Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval.
Chapter summary: As Lester tries to deal with the aftermath of the chaos left behind by Ethan, Matt must find a way to deal with everything on his plate - including Emily's departure. Danny searches for his brother, while Philip tries to quell Connor's anxieties.
Notes: I've tried to stay as true to the tone of the show as possible, but this chapter contains a little more angst than the series usually does. Also, some of the language used is slightly more coarse than in canon, but that's a rare occurrence and not hugely offensive.
Jess could feel Lester's eyes on her as she walked slowly back towards her desk and sat down. She stared at the CCTV feed, at the corridor where only moments before, Becker had been lying, unmoving. Clicking the camera feed off the screen, she tried to shake the image from her mind.
She had seen Becker like that once before, but Matt and Connor had been there with him and somehow that had helped, just a little bit. But today, he had been lying there alone and helpless. She had been the first one to see him. She had called the medics and then she had been at his side. She didn't remember making the conscious decision to go to him. Her legs had just moved and before she could stop herself, she was crouched next to him.
It had felt like an age, waiting for the medics to arrive. She had tried to find a pulse, but she hadn't felt anything, and for the briefest of moments she had been angry. Angry at Ethan for doing this. At the medics for taking so long. At Becker for letting himself be beaten so easily.
The medics had come racing around the corner, but it had still all been too slow for Jess. As they had rushed around, she had heard Lester's voice behind her, and then she had felt his hands pulling her away from Becker. She hadn't turned to look at him. She had kept her eyes on Becker, watching him be carried away to the medical centre, and then she had just walked. Away from Lester, away from that corridor, back to her desk, where everything felt just a tiny bit more normal.
As she tried to busy herself with work, she was fully aware that Lester was standing behind her. She ignored him.
"Do you actually have any work to do, Jess, or are you just going to keep pretending I'm not here?" he said eventually.
She turned to look at him. She couldn't quite make sense of the expression he was wearing. "Sorry," she said. "Was there something you needed?"
"Can I see you in my office, please?"
Jess nodded and made her way shakily to Lester's office. A thousand thoughts were whirling around in her head. Most of them didn't even make sense. One of them kept pushing itself to the forefront of her mind: Becker's dead. Becker's dead. Becker's dead.
Lester took his seat and Jess sat down too, grateful to take the weight off her legs. She wasn't sure they were going to last much longer. Lester leaned forward, and Jess broke their eye contact, choosing instead to scrutinize Lester's stapler. She could almost hear him searching for the words to tell her: Becker's dead.
"The medics are doing everything they can," he said eventually.
"You mean he's still alive? Is he gonna be okay?" Her voice was much quieter than she had expected it to be.
"He's weak," answered Lester, shuffling some papers that lay on his desk.
"Is he going to be all right?" Jess asked again, frustration creeping into her voice. All she wanted was a straight answer. A positive answer.
Lester looked her in the eye. "We don't know, Jess."
"Right. Okay." She cleared her throat and stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I have some work to do."
"Actually, Jess, no. I don't excuse you." Lester indicated for her to sit down again, but she stayed standing. All she needed to do was keep herself occupied. If her mind was on her work, she would have no time to worry about Becker.
Lester sighed. "You're clearly in shock, Jess. You should take the rest of the day off."
Jess shook her head. "I'm fine. Honestly. I'd rather keep working."
There was a silence as Lester studied Jess' face. She managed to give him half a smile. She knew it wasn't enough to convince him that she was all right, but he seemed to understand what she was saying. He nodded.
"All right. If you'd rather keep working…." He shuffled another pile of papers on his desk and looked up at Jess again. "Close the door on your way out."
Jess left in silence and headed straight for the ladies' toilets. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. There were tear tracks on her face, but she didn't remember crying. She turned on the tap and splashed her face with water, the ice cold as refreshing as it was punishing.
Collected and composed, she stepped back into the corridor. A left turn would take her to the medical wing. Right would lead her back to her desk.
She wasn't sure if she was ready to see Becker again. Not if he was still unconscious. Seeing him like that would only upset her even more, that much she knew. But the thought of him lying there on his own made her stomach twist itself into knots.
She took a deep breath and turned left.
As his surroundings changed from breeze-block walls to a rocky landscape, Danny sighed. He thought he had left this place behind for good. He thought he had made it home. He had made it home, and it had felt so incredible to see his friends again – even Lester – but he should have known that where the ARC was concerned, things were never that simple.
