Title: The Walls of Abigail
Author: Roguie/ Danae Bowen/ Sunspecops
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Connor/Abby, w/Matt, Becker
Rating: T-ish
Spoilers: 5x01 - outright, hide nothing, spoilers. Complete rapage of the episode, so if you don't want to know, I suggest you don't read.
Summary: She'd never imagined that the most agonizing sensation she'd ever experience would be fear itself. Why the Abby we love has finally sprung back to life during 5x01.
Disclaimer: I so obviously don't own Primeval; I just like to borrow the characters and mutate their inner voices. Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.
A/N: Written moments prior to watching 5x03, so any bitterness that may have seeped through is purely from editing. And no, I didn't separate present from past scenes, I know it seems confusing at first, but during a second read it really flowed better without distinction.
~~~~The Walls of Abigail
She'd never imagined that the most agonizing sensation she'd ever experience would be fear itself. As a child she lived in fear: fear of the next fist to land, fear of the next creaking floor board in the night, fear of her mother leaving each time she threatened as much, fear of being alone. Fear was just fear, paralyzing, blinding, all encompassing, but it was just fear. Each new terror had it's highs and lows, each new sensation was nauseating, forcing her mind to shut down, her consciousness to flee to somewhere calm. None of it, however, cut into her the way this wretched nightmare was doing now.
She felt Matt's arms around her, holding her in place, preventing her from following as the beast dragged Connor away. She felt the adrenaline begin to burn in her veins, drowned in the rage that burst from her in a primal scream, to be left only with the sensation of raw terror as everything went suddenly quiet and she had the eeriest, most heart chilling moment that provided clarity in the knowledge that she was alone.
They'd never explained their time away, not to Becker, not to Jess, certainly not to Lester or Burton. Oh, they'd given the expected stories of raptors and lizards and primates, more than anyone could ever have imagined. They spoke of living off the land, learning to hunt, to fish, to gather rain to drink. They spoke of everything impersonal and no one ever asked for more. They never spoke of the first days, when they had nothing to eat or drink, when Connor couldn't walk and Danny never reappeared. They never mentioned the terrifying night when they awoke to chunks of rotten flesh raining down upon them, vile, putrid breath puffing over them as an extremely large carnivore forced them from their perch. They'd held hands as they'd run that night, Abby pulling the wounded Connor along, through bramble and bush, until they tumbled into a bramble nest, trapped by the thick thorns that threatened to rip open their soft flesh just as surely as the creature outside.
They'd curled into each other, his heavy body atop her, pressing her into the hard ground as he struggled to ensure she was protected by the small shelter he could offer her. His soft brown eyes captured her blue, fear forcing him to tremble even as his fingers drove heavily into the soft flesh of her arms. What should have been the last moments of their lives ticked by slowly, the creature howling and thrashing in rage as it found its simple meal protected by impenetrable thorns, while Abby's breath caught in her chest, willing Connor's head to dip forward, willing him to cover her lips with his own, willing him to lay claim to her as surely as they would claim this briar patch as their new home. When the distance closed between them, her heart stalled suddenly, a tiny sound escaping her throat before his lips closed over hers in a soft, gentle brush of flesh on flesh that became electric, lighting the adrenaline in her veins like liquid fire. Her body instantly flushed, her blue eyes made brighter by her reddened skin as her lips parted and she immediately welcomed his touch.
No one could even begin to understand her need to find him, her need to break loose of Matt's arms and throw herself down the tunnel formed by the giant insect. No one could ever come close to imagining the agony in her chest as her heart exploded, shattering into a thousand tiny shards of glass that split open her veins and left her bleeding out the very breath that gave her life. No orders, no commands, no pleas would be enough to stop her from following him because nothing could ever come between her and Connor. Not for long.
Even as she began to calm, her body shaking, tears threatening, but calm enough to listen, she realized they were gathering to find him, tracing his black box, they were going to help her bring him home. She had to give them the chance even if they could never fully understand Connor's importance to her. It wasn't their fault, not really, they'd never filled them in.
They'd never explained the week they'd spent separated.
She supposed it had been their own fault to start; Connor was in the river, bathing, after a particularly messy encounter with a berry bush. She was supposed to be keeping guard, but he distracted her with a wide expanse of tanned flesh and that wicked lopsided smile that melted every atom in her body.
A look about confirmed that they were alone, at least as far as she could see. With that knowledge in hand, she stripped down to her knickers and plunged into the icy cold water, swimming over to her mischievous mate to lose herself in the circle of his arms.
She's still not certain how it happened, they always had one eye on their surroundings, no matter what activities they were involved in. Still, one moment they were frolicking in the water like teenagers, the next moment she felt something slip past her legs, watched as Connor's face went white and the water turned red, and quite suddenly he was no longer in her arms.
