Your Silent Hill and mine aren't the same, Murphy. There's... there's overlap, but they're not the same. And there's no fucking way more than one version of that town exists, not like this. [ A sharp inhale. ] Shit matches up, and then-then it doesn't [ Her voice tightens, picking up pace despite herself. ] The cult. The weird realities. Even... Even Toluca exists in both of them.
[ A creeping, suffocating pressure is building behind her ribs. ] I don't understand it. [ The edge in her voice gives way to something thinner, something more fragile. ] I don't like it. [ The last words almost falter. It's made her feel alone in a way she can't quite put into words. ]
Is ... the town doing something? [ Murphy agrees that there can't be more than one of those places. But the idea that he can't save Sharon, that he can't save Maria. It takes the air out of his lungs; it burns something inside of him. ] I mean ... how could that happen?
[ It doesn't make any sense. ] I don't like it, either... [ But still. ] I'm going to keep my promise to you.
The only thing that makes sense is that our worlds aren't the same, just... close enough to mirror each other. Like this Earth. It isn't ours, but it's similar enough. [ Alternate universes aren't anything new to them, not anymore, but this one... this one cuts deeper than the rest. There's something especially cruel about it, something that seems tailored to hurt them. ]
You can't keep that promise, Murphy, and it's not... it's not as though I'd ever hold you to it. [ She never would have, not really. Still, the thought of it, the fragile hope he'd offered, had mattered more than she'd like to admit. And now that it's gone, she can't quite understand why it hurts this much. ] I'm sorry.
You don't have to be sorry! This isn't your fault!
[ He shouldn't yell at her, but it comes out that way. He doesn't want her to be sorry how he can't save her; he doesn't want her to feel that guilt. Scratching his forehead, his frustration boil hot - why is it that she has to suffer all alone? Why is it that she's given any hope for it to be taken away?
... is there anything waiting for him back home? ]
... no, I'll keep my promise. [ A burning desire eats away at his senses. He has nothing left for him in his own world, after all. ] I'll figure it out. I'll come with you. I said I wouldn't let you go through this alone, right? That I'd find Rose?
Just means I'll not be going back to my home any time soon... and that's fine.
[ Sharon flinches when his voice rises, but she understands him all the same—this isn't anger turned on her, it's frustration spilling over. And she gets it. None of this is fair. It feels like they're handed one impossible situation after another, with no real choice but to endure it.
She can feel that pull in him, that fierce, almost desperate need to follow through on what he's said, and it aches to witness. He means it. He'd keep that promise, even if it meant stepping away from everything he knows, everything that's his. Sharon doesn't know what she's done to earn that. It sits heavy in her chest. ]
Murphy. [ His name carries something fragile, something pleading beneath it. ] It's okay. We... we don't even know what's possible yet. We don't know if going home is even on the table. [ Her voice falters, uncertainty creeping in around the edges. ] I didn't want to face that place alone, not again, and part of me... Part of me doesn't even want to go back. But I—I don't know. I really don't know.
[ This is talk for far into the future. It might not even be something to discuss now, but a part of him wants to - he wants to keep giving her a little bit of hope to hold onto. Because she deserves to have something like that in her life. ]
We don't know what's possible, Sharon, and that's why I'm going to say if it is... I'm coming with you. So, you don't have to face it alone. [ And he gets what she's saying, but he believes she'll still go back -- her mother still might be there. ]
[ They don't even know what's possible—and still, he's there, saying he'll go with her, that he'll face whatever's waiting on the other side. And they both know exactly what that means. The same nightmare he managed to escape by ending up here. For all her hesitation, for all the ways she tries to push it away, there's something undeniably grounding in it. The way he keeps choosing it. Choosing her. Refusing to let her face the Order alone. ]
I can't tell you how much that means to me, Murphy. [ The feeling settles deep in their tether, like a heartbeat—something warm enough to ache. ] But don't you want to go back? To your world? Your home?