He glanced behind him. The anomaly was gone. There was every chance he wouldn't make it back again. Right now, though, making it back wasn't the issue. He had to find Patrick.
There was a part of Danny - a much larger part than he was comfortable with - that wished that Patrick hadn't come back. That he was still out there somewhere…somewhen. Still the lost, innocent kid that Danny had been searching for all those years.
Innocent. A bitter laugh escaped Danny. Patrick wasn't innocent, not any more. He was a killer. A murderer.
No. Ethan was a killer. Not Patrick. This Ethan character had taken over Patrick's mind and locked him away, but that innocent kid was still in there, still fighting to get out, screaming to make himself heard over that other man. That brutal, heartless bastard who kept drowning out the only remaining part of him that was truly human.
"I can't risk him going through to another human time." That's what Danny had told Matt. And it was true enough. Ethan was dangerous. He was a threat to everyone. But Danny's concern wasn't protecting everyone. It was protecting Patrick.
He only hoped he wasn't too late.
Matt stared at the endless stream of traffic in front of him and sighed as he turned off the engine. He was definitely going to be here for a while. He needed to get back to the ARC, but if he was honest, he was grateful for the chance to think. And there was so much to think about.
According to Danny, Philip was somehow connected to Helen Cutter. Matt had read all the mission reports involving Helen Cutter, and to say they painted her in a negative light would be a gross understatement. She had created an army of clones, blown up the ARC, shot her own husband and tried to stop the evolution of the human race before it had even started. And now it seemed even being dead wasn't going to stop her causing trouble.
Any ARC worker being connected to Helen Cutter was dangerous enough, but Philip…he had access to anything and everything. Even if he wasn't the one Matt was looking for, he had to be stopped. And as much as Matt hated to admit it, he couldn't stop Philip alone. He had to tell someone what Danny had told him, but if Philip was connected to Helen Cutter, others might be too. There was nothing to say Philip wasn't working with someone else; someone the whole team trusted – Abby, Jess, Connor…
Connor.
In Witchfield, Connor had told Matt he was working with Philip. He had said it was classified. And if top secret, highly confidential work wasn't a clear signpost to guilt, Matt didn't know what was.
Sighing again, he closed his eyes. There was a moment of blissful darkness before Emily's face formed in his mind. Tears rolling down her cheeks, she drifted further and further away until she was gone, and there was nothing left but a bright light. Within seconds, the light was gone too, and the darkness was back, drowning him, tormenting him.
When he opened his eyes again, the sea of brake lights that greeted him suddenly seemed much more inviting.
"Drink?" Philip offered, pouring himself a whisky.
"No. Thank you." Connor swallowed, trying to push away the lump in his throat. He didn't quite know how to feel. Any other day, he would have been drowned in disbelief – he was, after all, in Philip Burton's house, sat on Philip Burton's sofa – but right now he couldn't find it in himself to care all that much.
He could hear Philip talking in the background. He was saying something about good quality whisky, but his voice was blurry and muffled under the noise in Connor's own head.
Working at the ARC had given Connor more than his fair share of shocks. The mere existence of the anomalies, for one. Something the whole team now took for granted was something that, only a few years ago, had baffled everyone, even Professor Cutter. But over the years, through long days and late nights of research and calculations and exploration, through many battles and too many losses, the team had come to realise that the anomalies weren't just mysterious. They were deadly.
But the research Connor had done today and the conclusions he had drawn had shocked him – scared him – more than anything he had encountered in the past five years.
"Now," said Philip, taking a seat next to Connor. "Talk me through this again. Thousands of anomalies, you say."
Connor nodded. "Everywhere. Past, present and future." His voice was shaky. "Eventually they'll cover the entire planet. There's no knowing what might happen. Creatures could go through, from the future into the past, from the Jurassic to the Cretaceous. It could completely change the course of evolution."
"Calm down, Connor," said Philip, pushing a whisky into his hands.
"We need to stop it," Connor replied, ignoring the drink. "We need to find a way to – to stall the anomalies, or something. Anything."
"Of course. How soon is this going to happen?"
"I don't know. But soon, definitely soon."
"Give me an estimate."
"We've got maybe six months before it gets out of control," said Connor. "That's if we're really lucky."
Philip nodded. Connor was amazed that he was managing to keep so calm. But then, if anyone could sort this mess out, it was Philip Burton. The man was a genius, after all.
"I thought…" Philip started, trailing off.
"You thought…?" Connor invited him to finish the thought out loud.
Philip looked up suddenly, as though he had only just become aware of Connor's presence. He smiled.
