Title: She Had The World.
Pairing: Abby Maitland/Connor Temple. (Past Abby Maitland/Stephen Hart)
Summary: That is Connor for you. He cares too much, in his own unique way that drips with unrequited love and sincerity. Connor is her flat mate, best friend if she is to be honest. She knows from eavesdropping that Connor had been the one to perform possibly life-saving first aid on her in the mud and blood, had been the one who had insisted on traveling in the ambulance with her and had not left her side since except when necessary, or when he was reluctantly pried away by a solemn Nick.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Abby, Connor and any others mentioned, ITV does. This is not real.
A/N: First Primeval story. Set in an alternative ending to 2:03.
She Had The World
The hospital room is silent, save for the heart machine that is steadily beeping and Connor's light snores. The hospital bed is hard, the sheets are scratchy and the eye sore of a gown leaves Abby feeling more than a little exposed. Her platinum pixie-cut hair is fanned around her head and her fringe stuck to her forehead. She couldn't care less, as she toys with the name tag around her wrist that reads 'Abby Sarah Maitland' in neat cursive handwriting. She has a needle in the back of her hand, connected to an IV as well as those sticky pads with wires trailing to one of the machines stuck on her chest. Abby doesn't know how long she has been here now, her rigid on the hospital bed and Connor curled up in the padded seat; she could have been here for a year or just a week for all she knows. She's lost track of time, amongst other things.
She had heard about the 'terrible accident' from snippets of conversation between the nurses while they changed her drip as she pretended to still be out cold. She hadn't understood at first, thought they had been talking about some unlucky soul down in cubicle three, but when nurses stood over her and whispered "Poor little dear, she had the world," she knew they meant her.
All Abby remembers is bits, nothing concrete with too many pieces missing to complete the puzzle. She'd been with Nick at the theme park when it happened. She can remember sitting in the JCB, the controls thick and sturdy in her hands as she tried to distract the creature.
Nothing. A black hole in her memory.
Next she remembers lying on her back in the mud, the deep animal claw scratches on her face, chest and stomach bleeding out on to the soil, staining her porcelain skin and white-blonde hair with blood. Then, another blank.
She lifts her left hand, along with the IV line, to caress her face. First her fingers land on the smooth skin of her nose, tiny and delicate, and follows the slight curve of her cheek bone. Her fingers dip into the deep, crack-like scar on her cheek, the scar tissue still raw and tender beneath her fingertips, her dressings having been removed to give her wounds a chance to heal in the open. She feels the bumps and the hollows of the several inch long scar before moving down her neck to trace a similar array of cuts on her upper chest. It feels like a massacre, like she is the single survivor of a grisly horror film. Abby continues further beneath the hospital gown, over her round breasts to her stomach and the inch wide, jagged 'Grand Canyon' of all scars that falls short of slicing through her navel.
She knew what the nurses meant; how beautiful she had once been before she became a mutilated mess. Ugly. A monster in her own right. Part of her wants to find the next anomaly, walk into it and never come back.
Not once does Abby remember Stephen coming to see her, slipping from conscious to unconscious and unresponsive in her own private hospital room where prying eyes and the whispers that came with them could be kept at bay. He was the one who was meant to care, in his own odd way, but she knows that he would rather go play infidelity with Nick's wife than sit at her bedside, much like Connor had done for goodness knows how long.
That is Connor for you. He cares too much, in his own unique way that drips with unrequited love and sincerity. Connor is her flat mate, best friend if she is to be honest. She knows from eavesdropping that Connor had been the one to perform possibly life-saving first aid on her in the mud and blood, had been the one who had insisted on traveling in the ambulance with her and had not left her side since except when necessary, or when he was reluctantly pried away by a solemn Nick.
Abby is going to have to come up with something big to thank him when she gets out of here.
She runs her index finger up and down the hideous scar on her lower stomach, rising and falling with the crevices as she tries to stifle a yawn with her other hand. It doesn't work as Connor shoots up, alert and ready, a huge smile stretching his face when he sees Abby.
"Abby! You're awake!" He beams, his knee bouncing up and down; a nervous habit of his.
Abby just groans, throwing the arm that isn't attached to the IV over her eyes. She hadn't wanted to bring her consciousness to Connor's attention for at least another few hours, after she'd had time to piece together her memory. "Who has been feeding Rex?" Abby puts on her best groggy voice as she tries to divert the whole 'how are you feeling?' conversation, acting like she really had just awoken and had not been dropping in and out of consciousness for what feels like days.
"I have, don't worry. Never mind that, I'm going to have to call Nick and Stephen, Lester and Jenny... and everyone else to tell them --"
"No," Abby interrupts, removing her arm from over her eyes, "Just, stay for a while. I don't want any fuss and madness right now, please?"
Connor smiles, knowingly, and takes her left hand and tangles their fingers together, kissing the skin just above where the needle breaks the surface of her hand. He doesn't need to say anything or ask anything else, his eyes connecting with Abby's diluted blue ones over their hands and he can tell that she is scared.
"The sabre-tooth cat got you, Abby. N.. Nick couldn't stop it before it mauled you. We managed to tranquilise it before it.. before it killed you. I'm.. I'm sorry," Connor stumbles over his words, swallowing the lump in his throat and fighting back tears.
