Taming Chaos // J.M // The 100

Chapter 75

What better way to make one of them take the chip.

Anger and fear flood through him like they haven't since before the bunker. He couldn't lose the one reason he had survived this long, as much as he was reluctant to admit it.

Ethan tears his eyes from Jaha, "Murphy-"

He isn't there, the crash of the doors echoing behind him. Profanities tear through Ethan's burning throat, boots squeaking against the tiling when he takes off to follow.

"Let them go," ALIE says to Jaha, just before he twists the handle and drives his shoulder into the door. "They'll come around."

"Murphy!"

He chokes on a breath when he makes it outside.

Ethan was sure he'd stepped out of the dropship all over again, staring open-mouthed at the scenery. But he can't stay in awe for long, the figure ahead of him merging with the shadows. "Murphy!"

Murphy's ignoring him, and it takes a lot of self-control not to turn around at Ethan's distress.

"Fucking hell-" It's been months since they last had the freedom of open land, and now that Ethan's finally gotten the chance, it's restricted by the shit he did to his ankle.

Sixty-eight god-forsaken days holed up in one room or another.

It was time to go home.

Hot pressure pricks behind his eyes because he's out. He's finally out.

He's about to see his people again. Find out what happened to those at Mount Weather. A lot might have changed in four months and it sits heavy in his chest. He's missed a lot, and he's never going to recover from that.

Ethan just wants to go home. But first, he needs to sort this out.

He needs Murphy.

When he finally pushes through the trees to the beach, it's to see Murphy already leaning against the boat they'd arrived in. Facing the other way and completely ignoring him. Slowing to a stumble, Ethan narrows his eyes.

His ankle twinges down the incline, a stab of pain up his calf, and he ends up rolling to a stop like a starfish in the sand.

Exhaling sharply, Ethan groans, "I'm good."

Murphy rolls his eyes.

Spitting sand from his mouth, Ethan kneads at his leg and glares across at him. He sees the same boy too scared to be loved. He sees the sheet he'd hung through the roof. And understands why Murphy can only think the worse.

He pushes back the lump in his throat and stands, exhaling slowly. It's getting dark out, more appealing to his recently sensitive eyes.

"Stay away from me," Murphy demands, catching the movement from the corner of his eye. It feels wrong in his mouth, sending ice through his limbs.

Ethan huffs, "I just wanna talk."

"Go talk to Jaha."

"Jaha-" Ethan releases a heavy breath, pinching at the bridge of his nose until it hurt, "-is the reason you hate me right now."

He steps over boat wreckage to get closer and gestures sharply towards Murphy. "You're the one he personally wanted to come here, so why in the hell would he offer me something and not you? Get a grip, Murph, it doesn't make any fucking sense."

A horn blows in the distance.

They share a pointed glance. Despite the distance, talking through a look is a feat they manage to accomplish even now. All that time in the bunker learning each other's tics and subtle changes in expression.