Waking up to the soft electric light inside the tent, he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the difference. His waking body began registering that the pain he had been living with for almost two months was numbed. Reaching up for his aching head, he felt a bandage around his head. Another bandage was wrapped around his torso, holding his broken ribs together and he was cleaner then he had been in a long time, as well as warm. His head felt fuzzy and any effort to pull up memories was met with confusion and made his head ache worse then before. Deciding that the pain wasn't worth it, his eyes searched the tent for clues about where he was. There was pile of rags in the chair next to him. Putting the puzzle together that they were the clothes he had been wearing when captured, he stretched out his arm. Picking them up, he saw all the holes and tears where his captors had cut them off. He threw the useless strips back on the chair and tried to stand up completely. Overcome with nausea, he turned around as quickly as he could and threw up on his shredded rags, clutching at the edge of the bed to steady himself.
"Marcus, you shouldn't be up and moving."
The voice was coming from the doorway and he turned to see a small woman with her arms crossed over her chest and a look of relief in her eyes. She was blocking the exit but judging by the previous vomit episode, he knew that he couldn't escape now if he tried.
Sitting back down on the bed seemed the smartest decision so he settled himself, then turned back to the woman walking towards him and asked in a voice cracked and rough, "where am I?"
She didn't answer his question but the look of relief left her eyes, replaced with concern and worry and he felt his chest tighten in another panic episode. He counted slowly as she approached the bed, calming his heart down even as his captor drew closer.
"You have sustained a massive concussion Marcus, you shouldn't be moving around. You need to be resting."
His head was still spinning and he was so tired but he didn't want to rest, he wanted answers about where he was and what his captors wanted from him. Their concerned behavior was confusing and his only conclusion was that it was a trick. He remembered the lies told to him by his previous captors, like promises of water.
(Water on leaves, spilled across a floor, his hands trembling as he tried to drink from the crumbling leaves and crushing the precious liquid into mud whenever he moved.)
Giving her a wary look, he asked a different question, "you call me Marcus, is that my name or a word for prisoner?"
"It's your name," she said softly, frustration painting her features, "you are not a prisoner, you are my friend."
Shaking his head turned out to be a bad idea and he moved to throw up again. The woman was there with a cool cloth pressed to his forehead when he finished and then another person, male, walked in. He moved to take away the messy clothing and Marcus backed up into the corner of the table, prepared for any attack that might be coming. His two captors shared an indecipherable look and then the man left, carrying away what was left of his clothing. When the man left, Marcus relaxed enough to allow the woman closer though he remained tense as she reached to touch him. She patted his head with the cool cloth again before handing him a cup of water with a handful of semi crushed leaves.
"I need you to chew these and then wash them down with the water, it will make your head feel better."
Looking at the leaves with obvious suspicion , he left them on the table and took a tiny sip of the water before also setting the cup down. Sitting with his legs drawn up to his chest, he waited to see if he would fall ill. Abby stared in horror at his behavior, realizing that he was checking to make sure that she wasn't poisoning him.
"It's just water Marcus," she said but his eyes simply shifted around the room, taking in the various implements and noting where all the exits were. If they kept him in here then escape would be easy and he could find a weapon among the equipment. His look of complete distrust was so wretchedly familiar to Abby, and she left the tent as soon as she was able. Getting him to cooperate was apparently going to be as difficult as ever.
Stubborn man, even when he has no memory of who he is.
Shaking her head, Abby went to find a small amount of food he could easily chew and brought it into the tent to see him finishing the rest of the water. The empty cup gave her hope and she picked up the herbs. Fetching more water, she took a few of the leaves and put them in her mouth, chewing carefully and then taking a drink of water from the cup.
Handing the leaves and cup back to him, she said, "it isn't poison Marcus, it is medicine and it will help you remember things. I brought some food and I will have some bites before I give it to you so you know that I haven't poisoned that as well. Is that acceptable?"