No wonder Stephen had never came to see her. The thought of the scars defacing her must have repulsed him. He'd always been one for looks, not brains. Abby doesn't blame him for not coming, not really.
"Connor, what do I look like? Honestly," Abby asks, realising for the first time that her room was void of reflective surfaces. Crafty nurses.
Abby feels Connor's eyes flick over her face, taking in every inch of skin while managing to avoid her eyes. His face contorts in pain as his eyes travel the length of the ugly scar on her left cheek and his eyes fill with sadness as they play upon her lips for a few seconds longer than they should. Abby takes a moment to refresh the Connor in her memory; his long dark hair and beautiful brown eyes, his silly hat and stupid little waistcoat - exactly the way she will always remember him.
"I still think you're beautiful, Abby."
"No, Connor. You don't get it. Nobody is going to want me now, not when I'm like this. Stephen has proved that," Abby blinks, salt water tears slipping from her eyes that sting the still fresh wounds on her face.
"The doctor said they can perform skin grafting on the scars--"
"I don't want plastic surgery."
"They say that you won't be able to tell what happened--"
"Nobody will love me."
"I love you."
Silence falls over them in a suffocating blanket. Abby swallows audibly and starts picking her her hospital gown. It isn't like she hadn't known of Connor's infatuation with her, but it was one of those thoughts she kept buried in the back of her mind for the sake of their friendship. Hearing it out loud only made it more real. Connor removes his hand from Abby's, knotting it with his other free hand and places them between his nervously bouncing knees. His eyes don't stay still either, darting all over the room; from the heart monitor to the IV line. He can't look at Abby for fear of seeing the rejection in her eyes.
"Connor--"
"I'm sorry, Abby. I shouldn't have said that. I know you love Stephen and I accept that. I, I can't just stop this, though. I'll always love you, scars or no scars," Connor smiles, no teeth, bittersweet and downtrodden.
"No, it wasn't love with Stephen. If anything it was lust. With Stephen... it was easy. I didn't want to get tied down with titles and complications and, and um, it was easy for both him and me. I've known it was cooling down between us for a while now, but I didn't want to admit it. He made a break for it before this even happened. Don't be mad at him, Connor."
Abby stops picking at the hideous hospital gown, coarse fibres caught in her long nails and lifts her head to meet Connor's gaze. It hurts, deep in the pit of Abby's stomach as their eyes lock. Abby tries to tell Connor of her suppressed love and Connor tries to numb Abby's pain with the words they cannot say out loud.
Connor takes his hands from between his knees, his left hand gripping one of Abby's small hands within his large ones as his right hand reaches out and hovers over Abby's cheek. He looks at her for permission and she nods, Connor's usually clumsy fingers warily touching the swollen scar tissue. Both he and Abby breathe in sharply as he cautiously tracks down over the angry cut on her raised cheek and follows it down to the corner of her dainty mouth. He doesn't stop there as he gently thumbs Abby's dry bottom lip.
"I'm going to take care of you. I promise. I'll make you cups of tea, I'll fluff your pillows..."
"Come 'ere," Abby barely whispers as she tries her best to scoot over on the hospital bed to give Connor room to climb in beside her.
Connor positions himself next to Abby on the fragile metal-framed bed, bashing his knee in the process and sending Abby into a laughing fit that reminds Connor of how Abby used to be. The Abby he had originally fallen head over heels for. He opens his arms the best he can in the given space and lets Abby move herself into them, embracing her as tight as he can without causing her any more damage. Abby's head reaches Connor's shoulder in their awkward embrace and she pushes her face into his neck, inhaling his familiar, comforting scent as he rests his chin on her head.
"I'll always be here. I'll drive you absolutely mad. You won't be able to get rid of me," Connor breathes into Abby's blonde hair.
"I don't think I want to."
Abby's lips curve into a smile against Connor's neck. She ducks her head out from beneath his chin and brings her head level with his. Connor, he notices that Abby's eyes are no longer diluted but glittering cobalt blue and mesmerising. They twinkle slightly as her eyelids flutter closed and she pushes her small dry lips against Connor's larger moist ones with only a slight hint of hesitation.
Connor's eyes widen as shock sets in for a second or two before it is pushed aside by the realisation of OhMyGod, Abby is kissing me. His dark eyes slip closed, his thick eyelashes fluttering over his cheeks and he kisses Abby back albeit carefully for not wanting to break her further. It is short, sweet, while still feeling like an eternity of connection when Abby draws back to breathe. She smiles, hiding the slight grimace as it pulls at her angry wound, and looks at Connor through the thin curtain of her platinum fringe. His eyes are close to falling from their sockets, his cheeks flushed red and his jaw is somewhere between his knees and toes and she can't help but laugh and hit him on the arm.
"Earth to Connor!" She pokes him in his ribs and it seems to do the trick as he mumbles a string-load of rubbish. "Consider that the beginning of my thank you for everything."
"The beginning? You definitely aren't getting rid of me," Connor grins and cradles Abby close to his chest like a small child. "You still have the world, Abby. It never left."