Father's Day

a Primeval fan-fic by phoebenpiper

...

"We're planning to make a weekend of it."

The ARC team were sat in the canteen, having a much deserved late dinner after chasing down Beelzebufo all morning and most of the afternoon. Emily was grateful to simply be sitting after the long, hectic week they'd just spent and therefore wasn't paying much attention to the mealtime conversation.

"Gwen and I are riding down together tonight," Becker went on, "and Fiona and Ian are planning to meet us there." The soldier gave a frustrated sigh as he grumbled, "It was meant to be a surprise, but leave it to Ian to go and tell all to Dad last Monday."

"Still, it sounds like fun," Jess reassured. Turning to Matt and Emily, she eagerly inquired, "So what about you two? What are you planning to-oh!" She pulled herself up short as if suddenly remembering. "I'm so sorry!" she quickly apologised, her face red with embarrassment as she looked back and forth between her two friends. "I wasn't even...I mean...I should've realised-"

Taking pity on her friend - and wanting to avoid prolonging the awkwardness - Emily quickly asked, "So explain to me, what exactly is this Father's Day?"

Jess stopped her nervous stammering to stare at her friend. "You didn't have Father's Day?" she asked, her blue eyes wide with surprise. Emily shook her head, and Jess eagerly went on. "Well, it's a lovely holiday, actually. As you can imagine, it celebrates fathers...and grandfathers and what have you. Traditionally there are gifts and breakfast in bed - you MUST serve your dad breakfast in bed - and oftentimes..."

Jess continued with her animated explanation, but Emily wasn't really listening. It wasn't only that her relationship with her own father had been strained at best; instead, she was too busy studying Matt's face. It wasn't expressing much - it never did - but Emily saw something there, something that the others obviously didn't.

And she couldn't wait to get him alone to ask him about it.

...

"Matt!"

The team leader stopped and waited as Emily hurried up the corridor towards him. "Hey," he greeted as she approached. He realised the afternoon was getting on and imagined she wanted to know when he would be ready to go. One of the downsides of carpooling was it seemed she was always having to wait for him, and whilst she didn't seem to mind terribly, he was now quick to reassure, "I'm nearly done with my incident report, and after we can-"

"Why did you not tell them?" Emily asked bluntly.

Matt stared at her, not sure what she was talking about. "Why did I not tell who what?" he asked, wondering if this was somehow related to the giant prehistoric frogs they'd sent back through the anomaly earlier.

But apparently it wasn't, for Emily clarified, "Why did you not tell the others that your father died?"

Matt gave a cough of surprise, feeling completely blind-sided - he certainly hadn't been expecting that! He opened his mouth to respond, but she went on.

"You never even told them he was here, did you?" she asked, an almost accusatory tone in her voice. "Even after you let on who you really were, you kept that part a secret. Why?"

Matt frowned. He had grown used to Emily questioning his orders - and even his taste in home decorating - but she didn't usually attack his personal choices. He felt his defences instantly go up, such that his voice sounded almost emotionless as he stated dismissively, "He was gone - I saw no need to tell the others."

"But Matt, he obviously meant so much-" Emily began before Matt cut her off.

"That part of my life is over, yeah?" he said, even though they both knew that wasn't completely true. "He's gone. Just...forget about it."

And he turned and walked away, wishing he could follow his own advice.

...

"Emily!"

Jess hopped out of her seat at the hub and scurried across Ops towards her friend.

"Look, I am SO sorry," she went on. "I never should've said- it was so stupid of me, but I just- I mean, you and Matt have both settled in so well here, I sometimes forget that you're not from this time, that you actually left behind everything - and everyONE - you ever knew, your family and friends...and this isn't really helping, is it? I can't believe I'm putting my foot in it again! You'd think I'd learn not to—"

"Jess!" Emily was finally able to interrupt the younger girl's ramblings. "Do not fret. I was not bothered by what you said. Truly."

"Are you sure?" Jess asked, clearly still pained by what she'd done. "Because I know I have an awful habit of-"

"Truly," Emily insisted. "Please, do not alarm yourself."

Jess nodded. "Well, I really am sorry. I know it must be hard for you both, being so far from your families, especially at times like this."

