john murphy, WITCH

22 | Careful What You Wish For

Murphy didn't accept Winnie's apology, didn't forgive her for letting Bellamy get away. There was only one thing that was good, they were together and the drugs finally had worn off but the ripple effects of them would last a hell of a lot longer.

She didn't tell him about the arrows and then missing her. She would eventually, it wasn't like she was keeping a secret. Just at the right time.

"Where did you go?" Winnie asked him.

"You want the truth?" Murphy replied.

"I always want the truth."

"I was going to get something to kill Bellamy Blake with. That's your answer and I don't care about your approval or the moral high ground or whatever, he hung me, he hung you. And right now I think he would do it again."

Winnie wanted to have a conversation about this all, about how she felt, "I think we're going to have to agree to disagree."

"That's never solved anything." Murphy commented. He was mad, he was still so mad.

Winnie couldn't argue with the truth, "I can't change your mind then?"

"No. Can I change yours?" Murphy asked.

"No." She repeated.

"There's one thing we can agree on though."

"And what's that?"

"At least it seems to be shitty back at camp, we're not the only ones who got a bad deal."

Winnie smiled sadly and Murphy could tell. Nobody said life on the ground was going to be great and Winnie couldn't believe she had let herself believe it could be, even for one moment.

They didn't speak for a while and they didn't move either. Winnie thought about the others making their way back to camp and then she thought about the arrows and the Grounders. Not once had Winnie even seen a trace of the other inhabitants of this forest. It had always been eerily quiet.

She didn't like this and it paired with that small feeling that someone was constantly just out of her eye line, just beyond the shadows. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.

Murphy's train of thought also ended up with him having a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach but for a completely different reason. He had lost track of the days.

In the Skybox he knew what he was counting for, the days until he had to die. Now it was different. What was he surviving for? To be happy? He guessed, although that only seemed to be able to be achieved in temporary bursts. To have a home? That would be nice, he thought. Somewhere he belonged but it wasn't what drove him forwards. He needed a meaning. Something.

They both tried to speak almost at the same time, Winnie let Murphy go first. She always spoke first anyway.

"Do you like being a witch?" He asked.

The question didn't shock Winnie as much as she thought it would. Acceptance was the key she guessed, she was a witch.

"It has its perks." She told him, not exactly sure what they were.