The 100 Fandom Secret Santa

Murphy comes back from work one day to the hallway next to his door swamped with boxes labeled with careful black chicken scratch handwriting. A very tall and handsome man stumbles out of the room, clad in ripped jeans and a long-sleeve black sweater and looking very annoyed at the box he’d stumbled over.

Murphy is still, staring blankly at the man as his hand had frozen in place trying to fit the key into the lock of his apartment door. The man looks up and gives him a crooked smile and a small wave. “Hi, we’re neighbors, right?” he asks, and Murphy shrugs.

“I guess we are.”

The man makes his way through the maze of boxes over to where Murphy is, shaking his hand. “I’m Bellamy. Bellamy Blake,” he says, and Murphy nods, craning his neck to meet Bellamy’s eyes and gulping at how brown they are.

“I’m Murphy. John Murphy. But everyone just calls me Murphy,” he stammers, and Bellamy lets go of his hand. “Nice to meet you, Murphy,” he says, and Murphy grunts as he goes inside his apartment, shutting the door.

His back meets the door as he wipes a hand over his face, throwing the keys into the jar next to the door and making his way to the kitchen, pouring himself a small glass of orange juice.

Bellamy seemed cool. That, and he was hot as hell.

Murphy groans again, placing his drink down and running his hands through his hair.

“I’m so fucked,” he mutters.

…

The first incident is “All I Want For Christmas Is You”.

Murphy wakes up at seven, getting ready for work as he nurses a coffee, and gets scared out of his skin and leaps five feet in the air as he hears what can only be Bellamy’s loud, low voice belting out the lyrics to the legendary Mariah Carey Christmas song over the sound of roaring shower water.

Murphy spills some of his coffee on the floor and curses as he bends down, cleaning it up and grimacing to the harshly sung lyrics currently pounding into his head.

“‘Cause I just want you here tonight, holding on to me so tight…”

Murphy mumbles the lyrics under his breath, and stops himself halfway through, mentally punching himself.

“…baby, all I want for Christmas is you!”

“That’s it,” Murphy snarls, slamming the dish towel on the counter and wrenching open his door, rapping loudly on the wood. He is rolling out thousands of insults to shoot at Bellamy, but they all die in the back of his throat as the man opens the door in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping down his neck from his damp hair.

Murphy’s mouth goes stark dry.

“I…” he trails off, his eyes raking across Bellamy’s toned chest, rock hard abs, and his impressive v-lines, and his gaze shoots back up to his face, where one of Bellamy’s eyebrows is raised sky-high as he leans a forearm on the door frame.

“Ijustwantedtoletyouknowthatyoursingingisloud,” Murphy spits out quickly, and whips around to make it back to his room where he can fantasize about those muscles in peace when a hand reaches over and locks onto his shoulder with a tight grip.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it,” Bellamy says teasingly, his voice a solid octave lower that turns Murphy’s legs into jelly. Murphy tries to think not to think about the fact that he was now trapped between Bellamy’s two forearms, his chest and face hovering dangerously close to his own. A drip of water falls onto Murphy’s face, and he sneezes.

“I just wanted to let you know that your singing is loud,” he says slower, his eyes never leaving Bellamy’s lips. The man steps back after a moment of giving Murphy a hard stare directly into his soul, and his pretty lips break into a smile. “I can’t help that I happen to be Christmas as fuck,” he says smoothly, walking back into his apartment.

Murphy takes that chance and darts out of the room, making it into his own and slamming the door. He leans back on the door, catching his breath and trying not to think of ways that Bellamy Blake could ruin him.

Going to work may have to wait a little bit longer.

…

The second incident is “Jingle Bells”, and it’s hot.

Bellamy has invited a bunch of friends over to his flat, including Murphy. He eventually arrives twenty minutes late to an apartment stacked with people, a karaoke game going on, and beer being spilled on every surface possible.

Murphy is wearing his favorite cat Christmas sweater, and it seems as though everyone else got the memo as well, so at least he did something right. Two kids are wearing plain black sweaters with Christmas lights sewn throughout it, effectively attaching them to each other and Murphy is sure was a fire hazard. That, and they look stoned out of their minds.

Murphy avoids them, and eventually gets a beer thrust into his hand.

The gross beer definitely helps, because Murphy eventually joins a group of people in the middle of the foyer in dancing, his veins pulsing with warmth from the drink. He’s had a girl grinding on him for an entire song before someone else warm comes up behind him, the girl effectively vanishing.

