Worry
John Murphy x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 2618 words
Warnings: none
Summary: Clarke putting you in charge of Murphy when they find him, all beat up and half dead, but he ends up taking care of her in the end.
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When the others came back to camp without John, you knew what it meant.
It was a death sentence, even if Bellamy and Clarke wouldn’t admit it to themselves. If the grounders didn’t kill him, which was a big enough if, exposure and dehydration would have.
There was no way around that.
Even if you wanted to find one, eventually you had to come to terms with the fact that he couldn't have survived all on his own out there.
You were sure of that much.
Though, just when you had begun to process the fact that you had to live in this camp, alongside everyone who’d had a part in his death, this new world found a way to prove you wrong.
“What is going on?” you asked, finding it hard not to be irritated already.
It was bad enough you had to carry the slack of the others dropping the ball with their chores, but now you had to help Clarke, of all things.
Which, naturally, wasn’t ideal.
Just because everyone else had moved past John’s banishment already didn’t mean you were going to do the same. You knew that what they had done that day wasn’t right and you weren’t about to pretend otherwise.
It wasn’t fair.
Still, you didn’t want to hear about neglecting your responsibilities and not doing your part again, so you showed up anyway.
It wasn’t like there was anything else better for you to be doing, anyway.
“Didn’t you hear the trip wire?” Bellamy questioned, as soon as you made yourself known. It was a mystery to him how you managed to be so nonchalant about everything, but he’d gotten over asking after all this time.
You wouldn’t tell him even if he did.
You nodded, recalling the sound and the chaos that followed outside your tent but you didn’t think too much of it. Around here, a falling pine cone was liable to get the same reaction from most of the hundred.
It made you miss Murphy that much more.
He was one of the only things about this place that you found tolerable, and now, there was nothing.
Nothing, of course, except for the high alert you’d grown used to in camp, with everyone convinced there were grounders abound, getting ready to ambush you in the dark.
“Well, it wasn’t a grounder out there” he allowed, finally giving you some room.
You had no idea what that meant, or why they needed you, but that didn’t stop you from stepping up into the dropship, searching for anything that would clue you in on what was so bad they needed you.
Usually, they just left you alone.
Everyone left you alone, because after everything with Murphy, they didn’t know what to say. Though, to be fair, there wasn’t anything to say, or do, that would make it any better.
He was gone and they couldn’t bring him back.
…at least, not that you knew.
You couldn’t help but rethink that after entering the dropship to find Clarke knelt down over another, against the wall farthest from you.
It didn’t make sense.
In your head, you knew that he was dead. That there was no way he could have possibly survived out there on his own, but it was hard to argue with what you were seeing.
The boogeyman out in the darkness wasn’t some terrible monster or an army waiting to slaughter you all in your sleep.
It was Murphy.
Barely alive, but alive nonetheless.
“Shit” you barely let out, trying to keep your lungs from physically imploding in your chest. You knew you should have come up with something better, and more eloquent, but that was all you had.
What more was there to say, really?
You thought he was dead.
In fact you were sure of it, until right now.
“What happened to him?” you sighed, once the reality of the situation actually kicked in. You had never seen the man in question in worse shape, and that wasn’t from a lack of trying.
He’d gotten into his fair share of scrapes, even before being locked up on the Ark, but this was a different level.
The grounders tortured him.
Nearly killed him and then just opened the door and let him out.
You couldn’t believe it.
This whole time, you thought that he had died but the reality was so much worse than that. Considering the state he was in, even the most brutal death out there would have been kinder.
Anything would have been kinder.
“The grounders captured him, after-” Clarke started, but you couldn't help but interrupt her, finding it so incredibly typical that she would react the way she was now.
Like this whole thing wasn’t partially her fault.
Like all his blood wasn’t on her hands, just as much as Bellamy.
“-After you left him to die in the woods”
There was no love lost between you and the blonde, that was true, but this went far beyond some tiffs about who was in charge and who made the decisions.
This was about John’s life, which she had taken into her own hands over some little girl that none of you even knew all that well before she committed a murder.
It was a hell of a lot bigger than a disagreement over leadership.
It was about loyalty, and love.
Two things she couldn't have ever hoped to understand.
“We just need someone to look after him” she hummed, having given up on the task ahead of her. Clarke was already aware that there was nothing she could do to convince you that they had made the right call.
That didn’t make it the wrong one. It just made it hard for you to accept, but that wasn’t why you were here.
Clarke believed Murphy’s story.
The only trouble was that she couldn’t bring herself to trust him, or to really care what happened to him.
So, she found the only person in camp who did.
You.
It was unavoidable.
To most everyone in the camp, John Murphy was lower than scum but for some reason, you didn’t seem to get the memo.
You cared about him, and as annoying as it was, it was going to serve her well today.
Clarke had things to do, things that she had to be the one to do, and that meant that she couldn't just sit around and babysit him until he was well enough to be helpful.
You, however, could.
Most of the time you were packing rations or cleaning guns, jobs that anyone could have done and would. They wouldn’t miss you for a couple of days, while you were focused on something else.
Besides, it wasn’t like anyone would argue over it. No one else wanted to put up with Murphy in good spirits, let alone Murphy when he was sick and wounded.
“Let me get this straight, you want me to babysit him until he’s useful, just so you can throw him back out there again? Knowing what they did to him the first time?” you clarified, your eyes just barely flicking to the man you loved before landing on her again.
They had to be kidding.
It was bad enough they had taken him from you once, but now they wanted to do it again? And not only that, they wanted you to help this time.
It was a joke.
It had to be.
“Once he heals, we’ll find out what he knows, then he’s gone” Bellamy confirmed, not caring all that much for the way you were treating the blonde. He understood that you cared about Murphy.