He looked into her eyes, searching for some sign of a lie, and Abby was thrown back to the Ark and watching his face as he decided whether to trust her or not. It was terrifying to see him once more so unsure of her motives but she tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible. He took the herbs, and drank from the cup of water as well. Abby sighed in relief and , took bites out of of the mashed roots and softened meat before handing him the container. Eating was hard for him as chewing caused more pain to his head but the soft food helped and he managed to finish everything she brought. Food meant strength and strength meant escape. His meal finished, the woman tried to get him to take more medicine but he was done putting strange plants in his mouth and laid back down on the cot. His back was hurting more then his chest so he rolled onto his stomach to sleep and regain some of his equilibrium. Thinking about escape when he hurt this much was foolish and he didn't even know where he was. The woman was small and he hadn't seen any guards whenever she opened the door so he knew his chances of escape were good once he received more information. The woman would be easy to overpower if she kept feeding him.
Marcus. she says that is my name. I can't trust any of them. It could be a trick. Am I Marcus?
His mind was turmoil but his body needed rest and he fell into a deep slumber.
Watching him fall asleep, Abby kept her arms crossed over her chest and took measured breaths. As soon as she saw he was resting, she left the tent to recuperate and get food. She barely made it into the mess tent before she collapsed onto the floor with tears streaming down her cheeks. Clarke saw her mom collapse and ran to help her up but as she drew close, she slowed as the sounds of heart wrenching sobs echoed off the metallic floor. Abby Griffin was breaking down in public and the people in the tent didn't quite know how to handle the sight. Grabbing the closest person, Sinclair, Clarke pulled him to the other side of her mom saying, "help her up and into a chair. She needs some food. I doubt she has eaten anything since Kane was brought in."
Sinclair followed the young woman's order, not being the type of person who could stand up to a Griffin, and placed Abby down in a corner chair where she huddled into a fetal position and continued to shake. Clarke had never seen her mom like this, even when her dad had been floated, Abby Griffin had only cried in private and showed a face of determination to the rest of the populous. It was as if all the horrors in the world didn't compare to Marcus Kane not knowing who he was. Grasping at her mothers arm, Clarke tried to being her back to the world with facts about amnesia.
"He is going to get pieces back mom, and I am sure that you are going to be inside those pieces, and then they will come faster the longer he is healthy. You know he is too stubborn to let something like amnesia stop him from being Kane. He will be back up and terrorizing the camp before you know it. He knows his name now and as he gets used to referring to himself as Marcus, more of his memory will return. I know it mom, just have faith."
Abby sobbing into her arms brought the whole tent to silence and Sinclair made the decision to clear them out until their Chancellor had a chance to recover. People would have this incident spread all over camp by tonight but for now, Abby deserved her privacy.
"Alright everyone, lets give the Griffin women some room. They have had a long night."
The camp inhabitants filed out of the tent with silent compassion. Some of the members even came over to touch Abby reassuringly before leaving to their dwellings. Bellamy and Octavia made their way over once everyone else was gone and brought food with them.
"She has to eat something right?" Octavia asked.
Clarke nodded and pushed the food in front of her mother, "mom, you have to keep up your strength if you are going to help him."
Sobbing wasn't helping anything, Abby knew that, even if her heart felt like giving in and never stopping. The sound of her daughter's voice telling her to eat was very logical and she began her breathing exercises that she had learned when Jake was floated to bring her heart rate back into a more natural rhythm. Raising her head, she saw Clarke as well as the Blake siblings watching her. The rest of the tent was empty and she was so grateful that a few more tears slipped down her cheeks.
"He has no trust for anyone at all. I know his name and I am helping him heal and he looks at me like its some giant trick that will come back to hurt him. I can see and fix what they did to his body but how am I supposed to fix his mind?"
Not knowing the answer, Clarke could only stroke her mother's hair and try to get her to eat something. Eating gave Abby something to do with her hands and she finished the plate just as people were being let back in the tent. By some unspoken consent, no one brought up her melt down and left her alone to sit and think. Knowing that Jackson was going to be doing a blood draw later to see if he had any poison or drugs in his system, Abby finally mustered up the strength to stand.
"Thank you Clarke, I think I just needed to eat," Abby said with a brisk tone that left no room for arguing, "I need to go oversee that blood draw so I can try and get answers. I'll let you know if I need your help."
