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The first few months were the easiest; alone on a ship in space, peaceful, content. It was nice. They had established routine. There was no fighting, no war. They were happy.
The first time they had a real argument was nine months in. Harper had forgotten to monitor the algae growth in sector C and they'd nearly lost the entire harvest to a lethal fungi. In a mixture of anger and anxiety, Monty had said she would be better off asleep with the others, and immediately regretted his words. After almost a year alone in space with no one but each other, the isolation had finally gotten to them.
Yet, it took less than a week for the two to reconcile, having almost teared up at the sight of the other so down. Three months later, Monty recorded his first video.
"Hey guys, it's been about a year since you all went to bed. Not much to report really..."
And there wasn't much. Space was quiet. Monty had managed to get the geological equipment working and they could monitor the surface of Earth, but there wasn't much to do apart from wait. Harper found an old set of playing cards and a game of chess missing its white king to pass the time. Surprisingly, the prison ship had its own library of sorts, although it served its purpose as an archive. Documents, letters, photographs, film, music, manuscripts and journal entries littered the walls, dating back to before 2052. They quickly became acquainted with the film and music of the 21st century and got an idea of what life was like before the bombs. It seemed nice. They wished they'd get that someday. But when they got lonely, the two would wander the halls of the cryo pods and stare at the sleeping faces of their friends.
Harper linked her fingers through Monty's cold ones after a few minutes of silence. "What do you think they'll say when they wake up?"
Neither looked away from the pods. He'd often wondered that - what their faces would tell, what they would say. Would they be happy? Sad? Perhaps they'd feel hurt that they didn't tell them. Perhaps they should have told them. But deep down he knew their friends would have tried to stop them, or stayed awake themselves. He couldn't have that. Monty shook his head, gripping Harper's hand firmly, "I don't know, but it'll be enough to just hear their voices again."
-
It was some time after the first year that it happened.
Monty awoke to the sound of retching. Jolting out of bed, worried for what felt like the first time in years, he followed the sounds at a fast jog. Bleary eyed, he turned a corner and found Harper slouched over the toilet, gagging as she pushed her hair back with one hand.
He ran to her side and held back her hair as she threw up once more. Panic started to rise in his chest. It was tight; a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time. "Are you okay?" He didn't know what to do. They had no doctor, no medicine. "What's wrong? Harper?"
"Monty," Harper slouched against the wall, looking up at him fondly, "I'm pregnant."
-
Seven months passed until they decided. It was the two year anniversary.
"You know," Harper broke the silence, "I think I can see a patch of green."
They were staring out the window at the orange sphere that was Earth. "Yeah?" Monty asked softly.
"Yeah."
They lapsed back into comfortable silence, tangled to one another, Harper's head resting on his shoulder. Then, "Jordan."
"What?"
"I think Jordan's a good name. Boy or girl."
It was so sudden it took Monty a moment, but then he looked down at the girl at his shoulder. He smiled into her hair. She didn't see it. God, he loved her. That warm feeling rose in his chest and overcame the other, more sombre one that threatened to spill from his eyes. Biting back a sob, he nodded, "Yeah that's good... that... that's good."
-
Two months later, Monty found himself panicked once more. All twenty-eight books, forty-three films and sixty-five documents on pregnancy, birth, and children couldn't have prepared him for this moment. Running through the empty halls carrying all the bottles, sponges and towels he could find, he had never been so scared. He skidded around the corner and dashed back to Harper's side where she lay on the bed breathing heavily, hands gripped tightly to its metal sides.
"I've got the water and the towels and sponges and... oh god," he tipped the items out in front of him, "I forgot the scissors." He made to get up again, but Harper grabbed his arm and stopped him.
"No, just," she breathed deeply, "stay."
He ran a hand through his hair nervously, "Oh god, what if something goes wrong? What if they're stuck, or the wrong way or aren't ready? What if... what if..."
"Breath," Harper said calmly - though the irony was not lost on her.
