AUTHOR'S NOTE:

just a heads up that harley's there helping abby and murphy with ontari's open heart grossness so like... if that makes you uncomfortable (cause it's gross even i wanted to throw up writing it) you can definitely skip it/skim it. plus, this is the last chapter of s3 before s4 starts!!

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Murphy was right. He wasn't going to like this. But neither did Harley. She was unsettled as she observed Abby pressing the tip of the scalpel to Ontari's collarbone, before dragging it downward and cutting a perfectly straight line down the middle of her chest. Blood appears, and the sight of Abby digging into Ontari's chest is more than Harley can handle. She takes a step back, collecting herself as Murphy backed away as well to check on Clarke. The blonde in the throne was still seizing, but the jolts becoming violent, along with the sound of choking on her white foam.

"Abby, you need to move faster, okay?!" Murphy urged her.

Hands drenched in Ontari's blood, Abby gestured to Harley who had turned from the scene. "Harley, I need the metal contraption in my bag," she ordered. Dizzy, but complying, Harley nodded before rushing to grab the doctor's bag and dig inside of it until she comes across a large sized medical appliance.

As the object is handed to Abby, she spreads the separate parts of Ontari's chest. Harley gags, her hand flying up to slap over her mouth as the contraption is put into place, locked in the commander's chest to keep it wide open and allow access to her heart. Harley's never seen a heart in her life, but she watched in both horror and disgust as Abby reached into her open stomach and grasped the organ, giving it a squeeze.

It worked. The blood that was slowing to a stop sped up, soaring through the tube and back into Clarke. Her seizing ceases in seconds before stopping, and she's still in her sleep once more, alive. "Get over here," Abby called to Murphy, continuing to give the heart a few constant squeezes. "Harley's about to get sick. I need you to pump her heart."

"What?" Murphy asked incredulously. "Are you crazy? I'm not going to pump her heart!"

Harley took a deep breath, hearing Abby shout to Murphy in demand and brushed her hair back to keep herself cool. "It's okay," she spoke up, her voice wavering. "It'll help Clarke. I can do it." She tried sounding confident, and despite coming off unsteady, Abby knew there wasn't no room for argument.

"Okay. Right under here," Abby directed her. Harley inhales, approaching her side again and reaching her hands into the open space to take her place. Her mouth falls open in revulsion as they come into contact with the organ, hands shaking, but Abby places them in a cupping motion until they're steady enough to grasp. "It's okay," Abby encouraged soothingly, noticing the green look crossing on Harley's face. "You're doing great."

"Oh my god." Is the only words Harley can make out as she squeezes the heart. Her stomach is churning and she has to swallow the bile creeping up her throat. "Oh my god, this sucks," she whispered, knowing that nothing disgusting enough could beat this. Harley's endless sweat, skin with blood and dirt, knotted hair and having not changed clothes in a month or two couldn't compare to squeezing a heart inside an open chest.

"Are you alright?" Abby checked as she pulled her own hands out, needing to know if this was an action Harley could continue.

Harley nodded despite every instinct telling her to stop. "Yeah - Yeah, I, I can," she stammered unconvincingly. Tight lipped, Abby nodded, giving her one last pat before dashing to check on her daughter and speak encouraging words to her.

As Abby leaves, Murphy takes over the open spot beside Harley, looking everywhere but Ontari's open chest. That is, until he noticed both Harley's hands and arms shaking, as if she was close to falling unconscious any second. "Harley, are you sure about this?" He questioned, settling a hand on her shoulder.

"Am I?!" Harley finally exclaimed breathlessly, growing more anxious. "I don't know - I have my hands in someone's chest and I'm squeezing their heart!"

"Okay, okay!" Murphy spoke over her before sighing to himself. He took a deep breath same as she had before his hands trailed downward, gripping Harley's wrists and holding them steady. He made a noise of disgust, but grew used to it when realizing she was relaxing with his help, and able to squeeze the heart much easier.

From where she was crouched in front of Clarke, Abby quickly informed them in a call. "Keep it up," she motivated them. "She's stabilizing."

"You know," Murphy spoke up, still sounding sick, but desperately wanting to discuss absolutely anything but the fact that they both were squeezing an organ. "What better bonding situation for siblings could you think of?"

