notion • john murphy

YEAR THREE.

[ ON THE RING ]

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YEAR THREE.

"Murph."

Sayah was pulling at his arm gently now, voice soft. John Murphy laid still on the cold metal floor in the corridor, eyes closed and body quivering slightly. Sayah gently cupped his face, caressing his cheek with her thumb. She frowned, "You gotta get up, okay, you can't. . . you can't sleep here. You're shaking."

Murphy let out a sigh, placing his hand over hers. "I don't want to move, Sayah. Just leave me."

Sayah shook her head. "Come on, Murph, you can come rest in my bed." Silence. Sayah bit her lip. "Don't make me grab Bellamy."

Murphy had been doing this for a while. After Sayah had slowly gotten better, more lively, more happy, she had been getting into work—helping Monty in the kitchen, helping him perfect his algae recipes. As she was getting better however, it wasn't long until Murphy went down too. Avoiding the late window talks, avoiding everyone, avoiding doing work, then more vital things: avoiding eating and starting to sleep in places like the cold metal hallways. He was doing it to himself. Torturing himself.

But Murphy didn't leave her when she was struggling, so she wouldn't leave him.

"Grab Bellamy," Murphy turned away from her, "I don't care."

"You can rest, okay, just not here." Sayah brushed some hair away from his face. "Come on, pass me your hand." And she grabbed his hand in hers, pulling him into her slightly. He obeyed, eyes now open. "Up we go." She stood up with him, hands interlocked as they walked through the corridor and into Sayah's room.

"Bottom or top bunk?" Sayah hummed.

"Whatever." Murphy replied, voice thick with sleep as he pulled away from her and sunk into the bottom bunk. Sayah watched with a frown as he got comfortable, his face void of emotion and his eyes tired.

"You want to eat anything?" Sayah questioned.

"No."

"You should." Sayah walked towards him, sitting at the edge of her bed beside him. "You need to."

"I need to do a lot of things according to everyone else on this stupid ring, but I don't. And I'm fine." Murphy snapped.

Sayah stared down at him, brows furrowed. "Look at me." Murphy sighed, opening his eyes to look back up at her. She glanced down for a moment, taking his hand in hers again and then looking back at him. She loved his eyes. "You're not fine, Murph." He stayed silent, only staring back at her with dull eyes. She squeezed his hand once, "Don't. . . don't shut me out."

   "What, like you did to me?" Murphy murmured, before swallowing thickly. Sayah's lips parted, and after a moment of silence, Murphy sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

   "It's fine," She smiled weakly. He was right. She had shut him out when she needed him the most, but she wouldn't let him do the same.

   Murphy glanced away, jaw tightening. Sayah waited for him to speak, but he said nothing. She inhaled sharply, "I have to go help Monty in the kitchen again, but you can stay here as long as you want."