That just didn’t mean anything here.
It couldn’t.
The words stung to hear, but they didn’t surprise you. From the moment you saw him, you knew better than to assume he’d remain within these walls for long, even given the miserable state of him.
They had banished him the first time and you weren’t about to put it past Clarke or Bellamy to kick him out again.
It was a miracle they’d even let him in at all.
Given the history he shared with most of the members of this camp, you half expected them to leave him to die, right outside the walls of the camp.
…but Clarke had made a different call.
It was like Bellamy said, they believed what he’d told Clarke about the grounders, and that he may have some valuable information to share once he got better.
At the very least, it was keeping him alive.
For now.
~
“You need to sleep”
John’s voice echoing slightly around the dropship startled you, but that was mostly because he’d been sleeping for the past sixteen hours.
You didn’t even know he realized you were here.
“No, that’s your job” you hummed, immediately rushing to get a clean rag from the bucket, the cool water stained pink with all the blood you’d had to wash from his skin earlier.
It ran over your fingers and trickled back into the basin below, electing a gentle sigh from you that you were quick to cover up.
You hadn’t slept in who knows how long, but it didn’t matter.
All you cared about was making sure John stayed not-dead.
Besides, you were almost positive that you couldn’t have slept if you tried. There was just too much on your mind.
This whole thing, all of it, was just so hard to believe.
You couldn’t believe that you were here, or that John was alive, or that any of this was really happening.
It just didn’t feel real.
Still, that didn’t change the fact that every time you opened your eyes, you found yourself still on the ground, and every time you had blinked since he’d gotten back, your heart shattered that much more.
In your head, it was like he was still dead.
Like his side of your bed was cold and empty, and he was never coming back.
“I’m serious. When’s the last time you went outside?” Murphy asked, gesturing to the mouth of the dropship with about as much strength as he could muster.
The grounders had really done a number on him and considering everything you had done to help him so far, it almost seemed like he was getting worse.
You didn’t know what to do, but like always, he didn’t care.
He didn’t care about anything more than what you were doing and when you had taken care of yourself last.
It was almost a joke.
He’d been a ghost this whole time, and now that he was back, all he cared about was making sure you slept, and got some fresh air.
The idea nearly made you laugh, and maybe it would have, if you hadn’t been on the verge of total exhaustion.
“Don’t worry about that. All you need to worry about is getting better” you countered, pressing the cool cloth to his forehead.
It was going to take him quite a while to heal completely after the beating the grounders had given him, but at least he was cleaned up now.
You just hoped the cough he’d developed would clear up soon.
Not that you had much time to worry about that before John made up his own mind. If you weren’t going to take a break on your own, he was just going to have to make you.
There was no way around it.
“Where are you going?” you asked, watching as the man you loved forced his weak frame up from his hammock and stood. While it was possible he was no longer tired, that didn’t mean he needed to be up.
He definitely couldn’t go walking around.
If Clarke and Bellamy caught wind of John getting better, they would force him out again and you just weren’t ready for that.
You weren’t ready to lose him again so soon, and you weren’t ready to face what would happen if you did.
“You need to get some rest, so either you go back to your tent on your own or I’ll drag you out myself” the male threatened, bringing a small smile to your face as you considered how that would go.
John would have had a hell of a time dragging you anywhere normally, led alone in the state he was in but rather than call his bluff, you sighed.
Knowing him, Murphy would manage to find a way if you doubted him.
“Okay, but you can’t go anywhere. You have to promise” you decided, looking him in the eye. Even if it didn’t seem reasonable to you, you knew that Murphy would find a way to prove you wrong if you doubted him.
…and the last thing he needed was to do more damage to himself by being stubborn.
I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sleep here” you suggested, not willing to leave his side quite yet. You were terrified, still, that something awful was going to happen if you didn’t keep an eye on him.
He’d slipped through your fingers once before, and you wouldn't trust it wouldn’t happen again.
Murphy huffed, in that definitant kind of way that he often did but you didn’t pay him any mind. He wasn’t in any position to make demands, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t tired.
Taking care of him, in his state, was a full time job and it wasn’t getting any easier.
“Fine, lay down” he all but ordered, sure that if you didn’t do as he asked right now, you would find some kind of excuse to be up and about.
Sometimes, it was almost like you thought the world would fall off its axis if you ever took a break.
Of course, at his prompting, you let out a similar huff to the one he’d let out previously but just as you’d done, John ignored it.
All you needed to do was rest.
You didn’t like the idea of taking his bed, given the circumstances, but clearly, Murphy wasn’t asking. He wasn’t addressing you in the way that meant you had a choice in the matter, no matter how hard you tried.
“Everything is going to be fine. I’ll be right here when you wake up” John assured, closing the space between the two of you and taking your hands in his own.
He knew you were afraid of all this, and worried about him, but you just had to trust him on this.
You had to know he’d protect you so that you could rest for a while.
“Okay? I’m not going anywhere” Murphy promised, gingerly helping you get adjusted into the hammock below you and pressing a small kiss to your forehead.
Then, once he was convinced that you were settled, the male in question slid his back against the wall opposite you until he found his own place to rest against the floor.
In all honesty, this would be good for both of you.
He had been in that stupid hammock for hours, and if he stayed in it much longer, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get out of it again.
You, however, could certainly use a break from being on your feet. Murphy was almost sure that you hadn’t even sat down in that past ten hours.
You weren’t ready to close your eyes, by any means, but rather than argue with the man in front of you, you forced an exhausted sigh from your lungs and closed your eyes.
All you hoped was that he was telling the truth and that John would still be there when you opened them again.
You didn’t want to lose him.
Not again.