, start preparing for what's coming.
They won't get to Tondc in another day, that's for sure. The next time I wake up and spend the day keeping busy, somewhere around sundown, Finn's body will have burned to ashes. That's not a pleasant thought, but it's inescapable. Even so, I actively try to push it back, every time it comes up.
Dad seems to be keeping an eye on me at all times he can, thinking I don't notice. It irks me; it's like he's afraid I'll have a sudden mental breakdown out of nowhere or something. But I ignore it and let him, focusing on whatever it is I'm doing in that moment. Staying focused on tasks at hand is helpful; not that I have any other option - it's my only coping technique.
I haven't seen Murphy all day - he has to be on some menial task of his own; he always gets the shit jobs around. I've been wanting to seek him out all day long, but I ignore my urge. It's not like I have any idea what to say to him even. The urge itself is too confusing with everything I'm dealing with at the moment, and it's probably there because he's the only one that stayed back that actually knows and understands and shares everything that's happened with me. And if I sought him out at some point we'd have had to talk about Finn and everything that's happened, and I'm not ready for that. Some gaps just can't be bridged, he said, but I feel the gap between us diminishing with every passing moment, and that too is too much to deal with for the time being.
The day ends fast enough, and I've done my best to stay on my feet and keep my hands busy all until I'm sure to be too exhausted to spend any time thinking and staring at the tent canvas above before sleep takes me. It seems to work. I wonder if I'm being a coward - not facing Tondc, not facing Raven, not facing Murphy. But I decide it's necessary to put me back together and pull me back from the edge, to keep me sane until this whole thing's through, because I will be needed one of these days and soon, and when the time comes a loose cannon will be useful to no one.
I need to put myself back together.
*
''Just don't step over this line,'' I draw with a stick in the dirt, ''Stand straight, like that. Don't clutch the bow like that,'' I adjust Monroe's wrist - she has the patience that truly baffles me, ''Move the wrist outside, out of the line. Keep the elbow out too. Nothing can stand in line with the arrow, alright?''
''Okay, I got it,'' she says with a nod, but when she loosens it's all wrong again.
''I did everything you said!'' she defends.
''Your posture wasn't the problem, it was your pulling arm,'' I sigh, showing her what she did, ''You pulled back with your shoulder instead of your arm, that's not only wrong and messing up your aim, but it's gonna hurt if you keep it up. You need to pull it back like this, so that your elbow is higher than your shoulder. You're pulling back with your arm, not your shoulder.''
''Crap.''
''Come on, you can do it. Octavia did it on the first try, I swear.''
''Octavia's a Grounder,'' she grumbles, aiming again, ''She's good at everything.''
''Cute joke, now stay focused. You're one of the best gunners we have, your aim shouldn't be a problem. I don't see how Octavia's better at that.''
''Well, Grounders don't have guns.''
''Ha ha,'' I almost roll my eyes, ''Loose.''
She looses, and this time she hits the designated X on the post, although not even near the center.
''Progress,'' I hear dad say behind us. Monroe's fist hits the air, like she's achieved her biggest personal victory.
''What are you doing here, dad? Aren't you supposed to be re-wiring that mess we call the control room?''
''What, I can't take a break to watch my daughter do the thing I taught her when she was a kid?'' he smiles as he leans against the wall, arms crossed on his chest.
''Yeah, you should have seen the bow I made,'' I smile, ''You'd pretend you've never met me.''
Dad laughs wholeheartedly, ''Can't be that bad!''
''Yeah, it kind of was until Monty dolled it up,'' Monroe looses another arrow, eager to practice now that she's getting the hang of it. It's a better shot this time.
''Well, it served me well enough,'' I remember the night of the battle, the smile dropping off my face immediately. Dad must have noticed, because he claps his hands together and puts on his excited demeanor like he's not going to let it fly.
''Well, I believe I haven't shot a bow in years now, but,'' he smiles and rolls up his sleeves, ''What do ya say about a little tournament?''
I don't feel like it at all - I still just want to curl up somewhere and sleep life away - but I indulge him, if not for me.