A shout from the medical tent had Abby and Clarke off and running. They entered to chaos. Marcus had Jackson on the ground and even with broken ribs and a head injury, he was keeping the healthier man in place while he held the needle up to his eye.
"Marcus!" Abby yelled, "stop this at once! He wasn't going to hurt you!"
He didn't move as she yelled, staring at the man beneath him as if daring him to move. Jackson wisely held as still as he could and tried not to even breathe to loudly. A sharp pop came from the doorway and Abby turned to see Major Byrne lower her recently fired stun gun as Marcus convulsed with the current.
"Stop that at once! You could have seriously injured both of them with that thing," Abby said furiously, "and he is never going to trust us now."
"He is a danger to this camp and to himself. I am moving him into our temporary cells. You can treat him from there," Byrne said in a voice that offered no argument.
"He is not a prisoner, he is one of us. I am Chancellor here Byrne, not you," Abby spat.
"We need to keep all of them safe Chancellor, and right now he poses a threat to everyone in this camp if he is not contained," the tall woman shot back, "what if it had been Clarke trying to help him? Are we going to allow him to hurt anyone who makes him feel threatened simply because he used to be your friend?"
"He still is my friend and I thought he was yours too."
"He is my commanding officer if he ever recovers his memory. Until then, I need to detain him just like every other hostile we have had in this camp."
Abby grasped her hair in frustration but finally nodded her consent to the move. Medical was too open and anyone could come looking for help and if…when he came back to himself, he would be horrified at the thought of harming one of their people.
She tried to comfort Marcus as he was handcuffed and dragged off to the cells but he stared straight ahead and didn't speak a word, his eyes blazing with fury.
"Marcus, I am sorry about this. I don't want to hurt you," she stopped when he gave no indication that he had heard her and stared ahead as they continued their trek, her mind pushing the words down. She couldn't give excuses. She wouldn't. This was just how it had to be and she would deal with it. Walking back into medical, she saw Clarke rubbing an aloe concoction on Jacksons throat.
"Are you going to be alright Jackson?" she asked her fellow doctor. He nodded, unable to talk while Clarke held him still. He tried to smile but his heart wasn't in it. As soon as Clarke was finished with her treatment, Abby gave them both hugs.
"I am sorry Jackson, I should have been the one to try and get the blood," Abby said with a sigh.
He nodded, "yeah, he seems a little aggressive towards men. Perhaps they were the only ones allowed to hurt him."
"That's probably accurate," she said, passing her hand over her face, "I wish we didn't have to lock him up. I am sure its familiar ground by now."
Clarke had been silent while she and Jackson were talking but she snorted at that.
"Yeah, its like he got hit with everything he deserved in one giant swoop."
Abby looked at her daughter, "you don't know what you are talking about Clarke. Don't presume to know him when you have only met Councilor Kane."
Flushing, Clarke's temper was sparked, "he floated dad!"
A mirthless laugh escaped Abby's lips, "he followed the order passed down by Jaha and he was acting on information given to him by me, even though I did it to save Jake instead of condemn him. Marcus may have pushed the button but he wasn't responsible for your father's death. Clarke, things are never as simple as we want them to be."
The fire drained out of Clarke at her mother's words and she unclenched her fists, "I just don't see it."
"It took me a while to see what you see in Bellamy Blake," Abby countered, "but I do see it now and it is the same thing I see in Marcus so please, just trust me on this."
Clarke nodded and stood up, saying, "I am going to go for a grin and try to find some more of that herb you were using earlier. If it reduces brain swelling, then maybe he can at least remember who he is."
"Maybe it's better if he doesn't," Jackson muttered.
"You two can either help me or stay out of my way," Abby said, "I am going to go check on my patient."
Leaving the tense situation, Abby felt her hands shaking with anger. She knew Clarke didn't understand. She knew that Jackson watched her lashing and that he blamed Marcus for ordering the punishment. She knew these things yet defending Marcus came second nature to her ever since he had walked out of the woods the first time with Clarke and Bellamy, the survivors of the hundred milling behind them. The story of people deathly allergic to solar radiation, grounder blood banks, and battling manic men called reapers had spilled out over the next few days but all Abby could focus on was that she had kept her word to keep their people safe and he had kept his word and brought the kids home with peace following on their heels. There was still the people from Mount Weather and other grounder tribes to contend with but he had kept his word and Abby needed to help him remember who he was. She had never thought that a second meeting with the close grounder tribe would be ambushed by another more hostile tribe and that Marcus would be taken hostage before she even got to thank him.