Murphy turns around to scold the guy for scaring away the only person he might’ve been able to lay tonight, and his nose collides with a very stacked chest.

Murphy doesn’t even need to look up to see who it is. The tan skin gave it away.

“Hello, Murphy. Glad you could make it.”

Murphy’s knees go so weak he can feel them wobble, and prays that Bellamy couldn’t tell. “Hey, Bell,” he slurs, taking a sip of his beer as he feels a surge of courage. He sees Bellamy’s eyes widen at the nickname, and decides to keep going.

“Man, isn’t that ironic? Bell? And you sing Jingle Bells all the time? Damn, I am good,” Murphy continues, knowing he is going to regret what is coming next as he steps onto his tiptoes and leans into Bellamy’s ear, the man leaning down a little to compensate for the height difference.

“I’d let you jingle my bells.”

And with that, Murphy feels his back pressed up against the wall, Bellamy’s mouth on his neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his white skin. Murphy barely hears Bellamy’s comment as he moans, feeling Bellamy’s hands dance up underneath his sweater.

“That can be arranged.”

…

Yes, Murphy liked Christmas.

I was afraid of dying, and I am not afraid of anything at least I try not to be. When our commander said, “For your treasons, you will suffer death.” I felt my heart drop that day; though my face showed no fear, on the inside I was quivering like a young child. That’s why, when an opportunity of escaping popped up I did just that.

When my guard was paying no attention to me I bashed him over the head with a rock. Afterwards I felt really bad because the guard had been a really close friend of mine, but it was either he or I. I choose myself.

I knew for a fact our commander would not let a traitor go without paying for their crimes so not once have I taken time to rest. I have forgotten how long I’ve been running, almost a day I believe. I was dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted. All I wanted to do was to rest, but unless I wanted to be returned to the Ice Nation and be killed I could not stop. Taking a moment to stop and catch my breath I practically fell against the tree that was next to me. Placing my hands on the trunk of the tree to hold myself up I tried to calm my breathing with deep easy breaths.

The sound of twigs snapping and bushes ruffling caused me to perk up.

Glancing behind me I gasped as an arrow flew past my head. “No, no no no.” Pushing off of the tree I forced my legs to work. I honestly felt like I was floating on thin air my legs were so numb, which also meant I was running very clumsily. Crashing into trees, loosing my footing causing me to tumble to the ground before getting back up.  

My breaths came in short rugged pants, and my eyes were blurred from my tears that streamed down my face freely. I was no longer trying to watch where I was running because I could no longer see where I was going, and no matter how hard I tried I knew losing them would be impossible. They were experts in tracking and they never gave up unless they were dead.

Reaching a hand up and wiping the tears from my eyes I flinched slightly as a branch smacked me across the face, distracting me. My foot got caught on the root of a tree twisting it in the wrong way. A scream of pain slipped out of me as I felt my ankle shift out of place. Everything within the next few seconds seemed to happen within a few seconds. It felt like I was flying for a split second and then I smashed into the ground. A groan broke through the silence as my back collided with a large rock. Falling down the hill I could feel every sharp rock, every thorn and branch.

I knew the damage to my body would be more than external as I could feel my ribs cracking, and bones in my body popping out of place. After I hit my head though, all the pain that had overwhelmed me washed away. My vision had gone black despite the fact it was broad daylight out, I couldn’t hear anything except for a ringing in my ears.

Just when I felt like I was never going to stop rolling, I collapsed on top of a very hard surface on my back. My body was sprawled out very uncomfortably; my left leg was bent in a direction my leg should not go, one of my arms was tucked up under me causing my back to arch, my neck was craned as my head dangled resting on the steep side of the rock, my broken arm was resting at my side while from my elbow down was sprawled out to the right. With the positions my body was twisted in I was glad I was numb to all my sense and could not feel pain.

After a while my ears stopped ringing and I could finally hear the world around me again. Of course it was just the screeching of birds and the wind rustling the leaves. Though, eventually I did hear footsteps approaching me. Slowly, as it was clear they were trying not to tumble down the hill like I did. To tell the truth, I had no clue how I was not knocked out by now. I still couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t move my body in anyway, and my breaths were short gasps. As the footsteps approached I tried to turn my head, I tried to blink the darkness away, I wanted to cry out but I could do none of these things.

