A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it's been forever. I'm officially on winter break now, so hopefully, the goal is to get a good bit of story up in the next few weeks! There are a few feel-good chapters ahead, but I'm excited to see everyone happy- for at least a little while. The goal is to get as much done as possible before February, so hopefully lots of updates between now and then.

The Go-Sci Ring: Day 92

Harper slid out from under the sheets, careful not to wake Monty as she left. Smiling at the sight of his dark, tousled hair against the pillowcase, she makes a mental note to remind him that it might be time for a haircut. She had trimmed it a few times before, but it never ceased to amaze her just how fast it grew.

Tugging on a sports' bra, she made a quick evaluation of her body. Training with Echo and Emori had hardened her muscles the same way training with Lincoln had, and though the algae was always enough to satisfy, it certainly kept them all from overindulging. Her muscles were defined beneath her skin, and she admired them for a moment. She felt strong.

She and Echo had gained a healthy respect for one another, though their interactions were usually limited to the time they spent together in the gym. She admired her hardness, her ferocity, and her loyalty, but there never seemed to be enough opportunities to approach the other woman. Harper figured that if Echo wanted a friend, she would have placed herself in the same spaces. Since she hadn't, Harper figured it was best to give the other woman her space.

In Emori, on the other hand, she had found a true friend. With only seven of them aboard the Ring, finding commonalities was easier than any of them might have imagined, but the simple fact of being stuck in space with someone they loved gave them a shared sense of understanding that was difficult to talk about with anyone else. It wasn't exactly "girl talk," but they still enjoyed the little bit of relief it was to talk about their relationship to someone who understood, even if that understanding was still limited.

Harper slid open the hallway door and slipped out into the hall, watching the lights along the walkway at her feet flicker on to illuminate the path to their closet gym. Despite her hand, or perhaps because of it, Emori was a formidable sparring partner. Weakness was not tolerated on the ground- she simply had to be stronger. So she was.

But today, Harper needed to win. The stress of the last week had died down now that Monty and Murphy were getting along again, at least passably, but Harper still felt a rolling energy knotted in her stomach. She still blamed herself for Monty's hands not healing all the way.

If Abby had been here, or Jackson, or Clark or any competent doctor, he would still have his sense of touch. They could have healed the nerve damage.

What made it worse was that, after all the time she had spent reading manuals, she realized very plainly that there had been ways to ease the nerve damage, or at least treat it sooner. If she had known anything about medicine, she could have saved his hands. By saving his hands, she could have prevented the fallout between Monty and Murphy, and they would all be talking to the Bunker by now.

If only she had known how to treat him sooner.

If only she had loved him sooner, maybe he wouldn't hold on to so much guilt about Jasper.

If only she had tried to convince Jasper, actually tried, maybe he would have come with them. Maybe he would still be alive. Maybe Monty would still have his best friend.

She tried to stop the swirl of thoughts in her head, but Harper knew it was no use; only a long, hard run and some sparring would clear her head. She knew Monty didn't blame her for those things, and neither did the others.

It didn't make it any easier to forgive herself.

Opening the door to the gym, Harper saw Emori running along the treadmill in a tank top and shorts, her hand unbandaged and swinging beside her body. Harper tried not to look taken aback.

Even at her freest, drunk and dancing in the moonlight after their first batch of moonshine, Emori always kept herself covered, especially her hand. Though the other residents of the Ring had often seen Murphy and Emori in the afterglow of sex: Murphy shirtless and laughing, Emori was always at least loosely dressed, hand carefully covered. This new freeness was almost unsettling, but certainly welcome.

Emori had found a home in the Ring that was so unlike anything she'd ever known, and for the first time, the weight of that really struck Harper. The girl who had been an outsider her whole life, who held such a sense of self-loathing based on the way she was born, this woman who had fought against the entire world, now felt safe enough, secure enough, to uncover herself, even if it was in the privacy of the gym in the earliest hours of the morning.

Emori didn't particularly like running. She often felt she'd done too much of it her whole life. But there was something wonderfully distracting in the rhythmic slam of her feet against the belt that felt just right this morning.

She stiffened when she heard the door slide open, but relaxed almost imperceptibly when she realized it was Harper.

Harper.

She had a lot of respect for that woman. Never one to back down, always up for a fight, and had the courage to look her own darkness in the face. Emori was still learning to do that, some days.

Gradually, she slowed the treadmill, and hopped onto the ground, painfully aware that her hand was unbound, but thankful that the other woman had refrained from staring. Sweat pricking against her temples, Emori smiled as she saw the tension beneath Harper's shoulders.

She wanted to fight.

Good.

The stresses between their significant others were not lost on either woman, and now that the air was cleared between them, they finally felt like they could return to their old routines.

Harper wasn't sure what Bellamy had said to soothe Murphy's hurt and put his ego in check, and Emori didn't know how Bellamy had reminded Monty that Jasper's decisions were his own, but that those decisions didn't mean Jasper didn't love them, and that Monty needed to have new friendships- not just for his sanity, but for all their survival. That tolerance wasn't going to cut it up here. That they had to be a team.

