He climbed up the highest tree he could find. Branch after branch, he kept going until he settled on the top. Behind Mount Weather, the sun was slowly making its way down the sky, and he smiled slightly at the bright colors, shades of orange and purple. Clouds heavy with rain still lingered above him, making it impossible for his clothes to dry.

He stayed here, just enjoying the landscape before him. Mind empty, he let himself relax for the first time since his departure, forgetting about the way his wet clothes stuck to his body, about the cold that wouldn't leave his chest, about the pounding in his head. He took in a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of leaves, flowers and grass. Eyelids heavy, muscles aching, he fell into a uneasy sleep.

He crouched down beside Abby, who still had to move. She was freezing. He turned her on her back and brushed away stands of mud-covered hair. Brows furrowed, lines of worry between her eyes, she looked as beautiful as always. He took a moment just to admire her again, as he had done so many times before, then leapt into action.

One arm behind her shoulders and one beneath her knees, he lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the sleeping bag. He sat next to her and positioned himself so that her head was on his lap. He bent forward, placing a light kiss on her forehead, his thumb slowly caressing her cheek.

Her skin felt like home. Her skin was home.

Marcus opened his eyes. Something was wrong. He looked around him, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. He still sat on a branch, his back against the trunk of the large tree. Night had fallen, moonlight allowing him to observe the sleeping forest.

A crackling noise. His breath caught in his throat. He tensed, every muscle still as he waited for another sound. It came, a while after, but not as he had expected it.

It was a song. A lullaby. One he knew very well.

The night winds are sighing,

Go to sleep, baby,

The crickets are crying ;

Sleep 'til the dew

On the green grass is winking

Sleep 'til the morning sun,

Wakens you blinking.

He hummed the tone while climbing down. His mother used to sing it to him every night, just after telling him stories of how magnificent Earth was. She would sat on his bed, allowing him to rest his back against her chest. He remembered the feeling of her soft humming vibrating through him, of her hand in his hair, of her cheek on the top of his head. He remembered how he would sing the end with her, and her smile as she got up, tucked him in and kissed him good night.

His voice was hoarse, still he sang, in tune with the other.

Warm in their woolly folds,

Lambkins are resting,

Soft in their swaying beds,

Birdies are nesting ;

All through the night,

In your cradle lie dreaming,

'Til the bright sun

Through the window comes

Streaming.

He followed it. He walked without thinking, straight forward. Seeing but not watching.

Suddenly feeling very hot, he threw off his jacket, letting it fall to the ground. It didn't help. He was sweating. The last part of the song started to fade in the distance, and he took off running. He didn't know why it was so important, what drew him to it, but he ran. He wasn't fast. His body was too weak and he soon was out of breath. He kept going.

Off in the distance,

A hoot owl is calling,

Into sweet dreams,

Little babes should be falling ;

Hush-a-bye, baby,

It's time you were sleeping,

'Til rays of sunlight

At morning come creeping.

He came to a stop just as the song ended. He leaned on a tree for support. His vision began to blur, he couldn't focus. What was happening to him ?

''You're quite the man now, son.''

He turned around so fast he fell backwards. No one. A man's voice he didn't recognize, yet so familiar. He shivered.

''A shame it is, that you turned out so bad.''

A knock in his stomach. He could feel pearls of sweat run down his back and face. Another shiver, not of fever but fear. He didn't understand what was going on, and it frightened him more than anything. More than it should.

''He's right, you know.''

This time, a vague figure appeared.

''Mom ?''

She nodded, smiling. Yet, it wasn't her usual, kind smile, but a twisted one. The look she was giving him wasn't one of love and fondness.

''You left me to die. You didn't save me. You didn't save anyone, you killed them. You killed them for your own liking.''

She took a step forward. He moved back. He shook his head to protest, covered his hears with his hands to stop the flow of words. It didn't work. He brought his legs up to his chest, head in his arms. Reduced to a quivering mass.

Something brushed against his shoulder. A worry voice followed.

''Marcus ?''

Relief flood through his veins. Abby. He looked up to meet a pair of brown eyes.