“Is she dead?” a rough voice spoke, a voice I knew but could not put a face to.

Probably because I couldn’t think clearly and there were gaps in my memory.

“Not yet, with the damage she took it is quite clear that she will not last long. Not in the shape she is in.” Dallas!! The sound of his voice made me strive to get his attention. I still had no control over my body so I lay helplessly.

I couldn’t tell what was going on, no one was saying anything anymore.

“Dallas, what are you doing?” The same rough voice from before spoke breaking the silence.

“She is suffering, I am going to put her out of her misery.” For a second my

heart began to race pumping blood through my body, which meant I could feel all the pain all over again. It faded as fast it came though, so I did not have to suffer long.

“No, if the commander were here she would say let her suffer. She deserves it, now get up and let’s go. We have to report this back to the commander,” his voice made me sick to my stomach because of the fact his voice was so dead. After he spoke I could hear the fleeting steps of the guards who had been hunting me down.

A deep sigh next to me caught my attention, “I’m sorry Hannah…. I hope you do not have to suffer long.” While he was speaking I could feel myself fading into darkness. The last thing I remembered was feeling him place a gentle kiss to my forehead. That moment was when everything went black.

~*~

I could not feel anything, I could not hear anything, and I could not see anything but I could smell the sweet aroma of logs burning. A smell I have loved since I was a child. Which made me think maybe, just maybe I was dead. In a world now where I could be happy and enjoy all things I love. The only issue with that is, if I were dead and in another world I would be able to feel, and hear and see. Right?

After a while though all senses in my body began to flood back. My first sense to come back was my ability to hear. I was welcomed with a loud ringing in my ears that slowly drowned to welcome the crackling of a burning fire. My next sense was the ability to feel. I was able to wiggle my fingers, even if it was painful and only my left fingers. Finally my ability to see came back. At first all I seen was a blinding white light, so I blinked repeatedly. Slowly the white light faded into stars, which then faded into darkness. Darkness that was solely lit by the burning fire that was sat a few feet from me.

I tried to sit up but in doing so pain shot through my body causing me to cry out in pain.

“Don’t move. Moving will cause you excruciating pain.” an orotund voice spoke catching my attention. I turned my head, craning my neck just to look at him.  

It hurt to turn my head but I wanted to look at him, I wanted to see his face. I couldn’t turn my head far enough to look at him though and yet again pain coursed through my body.

“Hey, I said not to move,” as he spoke he walked over to where I was lying.

“I-I” I croaked trying to speak which was a mistake because it sent me into a coughing fit. In-between coughs groans slipped out, the young man was quick to get to my side. He placed a hand on the back of my head, lifting it ever so slightly before placing what was supposed to be a makeshift cup to my lips.

“Drink this, you might not be able to talk for a while but your throat will not

be as sore.” As he tilted the cup forward enough that water drizzled into my mouth I studied him. He had deep brown hair that hung grazing the tops of his ears. From what I could tell he had blue eyes, much like mine, but a deep-sea blue. His skin was a relatively normal color, but was a bit more on the tan side. Since he was kneeled down next to me I could not tell what the build of his body was like, but from what I could see he was fairly well built and a bit on the slim side.

When my eyes finally wandered back to his he was already looking at me.

When he lowered the cup thinking I had had enough water for the moment, he set it down on the ground next to him. He sat staring at my face intently for what felt like an hour, but in reality was only three minutes. Which was when he decided to get up and walk over to wherever he had been before I had waken up. “When I found you, you were covered in blood. I honestly thought you were dead already when I had found you, as you weren’t breathing, at least it looked like you weren’t. Then you started coughing, and groaning,” he seemed to pause as he was speaking. Thinking through his thoughts, deciding what would be safe to say and what wouldn’t.

I managed to turn my head enough to see him. He was sat resting against a tree a good distance from the fire, staring down at his feet. When he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Never mind, you probably have no clue what I am saying to you.”

“I may not-“ trying to speak again had caused me to cough slightly but I had gotten it under control after a few seconds, “may not be exactly like you, but I understand the words you speak. How, I do not know. I just do.” That was all I had to energy to say, it hurt too much to try and say anything else. Opening my eyes I looked over to the man sat against the tree. He looked at me in a curious manner; his eyes were clouded over with an emotion unknown to me.

