5times Abby was scared


1.

The fall lasted forever, marked by the soundtrack of screams and the whining of quickly burning metal.

Marcus lost count of the number of times his head hit the wall at his back. Nausea was hard to suppress as they were shaken in every direction, everything was trembling. A few people passed out – the lucky ones in his opinion.

Abby was hurting him.

She had reached for his knee when the station had started shaking, her fingers were digging hard in his flesh. He covered her hand with his and she looked up, it was hard to hold her gaze because nothing was stable and they kept being hurled one way and the other but he saw enough to read the same fears he felt deep down. She turned her palm around, letting go of his knee and he automatically entwined their fingers.

Hands clasped together, they held to each other as the station plummeted to Earth.

Please don't let us be blown up apart, he kept repeating in his head like a mantra, Please don't let us be blown up apart…

Suddenly the shaking grew worse and Abby let out a small yelp as she was flung against his side. The seatbelts weren't making a good job at keeping them steady. Her free arm wrapped around his as if he had any chance of grounding her better.

"We'll be fine." he told her, forced to shout to cover the roaring.

He wasn't sure she heard him.

She curled up against his side and he automatically shielded her with his body as much as he could. It wouldn't do a lot of good if they exploded or crashed but…

If he could protect her, he would.


2.

The night shone with the lights of hundreds of torches and campfires.

The Grounders' presence was impossible to miss or ignore and Marcus feared it would be a long night. Camp Jaha was buzzing with activity despite the late hour, no one being able to settle in the wake of Finn's death.

He had lost sight of Raven but he knew Bellamy would keep an eye on her and, hopefully, prevent her from jeopardizing the fragile truce the boy's sacrifice had managed to settle.

Finding Abby wasn't as difficult as he had feared.

She was in the back of the Medical tent, shifting supplies around like she tended to do when she was upset – reorganizing the reserve was a way of calming her mind, of putting some order back in chaos.

"How's Clarke?" he asked, keeping his voice low not to disturb the few people lying on cots in the main space of the tent.

She startled, turning to him with her left hand on her chest, the right one clutching a still wrapped scalpel. He lifted his eyebrows, his lips twitching in amusement. It was short lived though. The night had been too emotionally charged for amusement to last long.

And he couldn't fault her for being jumpy and ready to strike at enemies.

She was the Chancellor and she shouldn't have been left to her own devices given that they were surrounded by enemy troops. He had left her with Clarke earlier to give them some needed privacy but he blamed himself for not thinking of sending a guard to protect her. He should have been there to protect her.

If anything happened to her…

He didn't think that was something he was ready to face.

"She kicked me out of my own room." Abby answered in the same tone. She lowered her eyes, her jaw clenched. "She was…"

Her voice trailed off and he gently took the wrapped scalpel from her hand, afraid she would accidentally hurt herself the way she was clutching it.

"Upset?" he suggested.

"Yes." she breathed out. "Upset… She didn't want to talk to me."

"That's understandable." he offered. "You…"

"Yes." she snapped. "Yes, I'm well placed to understand what she's going through. Thank you."

She turned her back to him again, moving things around on the metallic shelf with shaky hands.

He winced. "It's not the same thing, Abby."

"Why?" she chuckled bitterly. "Because someone else pushed the button instead of me? Or because she actually did it to spare him pain when all I did was…" He placed his hands on her shoulders and she stopped talking for a moment. Her own hands froze on the supplies and he regretted his hasty move. He wasn't sure where they were standing. He wasn't sure if they were still enemies or if they were friends again. He wasn't sure he was allowed the familiarity of touching her in comfort without asking first. Before he could step back, an apology already on his lips, she covered one of his hands with hers. Her voice was frail and devoid of the confidence she usually had in spare. Her whispers were urgent and panicked. "What if she can't make it through this? What if it changes her? What if…"

"Abby." he cut her off as gently as he could. "Just give her time."

She turned around and his hands naturally fell down her arms before he let go. He was a bit surprised to see the fear shining in her eyes because he tended to consider her fearless. It took a lot to scare Abigail Griffin.

"I don't want this to haunt her forever." she confessed. Her face contorted with the obvious effort it took her to keep herself collected. "I want her happy and safe. It's my job as a mother to… What if I can't give her that, Marcus? What if I fail?"

He wasn't the best person to give parental advices. He had no children and his only practical experience with teenagers had so far revolved around arresting them.

So, instead, he offered an advice he had tried to apply since hitting the Ground.

"You can only do your best." he told her. "And hope it's enough."

"Hope." she repeated slowly, as if testing the word out.

He knew what she was thinking: he had never really been an advocate of wishful hoping before.

However things were different now.

And he was trying to adapt.


3.

