Chapter Text
2 Hours after the Massacre of Sanctum
It had been Indra who finally ended Sheidheda with a gunshot through his head. Emori and Murphy hadn’t been with her. Emori still sat on the steps in front of the closed doors to the palace dinner hall, like a watchdog guarding the dead bodies inside. Murphy watched her from the other side of the hallway. The blame radiated from Emoris body, her eyes were wet with unshed tears and it was a wonder she wasn’t running off to the woods to hide. Murphy was still wondering if, now that Sheidheda was no more, they’ll finally get a day of peace in Sanctum. Remembering how Nikki and Nelson went nuts, he supposed not. So, what happened after just baffled him. He stood off to the side while people came into the hallway, first the Sanctumites, then the Children of Gabriel and finally even some people of Wonkru and some lonely convict named Bobby. All were seeking out Emori to ask her: ask her how they could make themself useful, such as carrying away the dead, cleaning the hall, or digging graves. Emori sat up straighter with every person that came to her and suddenly she stood, on top of the second step so she was just able to look everyone in the eye. She was handing out tasks like she had anything and everything to say around here. Somewhere in between watching her do her newfound job, Murphy noticed Indra standing next to him and nodding approvingly.
“She’ll never be their commander," Indra said, “But right now she is giving them what they need.” When Murphy looked at her questioningly, she elaborated: “Something to do to get their minds of all the chaos.”
So Emoris little leadership role was temporary, nothing to worry about. That was why Murphy made his way to the small crowd and gave her that little clipboard, that she had been carrying around for days, and a pen. She needed it if she was planning a burial.
3 Days after the Massacre of Sanctum
It wasn’t a temporary thing at all. Emori was doing nothing but planning, answering questions and handing out tasks. She had barely slept and if it hadn’t been for Murphy she certainly wouldn’t have eaten a damn thing. He was just about to bring her some fruit bread when he heard people calling loudly from the borderlines of Sanctum. What was going on yet again?
When Murphy made his way to the fields, he saw people emerging from the woods. Clarke, Bellamy, Raven, Echo, Octavia, all of their friends that had been missing and a couple dozen of white clothed people, some of them still kids and even one toddler if Murphy could trust his eyes.
“They are going to live with us”, Clarke said and Octavia added, while holding hands with one of the foreigners: “They are our people too now.”
Murphy just shrugged. He left it to Indra to explain what had been going on in Sanctum and listened as Clarke topped off their chaos with whatever crazy things happened on other planets. Murphy stopped listening when they explained how the crazy cult leader who build that Second Dawn Bunker 200 years ago, was still alive, searching for some stupid key to fight so stupid war. Strange story, he’d thought, and went looking for Emori. She needed food and sleep and now that Clarke was back Emori could finally step down from leading that crazy melting pot of sanctum.
2 Weeks after the Massacre of Sanctum
Only Emori wasn’t stepping down from playing President or Heda or Queen of the Castle or whatever she thought she was. Don’t get him wrong; Murphy saw how great she was doing and he saw how much all those people were looking for her guidance, but Murphy just didn’t fully got how that happened. And he hadn’t been alone with his fiancée for more than a couple of minutes in the past weeks. As soon as she came to their room, she was fast asleep and she was up and around long before the sun woke him up.
Just yesterday Murphy had gone to the farmhouse to ask Clarke why she was hiding in there instead of doing what she always did. And if Clarke wouldn't why couldn’t Bellamy or Octavia step in instead? Indra would also be a great idea, he thought. And he told them so. But all of them looked at him like he was crazy, while they were sitting around the big table eating soup.
“We haven’t told Emori to do that, Murphy," Bellamy said, “Don’t be angry at us.”
“I’m not ..., “ Murphy started, then stopped and started anew. “I’m angry. It’s not her job. She shouldn’t shoulder that. You were always doing that leader-shit.”
“She’s great at it," Clarke said while petting the freaking dog. Murphy just slumped onto the one free stool left around the table.
“At least your army of clones aren’t bugging her too," he said with a sigh.
“They aren’t clones," Octavia chided him, a tad bit annoyed, but without the edge he remembered her always carrying on the tip of her tongue before. Murphy still didn’t get how she was more than 10 years older now. How all of them were at least 1 year older, while in Sanctum only a couple of days had gone by. What a strange world.
“They will do their part. We all will," Clarke explained. “We just situated them around the farmhouse for now, so they won’t be overwhelmed.”
“It’s still hard for us," said Octavia's new beau, while offering Murphy an odd smile. Yeah, yeah, he knew they were still learning this shit. Smiling and so. What fun.
Indra shoved away her empty soup container. "You’re right, she was never supposed to be their commander. I‘ll think about it.“
6 Weeks after the Massacre of Sanctum
Indra thought about it. The outcome though, wasn’t really what Murphy had in mind. Somehow Indra had been chatting all around Sanctum and came up with the stupid idea of an election.