Monty took a breath. "Maybe we should have woken Abby."
"Monty-"
"We agreed not Clarke, and Jackson might still be injured, but-"
"Monty," Harper interrupted loudly, "we're not waking Abby. I can do this. We can do this. Jordan will be fine. I will be fine."
Monty nodded, albeit reluctantly.
-
Two hours later on the 10th of May 2158, Jordan Jasper Green was born, and Monty felt like the happiest man alive.
-
The first time was when Jordan was three-and-a-half. After refusing to go to sleep, he had asked his parents to tell him a story.
"Like in the books," he said, nodding to the stack of children's books Harper had found him in the archive.
"What kind of story do you want to hear, kiddo?" Monty asked, crouching to sit beside his son's cot.
Jordan thought for a moment. It looked like a lot of work. Then, he looked up, his voice suddenly softer, more curious, "where did they come from?"
Harper and Monty exchanged a look. A look that carried the weight of nearly thirteen years. They knew of whom he spoke. Where to start? Harper sat down beside Monty and continued to look gravely at her partner. "Well," she began, "years before you were born, one-hundred prisoners were sent from space to the ground - to Earth."
Jordan smiled, shaking his head, "Silly mommy. Earth is dead."
"It wasn't. We were one of them. One of the hundred."
And they'd told him stories of the world that had once flourished. Of Bellamy and Clarke, of Raven, Octavia, Echo and Emori, even Murphy, and of course Jasper. As he grew older, the stories became more detailed, sometimes darker, sometimes lighter, and soon enough, they became his favourite past time - along with wandering the halls of cryo pods.
-
"Dad! Dad!" Jordan came running into the control room kicking his ball and Monty looked up from his computer screens at the sound of his six-year-old's voice, "Can you play with me?"
Monty glanced back at the blue screens. They read the diagnostics of life on Earth. There wasn't much to read. "Where's your mother?"
"Mom's jogging. She told me to find you."
"Of course she did," he muttered under his breath, getting out of his chair and stretching. "Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt."
Fifteen minutes later, Monty realised six-year-olds had a lot more energy than expected - and a lot more skill too. Or perhaps that was just Jordan. Oh he was proud. Breathing quickly, he held up his hands in mock surrender. "You win, kiddo." He started to walk back to the control room when Jordan caught up with him, dribbling the soccer ball with ease.
"Before you go," Jordan started, kicking the soccer ball up in the air with a simple flick and catching it quickly, "can you tell me another story?"
Monty hesitated, but at a pleading look from his son, he caved. "Alright. Just one. Then you go run with your mom, deal?"
Grinning, the kid ran down the hall to the cryo pod hall, inputing the code to the door and running in. Once Monty made his way over, Jordan started talking, "Can you tell me one about them this time?" He gestured to Bellamy and then to Clarke across the row.
Monty raised a brow, "Not Murphy?"
The kid shook his head, "Not today."
Shrugging, Monty sat down on the floor besides Jordan and wracked his memory for a story he hadn't yet told him about the two. "Well..." he began, "you remember how Clarke left after Mount Weather?"
Jordan nodded, "You told me. Bellamy was really sad."
"Yeah, well, three months later, we found her. She'd been taken by the Ice King - before he was a king."
"Ooh yeah. He was a banished Prince!" Jordan exclaimed excitedly. "Why'd he take her?"
Monty paused. They'd skipped the gory details in the stories told to their six-year-old. "Well, she was wanted by the Queen... because her people believed she had powers and the prince believed he'd be welcomed back if he brought her to her. But that's beside the point. Bellamy and I had just found the survivors from farm station - where we found your grandmother - when he spotted Clarke across the field being held hostage by the banished prince."
Jordan's face filled with dread despite the sleeping body of the protagonist of his stories right beside him.
"The army of the Ice Kingdom was marching through the field and he couldn't save her then, but you know what he did?"
"What?" Jordan sat up straighter, glued to the story.
