She was alone tonight. Not different from most of the nights she'd spent on this planet since they'd decided to gamble their lives and came crashing down, entering a world unknown. Their fall had been symbolic, in a way. It was fitting, given Abby's current state of affairs since her arrival. The word "disaster" always came to mind when she could no longer keep those thoughts at bay, although she'd never indulge in such self-pity aloud when people were losing their lives left and right. No, it wasn't much different at all, Abby mused as she slipped through the camp gates, thankful for her small stature which allowed her to come and go as she pleased… but some things had certainly changed. Marcus Kane had kissed her and with that kiss it was as though Abby had lost everything she'd ever known. Her world had been flipped upside down, having been reminded by something so simple that she was human: living and breathing, with wants, and needs, and desires of her very own.
They had lain dormant for so long buried underneath the rubble of her grief that she'd almost forgotten.
The walk was silent, save for the foliage that crunched beneath her boots as she made her way to the clearing. It was where Abby went to seek solitude and whatever peace of mind she could possibly find given today's current social climate: deadly, with tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. She knew that she had a part to play in all of this. She never did have a penchant for making anything easier, and there was a certain guilt she carried with her each day for the mistakes she'd committed, and those yet to be done.
Abigail Griffin was many things, but perfect would never be one of them. For as long as she'd lived she'd been cursed: beautifully flawed, but always with the best of intentions.
The wind blew as Abby made her way through the bushes to arrive in the clearing, and she paused to inhale the sweetness of the summer breeze. Fresh air, one of many things the Ark never offered. But, Abby sighed as she found a spot in the grass; at least they'd been safe up there. Things were… simpler. In a way, Abby thought they might have been better. Everyone had been protected from certain things, even herself.
She lay back with the tall summer grass tickling her bare arms as she stared up at the sky. She stared up at…
"Home."
It was nothing but a small, bittersweet hum in the silence of the night as the darkness wrapped around her and provided a comfort she'd never expected. Why? One of Abby's favourite books described it perfectly, "for the night is dark and full of terrors." It was a shame nobody ever dared to warn her that the terrors would be her and her people. It was a shame nobody took the time to clarify that good and bad are relative terms when you aren't living so far removed from everything and everyone else.
Take… Marcus Kane, for example.
He used to be so good. Closing her eyes and inhaling that sweetness once more, Abby could still recall the way he looked when he laughed with Jake and Thelonious… with her. Abby could see the life that twinkled in those brown eyes of his, in a way that made her confident that he was nothing but inherently good. She had trusted him. Perhaps that had been her first mistake.
When Marcus had "turned," it had happened so damn fast that Abby hadn't seen it coming. She supposed, upon serious consideration, that she had been wrong. No, Marcus had never been "good." This darkness had always been lurking inside of him and she had simply been too blinded to see the monster within. During those final years of living and working together upon the Ark, she had come to the conclusion that he was not a man who was broken, but a man that was so filled with hate that she had sparingly wondered if he had any humanity left… if he had ever had any to begin with, or if this had all been one elaborate act.
In a surprising turn of events it seems as though he did have much more than a shred of humanity, which was precisely Abby's problem. Abby had been front and center to witnessing the transformation that had taken place—that was still taking place—within Marcus Kane and it was… astounding, for starters. He had been so good, and then he had turned into something terrible, but now? Now Abby didn't know what he was, for Marcus Kane was no longer black and white, but shades of gray.
She did, however, know she liked the light that was reappearing in his eyes again and the way he made her feel as though she was something and someone to be desired. Abby liked the way Marcus smiled at her and the way he believed in her as though she wasn't screwing everything up (because she was). She liked the way that Marcus saw her as Abby Griffin—not Mrs. Griffin, not Clarke's mother, not Chancellor, not Doctor… just Abby. It had been far too long since Abby had been "just Abby." It had been so long that she wasn't sure who or what "just Abby" was anymore.
And still, Marcus Kane had kissed her. In doing so he had awakened something that Abby had tried to separate from. He had awakened a yearning for things she still wasn't certain that she deserved: the desire to be wanted, the desire for affection, for someone to look at her in the way Marcus now did. Abby wanted to be important to someone in a way that being Chancellor, doctor, mom, or friend couldn't sate.
It was true that, after all of these years, Abby wasn't sure who she was or what she wanted, divested of all of her titles and stripped down to the bone. But something had been awakened inside of her that afternoon when Marcus Kane had kissed her, and Abby was going to do it again… to see if she could find out.