Chapter Text
The usual group was all gathered at Bellamy’s house. It wasn’t in the best condition, the washing machine broke on occasion, one bedroom had horrible wall paper, all the faucets leaked, some of the kitchen tiles had cracks in them but it was what he could afford and he worked hard to keep it presentable.
The man couldn’t help the smile that automatically formed as he looked around the livingroom at the makeshift family they had found. His younger sister, Octavia, was sitting in the lap of her boyfriend, Lincoln, in the armchair by the tv. Miller and Murphy were sitting with their backs pressed against the coffee table while playing Xbox. Emori was kneeling next to Murphy running her hands through his shoulder length shaggy hair in an attempt to distract him. Monty and Jasper were sitting on the couch arguing about which one of them should get to play next.
Honestly, life was the best it had been for the Blakes in quite some time. He should’ve known something was going to happen to blow up all their lives.
When he hears the knock on the door he answered quickly, immediately pulling out his wallet thinking it was the pizza guy. When no one spoke he finally looked up.
A girl a head shorter than him with blonde curls cascading down her back was looking at the ground shifting her weight between her feet. She was wearing a grey hoodie that had definitely seen better days with leggings.
“Hello. I’m- I’m sorry to bother you.” She began hesitantly, quickly glancing up before dropping her gaze again. It still allowed him to notice the bruises that littered her face and neck as well as the most piercing blue eyes he’d ever seen.
“Can I help you?” He asked more firmly than he intended. Bellamy couldn’t help the knee jerk reaction to thinking she had brought danger to the people he cared about most.
Her hands twisted together nervously at his tone. “Is John Murphy here?”
His surprise is obvious. Because no one knows Murphy. Yes, he spends all of his spare time at Bellamy’s house but he’s by far the most aloof of the group. He’s the sarcastic bastard who cares in his own weird way. John has no other friends outside of those currently in his house and maybe his co-workers at the auto shop depending on the day. But they only know the bare basics of his life before meeting him at Lincoln's gym two years ago.
The man couldn’t help the nerves that tightened in stomach as he became aware of the silence from the livingroom. Knowing everyone was listening he raised his voice a bit. “Whose asking?”
Yet he never got a response. Her eyes locked on something over his shoulder and when he looked he found Murphy standing speechless right behind him. His friend appeared as if he had been punched in the gut.
Tears immediately glistened in her bright blue eyes, her arms wrapping tightly around her stomach, her shoulders hunching to make her smaller than she already was. Bellamy hardly heard the broken apology that spilled from her lips as she released a choked sob.
Murphy quickly snapped into action at the sound, pulling the blonde into the house and sinking to the floor with her in his arms.
The man’s legs spread as she sat between them and wrapped her arms around his waist while burying her head into the crook of his neck. His left arm curled around her back while the right disappeared in her hair holding her to him. His eyes were wide and unseeing as his body shook with the weight of her despair.
Murphy hardly noticed that everyone in the room had stood to watch him, unsure how to proceed. Emori’s mouth had dropped open wide as she looked on in disbelief.
Too many minutes had passed and people were staring to fidget with their uncertainty. The girl appeared to be no longer crying, instead sleeping against Murphy’s chest. The man had yet to loosen his hold, even rocking slightly as he held her.
Bellamy had to do something. He’s not engrained to just stand still when something was so obviously wrong. Carefully, as if approaching a scared animal, he crouched to rest a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Murphy?”
The motion seemed to snap his friend out of his daze. John pulled back from the blonde carefully and truly took in her appearance for the first time.
“Fuck.” He put his arm under her legs to pick her up and placed her on the couch. It was only then he noticed the fresh blood stain on her sweatshirt. Murphy ran a hand over his face before lifting it to check for wounds.
Internally John’s mind was whirling a mile a minute with all his questions and thoughts. He hadn’t seen or heard from Clarke in over 5 years. Yet, she had somehow known exactly where to find him. She was also injured. Too injured for it to be any sort of accident. He was more familiar with this scenario than he ever wanted to admit but also woefully out of practice.
