"Holy fuck," Ethan steps back, clasping his hands over his head. It seems unreal standing there, watching Murphy spiral further into a panic attack.
And just for a second, there's an evil flicker of a thought - Murphy's at the mercy of someone else for a change.
As soon as it passes his mind, Ethan jolts, ice seeping through his limbs until it shatters in a hot flush spurring him to move closer. He splays his hands out at Murphy's flinch, palms up and empty.
"Murphy," It feels like there's a hand around his heart, squeezing on each breath, "Murphy, it's me."
Peeking past fingers curling into a loose fist, he can see Murphy's wide eyes. He can see the bloody mess that his face was, can see the darkness hovering around him like an aura, can see the hesitation in his limbs.
This is exactly what Ethan was talking about when he protested against Murphy's banishment. One way or another, it was torture.
"What happened to you?" He whispers, crouching until he was almost level.
Murphy lowers his hand, heaving choked breaths. "Beckett?"
Ethan nods, "Yeah, man. Fuck." He reaches one arm out, letting Murphy move first. The hand that clutches shakily onto his wrist is mattered and abused, flesh replacing where his nails should be, fingers sitting at odd angles. He wants to throw up.
Levering the trembling boy onto his feet, "Murphy. Can you look at me?" Ethan presses, ducking his head.
Murphy has enough strength in his arms to shrug his hands off, which, okay, fair enough. Ethan still winces at the uncontrolled tremble of his legs. There are gashes up and down his arms, reaching across his back, but he does look up through his tangled fringe and glares, shaking miserably.
The torture screams grounder and Ethan has no hope about how the meeting went.
He grabs for his bag, the one stuffed with medical supplies, only to realise he can't feel the safe weight against his back.
"Fucking Bellamy." His hands hover aimlessly.
Ethan licks his lips and tastes blood. He jumps to Murphy's side when he sways and ducks under an arm, apologizing profusely at each pained whimper. "I'm taking you back to camp. Fuck Bellamy, this is his doing anyway. Okay? I'm not gonna let him kick you back out."
"Why?" Murphy's voice is hoarse. Ethan doesn't want to think about what happened to make it that way.
Gently prodding at the boy's side, he lifts a brow. "What do you mean why?" He pulls at Murphy's shirt to catch his attention, "Are you hurt here?"
Murphy nods, a hitch in his rapid breathing. "Ribs."
"Okay, that's fine."
"What are you doing-"
"Up here?" Ethan tugs at the clothing just under his arm.
At the jerky shake of Murphy's head, Ethan nods. He rests his hand there, careful to keep his fingers curled to prevent accidental brushes against open wounds. "Sorry," He says as a warning, hitching his arm higher up across his shoulders for better support.
Murphy's voice cracks with a broken yell, squeezing his eyes shut against the waves of pain screaming through his limbs.
"Sorry! Sorry." Ethan blows out a heavy breath, it seems to be the only word he can think of saying. "I'm sorry, you gotta lean on me, man. I don't have any of Clarke's medical shit here, I gotta fix you up at camp. I can -" He looks at Murphy's pained expression, struggling to stand and finally distributing his weight between them, "Thank you."
Ethan takes a test step and deems it good enough to begin their short journey. "I can sneak you past the gates if you don't want to be seen. . . Truth be told, I don't even know if Bellamy is back yet. Or if he'll let me in. We're in this together then, I guess."
Murphy groans a step up the small incline, jostling his injuries. They can see the gates to the dropship by now, so Ethan chooses to walk alongside the walls, going around instead of straight through for less visibility.
"What happened, Murphy?"
Murphy shakes his head, looking confused, "The grounders." He winces when he steps on a rock that almost twists his ankle. Ethan helps him lean closer, taking more of his weight.
"They tortured you." It comes out as a statement more than a question. The answer was right in front of him. He adjusts their positioning again, "What did they want?"
"Information. The camp, the people. . ." A full-body shiver racks Murphy's body and Ethan holds the questions.
"Wha' happened," Murphy winces, eyes squinted with the next step, "with you?"
Ethan purses his lips, stares straight ahead, "Bellamy."
They both see the campfires radiating orange light onto trees and know they're close. This is when Murphy hesitates. He sees the gates and starts to drag his feet, eyes widening in horror like the first time Ethan saw him cowering behind the tree.
Ethan furiously shushes him, veering off to the side so they could crouch behind the bushes.
A twig snaps and they both tense in fear. When Ethan turns his head to examine the area he sees a flower in the tree, a sign he remembers from Lincoln and Octavia.
Desperately, he whispers "Lincoln?" despite the silence.
Nothing happens, no one comes out. Ethan's legs are trembling when he lifts them both to a stand. He glances once more over his shoulder and sees nothing. They were too paranoid for their own good.
Then, his ankle hits a tripwire. It triggers the rattling of cans.
He hears - even from here - the camp panic, voices rising when they fall into a tree.
"Woah-" Just barely catching himself, Ethan twists so his body takes the impact. With both his hands and Murphy's sudden adrenaline they succeed in sliding down the tree to the dirt instead of landing smack-dab on their faces.
Murphy grunts, clutching a hand at his ribs and arching his back away from the rough bark.
Ethan holds his breath.
He doesn't have enough time to show himself, hide Murphy, or even distract the lookout duty before they spot them. He's relieved to see Octavia first but raises weary hands against the guns in Connor's and Derek's hands.
As soon as Murphy sees the same people who put the rope around his neck, he reverts back to his panic. He's flinching across the dirt to protect himself, scrambling away from the threat.
Something inside Ethan clicks, unfreezing his limbs to scramble onto his feet and block their view.
"Ethan? Thank god." Octavia sounds both surprised and relieved to see him again. She throws an arm out to stop the boys behind her and takes a step around Ethan. She hears his laboured breath cease into nothing and she understands why when she sees who exactly it is cowering from them.
"Murphy?"