But even though neither knew exactly what took place in the conversations, they knew enough to know that the fight was over and that they could return to sparring without worrying about offending their lover. It was good to be back, but that didn't mean all the tension was gone.

Both Harper and Emori were fiercely protective, and even though they knew there was no real quarrel, their prides would not let them lose easily this morning.

As Emori wrapped her hand and braided her hair, Harper stretched in preparation for their match, folding her body into itself as she mentally drilled herself against Emori's fighting style.

Finally, Harper and Emori both lowered into position, and they sparred.

Twenty minutes and three matches later, the two women left sore, bloodied, and bruised. Harper had a split lip and a flurry of green bruises across her legs and arms, and Emori's hips and legs were already flowering into purple splotches. Exhausted, they parted ways in the hall, throwing back one last look of admiration before they turned back to their rooms.

It was a tough fight. Harper won.

Emori was sitting at the edge of the pond when Bellamy walked into the Algae Farm. Her hair hung loosely down her back, wavy from the braid she had worn sparring this morning. Though he couldn't see it from behind, a spool of wire sat in her lap, and she was fiddling with it as she sang under her breath. Bellamy had never heard her sing before. Even Murphy had only ever caught the end of a song.

She looked happy. Bellamy wondered the last time she had been happy on Earth. He wondered how much happiness he had already missed up here.

He had only visited the Algae Farm a handful of times, never able to bring himself too close to the others, though he wouldn't admit it, even to himself.

As pitiful as it made him feel, seeing them happy and safe hurt in ways he didn't know how to handle. He was glad they were together, but he felt like an imposter, like he could never be worthy of that peace.

The dock groaned beneath his boots, and Emori's singing stopped as she turned to face him.

"Bellamy. How's the green stuff?" Her mouth was flat, but a smile hid behind her eyes as she gestured toward the thin crackers in his hands.

Murphy had been experimenting with texture, and this week's experiment was small bars with crunchy pieces of algae embedded throughout. It wasn't much of an improvement, but everyone appreciated it significantly more than Murphy's attempts to make a palatable soup.

Bellamy's lips twitched as he fought back a full smile. "The green stuff is pretty good, one of his better recipes."

Emori seemed unfazed, but Bellamy knew she was glowing from his praise of Murphy. It wasn't hard to see how much she loved him.

"Mind if I sit?"

The question seemed to take Emori by surprise, even though she must have realized he would ask. But Bellamy simply hadn't made a habit of interacting with any of them since they'd arrived in space, so it was still a strange adjustment to suddenly see him everywhere.

Without an answer, Emori patted the space beside her on the dock, and Bellamy lowered himself to the ground.

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Emori returned to the wire in her lap. Twisting the wire in intricate coils, a bird was beginning to take shape beneath her fingers.

Bellamy was taken aback by the detail of the feathers, and more than a little impressed by how much she managed to do, even with her deformed hand. He tried not to seem surprised, but he knew it must have shown in his expression, because Emori flipped the bird over to reveal the silvery wire that coiled along the bird's breast.

"Is it a raven?" Bellamy asked, his analysis thrown by the light feathers along its underside.

Emori glanced to the side and the left corner of her lip turned up, "Actually, it's a mockingbird."

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. The name was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. His brow furrowed for a moment while he thought.

Suddenly, his eyes widened and he shot a look to Emori, "They echo back songs, right? People would sing to them and they'd sing back?"

A warm smile spread across Emori's face, all smugness gone and pleased he knew about the bird. So Space Kru knows something after all. The bird was for Harper, though now that he mentioned it, she thought she might like to make a raven for Raven.

"It helps me keep busy. Even though there is plenty to do up here, it gives me something else to do just for me. It reminds me of the Earth. Of my brother."

Emori had collected found things from an early age. Such was the life for scavengers. They were her playthings, and her brother had taught her how to see animals and plants and people hidden within objects. It just took the right touch to coax them out. She'd always been afraid her had would keep them hidden inside, but with a little persistence, the figures always crept out from the scraps.

The revelation was one of the most intimate details Bellamy had ever gotten from Emori. That said, he also suspected it was her way of nudging him to find something to occupy his time. What's going to keep me from going crazy up here? The thought beat against his temples, but he didn't have an answer. He wasn't sure if he ever would.

The two of them sat, shoulder to shoulder without saying a word, but after a while, Emori began singing under her breath again, most of the words in Trigedasleng, but a few words of English came up, occasionally.

Bellamy remembered just enough to know she was singing about the place where the desert and the sea met, with the ocean waves crashing across the sand. It was hauntingly beautiful.

It was late in the evening by the time Emori finally stood up to go home. Bellamy walked with her, glad that the silence between them wasn't awkward. He had grown used to silence lately.

Emori walked him home first, smiling as he opened the door to the other housing unit they had left for him before she slid open the door to her own guard station home, and slid under the covers next to Murphy.

For the first time in thirteen weeks, Bellamy slept in the housing unit they had left for him.

For the first time in thirteen weeks, Bellamy slept through the night without jarring awake from a nightmare.

For the first time since she was a child, Emori slept with her hand unbound.