His Immortal | Marcus Pike

13

Thompson nodded, understanding the predicament that Marcus was in. He could sense the tension and frustration in the other man's voice, and he knew that he was facing a difficult situation. He thought for a moment, his mind racing as he considered the options.

"You trust her?" He asked, his eyes searching Marcus's face for a sign of hesitation or doubt.

Marcus paused for a moment, taking another drag on his cigarette. He could see the scepticism in Thompson's eyes, and he knew that it was a valid question. He exhaled slowly, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. "I do," he said finally, his voice firm and unwavering. "I trust her."

"It is weird to me that she hasn't cried over her best friend being dead next to her though," he said.

Marcus's expression darkened as the conversation touched on the death of my friend. He knew how much I must be hurting, even if I hadn't shown it outwardly. He took a deep breath, his voice soft yet firm. "Everyone deals with grief differently. Just because she hasn't cried yet doesn't mean she isn't feeling it."

He could see the doubt in Thompson's eyes, but he couldn't blame him for questioning my demeanour. He had been taken aback by my stoicism and strength in the face of such unspeakable tragedy.

"I wouldn't trust her," he said.

Marcus's eyes flicked to Thompson, a flicker of anger igniting in his gaze. He knew that Thompson's words were more out of caution than anything else, but it still stung to hear the doubt in his voice.

He took a step towards him, his voice firm and steady. "Why not? She's been put through hell these past few days, and she's holding up better than most people would in her situation. I trust her."

"Pike, she's a victim,".

Marcus bristled at Thompson's words, his jaw clenching as he resisted the urge to snap at him. He knew that Thompson was just being cautious, but it pissed him off that he was questioning my integrity and loyalty.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I know she's a victim, Thompson. But that doesn't make her untrustworthy. If anything, it makes her more trustworthy."

He could see that Thompson still had his doubts, but he refused to give in to them. "You're wrong about her," he said firmly. "She's strong, she's smart, and she's more courageous than most people I know. She's been through hell and she's still standing. That's something to admire, no doubt."

Marcus glanced over as Andrew walked up to where he and Thompson were standing. He could already feel the tension in the air, and he knew that whatever Andrew had to say wasn't going to make things any better.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice tinged with irritation at the timing of Andrew's arrival.

Andrew ignored Marcus's tone and addressed Thompson directly. "I need to talk to you for a minute," he said, casting a glance at Marcus.

Marcus's annoyance grew as he sensed that whatever Andrew wanted to discuss, involved him as well. He suppressed a sigh and extinguished his cigarette, his eyes fixed on the other two men.

"Sure," Thompson responded, stepping away from Marcus and following Andrew a few feet away for a private conversation.

As I stepped out of my room, my gaze fell upon Andrew's face, something about it seeming familiar to me. Andrew's eyes met mine and a flicker of recognition passed over his features, but it was quickly masked by a neutral expression.

As I scrutinized Andrew's eyes, trying to figure out where I knew him from, he turned away briskly and walked away, disappearing into the hallway. His sudden departure only further piqued my curiosity and suspicion.

Marcus had been observing the interaction from a distance and he could see the puzzled look on my face. He knew that something about Andrew had gotten my attention, and his suspicions were heightened. He walked over to me, his eyes searching my face for any indication of what was going on in my mind. The fact that I had recognized Andrew, even if only slightly, troubled him.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, his voice low and concerned. "You looked like you recognized him."

"I do and I don't know where or when," I replied.

Marcus's expression became more serious as I spoke, his mind working overtime, trying to figure out where I could have seen Andrew before. He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, his voice was soft yet firm. "Think. Where do you remember seeing him?"

"I don't know," I said again.

Marcus's brow furrowed as he listened to my uncertain response. He could tell that something about Andrew had triggered a vague memory in me, but it was obviously not strong enough yet to bring anything to the surface.

He squeezed my shoulder gently, offering me a reassuring smile. "It's okay," he said. "Sometimes memories are tricky and they take time to resurface. Just try not to think about it too hard. It'll come to you eventually."

He glanced down the hallway where Andrew had disappeared, a frown playing at the corners of his mouth. The fact that I had some vague memory of Andrew was troubling and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just a case of mistaken identity.

Leaving Andrew's mysterious presence and disappearance for now, Marcus turned his attention back to me. "Feeling any better?" he asked, his voice low and gentle.

"I guess,".

Marcus studied my expression, sensing the hint of uncertainty in my tone. His eyes flicked to the bruise on my head, still visible despite the medical attention, and concern filled his gaze once again. He knew that I was still in pain, both physically and emotionally, and he wanted to do whatever he could to ease my distress.

He touched my arm gently, his voice soft "You don't have to pretend to be okay, you know. You've been through a lot, and it's normal to feel scared and shaken."

I just nodded. Marcus could sense the resignation in my response, and it tugged at his heart. He could see that I was exhausted and overwhelmed, and all he wanted to do was take the pain away.