"How did you get to be such a dick?" — Raven Reyes, "The 48"
He was sitting with Raven in her workshop, attempting to apologize for his actions earlier, when Sinclair came in with the news. The words flitted to Kane as if they came through water, muddled and slow. He reacted long after Raven did, the words hitting him half a minute after they did her. Wick's dead.
His body froze, unsure of how to process it. It wasn't until Sinclair left to help move Wick's body from the rover did he know what to do. Raven turned to him — tears in her eyes, her body shaking — and he opened his arms to her on reflex. She sank into his embrace and sobbed against his chest, her arms wrapping tightly around his back as he stroked her hair lightly. He wasn't sure why he was doing it, but he knew in the back of his mind that it was the right thing to do.
They stayed like that for a long time, Raven soaking his shirt with her tears and him running his hand absently over her hair. His mind was on Abby though, wondering where she was. He wondered if she needed comfort, too. He knew he should be pushing her away for her own safety, but he couldn't stop himself, he needed her.
"Kane?" Raven whispered against his shirt, gripping the back of it tighter like she needed it to keep herself upright. He nodded and she said, "Why does this keep happening?"
He frowned, unsure of how to answer. He truly didn't know why this kept happening, why people kept dying, why Raven kept losing those she cared about. He remembered floating her mother — a drunk who couldn't resort to trading her daughter's rations once she had turned eighteen. It happened a few months before they came to Earth, she had stolen one too many bottles of moonshine. He knew Raven never grieved for her. But Finn, mercy killed four and a half months ago, she had certainly mourned. He thought she would always feel something for Finn, just like he thought Abby would always feel something for Jake. He never understood how someone could go on after death, how they could love again. But Raven had loved Wick, Abby loved him. It was baffling to him.
"Maybe it would have been better to have pushed him away," Raven mused, adjusting her head to rest on his shoulder. Her breathing was normal again, her body still, but he could feel new tears wetting his shirt.
He whispered, "You can't think like that."
She pulled back and looked at him sharply. "How can you say that?" His brows lowered in confusion and she nearly rolled her eyes. "You're doing that to Abby."
Again, he just looked at her.
Her anger overshadowed her grief and she pulled herself away to stand in front of him. Her eyes were red and puffy and her breathing became uneven again but it had nothing to do with the tears anymore. Her eyes were narrowed at him and he sat under her hard gaze, waiting for the worst.
She spoke slowly, letting each word sink in. "You're pushing Abby away, everyone can see it. She'll never tell you, but you're hurting her. She's stressed out, do you think that's healthy for the baby?"
"I didn't—"
"Exactly, you didn't think, Kane!" She shouted, tears sliding down her cheeks again. He knew she had more to be upset about than just him, but it felt like it was all because of his actions. She was another person he had hurt, another person he had let down. "Abby has enough on her plate — Clarke's still missing for fuck's sake! She shouldn't have to worry about her 40-something depressed boyfriend!"
"I'm not—"
Again, she cut him off. "You are depressed, shut up. You need help, just accept it and stop being a di—"
"Raven!" Kane looked passed Raven and found Monty standing in the doorway. His eyes were red but wide with shock. He crossed the room and took her by the elbow. "You shouldn't be working, come on, I'm taking you home."
She shook her head, her eyes on Kane; he could tell she wasn't done with him yet. Monty's grip on her tightened and he said, "Doctor's orders."
Her eyebrow rose. "Abby's barring me from work again?"
Monty began, "She has your best interests—"
"No, she doesn't!" She yelled, glaring at Kane again. "She's punishing me because he's being distant."
Monty sighed and shook his head. "That has nothing to do with it. Come on, let's go." He started to pull her away again but she wrenched her arm out of his grip and, with one final glare at Kane, left the room. Monty turned to him and whispered, "She's not okay. I'm sorry."
"It is fine," Kane mumbled. Monty studied him for a few moments before he nodded and hurried after her.
Her hands were red, the skin raw from scrubbing too roughly. She would have kept going if Jackson hadn't found her at the sink, crying and ruining her skin with the scrubby. They ached now, but the skin would heal. The pain was better to focus on than thinking about Wick and the blood that had covered her.
