#alvin murphy

[shipshinablog]

[yougrew-upunacave]

I made two versions one with the s1 group

And one with the season 4 group.

[verifiedgoddess-afterhours]

Do you get deja vu? (murphy x fem!reader) part 2 of this request!

(wc: 3.6k)

⌞ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ... (y/n) accompanies Murphy on a supply run, as a result of George's matchmaking and ulterior motives⌝

--Altura, present day

"George, please tell me you aren't serious."

Her friend shrugged, but (y/n) could plainly see the mischievous edge to her mouth. She would bet anything that her and Warren had conspired together to plan this.

"Sorry, I'm as serious as a heart attack."

(y/n) groaned and put her head into her hands, bracing her elbows on her knees. "This is unjust."

"Actually," George held up a finger "since I run Newmerica-"

(y/n) raised her head to shoot her friend a playful glare. George had noticed, in the few weeks since Murphy and his crew had joined them, her glares hadn't seemed as harsh.

She'd begun to smile more, but George didn't say anything because she was worried that (y/n) would stop.

"Yeah, yeah," her friend drawled. "you're the boss, whatever. But are you sure I have to go with him?" George nodded seriously.

"I wish I could keep you here, but Murphy needs very specific equipment to finish this, and he won't be able to do it without you."

Her words rang in (y/n)'s head. Murphy needed her... to help synthesize the cure. But that was it.

Right?

"What about whats-his-face?" She inquired. George only gave her a confused look in response.

(y/n) groaned. "The one who lost his hand? It's... T... something?" George's face lit up with recognition.

"Ten Thousand?"

(y/n) nodded. "Yeah, he's the one who killed all those zombies, right? Why don't you send him? He's also travelled with Murphy before."

George pursed her lips. "You don't know?"

The woman frowned, leaning back in her seat. "I don't know what?"

"His girlfriend, Red, she's pregnant."

She couldn't stop her jaw from dropping. "Seriously? That was fast." George laughed, the sound warm and welcoming. It was lovely, really.

"No shit. Newmerica's first baby. Technicially."

"So, he can't leave. It's too risky, especially with a baby on the way."

"Exactly," her friend nodded seriously. "That's why I need you to go."

She stood up and nodded, knowing that this was her job as George's second-in-command. "I hear you. I'll make sure it gets done. Listen for me on the radio."

George sported a crooked grin as she lifted two fingers to her brow in a salute. "Good luck, (y/n)."

The ex-prison guard shot her a salute back, shaking her head as she left her friend's office. This was going to be a long road trip.

She tapped her left foot impatiently as she leaned against the truck, waiting for the man she was supposed to accompany on this supply run. The sun had risen not long ago, and they were supposed to leave at dawn.

Well, at least that about Murphy hadn't changed. He still ran by his own clock, not giving a shit about what anybody else had going on.

When his figure finally became visible, the ex-prison guard lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. She made a show of checking her digital watch before glaring at him.

"How thoughtful of you to finally grace me with your presence," Her sarcasm was obvious, but he simply gave her a smile.

"Well, good morning to you too, sunshine." His voice was light, almost cheerful. Like he thought it really was a good morning. The corner of her mouth was tempted to lift into a smile, but she tamped it down.

The woman wasn't stupid, she wasn't letting

She pointed at the back of the truck, where their supplies were located. "Bag goes in there. I'm driving."

He frowned, but she was already hopping into the driver's seat. She hadn't survived this many years in a zombie-infested world to die because of his horrible driving. She trusted herself, and George.

And that was it.

After throwing his bag in the back of the vehicle, Murphy slid gracefully into the passenger seat beside her.

"Whose wasting daylight now?" He challenged, giving her a pointed look. She glared at him before pointing down at his seatbelt buckle.

"Seatbelt."

"Seriously?"

"Do you want to make the cure or not?"

He scrunched his nose up in annoyance before quickly buckling himself into his seat.

"There," he waved his hands, showing her his buckled seatbelt with a flourish. "Happy?" She gave him a sickeningly sweet smile before hitting the gas.

"Yep."