"He disguised himself as a soldier of the Ice Kingdom and walked right through the army to find her. But when he did, the prince was ready for him. He let him live, but took Clarke away. That's when I found him."
"Why did he let him go?"
"Well Clarke had been putting up a fight the whole way-"
"Of course." Jordan nodded, knowing all about her strong will.
"-and she agreed to stop if he let Bellamy go." Monty thought for a moment. Bellamy had never told him in detail why Roan had let him go, but he could imagine. Those two had been to hell and back together and nothing could kill one without something happening to the other. "I found him dragging himself through the forest to find her. And you know what he said? We can't lose her. He wouldn't give up. Not even if it cost him everything he had to find her."
Jordan looked from Bellamy to Clarke, adoration in his eyes at the two heroes. "They really love each other, don't they?"
"Yeah. They do." He said it immediately, but as the words left his mouth, Monty's eyes flitted over to the pod where Echo slept, and he cleared his throat. "They've been through a lot together."
"I want something like that someday." Jordan said wistfully.
"Your mother and I would do anything to protect you too." Monty reassured him, wrapping an arm around the small boy's shoulder.
Jordan shook his head. "That's not the same." Then he looked up at his dad and smiled, "I can't wait to meet someone one day."
Monty smiled back and ruffled his hair, but a nagging feeling grew in his stomach. Jordan hadn't chosen this life. He would never have a normal childhood. He pushed it down by reminding himself they would all wake in two years. Jordan could play with Madi, or some other kids his age. He'd be normal. Their lives would be normal. Just two more years. Two more.
-
The ten year mark rolled around and nothing changed; Earth was still dead.
"It's going to be fine," he'd told Harper, aware that it was most likely a lie. As the years passed, they all knew the truth. Earth wasn't coming back. There were days when he found Harper sitting silently, simply staring out the window at their dead home, or Jordan kicking his soccer ball against the wall alone. And there were days when he sat in the cryo hall, staring at their faces, coming to the realisation he may never hear their voices again.
-
Jordan was 18 when Monty began to look for another solution; twenty years after they'd all gone to sleep. Frustrated and desperate, he had thrown himself into work, researching hythylodium and its effects on planets. Coming short of anything of use, he'd found himself in the cryo hall ranting to Raven about how she'd know what to do, when he suddenly realised.
"Of course," he closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he hit his forehead with his fist, "you did know. Raven, you super genius. Eligius 3. They have to be somewhere."
As he spent hours over the computer, trying to hack into the file piece by piece, he often found himself saying, "They have to be. They have to be."
-
A year passed, and then two. Monty continued to work the problem everyday. Harper knew she couldn't stop him. She often thought about waking Raven, just for a day. She'd know what to do. Those two could crack that file together in no time, but she knew they couldn't wake her. They couldn't wake anyone. She knew their friends would never let them bear the burden alone. But still, she didn't stop Jordan, when one day he looked awful close to opening Raven's pod. Their son was an adult now, and he knew the strain that the pressure put on his father.
Jordan walked slowly down the hall, eyebrows furrowed as he looked to each of the faces of the heroes he had grown up around but never truly met. Murphy would help alleviate some of the stress with a snarky one liner. Shaw might know something more about Eligius 3. Bellamy and Clarke would take the burden no matter what; they would know what to do in any situation. He got to Raven and paused. He stepped closer and looked at the sleeping woman.
"You'd know what to do," he whispered, knowing she couldn't hear him, but wishing anyway. "You'd help Dad." He brushed his hand over the cold glass. "And Mom... she'd... she'd just be happy to talk to you again." A tear fell down his cheek and he brushed it away with the other hand.
From the entrance to the hall, Harper stood leaned against the wall. She watched in silence as Jordan inched closer to the OPEN CHAMBER button. Every part of her knew it was wrong. Raven would solve everything but they couldn't condemn her to this life they had chosen. But there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind that told her, if she just stood here, Raven would be back. She'd have her best friend. Monty would have a partner. Jordan would have someone other than his parents.
