F O R T Y  T W O

All around her, darkness breathed and icy white crows soar. They circle her and caw as they fly by, telling her to rise.

So she rises to her feet, as they command, and slowly looks all around, but there was little to see. Althea was stood in the middle of a forest on the end of a bridge looking across it, into the gloom of the forest that sung to her in a symphony unheard of. It vibrated through every ounce of her being, through her veins and around her skull.

A single white crow hovers beside her before landing on her shoulder, its talons grip into the skin of her shoulder but she bites back the hiss of pain, fearful to make a sound into the dead of night. Blood swelled to the surface, soaking into the ancient cloth of her jacket. A stain that could never be removed.

Althea looks to the crow upon her shoulder, her lips parting in awe of its presence, but the sound of war drums brings her attention right back to the darkness that seemed to be closing in on her every time she breathed.

Even the air was cold.

From the dark, emerges several grounders. They do not walk with power, they walk in pain and their groans were haunting as they attacked her ears and bounced within the marrow of her bones. They were covered in blood and the furthest one away had an arm missing.

More emerge and the groans only grow louder. She turned away, but they were surrounding her and closing in. They eyes screamed with agony and their moans of burning pain as they lumbered towards her were deafening.

Frozen in fear, Althea watches them in their dead march, barely breathing as they come closer and closer.

Her veins ran cold.

Only an arm's reach away, the lead grounder reaches their hand out to her, blood covered and mangled. It grabs for her arm and she jolts away, her eyes wild with panic.

The next noise is shattering. An explosion.

An explosion of light and fire, warped by fury and hate.

Althea screamed along in the chorus of the doomed as the fire overwhelmed them, shielding her eyes with her arm, fear was thick.

A pair of hands clamped down on her shoulders, halting her trembles where she stood. "Thea?" The voice said. She moved her arm from her eyes, but she didn't have to do that to know who was before her. "Thea, you're ok."

She curled into the arms of John Murphy and wept into his chest.

"They all died except me," She said between hiccups, begging herself to calm down, but her heart resisted. "Why didn't I die, Murphy?"

"Because we're survivors." He rubs her back, soothing her pain. "And we can't save everybody."

"We can try," Althea objects, pulling out of the hug to look into his eyes as she spoke her next words. His eyes were as electric ad ever, pulling her out of the depths like a beacon. "I want to try."

"You're just one girl. You're not going to be able to do it," He tells her, squeezing her shoulders. "It's impossible."

"Don't be like this. Not now. Not when I need you to be strong and optimistic for me." She shakes her head, her throat tightening as she looks at the defeat in his eyes.

"I'm being realistic."

"No, you're being you."

The darkness was closing in again. They were no longer on the bridge and the cremated grounders were no longer at their feet, tearing at her already tattered soul.

She felt Murphy's grip on her weaken and he looked at her with something new in his eyes. Althea swallows, looking right back at him.

His expression twists from comfort to a horrific expression that Althea never wanted to see again. "Sometimes, we need to know when to let go," He says, and then he pushes her with all his strength. Althea, before she can react, flies backwards into the darkness, falling through the air and thudding into the frozen ground. The wind is knocked from her chest and her head smacks back against the dirt.

With tears in her eyes, it all goes black.

-

Althea shoots up with a start, her chest aching and her shoulders rising and falling rapidly with every breath. Her eyes dart around the room. This was the drop ship. She was safe. She was not dead. It was a dream, a nightmare.

Her throat was dry and scratchy; she swallows and looks beside herself at the empty space. He was gone, but moments later he appears through the entrance and walks right over to her. His hair was wild and his eyes cool as they looked over her.

Before he can even sit down, she grabs a hold of his hand and pulls him down next to her. The grip on his hand was vice like, which instantly sent the red flags up.

"Are you ok?" Murphy asks, frowning.

Althea nods her head, pulling herself closer to him. Murphy smelt like blood and earth; the scent wrapped itself around her and drew her in. It didn't smell like blood and earth to her. To Althea, it smelt like Murphy.

"I'm going to need you to promise me something, and this time you can't break it, ok?" Her voice was small and quiet, he had to lean closer to hear her.

"Depends what it is," Murphy says, but he gulps nervously as Althea leans even closer, so close her lips brush against his ear and shoot shivers down his spin. Her hand reaches up to his cheek, cradling it. She was delicate and yet intimate all at once, like a rose reaching to the sky with all its petals and thorns. He holds her waist, ignoring the thorns, and wondered whether she could hear his heartbeat soaring.

"Promise to never leave me behind, Murphy," She whispers, the words tingling his ear. She draws back when she asks her promise, looking him right in his immobilising eyes. "Promise me."

Murphy's lips parted slightly; he was speechless. Speechless at the effect Althea had on him and the compelling drive he felt to agree to her promise. The way she begged him with her eyes like she'd seen things far greater than the present. She wasn't far from him, their faces only centimetres apart, and she still held his jaw as if she were afraid to let go.

"I promise," Murphy says. "I promise never to leave you behind." And he smiles so brightly that its contagious: Althea let out a soft laugh and rests her forehead against his.

"Thank you," She responds, her laugh simmering down to a smile, which happened to be the most beautiful smile Murphy had ever seen. Her lips curved just right and it did not look out of place upon them. They were light pink, tempting and irresistible in such an intimate moment.

Murphy could not resist. He took her chin softly between his thumb and finger and tilted her lips to his, bringing them at last to a kiss that did not mean goodbye. It was sweet and to be remembered until their final breath.

The sweetness only left him wanting more as his hand snaked around to the back of her head, pulling her onto his lap and she more than complied, feeling a sensation like no other. The sensation rushed through her veins, fuelling the dying fire and bringing it back to life. She'd never kissed someone like this before and she wanted to do it again and again, but only with John Murphy. No one else could recreate what they shared.

Their mouths moved against one another in sweet symphonies until Althea lifted hers from his, out of breath and with swollen lips. Foreheads resting together as they regained their breath and smiled at one another as if they needed no other.

"I didn't know you had that in you," Murphy remarks with a laugh.

Althea grins, sitting up and looking down at him. "There's a lot you still don't know about me."

He places his hands on her waist, smoothing his thumbs across the skin beneath her top. "We've got all the time in the world, Thea," He tells her and, with the grin still residing upon her content expression, she leans down to reconnect their lips once more.

She never wanted it to end and neither did he.

-

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