--Somewhere in Montana

(y/n) lifted her hands over her head and leaned to the left, stretching her sore muscles. They'd been driving for two days, with only a few hour long breaks so she could nap, before they hit the road again.

The sun was slowly inching towards the horizon, so she had chosen to stop for the night and set up camp so they could both get some proper rest.

And Murphy?

Well, he never made anything easy. And he sure as hell wasn't making this easy on her. Which definitely didn't help her feel any better either.

"How far to this place, anyway?" She asked him, as they both sat around the embers of a slowly-dying fire. The woody crackled weakly, leaving the smell of smoke lingering in the woman's hair and clothes.

He tossed her the paper map they'd brought along with them, grumbling. "See for yourself."

(y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling deeply. She would not throw the map back at him like a child. She would handle this like the responsible adult she was.

So, naturally, she stuck her tongue out at him when he wasn't looking, adulthood be damned. As he munched on the MREs they had brought, she studied their destination on the road map.

"How did you guys make it to Spokane, anyway?" (y/n) questioned with a raised eyebrow. She and Warren had chatted briefly about their misadventures that led them across the state, but the ex-guard wasn't given many juicy details.

"Let's just say," he sighed heavily, dark eyes piercing the ground in front of his feet. "Warren's one lucky bitch."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Warren's the lucky one? I think you're the lucky one."

He huffed a quiet chuckle before settling his eyes on her. "Is that right?"

"You have someone who cares about you like she does, so absolutely. You're the lucky one, not her. Especially since she got stuck with your sorry ass."

He shook his head, grinning at her. "My, my, the apocalypse has changed you."

She stiffened. "I guess that's what happens when the world ends. People change."

"Amen."

The following morning, after a fitful sleep, the duo set off again. (y/n) yawned behind the wheel, having barely slept the night before. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt his eyes on her.

But every time she'd opened them, he was sleeping soundly on the other side of their campfire.

At least, that's what it had looked like.

In reality, Murphy was watching her. Trying to figure out what it was about her that gave him hope. Such a foreign thing, really. Hope was something he gave up on the second Dr. Merch had let those monsters bite him.

All those years ago, hope had abandoned him. And he'd lived without it since.

But seeing her again, the woman who used to pretend his winks didn't fluster her as the iron bars of his cell separated them, stirred something in him. The stupid glimmer of hope had settled in his belly, fluttering its wings whenever she looked at him.

All this time, everyone he had known never really cared about him. They just cared about what was in his damn blood. He was their best shot at a cure for the Z virus, and nothing more.

Except for her.

She was the only one who'd known him before, who pretended not to care whether or not he lived or died. Even back at that hellhole of a prison, however, Murphy knew she cared.

She thought she was better at pretending than she really was.

"Should you really be driving?" He asked apprehensively, his red face wary. She tried to glare at him, but the horrible sleeps were catching up to her.

"Should you really be commenting on my capabilities?"

He sighed and got out of the vehicle, before walking around the hood and opening the driver's door.

"Come on, hop out."

She raised her eyebrows. "Who died and made you the boss?"

The man scoffed. "Sweetheart, if you want us to survive this trip, I suggest you let me drive. I didn't survive this long to die because you fell asleep at the wheel."

She mustered up the energy to roll her eyes. "Yeah, right. Like we're any safer with you behind the wheel."

"(y/n)," he spoke her name seriously. "get out of the damn truck." Reluctantly, she undid her seatbelt and listened to him. Her ass had barely hit the passenger seat before she was sleeping, the gentle sound of the road acting like a lullaby.

It was nice, having a break from Murphy's incessant presence and the anxiety she'd been riddled with since they'd taken off on this run together.

-- Spokane, Washington

Murphy awoke her with a gentle shake of her shoulder. The now-awake woman blinked her eyes open groggily, taking in the scenery around them with a yawn.

"Are we there," she asked, sitting up straighter in her seat. Murphy parked the vehicle in front of a large brick building, surrounded by fencing and the remnants of a large camp.

"We're here." His voice was grim, and he stared past her to look at the building. It had a weird feeling to it, something dark and a little dangerous.

