Title: Guide You Through the Deep
Spoilers: 1 x 11 The Calm
Summary: He let his fingertips lightly skim the slight burn on her skin. Then he let them move slowly downward along her cheekbone then her jaw. He held her chin in his hand. He held his breath.
A/N: There may or may not be a follow up one shot to this piece based off of the events of We Are Grounds (Part 1 & 2).
His hand was burned. The flesh was seared and blistered. But the pain was the furthest thing from his mind as he sat in service bay Beta holding her against him. His breath was staggering, and he could feel hers against his neck. Hot, quick, and struggling. He begged softly, "Just hold on, Abby. We're going to get you out of here. More help is on the way."
Just getting the bay's doors operational was a success in giving all those locked inside a fighting chance. He held her close, despite the heat radiating from both of them. The cool air, little as it was, a blessing to their parched throats.
She moved her hand up his arm, gripping it tightly. "Don't leave me here." Her voice was weak as she moved her face even deeper into his neck. Her other hand had slid behind him, gripping the back of his shirt as she held him in an intimate embrace. "Marcus..."
He let his cheek fall on the side of her head as he pulled her tighter into the embrace. "We thought-I thought I lost you." He never knew just how much he cared about her until he was faced with the possibility of living without her. So much had changed over the course of a few weeks. So much for the good. She had become his beacon of hope.
She wanted desperately to reassure him, to promise him that she was there to stay, but her body was so tired. She was so tired. Passing out from sheer exhaustion, she slumped against him. A dead weight.
He let his head fall back, eyes clenched tightly shut. He could feel her uneven breathing as it rose and fell against his chest. He moved his hand up, tangling in her hair and pressed his lips to crown of her head. "I've got you."
It was at least another half a hour before they cleared the debris that covered the main entrance to the bay. He was grateful to the oxygen mask pressed to his face, but he turned and cradled her gently as he pressed it to her face. He waved off Wick and Sinclair as they tried to take her from him. "I've got her. Help the others."
Somewhere along the way, she had become his responsibility. One he took as serious as every law he'd ever held in high regard.
He pushed himself to stand. His legs trembled slightly under his own weight plus hers. He felt his knees buckle as he fell back against the wall.
Wick rushed forward, intent on taking the doctor from his grasp. "Sir, let me help. Please?"
He growled, "I have her. Get the others out of here. Get them to medical." A new sense of purpose came over him, giving him a second wind. He shifted her, getting a better hold on her. He made his way toward medical. With each step, he felt stronger.
"Marcus." She tried to open her eyes. They felt like to leaden weights. "I can-can walk." She struggled to sit up in his under her own steam only to fall back. Her arm went around his neck as she felt like she was falling. She swallowed thickly. "So, so thirsty."
"I know, Abby. We're almost there." He shifted her once more. His embrace was almost intimate with his cheek pressed to the side of her head as he stepped through the threshold into medical. "I need water. Give her my share." He gently laid her in a bed and pulled the stool to her bedside. He sat down and lifted his hand to brush hair from her face. "Abby, come on. Sweetheart, you've got to fight it. Fight it and let me see those eyes."
Her eyes fluttered once. Twice. And finally she was staring into Marcus' hazel orbs. Her lips parted. "You saved me." Her hand moved up, slowly caressing his cheek. Her motions were limited as her hand started to go limp. She felt him taking it and giving it a gentle squeeze.
He took the cup of water as it was passed to him. He helped her to sit up slightly. "Now drink slowly, Abby. Just sip it if you can." Guzzling the entire contents would make her vomit. He rubbed her arm gently as he looked around at the people that were coming in and out of medical.
She obeyed him. Her mind instantly aware that for the first time she wasn't trying to go against Marcus' orders. Progress. She pushed the cup away. Her head shaking slowly side to side. "That's enough. I'm needed here." She was slowly regaining her strength. There was no way Jackson could handle the influx all on his own.
She met Marcus' eyes and gave him a tentative smile. "I'm good. Promise." Her hand moved over his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sure the Chancellor needs you, Marcus." She shifted on the bed and got slowly to her feet. She pressed the cup back into his hand. "You drink up. Doctor's orders."
