A/N This is a One-Shot inspired by MCR's music video, Sing. Please don't let lack-of-knowing (or liking) the band put you off reading. I must apologise for the grammar to those who read this before I properly edited it. I may or may not have originally written this in the middle of the night.
This is a standalone fic. I don't own Primeval. I'm not sure who does.
Blood was pounding in his ears as guns went off all around him, both standard and those ingenious electric pulse weapons that Matt had designed. If only everything about Philip's connections to Helen had come out before now... He would never have helped Philip.
Something slammed into Connors chest and he was pinned to the wall. His assaulters arm was holding him tight and he couldn't do anything. He'd lost his gun when narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets and his attackers arms were successfully keeping his upper arms trapped against the wall. He could see Abby, back to back with Becker, shooting as rapidly as she could. She hadn't seen Connor.
Ethan's face was inches away from Connors as he placed delicately the tip of one of Matt's guns under his chin. The cold metal felt isolated as his heart raced, heating his skin, causing a slight trace of perspiration to lace his brow. The chill spread through him as he realised that unless a miracle happened, he was screwed.
But then the whole concept of anomalies was a miracle, so he had a chance, right?
Matt was occupied, teamed with Emily, who'd returned through the anomalies when she found evidence of the multiplying anomalies in her time, to warn us. Ethan had come soon after. And been picked up by Philip, who'd managed to get him to join his side... Where Connor had been. Until he'd realised just how much damage Philip intended to cause.
He'd managed to escape then. Just. With a couple of scratches and a desperate warning for his fellow ARC-ers. That's when it all went to pot. And here they were, shooting at each other, in the ARC. People were dead all around them.
This internal monologue in reality only lasted a few bare seconds. It felt like an eternity, staring into Ethan's demented eyes, and finding a cold, calculating seed in their depths. Connor was painfully aware that, even at its lowest setting, if that weapon went off, the shock would go straight to his brain, mess with his nerve signals, spasms... death. He could but hope it'd be quick.
He saw, running out from a door, on the other side of the room, Danny. He saw Ethan. He saw Connor. He raised his weapon.
Ethan pulled the trigger.
Connors head flew backwards and his back arched. His head struck the wall as Ethan stepped away from him grinning sordidly, admiring his handy work as Connor slid to the floor. His head fell forward and his eyes stared at nothing, his face displaying no more than slight surprise.
Ethan turned in time to see Danny pull the trigger of his newly acquired gun. Ethan crumpled next to Connor as Abby turned.
She screamed.
A/N Please review.