Emily nodded, not certain what to say. In truth, she had never been close to her family - especially not to her father - but she saw no point in saying so, as she didn't imagine her friend would understand. Jess seemed to get on with everyone, thanks to her friendly, outgoing personality, but that wasn't Emily. She had been raised in a different time, had been taught to be reserved, to hold herself apart from others. It was no doubt because of her upbringing that she still found it so difficult to let down her guard, to allow herself to be close with anyone.

Except Matt. He was different. Although they weren't physically close, she felt she could share things with him, things she couldn't share with the others, secrets...

"Could you do me a favour?" Emily burst out as an idea suddenly struck her.

"Of course!" Jess replied, clearly eager to make amends for her social faux pas. "Anything!"

"Are...are death records something you can research on your computer?"

Jess grinned smugly. "I can research ANYTHING on my computer." She grabbed Emily's hand and started to lead her back towards the hub as she asked, "So, what do you want to know?"

...

Matt was pleased that Emily had not brought up the topic of his father again. He had been certain she would - she could be extremely single-minded sometimes - but she had thankfully avoided the subject. They'd spent a relaxing Friday evening at the pub with their friends and a quiet Saturday alone together, tending to their rooftop garden and taking a long walk in the park, with nary a mention of his father.

Unfortunately, the subject had taken up silent residence in Matt's mind and didn't seem inclined to leave anytime soon.

The problem was that he simply didn't know how to feel about his father. On the one hand, he was angry - furious, more like. He had almost lost Emily due to his father, and he was finding that difficult to forgive. His dad had taught him, practically since birth, that his own feelings didn't count, that all that mattered was going on this mission, saving the world. And whilst Matt had mostly agreed, the two had begun to see things differently near the end. Gideon had become so obsessed with the big picture that he could no longer see the small, the personal. Why else would he have insisted that Emily - a living, breathing person, not to mention someone Matt had started to care for - be sacrificed simply to stop Ethan?

Yet despite disagreeing with him, Matt's final words to his father had been to promise as much. It was a promise he still regretted making - regretted having even considered the possibility of allowing Emily to be hurt...and yet also regretted not having kept the promise, even though it hadn't been necessary in the end.

It was this latter sense of regret that had ultimately led Matt to go ahead and sacrifice Emily after all, to send her back to a life of misery in her own time to prevent her from becoming a distraction, his father's final words echoing in his ears as he'd watched her disappear into that anomaly.

And whilst everything had eventually turned out, with Emily now safely back in this time, Matt felt that much pain could have been spared if his father hadn't interfered, hadn't forced Matt to bury his feelings for so long.

Of course, if anger were all that Matt felt for his father, things would have been easier. Matt could've walked away from his father's memory and never looked back. But it wasn't as simple as that. In addition to anger, Matt felt a profound sense of loss at Gideon's passing. His father had been the only one here from his own time, the only one who knew Matt's real identity...the only one who truly understood how Matt felt, being so far from everything he had ever known.

But no, that wasn't entirely accurate. Emily also understood. True, she'd come here from a completely different time, a completely different world, yet she, too, was all alone here. Perhaps that was why Matt had been so inclined to help her when she had first come through to this time. Why he'd been so willing to let his guard down, to start to care for her, despite all his training. Why he had found her such a distraction...and why his father had felt she must be sacrificed.

Which led him right back to the anger again.

His mind had been circling through these familiar paths for the past two nights and was still doing so as dawn broke Sunday morning. Matt finally pulled himself off the sofa and stumbled to the kitchen to make some coffee, hoping the caffeine might dislodge these endless thoughts. Instead, the coffee only magnified the problem, giving him more energy to obsess upon the issue. He was therefore circling back towards anger once more when Emily suddenly appeared, jarring him back to the present.

"'Morning," he greeted simply, taking in the fact that, whilst he was still clad in only the boxers he'd slept in, she was already fully dressed for the day, despite the early hour. He was also taking in the way the golden rays of early dawn lit up her long brown curls, making her look even more beautiful than usual...and making him reluctantly acknowledge that perhaps it had been more than simple shared loneliness that had attracted him to her.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he asked, "Tea?" as he automatically flicked on the kettle.

Emily, however, walked up to the counter and determinedly placed a slip of paper down upon it. "I would like for you to take me here this morning."