He reached out and was inches away from the button when Harper found it in herself to push those thoughts back down. It was wrong. It was selfish. "Jordan." She spoke firmly, but a part of her cried out in anguish as she did so.
He jumped at her voice, not expecting to find her watching him. He hung his head low. "I just thought... I just wanted..."
"I know," Harper was crying now. She crossed the room and hugged her boy, the two stood sobbing in the quiet hall. "I know."
-
There were too many times when they had been tempted. Abby when Jordan fell ill as a child, Bellamy and Clarke when they'd realised Earth wasn't coming back, Madi when Jordan needed a friend, Raven when the file seemed the impossible, Murphy or Emori for a game of cards, Miller to just simply talk. But they never did, because they couldn't make that choice for them; they didn't chose this life. And the two parents had soon come to the realisation that neither did Jordan. He had argued for so long when they brought up the subject, but after he lost, the family sat crying, huddled together for the entire night.
"We'll see you again," Harper reassured him, holding her son's hand tightly.
Monty nodded in agreement, "and when we do, you'll be there. You'll have a home, and people, and..." he trailed off.
Jordan was crying. "I don't want to say goodbye. I love you, mom, dad."
"We love you too. That's why we have to do this." Harper brushed his hair back one last time and kissed his forehead.
"And this isn't goodbye," Monty sounded like he was trying to convince himself, "we'll always be with you, kiddo. No matter what."
In their silence, the three seemed to exchange more than words could. Then, "may we meet again."
"May we meet again."
It was a long day, and when the pod had finally hissed to a close, the two had broken down, sobbing for weeks until they no longer had tears to give. Though they had tried to believe they'd see him again, they both knew they would most likely never speak to their son again. By the time he woke, they'd be long gone.
-
The ship felt quieter in the following years. The two found themselves often trying to account for someone who wasn't there. Sometimes Harper would find her feet had carried her to his room, or Monty would say something out loud and look up at the chair Jordan used to occupy by his side, only to realise no one was there.
One night as the two lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, Harper said softly, "He'll be so happy - awkward, but happy."
Monty didn't reply, but he smiled to himself in the dark as he imagined Jordan's first interaction with their friends. The dork would probably be smiling the whole time although no one knew who he was.
"And Bellamy and Clarke will take care of him."
If there was something that would ease his worry, it was that. Those two had proven what they'd do if anything that got between them and their children, and together... well Jordan would be just fine.
-
In her final years, Harper had began a slow descent into sickness, but she never agreed to wake Abby. She was selfless to the end. She knew what it was - knew that she couldn't do anything to stop it - and made sure she lived her life to the fullest. But when her health had declined drastically and she eventually passed away, Monty knew nothing could have prepared him to hear her take her final breath. He'd felt so entirely empty, and when he filmed the last video for Jordan, he knew what he had to do. The coordinates had been set. Harper had died knowing her son would live on a planet. A planet like their own. A planet with peace.
Stopping the video, Monty queued the clips and wrote a note for Jordan. He would be happy. Doing one final sweep of the ship the three - now one - had called and made home for nearly fifty years, he made sure everything was right. He placed Jordan's ball on his seat, set the chess set for the next person, rearranged the cards, tidied the archive, tucked every bed, swept every corner, turned off every light, set Jordan's pod to open first in seventy years, and finally, stopped the algae farm.
Monty walked slowly through the ship and into the airlock, settling down beside Harper's wrapped up body. She had passed earlier that night. Entering the code, he watched as the airlock sealed and CO2 flooded into the sealed room. Classical music played through the silent halls. He closed his eyes and felt nothing but peace as he held Harper's hand, slowly drifting away. Jordan would never have to find them. As his heart gave a final beat, the airlock opened and the two were swept out into the vast open planes of space.
Together, in their final moments, they drifted as the ship slowly vanished from sight and into darkness. They had lived a full and happy life, and in a world where every day had tried to turn them into a monster, they had truly been the good guys.