After a moment the corners of his lips turned up into a smirk and he shook his head brushing his hand through his hair. “Do you remember anything?” he questioned the smirk fading from his face.

I tried to chew on my bottom lip for a moment, but hurt too much so I lay there thinking. Trying to remember anything I could, but I remembered nothing. No matter how hard I tried to think of something I came up blank. “N-no.” my voice was rough and shaky. He probably had a hard time understanding me so I shook my head in reply. When I looked over to him his face was expressionless, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

I studied the way his jaw would clench and unclench as he was thinking, and the he would automatically brushing a stray strand of hair back out of his face. How his deep brown eyes stared off into the distance emotions flooding into his eyes before fading away.

“Anyway; I’m not a doctor or anything but I can tell when bones are broken, and when injuries are to great to be fixed by one man who has no healing skills,” he chewed on his bottom lip slightly before standing up and walking over to me, “your ribs they aren’t broken, at least not from what I can tell. Though there is something wrong in the area of your body. Your arm- is broken quite clearly. That’s it for broken bones, but you probably have a ton of fractured bones and there is nothing I can do about that. Lucky for you I know some people who could fix you right up.” As he walked over to where I was he grabbed the cup of water and lowered down into a crouch next to me.

He lifted my head off of whatever it had been resting on and placed the cup to my lips, slowly allowing me to drink the water. When he sat the cup down and lowered my head back down my gaze wandered to the sky. Studying the stars that shun above us, glowing and dancing in the night sky. “My name…. My name is Hannah.” I muttered having no clue how I knew that.

He looked at me, almost startled for a second before a smile rested on his face. “Well Hannah, you should rest. It will help your body to heal.” He spoke his tone gentle.

He stood up and turned about to walk away when I reached out and grabbed his arm, “Your name. What’s your name?” I was truly curious and I had no clue why.

Maybe it was because this man had saved my life.

“Murphy. My name is John Murphy.”

-4-

At four years old, Raven didn’t even know anything was different about the day until she saw Finn.  He was wearing a new sweater, and it was bright red. Raven, having only two outfits herself, had an understanding of how many credits new clothes could cost, and was shocked.

“Where’d you get that?”

“My mommy and daddy gave it to me for Cwistmas!”

“Oh! Well, Mehwy Cwistmas!”

-6-

By six years old, Raven knew that most people celebrated some sort of holiday on the Arc, but that she didn’t.  She was kind of upset by this, as she heard about all the cool things the other kids in Kindergarten got, but mostly she didn’t care.

Finn also knew that she didn’t celebrate any holidays, but he didn’t understand why.  When he asked her why not, she just told him that her mommy didn’t, so she didn’t either.

“Do you want to?  Celebrate Christmas?”  Raven shrugged.

“I don’t know.  I like the presents,” she added with a toothy grin.

On Christmas Day, Finn knocked on the door to her living quarters. When she opened the door (her mother was still passed out in her small bed), he presented her with a wrench, a couple of nuts and bolts, and a screwdriver.

“My daddy said I could give this to you for a present.  Merry Christmas, Raven.”  Raven grinned and jumped to hug her friend.

“Merry Christmas, Finn.”

-8-

The next year, Finn gave her a similar gift.  Raven found that she liked playing with  the wrench and screwdriver, going around the house and playing mechanic, pretending to fix the lights or the door.

This time, Finn gave her a hammer, and tied a bow around it with a silver ribbon.  Raven smiled, hugged him, and said thank you, but couldn’t help the guilt that set in when she realized she couldn’t give him anything.

“Merry Christmas.”

-10-

On her tenth Christmas, Raven didn’t see Finn.  Her mother came home in the morning, slurring and angry.  Raven had never seen her like that before, and she didn’t know what was wrong with her, so when she heard a knock on the door, all she could do was yell “Sorry, nobody can come to the door right now! Merry Christmas!”

The next day in class, Finn gave her a book titled Mechanical Engineering 101.  She didn’t understand the title, or most of the words in the book, but she wanted to learn, and so she gave Finn a hug as usual and thanked him for the gift.

-12-

At twelve years old, Raven considered herself accustomed to her Christmas schedule.  She would make sure her mother was lying on her side in bed on Christmas Eve, she would take her bottle of moonshine and put it on the counter, and she would put herself to bed.