"I think it's time I told you exactly what it is we're working towards, Connor," he said.
"I thought we were just researching the anomalies. You know, to find out why they're happening."
Philip shook his head. "We're not bothered with why they're happening. We're more interested in what they can do." He leaned forward slightly. "I believe, if we're able to harness the energy created by the anomalies, we could discover a whole new power source. No more burning fossil fuels. No more oil tycoons monopolizing the fuel market. Connor, this is a chance for a brand new chapter in humanity. A new dawn."
"A new dawn…" echoed Connor. He had to admit, the concept sounded appealing. Realistic, however, was another matter entirely. "But what happens when the anomalies multiply?" he asked, as his concern, having momentarily faded, returned.
"More anomalies mean more energy," Philip said simply, before placing his glass on the coffee table and standing up.
"But we need to do something to stop it!" Connor found himself standing up and raising his voice slightly. "It'll get too much for us to handle!"
Philip placed his hands on Connor's shoulders. "Calm down. It won't reach that point." He paused. "You trust me, don't you, Connor?"
Connor nodded. "Yeah. Of course."
"Good. Now, listen. My driver will take you back to the ARC. I want you to stop worrying about the anomalies, okay? Just leave it with me."
Connor nodded again. "Okay." He felt uneasy, but he had every confidence that Philip knew what he was doing.
"You haven't told anyone else about this, I presume?" asked Philip as he showed Connor to the door.
"No. No one."
"Good. Let's keep it that way. Just for now." He opened the door, and Connor could do nothing but nod yet again as he stepped outside. Even the attractive prospect of a 'new dawn' did nothing to extinguish his anxiety, but Connor knew that Philip's were capable hands. He knew Philip would handle the situation, and he trusted him completely.
Matt flung the door to Lester's office open, letting it slam shut behind him. The way Lester almost fell out of his chair at the rather abrupt entrance would normally have been a great source of amusement, but in Matt's current agitated state, it didn't elicit even the smallest of smirks.
"Can I…help you?" said Lester, as the expression of utter astonishment slowly faded back to the poker face Matt knew so well.
Matt suddenly found he was lost for words. He didn't know the answer to that question. In fact, as he had slowly come to realize during the drive back, he didn't know much at all. He didn't know who he was supposed to be looking for. He didn't even know what he was supposed to be stopping, much less how to stop it. He didn't know if what Danny had told him was true, and if it was, he didn't know what Philip was up to. Or the nature of his connection with Helen Cutter. He didn't know if Connor knew what Philip was doing, or if he was just a marionette. He wasn't sure if Emily had really wanted to go back. And what was going on in Ethan's head was anyone's guess.
And perhaps the most unsettling thing was that he didn't know who he could trust.
"Matt?" Lester's voice rang through the air. "What's going on?"
"Danny's gone," said Matt, sitting down opposite Lester. "Ethan – Patrick – he went through the Pliocene anomaly in the prison, and Danny went after him."
"Fantastic," said Lester, rolling his eyes. "I told you we should have let MI-5 deal with him."
"Emily's gone, too," he continued, ignoring Lester's comment. "Back to the Victorian era." Matt was grateful that Lester didn't say anything to that. He didn't particularly want to talk about Emily. Or anything else, for that matter.
He looked through the glass walls of the office, only half listening as Lester informed him that Becker was in the medical wing, and that in light of this, certain team members should be handled with extra care.
"Jess isn't a kid," said Matt, not needing to clarify exactly what Lester meant. "She'll be fine. And I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate being patronized."
Lester opened his mouth to reply, but a knock at the door cut him off. A uniformed soldier entered.
"This is Sergeant Willis," said Lester. "He'll be acting as Head of Security while Captain Becker is incapacitated. Willis is Becker's second in command, a competent soldier."
Matt nodded an acknowledgement. Despite everything, he found himself smirking slightly at Lester's obvious lack of enthusiasm – not that he could be blamed. Becker was an excellent soldier, but his men left plenty to be desired. 'Competent' was all they would ever amount to, and even that might be pushing it. To be frank, Willis was the best of a bad lot.
With another quick glance into the main operations room, Matt saw Connor enter and then turn into a corridor. He quickly excused himself from Lester's office and followed Connor just in time to see him disappear into a laboratory, closing the door behind him.
Matt swore under his breath as he turned back and walked away. At least now he knew where Connor was working, but there was still so much more to figure out. But there had been too many distractions over the past few months, too many red herrings. Time was running out.