Just like Murphy himself.

She undid her holster and grabbed her pistol before opening her door. When he didn't move, she gave him an expectant look.

"You coming?"

He shook his head a little before his gaze shifted to her. "What?"

"Aren't you coming?"

The man nodded quickly, and she narrowed her eyes at the odd movement. Was he... scared?

Well, well, well.

The all-powerful Murphy did have fears, after all.

The thought would have delighted her, if not for the work they had to do. Which- judging by the state of the building - was not going to be as easy as George had told them.

Her boots hit the asphalt as she hopped out of the truck, scanning their surroundings. Not a soul in sight, although that wasn't surprising. Following the black rain a few years ago, the apocalypse had been...different.

Weirder than usual.

They approached the building, only to discover the front doors were blocked from the inside with debris. (y/n) sighed as Murphy tried - and failed - to heave the door open with his shoulder, grunting.

"Why is nothing ever easy?"

"This is the apocalypse, sweetheart," Murphy muttered, looking around them anxiously. "It's not supposed to be easy." She huffed a breath.

"Yeah, well, a girl can dream," she started walking towards the other side of the building, looking for another entrance. "Is there somewhere else we can get in? A back door or something?"

Murphy, following closely on her heels, shook his head. "I had them all removed when I was set up here," he explained. "There's only one way in. Or out."

(y/n)'s eyes settled on a higher window, one of the very few with no bars on it.

"Says who?"

He followed her gaze to the window and immediately grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. Her immediate reflex was to recoil. They both paused awkwardly, before he cleared his throat and continued.

"Look, I don't know what's in there."

She arched an eyebrow. "And? We need the stuff for the cure, do we not?" He ran a hand through his dark hair.

"I'll go in first."

(y/n) shoved her pistol back into her thigh holster. "I don't think so. I can't exactly lift you up there."

"Then we'll find another way in!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's your problem?"

The look he gave her was nothing short of anguished - written plain as day on his face. She wasn't sure if she was afraid... or intrigued.

"My problem, is that you want to go in there alone. And I have no idea what brain-eating creature will be waiting for you. Us," He tacked on quickly, as if it was an afterthought.

She gave him a wry, teasing smile. "Murphy, are you worried about me?" He sighed heavily.

"I think I liked you better when you were afraid of me."

His gaze flickered away from her and his shrug seemed forced, causing her smile to widen.

"That's not true, is it?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," he protested weakly, moving to stand below the window to help her up.

She braced her foot on her knee as his hands gripped her waist, ready to push her higher so she could enter through the window. The fabric did very little to dull the feeling of his hands on her, but she forced herself to tease him instead - a distraction.

"Aw, don't tell me you actually like me, Al."

He paused, obviously not expecting the nickname to fall from her lips. She took that moment to step up, hefting herself up and through the window.

It's glass had been broken long ago, and crunched softly beneath her boots as she maneuvered through the opening.

"You okay?" His call reached her. Instead of replying, she reached a hand out the window and showed off her middle finger. His chuckle was quiet, growing distant as she made her way through the room.

The place had been ransacked, it looked like. Debris littered practically every surface, scattered in a way that suggested someone - or something - had called this place home after Murphytown had fallen apart.

(y/n) took her gun from her holster again. Moving through the building slowly, she had a feeling it wouldn't be wise to be unarmed. Distantly, she thought she heard a floor creaking.

Cautiously, she approached the room that she thought the noise had originated from. Despite years of survival, her heart still pounded as she crept towards it.

From the doorway, she couldn't see anything beyond the typical debris and a busted-up cradle. This looked like a child's room, complete with a table set for tea and -

(y/n) screamed as the thing flew at her face. Her finger closed over the trigger reflexively, sending a bullet through the nearby window. As the glass fell, she swatted blindly at the air.

"Fucking hell," she cursed, watching the bird fly happily over her head and down the hall. "Chill out, (y/n)."

Downstairs, she swore she heard a thumping. She adjusted the grip on her gun and slowly began descending the stairs. She felt more confident now, after the bird scare.