A small snort came from Harley, along with a faint smile as she continued the compressions. "Uh, how about anything else?" She suggested weakly.

"I'm sorry." The two words coming from Murphy had Harley's head snapping up, almost stopping the actions, but a tighter grip from him reminded her to keep going. "You want to talk about anything else than this? I'm sorry, okay?" Murphy apologized, more sincerely than the first time. "You are worth more than a note to me. I should have said good-bye."

A soft look grows on Harley's features. She hadn't expected the day to come for Murphy to genuinely apologize, especially to her. "You don't know what it was like," she mumbled thinly to him with another squeeze tighter than she meant to the organ, reminding herself to be more gentle with the fragile part. "For me, to not see you for three months, wondering..."

While Harley's words faded, the doors to the door room had suddenly slammed open. Harley jumped at the noise, feeling like she almost ripped the organ out of Ontari's chest before calming when hearing her friends. They were mumbling in shock at the sight of the pair with a heart out in the open, but came to the realization it wasn't important as Bellamy started making orders.

"They're in," he announced. "The throne room's the last room we have, but it won't be for long. We need to keep those doors shut!" Everyone began moving, and Harley could hear furniture scrape and being thrown with thuds against the shut doors to buy Clarke time.

"What was it like?" Murphy asked after a large crash in reference to their earlier conversation. "I mean, I don't know, just didn't assume..."

Harley picked her head up to meet his blue eyes, not stopping the actions. "What? That I didn't look for you?" She finished softly. "I did. I needed answers." She wished more than anything she could hug him now, or give some type of touch that could bring them closer, especially after his sincere apology. "John, I love you." Murphy's head was the one to shoot up at that. Maybe it wasn't the best place to say so, but there was no time like now.

"I didn't knew what drew me in to help you, when you set the guard's office on fire," Harley continued. "But I get it now. You're my brother, and I love you, so much, that when I knew the grounder was going to... To strangle you to death, I had to stop him. I killed him because I love you. There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe."

Maybe there was the chance Murphy wouldn't believe Harley. He's never had anyone in his life other than his father love him, or would take someone's life to save his. But Harley could see the way his expression changed, into one that would match hers when she believed the truth and was touched. Harley wasn't angry or sour anymore about being abandoned, knowing all along she had understood why Murphy really left, only wasn't fond of the fact she fit in and he didn't. But she forgave him at the same time they squeezed the heart between them together.

"This is it!" Bellamy suddenly declared, snapping the twins out of their daze. The furniture had stopped being thrown around, and everyone else was cocking weapons in preparation. The pieces were starting to shake and topple from the chipped people slamming on the doors. "Keep Clarke safe, give her time! They're unarmed and they won't feel pain. They won't stop until they're out cold," he reminded everyone.

"Copy that," Miller agreed with a nod. "Go for the knockout."

A pistol is loaded by Abby as she stands in front of Clarke, who gave Bellamy a hesitant smile when he stared at her in question. "Only if they get past you." He nods back in understanding.

Harley keeps her back to the doors, reminding herself to keep pumping the heart, even when she hears the pieces of furniture start to tumble. The pounding continues to increase, becoming louder, until suddenly, the doors fly open. Shouting fills the once silent and calm air, along with the noise of weapons meeting weapons and skin meeting skin. Harley forced herself although she hated it to keep her stare locked firmly on the heart in front of her, clenching her jaw tightly, refusing to stop until this would be over.

"Keep still," Murphy mumbled to Harley over the sound of fighting. "Don't stop."

"I...I'm not," Harley replied, clearing her throat along with another tight squeeze. Her mind was whirring, and she was growing desperate, only wanting for this to be done.

The grip on Harley's wrists from Murphy tightened as he turned his head in time to see Abby shoot down a man attempting to push past her. Harley kept her back to the war, refusing to turn and do anything except pump the organ until Clarke woke up. "Clarke, c'mon!" Murphy exclaimed in frustration. "We can't hold them off!"

He's right. They can't. Harley doesn't have to turn to know they're losing. It's only them against an entire army of people who felt nothing, no pain emotionally or physically, and only wanting one thing: to stop Clarke before she could stop ALIE. Tears prick in Harley's eyes as the sick feeling fades, replaced with hope and misery all at once. She tears her gaze away from the open chest to look towards Clarke tearfully.