In the morning, she would let her mom sleep, eat what little she could that her mom wouldn’t notice went missing, she would let Finn in when he knocked, not having to check who it was, and she would try not to feel too guilty accepting another gift when she couldn’t give him anything in return.

-14-

When she was fourteen, Raven made her first attempt to give something back to Finn. She saved up some rations, and followed her mom down to the market, making sure to stay out of her sight.  She walked up to a booth, and was greeted by a surprised looking woman with curly hair and dark skin.

“Well, who might you be?”  Raven knew better to tell her full name at the market, but she didn’t want to ruin her chance at getting a gift.

“Raven.  What’s yours?”

“Like a little bird!  I’m Nigel.  Well, little bird, what can I get for you?”

“Metal.  Do you have any steel sheets?”  The woman’s eyebrows shot even further back towards her hairline and she chuckled.

“Yeah, we got some.  How much you want?”

“How much can this get me?”  Raven put forward half of what she had brought with her.  She didn’t want to waste any more than she needed to, but she wanted to get him a good gift.  Nigel brought forward four metal sheets a square foot large.  Raven nodded and slid over the rations, grabbing the steel.

The next day, Raven went over to Finn’s quarters before he could come over to hers.  His mother answered the door and seemed surprised to see her.

“Raven, Merry Christmas!  How lovely to see you, Finn was just about to head next door to give you your gift!  Finn, sweetie, Raven is here!”  Raven stepped into the familiar room and hid her present behind her back as she saw her friend enter the room.

“Hey, Merry Christmas Ray!  I have something for you,” Finn said, holding his hands behind his back.  Raven stepped forward, and brought her hands around front.

“I have something too,” she declared with an attempt at nonchalance, but she couldn’t hide how proud she was to have something to give him in return.  As he took the sheets, she continued.  “They’re steel.  I figured you could use something permanent to make those designs you’ve been making out of paper.”

Earlier that year, Finn had found an old book on something called Origami, which told him how to make designs out of folding paper.  Raven thought that he was really good at it, and she wanted to give him something he could keep them with.

Finn leaned in to hug her.  “It’s perfect, thank you.”  Raven grinned, and her smile only brightened when she saw what he had for her.

“Are these wires?  And clamps? How did you get these?”

“They’re to go with the pipes, screws, and other things I’ve given you.  You’re talented Raven, and I know you’re going to make something incredible.  I found them at the market, they only cost a couple of credits.”  At this, Raven felt a stutter in her heart as she remembered he, unlike herself, could afford to buy a gift at the legal market in the Arc, but she straightened back up, thinking to herself, at least I have a gift for him this year.  

“Thank you Finn, it’s perfect.  Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

-16-

Raven’s mother had started drinking more heavily.  She found her daughter’s stash of rations and traded them for moonshine.  Raven found herself going over to Finn’s more and more often, asking if he could spare any food for her.  Raven barely had enough rations to feed herself, so she couldn’t trade any for gifts like she had done the past two years.  Instead, she would have to figure something else out.

She was walking down the hall one day when she saw a plant hanging from the ceiling pipes.  Interested, she stepped closer and noticed that the plant was not real, but she didn’t have any time to examine it further before a boy looking to be about her age approached her.

He was scrawny, and wore goggles on his head.  Raven opened her mouth to ask him who he was when he spoke.

“Do you know what this is?”  She shook her head, and he grinned, leaning in further.  “It’s mistletoe.  Well, it’s fake mistletoe, but it’s mistletoe all the same.  Do you know what mistletoe does?”  When she shook her head again, he continued.  “You have to kiss whoever you’re under it with.”  At this, her jaw dropped open.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said hesitantly.

“Jasper.  Jasper Jordan.  What’s yours?”

“Raven.”  With that, she leaned forward and quickly pecked his cheek.  Jasper was too stunned to react, and he didn’t seem to notice that when she leaned back, she took the plant with her.  Waving over her shoulder, she walked back to her quarters.

The next day, Raven hung that same mistletoe over her doorway and waited for Finn to knock.  When he did, she smiled and thanked him for his gift, another mechanical engineering book, as she had basically memorized her first one already.  She took a deep breath.

“I have a gift for you too.”

“Oh yeah?  What is it?”  Raven pointed up, and her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to realize what it was.

“Is that-” his words were cut off as she leaned up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his.  His hands came up to cup her face and she relaxed into him.

