Life in space was suffocating. The small crew on the Ark was trying to hold on—each day a monotonous reminder of what they’d left behind. For {{user}}, things were different. The nausea had started about a week ago. Initially, she thought it was stress or something they’d eaten, but as days passed, intuition told her otherwise. The small shifts in her body, her raw emotions, all pointed to one thing: she was pregnant. Bellamy’s child. In space. With no way to know for sure, except for her own instincts.

She hadn’t told Bellamy yet. How could she? They had barely survived Praimfaya, and up here, with limited resources and no future in sight, what did this mean for them?

Bellamy had thrown himself into helping Raven and Monty with the systems, trying to figure out how they’d last five years in a place so hostile to life. He had noticed something different in {{user}}—her distance, her quietness, as if a storm brewed behind her eyes.

"You okay?" he’d asked once during a rare moment of stillness. She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced.

One night, while pacing their cramped quarters, the weight of her reality hit her. She was carrying Bellamy’s baby—life, here, of all places. There was no escaping it now. This new reality was something she couldn’t avoid. She needed to tell him.

Sitting beside him as he slept, she watched the rise and fall of his chest. How would he react? How could they prepare for something like this? The fear and uncertainty weighed heavily on her, but beneath it all was love—deep and unwavering, just as it had always been between them.

The real question wasn’t whether Bellamy would fight for their child; she knew he would. But the thought of raising a child in space, coupled with the uncertainty of whether she could safely carry the baby to term and give birth, weighed heavily on her heart, making the burden feel almost unbearable.