''You kidding me?'' I grin, ''With all due respect, dad; you just signed up for an ass-kicking.''
*
By sundown of the second day my people are away, I'm sure Finn is gone and has turned to ashes. I planned not to think about it, to keep busy through it, but once I realize what time it is and once I see the sun draw back behind the mountaintops, I am pretty sure; and it all just wins over me. It's overwhelming, and I need to be alone, but at Camp Jaha you're never truly alone. I don't think Byrne or any of the guards will let me walk out by myself at a time like this, so I have to sneak out of camp, hoping dad won't notice I'm gone too soon.
The trees welcome me like oldest friends.
There was a time when the trees frightened me, when they frightened us all. There was a time when none of us ever walked out of camp without fear, even in groups or armed to the teeth. The trees were shadows and deceit and death. Danger always lurked among them, or in them. The shade they provided always hid the demons from us, the amount of land they covered all around us made us feel small and trapped. You could never trust the trees.
But now they bring me peace, they calm me. The trees are still shadows, deceit and death; that may not have necessarily changed, not yet. But I have. And I know that whatever lurks among them, I am now a beast in my own right. I was a lamb. Now I'm a wolf.
A lone wolf is a weak wolf though, but I'm sure I have nothing to worry about now that the truce is in progress - not from the Grounders at least. Bow and quiver slung on my back and a small knife sheathed on my belt, I walk on toward the creek.
I've walked days in pretty much all directions by now, and I am sure the forest still has to stretch further on and on. I can still get lost, if not careful; I could still lose the big picture of this place that has been our unstable home all this time. The forest is vast, the mountains in all directions, but I could never mistake Mount Weather for any other. That one I could point to without looking. If eyes could burn, by now there would be nothing left of it. But I tear my eyes away from it. No use now.
The creek I come to has to be the same that stretches near the Drop-Ship, the same one Wells and I found when we first came here. I crouch and dip my fingers in the clear cold water. Thinking of Wells is strange, he feels so distant now. For a moment I think that maybe he was spared, maybe he was better off because he might have been trapped in the Mountain now or killed in the battle like so many of us or he might have been tortured or who knows what. But that thought is all wrong. He deserved a shot. The shot that he was unfairly denied. In a way we all suffered for it - Clarke, Finn, Charlotte, Bellamy, John, me, Connor, Myles... it stretches on, like a chain.
Wells and Finn would have been great friends, I smile at the realization. And maybe if Wells had stayed alive, Finn would still be alive too. That changes the smile into a frown. I can't go there. Who knows how different things would have been with Wells, and there is no point in thinking about it. My heart is already heavy enough.
My chain of thoughts is cut short. When I hear the sound of someone stepping behind me, I know drawing the bow would be too slow, and I'll likely be dead. So in one swift motion and turn of my body, my hand is already up and drawn ready to throw the knife.
''Woah there,'' Murphy puts up his palms, ''Easy.''
''What are you doing here?'' I sheath my knife.
''Well, I saw you sneak out,'' he drawls, stepping forward carefully to join me, ''And since it's getting dark and you went out alone, I figured just in case,'' he shrugs, hands in his pockets, ''No need, apparently. Good luck to the next guy that comes close behind you.''
''I could have killed you,'' I grumble, sitting down on the bank, resigned. He follows as casually as he always did.
''Eh, probably better than a life of mopping floors and shoveling shit.''
A huff escapes me at that, and I can't help a small smirk. But I don't say anything. And I don't have it in me to bicker with Murphy anyway.
''What, you're not gonna tell me I deserve to shovel shit for the rest of my life?''
''Is that why you're so obsessed with staying clean? The shit shoveling?''
He smiles, though it looks like he tries to fight it. ''You'd be, too.''
''Probably,'' I admit, ''I'm glad you're okay.''
It came out before I could stop it. Unplanned and without allowance. It's the truth though. Murphy and sickness have a long history that no one deserves to suffer through again. I'm glad he's coping with it all. I don't want him to go completely nuts.