“Merry Christmas, Finn,” she mumbled into his shoulder, butterflies in her stomach.  He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Merry Christmas, Raven.”

-17-

When she was seventeen, Raven didn’t even realize that it was Christmas until Finn knocked on her door.  It was her door now- her mother had passed away earlier that year, while she was at school studying to be a mechanic.  Once she turned eighteen in another two months, she would test to become a Zero-G Mechanic, and she found herself wrapped up in her studies.  She opened the door and greeted him, but then did a double take when she noticed the cloth pouch in his hand.

“Finn, what is that?”

“It’s a gift.  You’ll have to open it to see what it is.”

“What day is it?”

“It’s Christmas.”  Raven’s shoulders sagged.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I just- I didn’t even notice what time of the year it was, and I don’t have anything for you.  I can go and-” Finn cut her off with a kiss.

“You don’t have to get me anything.  If it makes you feel better, you can think of this as a good luck gift for your test.  That way you don’t feel guilty, and I won’t feel like I have to get you something then.  It’s a win-win situation.”  Raven laughed at that and accepted the bag.  She opened it to find a metal chain with a metal figure hooked on it.  At a closer glance, she realized it was a necklace, and that the figure was an origami bird–more specifically, a raven.

“Finn… I don’t know what to say.  It’s beautiful.  Thank you.”  Finn smiled as she pulled the necklace over her head, and then pulled him in to give him a hug.

“Merry Christmas, Raven.”

“Merry Christmas, Finn.”

-18-

Raven woke up early on her eighteenth Christmas.  The Arc leaders had decided to allow visitors into the Sky Box on Christmas, and she was going to make the most of the time she had.  She picked up the gift she had gotten him, and headed towards the jail.

When she arrived, she found herself among many parents and friends, trying to visit loved ones who were locked up.  A guard approached her, scanned her ID badge, and asked her who she was there to visit.

“Finn Collins.”  He checked a chart, found Finn’s cell number, and took her to it.

“Hey you, Merry Christmas,” she said softly as she approached the cot he was sitting on.  His cell mate’s parents were there as well, and so she quietly gave him the watch she had restored, kissed him chastely, and sat with him in comfortable silence until his parents arrived.  The cell was getting crowded, and Raven didn’t want to prevent anybody from seeing their children, so she left with the promise that she would be back the next visitor’s day.

-19-

When she was nineteen, Raven had her first Christmas without Finn. Despite all that had happened in the past year with him, with Clarke and the grounder village, she found herself missing him, and nostalgic for the times before her world became so complicated and it was only herself and Finn that she had to worry about.  At the end of the day, the delinquents were partying with a batch of Jasper and Monty’s moonshine, and Raven sat distanced from the group, watching everyone else celebrate but not joining in.  After an hour, Clarke noticed and came over with a cup of moonshine for both of them.

“Hey, you enjoying yourself?”  Raven put on a smile, but she knew that Clarke would see through it.

“Yeah, just watching the party go on.  Merry Christmas,” she added as an afterthought.

“Merry Christmas.”  Clarke bit her lip before taking a breath and continuing.  “It’s him, right?  I know that he helped you get by as a kid, so you must have spent holidays with him pretty closely.”  Raven nodded, and Clarke continued.  “Do you miss him?”  Raven thought for a minute before carefully answering.

“I don’t think I miss him, but I miss the memories I have with him. My mom never did anything for Christmas, so it was always just–him,” Raven decided, still unable to bring herself to say his name.

“You know, you don’t have to miss memories.  They’re always with you, in your head.  But if you stay caught up in the past, you’ll miss the opportunity to make new memories.  You have friends here Raven, and we all care about you.  You don’t have to feel bad for having fun.”  At this, the weight that had been resting on Raven’s shoulders lightened, and she leaned over to Clarke and hugged her.

Hugging Clarke on Christmas was different than hugging Finn.  She was soft where he was hard, and a considerable amount shorter, but the warmth and happiness behind the gesture stayed the same.

“Merry Christmas, Raven.”