But the longer Bennett talked about the memorial they would host for all of the dead, the longer she squeezed her aching hands, trying to push the thought out of her head. She could still hear Wick's wheezes as he died, she could still feel his lungs pulsing as they worked overtime to get him air while she tried to suture them. She could hear his laugh too, as he teased her about Marcus and the baby. It was strange, he had been so happy just before his death, joking with her and trying to ease her worries.
"Abby?" Sinclair asked, interrupting her thoughts.
She sighed, trying to remember the question he had asked just before. She smoothed her hands on the metal table, letting the cold surface soothe them. "How about 8 a.m. on Sunday? The wounded in Medical should be healed enough to attend by then."
Bennett made a note of it and opened his mouth to speak again but the door opened and Abby stared across the room at the intruder. He leaned heavily on his crutches and seemed…different. The crutches made their usual click on the metal floor, but they were louder now, snapping against the floor as he crossed the room with purpose to take his usual seat next to her.
Marcus glanced at her briefly before he leaned the crutches against the table and asked, "Why wasn't I notified of this meeting?"
"We thought you wouldn't want to come," Gwen said uncertainly, casting a glance Abby's way.
Abby didn't know why he was there either. In the day since Wick's death, she hadn't seen him once. She had been in Medical, tending to the newly returned guards from Buffalo. She had spent her night in surgery with John Murphy, fixing Aidan Helm then two Grounders.
"You should leave that decision up to me, Gwen," Marcus said coldly. He turned to Abby and asked, "What's the status of the guards in Medical?"
She frowned at him, unsure of why he was acting this way. Still, she answered, "Harper's arm is completely broken, not just her wrist. Helm has a massive laceration in his side, we fixed it in surgery. Liza Warren is unconscious, she suffered a blow to the head. Jones Meikle's wound reopened from a blow by a sword. Hill is unconscious, I'm not sure if he'll wake. We have several Grounders who came with them, they have no healer." She looked him in the eye, hoping that him showing up to the meeting wasn't just a formal facade. She added, "I think you should speak to Ellicott."
The old Marcus — her Marcus — would have inquired about who Ellicott was and why he should speak to him, but this man brushed it off with a curt nod. She had sat across from this Kane many times on the Ark, she didn't know why he was back. She wondered what had made him resurface. She frowned as he turned to the others and her eyes met Gwen's. They wore matching expressions of concern and continued to share looks as Kane was filled in on the other issues they had already discussed.
The meeting was adjourned and the other members filed out. They cast wary glances at Kane before leaving the room, their parting whispers hung in the air. Abby rose to leave too but Kane said, "Stay."
She looked at him, surprised, as the door shut behind Bennett. She sank back into her chair and waited for him to say something. She didn't wait long, it was barely ten seconds before he said, "What happened to your hands?"
There was a hint of concern in his voice and she hadn't heard that from him in a while. She said matter-of-factly, "They are fine, Marcus."
"Abby," he chastised, brows lowering at her. "That is not an answer."
She sighed, running the fingers of one hand over the back of the other. "I needed the blood off."
"You act like you don't regularly have blood on your hands," he said tactlessly. She didn't know if he meant literally or figuratively, but she figured that, either way, he was right. She nodded and he continued, "You think you're the only one hurting, Abby. Other people feel it too. But you're on the Council, you can't let it get to you."
And there it was. They were back on the Ark. She had heard about his explosive argument with Raven — well, about Raven screaming at him. The way it sounded, he had sat there silently as she let all of Alpha Station know how she felt. Abby couldn't help but wonder if that was it, if that had been the turning point for him.
She frowned at him, his eyes making her feel uneasy for the first time in a long time. She said quietly, "I'm allowed to be weak, Marcus. I'm allowed to grieve." Her eyes shot to his, anger swelling up inside of her. She knew he wasn't okay, she knew she shouldn't be losing her temper with him, not after what he had been through. But when he was like this, she couldn't help herself.
Her voice was raised as she continued, "Just because you can't feel anything, Marcus, doesn't mean I don't. My daughter is missing, Wick is dead, the others in Buffalo are in danger! Yet you act like nothing has changed, like we're still in the past discussing the possibility of killing unknowing citizens in their sleep!"