[ Maybe it should be embarrassing, that quiet realization that Murphy can feel what she feels, even the faint, ghostlike brush of it, but it isn't. If anything, it settles into something warm. Comforting. Right. Good. He knows. He understands the weight of it, even if she can't quite shape it into words that do it justice, and that familiar thread of gratitude for their connection pulls tight again.
But—oh. ]
No partner? Friends? [ The words come softer, edged with something uneasy. She doesn't want him to throw his future away for her. Too many people already have. ]
[ A faint bit of amusement brushes through before it's swallowed up with a quiet resignation. Because he's already accepted what has happened. ]
... when my son died, I became a different person. Everyone who cared about me ... they decided it would be better to not be around me.
[ A tight smile but the sensation given is an apology. Because he understands this might be upsetting for her to hear. ]
It wasn't their fault, either. I wanted to be alone.
[ He burned every bridge he had, and felt justified in doing it. Was it wrong? Yes. He left his wife to mourn the loss of their son without him; he thought it was best she wouldn't see him destroy himself. But he left her to suffer alone - but she found someone else to be there for her. He's relieved, even though he can't take any credit for her recovery and steps toward a better future.
A beat. ] So, there isn't anyone waiting for me anymore.
[ The loss of a child changes people—she's seen it firsthand, watched what it did to Dahlia, how it hollowed her out, how it broke her. But whatever it did to Murphy... it twisted him into something even the people he once cared about couldn't stand to be near. And he says he wanted that, chose it—chose to be alone.
Sharon tries to make sense of it, turns it over in her mind, but it never quite settles into something she can grasp. Even so, she doesn't push, doesn't ask him to explain it in a way she'd understand. Her own beginning is too different, too strange—she's only ever been brought into the world carrying powers no one should have. Losing Sharon would've hurt, yes, but Alessa made that choice anyway, a sacrifice to keep the Order from getting what they wanted.
The silence stretches before she finally speaks. ] I'm sorry, Murphy. [ She leaves it there—no probing, no pressure, even if a part of her itches to dig deeper. ]
[ That's really all that he feels is right to say.
It's a lot to put on a teenager's shoulders, especially someone that he's trying to help. There's a wave of guilt that comes - but not because of what he admitted. It's what he's still hiding. However, he isn't sure how he can even tackle any of those things.
Yet he feels like Sleep is going to make it so that he challenges them.
Is she like Silent Hill, then? Trying to have him come to terms with something? Why?
[ Guilt rolls through the connection, unignorable, and she assumes he hates what he's done to the people closest to him. That maybe, in some ways, he mourns his decision. The losses he chose for the loss he didn't. ]
If you... If you ever need someone to talk to, Murphy, I'm a good listener.
[ Theoretically, he could keep it quiet forever. He could never tell her anything and when they arrive in another world - would his record be clean? Would it be like it never happened? His chest hurt at the thought that he would be lying to her by omission, especially given how much she trusts him. ]
... yeah, I know you are, Sharon.
[ A beat. ] So, I got something to tell you but... [ Would it be better in the Murmur? Where she could peel off if she wants? Or is that easier for him? ] ... it's not something to say over this thought bubble connection thing.
[ It's an old mechanic's shop. Pointless to actually try to work anything in it 'cause most of it is rusted or mold-covered. But despite it all, he has carved out a little place for himself for now. ]
I'll be there soon. [ With that, she cuts the connection, slipping the mask from her face, though her emotions still bleed faintly through the tether, a deep well of concern threaded with a low, steady hum of fear. She tells herself she's overthinking it on the way there, repeats it like it might stick, but it never quite does—not even after she swings off Belladonna and pushes through the door of the old shop. ]
Hey, Murphy. [ Her blonde hair is a frizzy mess, her winter coat hanging oversized enough to swallow her whole, but the cold has painted her cheeks with a bright, living flush, and she shifts her bag on her shoulder, just a touch awkward. ]
[ An equally anxious reply, but is he overthinking it? She might understand - a lot of people would understand. Yet still, he feels an odd lump in his throat. He's glad the gas mask covers up his expression. He wonders if it muffles the tone of his voice.