He had to take three deep breaths before being able to unclench his fists at the bruises and gash he saw on her abdomen. The shaggy haired brunette almost felt as if he had been transported back in time.
“John?” Emori questioned, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
“Is she okay man? Should we bring her to the hospital?” Miller asked nervously looking at the unconscious girl. He was a rookie officer and it was taking a lot to not call this in immediately.
A despondent voice Murphy hadn’t used in many years responded, “She didn’t go to the hospital for a reason.” Rolling his head to ease the tension in his neck he ordered, “I need alcohol, towels, thread and a needle.”
The horrified looks he received were almost humorous. He loved this odd make-shift family. Truly. But if they knew the horrors he faced for the first half of his life, he’s not sure he’d be able to look them in the eye again. It doesn’t matter that he never asked for it, his two worlds are colliding.
“You can’t be serious.” Octavia answered.
“Deadly.”
They must've seen something in his expression because her and Lincoln quickly left to gather the materials he requested.
“No.” Monty cut in. “No. Absolutely not. We can bring her to the hospital. Someone qualified can do her stitches if she needs them.” The man was gathering his belongings and holding his keys as if the plan was already decided.
Murphy looked down at the girl who was the only family he knew. Her absence had been felt every day but he wouldn’t allow it to stop him from living his life. He grieved the part of her that lived in him for over a year before he decided to make something of himself, like she always knew he could.
“She can’t go to the hospital Monty.”
“Why not?” His small friend asked angrily.
“I don’t know. But if it was safe she would’ve gone.”
“Then let me call Harper.”
If John was willing to wait for her to the make the drive over, he would’ve. She had started working at the local hospital as a nurse a few months prior. But right now all his mind could focus on was that Clarke was hurt and he didn’t want to prolong her pain.
He turned to meet the gaze of everyone in the room as Lincoln and Octavia put all the supplies on the arm of the couch, by Clarke’s head. His friends were all understandably confused but he couldn’t focus on them right now. “I promise I’ll explain everything later but if you can’t handle this you should leave. Now.”
Miller, Bellamy and Emori all opened their mouth to protest what was obviously going to follow when he continued. “I’ve done this before and she’s had it done to her before.” That caused more than a few brows to raise. “It’ll be okay. But seriously - if you’re going to lose your shit, leave now.”
To his immense surprise, no one did. Nodding absently to himself he took a heavy swig of the whiskey before lifting her - or technically his - hoodie to reveal the damage. The blood has mostly slowed down, but the four inch gash running parallel under her rib cage on the right side is deep enough to need stitches but also shallow enough to not be too concerning. There were smears around the area as if she had a compress on it for a while. She must’ve been in a rush to leave somewhere to not have handled it already.
Without much fanfare he poured a hefty dose of alcohol over the wound. A fair amount rolling off of her and onto the couch. He heard Bellamy huff disapprovingly but it hardly mattered as Clarke came to with a pained grunt.
“Hello to you too, asshole.”
“It’s not very nice to call your doctor names, Princess.”
Murphy vaguely heard Emori’s sharp gasp of recognition. He didn’t turn to look at her though.
He threaded the needle and Clarke responded, “You sure you remember how to play doctor? I don’t want to have to redo your shitty work later.”
“As if there’s anyone better than me.” He playfully scoffed before taking on a more serious expression, “Now do you want something to bite, you want one of these ugly guys to help hold you down or you in the mood to show these folks how badass you are?”
The blonde finally looked around the room and noticed everyone watching her. She pushed herself deeper into the cushions trying to disappear. “Just do it.”
Clarke closed her eyes and fisted the couch cushions below her to help with the pain. Her occasional groan and Murphy’s muffled curses were the only sounds in the room. It hurt, obviously it hurt. But not as bad as it once did. She’s experienced far worse.
By the time Murphy said he was done the room released a collective breath. Clarke was drifting on the edge of unconsciousness as he used the towels to clean them both up.
