Taming Chaos // J.M // The 100

Chapter 45

Harley barely looks up from the clipboard in his hands.

"You boys good?" 

Murphy nods. He glances at Ethan, contemplating, then he actually leans down to scoop a carton of food into his arms, "Where does this one go?" He turns to Harley, sounding carefully bored.

"Farm Station," The man nods his thanks.

"Right. . ." Murphy drags out, "Might as well finish off this stupid act."

And pay for being allowed in this damn camp, he thinks.

"Remind me to fix your hair." Ethan jokes, wandering gaze fixed on his back.

Murphy scoffs, heading out of earshot.

"Act?"

Ethan retrieves one of the metal cups set on the barrel, "One of the guard's was bothering us, so we used this as an excuse." Then, remembering that Harley himself is a guard, he adds, "Not that- you know- not that all guards are bad or anything- or that we weren't going to help, because we were, just-"

"Michael, right?" Harley leans forward, brown hair lighter in the sun when he starts tugging something out of his belt. "Come to me if he tries anything."

And he pulls out Murphy's yellow and grey knife. A singular piece of the dropship brought with them.

Ethan's eyes widen. Wordlessly, he reaches for the blade -

Harley seizes his arm before he can take the weapon and Ethan refuses to flinch because the hold is gentle, more curious than anything. Turning his wrist to examine the bandages, a copy of his other arm.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Ethan meets Harley's hardened gaze.

"If he tries anything else." He specifies.

Ethan nods sharply.

Harley releases his grip on the kid to pass the blade over, handle smacking into an open palm.

Smiling with the added weight, Ethan swings it around a single finger. It makes him feel at home again, back when things were at least slightly easier and he was surrounded by people close to his age. The delinquents, more his people than the Ark ever was.

"Thanks." He really should give the weapon back to its rightful owner, Murphy, but once tucked into his boot, he feels a sense of calm.

Harley nods, pointing at the water he'd originally been aiming for. "Drink up."

Wandering over, Ethan fills his cup halfway, then sculls it hastily until the last drop because Murphy's already on his way back and things would go a lot faster with both of them tanking boxes back and forth.

Thumping the cup onto the barrel, Ethan's back beside Harley. "Rations, I'm guessing?" He picks up two bags of something heavy, swinging them over a shoulder. It pulls at his stitched arm so he switches sides, more weight on his left than his right.

"Mmh," Harley points his pen in the direction of Farm Station.

Ethan nods, "Alrighty."

When he walks past Murphy, the latter's eyes stuck on the ground, he turns his head and grins, "Try to keep up, pretty boy."

Murphy scoffs, eyes a little wider when he swings his head over his shoulder to follow Ethan. They share a gaze, narrowed with a sudden challenge. Pulling away, he walks a little faster to collect his next item, directions called out half-heartedly by Harley on the way out.

He also happens to be the first one back. Hydra being right next door.

Most of what sits with Harley had been collected from the crash sight, all Ark supplies rather than recently picked berries or nuts from beyond the gates. Either way, if they end up leaving, the stations need to sort through what items to bring and what to leave behind. A risky decision and not enough hands.