The sounds that were coming from the bathroom almost made her turn around and run back to medical. She was dealing with her fair share of sick and wounded, and if Marcus could stop getting in some kind of trouble every two days it would be of great help, as much for his well-being as for hers. Actually, specially for hers. With a resigned sigh, she pushed the door open, and here he was, Chancellor Marcus Kane in all his glory, head in the toilets.
"I'm dying, Abby…"
That's how she knew he would be fine. Now free of worries, she crouched down next to him and made him raise his head with a finger under his chin. Admittedly, he didn't look very good ; his pale and yellowish skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and yet he had beads of sweat on his forehead, and it all gave her a pretty good idea of what might be the problem.
"Have you eaten anything in Polis ?"
His guilty expression told her all she needed to know.
"Damn it Marcus, how many times have I told you to not eat food given by strangers ?"
The argument on his lips was very quickly replaced by something else before he had the time to get the words out, and he found himself throwing up once again, body shaking with huge tremors. It lasted for a while, making Abby wonder just how much he had stuffed his stomach with weird, unusual food, how a man could be so intelligent and so stupid at the same time would never fail to amaze her.
When he was done, she helped him get up, stopping by the sink to rinse his mouth, and they slowly walked to their bed. As soon as his body touched the mattress he curled into a ball, arms around his stomach, eyes closed, and taking deep breaths to try to fight the waves of nausea. For the second time this evening, Abby sighed, though this time a little bit of fondness managed to get pass through the exasperation as she took off his shoes before sitting next to him.
"At least take off your pants, you'll feel better without them."
A moan.
"I can't…"
She rolled her eyes. Even when sick with the flu as a child, Clarke wasn't half that bad, and that was saying a lot. So, she went to work, she undid the zipper and, oh miracle, he lifted his hips to help her take his pants all the way down.
"See, I knew you loved to undress me."
How she longed to wipe that cheeky smile off his face… In due time, she thought, it will all come in due time. For now, she settled with a deadly glare, but it didn't work as she hoped, for he still had his eyes closed, so she pinched his thigh in retaliation, and lay down beside him.
"I can't believe that you still haven't learned you can't stomach lots of grounder food, our bodies are still used to the small rations, which, by the way, are all you're going to eat for the next few days, you can't expect to eat so much and feel good afterwards."
"But it's not fair. And it's all Indra's fault. Not mine."
"Did Indra shove it down your throat ? No ? Then stop blaming her, you're 42, Marcus, not 5."
"It's not what she did, but what she said…"
"Kane, come here, there is something you have to try."
Marcus happily stepped away from the old model train he was having fun with, and walked to the stand where Indra was talking with a man. In a big bowl just inches from them were about six or seven snakes, living snakes, slithering around each other, and before Marcus had the time to ask a question, Indra was handing him a very small glass with a reddish liquid inside, and something he couldn't identify at the bottom.
"Drink up. Quickly, while it's still beating."
"What's that ? And what is still beating ?"
The man sent him one of these looks, the kind of look that clearly make you understand how stupid your questions are. That's when it dawned on him, what was inside his glass.
"Are you kidding me ? You want me to drink - eat a snake's heart ? Still beating ?"
"Won seidgeda, fai gou."
One night, five times.
Indra's small smirk helped him a lot to understand what kind of "times" it was about.
"For the record, I absolutely don't need this. Not at all. Like, you know, I'm just curious. That's all. Curiosity."
He didn't tell Abby any of this however, obviously his mastermind plan had backfired. It had been more of a One night, Throw up five times for him than anything else ; Abby did take off his pants, but not with the same results as he had hoped in the afternoon.
