A/N: Warnings and Disclaimer can be found in the first chapter (Prologue) and will not be repeated unless necessary e.g. a particularly violent chapter/implied sex etc.
For those who read this story before the edit, I have removed Max Fraser from summary/story as I have noticed he wouldn't fit in where this story would be going. He will return in a different 100 AU fanfic and since he wasn't introduced nor fleshed out as of yet, you guys won't really miss him.
Darien's sentencing has also had a bit of a change, excluding Marcus from the actual interview and bringing in Diana Sydney who I have plans for.
The100Fan; Many thanks for the review. Prologue was simply an intro and as the story progresses, more will be revealed.
Chapter 1
"The World Away From Earth."
She's only six years old but for as long as Darien can remember and as much as her young mind can understand, the only people in her life have been her grandmother and the man she is told is her father.
She doesn't count the annual checkups with the doctor.
Darien doesn't refer to him as 'father' partly because it has always been a particular request of his, but given that he rarely visits (aside from ensuring she is causing no trouble and doing well in school), she has no reason to object to such a wish. There is so little a connection between them that he is practically a stranger and even less affection, and that makes it easier to accept that this man doesn't wish to be part of her life aside from whatever obligation he may feel.
It's sort of sad and at the same time alright, because even though she hasn't got the seemingly perfect family as many other children her age do, she is content with her nana who has always been there.
After all, it could always be worse. Darien could have no one like the other children in the Ark's only orphanage.
Her nana is the best, Darien likes to believe.
Even with the older woman's little eccentricities and her religious beliefs, she is the kindest person Darien has ever known and has the most wonderful way of telling stories.
The stories she invents herself solely through memory and something called imagination, those are the ones Darien treasures most.
Darien finds comfort in telling stories.
Skybox – Present Day
Darien Kane began her mornings the same way she had for the past several months and counting; by staring into the outside space that could be viewed through her cell's window.
During these moments, she tried to remember which stars formed what constellations all while she stretched and worked her way through every exercise and training drill she could recall from her limited time of having learnt them or given what she could actually accomplish in the area she had been confined to.
The window could be considered one of the rare luxuries available to the few prisoners scattered throughout the top floor of the Skybox's isolated ward.
It was essentially a row of cells dedicated to prisoners who could not be kept with the other inmates, either due to the violence of their nature and past crimes, or because of paranoia from the council if their crime were of a more sensitive sort that they could not afford to have become public knowledge.
Thus, on this floor one never saw many excursions unless it was for a shower, medical emergency or the day of some unfortunate soul's retrial. And even then, it was scheduled so that no prisoner ever saw the other.
The worst part about being here, was that she had too much time to think and not enough to focus on.
The boredom and lack of creativity, ate away at her mind and she had frequent bouts of restlessness that more often than not, accumulated into fits of despair and melancholy.
After all, there was only so much one could do with their own mind as company.
Darien paused briefly in her routine to roll up the sleeves of her thin cotton shirt before starting again and letting her thoughts wander aimlessly.
She had in the first few months of her sentencing, known the pleasures of communal incarceration.
This had included a paired room with a quiet but bubbly girl named Harper and their lunchtimes spent in a communal cafeteria on the bottom level.
It hadn't been too bad since they got a change of scenery even if only for one meal a day, and access to the small library available, as well as the ability to talk to other prisoners even though under a strict watch.
Darien could even avoid the stigma of being a Councilman's daughter for no one knew her last name and sharing your life story wasn't exactly a necessary requirement given that most of the Skybox inhabitants didn't want to share any intimate knowledge for fear of it being used against them.
Knowledge, it seemed, was currency among the delinquents.
For a time, all was well considering what she had done, and the council had even approved her visitation rights eventually. Though at the time, only Callie Cartwig had gained access to check on her and Darien was pretty sure that having a child in the Skybox was an embarrassment that Marcus Kane would distance himself from entirely for he never once visited.
Which suited her fine. At least she could tolerate Callie.
What hurt was that her grandmother had never once shown and she didn't know why.
Was she ashamed? Did she hate Darien as much as Darien had hated hurting her?
Darien blinked away tears along with the memories and refocused on her exercises, reminding herself of Callie's rules as she did so.
Callie was a guard who worked for the Ark's police force and mostly under her father, Marcus Kane (and if rumors were to be believed, shared his bed as well).
The woman had been Darien's instructor for almost two years before the day she got arrested.
Letting loose a sigh, the teen knelt to begin the next set of exercises on her rather short mental list.