Surely there wouldn't be anything still here. Or, at least, that's what she tried to tell herself to calm her racing heart.

The thumping continued, punctuated by a worried cry of her name. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Just that selfish idiot, trying to bust the door down.

"Relax," she shouted back, quickly jogging down the stairs towards the door. "I'm fine! It was just a bir-" The zombie careened into her, its rotting stench filling her nostrils.

She fought against the feeling of bile rising in her throat. It's arms latched onto her and it tugged. Her blood froze as her hold released on her gun, which skittered off to the side.

"Shit," she cried out, pushing at its shoulders to keep its snapping teeth off of her. It smelt like death, and felt like it too. This fear was something she hadn't experienced very often lately, unused to its crippling effect.

"Murphy!" She managed, gritting her teeth as its spit flew at her, teeth gnashing the empty air. "Help me! Please!"

She'd known this man at the prison. Watched as he fled from the zombies during outbreak, not bothering to help his fellow prisoners. What on God's green earth had made her think that he would help her?

(y/n) panted, finally having managed get the thing off her. She pushed it roughly. The sound of squelching flesh reached her ears as its arm fell off from the impact of hitting the opposite wall.

Murphy's anxious voice called over the sound of him hitting the door repeatedly, trying to get in to her.

"I'm coming! Hang in there, (y/n)!"

The fear in his voice matched what she was feeling as the zombie shambled towards her. Her heart pounded in her ears as she watched a few more of its friends stumble through a dark doorway nearby.

"Please, hurry!"

Gun. She needed to find her gun. The thumping had stopped - had he left her?

Oh God, he'd left her here to fight them on her own. When was the last time she'd fought a zombie? Oh, she was so fucked.

The first one's remaining arm flailed out towards her and she ducked, knees hitting the floor. She was quick to crawl forwards and kick its knee out, sending it sprawling to the floor.

She stood - the other zombies quickly gaining on her - and stomped roughly on its rotting skull. The contents of its head splattered her boots and pants, bloody proof of the mercy she'd given it.

The sound of three gunshots caused her ears to ring a little and she whirled around, trying to catch her breath.

"What the-"

Murphy stood with her gun in his hand, face stony as he watched the undead corpses fall to the ground. There were bullet wounds in each of their heads. A kill shot.

He'd killed them, to save her.

His chest was heaving - just like hers - and he closed the distance between them quickly. His softly shaking hands grabbed her shoulders, his eyes wild and searching her for injuries.

"Are you bit?"

"No," she shook her head, wiping blood from her cheek. "I'm fine."

"You're hurt. Shit, I told you, you shouldn't have-"

"Murphy."

His eyes finally settled on hers as he angled his face downwards to look at her. She stared pointedly down at the hands clutching her jacket and he immediately let go, taking a step back.

The two avoided eye contact briefly, giving (y/n) time to access the damage he'd done to the doors. The debris had been cast aside like it weighed nothing, and she sword the door was hanging crookedly.

Like Murphy had torn it apart, just to get to her. The thought warmed her cheeks, so she hung her head as she pushed past him to head up the stairs.

"Let's just get this shit and go home."

--Altura, the following week

George looked at her expectantly as (y/n) slammed the door the vehicle closed and strode away. "Well?"

"'Well' what?"

George's eyes were alight with excitement, but over what - (y/n) wasn't sure. She was planning something, that was for sure.

"How was it?"

The ex-guard shrugged, casting a glance at Murphy, who was grabbing their supplies to take straight to Sun Mei's old lab. "It was fine. We got everything, so the cure should be ready for testing soon."

George shook her head, smiling. "That's not what I was talking about, and you know it." (y/n) feigned innocence, cocking her head.

"What, you mean how you sent me with him on purpose? Nice try, Cupid, but it's not going to be that easy."

George raised a dark eyebrow, watching her friend cast a small smile at Murphy as he walked past, supplies in hand. The man returned it, eyes softer than what George thought was possible - based on Warren's description of him - and her own experiences with the man.

