Title: Failure By Design.
Author: luunasonshine.
Word Count: 4,156.
Summary: This was peace, she knew. Here with Connor, in God knows where. This was happiness. (one-shot, set after series three cliffy.)
Disclaimer: I wish I owned Primeval.

Lyrics from the song 'Failure By Design' by Brand New are found throughout the story. I do not own that song.

---

This is a lesson in procrastination; I kill myself because I'm so frustrated.

Connor Temple's eyes wandered to the snowy tops of the mountains off in the distance, gazing at the creatures a few miles off, looking so small from his resting place in a part of the tree. He shifted to get comfortable, but that only sent a throbbing stab of pain to his ankle. Abby had wrapped it in a strip of material from Connor's shirt, but without proper medical procedures, it was taking much longer than it normally would to heal.

It had been four months and six days since he and Abby and Quinn had arrived here (this was a round number, though. Just his estimation, but the real number had to be pretty close, if not that actual number). It had also been four months and six days since he had seen Quinn. Four months and six days since he had seen humanity, anyone but Abby. Not that Abby was necessarily a bad choice (she actually would have been the first person he'd choose to get stuck in the past with). No, Abby was good. She was Abby, for crying out loud! Still, some other human contact would have been nice.

He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts and just sleep until Abby returned with supper. The probability that she would return, though, was unlikely. She did, though. Every night, with a little water and fruit (odd, mostly inedible fruit. But fruit, nonetheless). Abby was a survivor, and he was…

Useless. With his broken ankle, he was nothing but a liability. Abby could manage much better without him. She wouldn't admit it, she seemed to enjoy his company. But he could feel it, down to his very core. If he wasn't here, she would be much farther, and much safer.

He shook his head again. Negativity wasn't going to help him, or Abby. Running his cold fingers through his dirty brown hair, he took in the fight between two dinosaurs, watching them tear each other apart. They were killing machines, dinosaurs. Built to raise hell, to raise families, and to be one of the ultimate predators. They were so content with their lives, some of them. And some of them took their frustration out on others (he could only guess this was why they were fighting. Either that or they were hungry). They were almost like humans, but more cunning and mysterious. And less talkative. And-

Connor was asleep before that last thought could register.

---

And every single second that I put it off, means another lonely night I gotta race the clock.

Abby Maitland shook her pounding head, wishing that every step she took wouldn't stir any dinosaurs near by. Getting the food was hard enough, and the fact that she was made of meat and entirely too edible to the creatures was not good. She felt her heartbeat match her careful strides as her eyes surveyed the area. No predator danger in sight, and she could already see Connor's arm dangling from the tree in which they made a home. He was probably asleep, because that was all he did lately.

Abby wouldn't admit it, but she pitied him. He was feeling so down lately, on himself, and she couldn't convince him that a broken ankle was not stopping them. They'd still be in the past. None of this was his fault, but in his perspective, it was.

Of course, it was Helen's fault. She'd felt like a broken record, always having to remind him of this. None of this would have happened had it not been for her actions. Cutter would be alive, and most likely, so would Stephen. They'd be at the ARC right now, maybe with Danny, or maybe not. Maybe they'd be going to lock an anomaly. How many more anomalies were there back at the ARC? How was Lester handling them? How were Becker and Sarah managing without them? If Cutter was still alive, would Jenny still be with them? Or would she still have quit?

Abby tried to clear her head as she neared the base of the tree, and slipped the fruits into her pocket. She carefully straddled the base of the tree, trying not to spill the cup of water she held so gingerly (it took quite a bit to make a suitable cup out of twigs that could carry water to Connor, but his dehydration pushed her to get it done, and get it done, she did). Stealthily, quietly, she crept up the tree, grabbing the thicker branches and hauling herself up with one hand (for the other was holding Connor's water). When she finally got to where Connor was, she settled back, and closed her eyes, if for only a moment.

When she opened them, she peered into Connor's slumbering face. He looked peaceful (sleeping was probably the only time he was peaceful. She supposed that's why he slept so much.) His hair had grown quite a bit and fell just above his eyes. His mouth was set in a small smile, and it made her wonder what he was dreaming about. She supposed he was dreaming he was back at the ARC, working on a new project. Or maybe he was caring for Sid and Nancy. Or, maybe, just maybe, he was dreaming of her.

Connor's head turned then lolled forward into a position that looked awfully painful. She nudged his knee with her toe. "Connor," she said softly. "Wake up."

He stirred, but remained asleep, nonetheless. She nudged him harder. "Connor!"

