A little over three weeks had passed since Rosie's walls had finally tumbled down. Her revelation had brought her and John closer than ever before, because he was the first person she trusted enough to tell. It felt as though the two understood each other in a way that no one else did, and the thought was comforting to her. It was also terrifying, because for the first time in a long time, aside from Bellamy, she had something to lose.

Lately, Rosie had been thinking about Bellamy a lot. She recognized that if it weren't for him, she would most likely be a completely different person. She'd be hardened from the awful experiences she went through and the solitary confinement that followed it. Perhaps she'd be as crazy as everyone assumed she was. But, thanks to Bellamy, she was able to learn what it was like to have someone care about you, and how to care about them back. 

The downfall of being so close to Bellamy was that she had adopted the same "all or nothing" personality when it came to those she cared about. The same way that Bellamy risked his life getting on the dropship just to be with Octavia and Rosie, Rosie had come to associate love with risks. That was why, now, more than three weeks later, Rosie was taking a huge risk for Murphy. She had hardly eaten, rationing the food in a way that would ensure he could have more.

It wasn't that Rosie wanted to die down there, but if one of them had to, she wanted to ensure that it was her. She felt that he deserved the best chance possible to maybe make it out of there, even if she never could. Of course, she had to be discreet about it, because Murphy would kill her if he found out. She would nibble on the same bit of food for days, just in front of him, so he wouldn't be suspicious.

Although she felt weak and her head constantly felt like it was spinning, she did her best to act normal. A voice in the back of her head kept telling her that she had pushed through worse, plus Murphy's constant optimism and games, kept her going. She had to, at least until she knew Murphy had a solid plan for escaping. If he didn't, and something were to happen to her, he would just stay there, crushed, and it would all be in vain.

Now, Rosie laid on the couch, watching Murphy clean around her. Her eyes kept slowly closing as she found that she seemed to be more tired than usual lately. Every couple seconds she'd catch Murphy eyeing her, which would cause her to shoot him a reassuring grin. He would smile back and continue on with his work, until the fear would return again.

"Did you not sleep well last night?" He questioned, finally done picking up around the bunker. He took a seat at the foot of the couch, clasping a hand down on her ankle as he did so.

"Yeah, I guess I've been a little restless," Rosie lied, adding a yawn for emphasis.

"Well, if you nap now you won't be able to sleep later," John pointed out, slowly rubbing up and down her calf.

Rosie simply shrugged as her eyes lulled shut again. She was shocked at how much her energy had become depleted. She then began to wonder if the copious amounts of alcohol they were drinking every night were making it worse. She made a mental note to cut back.

"Come on, let's do something," John stated, reaching up and grabbing her hand in the process. A groan escaped Rosie's lips as he tugged her up.

"John," She whined, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. The light above them seemed much brighter than she remembered, and she found herself squinting up at the now standing boy.

"I'm not letting you turn lazy on me," He smiled as he pulled her up quickly. 

As soon as she was on her feet, spots began to dance in her field of vision. She tried blinking them away, or sitting back down, but John's hand in hers kept her planted on her feet. Her breathing began to pick up as more spots seemed to grow, making it impossible to see. She thought she heard John's voice, but it was drowned out by a loud ringing in her eyes. Suddenly, the dots were gone and so was the ringing. Everything was gone, everything was dark. 

❀

Rosie wasn't expecting to wake up. It wasn't like she woke up that morning thinking 'this is it, this is the day I'm going to die.' No one ever thinks that, right? But when she stood, and then everything seemed to fall away, something inside of her told her that was it. It was her time to go, and she hadn't even had time to prepare John. Her last thoughts were filled with Murphy, Bellamy, and her dad, as she hoped they all knew how much she loved them.

Then, she did wake up.

The bright light that shined into her eyes as they fluttered open made her think she had gone to heaven. Which surprised her, because she had long decided there probably wasn't a heaven, at least not with the way her life had gone. As she blinked a few times, John came into view and she realized she was still down in the bunker.

"Oh thank god, you're awake," John spoke, brushing a hair out of her face as he spoke to her.

Rosie went to sit up, causing John to stop her and make her take things slow. He helped her sit up and let her rest her back against the arm of the chair. Then, he retrieved a cup of water from the table and slowly brought it to her lips, helping her to drink. She studied his face as he pulled the cup back, noticing how blotchy and streaked it look. She found herself wondering if he had been crying, then was immediately filled with guilt.

