Many thanks to EliseLiv (Ao3) / johwatsons (Tumblr) for correcting this fiction, I love you dear 3

He laid down on the dirt with nothing but a thin blanket to keep him warm for the winter night. Hands behind his back, his eyes traveled between the many stars he could see through the leaves. He had always enjoyed watching them, first on the Ark, then on Earth, their familiarity reassuring him in the darkest of times. Tonight however, tonight they didn't offer any comfort. They couldn't fill in the void that was now in his heart. They couldn't prevent the deep sorrow that threatened to overthrow him. They couldn't make him alive again. Nothing could. Except...

He pried his eyes away from the stars and turned on his side. His hands were still covered in blood. His blood. The pain was gone, long gone. It helped him, to focus on something else, to let his mind drift away, far away. Exhausted, he still struggled to keep the sleep away, afraid of what awaited him if he didn't. Afraid of what twisted memories lingered in the shadows of his head.

His first night alone. No one walking in the corridors on the other side of the door, no one wandering between the tents. No one cuddled under his arm. No human warmth but his own.

Too many drinks. Way too many drinks. Stronger than what they were used to. Both were responsible, both knew what they were doing when they poured cup after cup. Both said things that would never be forgotten.

They should have known, when the subject of Jake's death was brought up, that they better stop before things got too heated. Anger fueled their words, they didn't think anymore, they didn't understand the impact of their own words.

''Don't you dare put the blame on me ! You were the one who sold him out, he would still be alive if you had kept your mouth shut ! No wonder Clarke - ''

The strenght of the slap made him take a few steps back. He barely even registered it as he saw tears fill her eyes.

He had deserved it. He deserved every single thing she had said. The shocklashing was nothing compared to the pain he had put her through. His breathing quickened at the thought, he felt sick. He tried to calm down but his muscles kept shaking. Nausea hit him. He managed to get up and move away before crouching down and emptying the contents of his stomach.

His hand balled into a fist. He never had any issues with punching people out of anger, men or women, but this was different. Abby was different. He couldn't bare to see her like this. He turned away. The apology was on his lips.

''I'm out of here.''

This wasn't was he intended to say. This wasn't what he intended to do. Yet, here he was, throwing things in his bag, ready to leave everything and everyone behind.

He flinched as her harsh words hit the mark. His eyes itched from trying to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't let her see how much it affected him, how much it hurt him, how much it destroyed him.

A loud thunderclap startled him, heavy rain started to pour on the small hill. The moon was no longer visibile, its light faint and weak, making it hard to see past the treeline. The dirt became mud, the wind blew on his soaked clothes. He sat still, his back and head resting against a tree stump, too numb to move and find a shelter. Too numb to feel the hands suddenly on his cheeks.

She let her hands wander on his chest before settling on his heart, reassured by the strong beat under her skin. She snapped her fingers in front of his face, called his name several times, to no avail. She sighed, bitting her lower lip in concentration.

Looking around, she found his pack and rummaged through it. No tent. A curse escaped her lips. Stupid man. Stupid man who wouldn't be in this situation if she hadn't made him. Guilt took over her, she closed her eyes, unable to face the consequences of her actions.

He hurt her. Her only reply was to fight back just as hard, to pain him just as much. She knew what she was saying, she was in control. She knew what would tear him apart. Her face expressionless, she uttered words that would break him.

''How can you even face yourself after everything you did ? All these deaths, all these people you murdered ! It's on you and you alone ! Your mother must have hated you ! You dishonored everything she ever taught you !''

Her tongue burned. She watched as he looked at the ground, jumping every time her voice went up. Good.

Her own pack only had a sleeping bag she had thought of bringing when she hurried after him, desperate to apologize and make things return the way they were before. She got up and set it under a willow tree. The thunder seemed to be away enough for it to be safe, though the rain still had to lessen.

In her haste to get back to Marcus, she stumbled in the mud and fell forward. Hands and knees on the ground, she lost it. Pain filled sobs shook her body, tears running down her already wet face. She screamed. She let everything out. She couldn't hold back anymore. Not after what happened. Not after what she had done.

He disappeared in the dark forest. He was gone. He was not coming back. She took the time to calm down, to sit and take a deep breath. Minutes stretched in a hour. Her eyes wandered around the tent she shared - she had shared - with him. He was everywhere, from the sweater on the top of a chair to the book he had been reading, Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens.

That's when she realized what just happened. What they had both done. She got up so quickly that she lost her balance and fell back on the bed. She wanted to lie down and forget everything, to close her eyes and dream. Dream about the feeling of his warm hand on her naked back, of his fingers in her hair, of his breath on her lips, of his skin against hers. Dream of the smiles they shared, of the sweet scent of the other's body.

Once more, she stood up, ready to run after him.

She didn't move for a while. Sobs still gripped her forever damaged heart, she couldn't stop. She tried to get up, but didn't have the strength and ended up face down in the mud. She coughed. So tired...

She raised her head, taking a last look at Marcus's still limp figure, before muttering a few words for the wind to take away.

''I'm sorry...''