Rosie awoke the next morning to a wave crashing into her feet, leaving them soaked. That was the first thing she noticed, the next being the scorching heat and the fact that the sun was most definitely burning her pale skin. The final thing she noticed? She was still in Murphy's arms from the night before, if anything his grip around her had tightened.

Rosie shot up from her position on his chest, waking and startling him in the process. He tried hoisting himself into a sitting position, but his injured arm was useless and his good arm was asleep from Rosie's laying on it all night. He let his head fall back into the sand with a sigh, before fixing his eyes on the red-headed girl.

"What was that all about?" 

"I, uh..." She paused, trying to find the words. "I need to check your wound."

She crawled over the boy so that she was sitting on the same side as his wounded arm, then got to work on undoing the bandages. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she kept her eyes fixed on his arm, so as to avoid his eyes that were fixed on her. They were both thinking the same thing; what was last night? Rosie wondered why he did it, and what it meant to him. She decided on it being completely platonic, just something to do to keep them both calm. She figured, why would it be anything more? In Murphy's mind, he had started to fear that she was regretting it and that she didn't want it to mean anything. His mind raced at the realization that every lingering touch or drawn out gaze they'd held, had been initiated by him. He thought 'perhaps they really were just friends?'

"The bleeding stopped, and it doesn't look infected... We need to keep it wrapped up." Rosie spoke, beginning to rewrap his wound. 

Murphy didn't answer, instead granting her a weak nod as she got to work. He found himself feeling hurt and he wasn't sure why. It's not like he really liked her, he was just lonely, right? Why should it matter if she rejected him? Even he knew he couldn't convince himself of that lie, but he tried to suppress the truth regardless. He then had to remind himself that she was locked up, in solitary, when she was 12. She had no experience whatsoever with emotional maturity and relationships. The realization granted him a glimmer of hope that he decided to hold on to.

"We should get walking." Murphy decides, using his now useful again good arm to help himself into a sitting position.

Rosie nodded her head before standing and helping the boy up. Murphy chose a random direction and decided to follow it, then they both trudged on in silence. Though their eyes were trained in front of them, both of their thoughts remained on the person next to them. It was so strange, that both of their minds could be racing with thoughts about the other, but neither would ever know.

Rosie was distracted from her thoughts by her almost tripping. She regained her balance almost immediately, more embarrassed than hurt. She looked down at where she had nearly fallen and brushed the leaves and debris from the area. Lying there was another one of those solar panels. She scanned the area, realizing there were multiple of them. Murphy seemed to have noticed too, because he was brushing away another one. As they both stood back from their panels and beams of sun hit them, loud music began to play. Rosie's eyes shot towards Murphy, who glanced at her before starting in the direction of the sound.

Rosie reluctantly followed the boy, halting when they came across what looked to be a door. Behind it, seemed to be the source of the music. With his good arm, Murphy banged hard against it. When there was no answer, he used his fingers to pull apart a crack in the doors. Luckily, it came open. As both cautiously entered, lights flickered on and the music became more audible.

Murphy rounded down the steps before them, always positioned in front of Rosie. He was on alert, but seemed to ease as the room came into view. His protective stance fell, with shoulders slumping back and a look of shock growing on his face. Due to his height, Rosie couldn't see into the room, just parts of his reaction to it.

"What? What is it, what do you see?" She hissed, trying to stand on her tiptoes and peek over his shoulder.

Murphy stepped further into the room, allowing Rosie to see it fully. She gaped at the room before her, never seeing anything so nice in her entire life. As she followed him in, she looked around cautiously, shocked by the sight of motorcycles and racks of alcohol. Her eyes were then drawn to bags of food; and lots of them. Murphy turned to her with a grin.

"Promised land."

They both made their way to the kitchen area and immediately tore into two bags of the food. They were just simple crackers, but biting into them tasted like heaven for some reason. Murphy shoved a large piece into his mouth, before nearly moaning at the taste. He then eyed a bottle of a dark brown liquid accompanied by two glasses. He gave Rosie a devilish grin before pouring them each one.

"What is it?" Rosie questioned, her nose scrunching up at the sight.

"No clue," He replied. "Scotch maybe? Whiskey?"

Rosie wanted to reject his offer of alcohol, then figured, what the hell? They finally were inside somewhere, they finally had food, they finally could lie down on something that wasn't the ground. That deserved a celebration. The two took their unknown alcohol and crackers to the couch and sat down. Rosie got comfortable, something she hadn't been able to do in what felt like forever, before taking a sip of the bitter liquid. It made her throat burn, but she didn't complain. 