John seemed to notice the way the girl was eyeing him, which caused him to look away. When he glanced back, he was biting down on his bottom lip. He looked at her as if he had something to say, but didn't quite know how to do it. A small, weak smile grew on Rosie's face as she looked at him.

"What?" She croaked out, not realizing how dry her throat was. He grabbed the cup and gave it to her again before sighing.

"Why'd you do it?" The question came out quietly and Murphy seemed as though he couldn't make eye contact when he asked it.

"Do what?" Rosie knit her eyebrows together as she tried processing the question.

"I know, Rose," Murphy gave her an exasperated look before trying to regain his calm expression. "I found the bags of food hidden. You haven't been eating your rations. Why?"

Rosie felt her face growing hot as she forced herself to sit up more and stared down at her lap. Her head was pounding and although she didn't want to have this conversation at the moment, she knew some part of her owed it to him.

"I wanted you to have more," Her voice was weak, and she wasn't sure if it was because of her nerves or because she needed more water, but probably a mix of both.

"Why?" Murphy looked to her, his voice laced with a growing wave of anger.

"You deserve to make it out of here, John," Rosie forced herself to look up at the boy, eyes brimming with tears.

"So do you!" He argued, the anger rising. "You deserve it so much more than I do, Rosie!"

"That's not true," She shook her head, the tears that had been threatening to spill finally falling out.

The sight of her crying seemed to force John to make himself calm down. His mouth fell slightly agape at the sight, not expecting her to respond like this. He gently reached out and wiped the stray tears away with his thumb. After doing so, he bit down on his lip and looked away as he chose his next words.

"You could've died," He forced himself to look back at her. 

"I know," She admitted.

"You're good, Rosie, too good, and you don't even realize it," He paused, eyes tracing her face. "I've had way too many good people die for me, and I promise you I'm not worth it,"

"But you are," Rosie argued. "You've had people tell you that you're the bad guy for so long that you've started to believe it, but it's not true."

"It is true," Murphy nodded, tears beginning to form in his eyes now. "If you would have died for me, I never would have forgiven myself. If either of us deserves to make it out of here, it's you."

Murphy took both of her hands in his as he held back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He was always so quick to turn to anger, and the thought of her dying for him did make him angry. He was mainly angry at himself, though, for not realizing sooner, and for not being good enough for someone like her.

"If you died down here, I'm not sure what I would do," Murphy spoke truthfully.

"I'm sorry," Rosie apologized. She was really only sorry for what her actions had put him through. "But, if I'm being honest, I'd do it again. Every time."

Murphy studied the girl's face and knew she meant what she said. Although for a long time he had forced himself to ignore the feelings he had for her, at this moment, he no longer could. She was fierce, and honest, and most of all, she understood him and what it was like to be misunderstood. But, at the end of the day, he knew she was so much stronger than him and had much better intentions. He simply would never be good enough.

"Next time, sacrifice yourself for someone who deserves it," John sighed and pulled the girl into him. He was more gentle with her now, as if he could somehow break her. He looked down and placed a kiss on her forehead before standing and walking to the kitchen.

Rosie's forehead tingled from where his lips had met her skin. She had known for weeks the feelings she held for him, and the action he just took made her heart skip a beat. Despite being upset he had found out and still feeling weak, she couldn't help but smile to herself as her fingers brushed the place he had kissed her.

"Here," Murphy spoke when he returned. In his hand was a bag of food that he held out expectantly. "From now on, I'm handling rations, and I'm watching you eat yours."

Rosie sighed and accepted the bag. She tore it open and ate its contents slowly, not wanting to scarf them down and make herself sick. Murphy watched her with crossed arms as she ate. When she finished, he stuck out his hand to take her trash, but instead, she slowly tried to stand.

"What're you doing?" He questioned, rushing quickly to her and looping an arm around her waist to help her stand.

"If you're doing rations now, then I'm on cleaning," She argued.

"I can handle both until you get your strength back," Murphy helped lower her back down on the couch and took the empty bag of rations from her hand.

"I hate feeling useless," Rosie sighed.

Murphy began to walk away to dispose of the trash. He glanced back over his shoulder and thought over her words, realizing how much they resonated with him as well. But, to him, Rosie wasn't useless. She was what kept him going on this trip, and down in the bunker. To him, Rosie was what was keeping him alive.

"You'll never be useless, Goldsman," And she would never know how much he meant that.

A/N: ah!!! This story has hit 5K reads! That's insane! Sorry it's been so long since my last update. But things are finally starting to speed up with bbs Murphy and Rosie!! I hope you enjoyed!