''You're okay ?''

He nodded. He extended an arm for her to help him to his feet, but she didn't take it. He got up, still unsteady but ready to go.

''What was that ?''

It should have surprised him. It didn't.

''You saw it too ?''

''Yes. You're not crazy, Marcus.''

He knew he wasn't. He hoped he wasn't. She didn't ask any other question and began to walk away. He followed her, afraid to say something, afraid of what would come out of his mouth. They walked in silence for several minutes.

A bang of pain shot through his right ear and cheek. An arrow. It flew by him, scraping his skin, to finish its course in a nearby tree. Grounder territory. He shook his head, clearing his view, aware of his surrroundings for the first time since he woke up.

He looked around. Abby had disappeared.

Gunshots startled her. She took off towards the sound, dropping her bag to the ground. She ran past a black jacket, barely noticing it.. Arrows were on the ground, in the trees.

When she woke up, she was in her underwears, the sleeping bag carefully tucked around her. Instantly, she guessed what had happened. The last thing she remembered was his dark form slumped against a tree stump, and now he was gone. Again.

It still rained, though not as hard as the night before. The willow tree she was under did a good job, allowing her clothes to partly dry. She got up and put them on, shivering at the cold material. She couldn't afford to waste more time. She didn't know how much time had passed since Marcus had woken up, what she did know was that she needed to hurry if she wanted to catch up with him.

He was stubborn, so was she.

That's when she found him. Lying on his back, three arrows in the chest. Three arrows. Blood. There was blood everywhere. Around him, on him. Everywhere it shouldn't be. It tainted his clothes, his skin.

She grinned against his lips.

She stepped closer. His mouth was partly open, grasping for air. A lung was pierced. Her body beginning to shake, she fell to her knees by his side.

''Marcus ?''

Her voice was barely a whisper, yet he heard her. He turned his head, his eyes locking with hers. He tried to say something but his quick and shallow breathing wouldn't allow him.

His hands found their way up to her cheeks.

She knew then. She knew there was nothing she could do. She knew that he was dying and that she would be witnessing every witnessing every moment of it.

She felt something brush against her. She looked down to see his hand searching for hers. She took it, giving it a slight squeeze. Until the end.

''I'm here, I'm here.''

The soothing words muttered in his ear didn't help. She felt him spasm in pain, he let out a small moan.

She embraced the warm feeling of his strong arms around her back.

Another attempt. He opened his mouth again. This time, blood flooded out of it. A lot of blood. He coughed, sending red drops on her face.

''Shhh, don't try to talk, it's okay.''

No, it wasn't okay. No, he wanted to talk. He needed to tell her something. She had to know.

He whispered loving words in her ear, his breath hot on her skin.

''In peace, may you leave the shore.''

Pain and panic hit him when he realized that he wouldn't be able to tell her, that his last words would be ones of hate.

Tears washed the blood off of her face.

She tried to calm him but he seemed beyond the point of understanding her. He was too far gone.

''In love may you find the next.''

Her heart melted at the sight of his boyish smile.

She brought her lips to his, ignoring the strong iron taste. She welcomed one last time the familiar feeling, her other hand gently stroking his hair. When she moved, his eyes were closed, his heartbeat nothing more than a faint thump.

''Safe passage on your travels,''

Her forehead was against his. He focused on the warmth she was offering him, vainly trying to breathe the pain away. Everything hurt. The worse was his heart. He could feel how every weak beat sent the blood in his body, out of his body. He could feel the shards left by sharp, loathing words.

He laughed as her long hair tickled his stomach.

''Unti our final journey to the ground.''

His eyes remained closed despite his desperate longing to see her face again. One last time. To get just a glimpse of her delicate features, a final reminder to carry with him for his new journey.

She rubbed her nose against his.

A few tears fell on his face, running down his chin to return to the ground. She didn't want to end the prayer. She had to, for him and for her. A final goodbye. No. A promise.

''May we meet again''

His grip loosened.

She let his hand slide down her wrist. There was no point in holding him back anymore.

His hand fell just as grounders surrounded her.