Matt frowned, glancing down at the address written in Jess's swirly handwriting. "It's not a restaurant, I hope," he said, not sure where else the field coordinator might be sending them. "Didn't Jess say to avoid going out today, what with the holiday and all?"

Emily shook her head. "It is not food I want," she stated matter-of-factly.

Matt was about to inquire what exactly she did want, but as she had not volunteered this information, he decided not to ask. "Alright," he replied instead, flicking the kettle back off as he added, "Shall we then?"

He was about to dump the remainder of his coffee down the drain when she reached across the counter to stop him. "I meant I did not want you to take me to food," she clarified, extending her arm past him to flick the kettle back on. "I did NOT say I wanted to skip my tea and toast here."

Matt chuckled, amused by her ability to be both blunt and abstruse at the same time. But as she drew her hand back, he felt it brush lightly against his bare chest, making his breath catch. She did not even seem to notice, but to him the touch was electric, sending a tingle through him.

Not unlike the way he had felt just now looking at her beautiful face in the morning sunlight.

Clearing his throat, he reached for the bread, asking, "One piece or two?"

...

As Matt's car traveled through the morning streets, Emily began to have regrets. She and Jess had been unable to find the final resting place of Gideon Anderson - "a distant relative of Matt's," Emily had been quick to explain - but they had found the other graves relatively quickly. That, it seemed, had been the easy part, for the address was proving quite difficult to find.

But it wasn't simply the unfamiliarity with the streets that was making her anxious - she was beginning to wonder if this had been such a good idea. Perhaps some doors were best left shut. Perhaps she should simply leave the past in the past. Perhaps...

"A cemetery?" Matt asked as they finally pulled up at the address.

Realising it was too late to turn back now, Emily merely nodded.

Matt shrugged, not asking anything further as he searched for a parking space. He finally found one several blocks away, and they were soon wending their way back along the misty streets by foot. Emily could sense her pace gradually slowing as they went, reluctant to arrive; thankfully Matt slowed with her, saying nothing. She wondered if he knew what she had in mind, but he remained silent, as if he somehow sensed that words wouldn't help.

Finally they reached their destination, the wrought iron bars of the cemetery gate entwined with overgrown ivy. Emily stopped, hesitant to proceed. Matt stood at her side, neither reaching for the latch nor asking what she was doing - instead, he merely raised an inquiring eyebrow, wordlessly letting her know that whatever happened next was her decision, that if she elected to turn and walk away, they need never mention it again.

It was just what she needed, and she determinedly reached for the gate.

Unfortunately, her forceful gesture was met with a rusted latch that refused to budge, and it took both her and Matt several minutes to finally get the gate open.

"Not a popular place," Matt teased as they entered the small overgrown graveyard, still not inquiring as to why they were here. From the dates on the nearest gravestones, he had probably already figured out the reason, but Emily was still thankful for his lack of open inquiry.

Emily looked around, trying to get her bearings. "I believe Jess said they are over here," she said, boldly taking off for the back corner before she could change her mind.

...

They came to a stop in front of a cast iron cross, beneath which lay a small marble slab, well-worn from over a century of exposure to the elements. Brushing aside the foliage, Matt read aloud, "In Memoriam: Edwin Stoker & his loving wife Violet."

"Probably the only time 'loving' was ever used to describe their marriage," Emily commented. Her voice did not sound bitter or sad but merely as if she were stating a fact.

About her parents, Matt presumed, staring back down at the grave. He had never bothered to ask Emily her maiden name - and she had never volunteered it - but this could only belong to her parents.

"The only thing he ever cared about was money...and position, I suppose," Emily continued, speaking neither to him nor the grave but simply to the boundless past. "My mother was such a disappointment to him, bearing only one child, and a girl at that. When Henry came along, there was a strange sense of redemption, as if I had served a purpose after all. The father of a Lady - that actually meant something to him. Never mind how I..."

As she trailed off into a sigh, Matt continued to say nothing, keeping his eyes affixed on the grave marker so she would not feel the need to kerb her commentary for his sake. Deep down, however, his heart was breaking. He had never realised how good he had had it, for at least there had been his mission to focus on - she had had nothing to look forward to but years of being a good wife to a man whom she didn't love...and a good daughter to a man who didn't love her.