Involuntarily, he rubs his forehead (just feels the old leather of the mask instead of skin and sighs) as he gestures for Sharon to enter - feeling like he should at least welcome her in before he starts saying whatever he wants. ]
It's still kind of ... well, it isn't 100% face-to-face but still feels better than just... through a connection.
[ The gas mask unsettles her more than she'd like to admit, dredging up memories of the miners' gear the Brethren used to wear. ] You... can't take it off for a little bit? [ She wants to see his face, needs to, really—especially if this conversation is important enough to be spoken about in person. ] Just for this, maybe?
[ It's a pause before he undoes the straps of the mask. His shoulders drop before he pulls it free - his face has become much more fish-like since they last spoke. Gills and fins extending out past his face. Pressed down against his skin thanks to the mask, he lets out a half sigh. Some of his hair even seems like it's starting to fall out in place of scales and more decorative attachments. ]
[ Sharon straightens a little as the mask comes off, her eyes widening as she takes in just how far the changes have gone. It's what happens with Offerings, she knows that, but seeing it is always something else, the way a body can shift so completely. Murphy doesn't look like he did when they first met, that's for sure. ]
I don't know how you stand wearing that thing. It's gotta be hot. [ She pointedly avoids mentioning the changes outright. She's known plenty of Offerings who struggle with what they've become, and the last thing she wants is to press on something that might still hurt.
She steps further into the shop, digging into her tote bag before pulling out a small bundle of biscuits. ] Brought you something to eat. Just the kind you make with mix. [ Add water, mix, bake. ] A little dry, but... [ Her voice trails off as she offers them over, a bit awkward. ]
It's kind of uncomfortable. [ He gives a little shrug of his shoulders. ] But I mean, it connects me to the Murmur so I know if anyone needs me.
[ His head tilts the opposite way as he had made peace with the fact he has to wear it - and hey, it keeps him from having to see how his face is changing. ]
Ah - thanks. [ A glance at the tote bag as he wonders how he thought this was gonna go down. Stand outside, say his bit, then walk back inside? His eyes roll up as he really didn't think it through, but he makes a gesture to have her come into the garage at least. ]
I've been keeping something from you and I felt ... like it was time to come clean about it.
[ The inside of the mechanic's shop is more or less cleaned out. It's more like a hovel he's been trying to live in than anything else. Complete with a metal drum to use to make fire when it gets freezing cold at night. The wrench set in a place of "honor" because it does act as a light and always shines toward the exit. ]
[ Not exactly the kind of place she would've pictured Murphy hiding out in—and it even came with a hobo drum. Still, Sharon wasn't in any position to judge. The only reason she had somewhere better to stay was because a couple of men decided she shouldn't be living like a damn stray and took her in.
The moment he says he needs to come clean about something, anxiety spikes hard in her chest. Sharon doesn't step away, but her eyes narrow slightly, caution settling in fast. The last time someone sat her down for a confession, they'd admitted to being part of the cult. ]
Okay. Out with it, then. [ Please. Please don't let this be another cult member. She doesn't think her trust could take a hit like that again. ]
[ Letting out a long exhale, he sets himself down on one of the makeshift chairs he dragged in. Metal that has had the mold scrapped off it. Something to prove that he has some control over the area he is in. ]
My son ... he was killed. [ He drops his hands in front of his body, twiddles his thumbs together. ] It is why I fell apart and left everyone around me. [ His gaze drifts down before snapping up so he can look her in the face. ]
The man who killed him... I found out where he was sent to prison. [ His mouth quirks as the fins around his face flare out. ] I worked to be sent there. I worked with a real piece of shit guard... all so I could kill him with my bare hands.
[ He brings his hands together, interfacing his fingers and tries not to make a face about the webbing. ] I destroyed everything just to kill one man [ A beat. ] That is why... nothing is waiting for me back home.
I just... didn't want to lie to you anymore. Lying by omission, anyway.
