John Murphy One Shots

Nightmares

Just a small/cute scenario I thought of! x

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John Murphy and I were always the last two up late at night. We'd sit by the fire, diagonal from one another, and basically avoid eye contact. I didn't really know him, I just knew what everyone said about him. That he was a murderer and relentless and selfish, and more things that I didn't like to think about. I saw some of the chaos he created around himself, but I'd like to think of him as just troubled. People don't just do things for the hell of it, especially if it's something negative. There's always a motive, usually always some sob story. I guarantee Murphy has one, one that I don't necessarily care to hear, but it's there.

He doesn't owe me anything, which some people think he owes them everything and more. It's ridiculous, at least to me. I never say anything, because he can stick up for himself and he's made that quite clear. He's never done anything terrible to me, at least not yet, and so I have no reason to dislike him. Even after hearing rumors about him, I still can't dislike him, because they're just that: rumors. I don't know the true story, don't know the real John Murphy. I'm just as clueless as the next, but I don't allow myself to presume him guilty. The world shouldn't work like that anymore, shouldn't have ever.

Despite us both being rather strong people, at least mentally, I was aware of one thing we struggled with: nightmares. I have them almost every night about, well, everything. The Grounders hurting us, the deaths of our people, my parents being floated; every tragedy in my life has turned into nightly terrors. One night, I woke up from one and decided to walk around to clear my head. That's when I heard Murphy shuffling in his tent, and a few whimpers fall from his lips. Of course I thought he was doing something else, something cringeworthy that would give me worse nightmares than I already had. But when I peeked into his tent, I saw the unbreakable Murphy being tortured by whatever played behind his eyelids. I felt sorry for him, because I understood. I figured he dreamt about his tragedies as well.

So on a typical night, where we were both sat in similar positions from the night before, staring into the fire, I spoke. I had a feeling I'd be the first to spark up our first real conversation. We've had typical chit-chat before but it was more so bickering. He'd spit out some snide remark at me and I'd just give him a soft smile and carry on my way. I think it drove him slightly insane that I never added fuel to his fire, but that wasn't me. I embrace solutions and peace, not trouble.

"I have them too: nightmares," I started. His head picked up and his eyes met mine briefly, before he peered back into the fire.

I toyed with my fingers in my lap, furrowing my eyebrows, "sometimes they're about The Grounders attacking us, losing our people and losing myself. Other times it's up on the ark, my parents being floated and me just watching. So, I get it. We all have our demons and our battles. It's just a matter of if you let people in to help you fight them."

He let out a small sigh, "am I supposed to care?" He questioned with the roll of his eyes.

I rose to my feet, looking at him, "you were supposed to listen, and you did. So thanks for that."

His eyes flickered up to me, but before I could allow myself to decipher the look on his face, I turned my back to him and walked to my tent. I'd like to think that I had some sort of impact on him, even if it was only for a moment or two.

That night, I stayed awake all night to avoid my nightmares. Murphy didn't have any, and he slept rather peacefully. I think if I had fallen asleep too, I wouldn't have had any either.

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Thoughts are always welcomed. Sorry I haven't posted in so long! x