His eyes popped open wide with surprise. They were foggy with sleep and his exclamation was muffled by the sleep in his voice. "What, are we dying?" he mumbled sleepily.

She laughed a little laugh. "No. I got your dinner."

He gave her a sad look. "I'm not hungry."

"You're eating, Connor," she said insistently. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the blood colored berries, at least ten of them, and put them in his lap. "That's just the appetizer. I have more."

He eyed the fruit. "Abby-"

She held up a hand. "I don't wanna hear it." Then she leaned forward and placed a kiss on his lips; a light, fluttering, butterfly kiss. It wasn't the first time they'd kissed since they'd been here, but it wasn't exactly like they kissed all the time. And that's why Connor pulled away in shock.

"Have you recently suffered a head injury?" he half-joked. His expression was one of surprise, and drowsiness. She smiled at him.

Abby knew Connor loved her, and she knew she loved Connor. But they hadn't done anything about it, and he'd been down for such a long time, that he needed a boost.

"No. So shut up." She picked a berry off his laps and placed it in between her lips. Then she kissed him again, more passionately. His tongue quickly darted out to gobble up the fruit.

"Mmm," he said when she pulled away, chewing on the food. "I like this game."

"It's not a game, you twat!" She slapped him lightly on the chest. "Just eat your fricken' dinner!" She held the water out to him, and he eagerly gulped it down. She watched as he devoured the berries, and she smiled.

This was peace, she knew. This was serenity and joy. The feeling in the pit of her stomach, was happiness. They may have been south of nowhere, and God knows how many years they were back in past, but she was happy. Here with Connor, and the setting sun, she knew there were several places she'd rather be, but she was happy with being here too.

---

Let's say we go and crash your car?

After Connor ate the main course (which was a weird fruit that tasted like a sour banana, which is as inedible as it sounds. But he wasn't complaining), he settled back with a half full stomach, and stared at Abby.

Her white-blonde hair was as long as it was when he first met her. She stared back, completely unfazed by his ogling. He wanted to kiss her, again and again and again. Kiss those pale lips. But staring into her deep blue eyes was a consolation prize for the not kissing, because that's what they were doing.

He could feel the drowsiness seeping deep into his bones, fogging his mind. He always felt drowsy lately. Not just drowsy, but sore. Like, straight down to the bone sore. His body ached, and he felt it was from lack of movement. His eyes began to flutter, and Abby peered at him anxiously. "You're tired?"

He shrugged, leaning his head back and looking at the gray sky now. He knew rain was coming, but he couldn't tell how much. Not that he cared. He just wanted to sleep. "A little."

"Are you cold?"

Now that she mentioned it, he was cold. He was adept to being cold that he couldn't feel the numbing chill, unless he thought about it. But now he felt it. But he also felt the flaming heat in his face. And his stuffed up nose. "Abby, I think I'm-"

"Sick?" she cut him off. She reached out to touch an icy hand to his cheek. He shied away from the cold touch. "You're burning up," she gasped.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. "You didn't happen to have any NyQuil on you before we went on this crazy adventure, did you?"

She shot him a crazy look. "Sorry, but I forgot to pack it." She was being sarcastic, naturally.

"Pity."

He swallowed, trying to determine whether or not he had a sore throat, but his throat was fine. He just had a fever and the beginnings of a headache. Nothing he couldn't handle. After all, his ankle was broken. A headache was nothing.

But he closed his eyes and groaned anyway. Abby frowned. "Connor, is there anything I can do?"

"Nah, I'll find a way to manage. I've dealt with worse," he gestured to his ankle.

She rubbed her hand up and down his jeaned calf. "Try and get some sleep, yeah?"

He peered at her through half lidded eyes. She was so beautiful. He wanted to cradle her. To hold her, touch her, love her. And return home with her. All these things seemed so far out of reach, yet within reach at the same time. His head was whirling. He really needed sleep.

"Yeah," he croaked tiredly. "G'night Abs."

"G'night Conn."

"I love you," he tried to say, but his tongue was too heavy, and sleep had taken him.

---

And every time I leave, you go and lock the door.

Abby settled back and tried to enjoy the view: the snowy mountains, the at-ease creatures getting ready to settle down. She didn't know what time it was, for time meant nothing anymore. All she knew was the way she felt about life. About fate and karma. Was she destined to be here with Connor? What if Connor had stayed and Becker had gone in his place? How would things be different?

Better yet, what if Helen hadn't led them here at all? What would be different? What would be the same?

