Author's Note: Here is my first Survivors BBC fanfic series: Nightmares and Naivety. Of course, nothing here belongs to me. The characters, settings, episodes, etc., is all property of Terry Nation, his publishers, as well as BBC and the respective owners of the show. No copyright infringement is intended.

Well, I hope you like this, and thanks for checking it out! Constructive Reviews are always appreciated!

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Survivors BBC - Nightmares and Naivety, Part I

"Leader De Facto"

Abby Grant sat in her sofa bed with a start, breathing heavily with beads of sweat tarnishing her furrowed brow. Her sudden wake was much to the surprise of Gregory Preston, who had obviously thought her sound asleep as he'd carried the glass of water he'd been seeking. Now that it was now all over him, and he'd have to get another one, he figured he might as well talk with his fellow survivor and new friend, and find out what had frightened her so.

"Christ, Abby," he whispered as loud as he could without waking the others, "I swear that is not natural." Surely he didn't imagine that severely disappointed look on her face…She had expected Peter.

Since Abby was still pursuing her relentless search for her son, Peter, she had situated herself right in the foyer of the house, where she'd be sure to hear any little noise coming from outside, especially should that noise belong to a person, which it mostly did not. She had told the others it was to protect them, but she refused to let one of the men sleep there, because they were too valuable and would become tired by constantly waking in the night. Just to humour the one-in-a-million chance that eleven year-old Peter had survived the virus, was still alive and well, and would drop by their house out of all of them in the GB.

Now Abby forced herself to laugh, and distractedly began tracing the intricate needlepoint pattern on her sheet with her wedding ring finger, managing a, "Well, I suppose it is natural, it's only mother's instinct after all. It must be heightened by the fact that I know Peter's still out there and needs me."

Greg smiled ruefully, not having the heart to tell her about the less than one percent chance that Peter was still out there, fit and healthy. Abby was convinced that he survived the virus, because she had, but the boy suffered from leukemia and likely had a very weak immune system. He could also tell, though he hadn't known her that well, that Abby was not telling the truth about what had scared her. "Have you been having that dream again? I thought they stopped a while ago." In reality, it had been weeks since Greg had gotten up to get a glass of water during the night. Maybe they had never stopped, and that would explain the dark abyss of rings under Abby's eyes, her lack of energy, and her shorter temper, even for Najid.

Abby's breathing returned to normal and she wiped her brow with the sleeve of her pajamas before looking Greg straight in the eyes to feign confidence. "I…they have stopped. I'm fine, honestly, don't worry about me. I wanted to wake up early to get breakfast on anyway." She moved her legs so they faced the front door, shuffled onto her feet, and with her back to Greg, started fixing the sheets on the sofa so it looked as if she had never been there.

Greg rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud, Abby, it's three o'clock in the morning." She obviously didn't know what time it was.

Abby stopped point blank before turning back to face Greg. Smiling weakly, as though defeated, she told him, "Well, I'm going to make it really good with the time I have then. I think I'll go out and get a few things first."

"I'll go with you. You shouldn't be wandering around town on your own in the middle of the night."

"Do you not think me capable enough to go on my own? I'll be just fine. I'll be back before you even notice I've gone." Abby said this righteously, in an air that suggested she had been offended. She'd finished the bed, and turned to leave. She sought out her boots and found them just as then Greg grabbed her arm and held it firmly without letting her go.

"Oh for Christ's sake Abby, I didn't want to say this, but I have to." He relaxed on her arm a bit when he knew she was listening. She was so hard-headed, when she was on a mission, it was close to impossible to bring her back to earth and tell her something that didn't pertain to her plan.

"Abby," he warned, his dark brown eyes meeting hers. Her eyes were hard to describe because they would change so much. They were a piercing ice blue when she was mad, but a calm teal when she wasn't. Right now Greg wished they had some emotion in them, instead of the sullen grayish blue they were now.

"Don't do anything you'll regret. You obviously don't know this…but you've been silently nominated as the leader de facto of all of us. Everyone looks to you to make decisions, they yearn for your opinions on matters before going forward, they covet your advice and crave your guidance. Everyone needs a leader, Abby, and you're it."

Greg stopped to let these words sink in and was not surprised to realize that Abby hadn't noticed her value to the others. He knew it frightened her, to have so much responsibility and to not even have known it. Her eyes were pools of desperation, because she knew she couldn't do it alone.

Greg spoke again, "We are all connected now, and I guess that means we are all each other's world now. But if we lose you, it's more than losing a simple link in the chain. If we lose you, like a domino effect, we will all fall. With you gone, I don't know what will happen. So watch yourself. Don't take any risks, and make sure you get back here, safe."

Abby listened dutifully without blinking to Greg's speech, but found she couldn't make eye contact with him now. If she'd allowed herself to cry, she would have right there. Leader? Me? Before the virus took everything away from her, Abby had been, well, normal. The typical middle class stay-at-home mom, due to Peter's constant relapses. Never did anything unexpected, anything that wasn't right. Her world had pretty much revolved around Peter, since the day he was born…Twelve years ago today. She wasn't used to having all these people depending on her. Abby worried whether she would truly be able to live up to this responsibility of caring for everyone...

Abby reached out and squeezed Greg's hand, willing herself not to cry. Instead, she smiled again, to his annoyance, and told him, "Thank you. But I really need to be by myself today. I really do. I'm sor - I'm really sorry, but --"

"--Yeah, okay Abby," Greg cut her off impatiently and pulled away, "you just do what you've got to do."

"I'm sorry Greg, you really do have every reason to be angry with me…"

"--Abby, how can you be this naïve? Is it really worth it?" Greg hadn't meant for those words to come out so mean. He suddenly wished he could not only take back the words, but that he hadn't gotten up to get that glass of water in the first place.

Abby swallowed nervously and inhaled a breath sharply, obviously shocked and hurt by Greg's words. She began to nod slowly, as a few awkward beats passed in the silence enveloping the two of them. Greg sighed, and began to apologize, but Abby cut him off.

"Yes, Greg. It is worth it. Because these 'naïve' fantasies I have give me something to live for. If my son is still out there, I will do everything in my power to find him. As long as I have hope, he's alive, and so am I."

Greg nodded grimly, and apologized again before he was again interrupted, this time by a scream coming from upstairs.

Abby closed her eyes and sighed. Naj. Whispering out loud, she mostly explained to herself, "He told me he was okay, that he wasn't having those nightmares anymore. The recurring one, when he is trapped under the bodies of his mum, dad, cousins in Blackburn, family he never knew...and he used to wake up sobbing, about an old man and Al, as well. I don't know what that was about though...Naj needs me now." She turned around and started tiptoeing up the steps towards eleven year-old Najid's room.

He was about the same age as Peter was, and reminded Abby of him in so many ways. Stubborn, yet playful and compassionate. Except Peter had grown up privileged and well off, and Naj grew up working as an adult to help support his family who depended on him. Naj was so brave and very reasonable and responsible, at times, more than some of the adult survivors. Abby realized that while she hadn't exactly used him to replace Peter, she had sort of adopted Naj in her mind as another son, another boy who needed her.

She was at the doorway when she heard murmurs, "Mum...Mum..." and then, "Abby...Abby..."

Abby lightly stepped into Naj's room and sat on his bed. Less than a second passed before he threw his arms around her and didn't even cry or talk. Abby held him tightly too, feeling as if she never wanted to let him go. Naj embraced Abby as if she was the mother he'd lost, and Abby pretended she finally held her own son in her arms.

They fell asleep that way too, undisturbed for the rest of the night.