Though always jumping at the chance to learn something new (as was her bane and passion), training with Callie had solely been her father's way of hoping that by expending energy through combat and discipline, it would lessen the amount of trouble she always seemed to be in.
Though Darien couldn't quite confirm that it had done anything to help in that department...
...at least it had proven she could defend herself, she thought darkly but quickly shoved the thought away before it could fester.
She forced her thoughts back to Callie and how much she had enjoyed their sessions. In their time together, they had covered many different styles and tactics (an area Callie thrived in due to her Asian ancestry, with the knowledge passed down through generations) and Darien had grown to like the woman's soft-spoken and steadfast manner.
…even if the idea of anyone dating her father was a bit weird and something which in all honesty she could have lived without knowing
Darien stopped and took a deep breath, letting her body touch the cool metal surface of her cell before relaxing completely and finally freeing herself of the night's latest bout of terrors.
She allowed herself a bitter smile.
From that first day in the Skybox, she should have known that life wouldn't simplify just because she'd been arrested.
She should have known that everything that had happened with Everett, would come back to haunt her eventually.
When Darien had first been brought in, clean from the drying blood and only mottled in bruises with her dark red hair cropped to her shoulders, she'd felt hunted by the stares of her fellow inmates and trapped between the confines of her cell.
The nights had been filled with torturous dreams and violent tremors, only to wake thrashing in her roommate's arms.
The days were then filled with skittish movements at every male glance, wandering at every intent, or hissed curses and hidden flinches at every catcall, whistle and dirty innuendo even when not directed her way.
She had started to meditate to manage her emotions and began working out to expend any frustration so as not to snap at anyone.
And for a while, all was well. The self-subscribed physical therapy helped.
Then one day, a boy her age touched her shoulder and she broke his nose before she had even realized she'd thrown a fist his way.
He'd only wanted to return a pencil she had dropped.
That day proved she hadn't quite bottled up her issues as much as she had hoped.
The guards denied her rations for the evening as punishment and she began to work harder to deal with what was most likely mild PTSD.
A few more minor incidents followed and she was punished accordingly.
Dislocated fingers, bruised eyes and ribs or split lips, followed by denied visitations, loss of rations or isolation from other prisoners.
Harper eventually asked to be moved to another cell.
Not by her own volition, but because Darien had pleaded with her to do so, refusing to unintentionally hurt the girl should she get caught by one of Darien's unexpected rages.
And Darien only tried harder to keep things controlled. To always be in control.
It didn't work as well as she would have liked.
One day, she got into a fight with a guy after he had refused to take a hint when she had repeatedly said no to his flirtations.
Once he was treated for a fractured arm and collar bone, the guards classified her as a danger to have around others and promptly upgraded her living quarters to ones located on the top floor where she had meals brought to her and only left when it was time to shower or use the bathroom.
Darien found that the solitude suited her much better and calmed the raging sorrow and hurt that festered deep within.
It wasn't healthy to not deal with her problem with human interactivity but then again, she was a condemned Ark prisoner that had been arrested for murder. Her future had few options and being able to socialize normally didn't matter for one of them.
"Rations for the day." Came the voice from the other side of her door.
Darien glanced at the pack that was dropped in through a slot before it was closed again and sighed before starting her routine all over again.
Just another day on the Ark...
Whenever Darien is asked about her mother by anyone, she can only shrug awkwardly. She simply has no memories of the woman that died when she was born.
The few facts she has gleaned over the years, are simple things her nana can recall.
Like how her mother had a beautiful singing voice and loved to read. Especially the novels involving adventure and mysterious make-believe worlds. Darien also knows her mother's favorite story was Oliver Twist, how her favorite colour was green and how she liked to sing while cleaning.
There are more personal things like the fact that they both share the same dark red hair colour and grey eyes and that without a doubt, nana knows her mother would have loved her.
Darien dares not question her father on the subject even when nana insists he would be the best person to ask.
The one time she does, his dark eyes glimmer with an emotion that both scares and saddens her, even though she's not sure what it is and it will be years before she does. So she leaves him alone regarding the subject and keeps the little treasures her grandmother has been able to share, close to her heart.
Present Day – The Council Room
He couldn't accept this.
Marcus Kane paced the length of the council room, anger turning into despair and hopelessness, then turning into anger all over again.
Why had he expected any different?
"I am sorry Marcus but Darien will turn eighteen long before the dropship is scheduled to attempt the trip to Earth." Jaha said, his voice laced with sympathy and it made Marcus sick.
"Thelonious, you have to make an exception. Please!" He asked, at this point, close to begging.