He stared at her blankly for a moment and she wondered if she went too far. But his eyes turned cold again as he spat, "I do feel something, Abby. You think I don't care about Clarke? You think I'm not worried about her safety? You think I don't care that Wick's dead? You think I don't worry incessantly over the safety of everyone in Buffalo, of everyone I left hundreds of miles from us? Because I do, I just can't talk about it. Not after…"
He trailed off, tears in his eyes as he turned away from her. Abby felt the tears prick at her own eyes and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and reached for his crutches. Abby got to her feet and stood in front of him, blocking his path. She whispered, "Marcus, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
He nodded. "You shouldn't have."
She sighed and placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, this time he let it stay. She whispered, "It will be okay. We'll get there."
"Nothing will ever be okay, Abby," he said. He didn't look at her, but he didn't pull away either. She whispered, "It will. Please don't lose hope."
She knew he was going to say that he already had but he kept it to himself, something she was grateful for. She couldn't hear that, she couldn't hear that he had already given up though she knew he had. She wondered if she would have done the same had she gone through what he had too. She figured she would never know.
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead before she handed him his crutches and left the room.
The moonshine didn't taste the same as it used to. He stared down into the mug, at the liquid within, wondering why it wasn't as strong as fayawoda. In some ways, he missed the Grounder drink, but in others, it reminded him too much of the man who had inflicted the damage onto his very soul. He couldn't differentiate between culture and individual. He knew it was stupid, but he found that his mind wasn't working properly anymore — that it couldn't perform its usual tasks like it used to.
"Another, Chancellor?" Macallan asked, holding out the bottle to him. Kane nodded and he filled the mug again before moving down the bar to where Sinclair sat with Monty and Raven. The three of them glanced at Kane every few minutes, but they didn't join him or speak with him. He enjoyed the solitude their courtesy allowed.
"Mr. Chancellor?" Kane turned to find Cara Costa standing by his side. The little girl seemed so out of place in the bar and the fact wasn't lost on her. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she looked warily up at him.
"What can I do for you, Cara?" He asked, trying to hide the fact that he was on his third mug of moonshine.
She didn't seem to notice and said, "There's something you should see, mister."
He froze as she took his hand and pulled on it. She immediately released him and he stared at her for a moment before reaching for his crutches. She watched him stand unsteadily before leading the way out of the bar.
She walked slowly, allowing him the opportunity to keep pace. She didn't tell him where they were going, but as she led him across the yard, she talked about something else. "Is my dad coming home soon?"
Elijah Costa was in Buffalo, fighting alongside the other guards and the Grounder warriors. Kane had no idea when those guards would return or what state they would be in. He couldn't lie to the girl, but telling her the truth would hurt her. He worried that her father would never come home, that he and the rest of the guards he had sent would die hundreds of miles away.
Still, he found himself saying, "Yes, Cara, he'll be home soon."
The girl smiled and they continued in silence until they reached the edge of the football field. She pointed to the lone figure in the center of the grass and said, "I thought he shouldn't be alone."
Benja was kicking his football as hard as he could at the goalpost before chasing after it to repeat the process. Kane whispered, "Thank you, Cara," before he made his way to the boy. Benja didn't realize he was there under Kane was right next to him and stopped the progress of the ball with one of his crutches.
His eyes were red with tears and he glared at Kane. He spat, "Chit yu gaf? | What do you want?"
"English, please, Benja," Kane whispered.
The boy shook his head vehemently as he kicked the ball hard at the goalpost again. He said harshly, "Trigedasleng, beja, Markos."
Kane sighed and watched as the ball came near enough for Benja to kick again. The post rang out in the still night air as the ball collided with it. It soared across the field toward the makeshift bleachers. Kane headed toward them as Benja ran for the ball to continue his therapy.
He watched him for a while, wondering how long he had been at it. He knew it was late and that Cara had likely been with him before, keeping him company. But with Elijah away, there was no way that Helena wanted her daughter out nearing midnight. He wondered where Abby was, he hadn't seen her since she left the Council chamber earlier that day. She must be busy with the wounded for Cara to have come to him.
The longer he thought about it, he realized he hadn't seen Benja since before Wick's death. After leaving Raven, he had spent most of yesterday in his bedroom, reading. It was an old book his mother had loved, one he had always thought an odd choice. As he lay in bed, propped up by the pillows, the room outside was silent, no one entered or left all night. At another time — when he was fully himself — he would have been worried, but last night, he had been glad for the silence. Now, watching Benja's anger and grief take its toll on the football, he wondered where the boy had gone.