She tried not to think too much into it. Tried to clear her head of all thoughts and just continue rubbing her hand up and down Connor's leg. She knew he was out like a light, but she just liked touching him, like he was a sign she was still connected to the world she once knew. Would they grow old and die here? She sure hoped not, and she would make sure that didn't happen. She knew they would get home, she could feel it. A niggling feeling that the adventure wouldn't end here. In fact, it was only beginning here. One way or another, they would make it home.

But, until that day came, she could just stare off into the distance. She was mostly looking at the starry sky. Without any city lights around, all the stars showed and, my gosh, there were so many. At least a million stretched across the sky, black as ever but with a few gray clouds. Thin enough that if it did rain over them, it would be a light drizzle. They were thin enough that she could see the stars right through them. Stars like silver glitter on a black piece of paper. Some were scattered at random intervals, and some were bunched together in herds. Abby stared into the moon, full and bright like a bulb in the sky. It cast an eerie, almost daylight glow, over them. The creatures were all fast asleep, and so was Connor. Abby could estimate it was late, well after midnight, but she wasn't exhausted. Not even in the slightest. No, she was thrumming with an energy like she just swallowed a handful of coffee beans.

She looked down at the ground below her. The sticks and twigs, and the plants intertwined. She could only wonder if this was the Forest of Dean, millions of years ago. She supposed all forests looked the same, and therefore, she couldn't really tell. She kept rubbing her hand up and down Connor's leg, and she got to his ankle, still swollen, though wrapped in cloth. She let her fingers skim a light patch of bruised skin peaking out of the cloth, and Connor winced in his sleep. It was a nightmare to wrap the thing up (even the lightest touches earned a cry from him), but he was tough and braved it out. She admired how he was trying to be tough, rather than complain every five seconds. Connor was like a little lost puppy trying to survive in a dog-eat-dog world. She supposed they both were lost puppies here. But they were here together, and there was no one else she'd rather be here with.

Her eyes scanned the entire land she could see, some creatures were close by, but fast asleep. In the distance, she could see a little spark, before something bright and shiny opened up. Bright and shiny and looking all too much like an anomaly. She gasped, then smiled wide smile. "Connor," she squealed. "Connor, wake up! Quick!"

"Hmph," he mumbled. His eyes didn't open.

"Connor!" She shook him roughly. "No, Connor, there's an anomaly!"

That got his attention.

---

So I walk myself picking at a chip on my shoulder.

Connor's bright brown eyes opened wide with surprise. "An-an-anomaly?" he spluttered, trying to chase the drowsiness from his brain. If there was an anomaly, then, there was a ticket home. Home. He felt a great rush of joy fill his entire body, from his head to his toes, at the thought of that word. Home. They could get home, or possibly near enough to it.

He shook his head and blinked, looking around the forest wildly. His eyes flew to it like quicksilver, and he grinned widely. An anomaly! After months of waiting, oh sweet joy, an anomaly had opened up. He wanted to whoop and cheer, but he also wanted to get to it ASAP. The possibility it could close at any second gave him a nerve-wracking fear. "We need to get to it, now," he said, nodding at Abby. She gave him a woebegone look. "No. We need to get to it! Don't hesitate. You go first," he indicated toward the base of the tree.

She hesitated again. "Abby," he whined. "No time for you to collect your thoughts. Just…climb down the tree. I'll follow."

She started down the tree, climbing down skillfully. She was halfway down when she stopped suddenly, and looked up at him with tired eyes. "Connor, your ankle." She frowned slightly as she shimmied down the tree. "How are you going to make it down with your ankle?"

Connor simply grinned at her, keeping one eye on the shimmering anomaly. "I'm a survivor," he said simply, with a light shrug of his shoulders.

This made her smile as she finally descended onto the ground. "You sure are."

He watched from above, as she fixed her hair and straightened her shirt, before leaning forward slightly to catch a branch and swing himself around, all the whilst trying to ignore the protests of pain in his ankle. He placed his good foot onto a thick branch and leaned all his weight onto it, using the other foot to descend onto a lower branch. Just like rock climbing, he thought, trying to ignore the screams of protest in his ankle. He used the rock climbing mechanism to get to the ground moments later, sucking air in sharply to bottle up the agony in his leg.

He swung himself around to look past Abby at the anomaly, at least two miles away from where they were standing. It looked so far away and this almost made him sad. Almost. "Run or tiptoe?" he whispered to Abby, who was staring into his face with a peculiar expression. "Ab-"

She threw herself at him, placing a hungry kiss on his mouth. He stumbled a little, but the pain in his ankle was worth this, and his arms wrapped around her. He held her tightly against him, feeling so at ease, if only for those few bittersweet seconds. When she pulled away, his head was spinning with ecstasy.