It couldn't end this way, not when there was a sliver of hope. Not when there was so little time left. This was his only chance to fulfil his promise to Selene at least in some way.
"I can't Marcus, you know that I can't." The Chancellor all but snapped in reply. He was growing tired of having this argument. "There are other prisoners who have been denied due to age as well. I can't favor one over countless others."
"You mean Everett won't let her get the chance!"
"Just what are you implying?" Jaha hissed, finally standing from his seat at the council table.
Marcus raised his hands and stepped back.
"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for." He murmured. "But I need you to change your mind Thelonious. She won't get a fair retrial, not with Everett or even Sydney presiding over it and you know it. The mission to Earth is her one chance."
Jaha sighed.
"I know this is hard for you, but you have to see the position it puts me in." He said. "I'm trying to keep things fair for everyone."
But it wasn't fair, Marcus wanted to snap. It hadn't been fair from the start. Nothing was fair.
He'd been denied the ability to visit his daughter and her opinion of him had most likely grown no better over the years, while he constantly battled through his determination to believe she had a good reason while also coming to terms with the fact that she had been the reason a person had died.
He'd had to lie to his mother and claim Darien was dead to keep her from digging into the case to find out what had happened and risk getting into trouble with people who were blocking his own attempts at every milestone.
And now this...
"What if it was your child?" He murmured, soft enough that Jaha might have missed it. But he didn't.
"Wells isn't..." The Chancellor stopped but Marcus knew what he'd wanted to say.
Wells wasn't like Darien. Wells was a good child and would never break the rules. Wells hadn't murdered someone.
"No, he's not. But what if it was your child?" Marcus demanded. "What if he was facing death and this was your only option that he may live on?"
Jaha's face was creased, anger and pity warring against the other before he rubbed at his face.
"Of course I'd do everything that I could to protect him." He answered before smiling wryly. "Though I'd like to think that if I was in that situation, I'd remain unbiased."
Marcus scoffed and Jaha's frown returned.
"That being said Marcus, I can't just change the rules whenever I wish. I may be Chancellor, but even I have to follow the law."
And sometimes, only when it suits the Ark or the Council.
"Thelonious, I'm just asking that you consider it...for all that has been denied to me since her imprisonment and for everything I have done for you, please grant me this one thing." Marcus finally whispered before deciding to leave.
Jaha watched him go and as he reached the door, finally sighed.
"I will reconsider your request and discuss it with the council." He said. "But understand this Marcus. I will make no promises. There are rules and whatever you might think or want, Darien did go to prison for murder. The end result may not be the one you want."
Marcus, who had paused at the door, bit his lip to keep from saying something that may ruin whatever possible hope he now had, and simply nodded before leaving the room completely.
Outside, he breathed and considered what to do next. He was saved the thought when a familiar blond turned the corner, her arms folded.
"I thought you might see him." Diana said.
"Don't worry, he isn't going to change his mind." Marcus said and stepped around her. He had other duties to attend to besides listening to whatever she had to say.
"Then why try at all?" She asked, keeping pace with him as he left the corridor. "If it changed nothing, why try?"
"Some of us are human Diana." He all but spat at the woman. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try protect her. She is my daughter after all."
The blond hummed and Marcus wondered why she was still following him.
"Isn't there something else you need to be doing." He asked. Like ruining someone else's life?
"What if I could get your daughter on the dropship."
Marcus stilled completely and Diana walked past to stand in front of him.
She was lying. There's no way she would be offering something like this to him after all the troubles she's gone through to keep Darien where she is.
"What do you want?" He bit out.
She laughs.
"Marcus, what makes you think I want something?"
"You always want something Diana." He said sternly. "You've taken so much trouble to see Darien persecuted, I don't believe you'll freely help her now."
She smiled and patted his arm.
"I do want something." She said, blue eyes sharp. "I'll let your daughter have her freedom Marcus and one day, when I come to you for a favor, you won't ask any questions nor will you say no."
"Just a favor?" Marcus asked softly, brow raised.
"That's all I ask." Diana confirmed and held out her hand.
Marcus stared at her extended appendage as indecision warred within his thoughts.
Could he indebt himself to this deceitful woman?
Everything in him screamed not to trust her. The favor she asked could be anything, even incriminating for himself.
Would it be worth it?
Diana frowned and slowly retracted her hand.
"Well, if you want Darien's floating date to go ahead as planned, it's no difference to me." She said and turned to leave.
"No, wait!"
Darien was worth anything as long as she lived. She had to live. He owed it to Selene.
Marcus grabbed her hand and held it tight.
"Swear it." He growled. "Swear Darien will not be floated and that she will have a place on the dropship."