He watched her move away from him. He felt his heart being clenched tightly in her grip. And she had no idea. His body gave a slight shudder. She was truly a force to be reckoned with. He admired her tenacity and spirit.
He sipped at the water and felt his body replenishing much needed energy. He stood, careful to avoid getting in the medical staff's way. He met her eyes for a moment as she worked on a patient from Factory station. He nodded faintly before he disappeared through the medical bay doors.
His hand burned. It was the first time since finding her that he'd given it any attention. He glanced back, knowing he could get her to fix him up, but knowing he could do it himself as well.
After his work was finished.
He sat awkwardly on the end of his bed. He glanced around at his small apartment. The window was dark. The only light came from the emergency lights that were on in this section of the Ark. He held the gauze in one hand along with a small tube of ointment. He'd managed to sneak it out, a questionable offense, but he hadn't wanted any attention being given in his direction when so many were worse off. He'd return the unused supplies and confess his crime, but for now, he'd just muddle through.
A faint knock sounded on his door. Then it started to slide open. His head swiveled in the direction. "I wish to not be disturbed." His eyes locked on her, causing him to glance away in shame.
"Marcus, I've been everywhere looking for you." She stepped inside, ignoring his request for solitude. "I wanted to thank..." Her words died on her tongue as she saw the angry blistering and burning on his palm. "What happened?" She took his hand immediately in hers and gently started looking it over.
"The maintenance shaft was upwards of the temperatures of hell. I burned it." His heartbeat quickened, racing to keep up with his thoughts. "It's nothing. I can take care of it." He still held the medical supplies on his lap, almost as if he was trying to hide them.
She frowned. "You'll let me do it, or it won't get done at all." She sat down beside him, turning to get a better hold on his hand. Her eyes moving over the marred flesh. "Wick told me what you did. Marcus, that was reckless and stupid." She lifted her eyes up to him and whispered, "Thank you."
His eyes had remained on their hands, but he lifted them. Their eyes met. "I'd do it again. And again, Abby. I had to try." He flinched as she began to put the ointment on his skin. First, it burned, then it soothed. He relaxed as she began to wrap the gauze loosely around his hand.
Once it was secured, she gave him a hesitant smile. Wonders never ceased. She didn't release his hand. Not like she should have. Not like she wanted to want to. Her heart skipped a beat as she watched his hand come up to caress her forehead. "It's nothing. Doesn't even hurt."
He let his fingertips lightly skim the slight burn on her skin. Then he let them move slowly downward along her cheekbone then her jaw. He held her chin in his hand. He held his breath. "I thought you were gone. That I'd never see you again. Abby..."
Her throat tightened. Every instinct told her to run. Run as fast as she could, but instead she was closing the gap between their mouths. "I'm right here." Their lips met in a tentative first kiss. Her emotions were running rampant. Her arms were moving around his neck, pulling his body into hers.
Their mouths met again and again. Emotions fueled their intensity. His hands moved along her back, pulling her so she was half straddling him. Their lips parted. He had to look up at her from his position, and he found he liked this vantage point absolutely the best. His hands moved to her hips. "Abby," he breathed, trying to calm the storm of emotions as it surged inside him.
He didn't want to stop kissing her. He wanted her closer. But he couldn't take advantage. Not when so much had happened.
She shook her head. Her fingers pressed to his lips. "Shut up," she growled. "Just shut up and don't stop." Her mouth replaced her fingers. She ground down on his thigh as she straddled one leg. Her body had been woken up by his kisses. She couldn't stop now.
His hands moved from her hips. He drug his blunt nails up her bare back, pushing her shirt up in the process. He pushed a little farther, causing her to raise her arms. After removing the shirt, his mouth fell on hers once more. A moan got lost between them as their tongues touched for the first time.
Her hands rested on his shoulders. She pushed him away slightly as she moved to stand. Her lips curved into a smirk as she reached behind her, undoing her bra. She managed to toe off her boots. As she undid the snap on her jeans.