Murphy is a prisoner, but he wasn’t always one. There was a time that he was free. It’s hard to imagine it now, but the technicals get twisted in his brain even when he’s spewing it out for the first time since it happened to Raven. He didn’t expect to survive that time, but he did. He didn’t expect Raven to survive that time, but she did. Raven’s dying eyes glared at him and he could taste the rottenness of the words on his tongue. The story goes something like this: He gets the flu. His father steals medicine that turns out wouldn’t help anyway…. Gets floated for it. His dad was the only one who ever really cared for him. He risked his life to get Murphy healthy again and paid the price for it later. Murphy paid the price for it later. His mother, she starts drinking pretty heavily after that. Murphy had to trade in some of his rations to get her alcohol. It wasn’t his choice. He did it after she slapped him with the back of her hand so hard he lost two of his teeth. And the last words she says to him before he finds her in a pool of her own vomit is that he killed his father. The smell of moonshine in her breath when she spits in his face. You killed him, you monster! He was put in jail for nothing except being an unwanted son of a bitch. When Murphy was younger, he read books about life before the bombs hit. Orphanages were places that children went if both of their parents were dead. If they had nobody else in the world to care for them. Murphy guessed that if he lived in that time, way back then, he probably would have lived in one. But instead, he got sent to a cell because he’s so unwanted that the Council just pushed him away. Jaha probably doesn’t even remember his father, or the big gray eyes of the ten year old boy whose dad was only trying to help him. The tears that ran down his feverish cheeks – the fever hadn’t even gone away yet. Jaha couldn’t wait to murder his father. He didn’t even give Murphy the chance to get healthy again. The next year, his mom. And the day after Murphy becomes an orphan… he becomes a prisoner. He tells the other kids in the Skybox that he assaulted a guard. It’s better than telling them that nobody wants him. It brings up a pretty big name for himself, the other kids think that Murphy has guts, when in reality he cries at night for a future that might have been, with two loving parents, if he hadn’t gotten sick. Murphy’s in the Skybox for six years until they get sent to Earth. There are 3,000 people on the Ark. The number may sound big, but it’s really not. There are no new faces. There are people breathing down your neck constantly. You may not know everyone’s name, but you do know nearly everyone’s face. If you don’t recognize them, you may recognize the family resemblance to their mother or father. You may associate them with their best friend who is in your Earth Skills class. That’s the most startling thing about the ground. It’s not the fresh air, the lack of machine hum or the freedom – which doesn’t even last for Murphy – it’s the faces. There are 3,000 people on the Ark. He’s never seen any of them with a tattoo. Or with the light brown eyes of the sand when the sun is setting right above it. Or the soft skin of her hand – which is a new thing in itself but Murphy can feel how she is self conscious of it, how she covers it up. He’s never been a free man, never ever never, whether that means being trapped in a metal box floating in space or an even smaller cell or hated for jack shit when he finally reaches the ground. But her eyes… There’s a snap of a tree branch outside and it snaps Murphy out of his thoughts. He slowly stands up and stares at the door. It’s probably just Jaha. The man is like a cockroach. But something in Murphy’s gut tells him that it’s not. Another branch cracks and this time is followed by a string of curses in a language Murphy doesn’t understand, in the Grounder language. His stomach twists and he pushes himself forward, looking for something, anything that may help him defend himself. The Wastelanders took all of their weapons. The person outside is too quick, and they stumble inside just as Murphy is about to crack a bottle of whiskey over their head. It’s her. “Emori?” he asks. “John,” she says. It startles him. More and more people are calling him by his first name these days, and it reminds him of his father. It will be okay, Johnny. I’ll make sure you get better. “You made it,” her voice is hoarse. Murphy wants to tell her that he was just thinking about her, but he holds his tongue. He takes a step backwards but doesn’t lower the bottle. “Due North,” he says. Emori doesn’t seem to notice that he’s holding the bottle above his head, ready to crack it over her’s if she makes any sudden movements. She pulls off her headscarf. Murphy tries not to notice. It’s the first time he’s seen her whole face and he wants to admire it but he can’t let himself get distracted. “I thought…” he trails off. His arms are starting to get sore. Emori turns her head to look at him and he can feel his cheeks warm. He must look ridiculous. “I thought that nobody has been here for hundreds of years.” “That’s not true,” Emori says. “I was here last month,” she crosses her arms and stares at him. The bottle is suddenly too heavy and Murphy puts it on the table. “There were leaves and sand on the solar panels,” he says. Emori lifts up an eyebrow. “I don’t know what that is, and I don’t know how to use technology. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t food and water and alcohol here. And not to mention, a warm place to sleep.” She pushes past him and grabs at a bag of food and rips it open. “So how do you like it?”