FROZEN STARS
TWENTY NINE

            CLARKE, FINN and Monty had gone missing. So, naturally, half the camp were running around in a panic. 

Marley wasn't one for being sucked into the chaos — though she wasn't sure, considering all the things that she'd found herself involved in, that that strategy was working — so she elected to sit with Myles in the dropship.

He'd been out hunting with Clarke and Finn. They'd found him shrouded by vegetation not too far from camp, crying out in pain, blood pouring from his wounds. He'd managed to croak out a warning of "grounders" before unconsciousness crashed over him like a wave, his eyes flickering open and closed from the blood loss.

He was barely conscious when they'd brought him back; as they'd lain him on a hammock swinging from the ceiling rafters, he'd completely passed out, at least for a while. Now he was asleep as soundly as someone as gravely injured as he was, his breathing laboured and raspy. But he was alive. And that was the most important thing.

Marley sat beside him on some sort of empty oil drum. Every so often, she'd dab his forehead with a damp rag, cooling off the fever that had begun to ravage his body, or pass him a sip of water when he'd half-open his eyes. But she wasn't a doctor and — despite her best — she wasn't sure how to help him beyond what she was already doing. Clarke was the camp's doctor and, without her, she was completely out of her depth. Marley was praying he would survived, at least long enough for Clarke to make him comfortable enough, because she didn't think she could handle much more sadness. And especially not loosing someone so young.

"Marley, are you in here?" Bellamy passed into the dropship. His voice was low so he wouldn't wake Myles; luckily, the boy's eyes remained closed and he was oblivious to his surroundings.

Marley smiled shortly. "Hey." She dabbed the sweat from the boy's brow as he let out another pained groan.

She wasn't sure whether she was intentionally avoiding Bellamy's gaze but she barely even glanced up at him when he strolled before her, slowly to avoid the loud echoing of heavy boots on metal. Marley Munroe wasn't a jealous person — in fact, she actively tried not to be — yet jealousy was the only explanation for the feeling gnawing at her stomach and chest.

"I thought someone should sit with him." She assumed, judging by the silence, that an inquiry into why she was sat her was his next question. "He shouldn't be alone."

Bellamy smiled. "Good idea."

He was stood next to her now, arms crossed over his chest. She finally glanced up at him — another small smile flashed across her lips as she did so — but only for a second. The way he was looking at her was confusing. She could feel his eyes on her as she glanced back at Myles, maybe lingering for a little too long.

"Any sign of Clarke and Finn?" Marley questioned hopefully. There was only so much she could do to help - and Myles really needed help. At least she'd know what to do.

"Nothing."

"Are you going to look for them?"

Bellamy paused hesitantly. "It's not safe."

"Oh." Marley knew better than to press the subject further; when Bellamy had made up his mind about what was best for the safety of camp, it was near impossible to change his mind. Besides, the situation was all a little awkward between them. She was sure that he had absolutely no idea why she'd gone back to quietly spoken, short sentences and she wasn't about to tell him in a hurry.

"I just came to see if you needed anything." He spoke after another pause.

"I'm good, thanks," she replied. She was making an effort not to glance up at him for more than a few seconds — she was positive her cheeks were a bright, bright red colour from embarrassment and her expression probably looked slightly manic with all the conflicting emotions flashing behind her eyes.

"But Miles needs some new bandages." She added in observation. The crimson had begun to soak straight through the bandage wrapped around his stomach. They'd managed to stem the bleeding a little when he was brought back in, her, Octavia and Raven - that was one thing she knew how to do, at least

"Oh, I'll go-"

"I've got it."

Marley stood to her feet, maybe a little too quickly, spots briefly flecking her vision. She finally looked at Bellamy for longer than a moment; the very second her gaze found his face, she was sure that her cheeks had flushed an even brighter red than before, if that was even possible. There was just so much to think about.