"I hate you," (y/n) muttered, pulling George in for a quick, fierce hug. Her friend was surprised, but returned it after a brief second of hesitation.

"I love you too, buddy."

The women pulled away, and (y/n) laughed despite herself. "Just so you know, I'll get you back for this." George laughed.

"You gonna tell me what happened, or not?"

George watched as her friend strode away, shaking her head fondly. Heading in the same direction as Murphy had gone - towards Sun Mei's old lab.

"Nope," she called over her shoulder, grinning happily.

She had other things to tell someone else.

George could wait, because right now: she needed to talk to Murphy. They were years in the making - from before the apocalypse to today.

And she was done waiting.

--Pacifica, 1 year later

Later, memories of before began to surface. How her heart would race anytime he was near, the stumble in her words at the sight of his stupid winks. The way she had tried to play it off for her own sanity.

A guard could never love a prisoner - no matter how charming he could be. The charming were often the worse ones, after all. But not Murphy. Murphy was different.

So, she told herself it was fear. That she snuck glances at him because she was afraid he'd try to hurt her. That she thought of him often because of how much he terrified her.

But she wasn't afraid, she'd been lying to herself. She could see that now.

It was never fear. It was love.

As if he could sense she was thinking of him, Murphy suddenly sat down on the bench beside her, sun rays hitting his red-tinted skin and highlighting the flattering cut of his suit.

"So, what'll it be today, my dear? You gonna throw me in solitary confinement, or let me enjoy the sunshine?" He asked, trailing a hand down her arm until it reached her hand, before lifting it to his mouth. His kiss was gentle, unlike the rest of him.

And she loved it.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see, Al."

"Yes, ma'am."

NOTES;

ok i actually love them so much omg

[harlstiel]

Murphy: Can you please keep it down? I'm trying to think.

10k: Don't worry. Trying anything for the first time is hard.

[supernaturalkickparty]

Goddddd Murphy heard "Lucy" in his head and he ran outside so quick.

He didn't care to think of whatever was out there, all reason and logic went out the window the moment he had the tiniest bit of hope he thought his daughter was alive

[redpool]

I am a suffering Murphy fan. I NEED FICS, PLEASE GOD.

[cuppachar]

Just decided to give Z Nation another go (think I was put off originally by the super fast zombie baby) and now I can't get enough of this series.

I mean what's not to love - I have a traumatised 10k with daddy issues and a morally corrupt Murphy with great one-liners. And I have just over another 4 seasons to go.

It might not be TWD, but I dip in and out of that in small doses 'cause I find it a tad overwhelming to track the, like, 1001 characters, and slow burn episodes. Z-Nation has a smaller core character group, and is more hammed up, with a side of trauma and angst and I just know that I'm gonna love Murphy's journey.

[lilicannotfly]

Serena was a real freak and I can respect that lols but also wdym you see zombie bites on a living man and your first reaction is to lick them 😭

[cc-gross]

Does any one find Murphy from Z Nation attractive or is it just me?

[clownieboo]

it feels like nobody in the z nation fandom talks about doc x murphy and that’s really what is shattering my heart into a million itty bitty pieces

[shipshinablog]

[lultimastrega]

#MURPHY #KEITHALLAN || #Lultima_Strega #LultimaStrega #ZNation #Murphy #AlvinMurphy #AlvinBernardMurphy #KeithAllan

[dietcokeangel2004]

10k x Reader aesthetic

Listen to the girl, as she takes on half the world. Moving up and so alive. In her honey dripping beehive. Beehive. It's good, so good, it's so good. So good!

~ Just like Honey by the Jesus and Mary Chain.

[verifiedgoddess-afterhours]

Do you get deja vu? (murphy x fem!reader) Requested by Anon <3

(i still don't know how tumblr rlly works so i lost your ask otherwise i would have replied to it here!! sry love!! hope u enjoyyyy)

wc: 2.4k

⌞ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ... murphy is reunited with an old... friend? acquaintance? fling? neither of them really knows ⌝

--Kittery, Maine. Day One.