“We need someone to guide us," she had said in front of every single person above the age of fourteen residing in and around Sanctum. “Every one of you is going to write a name on a piece of paper and whoever has the majority will lead us for the next three years until we will elect again.”
Emori came out as the first Chancellor of Sanctum with 512 of 626 votes. Not at all what Murphy had in mind.
Later that night, for the first time in weeks, they lay next to each other in bed, almost naked because of the heat wave that had come upon Sanctum just a couple of days ago. Murphy was kinda bummed about it. Too hot to do anything, even each other.
“You can’t leave me," Emori told him, out of the blue.
“What?” he replied, dumbfounded but too exhausted by the heat to move anything more than his eyes. He watched her from the side.
“I said...” she started again but Murphy interrupted her. “Why should I leave you?!”
“You’ve done it before. On the Ring.”
“Just to keep by the truth, ‘Mori. You left me.”
Emori huffed in annoyance but Murphy found her sweet either way. He would totally be doing her now, if he could just get his tired and heated muscles to move.
“Be it as it may," Emori said - where the hell had she learned to talk like a diplomat? “You can’t leave me because I need you. And I’m pregnant.”
Now that got his muscles to move. He sat up in bed abruptly and looked at her like she was crazy.
“What?”
“I’m not telling you everything twice, John.” Murphy barked out a laugh.
“Bossy now, Miss Chancellor?” He teased and leaned forward to kiss her nose and then her naked belly. How could he have missed the little bump that she had developed, even if she had nearly never time to eat enough. Wait, was she crazy? Being pregnant and not eating was a mighty bad combination, even Murphy knew that, so he got off the bed, despite the heat and all, and ran down to the tavern after kissing Emori again and telling her he would be back in an instant.
He got her some fruits and cookies that stood on the counter but when Delilah's Mom saw him searching for food, she came by and asked, “Can I get you anything?”
“We are getting a baby," he babbled, before he knew what he was doing. “And Emori needs...”
“Oh well. Congratulations.” Miss Workman smiled at him, just a tad bit sad thinking about her own dead daughter. “Let me get something for you.”
6 Months and 3 Weeks after the Massacre of Sanctum
Emori had been rocking the hell out of being pregnant and working at the same time. She had her own office - just the backroom of the tavern for now - since the palace still needed to be rebuilt and nobody had any clue what it should be after that. They certainly had no use for a palace. But that was no priority either way. Housing for all had begun, though it would still take years until everyone had their own place to live, as well as a small hospital that Clarke and Jackson were running with the help of Niylah and some other women of Sanctum and Bardo. Murphy was proud of Emori as he sat in Clarke's hospital looking down at the sweetest thing they’d ever made. His son, Lex, named after his grandfather Alex and maybe even a bit in remembrance of Lexa. Clarke had certainly looked at them with wet eyes after they announced the name a few minutes ago. He was glad she wasn’t angry but instead moved by the sentiment.
They stayed for one night longer in the hospital but Emori and Lex were as well and good as a mother and a baby could be. She had been taken aback just a moment after looking at Lex's second belly button and his split little earlobe, looking at Murphy as if she thought he had anything bad to say about it. Murphy thought it was special and just made him even sweeter so he kissed both little mutations of his son and then Emoris badass hand.
“He’s perfect," he said, stroking over his small head. The blond down was soft below his fingertips. Lex was so little. Emori grinned as big as she could.
Back in their room in the half burned down palace, most of their friends came by to say hello to the baby. Octavia, heavily pregnant herself, and her still-completely-dressed-in-white boyfriend were among the first.
“Levitt needs to see this," she said and sat down on the couch in the corner of the room. Octavia was even smaller than Emori and older, what fun, so the pregnancy wasn’t as easy on her. Murphy brought over the baby for Levitt to watch and learn.
“He looks like our babies, except..." Now Mr. White Guy was watching Lex split ear, “We would have corrected that prior to birth.”
“Don’t listen to him," Murphy said quietly to his son, not really angry because Levitt couldn’t know better and he was here to learn. "He doesn’t know shit.”
“Don’t talk like that in front of the baby,“ Emori chided him from her place in the rocking chair. It was mighty sweet that one of the convicts, Bobby, who played carpenter, had made it especially for her.
“Did I offend it?” Levitt asked.
“Him. It’s a kid, not an object," Octavia explained kindly, shifting her body a bit to take a closer look at Lex and commented with a cheeky smile, that made her look way younger than she was.
“Sweet," she touched her own earlobe. “Makes him edgy. Fits you two.”