First, there was intrigue — was Elijah actually right or was he just being his usually overly dramatic self? Embarrassment, that she'd even let herself think or even feel half the things that she was. Jealousy, a confusing jealousy because she didn't really know why she was feeling that way. But a jealousy nonetheless. Then confusion and worry and fear and a whole host of other emotions.

Marley never even knew that someone could feel that much at once; it made her head spin.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek awkwardly. The pair held each other's gazes, not really saying much, and — even though she was sure it was only for no more than a few seconds — it still felt like an eternity. Bellamy raised an eyebrow in questioning as to why she was practically glaring at him with an unreadable, ever-changing expression.

"Thank you for offering, though."

As if right on cue, Jasper came striding slowly into the dropship. And it gave Marley and excuse to break away from this far too awkward exchange. She tucked a small spare pocket knife — one Clarke used to cut up the bandages — from the side table into her trouser pocket. Bellamy turned to glare at Jasper and, by the time he'd turned back round, Marley was already ascending the ladder towards the top deck, where Clarke kept the bandages.

She could hear the mumble of voices from below as she searched; the younger was insisting that they go after Monty, Clarke and Finn. But Bellamy wasn't convinced.

"Where are the damn bandages?" Marley muttered as she scanned every inch of the top deck in search of them.

"Lost something?" Jasper question from behind her. She almost jumped out of her skin. She turned to see him half way up the metal ladder; despite the circumstances, he wore an amused smile. "Sorry," he apologised.

"They must be here somewhere."

He began to help her look; more haphazardly than Marley, half pulling things apart in search of what she needed. They eventually found what they were looking for; Jasper pulled a roll of clean bandages out from its hiding spot — probably put there by Clarke so no one could steal it — with a grin.

"Catch!" He called, tossing the bundle across the deck towards Marley.

She fumbled but caught the bandages just seconds before they would have hit her square in the face. "Thanks." It came out sounding a little more sarcastic than she'd intended.

"Water..." she could hear miles groan from below.

"I'll get you some." Bellamy muttered given Marley's absence. She could hear his footsteps echoing as he left the dropship.

"Dammit," Jasper cusses as he turned towards the table of gunpowder behind him. "No containers." He muttered in reply to a question she hadn't even had time to ask yet.

He began to descend the ladder, followed closely by Marley who needed to return to Miles. Their feet made clanking noises against the metal as they moved.

They could hear struggling as they did so - and someone muttering under their breath. She thought at first it was Bellamy having returned with the water he'd promised but, when she'd glanced round in a panic, half-expecting to see Myles in some sort of distress and Bellamy working to help him, she froze.

Instead of Bellamy, Murphy loomed over the boy, hands pulling away the second he heard footsteps behind him.

"He just- he stopped breathing." He lied, faking innocence, like they hadn't just seen him smother the injured boy. "I was trying to help him."

All three of them remained silent, glaring at each other nervously. Jasper has begun to slowly lower himself down the rest of the ladder's rungs; Marley still couldn't move. Her hands felt like they were slipping away from the metal — honestly, she felt like she was going to fall straight from the ladder and land flat on the metal floor, still paralysed from fear at what she'd just seen.

Myles was dead. And Murphy had just killed him.

What happened next happened so quickly that Marley barely had time to register it.

Jasper and Murphy lunged towards a gun which was laying on the table; Murphy reached the weapon first. He aimed it towards the ground, eyebrows furrowed and an expression of confusion on his face. His breathing was shallow, erratic. Jasper stood with his hands up, edging away from the loaded gun and the boy who held it.

"Put the weapon down." Jasper's voice was calm. He held his hands out in front of himself - half to shield himself from any potential attack, half to encourage Murphy to drop the weapon.

"He tried to kill me!" Murphy insisted, trying to rationalise his earlier actions. Jasper's eyes widened at his words. He moved to back away, to run from the dropship. His eyes glanced fleetingly at Marley; he was willing her to haul herself back up the latter and barricade herself on the top deck. "Hey! Don't move!" Murphy ordered.

He turned the gun to Marley finally. "Get down from there."