Portsmouth Naval Prison was no joke. Sure, it didn't house the worst of the worst within its barbed wire-tipped walls, but that didn't mean it wasn't any less ruthless.

It was petty criminals, mostly. Tax evasion, assault, breaking and entering, and smuggling. The truth? Most of their inmates thought they were scarier than they were. But one inmate in particular - Alvin Murphy - didn't think he was nearly as scary as he was.

At least, to her.

While she didn't show it, his deadly charm and even deadlier reputation as being a self-serving bastard - spiked her anxiety tenfold.

Whether he was winking at her as she led him from his cell to the recreation area for his outdoor time, or flashing her a grin whenever he deigned to use the workout facility, Alvin Murphy terrified her.

Or, rather, the idea of her attitude toward him terrified her.

(y/n) was not a gentle woman. The only woman at Portsmouth Naval, she had learned very on that gentleness would get you killed - or worse. Being a guard didn't help either. There was a constant target on her back, one that seemed a little more pronounced when he was around.

She'd caught his piercing blue eyes on her more times than she cared to admit, and each was received with a glare summoned from the very bottom of her heart.

She meant her glares. Each and every one of them. Or, at least, that's what she told herself.

Her heart raced as she stood guard over their recreation area, where the man sat playing cards with a few other inmates. Her eyes were narrowed with suspicion as she watched him.

They were betting with something that she couldn't see from here, not as she was also trying to watch the other inmates as well. Her partner had went back inside to answer a distress call on the radio, and hadn't come out since.

The sun was slowly beginning to shift closer towards the horizon, signaling to the inmates it was almost time to head back in. She mentally prepared herself, resting a hand on her gun.

Serving for ten years leaves old habits that die hard, that's for sure.

The heavy metal door leading back into the prison slammed open against the brick exterior, startling the guard. She immediately spun to face the source of the noise, her heart racing for an entirely different reason now.

Her partner stumbled out, looking worse for wear.

"Hey, are you alright?" She knelt down where he'd fallen, noticing the blood staining his clothes. Behind him, multiple inmates and a few other guards came rushing out.

She watched with wide eyes as they came flooding out, most of them covered in blood. Her weapon was out in an instant, its safety out. This was a riot.

Her partner suddenly stirred with a guttural groan that didn't quite sound human and stood on his feet. The guard, frozen in fear, raised her weapon at the quickly-approached flood of bodies.

"Stop!" She shouted over the groans and howls of the people. No, something was wrong. "Everyone on your knees! Now!"

Her voice reached no ears, and she stood paralyzed as one inmate - bloody, like the others - latched himself onto another. Blood sprayed her uniform as he tore a chunk from their neck, sending gore flying.

(y/n) stumbled back, away from the creatures with a cry. More cries resounded in the courtyard from the other inmates.

What the hell was going on?

She risked a look towards the picnic table, seeing Murphy's eyes wide with fear.

"RUN!" She shouted over the noise, before firing her weapon at the violent crowd. Whatever they had become, they definitely weren't human.

And Murphy?

Murphy watched his favorite guard - who he knew hated him - defend these inmates, who would have let her die in a second. But she was fighting to protect them.

She fired her weapon into the mass of monsters and one fell dead at her feet. For a minute, he was frozen. He'd seen her in the same outfit - pressed guard's uniform and boots - for two years. Her hair was always pulled back without imperfections, and she was beautiful. An idiot could it. Way too pretty to be stuck in this place with them. But hey, he was just grateful for something pretty - besides himself - to look at.

But now, her face covered in blood and her eyes wide with fear as she shot at her former teammates?

Well, she was a damned goddess. Even as the zombies - as he later found out they were - killed her.

Or so he thought.

-- Altura. Voting Day.

The ex-military tapped her foot impatiently, her heavy black boot the only thing punctuating the silence. The vote was to be cast today, and they just got word of a new batch of survivors being brought in from outside.

On today, of all days? Shit, she'd have her work cut out for her.

Between being George's right-hand woman and leading her forces, settling with petty squabbles between talker and human, AND on top of keeping the peace during voting, she now had to deal with this.