[ Sharon knew he'd lost his son, but she'd never imagined his son had been murdered. Her brow furrows as she listens, the shape of it settling heavily into place. That loss had ruined his life. No—not the loss alone. A man had ruined his life. Stolen his son, stolen every future he'd imagined for them both, and left him standing in the wreckage to pick up the pieces—
—but he couldn't.
She'd seen what losing Alessa had done to Dahlia, how grief had hollowed her out and driven her to madness, but Dahlia had never hunted down the person responsible. Never tried to make the world bleed for it. That might've gone a long way to mending Alessa's heart, to know she'd cared enough to even try.
Murphy burned the rest of his own life to the ground just to kill one man. Sharon is quiet for a long moment, gaze unfocused as she turns it over in her head. Then, finally, she drags a chair across the floor and lowers herself beside him, setting her bag carefully at her feet. ]
I appreciate you telling me. [ Softly. ] It, uh... I can't really say it changes anything. I don't—[ A huff, a frown pulling at her lips. ] I get it. And I don't judge you for it. Not even for not telling me. [ Is that how a normal girl would respond to something like this? ]
I think you did what you had to do. Sometimes that means sacrificing yourself to make sure it gets done. Not many parents would've gone that far. [ Something warm and aching blooms in her chest—not pity, but admiration. ]
I know there are people who'd tell you your son wouldn't have wanted this for you. But they don't get to decide that. They didn't know him, and they certainly don't know how pain can change someone. [ For all anyone knew, Murphy's son craved justice as much as he did. ] Did it help at all?
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no subject
Date: 2026-04-10 03:25 am (UTC)[ A creeping, suffocating pressure is building behind her ribs. ] I don't understand it. [ The edge in her voice gives way to something thinner, something more fragile. ] I don't like it. [ The last words almost falter. It's made her feel alone in a way she can't quite put into words. ]
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Date: 2026-04-10 03:53 am (UTC)[ It doesn't make any sense. ] I don't like it, either... [ But still. ] I'm going to keep my promise to you.
One way or other, I will keep my promise to you.
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Date: 2026-04-11 10:06 pm (UTC)You can't keep that promise, Murphy, and it's not... it's not as though I'd ever hold you to it. [ She never would have, not really. Still, the thought of it, the fragile hope he'd offered, had mattered more than she'd like to admit. And now that it's gone, she can't quite understand why it hurts this much. ] I'm sorry.
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Date: 2026-04-11 11:28 pm (UTC)[ He shouldn't yell at her, but it comes out that way. He doesn't want her to be sorry how he can't save her; he doesn't want her to feel that guilt. Scratching his forehead, his frustration boil hot - why is it that she has to suffer all alone? Why is it that she's given any hope for it to be taken away?
... is there anything waiting for him back home? ]
... no, I'll keep my promise. [ A burning desire eats away at his senses. He has nothing left for him in his own world, after all. ] I'll figure it out. I'll come with you. I said I wouldn't let you go through this alone, right? That I'd find Rose?
Just means I'll not be going back to my home any time soon... and that's fine.
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Date: 2026-04-12 03:13 am (UTC)She can feel that pull in him, that fierce, almost desperate need to follow through on what he's said, and it aches to witness. He means it. He'd keep that promise, even if it meant stepping away from everything he knows, everything that's his. Sharon doesn't know what she's done to earn that. It sits heavy in her chest. ]
Murphy. [ His name carries something fragile, something pleading beneath it. ] It's okay. We... we don't even know what's possible yet. We don't know if going home is even on the table. [ Her voice falters, uncertainty creeping in around the edges. ] I didn't want to face that place alone, not again, and part of me... Part of me doesn't even want to go back. But I—I don't know. I really don't know.
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Date: 2026-04-12 04:32 am (UTC)[ This is talk for far into the future. It might not even be something to discuss now, but a part of him wants to - he wants to keep giving her a little bit of hope to hold onto. Because she deserves to have something like that in her life. ]
We don't know what's possible, Sharon, and that's why I'm going to say if it is... I'm coming with you. So, you don't have to face it alone. [ And he gets what she's saying, but he believes she'll still go back -- her mother still might be there. ]
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Date: 2026-04-17 02:29 am (UTC)I can't tell you how much that means to me, Murphy. [ The feeling settles deep in their tether, like a heartbeat—something warm enough to ache. ] But don't you want to go back? To your world? Your home?