Everything was a blur to him. Clothing was being discarded here and there, and suddenly, but not so much really, they stood facing each other naked.
Her hands moved along his arms and chest. She stepped into him as her fingers danced along his skin. They seemed to know exactly what they wanted as they made their way into his hair. She tugged him ever so slightly down, meeting him somewhere in the middle.
The kisses were slow. He knew she'd only ever been with Jake. An easy thing to do while living on the Ark, and it terrified him. He'd been with his share, always a warm body, but never a warm heart. Never someone he'd respected or admired. They were never her.
To say it was an elaborate dance to the bed would be a lie. Even in the so few feet it took to get them there. Her hands had guided and encouraged each step, each touch. Each kiss. Her lips beat a path along his jaw, sucking and nipping. She could feel his desire for her trapped between her body and his. She trembled, never knowing someone else could want her so desperately in that way. "Marcus," she whispered, all but begging him to take control. She needed this from him.
His hands slid around her trim waist to ease her mouth back up to his. The kiss was deep and sure and right, and so he lowered her carefully to the bed. His bed. He wanted to worship her, lavish kisses and touches and perfection to every inch, but something else kicked in.
He had almost lost her. Almost. Lost. Her.
The atmosphere changed. Their eyes met just as their bodies connected in a way that couldn't be undone. He loomed over her, moving slowly inside her. His lips fell on hers as their bodies began to move, writhing with desire and an ache to fill something they hadn't known needed it.
Her hands ghosted over his skin. Her breath hot in its wake as her lips hungrily kissed his shoulder, his throat, anywhere within her reach. A moan rose up between them as the pace quickened to shallow thrusts and then he was deeper than he'd ever gone. Her nails dug into his skin. They left angry red welts in their wake. "Marcus."
His mouth pressed to hers once more. It was all too much for him. The emotion, the intensity, the way she felt beneath him. He couldn't add the sound of her voice. It would break him. Break him beyond repair.
She managed to turn him onto his back. Her knees pressed into his sides as she rose and fell over him. She seemed to understand his need to be quiet without much more prompting from him. Her hands rested on his shoulders.
Then he was half sitting, holding her around her waist as he lavished kisses and tongue strokes to her breasts and her neck. He bit her shoulder, marking her where only she could see. His body was alive.
Ironic that he had to be on the verge of death to feel this alive.
She felt the ripple of pleasure low in her stomach as he gave her exactly what she needed like he'd been doing just that all her life. Her arms went slack as she fell to his chest, burying her face in his neck. She quaked against him. "Don't stop," she whimpered.
His arms moved around her, holding her close, as he kept up his slow and deliberate pace. He felt himself nearing his own peak and buried his face in her mane of hair as he came undone. The gasp was torn from his lips. Torn from somewhere so deep, he was certain he had died in that moment when all he felt was nothing and everything at the same time.
As he came back to himself, he gently rolled them so that she wasn't on top of him anymore. Instead, she lay beside him. Her hair fanned out on the pillow behind her. He cradled her gently against his shuddering frame.
"Marcus," she breathed, tears shown in her eyes at his name.
He cupped her cheek, peppering kisses to her lips and jaw. He desperately wanted to put off this conversation, fear gripping the deepest parts of him that she'd laid bare. "We don't have to talk," he assured her. "I know what this was...for you."
She moved her brown eyes over his chest to gaze into his face. "Is that so?" She shifted and pressed her forehead to his. "How can you when I don't?" It was as close to an admission as she could give him. "Can't it be what it is, Marcus?"
Her name from his lips always did something to him, but right now in this moment, it was almost as if she was announcing to all of space that she was his. He cupped her cheeks gently, running the pad of his thumb across her cheekbones. He gave a slow nod. "It can, Abby."
She shifted against him, coming to rest against his chest. She felt protected as his arm went around her. His fingers stroked slowly down her side, as if he was counting her ribs.
Neither of them knew what their future held. If it held anything, but right now, he held everything and more. And for once, that was enough.
The rest they'd figure out together.