He opened his mouth to tell her to rest when his phone rang. John checked the caller ID before answering because everyone who normally would’ve been calling was in the room with him. It took a good second to recognize the area code.
Clarke, who has always been too good at reading him, noticed how he stiffened as he stared at his phone.
“He’ll keep calling until you answer.”
His nostrils flared as he answered the phone without speaking.
“Murphy?” A man’s hesitant voice called out.
John clenched his fists again and it took everything in him not to lose it. Clarke and all of his friends were watching him. He’s not an angry teenager anymore, he didn’t want to scare anyone.
An exasperated sigh echoed. “I take it she made it then?”
“As if I’d tell you anything about her.”
“Son -“
“Don’t.” Murphy snapped. “Don’t you dare call me that.”
“Murph.” Clarke blindly reached out her right hand while her left arm was draped over her eyes.
He took it because he knew she was trying to calm them both.
“Just… keep her safe, please? Call me at this number if she needs anything… If either of you need anything.”
“Is anyone after her?”
He saw the way Lincoln, Miller and Bellamy all stood a bit taller with the question of a potential threat. He has grown, but not enough to not to roll his eyes at their behavior.
“No. No one’s noticed she’s left. Yet.”
“Keep it that way.” Murphy hung up.
Clarke slightly lifted her arm to peak at him. “Kane means well.”
He wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her for defending someone who was never able to keep her safe. Since she was injured, he settled for glaring at her instead. “It’s not enough.”
“Not that this isn’t all very mysterious and exciting, but can someone explain now?” Jasper looked pointedly at Murphy. Before moving his puppy gaze to Clarke, “That was brilliantly badass by the way. I’m Jasper Jordan.”
“Clarke.” She offered a shy smile but with the bruises and swelling it didn’t look much better than a grimace. It didn’t escape anyone’s notice that she avoided revealing her full name.
“How do you know Murphy?” Bellamy asked with his arms crossed over his chest from the corner of the room.
Emori stepped closer to be level with John. Her bright grin made him smile fondly at her before wrapping an arm around her waist. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
Clarke’s brow furrowed as she took in the girl’s appearance. She had stark black hair that fell to the middle of her back, beautiful sage eyes, a face tattoo, faint freckles painted across her cheeks. This woman would be a delightful challenge to sketch, if she did such a thing anymore. Clarke decided she looks scary enough to be perfect for her best friend and brother.
John noticed her approval, “This is Emori.” He suddenly looked bashful, “My girlfriend.”
Her blonde brows rose so high at the title, it to had to of been painful. Her small lips lifted at the corners and her ocean eyes lit up with mischief.
“Say a fucking word and I won’t stitch you up again when you inevitably rip them.” He smirked.
Clarke snarked, “Geez. When did you turn into a marshmallow?”
Emori laughed at the glares being exchanged between the pair. She was so excited to get to know the mysterious Clarke Griffin. The girl who her man loved as a little sister before he was forced to leave her behind. John has never spoken of Clarke to anyone, other than his girlfriend. It only occurred when he was drunk and sad. Which means Emori could count the occurrences on one hand.
The blonde pushed herself to sit up. A muffled croak crawling its way out of her throat as she leaned her head against the back of the couch.
“How do you know Murphy?” Bellamy asked again, more intensely, once she was seated properly.
Murphy looked over his shoulder, “Watch your tone, Blake”.
“It’s fine, Murphy.” She smiled sadly at him. “If I know you half as well as I did back then I’d wager no one here, except Emori, knows anything about me. I’m glad you found friends that care about you enough to be wary of me.”
John sighed, untangling himself from his girlfriend to sit beside Clarke. He had one leg up on the couch and bent at the knee so he was able to face her. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders he leaned in and whispered just for her, “I hate that I have to be sappy in front of everyone, so I’m only gonna say this once. You will always be my princess, my family. I don’t care how much time passes. Don’t question it for a fucking second. Understand?”
She responds by laying her head on his shoulder.
“Alright. I’m sorry. Enough is enough. Answers now.” Octavia demands with a huff.