They had been scared winter would fall on them after Mount Weather, they had no reason to fear. It was summer they should have looked out for. Nothing they planted seemed to grow despite the Grounders' techniques Lincoln showed them – the few surviving kids from Farm Station like Monty Green didn't know how to help, no one in Arkadia had practical knowledge about farming. Worse was the sun cruelly beating down on them for most of the day, slowly turning the Ark's wreckage into something unbearably hot by warming the metal to the point it seemed to ripple – a trick of the light, Sinclair had promised him but Marcus wasn't entirely convinced.

There was no relief to be found outside either. The air was stiff, the earth was scorched, the guards were suffocating in their black uniforms… Abby was complaining about Medical being full of people with heat strokes while she, herself, ignored her own advices about regularly drinking water and taking breaks now and then.

Marcus wasn't sure how the fire started.

Someone screamed the alert but it was already too late. One of the tents was licked by flames and the fire was quickly spreading. The Camp was wild with panic, people ran everywhere, shouting out to get water or trying to leave the dangerous area…

Someone cried out that a woman was trapped in her tent.

"Marcus!" Abby called, running in his direction from Medical.

There was no time to stop though.

"Organize a chain!" he shouted back. "Get water over here!"

Someone tried to grab him as he jumped in the blaze – he thought it was Bellamy – but they failed. It was an inferno and, for a second, he harshly regretted his own decision – up until he managed to find the woman and get her out of there. Lincoln and Bellamy met them at the edge of the fire where he crashed, taking the woman with him. The boys dragged her away and straight to Jackson who was waiting a bit further apart from the agitation.

Hands gripped the collar of his jacket and dragged him on a good five feet without giving him an opportunity to stand up. He was still coughing when his would-be savior deemed the distance from the fire safe enough. He looked up, expecting Octavia, but found himself faced with Abby's terrified eyes instead.

She crouched in front of him, her hands shaking when they reached for his face. "Are you hurt?"

Some of his hair was a little singed and he held out his hands without a second thought. His palms were burned but after a quick examination she must have concluded it wasn't life threatening because she punched his shoulder. Hard.

"Don't you dare do something like that again!" she growled, her fear quickly morphing into anger. "Why do you always have to be the self-sacrificing idiot, Marcus?"

Because someone had to be, was the true answer.

He blamed the smoke he had inhaled for what came out of his mouth instead.

"Because then you have to patch me up." he blurted out as if it was a perfectly valid explanation.

Her eyes widened a little and then narrowed in annoyance.

"If you like my hands on you so much, Councilman…" she retorted. "I would advise staying alive to feel them."

He chuckled. "Duly noted, Chancellor."

The panic around them was receding. The fire was now under control and Abby sighed as she grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He was forced to keep his hands in the air as she escorted him to Medical and to a cot. She left only long enough to check in with Jackson and then came back with creams and bandages.

He let her work in silence on the first hand and then cocked his head a little to the side, watching her with rapt attention as she started smearing cream on his left one.

"You were scared." he observed.

She glanced up at him with irritation. "There was a fire and you jumped right into it. Of course, I was scared, Marcus."

She hadn't just been scared though.

She had been scared for him.

It made a nice warm feeling appear in his chest.


4.

"We act tomorrow."

Three words that were so heavy Marcus almost wanted to take them back.

Her hand clenched on the metallic cup full of lukewarm tea he was sure she wouldn't drink anymore. She leaned more heavily against the outer wall of the station, never taking her eyes away from his. Around them the night was alive with the usual noises of Arkadia's life: people calling each other, the various campfires popping, the occasional round of laughter…

It had all become so familiar…

Any other night, he might have been on his way to the war room with their mugs of tea and a pile of reports for the two of them to review. Or they might have sat around one of the fires and shared some moonshine and friendly conversations.

Before.

Before Pike had been elected Chancellor and he had committed mass murder.

Before he had been forced to lead a rebellion in an almost ironically comical role reversal.

Now… Now they were standing in the shadows of the Ark's wreckage, far enough from the groups of people that their discussion wouldn't be overheard but close enough that it wouldn't seem too suspicious. He could feel eyes on him, on them.

"You still won't tell me what you're planning."

It wasn't a question. She had been asking for days for him to involve her and he had kept delaying, pretending he was considering it when the decision had been taken within seconds of her requesting it.

He averted his eyes, watching the bottom of his own empty cup rather than braving her gaze. "It's better this way, safer for you."

It made sense, he told himself. Someone needed to be there to take up the fight if he didn't make it. And that someone would have to be Abby.

"You mean if you get caught." she accused.

"Yes." he answered after a moment, still not meeting her eyes.

She took a deep breath. "Marcus…"

"Abby." he said before she could add anything else.