- -
Murphy really liked to hold his son. Lex smelled sweet, like warm sugary milk, soft cotton. Underneath the sweetness he smelled like Emori did, back before she started washing herself with flowery soap. Emori had smelled like the desert, warm and vast and full of promises. Lex was tiny. Not exactly smaller than any regular baby, as Jackson told him, but to Murphy he felt really really small, even weeks after he was born. There was nobody in this world more important to protect than his little son.
When he had finally let go of his sleeping son, leaving him softly snoring in his crib by the bed, Murphy crawled beneath the blankets. Emori was already there, her gaze still lingered on Lex, but when Murphy grabbed her badass hand, she looked at him.
„Fatherhood looks very good on you,“ she said before nuzzling into his shoulder. She was soft and sweet those days, like the birthing had made her even more tender, more gentle than she already was before. Murphy still remembered her, suspicious and alone in the desert. She had fascinated him from the very first second. Murphy was glad he had been witness to her become the woman she was now. Emori had learned to trust, to love. It had been her back on the Ring who told them that it was nice to eat with a family. It had slipped and she had been petrified of their reaction, but Bellamy had taken her words and declared them true. They made something much bigger out of their group of misfits. Murphy still blamed Emoris heart for getting brothers and sisters. Sanctum had softened her again. She was a badass politician, which was way hotter than he had expected - but she was gentle. She cared about her people, about all people. Emori cared about humanity. Who would have thought looking at the lonely girl in the desert? But for real, who would have thought, Ark Prisoner John Murphy could ever be a man to cuddle his baby for hours on a moon lightyears away from Earth.
„Look at you, ‘Mori,“ he said, kissing her head, willing her go look up him „Hottest Mom of the Universe.“
She lightly slapped his naked chest - what, a baby needed skin on skin, he read that in some old book while Emori had been pregnant.
„I love him so much,“ Emori said after some louder breath of their son, slowly looking up at Murphy.
„Yeah, me too,“ Murphy offered, softly stroking over Emoris back. He pecked her cheek in a sudden burst of affection. „Thank you.“
„What … uhm,“ she stopped, before siting up to better be able to look at him. She was softly scratching his arm. It felt nice. „What are you thanking me for?“
„For birthing him, I guess.“
„You guess?“
„Yeah,“ Murphy sat up to, he studied Emoris face, tired but oh so overflowing with hormones that made her happy. He was happy too. Unbelievably so! „You are the best thing that happened to me!“
„Oh John,“ Emori said and suddenly there were tears in her eyes. Hormones, as he said. “I gotta tell you something.“
„You can‘t be pregnant again,“ he joked. He wanted her to laugh at him, to playfully slap him. They just started being intimate again a couple of days ago. Emori had to heal, even though the pregnancy and birth had been easy, as she put it. Murphy just thought she was a badass queen for doing all of that.
„I‘m not,“ she sniffled and grabbed his hand. „I … if it was ever a question of saving you or Lex … I would choose Lex, John. I‘m so sorry.“
„Do we need saving, ‘Mori?“ First things first. He had to make sure both of them were safe and sound. That was the most important task of his life.
„No, but John. Don‘t you listen? I love him more.“ She was grabbing his shoulders, suddenly crying. For a moment Murphy didn‘t knew if she needed consoling or just chocolate. Cake really helped her mood swings by the end of her pregnancy.
„As you should, baby. Shh,“ Murphy said, rubbing her arms in a soothing motion. „I want you too.“
„Honestly?“
„Of course.“ Emori knew about his past. About the way his mom started hating him after his father died. Murphy wanted nothing more than for Emori to love Lex more than him. If that would ensure him forever being protected by her, Murphy was fully on board.
„But …“
„No, buts. You love me right?“
„Yes, you know I do. I will love you forever. You know, right?“
„Yeah, ‘course I do, ‘Mori.“
„But I‘d choose him.“
„Me too,“ he said, surprising himself. But it was true. He couldn‘t really pinpoint if he loved Lex more than Emori but if it ever came to the choice, he knew exactly who he‘d safe first. Emori nodded. He hoped she would stop feeling bad about how much she loved their little son. There was nothing to be sorry for. He kissed her head, lucky to have found her in the wide wide desert more than a century ago. Murphy hugged her to his chest, kissing her head, before letting himself fall back into the cushions. Emori fell with him, their bodies pressed closely together, they noses almost touching by the way her chin was propped on his breastbone.
„Are we good parents?“ she asked in a whisper.
„The best,“ Murphy grinned sure they did this shit right - parenting came almost naturally, who would have thought. He caressed Emoris back, slowly opening her BH. When she sad up, he started to run his hands over her breast, grinning up at her when he started himself to harden against her backside.
„Let‘s make some more, yeah?“ he said, before grabbing her in a heated kiss, still grinning because he was fucking happy with the life they had.