Eyes screwed shut — half hoping that, when she opened her eyes, it would have all been a dream and she'd just fallen asleep in the chair whilst tending to Myles (she had been tired earlier) — she stayed where she was. She still couldn't move. Why couldn't she move?

It was only when Murphy marched towards her, gun cocked, that she finally regained control of her limbs. She tried to haul herself up, her legs heavy, like someone had tied two gigantic weight to them and they were pulling her down. She made it about two steps before his hand latched around her ankle.

"No, no, no-" she pleaded.

Murphy yanked her from the ladder. She landed flat on her back with an almighty thud, pain shooting through her entire body. She cried out in pain. She was half-panicking that the fall had caused something bad; pain had shot through her limbs like gunfire, lingering like a thousand white hot needles jabbing into her skin. She curled her fingers and toes, relief washing over her when she realised that she could at least still move. If she'd been higher up or fallen differently, maybe she might not have been so lucky.

"I told you not to move."

"Okay, okay, it's cool." Jasper insisted, trying again to get the other boy to drop it.

"No, it's not," Murphy scoffed. "You know what will happen if you tell Bellamy."

The radio crackled. "Tell Bellamy what?" His low voice questioned through the static.

Jasper's hand was jammed firmly in his pocket; he winced as Murphy, gun now raised in his direction, dropped his eyes to where he was clutching what would surely be he and Marley's best chance at making it out of the dropship uninjured and alive.

"Give me the radio."

"Jasper, no-" Marley half-pleaded. A painful groan escaped her lips as she managed to push herself to a seating position. She shuffled towards the ladder, pressing her spine against the cool metal. The pain was still a little too uncomfortable for her to lift herself to her feet.

"Shut up!" Murphy yelled.

Jasper inched the radio from his trouser pocket slowly. "Murphy has a gun and he killed Myles." He shouted into the radio.

Murphy lunged forward, knocking Jasper flat to the floor unconscious. He turned the gun on Marley yet again. "Don't. Move," he sneered.

"Murphy, what the hell are you doing?" Bellamy's voice came through the radio which was laying on the ground beside Jasper.

But he just completely ignored it. He was striding towards the ship's entrance, slamming his hand against the button which closed its doors. There was a loud grinding sound; the light was blotted out and the dropship descended into a darkness.

"Murphy!" Bellamy's voice yelled from outside, only just loud enough to be heard through the thick metal, though muffled. "Open the damn door!"

"You try to be a hero, Marley and Jasper die!"

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            THEY'D BEEN in the dropship for what felt like hours. There was no way to tell the time; there was no light seeping through the thick metal door separating them from the rest of the camp.

Murphy had tied both Marley and Jasper up. They sat side-by-side, backs pressed against the wall, arms and legs bound together far too tightly. A gag covered their mouth and muffled any potential protests.

Marley could barely think straight. It was like every one of her senses was heightened; despite the amount of times she'd faced a situation when she could potentially die, she still wasn't prepared for the fear that shot through her veins. And, besides, this time was different. There was no obvious way out. Murphy was probably going to kill them - he'd already killed Myles, why would they be so lucky as to escape him? Tears has dampened her cheeks despite her best efforts to hold them back.

Octavia's muffled shouts came from outside — something about killing Murphy if anything happened to either of her friends — but they were cut short, presumably by Bellamy as, just seconds later, his voice sounded through the hum of white noise on the radio.

"Murphy, I know you can hear me."

Silence. Murphy simply ignored Bellamy in favour of covering Myles' corpse so he didn't have to stand staring at his dead body. He sighed and turned to glare at the pair tied up on the floor.

"All our ammo and food is on the middle level, you know that. You're leaving us vulnerable and I can't let you do that. I can't let that happen."

Murphy scooped the radio up from the table. "Yeah, well, in case you haven't noticed, you're not exactly in control right now." He scoffed.

The table. Marley almost gasped at the realisation; luckily enough, the gag Murphy had placed over her mouth masked it. Marley had a knife.