Through labored breathing, he asked, "What was that for?"

She pulled away, blushing, he could see, even in the dark. Straightening out her t-shirt, she said, "In case we don't make it."

He shook his head, refusing to believe that. "No. We'll make it."

"How confident are you?" She shot back, eyes narrowed.

He considered this for a moment. "Run," he decided.

They ran.

His stomach clenched with nausea. He didn't know how far he'd make it before his leg gave out, or his ankle snapped off. The pain twisted his stomach, but it only pushed him farther. His leg could get proper medical attention on the other side of the anomaly, and so he picked up the pace. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, pushed his feet forward. Abby matched his pace. The anomaly was getting closer. A mile and a half. He knew any creature within a few hundred feet could hear their feet slapping sticks and dead leaves on the ground. They were probably stirring, and trying to pinpoint the source of the commotion. He ran faster. Abby pushed forward. A mile away. And faster.

Abby came to a sudden halt, and Connor almost crashed into her, but he stopped himself. He could feel heat burning his face (this could have been due to his fever), and sweat sticking his clothes to his skin. A terrible stitch in his side made him want to gasp for air, but Abby must have read his thoughts, because she whispered, "Shh. Don't move."

He knew why. He could feel it. The terrible, blood-smelling breath dancing across the back of his neck. He could feel the dinosaurs presence. His body was fighting the adrenaline, drowsiness taking him over. The pain in his ankle made him want to collapse into the pile of leaves at his feet. He wanted to sleep for days.

But he also wanted to be home.

"Abby," he whispered, standing stock still and rigid. "Go."

"But-"

"Go!" he said more persistently. And so she went. He noticed the way she ran, so gracefully, like a gazelle, and it made him smile. I'm going to live, he thought. I know I am.

Turning slowly, almost as if dancing with the dinosaur, he turned to be face to face with the raptor. It was half a foot away and three feet taller than he was. He looked up at it, a cool smirk on his lips. "Hello there," he said, and bent quickly to grab a large, thick branch off the ground.

The raptor roared and bared its teeth ready for the kill.

Only one of us will live, thought Connor. And I'm not dying now.

---

I'm another day late and one year older.

Abby's ribcage was taking a major beating from her heart. Fear dowsed her body, running from her head to her toes. Her feet carried her, but she didn't feel as if she was running. Her eyes darted back and forth and up and down. No dinosaurs were in sight, but they were sneaky little bastards. She didn't know if Connor would make it, and her heart panged at the thought.

No, he was Connor. He had to make it. How could he not? The boy was tougher than he let on. And she loved him. She couldn't lose him. Not now.

She was getting close to the anomaly now. She didn't want to go on without him. She wanted to go back and fight with him. He couldn't take on a raptor by himself. He needed her. She almost did turn around, too. But then she heard footfalls.

No, no, no! The raptor got Connor. The raptor got him-

"Why aren't you running?" Connor hissed. She didn't even notice she'd frozen in her tracks. She didn't notice anything but him. He was all she could see.

"You're covered in blood," she said, touching his cheek. He grinned.

"It's the raptor's."

She smiled. She wanted to kiss him so badly, the desire burning in her blood. He grabbed her hand and began to drag her. "Let's run, yeah? Save the mushy stuff for later."

As they ran, she asked, "How's your leg?"

"Hurts," he said simply, breathing labored. They were so close to the anomaly, so close to home (possibly, if that's where the anomaly led). But she knew the anomaly led to home. Her heart told her so. Her body, mind, and soul told her so. They were near, so near, and Connor's hand grasped hers tightly, and he clamped his eyes shut, and they fell through together.

They hit the ground, with nothing but a muffled, "Oomph," coming from Connor's mouth. She picked herself up, releasing his hand, and brushed dirt off herself. This was a place she knew.

"Where are we?" he asked from the ground. He had not opened his eyes yet.

"The Forest of Dean," then she smiled. Because what else would be better than to spot a road not too far off, "and there's a road! Connor! There's a-"

Her smile only widened as the ARC's truck pulled up, Becker and Sarah emerging along with a few other people she did not recognize. They were probably coming to lock the anomaly behind her. No, that was why they were here.

"There's a road, and…" Connor prompted. He opened his eyes a tad, then gasped, and jerked upright, at the spotting of their colleagues.

"We're home," Abby breathed.

It's failure by design.