Murphy picked up a remote and clicked one of the buttons, effectively shutting off the music but clicking on the tv. A video camera also clicked to life, and Rosie realized it was plugged into the tv. Murphy and her made nervous eye contact and sat their crackers down. The man on the tv seemed to be sitting in the bunker they were in, recording himself. The date in the corner read "5/10/2052" and as the man on the screen sobbed about trying to stop 'her,' Rosie grew uneasy.

"John..." She started, but he was entranced in the video.

The man then reached down and revealed a revolver, causing Rosie to tense up completely. She didn't like where the video was going, and was even more distraught that it seemed to be filmed where they were sitting.

"I don't like this," She voiced her worries, reaching for the remote from Murphy.

"Just wait," Murphy commanded, holding the remote out of reach. He didn't even bother looking over at her, instead, his eyes were glued on the screen.

When the man shot himself, Rosie screamed and tried to shield her eyes. Murphy quickly pulled the girl into his chest, a hand covering her eyes, but the damage was already done. She had seen the moment that man killed himself. Guilt flooded over the boy as he realized he should've just turned it off when she asked. Moments later, Rosie freed herself from his grip, unable to stay seated there any longer. She made a beeline for the exit, only for it to slam shut right in her face. She pounded on the door, John hot on her heels to help, but to no avail

"Containment door sealed," a feminine voice echoed throughout the bunker.

Rosie pounded and sobbed simultaneously until she fell to her knees on the ground and rested her head against the door. She hadn't wanted to see that man die, she hadn't wanted to watch the video at all. And now, she was back exactly how she was for the past 5 years; locked up. The thought made her skin crawl, because she had hated being trapped in small spaces ever since.

"Hey, hey," John spoke softly, squatting down next to the girl. He too was terrified by the door not opening, but his need to keep her calm outweighed that.

"Chris! Where are you, man?" A male voice alerted the two, causing them to immediately fly back down the stairs. To both of their dismay, it was just the video.

Murphy went to the remote and clicked it off, knowing Rosie wouldn't want to watch anymore, especially with the dead man on the screen. Rosie curled up in a ball on the couch, pulling her knees into her chest as she sobbed. She was trapped again. She would die down here.

Murphy went back to work on the door, grabbing various objects from the bunker to try and get out. The pounds echoed throughout the place, along with his screams, causing Rosie to shake and cry more. She thought back to the one lesson she should have learned from this trek; anything that can go wrong, will.

Eventually, when Murphy tired himself out, he slowly stalked back down the stairs. There, curled up in the corner, sat Rosie, still crying. His anger and frustration melted away almost immediately as he went and sat down next to her. She recoiled from his touch, sending an immediate pain to his heart.

"Hey, hey, we're going to be okay. I promise."

"You can't promise that," She lifted her head to look at the boy. Her face was red and tear stained, mouth quivering as she spoke.

"I mean, no, I can't..." He started, only to be cut off by her.

"Then don't make promises you can't keep." Her head went back to her knees, hugging them tightly into her body.

Murphy sighed and looked away. Her reaction to the shooting had confused him, considering the fact that she was the known youngest murderer on the ark. For her to kill two grown men in cold blood, it would be assumed she could handle one guy shooting himself, but it had sent her into hysterics. Something about it wasn't adding up. As her body shook, he was brought back to the present and on trying to calm her down.

"We have food and drinks to last us a while if we ration them," He started, grabbing their crackers from earlier and placing them together. "And, I can promise, I would die before I let anything happen to you."

The sincerity behind the words is what drew her attention first. She again pulled her head up and searched the man's face. There was no hint of joking, but it seemed as though what he said, he really meant.

"Why?" She uttered, barely louder than a whisper.

"What?" He questioned, unsure if he heard her.

"Why would you die for me?"

"Because you're worth it. A cockroach in exchange for an angel? Seems like a pretty good deal to me." His serious face had turned into a grin, signifying he was joking.

This brought a small smile to Rosie's face, which was all Murphy really wanted. He wrapped an arm around the girl, thankful that this time she didn't recoil. He knew it would be hard, but he also knew that everything that had happened in their lives had made them both survivors. If anyone could do it, it was them. They would ration and come up with a plan for getting out, together.

Rosie rested her head against the boy's shoulder, face still hot from all of the crying. It was strange to her, that even when she felt this trapped and as if the entire world were falling down, he was able to calm her down. Even Bellamy had trouble doing so, it usually took hours for him to be able to reach her. But here was John Murphy, this 'heartless', murdering, self-proclaimed cockroach, calming her in mere moments. Perhaps, being locked in a bunker with him of all people, wasn't so bad.

A/N: Ah! Finally in the bunker! Murphy and Rosie are the purest best couple and no one can change my mind. Also, I know I changed them turning the video off, but I truly think Rosie would not have been able to handle it. The rest of the video will come up later. Anyways, please give me your guys thoughts, vote, all that. I love all the support this story is getting & I love all of you, thank you :')