Having her hands tied tightly behind her back made movement difficult, near impossible, and there was no way she could reach it herself. Murphy was distracted by Bellamy and his taunts on the other end of the radio — he was testing him, daring him to let them both go in exchange for Marley and Jasper's safety — and it looked like those taunts were working, his expression twisting to one of contemplation.

Marley began to work her jaw, managing to spit the gag from her mouth. Jasper was glancing between her and Murphy who was too wrapped up in his exchange with Bellamy to even notice what they were doing; he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"In my pocket," she murmured.

With a furrowed eyebrow, Jasper managed to shuffle closer, his fingers grasping the handle of the knife which was poking out of the top of her pocket. It clattered to the ground, the sound of metal on metal echoing harshly through the dropship. Marley and Jasper cringed in unison though Murphy didn't seem to notice. He was too busy contemplating Bellamy's offer to notice.

Luckily, the knife hadn't fallen too far from Marley's hand and she'd grasped its handle before Murphy's gaze fell to the pair of them, a smirk crossing his dirty face.

The knife was sharp but Marley could barely reach her bonds. Jasper couldn't cut her loose, either. That would be too obvious. Instead she resigned to sawing back and forth; it was a difficult task and she pressed the knife harshly enough against the rope, moving it slowly against her bonds so Murphy couldn't see her movements.

"How about you trade them for me?" Bellamy offered. "All you have to do is let them go and I'll take their place."

But there were two of them and only one Bellamy. There was no way it could be that easy. And Marley couldn't bare to think of anyone sacrificing themselves for her — completely unremarkable Marley Munroe — especially not someone important to camp like Bellamy. She felt sick, like someone had reached into her stomach and twisted it. 

Murphy shot a glare at his two hostages. His gaze was laced with hostility; it lingered on the pair who were probably looking up at him with so much fear that it was probably laughable to him. It was also probably why he kept grinning at them with the most malicious smile Marley had seen since Tate.

"How?" Murphy asked into the radio.

"Simple. You open the door, I walk in, Marley and Jasper walk out."

After a second — a brief pause that seemed like an agonising eternity — Murphy pressed the button to open the dropship's door. Both Marley and Jasper released a sigh, their shoulders dropping in relief.

"Just you, Bellamy - unarmed!" Murphy yelled. He grabbed Jasper by the arm, yanking him roughly to his feet. The gun was back in his hand; he pressed it into his spine, nudging him forward. "Ten seconds or I'll put one in Jasper's leg."

"Not you," he sneered at Marley, "you stay here."

"But, I-" she barely had time to protest.

"No, she comes too," Jasper insisted weakly.

Murphy chuckled shortly. "I don't think you're exactly in the position to be making demands, do you?"

Jasper tried to struggling his way back to Marley, trying his best to extend a hand to pull her to her feet. But Murphy had other plans. He jammed the butt of the gun harshly into Jasper's spine; he cried out and stumbled forward, almost falling flat onto his face.

"Jasper-" Marley smiled weakly. "-it's okay. I'll- I'll stay." She didn't want to — of course she didn't — but if it meant saving Jasper, maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to find another way out. And, if either of them had to die, the obvious choice was her.

"One..." Murphy began his countdown impatiently. "Two... three... four... five-"

"I'm here." Even in times like this, Bellamy still held authority in his voice.

"Lucky for you, huh?"

As the clanging of boots on metal sounded and Bellamy's figure appeared through the material obscuring them from the rest of camp, Murphy shoved Jasper forward. He was sent tumbling — bound hands unable to break his fall as he stumbled forward — and thudded against the dusty ground outside.

Tears had begun to fall again; she couldn't help them. She really was going to die this time. This was it.

When Bellamy saw her, back pressed against something jagged which was digging awkwardly into her spine, hands and legs still tied tightly, his face twisted and his eyes widened. They made eye contact — Bellamy noticing the way her eyes were sparkling as more tears threatened to spill past her lashes — and Marley silently pleaded with him that they would find a way out.

"What about Marley?" He demanded, "The deal was you'd let both of them go."

