"We have to answer for our sins, Abby." —Marcus Kane, "Resurrection"

They managed to get Kane into an unused room in City Hall on the ground floor. Lincoln and Octavia left after one last look at Kane, but Bellamy stayed, arms crossed as he watched the two Griffin women kneel next to the shallowly breathing body and begin to assess the damage.

Abby popped open the med kit and looked at her daughter; her face was pale, her eyes wide, her hands were shaking, and her head mirrored her hands. Abby looked away as she cut Kane's pant leg to reveal the damage the knife had done. She was forced to pull away the tourniquet she had applied in the woods as she removed what was left of Kane's right pant leg.

Abby whispered, examining the knife imbedded in his leg, "Stop the bleeding on the lower laceration, Clarke."

Clarke didn't move, she was frozen in her spot.

Abby looked at her and said sternly, "Clarke!"

Still, she remained frozen as she stared at the wounds. Bellamy moved from his spot on the wall and knelt next to her, grabbing the thick cloth and handing it to her. Her fingers curled around it and she looked at him, a frown on her face. He whispered, "You can do this."

He moved her hand to the wound and pressed down. Though he was unconscious, Kane let out a grunt as Clarke regained her composure and applied pressure to the bleeding. Abby sterilized the needle and thread as she met Bellamy's gaze. He had released Clarke, but remained at her side, ready if she needed help again. Abby gave him a small nod and he returned it with a grim smile.

Clarke muttered hoarsely, "I did this to him."

Abby looked at her, watching her daughter's hands release some of the pressure they were applying as they began to shake. She put her hands over Clarke's, pressing hard on Marcus' wound, and urged, "No you didn't, Clarke."

"No…No, I did," she croaked, pulling her hands out from under her mother's. She sank back and put her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook violently as a sob tore through her throat.

Abby pressed on Kane's wound as she stared at her daughter. Bellamy placed a hand tentatively on her arm and Clarke sank into it. He wrapped his arms around her and looked to Abby for help. She whispered, "Get her out of here. Bring me someone who can help me."

He nodded and helped Clarke to her feet. They were nearly to the door when she heard Clarke whisper, "I tried, Mom. I tried to save him."

"He's not dead, Clarke," she called over her shoulder. She heard the door shut and lowered her head to Marcus' chest, keeping her hands firmly on the wound. She felt the grief wash over her and blinked away the tears. She whispered against his shirt, "Do you hear that, Marcus? You are not allowed to die."

A throat cleared behind her and Abby turned, hastily wiping away the tears. She found John Murphy standing in the doorway, he said, "The Grounder and Octavia are patrolling the woods with Harper and Miller, Nelson's meeting with that village leader. I'm all you have."

Abby nodded and said, "Come here, John."

He knelt across from her and she noticed that the color had left his face. He looked over the two wounds, his eyes lingering on the knife still in Kane's leg, before he met Abby's eyes. Murphy ran a hand through his hair before he asked, "What do you need me to do?"

Abby lifted the drenched cloth and examine the laceration, finding that most of the bleeding had stopped. She reached into the med kit and grabbed the bottle of saline. She handed it to Murphy and said, "Clean the wound."

He nodded and went to work as she laid out their supplies. He pulled away silently when he was finished and Abby leaned closer, examining the wound. A sliver of bone was visible within and she asked for tweezers, finding them in her hand within a second. She parted the skin, thankful that Marcus was in shock for this. She pulled out the bone and muttered, "Nothing more we can really do, not here."

Murphy nodded and handed her the needle and thread she had set aside. Abby sutured the wound, working quickly and efficiently. Once finished, she handed Murphy a clean cloth and said, "I'm going to remove the knife now. Okay?"

He had grown considerably paler and she reached over, patting his hand. "You're doing great, John." He nodded curtly but she could see the fear in his eyes. He stared at the knife, clutching the cloth tightly in his hand, ready. "On the count of three: one, two three."

She pulled the knife free with expert precision and Murphy immediately pressed the cloth against the wound that began to bleed heavily. He was breathing shallowly through his mouth as he looked anywhere but at Kane. While she waited, she raised Kane's shirt to search for any other injuries. The bruising on his right side was blossoming into a deep purple and her hand rose to her mouth, clamping down to keep from crying out.

"Hey, are you okay?" Murphy asked gently. She nodded quickly, but he wasn't convinced. "What is that bruising?"

"Broken ribs," she said quietly, running her hand tentatively over the skin. Her voice rose in frustration as she added, "It could be a lacerated kidney too, given the location, but I need to take a scan to know for sure which I can't do here!"

Murphy stared at her and removed the cloth, to reveal that the bleeding had stopped. "Then fix what you can."

He grabbed the saline and cleaned the wound before he held out the needle and thread to her again. Her eyes softened as she looked at him. He lowered his gaze and urged her to take the suture supplies. She began with the holding stitch as she said quietly, "You didn't have to do any of this, John. Why did you come with us?"

"Your boyfriend made a compelling argument," he replied, watching her work.

"And what was that?" She asked, zigzagging the stitches up Kane's thigh.

He replied, "He said that you needed me."

"He was right," she whispered.

When she finished, he had a bandage waiting for her. She placed it over both wounds and asked Murphy to lift Kane's leg so she could roll a wrap around the leg. He did as he was instructed and held up the leg by the muddy boot, watching her hands as they worked nimbly over the tender flesh.

Abby leaned back after and looked down at Kane's face, sighing. "We can't really move him until he wakes."

"Then it's back to Camp Jaha?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Mount Weather would be preferable," she replied, meeting his gaze. "And it's Arkadia now."

Murphy let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Who came up with that?" She nodded at Kane. Murphy smirked and replied, "Of course."

