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they’ve been on the ring for two months, three weeks, and five days. raven’s been keeping count. someone has to, to make sure they don’t go insane. they’ve all found ways to keep busy, be useful.
well. most of them.
murphy has taken to wandering the halls like a ghost. whenever emori would split off with raven, or gossip with harper, or spar with echo, murphy would pick his way through the unoccupied rooms of the ring.
he would find some small treasures, occasionally. lots of books, a few stuffed toys, extra clothes. it wasn’t easy. everything worth finding was always hidden.
that’s why he’d started looking under mattresses, loose panels on the wall, the floor. if they could keep octavia hidden for 15 years, then they must have some merit. he’d started finding the good stuff, then. dirty magazines, makeshift knives, and (his best yet) a small box filled with joints, paper, and a shit ton of weed.
the next day he managed to find a small lighter tucked into a shoe. he nearly sparked up then and there, but had the (genius) idea to find monty.
they had been nearly friends before. they both grew up on farm station, and monty was known for his ability to procure certain herbs, as he would say. they had smoked together a grand total of twice before murphy got locked up. it had been fun. monty was loose, giggling at every little thing. murphy even managed to relax as the weed mellowed his usual anger.
when he found monty, he was tending to his algae farm. murphy still bristled at the mention of it, after his incident with the first batch.
“oh hey, murphy.” monty said as he noticed him lurking in the doorway. the rest of the group had grown accustomed to murphy’s vaugely shadowy presence in the dark corners of the ring. “did you need something? hungry, maybe?” monty looked a little hopeful.
murphy just scoffs, shaking his head. “if i ever eat that stuff willingly, please just float me.”
“a little dramatic,” monty mutters as he turns back to tending to the crops. “are you just here to insult my algae?”
“as much as i would love to, no. i have a little gift,” he pulls the bag from where it was hidden in his pocket, waving it teasingly in front of monty’s face.
monty looks up from his algae when he see murphy’s hand enter his vision. he catches sight of the little, green flowers, wrapped neatly in plastic. “is that–“
“yep.” murphy says, popping the ‘p’. “what d’ya say, cheech?”
“dude. this is, like, the best news ever.” monty looks way to excited to be looking at a tiny bag of shitty space weed. “do you know what this means?”
murphy’s confused now. “it means we can get high?” he guesses.
“no! well, yes, but this is better. this still has seeds in it. we can grow our own.” monty takes the bag from murphy’s hands, gently. he’s cradling it a bit, and murphy is worried space really is driving them crazy after all. he walks it over to a crowded desk, filled with vials of algae and pages of notes. he opens the bag carefully, like he really is opening a present. he picks through the bud with a small pair of tweezers until he manages to pluck out the few remaining seeds. “it’ll take a while, but if i can get these germinated, we’ll have more plants in about six months.”
“dude. you are officially my favorite person in space.”
monty just laughs and goes back to the seeds. murphy pulls one of the joints and the lighter from his pocket, waving it in front of monty’s face again. “meet me at the starboard window when you’re done nerding out.”
monty nods, waving him off. he turns his attention fully back to the seeds. murphy tries to make sense of what he’s doing, but it’s lost on him. he should have paid more attention in earth skills. (maybe if pike wasn’t such a dick.)
murphy makes his way lazily to their designated spot. he knew monty, and he knew those seeds would keep him occupied for a while. he takes his time, tracing his finger along the cold metal wall of the ship.
when he reaches the window, he doesn’t see anything at first. the cold, familiar emptiness is the only thing filling the window. he waits, as the ship turns. slowly, the view of the moon comes into place. the shades of gray rock, smatters of light and dark, speckled with white. he sits down, watching the ship spin its orbit. he counts seven rotations by the time monty joins him.
“took you long enough.” he snarks, plucking the joint and lighter from his pockets. there’s a vent right next to the window, and monty had disabled the fire protection system. fail safe plan.
“sorry, didn’t want to mess them up.” monty shrugs as he sits down across from murphy.
murphy doesn’t answer, just flicks the lighter and lights the joint. he inhales the smoke deep into his lungs and holds it there for a moment. as he exhales, he coughs hard. it’s been years since he smoked, and he isn’t used to the burning feeling in his lungs anymore. he passes it to monty as his coughing subsides. monty grabs it and pinches it between his fingers. he takes a smaller hit than murphy did, not coughing as much on the exhale.