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Date: 2026-04-18 06:48 am (UTC)[ A lopsided smile appears and fades. ]
... there isn't anything waiting for me there anymore.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-21 10:45 pm (UTC)But—oh. ]
No partner? Friends? [ The words come softer, edged with something uneasy. She doesn't want him to throw his future away for her. Too many people already have. ]
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Date: 2026-04-22 01:14 am (UTC)... when my son died, I became a different person. Everyone who cared about me ... they decided it would be better to not be around me.
[ A tight smile but the sensation given is an apology. Because he understands this might be upsetting for her to hear. ]
It wasn't their fault, either. I wanted to be alone.
[ He burned every bridge he had, and felt justified in doing it. Was it wrong? Yes. He left his wife to mourn the loss of their son without him; he thought it was best she wouldn't see him destroy himself. But he left her to suffer alone - but she found someone else to be there for her. He's relieved, even though he can't take any credit for her recovery and steps toward a better future.
A beat. ] So, there isn't anyone waiting for me anymore.
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Date: 2026-04-25 09:35 pm (UTC)Sharon tries to make sense of it, turns it over in her mind, but it never quite settles into something she can grasp. Even so, she doesn't push, doesn't ask him to explain it in a way she'd understand. Her own beginning is too different, too strange—she's only ever been brought into the world carrying powers no one should have. Losing Sharon would've hurt, yes, but Alessa made that choice anyway, a sacrifice to keep the Order from getting what they wanted.
The silence stretches before she finally speaks. ] I'm sorry, Murphy. [ She leaves it there—no probing, no pressure, even if a part of her itches to dig deeper. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-04-25 10:45 pm (UTC)[ That's really all that he feels is right to say.
It's a lot to put on a teenager's shoulders, especially someone that he's trying to help. There's a wave of guilt that comes - but not because of what he admitted. It's what he's still hiding. However, he isn't sure how he can even tackle any of those things.
Yet he feels like Sleep is going to make it so that he challenges them.
Is she like Silent Hill, then? Trying to have him come to terms with something? Why?
He'll have to think about that more... ]
But thank you.
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Date: 2026-04-28 02:49 am (UTC)If you... If you ever need someone to talk to, Murphy, I'm a good listener.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-28 04:53 am (UTC)... yeah, I know you are, Sharon.
[ A beat. ] So, I got something to tell you but... [ Would it be better in the Murmur? Where she could peel off if she wants? Or is that easier for him? ] ... it's not something to say over this thought bubble connection thing.
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Date: 2026-04-29 12:22 am (UTC)...Yeah—Yeah, okay. I can come by your place, if you want me to. [ Sharon doesn't mind making a trip out. ]
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Date: 2026-04-29 06:39 pm (UTC)[ It's an old mechanic's shop. Pointless to actually try to work anything in it 'cause most of it is rusted or mold-covered. But despite it all, he has carved out a little place for himself for now. ]
Just come right on in.
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 07:30 pm (UTC)Hey, Murphy. [ Her blonde hair is a frizzy mess, her winter coat hanging oversized enough to swallow her whole, but the cold has painted her cheeks with a bright, living flush, and she shifts her bag on her shoulder, just a touch awkward. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-04-29 07:33 pm (UTC)[ An equally anxious reply, but is he overthinking it? She might understand - a lot of people would understand. Yet still, he feels an odd lump in his throat. He's glad the gas mask covers up his expression. He wonders if it muffles the tone of his voice.
Involuntarily, he rubs his forehead (just feels the old leather of the mask instead of skin and sighs) as he gestures for Sharon to enter - feeling like he should at least welcome her in before he starts saying whatever he wants. ]
It's still kind of ... well, it isn't 100% face-to-face but still feels better than just... through a connection.