"An eye for an eye." Murphy shrugged. He raised the gun at Bellamy.

"Please, just let us go." Marley didn't want to beg for her life but, at this point, it seemed the only option. It was like her voice was separate from her body when she spoke.

"I can't do that."

"She's done nothing wrong, Murphy."

He shrugged in reply again. "That's not my problem.

"Please. You can't do this, I-"

"You know, for someone so quiet you sure do talk a lot." He sneered. He marched forward, grabbing the gag which she'd managed to work from her mouth.

"Please don't kill me," she whispered. She stared back at him — her gaze was frenzied and frightened, her grey eyes sparkling from the tears. It was hard to read his expression; part of her thought that maybe he didn't want to do this, that he felt like he had to as some sort of twisted payback for what had happened to him, but the other part was sure that he didn't care.

"I'm not going to kill you," he chuckled, standing back to his feet. He rubbed his hand across his face. "You're just going to sit there and watch."

Marley was choking down sobs. They were muffled by the gag around her mouth, now so tight that it was almost tugging at her cheeks, and she had to admit she was — in a twisted way — grateful for that as her shoulders shook.

"Just let her go. You don't really want to hurt her."

"No, but I want to hurt you."

The sobs had only made Marley's attempts to escape more frantic. She was moving the knife as fast as she could against her binds — it still wasn't doing much damage but at the very least they were loosening — and Murphy was far too preoccupied with Bellamy to even notice that her movements were anymore than sobs and shakes.

Murphy's eyes turned towards the table beside them. There were loose seatbelts draped over its surface. Marley's eyes widened as she realised his intention once he ordered Bellamy to make a knot out of the smaller grey one. She tried to voice her protests to the idea but they came out in muffled gargles and choking sobs.

Whatever he was planning, it surely wasn't good.

"You've got to be kidding me." Bellamy scoffed. He crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow at Murphy.

"Do you want Marley to die?"

"No."

Murphy fired two gunshots at the wall. They rang through dropship, the sound ricocheting off the walls. Marley flinched out of the way; the bullets landed above her head and she could feel the wall vibrating from where they'd hit. Her ears rung painfully from the din — though only for a second — and she cringed at the buzzing that lingered long after the strange humming of the metal walls ceased.

There were two gunshots, enough to kill both of them. It was a sure way to send those outside into a panic.

"That's good. Then do what I said." Murphy ordered.

"Bellamy?" Octavia's voice came muffled through the radio. "Bellamy, are you okay? Is Marley okay?"

Bellamy's eyes scanned between Murphy and the radio; they were calculating, debating whether or not he could grab the radio and answer his little sister's worries without being shot.

"Want her to know that you're alive? Then start tying."

"Bellamy, do you copy?" Octavia tried again, desperately trying to earn a reply from her brother.

Murphy didn't press the button until Bellamy had reluctantly picked up the seatbelt. "We're fine." He reassured Octavia with a lie. Sure, they weren't injured but they really weren't all that okay. Especially given that Murphy's intentions were to kill him. "It was just a misfire."

Bellamy's glare had previously been on Murphy and his gun, glancing between them and the seatbelt he was tying in a knot. Now, his eyes were on Marley; they'd softened with reassurance and apology. Her gaze was half blurred by tears yet she still managed to fix it on his face. "Now, stop worrying about us and get back to work. All of you." His eyes never left hers as he spoke. "And tell Raven to hurry her ass up."

It seemed that the last part was intended more for Marley than anyone else. It surely meant they had a plan. Maybe they really would make it out alive?

"Alright, that's long enough. Tie those two ends together."

Bellamy let out a sigh as he carried on knotting the seatbelts. There were about seven of them, all tied in one chain, a big loop in the final one.

"Alright. Get up and toss it over." He motioned overhead with his gun and the trios eyes glanced skywards towards a metal beam trailing across the ceiling.

Murphy wanted Bellamy to hang just like he did.

"Bellamy, no." Marley's voice was so muffled that she wasn't even sure they'd be able to understand what she was saying.