Diana smirked and squeezed his hand.
"I swear." She said. "And you?"
Marcus released her hand like a hot coal and grimaced before replying.
"I will owe you one favor of your choosing Diana, but only one…and I will not refuse."
"Good." She said and smiled, satisfied with the outcome. "We'll talk again Marcus."
Marcus watched her leave and rubbed his face.
He had sold his soul but maybe Darien would have a chance.
It's all I can do Selene.
Darien is eight when she discovers that she has more family beyond her beloved nana and Marcus Kane.
Robert and Rachel Mchale.
Her mother's parents and by extension, another set of grandparents.
Nana's husband had passed away long before Darien had been born, so she never knew him. Therefore the thought of having a grandfather and another grandmother is something she can't even find the words to describe.
She wonders why she hasn't met them or why it took her overhearing a conversation between her father and nana before she knew they even existed.
She doesn't ask questions at first. Maybe there's a reason they don't want to know her or haven't met her. Maybe there's a reason her nana has never mentioned them. And as slim as the chance may be, maybe they don't know about her.
Even at the tender age of eight, Darien is aware that things can be complicated and sometimes not normal. Her own father is a perfect example.
Yet she's curious. These grandparents she never knew were the parents of the mother she never knew. If anyone could tell her about the woman who passed away to bring her into the world, then certainly they were the best people to ask.
It takes months of musing and doubt before she even considers attempting to ask nana about them.
When she does finally ask, her nana only has a vague answer to give.
"It's difficult to explain Starlight. They're very different people." She murmurs. "It would be best if you leave them be."
Darien ponders at these words for a few days but doesn't question her nana further. If her nana wanted to explain, then she would have.
This doesn't satisfy her curiosity but Darien won't press the issue.
She momentarily thinks about asking her father but quickly snubs that thought. It's hard to speak with him and if nana (who almost always tells her everything) can't give her more information than he surely won't be any better.
Darien decides to introduce herself to them. Even if it results in a truth she doesn't like.
She wants to know.
It takes her a week to locate the Mchale residence.
Despite how near it is, it takes Darien nearly three hours to return to her own home.
She doesn't ever ask about them again nor mention meeting them to her nana. She doesn't look for them in the corridors or ever try again.
They called her a murderer. They hate her for something she could not control. For their daughter dying. They don't consider her family.
Darien accepts this with a strange sort of ease.
When Robert and Rachel Mchale both pass away during the influenza epidemic a year later, Darien feels nothing but a brief sadness and regret that things between them could not have been different.
If only they had given her a chance.
It was going on just over two years of confinement now, but Darien found time did not matter in isolation with your own thoughts as a constant companion.
It tended to make that period feel like a lifetime.
Her sentence would be coming to an end in a few short days and she knew without a doubt that she would not be one of the rare few who managed to get integrated back into society.
Not that Darien knew of many cases where that had actually happened.
Especially when your crime was murder.
No, her only future involved the cold, eerie silence of space and a swift, sudden death as she was sucked through an airlock while her lungs imploded and she suffocated violently in a matter of seconds.
A rather macabre thought but nevertheless true.
Darien swallowed and hid her face in her arms. She had so many regrets. There was so much she wished she could say or do before she had to die.
Darien wanted to hug her grandmother one more time. To smell the earthy scent that always clung to the woman's clothes and to feel the callouses on her hands from years of knitting.
She wanted the chance to explain, maybe even see if the truth might actually make a difference.
Darien wanted to be with the few people she called friends and discover if they had changed or were they still exactly as she remembered.
Tears fell and she pressed her eyes shut to ebb the flow, not that it really succeeded.
Darien wanted to ask Marcus Kane if he ever thought about her and if she even mattered to him, even a little.
Most of all, she was torn between being scared and not caring at all.
She was scared that dying would hurt and scared that once her life had ended, the nightmare would not go away.
Would she be damned to suffer even if the afterlife for her crimes like the tortured souls that went to Hell is so many of those old world novels?
And in the same breath, she sometimes found she did not care.
In one corner of her mind, a rather terrible thought stood out among all the others and yet brought a certain measure of peace.
She'd no longer have anything to fear.
The paranoia and nightmares would vanish the moment her life ended.
She'd be completely free of any terror or guilt, no longer worried about waking in the clutches of a dream born memory where hands gripped her hair and lips bruised her skin and righteousness turned into horror.
She would never have to fear reliving the sound of her hands beating easily into flesh or the feeling of blood seeping through her clothes.
She'd be free from everything.
She would be nothing.
