Never Close Your Eyes

TC 🔒: C. 44

| Chapter Forty-Four |

"You're busy and the others will be expecting us. We're kinda important." Murphy's voice had a know-it-all attitude translated into his words.

Content written across his relaxed eyebrows told (Y/N) all she needed to know. He was back in control. Murphy knew he could keep the Z on the captor long enough for them to exit the building.

That was more than enough time for them to track the others, especially since that's what (Y/N) excelled in. By the time the man got his gear, they would hopefully be with the group, in another town.

"Have I been talking to myself?!" Dean growled to his allies, becoming breathless between the wrestling with the Z and his newfound anger with Murphy, "You are their pawn! Nothing more!"

Murphy didn't think twice as he took a step up—hand still laced with (Y/N)'s, "I am nobody's pawn!"

The aggression made (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat, sensing a new trigger with Murphy.

'He needs control.' She thought, noting it for later.

As if holding her hand sent his anger straight to her emotions, (Y/N)'s (S/C) lip rose to the occasion. Murphy was a lot of things, but he was still human.

Releasing her tangled hand with Murphy's, she walked up to the collector. A small twinge of hope rose to the stranger when he noticed his favorite doll going for him, he just knew he had her hooked.

When he thought she was going to assist in the Z, who didn't pay her any mind, (Y/N) kicked her leg out and hit him square in the nose. Blood squirted out, making the zombie go craze.

The man almost lost his grip on the little rein he had on his competition, but the aggression he began to feel after the assault unlocked strength.

The kick wasn't as hard as she planned it to be, but the slip-on shoes really dulled her strength. Nevertheless, (Y/N) was content to seeing his blood spill.

"That's for changing my clothes without consent."

She went to spit on him, but it fell in the Z's balding head instead. She felt disgusted but walked back towards Murphy as the Collector growled in frustration.

"We'll show ourselves out. It's a left, left, down the stairs and to the right. Right?" Murphy hiked an eyebrow at his question, turning around with (Y/N) by his side.

For once, she felt comfortable in his presence. She remembered what their relationship was like before Mack, before Murphy seemed to keep trying to escape from his hell at every little turn.

"I don't know how I'm suppose to change out of this shit before the group finds us."(Y/N) made conversation as if they were walking out of a usual museum, never looking back at the artifacts that told the past.

She flared the bottom of the dress on the side to express her distaste, not liking the risk she was taking outside the doors. She didn't know what was worse, if 10K saw the ugly dress on her or if a Z caught her lacking in this attire.

Murphy looked down at his temporary companion, about to give her a feminine compliment when a quiet gun went off. As (Y/N) went to turn around, a gasp of pain flew from her mouth when she felt the spiked pin of a sharp needle piercing the back of her calf.

Their eyes met as another two rounds sounded off, making their expressions match the other—surprised. The Z never told Murphy that he was free, but that was more than likely due to the fact, Dean struck him with a tranquilizer that shut off his conscious.