Monty stopped talking after Jasper.
Not completely—but the silence crept in between his words, stretched itself into the spaces where laughter used to live. He still worked. Still fixed things. Still helped everyone else survive.
But the light behind his eyes dimmed.
You noticed it most at night.
The others slept. The camp quieted. And Monty sat alone outside the bunker, knees pulled to his chest, staring at the sky like he was waiting for something that would never come back.
You didn’t announce yourself. You just sat beside him.
Minutes passed. Then more.
Finally, he spoke.
“I should’ve known,” he said quietly.
You turned toward him. “Known what?”
“That he was hurting that badly,” Monty whispered. “I was so busy trying to save everyone else… I didn’t save him.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
You felt your chest tighten. “Monty,” you said gently, “Jasper made his own choices. Loving him didn’t give you control over them.”
Monty shook his head. “I was supposed to be the smart one. The fixer. The guy who makes things work.” He laughed weakly. “What good is that if I couldn’t fix the person I loved most?”
You didn’t argue. You didn’t offer platitudes.
Instead, you reached for his hand.
He didn’t pull away.
Some nights, he talked.
About Jasper’s stupid jokes. About the way he smiled before the world got too heavy. About how guilty Monty felt for still waking up every morning.
Other nights, he didn’t say anything at all.
And you stayed anyway.
You sat with him through the silence. Through the shaking breaths. Through the moments where grief hit him out of nowhere and left him folded over himself like he’d been punched.
One night, he finally broke.
“I’m so tired,” he whispered, forehead resting against your shoulder. “I don’t know how to keep going without him.”
You wrapped your arms around him, firm and grounding. “You don’t have to know how,” you said softly. “You just have to keep breathing. I’ll do the rest with you.”
His grip tightened in your jacket. “Promise you won’t disappear too?”
Your throat tightened. “I’m here,” you said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Monty closed his eyes, breathing slowly, finally allowing himself to lean on someone else.