"Clarke," Harley whispered. "Please."

Nothing happens in the first few seconds, but then, everything falls either together or apart at once. A single man wails in agony, one who sounds very much like Jaha. A female joined him, her sobs more high pitched. Harley freezes at the sound, listening closely as the fighting stops altogether with more cries and screams being pitched in. For the first time, Harley is glad to hear the noise of people in unbearable pain. It means they felt something, and that Clarke finally did it. She lets out a choked gasp of relief as a few tears slide down her cheeks.

Clarke is the one to move next, her body jolting before awaking on the throne. Her eyelids flutter a few times, adjusting as her mother crouched in front of her. "You did it," Abby whispered. Clarke keeps still, her jaw clenching as she nods slowly without a word.

"Little help here," Murphy called to them, reminding the Griffin's he and his sister were holding an actual heart still.

"We need to remove the Flame," Clarke responded. She leaned forward, mumbling words Harley couldn't understand as Abby peered at the back of her neck, retrieving the Flame that popped out on command. Harley heaves a deep breath, immediately releasing the organ and pulling her hands out of the chest. They're soaked with Ontari's black blood, staining them for who would know how long.

Tearing her gaze away from her stained hands, Harley's eyes meet Clarke's, who stared at both her and Murphy with gratefulness for keeping her alive. "Thank you," she says softly.

Harley nodded back with a smile, while Murphy shrugged loosely with a timid grin. "It's just another day on the ground, right?"

"Yeah," Harley agrees in a mumble, despite the statement being directed at Clarke. "But this time with you." She reached up, throwing her arms over his shoulders and embracing him tightly. She was sure her hands were staining his shirt, as were his to her jacket, but she didn't care. Murphy was alive, and Harley forgave him. The war was finally over.

"John..." A female voice gasped from a distance away. Harley pulled away from the hug, turning her head to see what had to be a female grounder. She wasn't looking at Harley, only Murphy, with tears in her eyes. Harley's surprised to see he made a friend, a grounder of all people, but she put the pieces together quickly. This was the person he spent time in the woods with.

But Murphy was hesitating, sparing a glance to Harley, who only shook her head. "Go," she ordered, gently shoving his shoulder. Murphy sent her one last smile before taking off, dashing straight for the other and hugging her tightly. Harley's smile widens at the sight, her head filling with unanswered questions, but glad to see he was happy as he assured her in gentle words everything was okay.

Turning her head, Harley meets the sight of Bellamy helping a now free Clarke out of the throne. But there was a look of distress on Clarke's face, that Harley couldn't help but recognize. She was scanning the throne room sadly, not reacting the way Harley had hoped. It was the same expression she had hours before the missiles hit Tondc. The wide smile she had disappears as she overhears them speak to one another.

"You're not acting like someone who just saved the world," Bellamy tells Clarke, his forehead creased and voice rough. He was covered in dry blood and had bruised markings around his throat, yet gazed at Clarke with concern.

"Because we didn't," Clarke said in answer to his silent question as to why. She ignored her own dry blood and injuries as she continued brokingly, tears welling in her eyes. "Not yet."

Harley wants to interrupt them, interrogate Clarke and want to know what she means. That they didn't survive another war just for it to happen again as a never ending cycle, because this had to be it. Nobody else would have to die anymore. They were at peace, and the rest, they should have to figure out later. The world owes them such, but Harley's words of question are stuck in her throat.

All of a sudden, the obscene sound of flesh being pierced fills Harley's ears like it was the only sound she could hear. She whirls at the noise, desperate to know who it was, but comes to a state of astonishment at the sight of Octavia Blake's sword dug in Pike's chest. Her jaw drops, not by the view of him dying, but at the dark and cold prominent look in Octavia's face. Harley watched as she rips it out and he falls to the ground, gasping a few times, before stilling.

Sheathing her sword once more, Octavia doesn't spare a look to anyone. Not even Harley. Pike outlived his usefulness, and she avenged Lincoln. It was over for Octavia. She instead strided straight for the open doors, refusing to look back with no remorse for what she had done.

Harley knew for sure now that Octavia, the girl who kept her heart beating fast, had changed; a switch inside her that when flipped would turn her into a gravely dark warrior.

Everything had changed.

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END OF PART THREE.