She found Marcus against the far wall of his cell, scratching his plastic cuffs against the walls, looking for snags in the metal.
"You always were smarter then I wanted you to be," Abby said to announce her presence.
"Not a prisoner huh?" He says with a cruel smirk.
"You attacked someone who was trying to help you, what did you expect?"
"I expected betrayal and you did not disappoint, just like them."
"I didn't betray you Marcus, I told you that you were safe but you didn't believe me and so this was necessary."
"There is no such thing as safe."
She realized that she was standing as close the cell as she could and that her breath was heavy with anger. The pattern of their earlier relationship was making itself known again and she had to try a different tactic. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she took a step back and held up the needle.
"Jackson was going to draw your blood so that he could check to see if you have any drugs in your system. Did he not tell you what he was doing?"
Marcus stared at her and then looked back at the needle before turning to the wall, "I don't like needles."
"I know," she said, "you hate them so much that I have had to corner you in meetings to give you your shots."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
Abby wanted nothing more then to hug him in that moment. He was confused but he knew that he didn't like needles so that is what he reacted to. She needed to do the draw but getting him to cooperate was going to be harder then growing trees in space. Thinking about trees brought up Vera and she had an idea to draw out a memory for him. Sitting down on the ground next to the door, she put her face to the narrow window that ran through the length of the door and started singing.
When you are frightened
Of all that you see
Come my sweet child
To the old willow tree
Hide in the branches
Curl up in the leaves
And there I will find you
'Neath the old willow tree
As you grow older
And long to be free
Run my sweet child
To the old willow tree
Hide in the branches
Curl up in the leaves
And there I will find you
'Neath the old willow tree
He turned his face towards her singing, catching the tune in his throat as if sound were tangible. Abby sang and he hummed along with her till the song was done.
"I remember a tree, it was so small that I could carry it around with me. It was growing in a pot made of clay. I broke it once and my mother cried so I tried to glue it back together. I didn't have the right glue and it took forever to dry but she smiled when she saw it again. My mother…I don't remember anything else about her."
Abby smiled as softly as she was able, not wanting to break the fragile peace between them and spoke with a thick voice, "it was your mother's tree. She wanted to plant it on earth. She-she wasn't able to make it down here so you planted it for her."
"That's good," he said with a faint echo of sadness, "were we somewhere other then down here?"
"We were in a space station but it was dying so we had to come down."
"Space station," he echoed and hummed the last bar of the song again, trying to see if it would bring up any other memories.
Abby held the needle up to the doorway and said, "I need to take your blood Marcus. I can't help you until I know that they didn't give you anything dangerous."
There was silence on the other side of the wall for so long that she thought he wasn't paying attention.
"Alright," was the gruff reply.
The answer given, he held his arm out of the food delivery hatch and Abby picked the best vein she could to get the task finished. His blood pooled into the tube and Abby watched it in a swirl of emotions. He was giving her a tentative trust with this act and it was all she could to remain calm and not get over excited. She had been on a few hunts with the other camp members and saw how the deer reacted to the hunting, jumpy and skittish and bolting at the slightest sound. Marcus reminded her of that deer. The deer had been shot, Octavia's first successful hunt, and there had been a celebration. That kind of cautiousness is what had kept Marcus alive all this time, Abby was sure and she hoped this sign of trust wouldn't end as bloody as that deer. She pressed a soft cloth the the dot of blood on his skin and held his hand till it clotted over. He kept his silence through the whole ordeal but pulled away from her touch as soon she was finished.
She packed her things up into the bag and said, "I will be back later to check those bandages."
"My name is Marcus, or so you have told me. What is your name?" He asked as she left. Her footsteps ceased and she went back to the door to look through the window.
"My name is Abby."
"Hello Abby."
