somewhere | b.blake ✔️

1x04 Part 2✔️

"Holding my breath, won't lose you again
Something's made your eyes go cold
Come on, come on don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out"

- Haunted, Taylor Swift (Taylor's Version)

*****

There are 31,556,952 seconds in one full year.

John Murphy has been hanging from a tree, dying, for 30 of those seconds.

It's terrifying how quickly his face has turned purple beneath the streaks of blood, the noose digging deep into his skin as oxygen slips away.

Ash feels like she's unraveling, torn between screaming or sobbing. She's doing both—breathing erratic and panicked as Bellamy and Clarke shout at each other in the background.

Clarke's yelling at Bellamy for kicking the crate from under Murphy. Bellamy's voice matches hers in frustration, saying that she started all this with her accusations.

They're both right, but Ash can't focus on that. She can't afford to.

Suddenly, Finn's voice cuts through the chaos. "What the hell are you doing? Cut him down! Charlotte, get out of here now!" His command sends a wave of relief through Ash.

"Sorry, Spacewalker." A boy named Connor sneers, gripping his knife tighter. "Not this time."

With the attention fixed on Finn and Connor, Ash twists free of the hands holding her back. She stumbles toward John, her mind racing. If she doesn't move fast enough, he'll be dead.

"Stop! Okay? Murphy didn't kill Wells!" Charlotte's voice slices through the rising tension.

Ash freezes. The entire camp turns toward the trembling girl.

"I did."

Her words seem to echo. Ash blinks, waiting for reality to shift, but it doesn't. Before anyone else can react, she lunges forward, grabs Bellamy's axe, and cuts Murphy down in three savage strikes.

He crashes to the ground with a painful thud, gasping, coughing, and barely able to suck in the air he so desperately needs.

He's alive.

Ash kneels beside him, her breath shaky and voice hoarse. "Don't you ever scare me like that again."

John groans, a weak smile tugging at his lips. "Deal."

She helps him sit up, his face still pale and clammy. His dark eyes lock onto the tent where Bellamy and Clarke have dragged Charlotte inside. Ash doesn't have to ask; she knows exactly what he's thinking.

"No." She whispers firmly. "I know you're angry, but she's twelve years old. Just a kid."

John's jaw clenches, eyes flashing with pain. "They were going to kill me, Ash. One more minute, and I'd be dead. That's not fair."

Ash looks at him, heart pounding in her chest. "I know, but you can't kill her. That won't solve anything either."

His gaze softens, and he lets out a breath. "I'm not going to kill her."

"Okay," she murmurs, more to herself than him. "Okay."

Her mind repeats those words as she stands up, bracing herself for what comes next.

Outside the tent, John's voice rises, sharp and cutting. "You want to build a society, Princess? Then let's build one. Bring the girl out!"

Her stomach twists as Bellamy steps out of the tent, his face hard, his movements slow and deliberate. There's a flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe?—as he sees Murphy's bruised face.