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Date: 2026-04-29 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2026-05-04 02:13 am (UTC)[ It's a pause before he undoes the straps of the mask. His shoulders drop before he pulls it free - his face has become much more fish-like since they last spoke. Gills and fins extending out past his face. Pressed down against his skin thanks to the mask, he lets out a half sigh. Some of his hair even seems like it's starting to fall out in place of scales and more decorative attachments. ]
... okay.
[ A half-sigh. ]
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Date: 2026-05-05 05:41 pm (UTC)I don't know how you stand wearing that thing. It's gotta be hot. [ She pointedly avoids mentioning the changes outright. She's known plenty of Offerings who struggle with what they've become, and the last thing she wants is to press on something that might still hurt.
She steps further into the shop, digging into her tote bag before pulling out a small bundle of biscuits. ] Brought you something to eat. Just the kind you make with mix. [ Add water, mix, bake. ] A little dry, but... [ Her voice trails off as she offers them over, a bit awkward. ]
So, uh... what did you want to talk about?
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Date: 2026-05-06 04:19 am (UTC)[ His head tilts the opposite way as he had made peace with the fact he has to wear it - and hey, it keeps him from having to see how his face is changing. ]
Ah - thanks. [ A glance at the tote bag as he wonders how he thought this was gonna go down. Stand outside, say his bit, then walk back inside? His eyes roll up as he really didn't think it through, but he makes a gesture to have her come into the garage at least. ]
I've been keeping something from you and I felt ... like it was time to come clean about it.
[ The inside of the mechanic's shop is more or less cleaned out. It's more like a hovel he's been trying to live in than anything else. Complete with a metal drum to use to make fire when it gets freezing cold at night. The wrench set in a place of "honor" because it does act as a light and always shines toward the exit. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-05-07 03:24 am (UTC)The moment he says he needs to come clean about something, anxiety spikes hard in her chest. Sharon doesn't step away, but her eyes narrow slightly, caution settling in fast. The last time someone sat her down for a confession, they'd admitted to being part of the cult. ]
Okay. Out with it, then. [ Please. Please don't let this be another cult member. She doesn't think her trust could take a hit like that again. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-05-07 03:39 am (UTC)My son ... he was killed. [ He drops his hands in front of his body, twiddles his thumbs together. ] It is why I fell apart and left everyone around me. [ His gaze drifts down before snapping up so he can look her in the face. ]
The man who killed him... I found out where he was sent to prison. [ His mouth quirks as the fins around his face flare out. ] I worked to be sent there. I worked with a real piece of shit guard... all so I could kill him with my bare hands.
[ He brings his hands together, interfacing his fingers and tries not to make a face about the webbing. ] I destroyed everything just to kill one man [ A beat. ] That is why... nothing is waiting for me back home.
I just... didn't want to lie to you anymore. Lying by omission, anyway.
no subject
Date: 2026-05-08 02:16 am (UTC)—but he couldn't.
She'd seen what losing Alessa had done to Dahlia, how grief had hollowed her out and driven her to madness, but Dahlia had never hunted down the person responsible. Never tried to make the world bleed for it. That might've gone a long way to mending Alessa's heart, to know she'd cared enough to even try.
Murphy burned the rest of his own life to the ground just to kill one man. Sharon is quiet for a long moment, gaze unfocused as she turns it over in her head. Then, finally, she drags a chair across the floor and lowers herself beside him, setting her bag carefully at her feet. ]
I appreciate you telling me. [ Softly. ] It, uh... I can't really say it changes anything. I don't—[ A huff, a frown pulling at her lips. ] I get it. And I don't judge you for it. Not even for not telling me. [ Is that how a normal girl would respond to something like this? ]
I think you did what you had to do. Sometimes that means sacrificing yourself to make sure it gets done. Not many parents would've gone that far. [ Something warm and aching blooms in her chest—not pity, but admiration. ]
I know there are people who'd tell you your son wouldn't have wanted this for you. But they don't get to decide that. They didn't know him, and they certainly don't know how pain can change someone. [ For all anyone knew, Murphy's son craved justice as much as he did. ] Did it help at all?
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