Title: Rutilus Viridis
Summary: AU: Marcus only has eyes for her. Unfortunately, this woman isn't Blair Williams. One-sided Marcus/Kate.
Prompt: "Red Hair"
Author: Sakura123 (weber_dubois22)
Characters: Marcus Wright; Kate Connor; Blair Williams; John Connor
Word Count: 1605
Disclaimer: Terminator and Terminator Salvation and all things related is property of its rightful owners. I own nothing save the storyline and original characters.
Authors Note: This idea came to me after watching AVATAR (I've no idea why though), a very beautiful Kate Connor icon made by a LiveJournal user named feky and the stumbling across another "Marcus Lives" fanfiction, which I swore was going end up as a Marcus/Kate tale with the way the author had written the interaction between Kate and Marcus, but was a Marcus/Blair tale.
Sixteen years ago, if someone were to ask Marcus if he'd ever recite the phrase, "how do I adore thee?" let alone write it to someone he loved (or liked), he would've probably told them to fuck off. Marcus was not one for romantic sentiments, let alone love letters, he never saw much of a point in them. Especially when you could express your affections towards someone in so many other ways.
But, damn if she didn't have him wanting to say those exact words to her. Marcus wasn't even sure when it had started. He suspected it occurred when he woke up for the second time since his death and found her hovering him, checking his vital signs - things that should've stopped after he had his heart cut from his chest. But they were still there, he was still there.
Marcus could hear John's steady breathing next him, he could hear Kate's breathing right above him. He opened his eyes in time for her head to block out the harsh light of the operating light. Kate's red hair seemed to absorb the light, creating a soft halo-esque glow. Her hand touched his chest, the tingle of warmth that spread across his skin made his breath hitch. If it weren't for the tingle of pain staring up in his chest, he would've sworn he was dead and looking at a real angel. Kate's green eyes acknowledged his staring, her face, taut with concentration, melted into relief. "Welcome back, Marcus," Was all she said before her hand slipped away from his chest and she returned to John's bedside.
Afterward, Marcus spent most of his recovery dreaming of red and green. There wasn't a solid object in his mind that represented the colors, not even Kate made an appearance. There was nothing except a swirl of red and green. It was a like disco inside his head without all the colors of the rainbow reflecting off a huge glass ball. Marcus woke up every time hungry for apples, which the resistance base had very little of.
Whatever it meant, Marcus made a point not to dwell on it for too long. He saw a lot of Kate while he was still inside infirmary. Her check-ups for him were infrequent, but he enjoyed what little time she spent on him, making sure his vitals were stable. He pretended he was sleep most of the time so he could listen in on her and John's conversations. From what he gathered, whatever mistrust John regarded him with before had long since diminished him, thankful for his help after saving his and Kyle's life.
Marcus snorted a little at that; Rescuing Kyle was something he would've done without thinking, but helping Connor - now that was something he really thought about not doing. Being strung up on magnetized cross for robots, accused of trying to murder John's entire family (which included Kyle in some bizarre way) before his own conception and threatened twice over with napalm and later, a pistol, wasn't something Wright was willing let off with a shrug. Nevertheless, if John was willing to continue to foster peace between them, then he was willing to do so as well.
Afterward, their conversations got a little more personal. Marcus would've never figured Connor for the affectionate man he was when he was with Kate, regardless of her current condition. From their distant and somewhat standoffish demeanors alone, Marcus never would've assumed they were involved in a romantic sense. No, unfortunately for him, Kate loved this guy, he could see it in the way she looked at him, when he spoke her or she just sat next to him. It was the same way Blair looked at him whenever she was with him, the same way Marcus looked at Kate when no one was looking.
His recovery was quicker than Connor's, who was at the halfway point of his healing process. Neither man had really spoken to each other outside of the occasional question about the base, which John was quick to fill him in on. Marcus absorbed the information, knowing he would come to rely on it once he was up and moving around. It was the last time they actually talked that month. Afterward, Kate entered the infirmary and put John under after he threatened to get out the bed against her medical advice. The man gave her a look that would inspire murder, but Kate remained steadfast in her decision as pumped the last of the sedative into the IV-line before he could protest.
Kate stood by her husband's side until he was completely under the affects of the sedative, with one last wistful look at John she proceeded over to his bed. Marcus sat on the edge, wiggling his toes while his downcast eyes regarded the regenerative skin slowly returning his metallic hands. With a sigh he raised his head to meet her gaze, a unconscious grin graced his features. "What's the prognosis, doc?" He asked.
Kate quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say 'what do you think'? He simply shrugged and waited for her answer. Placing her hands on her hips, she tossed her hair out of her face. "Whatever injuries you sustained, internal or external, are of no consequence to your health now. The fact your alive is a miracle-"
"Yes. For all intents and purposes, you should be dead," Kate answered. Marcus regarded his chest wryly.
She continued. "Your accelerated healing-" She pointed to his hands, a odd mixture of skin, muscle and metal, "-seems to be doing the rest. It's especially helping with your constitution. I doubt you could get sick though."
Marcus shrugged. "I can be killed, who's to say I can't get sick?"
Kate nodded silently. "There was an odd scar in the back of your-"
"Oh, that I just-" Marcus made a weird clawing gesture above his head with his hand. "Ripped the interface chip-thing out of my head. Nothin' important."
"Nothing important?" Kate repeated, doubt heavy in her voice.
Marcus could feel his face tightening as his lips threatened to transform his grin into a smile. "Can I go now, Kate?"
"Sure," Came the clipped reply. Marcus hopped off the bed, his knees bent normally, there wasn't even a hint of the machinery that lay beneath his organic shell, which struck Marcus as odd, especially now that he was aware of what he was. He walked passed Kate in a casual manner, as he headed toward the door Kate turned to face him. "Don't cause any trouble."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Marcus called over his shoulder.
And he didn't. Marcus was quick to situate himself with Blair, who'd spent a great deal of her time looking after Star and Kyle in his absence. Neither Kyle or Star were particularly used to the type of 24-hour watch they were getting - Kyle especially, given he was at the age where rebellion against adult authority was practically a given - but the appearance of Marcus more than made them forget they were being shadowed by then Native American woman. Blair certainly forgot she was shadowing them, her attention was completely focused on Marcus now that he was out of the infirmary.
"How are you?" She asked.
"I'm alright," Marcus sighed, rotating his shoulder. "A little sore, but I'm good."
"Your sure?" Blair's hand found a way to his face, Marcus watched as her palm ghosted over the stubble growing his face as if searching for something else. His soul, maybe? Marcus thought warily. Without hesitation, he took hold of her hand before it could fall back to her side, his eyes examined the palm of her hand with great interest. Blair felt her breath catch when he pressed his lips, so warm compared to the hand currently wrapped around her own, against the center of her palm. "Positive," He responded.
That night Marcus dreamed of red, long wavy paint strokes of red cascading over a black background and pale skin. Pulling himself from out of Blair's arms, Marcus went against his better judgment in search for an apple. He argued with himself that he shouldn't be hungry, machines don't get hungry, but the nagging feeling in stomach persisted.
He crept along the halls of the base, avoiding all patrols by zeroing in on their heart beats and keeping out of sight until they passed. As Marcus continued toward the pantry, on the way there he stopped in at the infirmary. Kate was right where he knew she'd be; slouched in a chair, head resting against the wall, one hand on her protruding stomach, the other firmly wrapped around her husband's hand.
The latter part didn't bother Marcus too much as he was completely focused on how her hair fell around her face, curling inward just past her collar bone. What he wouldn't give to have a moment alone with her.