Wick had taken Benja under his wing recently. Besides being his football coach, the two had been seen in Engineering, Wick sometimes showing Benja how to use the tools or teaching him about basic chemistry. They all thought Wick would take Benja on as an apprentice when he was old enough. Kane couldn't help but wonder if Benja would give up on that dream now.
He looked up when he no longer heard the rhythmic thumping of the ball hitting the goalpost. Benja stood in the middle of the field, rolling the football beneath his foot. His eyes seemed vacant as he stared down at the grass. He looked suddenly at Kane and his eyes darkened. Benja's anger was no longer directed at the ball on the field Wick had helped construct for him; it was directed at Kane. He kicked the ball at the bleachers and Kane caught it just before it hit him in the face. He stared first at the ball then at Benja as he stomped across the field toward him.
He stopped just short of the bleachers and put his hands on his hips, his little shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he breathed heavily. His voice was harsh as he said, "Chomouda yu ste dula dison op? | Why are you doing this?"
"Dula chit op, Benja? | Doing what, Benja?" Kane asked, setting the football in his lap.
"Yu don swega em klin yu na ste os | You swore you would be okay," Benja spat. Kane opened his mouth to retort but the boy wasn't done with him. "Yu laik moubeda kom dison! Chit don kom au, kom au, nami? Pul yu op, yu nou na wan raun seintaim. | You are better than this! What happened, happened, okay? Pull yourself up, you're not dying too."
Kane stared at him for longer than he should have, but the boy stood his ground, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at him hard. Slowly, Kane nodded. Benja didn't believe him though because he kept going, "Chek yu au, Markos. Ha dison ste noseim kom chit don raun Polis kom au? En's nou— | Look at yourself, Marcus. How is this different from what happened in Polis? It's not—"
"En's noseim, Benja! | It is different, Benja!" He yelled, his anger swelling up inside of him. To his surprise, Benja didn't back down, his glare intensified and he took a step closer to Kane, his fists clenching. "Yu nou get chit kom au. | You don't know what happened."
Benja yelled, "Tel ai op hashta em! | Tell me about it!"
"No—"
"Ai don sin foto diyo in. Ai na gada em in | I have seen bad things. I can bear it," the boy interrupted. Kane watched the anger evaporate as he sat down next to him on the makeshift bleachers, all of the fight in him escaping.
Kane sighed and glanced down at the boy sitting close to him. Slowly, he wrapped his arm around him and Benja sank heavily into his side. He had lost so much in the past month — his family, his home, his friend — Kane couldn't withdraw trust too. He couldn't blame him for letting his anger get the better of him either, he was guilty of it often too.
Kane said, "Ai na tel yu ething op. | I will tell you everything."
They sat there for what seemed like hours — Kane talked and Benja listened. As the time waned on and the words came more naturally, Kane felt like a weight was being lifted off of him. He felt lighter than he had in months, ever since he was elected chancellor at the start of the year. He had paid the price of leadership many times over and it was a relief to talk it over with Benja, who proved to be the perfect listener.
"Em na ste os | It will be okay," the boy whispered when Kane finished. It was the first time Kane could see that statement being true.
Kane woke the following morning to Abby standing next to the bed. He stared at her groggily and she held out a brace to him. His crutches were nowhere in sight. His eyebrow cocked up and she answered his unasked question, "A gift from Raven."
"Raven?" He asked as he sat up in bed and flung the blanket off of him. Disappointment flickered on her face as it was revealed that he had slept in his clothes. It disappeared though and she was back to business within a moment.
She nodded and said, "She gave it to me this morning, she said she had some free time since I barred her from working."
"Why would she do this for me?" He asked, staring at the metal contraption.
"A peace offering," Abby said as she offered him the device again. He sighed and took it. "She doesn't like how she left things with you."
"I don't either," he muttered as he struggled with the straps. Abby knelt in front of him and helped. A smile tugged at his lips as she secured the brace around his knee. She didn't see it though and stood to leave him alone again.
"How long were you standing there?" He called as she neared the door, not wanting her to go.
"It's dawn, Marcus, you always wake with the sun," she said, a small smile on her face. His eyes followed her as she turned and left the room. He sighed and pushed himself from the bed.
Standing was easy with the brace, it did the work for his affected leg. He stared down at it with wide eyes before he tested it out by walking the length of the room slowly. He smiled and went to the dresser to grab a new shirt. He stripped off his old one and headed for the door as he pulled the new one on.