“not bad.” he says between small coughs. murphy hums. he took a big enough hit that he’s already feeling the effects. his limbs feel heavy, like he’s got weight wrapped around his ankles and wrists. monty passes the joint back and murphy takes another hit. smaller, this time. the smoke scratches the back of his throat and fills his lungs. he turns to exhale into the vent behind him.
they sit like that for a while, passing the joint back and forth. there are small flecks of ash surrounding the space between them. they get smeared into the gray metal whenever one of them shifts around. by the time they burn it out, both of them are loose and giggling. they exchange small jokes and stories. monty had started in on some story about getting high on the ark. at least, murphy’s pretty sure that’s what he’s talking about. to be honest, he hasn’t been following along, just watching the ship spin around.
“yeah, and then jasper–“ he stopped suddenly at his dead best friend’s name. monty takes in a sharp breath, like saying it knocked the wind out of him. he looks away, but murphy can see the tears rimming his red eyes. he changes the subject and clears his throat. “how’s emori?”
“she’s- she’s good.” murphy doesn’t know how to say that he hasn’t seen her in two days. she’s been following raven around like a lost puppy, leaving murphy behind. “how’s harper?”
this seems to cheer monty up a little. “she’s amazing.” he looks a little far away when he’s speaking. murphy knows that look. he saw it on himself when emori and him got together. hopeless devotion. adoring. love-sick idiot. “it’s so nice up here with her. we finally get to slow down a little. i know it won’t be easy up here, but i feel like she makes it easier. we don’t have to fight for our lives everyday, y’know?”
murphy just nods. he feels like his head is full of cotton, and his eyes are squinted as he watches monty talk. they fall into silence for a bit. they stare out the window, watching the moon drift in and out of vision as the ship rotates. murphy can’t stop thinking. he keeps hearing monty say jasper’s name. he keeps hearing himself say how much he hated him, how he should have killed him.
“i’m sorry.” he blurts out. there are tears forming in his eyes and he blinks them away hurriedly.
monty tilts his head, confused. “what?”
“i’m sorry. about… about jasper.” he’s still staring at the moon. he doesn’t want to see the look on monty’s face right now. “i tried to kill him. i wouldn’t shut up about how much i hated him. i didn’t mean it. not really.” he takes a breath and holds it. he waits for monty to say something, but the silence just stretches between them. finally, he looks at monty.
he’s crying. there are tears streaming quietly down his cheeks, and he pulls in sharp breaths through his nose. “does it ever–“ he cuts himself off with a sob. “does it ever get better? you– your dad, your mom. mbege. do you ever not miss them?”
if he wasn’t so high, he’d be storming away in anger at the mention of his parents. his best friend, practically attached to him at the hip. it makes his chest feel like its been cracked open. he just shakes his head at monty’s question. “you just- you keep moving. i guess.” if he’s being honest with himself, he’s never let himself grieve them.
when he found his mother, choked to death on a pool of her own vomit, he grieved the only way he knew how. anger. he was so angry at everyone. he hated his father for getting arrested, hated jaha for killing him. hated his mother for killing herself. hated himself. he didn’t even really register what he was doing until he felt the heat of the fire on his face and hands pulling him away from the scene of the crime.
monty nods, turning his head away to wipe at his tears. “i know you didn’t hate jasper. you were just… angry. hurting. we’ve all been through so much, and everyone handles stuff differently.”
murphy fights back a scoff. if his eyes weren’t so squinted, monty surely would have seen the eye roll he throws his way. he leans his head back against the cool wall and lets his eyes slip shut. he doesn’t really thing he’s ever handled anything. just pushed it away with anger and hatred and sarcastic comments. he hears monty stand, with a bit of a struggle. “go get some sleep, murphy.” he says, patting him on the shoulder. murphy listens for the sound of monty’s footsteps retreating toward his room.
once again, he’s surrounded by silence. that’s one thing he would never miss about space. the heavy, oppressive silence. even when the ark was full to capacity, it was still too quiet. he cracks his eyes open a bit to stare at the moon again. he counts the rotations in his head to distract himself, but he can’t stop thinking.
one. his mother trading their rations for moonshine.
two. his father brushing sweaty hair away from his face. his words coming through the haze of fever everything’s okay, john. he said. i’m gonna help you, john. that was the last time he every saw him.
three. finding out his best friend died at the hands of the people who tortured him. bellamy told him, with all the gory details.
four. feeling the noose tighten around his neck.
five. watching them hold back mbege as bellamy kicked the box from under his reet. hunting down charlotte as revenge. watching her die, because of him.
six. being tortured, twice. the sickness he unknowingly spread to camp.
seven. hanging bellamy for revenge. shooting raven. killing people.
his eyes are slipping shut again. too tired to move. too tired to count up the rest of his sins.
that’s how bellamy finds him in the morning. passed out against the window, dried tears on his cheeks.