No Way Out ➵ John Murphy

18 //

EIGHTEEN.
❝ i'm selfish, i know—
i told you, but you never listen ❞
[ MURPHY'S POV ]

He met Bellamy and Octavia in the dimly lit passageway. He was surprised to see him there but when he uttered the words 'Clarke's in trouble,' Murphy knew why they were in Polis.

"We need your guys' help," Bellamy pleaded with the threesome: Pike, Indra, and him. "We've gotta get into that throne room, we've gotta save Clarke—we've gotta save everybody."

Bellamy seemed astonished by how fast Murphy agreed to help, Murphy himself knew it was out of character, but he, for once, also had people he cared about in trouble.

Now the five of them slunk through the tight hallways, trying to bring as little attention to them as possible. They needed to reach the elevator, the only way up.

He and Bellamy piled into the elevator shaft, leaving Octavia, Indra, and Pike to guard the large gear that controlled it's movements. The elevator moved slowly, powered only by the grit of their three companions. Murphy stood up straight, tapping his fingers anxiously against his pants, and never glancing at the other boy beside him.

He could feel Bellamy's eyes scan over him. "Why are you here, Murphy?"

He paused for moment, unwilling to admit any vulnerability. "You're not the only one who wants to save someone you care about."

Bellamy lifted a brow, slightly amused. "Layla?"

"No," he denied quickly. Yes. "Emori. She's my... girlfriend."

Was she? Murphy didn't really know. But he hated thinking Bellamy knew anything about him that he hadn't accepted himself.

The doors opened suddenly, guards on the other side, rowdily trying to make their way inside. Murphy reached for the taser at his side while Bellamy attempted to beat them skin-to-skin. In a moment of distraction, one of them managed to wrangle their arms around his neck, sucking the air from his lungs. Murphy squirmed in the violent embrace, for a moment it felt like he was being hung all over again, but he managed to catch his breath long enough to say "Bellamy, shoot."

Without hesitation, Bellamy shot the guard. Murphy was released and the guard's brains ended up splattered on the elevator walls. The shaft started to move upward once again and the two boys managed to shove the rest of the intruders away and shut the door.

For a brief moment, Murphy relaxed, leaning up against the wall and rubbing his neck where the guard's hands had just been. The skin was tender, no doubt discoloured, half-way to bruising. Obviously the time for relaxation did not last. The elevator reached the highest floor and the doors opened. In front of them was the much larger doors that led to the throne room.

Bellamy pushed open the doors and they were greeted with Jaha bashing in Ontari's head. Bellamy shot instantaneously but it was in vain, Ontari had already hit the floor. Murphy inspected his surroundings—the room was filled with people, though most were now unconscious. Abby laid at Clarke's feet, Ontari was sprawled on the floor, and even Jaha had been knocked unconscious by Bellamy's shot. Layla sat on the step just below the throne, her eyes blank and expressionless, as if she wasn't really there. Yet, she was everywhere—no doubt ALIE's doing. He had shown weakness and now that was being exploited.

"Is she breathing?" Bellamy quietly asked Clarke, who was now kneeling next to her mother.

Clarke nodded, trying to mask her emotions. "Yes, she's breathing. What about Ontari?"

Murphy glanced down at the girl that was at his feet, her charcoal blood seeping from her skull and onto the bottoms of his shoes. Her chest was rising and falling.