Benja was at the small two burner making tea, an old football game was paused on the projector, and Abby sat on the couch, medical reports in her hands. She didn't look up when he entered the room but Benja did, a small smile on his face. Kane returned it, feeling well despite what the day was about to bring. He walked slowly toward the boy and asked, "Chit kaina dison? | What kind is it?"
"Black," he said as he poured from the kettle. Kane smiled as he was handed a mug and took the third one, heading for Abby. He held it out to her and she took it absently. She looked up after a moment, her eyes wide as she realized it was his hand that had given her the mug. Her eyes softened as they settled on his and she smiled at him.
He sat next to her on the couch and Benja took his usual spot in the chair. He reached for the control and the game resumed, the images flickering on the flat wall. Kane watched, but knew that his usual enthusiasm wasn't there. But, for the first time in weeks, he felt like it might come back.
Abby reached out and absently ran her thumb over the back of his hand as he watched Arsenal get pummeled by Bayern Munich. He wondered if this could be normal, if this should be normal — watching football with his family on a quiet morning, Abby's hand on his as they drank tea. But the memorial crept into his mind, cozying up to stay with the ever-present thought that Clarke was still missing.
The game ended and Abby whispered, "It's time."
He nodded and Benja took the mugs from them to clean up before they set out from their quarters. They joined the group heading toward the area behind Alpha Station they had designated as their graveyard. Abby broke from him — she was leading the memorial they had decided. He continued with Benja and ended up next to Bennett.
He stood with Sinclair, the prisoner William Lacroix between them. Despite all the former guard had done, he deserved to mourn the loss of his friends properly. He had asked days ago when he had found out about their deaths, Kane couldn't refuse him.
The four bodies lay next to their graves and the memorial was simple like all of the others. Raven said a few words for Wick, as did Sinclair. Kane wrapped his arm around Benja as he stared at Wick's body being lowered into the ground. When it came time for someone to speak for the guards, he realized that he was the most likely person to say something as head of the guard. He knew them best. Abby didn't look at him though, she had prepared something and he knew it was better than anything he could have come up with at the time.
The sound of shovels in dirt filled the air and people began to head home or to the bar. Bennett and Sinclair turned, their grips on Lacroix's arms tight, as they started toward Lockup. The prisoner whispered, "Wait."
"Why?" Bennett asked.
"I want to say something," Lacroix said, glancing at Kane. "To him."
Kane frowned and glanced down at Benja. The boy nodded and walked toward Abby who was heading toward Medical. She looked Kane's way when Benja reached her but kept going, taking the boy's hand in her own. Kane turned back to Lacroix and waited.
He took a breath and said, "It didn't have to happen the way it did."
"No," Kane said slowly, wondering where the conversation was headed. "It didn't. It didn't have to happen at all."
Lacroix nodded. "You're right. It didn't. I know that. Are you going to keep me in Lockup for the rest of my life, Kane? Aren't you one to forgive?"
"I will never put a gun in your hands again," Kane said harshly, glaring at him.
"I don't expect you to," he replied quietly.
Kane frowned and glanced at Bennett then Sinclair, they wore matching expressions of concern. He said, "We'll discuss the terms of your imprisonment at the next Council meeting."
"Thank you, Chancellor," Lacroix said, not letting his delight show. Bennett raised an eyebrow at Kane as they led the prisoner away. Kane frowned, unsure of what to make of the situation but didn't have long to reflect on it.
"Hey," Raven said, walking to him with Jasper at her heels. She looked down at the gray brace on his knee. "That looks good. Is it working fine?"
He nodded. "Yes, thank you."
She said, "I had the time and needed to distract myself."
He didn't say anything to that and nodded again. He started to walk away but Jasper called, "Can our esteemed chancellor steal away from camp for a few hours?"
Kane held the highest authority in camp, of course he could leave. He nodded slowly and Jasper clapped him on the shoulder. He said, "Good! Meet us in thirty minutes in the hangar. We have a surprise for you."
One month later, I finally have a new chapter. But hey, moving and getting used to a new country isn't easy. I'm settled into Korea now, so hopefully it won't take this long for a new chapter - the key word there is "hopefully." Anyway, here it is at long last, I hope it was worth the wait. As usual, reviews are always welcomed and greatly appreciated.
-Lauren