Abby pursed her lips as she looked fondly at Marcus. She blinked and turned toward the med kit, packing away everything. When she looked up, Murphy was on his feet, heading for the exit.

"You know, John, you would make a fine doctor," Abby said quietly, watching him stop at the door. His back tensed and she wondered what was going on in his head. Slowly, he turned back to her, his eyes scanning the repair they had managed on the Chancellor's leg.

He shook his head as his eyes met Abby's. "No one would trust me enough to come for medical advice."

"They would," she said with an encouraging smile. "You wouldn't believe how accepting they have been of the others—"

"The others haven't done what I've done!" He said harshly.

She stared at him hard for a few seconds before she commented, "No, the others have done worse."

It was nearing dawn when Clarke found her. Abby was curled in a sleeping bag on the floor at Kane's side. Her eyes were wide open and they followed her daughter as she walked into the room and sat crosslegged on the other side of Kane's body. She adjusted the blanket over him absently before she met her mother's gaze.

She whispered, "I'm sorry for last night."

"Don't be," Abby said, shaking her head.

"Mom, I—"

She snapped, "Clarke, you have nothing to be sorry for."

Clarke looked at her in surprise for a moment before she rested her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried. Abby watched her normally strong and stoic daughter break down. She was used to Clarke being calm under pressure and able to handle anything thrown her way. She had seen this Clarke only once before and that was when she had lost her father.

Abby pulled herself out of the sleeping bag and walked around Marcus to kneel next to Clarke, gathering her in her arms. Clarke buried her face in her mother's neck and muttered, "I almost got him killed."

"Tell me what happened," she whispered, stroking her blonde hair.

Clarke took her time, telling Abby everything. She started with guard duty on the parapet; moved on to their journey to the gymnasium; she talked of Reid taking Kane away immediately because he 'wanted to see how much Kane could take before Emerson got to him.' He had been brought in late the following afternoon, looking terrible with something different about his eyes.

Clarke pulled away when it was time to reveal just how Kane had received the knife injuries. She couldn't look at Abby as she whispered, "He got hurt because of me. Emerson wanted to take everything I cared about and destroy it. I couldn't make him stop because he wanted me to feel what he felt when I murdered his family."

Abby wiped the tears from Clarke's cheeks and whispered, "He'll never get the chance to do that, Clarke."

"How do you know?" She asked, blinking away the tears that just kept coming. Abby took her face in her hands and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Abby whispered, "He won't live long enough to get the chance again."

Fading sunlight streamed through the windows as he opened his eyes. He groaned as the pain came back in full force and his hands tensed up at his sides, crushing the hand that had nestled itself within his. Abby let out a gasp and wretched her hand away, rubbing her other over the aching fingers.

She reached out for him and he shrank away from her. Her eyes strained as she looked at him, he hated that he was the cause of her pain. Kane's eyes closed and tried to rolled away from her, but his leg — propped up on a crate — didn't allow it. Abby whispered, "You shouldn't move, Marcus."

"Don't call me that," he whispered harshly, clenching his hands into fists. Abby moved away from him at the movement, her eyes wide. He swallowed with difficulty as he heard her breathing shallowly, he knew she feared him.

Her voice was barely audible as she replied, "Why?"

"He called me that."

"Emerson?"

"No," he whispered. He couldn't say his name, he wanted to erase it from his memory. What Emerson had done to him was nothing to what Reid had done. He would gladly take countless knives to any part of his body if it meant what Reid had done would be expunged from his psyche.

Abby nodded in understanding. She whispered, "Kane, it's going to be okay—"

He shook his head violently and said harshly, "I'm damaged, Abby, I always have been. I'm going to die sooner than later and you don't need that heartbreak, not again."

"Stop," she said softly. He stared hard at the wall across from him, his body trembling. Abby continued gently, "You said we were in this together, I still am and I always will be."

"I don't feel like me," he admitted, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt like there was nothing left of who he used to be. Reid had done things to him that Pike could never have thought of. Pike had been human once, but Reid — Kane thought — had been born an abuser.

"Kane," she breathed, her voice cracking. A lump caught in his throat and the tears slid down his cheeks. "Kane, please, look at me."

It was five minutes before he rolled over and he stared at the ceiling, unable to look at her. He could see her out of the corner of his eye, sitting against the far wall, her knees drawn to her chest with her arms wrapped tightly around them. It was another minute before she spoke. "Do you want any pain medication?"

"No."

She nodded and leaned forward, resting her chin against her knees. She whispered, "I know what he did to you, Kane. At least what Clarke knows. I know it was worse than that. You have to know that I will always be here to talk it through with. I'm not going to turn you away."

"Why?" He croaked out.

"Whatever he said to you, whatever you think you did to deserve this pain, you didn't do it. Whatever we've done in our pasts, we've more than made up for it," she said. "Given how many times we've almost died, Kane, don't we deserve the chance to live?"

He rolled over and looked at her, wincing as he twisted his bad leg. "Why do I deserve to live? Why do you love me?"

She searched his face before she rose to her feet and crossed the room. She sat a few feet from him and said, "I love you because you are the best man I know. You're a great father—"

"I'm not a father," he said, lowering his gaze. She leaned forward and touched his jaw lightly. He flinched at the contact but she managed to lift his head, though his eyes avoided hers.

She said affectionately, "Yes, you are."

"Abby—"

"You are, Marcus." He flinched at the name but when she grabbed his hand, placed it on her lower abdomen, and held it there, his mind blanked. He stared at their hands on her stomach, forgetting entirely about Reid, about the pain in his leg and ribs and back. He blinked and felt a tear slide down his cheek. He looked up at her for confirmation and she was smiling at him. She whispered, "We're having a child, Marcus."

First off, I am so sorry for this chapter. Shit. But hey, Baby Kane's finally been revealed!

-Lauren