to build a home // j.m

1.6; bad guys.

Murphy pressed on Freya's cold, motionless chest relentlessly, stopping to press his mouth on her open one, blowing two long breaths of air into her lungs. He pressed on her chest again, praying to every god he didn't believe in that this would work. After everything that happened, he couldn't lose her. 

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Luna shouted at him, tears streaming down her face as Octavia held her. She was looking at her last remaining family member, the only one she had been given the chance to meet. She couldn't live knowing she had never told her sister that she forgives her.

"No," Murphy admitted between giving Freya his breath. "But I'm not just going to let her die." 

Luna buried her head in Octavia's chest as Murphy persistently tried to give Freya CPR. Those who were awake in the room, which was nearly everyone due to Luna's loud sobs, were watching intently from a distance. 

"Come on Freya, you can do this," Murphy muttered to her. "Please." 

Those were the first words Freya heard as she suddenly gasped, her eyes shooting open as she struggled to regain her breath, grateful that she no longer tasted blood on her tongue. Her breaths were fast and her eyes softened when they landed on Murphy, breathing heavily in relief and running his hands through his hair. 

"John?" she croaked and Murphy's face lit up with the brightest smile Freya had ever seen. She didn't dare mention the traces of tears pooling in his green eyes. He moved next to her, squeezing his hand.

"Thank you, for not dying," he told her, earning a light laugh from Freya. 

"Thank you for saving me," she replied, staring at him intensely with a smile for a long time before Luna interrupted, stroking back her sister's hair that was sticking to her skin. Freya flinched initially at the contact but relaxed when she realised who it was. 

"Don't tell me you were worried about me," Freya joked, earning a breathless laugh from Luna, followed by another sob. Freya squeezed her hand in comfort. "I'm okay, I'm still here," she whispered. 

Luna nodded, swallowing her pride. "I forgive you," she told her softly. "I need you to know that." 

Freya smiled widely, not having the words to say what she needed to. She felt Murphy's presence disappear before he shortly returned with a wet rag. 

"We should get you cleaned up," he told her, offering the rag to Luna, who smirked and shook her head. 

"I think you can handle this one," she teased before she sauntered away, grabbing Octavia's arm and dragging her up the ladder, leaving Freya and Murphy alone, both blushing. Murphy laughed awkwardly and sat beside Freya on the hammock, facing her. Hesitantly, he raised the rag to her cheek and began to wipe away the stained blood softly. Her intense blue gaze didn't stray from him. 

"Do you feel better?" he asked, his ears burning red at the feeling off her eyes on him. 

"Yeah, I guess it only takes my heart stopping for me to feel normal again," she joked in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it only made her feel worse. In the span of twenty-four hours, she had been raped, drugged, found out she lost her father and her heart stopped. She wondered if Finn still had any of that whiskey. 

She noticed Murphy's mind reeling, and how he kept glancing nervously across the room. Freya followed his gaze and noticed Bellamy, sound asleep on a mattress across the room, Octavia was hovering over him and his face was also covered in blood. 

"I'll talk to him," Freya told Murphy. "He'll come around." 

Murphy sighed and moved his hand away from her, throwing the rag into a bucket nearby. He shook his head, refusing to meet Freya's eyes.