They were currently getting checked out, but she'd caught wind from one of the nurses down at the gate that one of them was red - like the devil.

Weird.

Being such high-priority personnel, (y/n) was given the opportunity to cast her vote before polls officially opened, since she was going to be busy dealing with the chaos that would surely ensue.

She crossed her arms with a huff, waiting for the person to hurry up and pick yes or no already. It had been way longer than they needed. Finally, she slammed her fist against the door of the voting room.

"Do you mind? Some of us have places to be. Just pick already!"

Her tone was short, annoyance seeping into every syllable. This far into apocalypse, she didn't have the patience for this kind of bullshit. Her fucks had run out before the undead took over the world, and now she had none left to give.

Unfortunate for everyone around her, sure.

For her? Well, this was just reality.

The door finally opened to reveal a very angry-looking squad member from another team. From Pacifica, guessing from the emblem on her jacket.

"Impatient, much?"

"Indecisive, much?" (y/n) sneered back, before slamming the door.

Vote now cast, the team leader could head down to join her team at the polls in the main building. She took her usual shortcut, across the metal catwalk and down the "emergency exit" staircase.

Emergency exit, her ass.

She entered the rowdy haul silently. Years of apocalypse had taught her to be quiet. But there was no distracting from her commanding presence as she moved to stand by George.

Her friend cast her a small smile, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"Glad you could make it!"

(y/n) suppressed a grin at her friend's welcome, settling for a nod instead as she observed the crowd carefully. Looking for danger or opposition.

"Yeah, me too."

"You voted?"

"Yep."

George's hope was contagious - that was how she'd roped (y/n) into starting Newmerica with her in the first place. Watching the crowd, her heart warmed with the prospect of a safe place, away from the horrors of the apocalypse.

It was about time she had the chance for a little bit of peace. Ever since that day at Portsmouth, her entire life had been a cortisol, fight-or-flight fever dream.

But today, maybe that was over.

A new crowd of people entered the hall, and (y/n) frowned as the back of her neck suddenly prickled. The room seemed smaller, somehow.

A familiar fear crept up the base of her spine, licking at her fingertips that clenched into anxious fists. She scanned the crowd more actively now, eyes darting from figure to figure.

"Oh, I totally forgot," George suddenly piped up. "An old friend of mine from Black Summer - right before I met you - showed up today. With some friends."

"That's nice, George," she replied distractedly, still searching the crowd. Her heart was pounding anxiously in her chest. But why?

"Yeah, they came in with that weird, red guy Janet was telling you about."

(y/n)'s gaze quickly darted to her friend once more. "Red guy?"

"Calls himself 'Murphy'. I guess they've been together a long time. There was... tension between them." Her dark eyebrows waggled a little before she raised a hand.

A dark-haired woman in the crowd, raised hers back in response, giving a wave. (y/n) looked at the figure behind her and-

No.

No. No. No. No.

Fuck.

"Please don't be him, please don't be him," (y/n) muttered under her breath, feeling a fresh wave of that icy-cold fear wash over her body.

"Warren! Murphy! Come join us."

(y/n) kept her gaze locked firmly on the woman, refusing to acknowledge the man beside her. She'd caught a glimpse when he wasn't paying attention, and that was enough for her.

He was red, that was for sure. But damn it, only Alvin Murphy could make red skin like the devil look good. And did it ever look good on him. His suit didn't help, either.

The prisoner she knew was gone, but then again, the guard he knew was gone too.

"Nice to meet you," Warren - the woman - gave her a salute, which she returned.

"You too."

"What, nothing for me?" Murphy appeared in her vision, leaning closer to force her to look at him. His mouth was curved up into a smirk, like he knew all too well what she was thinking.

What she was feeling.

"Not even a 'i missed you'?"

(y/n) glared at him, having to look up a little to meet his eyes, which were alight with amusement. This bastard was enjoying this! Of course he was, she thought wryly.

"I'm not a liar," she replied with false sweetness, crossing her arms. "So I won't tell you I missed you, Murphy." His grin widened.

"You two know each other?" George looked between them, observing (y/n)'s glare levelled in the newcomer's direction.