"Yet despite the consequences," she went on, "despite all the rumours and innuendoes, my father seemed to care not when I left...nor when I returned. As if my existence was of no significance to his world." Under her breath, she added, "At least Henry felt SOMETHING."

Her voice cracked somewhat at this last, and Matt silently reached down and took her hand. She never spoke of her time "back home" - the few months she had spent back in her own time after being sent away had seemed a particularly taboo subject between them - and he wanted her to know that she need not spare his feelings if she wanted to talk.

His message must have gotten through for she smiled and looked up at him. "Henry knew," she stated matter-of-factly. "About us, being together on my travels."

Matt was about to say something flippant when a memory of his own suddenly resurfaced, and he quickly released her hand. After the raptor had attacked Henry in the art museum, Matt hadn't given much thought to what the man had said beforehand, but now the words stung bitterly in his ears: "Get to your feet, woman, or your lover dies."

Henry had thought his wife had been unfaithful, and who could blame him, when Matt was suddenly there to fill in the missing piece. Her husband must have seen how comfortable they were together, sending his jealousy right over the edge. Emily's insistence that "this man means nothing to me" had rung hollow even to Matt's own ears, despite his firsthand knowledge that she had done nothing to break her marriage vows. Was it jealousy that had ultimately convinced Henry to lock away his wife? Would he have even considered sending her off to Bedlam had Matt not intervened? Could she perhaps have happily returned to her old life if only Matt had kept his distance?

This new sense of guilt was well-nigh unbearable, this idea that, not only had he forced her to return to that time, but he himself had helped create the intolerable situation she found there.

Emily, however, had seemingly moved on, caught up in her own memories. She reached into her rucksack and pulled out a single flower, tenderly laying it upon the grave. Straightening, she turned to him, saying simply, "And now it is your turn."

"My turn?" he asked, thoroughly confused.

She nodded. "I have performed my Father's Day duty, and now it is time you performed yours."

Matt pretended to frown, teasing, "Didn't Jess say something about it involving breakfast in bed?"

But Emily did not look amused. Instead, she handed him a second flower, asking pointedly, "So where are we going?"

...

Matt had not said much on the drive. Emily could tell he was angry, though she couldn't quite tell with whom. She knew he was reluctant to deal with his feelings towards his father, but she knew he must.

Going to see her own father's grave had seemed to help her, giving her a sense of closure, allowing her to truly put her old life behind her. She had dealt with her loss of Henry, but this was the first time she'd acknowledged to herself that leaving her family behind had been the correct decision. Her existence had not mattered to them, but it mattered to Matt...and the rest of the ARC team. In her own time, her only use had been to serve, first her father and then her husband, but here she was truly useful, appreciated for both who she was and what she could do. Until now, she had not noticed how much she had been holding herself back, somehow reluctant to call this "home", having not yet said goodbye to her old one; now she felt as if a great weight had been lifted. She belonged here - as Matt had once told her she did - and she now felt as if she could truly pursue a new life for herself here, free from the bonds of her old one. Free at last from her father's influence and her husband's control.

Free to love whom she chose.

She glanced across the car at Matt, hoping this outing would do him as much good as it had done her. The fact that he had never told the others on the ARC team - his closest friends - that his father had come with him to this time meant there was something as yet unresolved between Matt and his father, and the sooner he faced it, the sooner he'd be able to...

What? Emily wondered. Admit his true feelings for her? She was certain he loved her - just as she was certain she loved him - but, until now, neither had been willing to admit it, to risk the possibility of rejection that always comes with the bearing of one's true feelings. Not to mention there was always the future hanging over their heads. Matt had disclosed his visit from his future self, telling him to "Go back," and so for the past several months he and Emily had essentially been living for the moment, yet neither had exactly been seizing the day. Instead, they had plodded on with their day-to-day routine, sharing a home but not a bed, counting the days until an anomaly opened to the future. They were destined to be together - she was certain of it - yet neither was willing to do anything about it. Perhaps they had both suffered too much disappointment, too much loss, to risk putting themselves on the emotional line. But if they could only work through their loss - as she now felt she had - perhaps then they could...

The view outside the windscreen suddenly invaded her thoughts as Matt pulled onto a long, tree-lined street.

"This looks familiar," she said aloud, looking about.