''Yeah,'' he only says, wiping his hands against his pants the way he did every now and then. Well, it's better than the whole hand-scrubbing fiasco anyway.
''How about you?'' he asks after a pause filled with nothing but forest noise, ''You okay?''
''Nah,'' I say - might as well be honest throughout, ''But I'm gonna be. I'm gonna have to be.''
''Yeah, well, you've always been the strong one,'' he says, more quietly, like he's said it to himself rather than me. I don't know what to say to that, so I don't say anything.
But then it comes to me.
''Thank you,'' I say, my voice sounding so small suddenly, surprising me a bit.
''For what?''
''For trying to stop Finn,'' I say, ''For giving a damn. Even though you had more reason to hate the Grounders than any of us.''
''Well, I didn't stop him,'' he throws a pebble into the water, ''If I had, spacewalker would still be alive.''
''That's not on you,'' I shake my head - the water reflects the moon so beautifully now. The chill in the air gives me goosebumps, but it brings me calm as well. I watch the water more than I watch Murphy. I need the peace.
''Yeah, well... still makes me feel like shit.''
I turn to look at him then. He looks like the words have escaped him before he could stop them, like they've betrayed him.
''That day, you asked me if I feel like shit,'' he continues now that the cat is out of the bag, ''I've thought about it.''
''And?''
''If by shit you mean regret, I'm not sure,'' he says, ''Payback felt good. But not in the long run.''
''Temporary satisfaction,'' I nod, the thoughts of Connor and Myles and then Bellamy making me want to inch away from him again, but I make myself sit still.
''Yeah,'' he says, ''You're high on it for a while but once it wears off, the void is still there.''
He was hurt beyond repair, and he thought payback would make it okay again, but it made everything worse. He knows that now too. The void he tried to fill couldn't have ever been filled with revenge. Voids like that can only be filled with love, I know. And that's why he's still empty.
''So, I wouldn't say I feel like shit,'' he continues on, as though to make us forget what he's just said as quickly as possible, ''The only thing I really felt like shit about was Raven.''
''Well, if you hadn't shot her you would have shot the rocket fuel and killed us all on spot, so be glad.''
I regret saying that the moment it escapes my mouth. Be glad? Fuck. It had been the better scenario, but it's now Raven's waking nightmare, her living hell. She doesn't deserve it.
''Fuck,'' he breathes, barely audibly, running his hands over his face.
''She let you off the hook but she has plenty of reasons to be pissed at you,'' I add, ''So what happened that day at the Drop-Ship... It was shitty, but even you should be able to see where it's coming from.''
''I know. She fucked up when she invited you to come along though,'' he says, ''I know how that would have ended. Hell, I see it every night.''
''What? Murphy, no, with or without me, that never would have happened,'' I shake my head, ''Bellamy would have never let that happen. Clarke especially.''
''Ya sure? You think your boyfriend would have fought for me so fiercely if you hadn't been there?''
''Screw you, John,'' I growl at him, pissed now, ''Bellamy forgave you everything. If he hadn't, you'd be dead by now, guards or no guards. You think he'd let you walk among us if he thought you posed a threat to any of us? He'd get to you if it meant his own life.''
I pause enough to give him a chance to say something back, but he's staring off, not even trying to open his mouth.
''I know that whole thing with Raven brought shit back fresh for you. I know you went to hell and back with the Grounders, and the nightmares can't be easy. But you and Bellamy? You're fine. I know him. He forgave you, the way you forgave him that day you saved his life. And I'm grateful for that. But we're all scarred, John. I tire myself enough to not be able to stay awake and think, but then when I fall asleep I wish I never had. We all have scars, and we've all done bad things. Just be happy someone's forgiven you yours.''
We sit in silence for a while after that, just listening to the water and the birds and the leaves rustling in the breeze and every now and then I can hear the sound of an owl stand out. It's comfortable silence, but it's probably because both of us are too drained to feel anything else but peace in the moment. We're too weak to fight, too weak to argue. Too much has happened.
''And what about you?'' he breaks the silence.
''What about me?''
''Do you forgive me?''
My heart leaps. I can't.
''Working on it.''