"No," The woman said quickly, eyes darting to her friend.

"We're old friends," Murphy amended, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "Will you excuse us?"

Ignoring her protests, the man led her outside into an abandoned hall, where it was quiet. She grit her teeth, letting him think he had control.

The second they weren't around any witnesses, (y/n) pushed her forearm against his throat and forced him against the wall. Rough enough that he gasped, but didn't look afraid.

No, if anything - he looked excited.

"What the fuck was that?" She hissed, anger contorting her features. "You think we're friends? We were never friends, Murphy." He chuckled, a red hand raised to brush a stray lock of her from her face.

"We weren't? Still playing hard to get, I see."

She increased the pressure on his windpipe, which shut him up pretty quick. He tapped her shoulder a few times, and she reluctantly released him. Just a little.

"How are you alive?" She asked incredulously, suspicion evident in the pull of her brows. "Portsmouth was overrun, they told me everybody died."

He brushed invisible lint from his shoulder with a flourish. "Not everybody, sweetheart."

"Don't. Call. Me. That." She grit her teeth, ignoring the rush of warmth that was definitely not fear.

"Or what?" His mouth twitched with barely-contained amusement. "You'll hit me, Miss Guard?"

She flashed him a sweet smile before stepping back, needing some distance between them. "You really don't want to find out. Now, stay away from me, or you will be finding out."

He chuckled, a rich, low sound that she knew would be stuck in her head all day long. And maybe all night, too. It had been so long since she'd heard it, it was sure to be stuck in her head for longer than she would ever admit to anyone.

"Maybe I want to find out," he replied coolly, a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. She turned on her heel to stride away from him, needing some fresh air while he mind reeled.

A rough tug on her wrist forced her to turn back to look at him. She groaned in frustration. "What do you want, Murphy?"

He paused, seeming unsure for the first time during their reunion. Like he wasn't sure what he wanted, only that she was involved. "I..."

"Come on, spit it out," she quipped.

He cleared his throat and loosened his grip on her wrist, enough to still have an excuse to touch her - proof that she was really here. Alive.

"I wanted to thank you," he began slowly, watching confusion take over her features. The apocalypse had done wonders for her, and his eyes trailed over the scar marring her face as he wondering who did it to her.

And, more importantly, where he could find them to make them pay for harming her.

"For saving me. That day, in Portsmouth. You saved me."

She scoffed, brushing it off. "I didn't do that just to save you. But... it looks like you're the only one that made it out alive."

He nodded grimly. "Long story short: everyone croaked and turned Z, which left yours truly to graciously sacrifice himself for the good of humanity."

She gave him a flat look, unimpressed. "So, to translate: they tied you down and forced you? That sounds a little more accurate." He paused, letting out a brief, indignant laugh.

"No, no, I'm telling you-"

The man halted in his tracks. (y/n) had finally cracked a smile, the first one he'd seen her sport in years. And the first one he'd seen that he was the cause of.

Pride stirred in his chest.

"Uh-huh. Sure." She shook her head and pulled from his grasp, still smiling a little as she left him standing in the hall. She paused at the door and turned to look at him.

"Hey, Murphy?"

He raised his head immediately at her voice, hopefulness evident. "Yes, (y/n)?"

She winked at him. "It's good to see you."

The door slammed behind her, leaving the man to mull over what just happened. His heart, which the vaccine had always made to feel more like a lump in his chest, was racing.

He felt alive - for the first time in a long time. He might have been halfway to being a zombie, but he sure as hell didn't feel like it.

He felt human.

--

NOTE;

i did not mean for it to be that long but i got carried away LOL i actually love Murphy(when he isn't hurting my man 10k) hehe

should i make a part 2?

-vg.

(also wrote this at 12:30am so not proofread)

[rubyof-thesea]

ares in the new pjo episode be like

[harlstiel]

Random person in the apocalypse trying to rob Operation Bitemark: Hand it over! I've got a gun!

Murphy: Yeah, and I've got a death wish, so that's not gonna work.

Doc: Murphy-!