Throughout it all, she'd been sawing through her wrist binds as best she could. Her movements were growing ever more frantic; panic was curling inside her chest. Her movements were so erratic — still somehow disguised by her crying — that she could feel the rope burning into her skin. She couldn't even see if it was working but it was better than just sitting there doing nothing.

"Shut up or I'll shoot you in the leg."

"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to apologise?" Bellamy had thrown the noose over the beam which had earned a menacing smirk from Murphy. "Well, I'm sorry."

"You've got it all wrong. I don't want you to say anything. I want you to feel what I felt and then-" He chuckled. "Then I want you to die."

It was horribly fitting that the noose was red. Red meant danger and anger and blood.

"Stand on it." Murphy ordered in regards to a stool — the one Marley had been sat on beside Myles earlier — that now sat underneath the metal beam.

Bellamy reluctantly complied.

"Put it over your head."

"Stop!" Marley insisted. She gulped down sobs but they still kept rising. Tears continued to spill down her already tear-stained cheeks.

"I said shut up!" Murphy growled. He shot another bullet into the wall above Marley's head. She cried out, eyes screwed tightly shut as a shower of sparks cascaded down over her head. They fizzled out before they could burn her skin.

"If you hurt her, I'll-" Bellamy warmed before he was interrupted.

"What? What are you going to do?" Murphy scoffed. "Put it over your head." He repeated.

Bellamy reluctantly complied again. "Happy now?" The seatbelt hung loosely around his neck.

Murphy tugged on the seatbelt and it tightened around his neck. A hand flew up in an attempt to loosen its chokehold. He expression was a mixture of anger and pain.

"You're so brave, aren't you? You came in here thinking you were going to turn this whole thing around, save Marley and Jasper and be this big hero." He hummed, shaking his head. Every single word that left his mouth was a taunt. "You thought you were stronger than me and that maybe one of your friends would come and help you."

He scoffed like the whole situation was laughable. Like this was nothing more than a childish disagreement with no real responsibilities. "What are you thinking now Bellamy, huh?"

Murphy pulled on the seatbelt rope again and Bellamy began to struggle even more, gasping uncomfortably as his hands latched around the fabric tightening around his neck.

He was gasping. His face was turning red.

By some miracle — and a lot of muffled protests — Marley had managed to work the gag away from her mouth again. Her jaw ached from the contortion. The gag had been on so tight that it felt as if it was still smothering her mouth.

"Murphy!"

The boy glanced at her briefly; his face flashed with anger once he realised that her gag had fallen away, especially since he couldn't let go of the rope to re-tie it. Not unless he wanted Bellamy to get away.

"Murphy, listen to me. You don't have to do this," Marley whispered, "I know you're angry but you don't have to do this. I've been there too and you don't- you don't have to hurt someone. It won't make it better."

"No, but it'll make up for what you did to me." Murphy scoffed. His gaze and the aim of his gun never once left Bellamy. He was still struggling against the noose, desperately trying to keep his footing on the wobbling stool; he could barely stand, his toes touching its top just enough to keep him upright.

Marley took a deep breath; it was shaky from her sobs which still hadn't ceased despite her attempts to compose herself. "When I was in the skybox wanted to kill Tate. Even planned on how I'd do it, right down to the last detail." Marley's voice was just steady enough. "I was so sure I was going to do it but then where would that have got me?"

Murphy was listening now though his expression was unreadable.

"You don't have to do this, Murphy." Her voice sounded frenzied.

He paused for a second. "But I do."

And with that, he kicked the stool out from underneath Bellamy's feet.

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a/n: 4843 WORDS?! wow i'm proud of myself for that

lmao so i noticed halfway through it was actually spelt myles and not miles (thank you amazon prime xx) so i went back and changed it and i think i've got them all but if i haven't, sorryyyy

whew this chapter is a MONSTER and so much goes on but i think y'all might like the next chapter because a *thing* is happening (maybe not the thing y'all want or assume but trust me it's a THING)