A/N: Hello here I am again... after a very long time I apologise. I don't want to rant so here's an attempt at a Kabby fanfiction, I basically got an idea for one sentence and to use that sentence I have to write so here I go again! P.S.: I have no idea of such things as fevers and other illnesses so what you will read here concerning the fever will most likely not be right. I don't own anything.
All he could perceive before slipping into unconsciousness was careful hands cautiously running a wet cloth over his forehead, taking care not to irritate his skin with the fabric's rough texture and a familiar voice softly humming a strange melody.
The next time he woke, Marcus felt like he was ready to take off again and made an attempt at getting up from the sickbed to follow the responsibilities that had missed out to be taken care of while he was recovering from a sudden, but predicted fever attack. Abby had told him to take things slow after he had shown first signs of illness but he could not accept being thrown out of concept and routine when there were things to do and he was needed at camp.
A short while later, however, the inevitable caught up with Marcus and he blacked out in the middle of a meeting; the last thing he could recall was Abby inhaling rather sharply, as if making clear that she had expected this to happen and that he should have listened to her and seen reason. Marcus did not know how long he had been out cold for, but he was certain that he had to get back to work, otherwise he would feel useless and like he was taking up everything everyone else was working so hard for and that just wasn't fair, he had a job to fulfill and it was time he began contributing to the camp's success again.
Sitting up straight, Marucs took in his surroundings and noticed there was nobody else in immediate proximity, except for various syringes and bottles with contents he had no idea of. He got to his feet, rather slowly, as he was not fully trusting them again yet; after several shaky seconds, however, Marcus managed to stay standing in an upright position and could not help but chuckle, he would be back sooner than Abby would have predicted. He would love to see the astonishment on her face, it would suit her so well and it would also make a difference to the everyday-frown she had engraved in her face as a result of constant stress and demands to meet.
Turning his head, Marcus caught sight of the exit and made his way back to routine.
Abby had barely ever encountered a patient as resistant to her attempts to wake them as Marcus; he lay on the sickbed and refused to response to any of her actions as she was trying to lead him back to consciousness. It was a persistent fever after all, but after nearly a week of just eating, drinking and for the most part sleeping, patients were expected to return to the consciously living again. Running a wet towel along Marcus' hairline, Abby mused about what to do next. Should he not wake up withing the next twenty-four hours, she would have to take measures she would rather avoid using, especially on Marcus; but something had to happen and that soon.
The air felt fresh on his skin, a welcome change after long hours in the medical tent. Marcus inhaled deeply, once, twice, three times before doing anything else. It was a sunny day and the spring sun caressed his skin the way he ached for another human to. Taking a couple of steps around the tent, Marcus spotted crowds of working members of the camp in the distance, but nobody near him. Determined to be useful to the society down on Earth again, he headed for the people he had seen, walking in a quick pace and not stopping to take looks around any longer.
Strangely though, the nearer he was to his people, the more they seemed to retreat again. Marcus tried running, increasingly worried and therefore also more desperate and determined to make an appearance and to prove he was still worthy of the camp's support and work; still, it seemed like he was not moving at all. In spite of physically moving and leaving several tents behind him, Marcus did not reach his fellow inhabitants of camp Jaha.
Exhausted and puzzled, he ceased running and settled for walking again instead, trying a different direction this time. Making his way to Abby's tent this time, Marcus noticed a slight swing in his steps, his legs involuntarily shaking, threatening to give way.
She was beginning to worry, Marcus' condition seemed to be worsening. His body jerked rather violently and if it weren't for Abby by his side, he would have fallen to the ground a while ago, which would have resulted in further injuries. It seemed like Abby could not leave him there for even just a second, but it wasn't like she wanted to anyway. After many times of having been saved by him, she was only too glad to return the favour along with the debt. Abby would happily spare Marcus the debt, though, if it meant he would wake again soon and that without another burden expecting him.
She would do mostly anything to get Marcus back at that moment, to be able to finally get some rest, knowing him to be safe and sound. But the circumstances were different, she would not get to sleep, not yet. Even if she wanted to attempt getting a handful of peaceful hours, she would never make it to the stage of being fast asleep, she would toss and turn and stay awake, wondering if there was a way to get him back that she had not given thought to yet. She would get up again, hair tangled and thoughts not less twisted than before, feeling worse than she had done prior to her attempt. So Abby decided not to try at all.
The helplessness that threatened to wash over her and erase everything else was overwhelming; she did not know where to turn, she was the best medical professional around and yet she could not help the person she wanted to save more than anyone else. All the times she had felt impotent before, he had been there to steady her, to offer her solace in a way that nobody had done before, to reassure and calm her and to lead her back to her truest form of herself. This time, though, she was alone and without a clue of what to do next. Abby hated the feeling for its own sake, but more the fact that she was in no control over Marcus' condition anymore and could do nothing to improve it. Him being there but not really present was something Abby was sure she could not handle for much longer. Even someone like her needed a second half, a piece to complete the puzzle, a mind to think what had not been thought about before.
Marcus reached her place just in time; seconds after he crossed the threshold, he collapsed and lied motionless on the floor. The next thing he knew was hands firmly wrapping around his torso and strong arms pulling him on top of a stack of clothes in a corner of the tent. After he was turned around to face the ceiling, Marcus noticed the blurry outlines of a familiar face drawing closer to his own. Abby was looking over him, searching his body for injuries, his face for any signs of discomfort or distress, her expression soft and posture calm. Running her thumbs over his cheeks, she hummed to the strange melody he swore he had heard before and looked at him in a way he could not recall ever having been looked at before.
"What have you done," Abby whispered under her breath, not intending to let him hear, "what are you doing here, you should be elsewhere. You are needed elsewhere." Marcus shifted uncomfortably, the foreboding of what this situation might be sitting on his ribcage like one of the heavy rocks Abby had once freed him of after the attack on Tondc.
"You stay right here," Abby whispered once more as he tried to sit up, this time louder and wickedly, alerting Marcus to the fact that this could not be and certainly was not reality. "We have some business to attend to."