He knew what she wanted to say. It was dangerous, yes. He didn't know how far Pike would go if they got caught. Banishment, maybe, which, with the barricade in place, would be a possible death sentence. Still, he would take his chances out there if it came down to that. Reunite with Octavia and Clarke, organize a more elaborate coup…

The aim, here, was to avoid a civil war. Some people would follow him, other would rally behind Pike. He didn't particularly care to test whose followers would win against the others.

It was dangerous and they were playing with fire.

But they had no choice and Abby knew that.

His mind couldn't help but draw a parallel to another time and another place. It felt like their life on the Ark had happened forever ago and yet… It hadn't been so long since she had turned Jake to Jaha, because she had felt it was the right thing to do. For their people. He had agreed with her then, regardless of personal feelings. And she agreed with him now.

Their people first.

Personal feelings later.

She was scared. He knew that. She was scared for him, she was scared for the others involved, she was scared for Lincoln, she was scared for Clarke… She was scared for their alliance with the Grounders… She was scared everything they had fought so hard to build could crumble down…

But she couldn't let that fear dominate her because she was a leader.

That was what was needed of her, what he needed of her. For the good of their people.

Her free hand reached out and grabbed the open lapel of his jacket. It didn't feel right, this jacket. He had been wearing the guards' one for so long it had become like a second skin. This one… The weight wasn't right, the warmth wasn't enough… It didn't feel familiar.

She must have thought the same because she let go.

"Please, don't get yourself killed." she whispered.

He faked a reassuring smile and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear, briefly wondering what the eyes spying on him would make of that. His hand lingered and he cupped her cheek, letting his thumb retrace the shape of a cheekbone once.

The way she was looking at him…

His eyes darted to her lips and it was tempting, so tempting to give in to this pull that had been increasingly rising in him…

He couldn't afford it though. He needed a clear head. He needed strength. He needed to not be worried about what he would potentially be leaving behind, who he would potentially be leaving behind.

"I'll do my best, Chancellor Griffin." he answered finally, in a single breath, his voice rougher than usual, reluctantly dropping his hand.

"I'm not a Chancellor anymore." she reminded him. "It was supposed to be your turn."

He shrugged, a small more genuine smile gracing his lips. "You'll always be my Chancellor."

Something deep and almost painful flashed in her eyes. Her voice sounded raw but strong. "And you are mine." She reached out and squeezed his forearm once. "Together."

"Together." he echoed.


5.

It was odd how Marcus still expected to hear the hum of engines when he was working in his office late at night. Arkadia was so silent it wasn't helping him concentrating. He rubbed his eyes and gave in to the temptation of lying down on the couch to read Raven's report, thinking it would be more comfortable – probably more suitable to actually sleeping too but at least he would have tried to get through that last report.

He toyed with the idea of going back to bed where he had left Abby in deep slumber but people expected their Chancellor to have answers about what was going exactly with radioactivity and, so far, Raven's – titled radioactivity: a guide for dummies because clearly none of the kids were scared of him anymore – report wasn't completely helping clearing matters for him. It was however helping him cure the short bout of insomnia that had made him toss and turn next to a sleeping Abby for an hour.

The sound of quick footsteps alarmed him and he pushed himself back in a sitting position right in time for Abby to burst in the war room, wearing the loose tattered navy blue pants she used as pajamas. She had zipped her jacket over the tank top she wore at night but her boots were unlaced.

"What's wrong?" he asked at once, bolting to his feet and already crossing the room, worried by the wild spark in her eyes. She looked terrified.

She met him halfway, flinging herself in his arms with unchecked strength, making him stumble back one step.

"You weren't there." she said, choking a little on the words. "I had a nightmare. They executed you. And I woke up and you weren't there and… I thought maybe… I thought…"

She had thought he was dead for real and she had dreamed everything else. It happened to him too sometimes. Being unable to tell the nightmares apart from reality was a nasty aftereffect of leaving the City of Light. It usually only lasted a few seconds after waking up but… It was disturbing.

"I'm sorry." he apologized, holding her tight. "I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake you. I thought I would get some work done… I didn't think you'd…"

He hadn't thought she would wake and panic because he was missing.

Her arms loosened a little but not much. He could feel her heart racing in her chest and he pressed a kiss on her head.

"Leave a note next time." she chided him.

He was new to this. He had never had this sort of relationship before. He was new to serious and steady but he was ready to learn, ready to embrace it. He wanted it all with Abby, as long as life would allow it and, maybe, if his mother's religious theories were right, beyond that too.

"I'll remember." he promised.

"You better." she snorted, cupping his cheek and nuzzling her nose against his until he took the hint and kissed her.

She didn't look scared at all anymore when he pulled her with him on the couch.

She was chuckling, her eyes twinkling in mischief, and he just smiled, happy to see her happy.