Fear had gripped her then, but with no one to hold her back, she chased after Connor and the beast, following the dark trail of Connor's blood left scenting the forest around her. Tree branches pulled at her naked flesh, thorns grabbing at her, using skin and hair to slow her down but she never took her eyes off the trail. The sounds of snuffling and hissing filled the path before her, shadows leaping from behind each tree, the stink of rot and decay flowing towards her on the wind. She wasn't the only one following the trail of fresh blood. A small family of raptors moved through the forest with her, snapping at each other, frenzied by the smell of fresh, wounded meat filling the area. They circled a small cavern, almost hidden beneath the roots of a large tree, even as the sound of snarling came from within. The creature that had grabbed Connor darted out from between the roots, snapping at the nearest invading raptor. While it was distracted, Abby crept closer, relieved to find Connor crawling towards her, his arm and shoulder red and weeping, but alive, conscious and ready to run.
They'd spared no time for concern, running through the rocky terrain as fast as possible, heading back to the shelter they'd worked on so diligently in the weeks past. It wasn't until they were just about on their clearing, the crashing sounds of predators in chase close by, that Connor stopped suddenly.
"Run," he'd whispered, pushing her towards the clearing. "Abby, run! The smell of it, it's too fresh, they'll keep after me."
"Con…"
"RUN! I'll come home when it's safe!"
He shoved her towards their shelter, turning on his heel to run to the east, gratified as the creatures changed direction to follow the scent of the blood.
That was the last she'd seen of him for days. The first night she told herself that he had to tend to his wounds, that he was likely up a tree somewhere waiting for the raptors and friends to grow bored and move off after some more easily gotten meal, that he'd come home in the morning. She woke, made a tasty root and berry breakfast, rescued her clothing from the river and waited, but as the sun moved across the sky, it didn't bring Connor with it.
The second night was when the trembling started; at first she told herself it was because she was so cold, the sun going down earlier each night, burning less hot during the day, but the shivers had started with her hands and spread throughout. They only eased off when she curled into Connor's spot on the floor, snuggling down under the blanket that still held the distinct odour that was only Connor Temple. When his scent worked deep into her mind, enveloped her in an embrace he was too far away to give himself, that's when the shivers eased and she trembled quietly into a restless sleep.
The third night the tears came, huge wracking sobs that shook her down to her very bones as she cried out her loss and agony at being alone. Her entire life she lived in terror of being left behind, by her long dead father, her mum whom she loved regardless of the life they'd lived, but never could she have imagined being left behind by all of humanity. When she cried, there was no Jack to hide it from, no Connor to twist his hands in discomfort, no hugs and no whispers that it'd all be right by morning. There would be no more inane conversations about ex lovers, food cravings, or comic book hero battles. She'd not come home from gathering roots to find the fire already blazing and a chunk of meat, be it reptilian, mammalian or aquatic, roasting tastily above the flame. She'd have to do it all herself now if she wanted to survive, and contrary to Abby's nature, she started to wonder if, without Connor, it would actually be worth it.
The fourth night she forgot to gather food for her rumbling stomach, choosing instead to curl up under the silver blanket and ignoring the hunger pangs in favour of sleep.
The fifth night she ate, but hadn't the heart to start a fire and instead nibbled on raw roots gathered from within feet of the camp. Only two hours had passed before her stomach rejected the meagre offerings and she found herself heaving harshly, dispelling much needed nutrients violently, only to turn away when it was over, clutch at the pangs of agony in her beaten stomach and closed her eyes, even though sleep failed to come.
The sixth night she was flushed red with fever, shivering under the silver blanket that she clutched to her chest like a lifeline. She heard the sounds of movement outside her shelter, but hadn't the energy to even raise her head to ensure her bramble home was properly hidden from predatory view. When the sounds faded a half hour later, she whimpered softly as she shivered, closing her eyes with relief. She was in no shape to fight off a raptor looking for a meal or a place to nest.
The seventh night the sounds returned. Feverishly she edged towards the back of her shelter, pulling her knees up to her chin, covering all but her face with the silver blanket. When the sounds grew closer to her shelter, the shivers started over. When the entrance to the den shifted and the moonlight was cut off by shadow, tears filled her eyes. When his scent hit her, thick and musky, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped in surprise. She ran a hand across her heated forehead as she blinked, putting the black shapes together in the dim light before a lighter struck and his warm brown eyes flickered from behind his torch.
"Hey," he whispered.
She struggled, wanting to find the proper words, wanting to express her joy, her anger, her confusion. "Hi," was all that escaped.
"Miss me?" He moved beside her, pulling her into his arms, concern chasing away his lopsided grin as he felt the heat radiating off her flushed flesh.
Rather than answer, she twisted to the side and weakly threw up a tiny amount of water. When her body relaxed, she couldn't fight it anymore; she turned in his arms, pressed her cheek to his chest, and fell soundly asleep.
Abby knew what it was like to lose Connor. She knew what fresh agony each day without him could bring. She knew that if he were dead, the love that filled her heart would be replaced with agony, the life their love brought her would be replaced with decay. She knew the bleak future that'd exist should Connor be dead, so when Matt threw back at her that if he was dead there's nothing they could do for him, she had to keep herself from killing him. Somewhere in the back of her frantic mind came the warning that shooting one's commanding officer was frowned upon in most circles, and that was enough to keep her weapon holstered. It didn't change things, though, she knew if Connor were dead, this time there'd be nothing to keep her sane.
