"John?" He smiled at the sound of the voice seemingly coming from above, he was glad that nobody could see him because he wasn't ready to admit how much the speaker meant to him, "I need to tell you something."
"Yeah?" He replied, he needed to tell her something as well.
He needed to tell her that his day only began when she spoke, that honestly he would now have to think twice about freedom if she was still here. But then again, he wanted freedom more than anything.
"Next week..." His smile vanished, and he stood up from his bed and wiped the corners of his mouth with his fingers. He knew that tone of voice, he knew what it meant, time was running out.
"Don't say it. Don't say it Winnie unless you are going to say some astrological shit like Jupiter is aligning with Mars and that means that according to my horoscope a perfect stranger will come into my life."
"John.." She started and he pictured the faceless girl in her cell, it was like a mirage as her figure wasn't clear but he pictured a hand coming up to touch the wall and he swore he could feel the heat radiating out from the walls.
"Don't 'John' me, it's Murphy remember... Win." He smirked at the pet name that Winnie pretended to hate.
"Calling you Murphy won't change the fact that my birthday is next week. Nothing can change that."
Before John even knew what he was doing he had slammed the wall separating them with his fist, and then he did it again and again. Then he started bleeding and only when he saw the blood smeared against the metal did he stop and let his palm fall down along with his body until he sat on the floor.
Both of them were silent as the weighting of the word settled; there is nothing that can change her birthday and everyone in the Sky Box knows what an eighteenth birthday brings. Murphy became aware of the stinging from his wound and for once in his life, he let himself be defeated.
He let his back sink into the wall and stared at his unmade bed like he did everyday. There was no other stimulus in the room, nothing to take his mind off reality. Even the sight outside the window was the same sight all day, everyday. Jupiter could be aligned with fucking Pluto and he would have no clue but he sees the exact same shade of black as space whenever he closes his eyes.
A few more minutes passed, just so many that it was beginning to become awkward and then Murphy broke the spell, "That's really shit Win. Really shit."
And Winnie laughed, she laughed hard and Murphy heard that so infrequently that it was enough for him to join in. Winnie was going to die and for one moment that was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Murphy had a deep throaty laugh that lead him to end in a coughing fit only making Winnie's what has been surprisingly light and youthful laugh turn into almost snorts.
"Yeah," Winnie tried to say but she had a backing track of deep laughs, "My horoscope said it would be a rough month."
Murphy suddenly found it was hard to breathe and he had to hold his chest as his coughs mixed again with his laughter, "You - need to," He paused to catch his breath, "Stop." Because as long as she was laughing so was he and he doesn't think he has ever laughed this hard in his life.
"Not until you do John."
He could picture the figure chuckling and wiping a tear from the corner of her eye and then the fact that he couldn't picture how it would fall down her cheek and pool at the bottom of her chin. The only person crying he could imagine is his mother and suddenly he found that he didn't feel like laughing anymore. As quickly as the laughing fit had begun did it die down and the pair both realised how crazy they were acting.
"We've been in here too long." Winnie finished after a couple of seconds of silence. Murphy wondered is she stared around her cell like he did and he brought his knees up to his chest to rest his elbow on.
"But that doesn't mean you should be in a rush to get out."
"Trust me, I'm not. To think, I'll never be able to say that thanks to the idiot in the cell next door in person."
Murphy shook his head and chuckled. Murphy liked a challenge but one that he actually stood a chance of winning, he had challenged himself to find a memory of Winnie. He knew he must have one, one glimpse or one second glance. He just needed to think hard enough but the more he thinks, the more he realises the last two years seemed to have passed him in a blur. She was an enigma, one he had no hope of cracking.
"Well, you'll just have to trust me when I say I have been told I'm very handsome."
He often wondered if he would be attracted to Winnie if he knew what she looked like. The first couple of days that was at the forefront of his mind but then slowly - as he began to love the passion behind her voice when she talked about what she loved and when he felt a lump form in his throat whenever he heard her voice fall - he was beginning to realise it wouldn't matter.
But he was only human, and he prayed that she at least had a pretty smile, among other things that he knew he shouldn't be thinking about alone in a cell with thin walls.
"Your grandmother sure does sounds lovely John."
"You're hilarious," He ruffles his hair, it was getting too long at the front and he hated it, "And why do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Call me John. You do it like, a lot."
"It's your name isn't it?"
"Yeah but," He couldn't quite find the words, "Nobody calls me that, it's Murphy."
"And when was the last time you actually talked to somebody besides me?"
"I actually had a very stimulating conversation with a Guard the other day."
"Oh pray tell."
He knew the tone, the joking side, the 'keep me in this dream away from reality' voice. It didn't come around often, once in a blue moon, at first he hated it. Murphy liked to think he's tough, that he was above things like this and at first he thought Winnie would have shared that sentiment; but sometimes you just got to be kids. Sometimes the pair of them just had to live the childhood they both lost.
"Oh no, you know what they say, what is said in Cell 409 stays in Cell 409."
"Fuck off." And he hears a bang against the wall, right where his back is and it takes him back for a moment.
"Never," It comes out too serious. Because he means it. Winnie is all he has got now, her and her bloody horoscopes have become his life, "And you're not going to die on me, Winnie Scarfone. You're not."
"I'm not planning on it. Trust me, plus the after life would be shit without you. It would be so..." Murphy found he was hanging on for the rest of the sentence, waiting in anticipation, "Normal."
"Normal? I thought normal was your middle name Win."
"Nah sorry actually it's "Fuck off'."
"Your father sure does sounds lovely."
"Fuck off, John Murphy," And in that moment, Murphy couldn't believe that somebody actually liked him, "And it's actually Noa. If you really wanted to know."
Winnie Noa Scarfone, the mystery in Cell 410. His friend. Murphy liked that a lot more than he would ever care to admit.
A/N AHHHH NEW FANFIC FOR THE BEAUTY THAT IS JONATHAN MURPHY. I HEREBY PUBLISH THIS ON THE 27TH OF JUNE.
(P.S - update Nov 2018, I think I wrote that back in 2014 and I'm actually crying, wow Winnie can be classed along with the ogs now )