They refused to call her Haiplana and so Viena made sure they knew it was the worst decision they had ever made.

Minutes could feel like hours and yet hours could feel like seconds as they stood at her mercy. Time was not real and not even their captor kept track, as Viena had bigger things to worry about.

She wanted her prisoners to be scarred beyond compare when they left her, the witches to have learnt their lesson and frankly she was annoyed that someone had beaten her too it. She had very little untampered flesh left for her on the pair, she wondered to herself what they had done in particular to deserve such punishment.

Murphy didn't know it was possible to feel this weak, to feel like every single one of your bones and muscles was disintegrating beneath you. Every movement he did was a strain, every move became a marathon. So when Viena pulled him up towards her, he didn't respond, only looked at her blankly, "You better start talking," She took out a knife from her pocket and watched as John came to the realisation that it was actually his, "And fast."

She placed the tip of the blade directly over his heart and lightly traced a 'x' shape, she wasn't planning on penetrating the skin but with so many cuts already blood was bound to be spilled.

All he did was laugh, "I dare you." He replied.

"Ungrateful bastard." She struck him across his face and pushed him back to the floor. He was not going to call her bluff because she knew she wouldn't kill them, they were only useful alive and the pair knew that. She was so close to breaking them, so close to getting exactly what she wanted.

She wasn't going to wait anymore. Leaving Murphy lying on the cave floor she turned to Winnie and began her poisoning.

Winnie had become impossible to read, she had stopped crying but never seemed to fully regain the iron like statue she had when she first entered the cave. Now, however Viena was going to use everything she had against Winnie Scarfone.

"I like him," Viena told the other witch but even Winnie had learned that it was too much energy to become angry at every word her captor said, years of practise meant it wasn't that hard a task, "He's something special."

The witch knew what was about to come, "It would be a real shame if something were to happen to him...."

Viena very carefully let the tip of her blade pierce through her finger and continued, "He already seems so fragile. I don't think it would take much."

"If you do, I won't talk." Winnie replied.

"We'll see," Viena smiled, "Anya, it's time."

Anya came in with her knife drawn and Winnie watched in absolute horror as it was laden with a thick black substance that had a couple of drops that were threatening to ooze off of it. It reminded her of the thick oil that older parts of the Ark used for various reasons and that meant she knew one thing about it; it had to be toxic.

"This one is for Lincoln." Anya muttered to John.

He didn't even hear her, the only sense that worked were his smell and touch. He could smell the thick and clogging stench of the tar as it came closer to his nose and then he felt the excruciating burn as it dropped down onto his chest and smoke rose from the change of temperature. It didn't disappear at all in the coming seconds but the drip on the back of his neck did and that was the one thing driving him mad.

"No," Winnie whispered.

"What was that?" Viena asked as if she was speaking to a little child, a little child she was encouraging to jump off a cliff.

"I said stop it! " This time Winnie shouted louder than she had done at any member of camp, at any meeting or any event.

Even Anya stopped in her tracks to look at Winnie, her lips in a thin line across her face yet her hand still poised at John's throat.

"That is going to cost you witch." Viena replied with her same even tone, not raising her voice at all.

Winnie didn't care about the cost, she was not letting John Murphy die because both of them were too stubborn to rat out the people who tried to kill them.

"I'll talk," Winnie felt like she had been beaten by Viena but she would trade her moral pride for Murphy's pain any day, "Just let him be."

It was Anya who seemed the most upset at this but she wiped the knife on her trouser leg and once she could see the silver through only smears of tar she put it away. After a quick nod to Viena it was Anya that walked to the edge of the cave to the water barrell.

Winnie didn't pay them or herself much attention, only focusing on if she could see the slight rise and fall of John's chest. She didn't even notice the tears spilling out of her eyes that accompanied her now dry throat.

Anya plunged her hands into it and filled them with water and drank from her palms, it tasted dirty, like drinking pure rain water and had a smell that was a mix of sweat and mud but she still drank it all. Then she filled her own container and with her back to the rest of them tipped the vial that was hanging around her waist into it. She did not worry about the added colour, like Anya had promised, it was undetectable without sunlight

The women walked back to Murphy and dropped his gag,  "Drink," She commanded and brought the container to his chapped lips. It would taste different; of seaweed and blood. The boy was parched and didn't even think about resisting, he would have done anything the grounders told him at this point.He put the strange taste down to the blood that was already swirling in his mouth.

Viena watched his Adam's apple rise up and down and a small dribble fall either side of his mouth. She turned to Winnie, "Now start talking."

---

His head hurt, it was a low thumping sound at the back of his skull. Murphy knew there would be a bruise forming and felt the area to make sure. He was right, it was tender to the touch. That's when he knew something was wrong.

Murphy opened his eyes as quickly as he could but one wouldn't open, blood had hardened as he had been unconscious and his eyelids refused to open under his black eye. However even if both had opened he still wouldn't have trusted the image he saw; the sun.

After so long being in the shadows the light blinded him and immediately he wretched onto the ground he was lying on, it was a dark shade of red that Murphy has known too well.
He recoiled from it, rolling the other way despite all of the muscles in his body yelling at him not to and he squeezed his eyes shut again. He landed on his back and screamed in response.

Without his sight and the constant banging in his head it was his other senses that he relied on. As he felt around his surroundings, his brain still not comprehending anything that was happening, he felt individual blades of grass between his fingers and he felt the slight sting as they brushed against his cuts. It was wet underneath him and once his senses noticed it was all over his body, sodden clothes against every bit of his body. It was then that he remembered, like a light switch in his brain. There wasn't that drip anymore. He wasn't in a cave.

Murphy sat up and immediately fell back down again after his vision went black and he vomited again, this time only a small smattering on his clothes. He tried to look around but he was blind, instead he felt the ground, searching like a madman for any sign of her.

He searched and searched as his limited sight came back to him but soon the realisation dawned on him, he was alone.

He screamed her name now just in desperation, only making him feel worse. The birds scattered from around him, he heard there wings beating on the breeze but still he was alone. He didn't even think about the Grounders and where they may, even in his freedom he was still their play toy. 

After he had finished he began to cough and it wouldn't stop, it broke him out into a red hot sweat despite the cooling breeze, his body convulsed and blood splattered from his mouth.

"I was going to die." He whispered to the wind.

He had never thought about the possibility of freedom by himself, he had never wanted to be alone.

Since John Murphy had met Winnie Scarfone he had never been alone and now he felt as if he was the only man alive. Yet he wasn't and he knew he couldn't wait there forever.

He wouldn't waste the freedom, Winnie would never forgive him for that.
The only question was where was he to  go? To the hundred or to Winnie.

He had to trust his head over his heart as he believed Winnie would do the same.

He wanted to walk in, to defy the expectations of those he would encounter but when he stopped just before the threshold and peeled back the fabric of his trousers to look at his legs he felt a disconnection so strong with the bruised and swollen limb that he hated himself for it.

So John Murphy crawled to his destination and who met him was to become a blessing in surprise.

"So you did survive then." Octavia Blake said and John Murphy did not reply.