"Abby."
When her comm crackled, his weak voice carrying her name violently re-infusing her with hope, she had to will her knees to keep her on her feet. The relief that washed over her was enough to bring bile to her lips, a hit to the stomach that threatened to double her over even as she called out his name out in response. He was alive, he was alive and together they'd get him out of whatever mess he found himself in. One more time he was going to get out of this unscathed and when they got home, after she'd tended to his bruised and battered body, she'd add another bruise or two for good measure. She could hear the pain in his voice as he struggled to walk, biting down on her lip as she silently offered him her strength, her support. Biting down harder when he notices the dozens of insects waiting for him.
Again she was held back, Matt separating her from Connor, Becker standing in support. When it all finally overwhelmed her, when it came down to saving Connor or destroying London, the destruction of her home started sounding like a fair trade. Dozens of lives that added together couldn't equal one Connor Temple.
While she'd heard the old cliché that when your life was in danger, all your years flashed before your eyes, she never expected to be left holding tight to memories as Connor choked out his lasts breaths, not a half a block from where she stood. How, after everything, it could come down to this, a quiet whisper that may have been love, a private declaration muted by the knowledge that everyone was listening. A goodbye that should have been a closure, a start to healing the agony that had only just begun, that instead became cut off and lacking.
They'd kept so much secret from the rest of the team, so much private between them, that not even at the end could they put their feelings into words.
The explosion rocked the street, and Becker's arms were wrapped around her. They'd come full circle in an eternity that encompassed less than an hour. How did it happen that she'd been held by every man on her team today, except the one that mattered?
They moved towards the decimated building, calling out for their missing team, calling out for her missing mate, and all the while her nails bit into the palms of her hand. Something black was riding on the wind towards them, coming for them. She could feel it now even as she breathed in the last remnants of natural gas, choked on the dust and ash that filled the air.
She threw herself into Connor's arms, let his warm embrace smooth away the trembling that suddenly took over, but still, that morbid thought of imminent loss hung in the air with the smoke surrounding them. She buried her face into his shoulder, dug her fingers into his neck, pulled back and pressed her lips tightly to his, uncaring, for once, that Becker and Matt looked on.
It was louder now, louder even as she tried losing herself in the gentle brush of Connor's mouth over hers, his hands on his back, his promise that he'd make this up to her the moment they were alone. A clock ticking in her mind, pounding away each second, forcing her hands into fists as she struggled against the pressure pulling her down. She focussed on his wound, laughed with Becker's joke, stroked his hair softly and rode back to the ARC held securely in his arms, but still, the sound carried with her. And with it came the knowledge that time was running out. She shivered and Connor pulled her close, but not even the comfort of him could ease away the sudden understanding that when all this came to an end, one of them would be alone.
Tears filled her eyes, tears that were hidden by his shoulder as she buried her face against him and struggled against the nausea that threatened to close her throat. Her head spun, her body shook, light faded in and out in a heavy strobe.
"I wish we'd never come back," she mumbled against his shirt collar, pulling his dark eyes down, watching as they widened at the stricken, terrified look in her own.
"What?" he smiled at her gently, his hand moving into her hair, stroking her, offering a shocking amount of comfort in an innocent touch.
"It's all changing," she shook her head as he shrugged softly, touching his forehead to hers.
"Yeah, but it's better, innit? Saving the world, you 'n me, s'what we always talked about." He looked up from her and out the window wistfully. "It's what Cutter would've wanted, don't you think?"
"Cutter'd want us to be happy." She said simply.
"Aren't you, though? Happy?" His eyes were wide and concerned, the puppy dog look that could bring her to her knees once again washing away the bitter retort that threatened to spill past her lips, all at once leaving her with only sadness.
"Sure, Conn. Happy as I'll ever be, I s'pose."
He nodded, resting his chin on her head as she settled back down against his chest. His eyes flicked out the window to the clouds forming heavily over the city and he sighed. "Looks like we're in for a storm tonight." He grinned. "Want to take advantage, order in and spend a ridiculous amount of time in bed?"
Despite herself she chuckled. "Provided you shower first, sounds like a plan."
He wagged his eyebrows at her, flashing her that wicked lopsided grin that she thought perhaps she'd been the only one to have ever seen. "Gonna come scrub me back?"
She laughed out loud, finally able to drown out the incessant countdown that had started in her mind. "I suppose that depends on how fast you can get your stuff and meet me at the car."
He hugged her close and was out the door as Matt was pulling to a stop, half way up the front path to the ARC before the truck was even in park.
Matt sniffed as he watched him rush off. "What's gotten into him, then? He's moving like the mouth of hell was opening at his feet."
Like a sudden rush of air the sound was back, and the smile dropped from Abby's lips. Matt looked at her oddly as her eyes clouded over and her skin grew pale. The walls she'd spent years creating, years solidifying, years ensuring no one could get in came crashing to her feet in piles of imaginary mortar and cement dust. Something was coming, and she had nothing left to protect herself from the pain that was it was surely bringing with it. "It's time we talked."
~~~Fin.