"Yeah," Matt nodded but said nothing more, and it took Emily a moment to realise where they were. It looked familiar because it was - he had brought her to this place once before, to "meet someone" she later learnt was his father. She should have guessed that he would have scattered the ashes here, where his father had spent his final days.

The car descended once again into stillness as it crawled along the dappled lane, Matt's face nearly expressionless. Emily realised that, to a casual observer, Matt and her own father must seem quite alike - holding themselves apart from people, saying little...and expressing even less. But Emily knew that the two men were worlds apart. Her father had truly lacked emotions whereas Matt had them in abundance. Sometimes still waters ran deep, and Matt's were fathomless. Despite his quiet manner, he was one of the most passionate men she had ever met. After all, very few people would have been willing to sacrifice their own lives simply to save the world, yet he'd done so without a second thought...even after she'd pleaded with him to stay. Perhaps his surviving was some sort of gift from the cosmos, karma's way of thanking him for his act of selflessness.

But regardless of why he had survived, he was here now and was pulling the car to a stop. She could sense the anxiety in him, and she suddenly felt guilty for having forced this upon him. Placing a hand tenderly upon his arm, she asked, "Are you certain you want to do this?"

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Do I have a choice?" he teased.

Emily was pleased, recognising that, like herself at the cemetery gate, he seemed to know this was the right thing to do. "No," she said with a grin. "No choice."

Matt nodded. "Yeah, that's kinda what I thought. C'mon."

...

It felt strange to be here. Matt couldn't even count the number of times he'd walked these same paths with his father over the last few years, discussing their mission, how he should proceed, what he should do...whom he should sacrifice. Yet this was the first time he'd come since his father had passed. There had been no service, no wake - Matt had simply been given the urn and had come here alone to disperse the ashes. Then he'd walked away and never looked back, certain that his feelings were too fresh, too raw, to sort through in this setting.

The place hadn't changed, only the seasons. It had been a wet winter and spring, and now that summer had arrived, everything was green and lush. He took a deep breath, savouring the oxygen he could practically feel radiating off the plants around him - it was no wonder his father had loved this place. If anything, Gideon had appreciated the greenery even more than Matt, perhaps because, unlike his son, he still had faint memories of the outdoors from his own boyhood, before the storms had completely overtaken their world. Matt wondered if his father now walked in some eternal garden, a beautiful place where it was always summer, far from the barren hell they had lived in back home.

But there was no use in speculating about the after-life. Today was Father's Day, a day meant instead for celebrating his father's time on this planet. But what could be celebrated? Matt wondered. His father had spent his whole life waiting and had died before he could witness the mission's success.

Whereas Matt had spent his whole life striving for his father's approval, doing whatever he could to make his father proud. With his father gone, it were as if he had lost a part of himself, lost his sense of purpose.

"You achieved what you both came here to do," Emily suddenly spoke as if she had been reading his very thoughts. "I am certain your father would be proud."

Matt stopped, somehow reluctant to accept this. "But it's not finished," he pointed out.

"Will it ever be?" Emily asked, and he thought he could see the barest hint of a smile in her eyes. She reached down and took his hand, pointing out, "All any of us can do is our best, and you have certainly proven you are capable of that."

He squeezed her hand in return, no words able to express how much he appreciated her support. He realised now that the main reason he had kept quiet about his father - the reason he hadn't bothered to visit here since his death - was not the sense of anger or loss he felt but instead the deep-seated anxiety, the overwhelming concern that he had not lived up to all that his father had hoped for.

But Emily was right - he had done his best...and would continue to do so. What more could a son do for his father?

Holding up the flower he had brought with him from the car, he now handed it Emily.

"This is for your father," she frowned. "Why are you giving it to me?"

Matt shrugged. "Look around. I think my father has plenty of greenery to keep him happy."

Emily smiled, that radiant smile that never failed to send chills down his spine. "And what about you?" she asked.

Looking at her, Matt realised that he had been holding himself back for fear that his father would somehow disapprove. But he needn't anymore. Gideon's voice was no longer sounding in Matt's head, allowing his owns feelings - his own desires - to freely surface.

"I think that we should skip the graves on Father's Day next year..." Emily began to frown, but he squeezed her hand and pulled her close, so his last words were spoken mere centimetres from her face, "...and instead we should simply stick with breakfast in bed."

And he saw her face break into a joyous grin an instant before their lips met.

...

THE END