And it wouldn't hurt anymore.
…
When the morning of her eighteenth birthday finally came, Darien woke well before breakfast was due to arrive. In fact, it was as though she had barely slept at all.
She did not feel tired but knew that her body had not got the required rest it most likely needed and yet she did not care.
How could she when today was the day she would die? What did sleep matter when she didn't need it for where she was going to end up?
So many thoughts tried to become center stage at once and she constantly had to remind herself to breath.
Would they let her say goodbye to anyone?
Would she get to even see her Grandmother, Callie or any of her friends?
Would Marcus Kane even care that she would be gone...
These thoughts pressed down on her like a weight. Dark and depressing.
Minutes turned into hours. Half a day passed and there was not a single sound to interrupt her solitude. No rations appeared. No guard to escort her. No sudden appearance of a council official to tell her that it was time to die.
Nothing.
She doesn't move from the bed. She has to keep telling herself to breath and not cry. The day passes in a blur of stuttered emotion and exhaustion.
When rations do suddenly appear, she is too shocked to react and has to wait until they appeared again before attempting to question the guard who brought them.
He says nothing and Darien is left asking questions she feels will never be answered.
She spends every day that follows, wondering when her floating will come and why they would be so cruel to prolong it.
Days pass by and no one answers her questions. The routine continues as if her birthday has not come and she has not already turned eighteen.
Darien feels she will go mad, locked in this cell with no purpose left but to wait for whatever end may come.
The relief to still be alive is fleeting and yet still she feels it.
Maybe she's not so ready to give up just yet after all…
Clarke Griffon stared at the newest drawing to grace her cells dreary steel walls, etched out carefully among the many sketches of flora, fauna and even the beginnings of a vast starry night.
The animal wasn't anything she ever had the pleasure of seeing in real-life, no one could claim such an honor as all of the Ark's current occupants had been born in space. This was merely copied from a picture she'd once come across in a book long ago.
A bird they called it. More specifically a bald eagle native to the country that had once been the United States of America.
A creature that could fly in the air and never have fear of falling.
It reminded her of freedom. And strangely, it reminded her of Darien.
It had been a year since Clarke's own arrest and the death of her father Jake Griffon, and though that moment still hurt (would always hurt), she had another hurt that flared almost as constantly.
She blinked and stepped away from the drawing, turning to stare out the window which looked out into the vast stretch of space and countless twinkling stars.
Stars that she and Darien had created stories about to pass the time or to just have silly fun when they were younger, smaller…more innocent.
Moments of wonder and joy that seemed so very far away now after all that had happened.
A sob caught in her throat and she brushed away sudden tears.
Clarke had counted the days, before her arrest and even more so after it.
Today was Darien's birthday. Today the Council would float her friend...and she would never get a chance to say goodbye.
To speak to her. To know why she had been arrested. To know why people called her a murderer.
She would never know why the girl who was practically her sister, could have been accused of such a crime when she was the most selfless being Clarke had ever known.
The blonde knelt on the floor and wrapped her arms around herself as if to keep warm. Tears dripped down her nose and cheeks and the pain inside almost felt like she was suffocating.
Darien Kane was going to die today and all Clarke could do was cry.
Darien has few friends because it's so hard to talk to the children in her class who are so much louder and more confident than she is.
Sometimes, when they try talk to her, she gets unexpectedly shy or scared because the idea of being treated differently due to who her father is or not being liked for any reason terrifies her, but at the same time she craves the idea of someone her own age that she can talk to and share secrets with.
So Darien tries to befriend people, to get to know them and soon she has people she can be herself with.
Of the few friends she has, one stands out above the rest.
Her name is Clarke Griffon.
Clarke reminds Darien of the sun. Bright, burning and passionate; a radiant ball of energy all contained in one small person.
Clarke is relentless in her pursuit to get to know Darien, the only other girl in their class who will draw pictures beyond their usual prescribed classwork. The only girl with an imagination as vast as her own.
They spend many afternoons with Clarke drawing pictures and Darien providing stories.
Darien hopes they're best friends forever. _
A/N: I will confirm now that most of the series pairings will happen in some way or form, even if I alter it slightly. This is an AU after all.
If there are any suggestions for other pairings that readers would like to see, let me know, especially endgame pairings. I don't promise to give everyone what they want, but I do like to hear the general opinion compared to what I might be considering
Regarding where this story goes, I am not sure how AU it is going to turn but for now most of what happens in S1 and S2 (in some way or another) will still occur and for the most part follow those timelines. There will also be some influence from the books.
I haven't decided if I will use S3/4 canon.