Summary- While stuck in the Cretaceous period Abby and Connor talk about family and Connor reveals something that he had never told anyone before. Slight Connor/Abby. Mentions of past child abuse, but nothing explicit.

Disclaimer- I do not own and I am making no money from playing with the characters.

A/N- I've never actually read any Primeval fanfiction before, but I've obsessively watched all the episodes and I wrote this on a whim after seeing the new one. Obviously written post series 3 and pre series 4.

Times Like These

Connor ran a hand through his hair. He cringed at how long it was getting. Not that he had a problem with it, but soon Abby would start nagging him to let her cut it. They had been stuck in the past for about nine months, give or take. Keeping track of time was rather difficult. So far she had coerced him into letting her cut his hair three times. Each time it ended up too short, and very uneven. Under normal circumstances she probably wouldn't have done a bad job, but hunting knifes did not make for terribly good hair cutting tools.

It was amazing how much he missed the simple things about living in the 21st century. When they had first got trapped what he missed the most were technology-based things like electricity and running water and computers and mobile phones. But now, nine months in it was the small things he found it most difficult to go without. Scissors were something he would never take for granted again when they managed to get back. Along with all food.

At the same time it was incredible how quickly they had been found ways to deal with their new surroundings. Connor had found it amazing that when forced into most circumstances, human beings could adapt to virtually anything. This was not a new discovery for him, but he had never found his boundaries pushed this far before. Still, he was adapting, and doing things he never thought himself capable of before. Things like hunting, fishing, finding food, and even fighting were becoming second nature to him. He had discovered that he was able to go from sleep to waking in the blink of an eye if he heard something that could be interpreted as a threat. Even a twig cracking 100 meters away could snap him awake bolting upright and reaching for his hand-made spear. He also found that he could fall asleep within minutes, something that he could never have done a year ago, because being trapped here he had learned to take sleep when he could get it, because who knew when there would be another chance.

Connor added a few branches to the fire and looked at Abby. "First thing I'm doing when we get home is eat a meal full of salt and preservatives and everything unhealthy you can imagine."

Abby did not respond. She knew that clinging on to the idea of getting home was something that kept Connor going, but she was far less optimistic. At first she had gone along with Connor, setting up makeshift low-tech ways of detection anomalies, because she herself had also believed that there was some way to get home. But the more time that passed the more she had come to believe that the possibility of them being trapped there forever was much more realistic. They had had the conversation many times before of what they would do when they got home. It almost seemed like a game Connor liked playing to pass the time, and each time she played along, not wanting to crush his hopes, but it was admittedly getting on her nerves.

"What's the first thing you'll do?" he asked her.

Abby almost groaned, but restrained herself. As if they hadn't already listed all the things they missed about their old life to each other a hundred times before. Talking about things he missed may something that Connor enjoyed, but for Abby it just a way of forcing her to remember things that she would never again get to experience. "Sleep in a real bed, I suppose, with real blankets," she said anyway.

"Oh, I love real blankets," Connor sighed contentedly, as if imagining it alone gave him real comfort.

"Or maybe see Jack," she revised. She had been missing her brother more and more lately. "I wonder if he knows what happened to me or if he's just been left wondering why I don't return his calls"

"Becker probably let him know," Connor hesitated when he saw Abby's expression. "I bet he misses you."

"Our parents died in a car wreck years ago, I'm the only family he had left. I wonder how he's doing on his own," Abby rested her chin on her hand, gazing into the fire. "I hope he's alright."

"Better than us, I'll bet. He's got a bed," Connor tried to joke, but Abby didn't smile.

They sat in silence for several minutes before Abby finally looked up. "I've never heard you talk about your family," she looked startled at the realization.

In contrast, Connor's face was somber. "I guess I haven't, have I?"

"How is it that we lived in the apartment together for a year and a half, and we've been alone together here for all this time, and you've never once mentioned your family? You talk all the time, but never about that." Abby sat up a little straighter. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

It had been months since Abby had shown this level of interest in anything, and Connor was loathe to tell her that this was something he didn't really want to talk about. "No, I'm an only child."

"What about your parents?"

"My mum died when I was sixteen. I hadn't seen my dad in really long time, but last I knew he was still living in London," Connor fidgeted uncomfortably, trying unsuccessfully to find something to do with his hands.

"I don't remember you ever going to see your dad," Abby looked surprised.

"No," Connor ran his hand through his hair again. "I guess I haven't seen him since about the time me mum died."

"What?" Abby gaped. "He's alive, and you haven't seen him since you were sixteen?"

"We… never really got along very well," Connor said evasively, avoiding eye contact.

"You're lucky you have a dad, Conner," Abby's voice was irritated, almost angry. "You shouldn't have avoided him all that time just because you don't see eye-to-eye."

Connor sighed. "It was more than that, I-… " he hesitated, trying to find the right word. It had been years since he had spoke about his father, and he found it more difficult than he would have expected. "He didn't like that I wasn't interested in sports and that I liked to read and was into science fiction. I wasn't normal, and he always saw me as a failure. I wasn't enough like him."

Abby's face softened a little. "I'm sure that's not true."

Connor shook his head. "It is. I was too different, and it made him angry. He drank a lot… He just wasn't a very nice man."

Realization swept over the blonde girl's face. "Did he hurt you Connor?"

Connor shrugged and tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Stuck 60 million years in the past, I don't think it's really important to talk about my family issues right now."

Abby reached over and put one hand on Connor's shoulder, trying to get him to look at her. "Tell me, please? Talk to me."

Connor didn't answer for a long time, and at first Abby thought he wasn't going to. "He hit me a lot when I was a kid," Connor looked into the fire, but from the look on his face Abby guessed that whatever he was seeing wasn't in front of him, but somewhere in his memories. "It wasn't 'til I was older that I even realized there was anything different about the way he treated me. I didn't think there was anything wrong with a father hitting his child until I was maybe 6 or 7." Now that he had started talking the words seemed to be flooding out, almost against his will. "He had this belt with a heavy metal buckle... I hated that belt. But at least with that he only hit me on my back or sides. I didn't have to try to hide the marks or make up stories for my teachers about how I got this bruise or that cut."

Abby was horrified at the thought of someone hurting a child, but the idea of someone hurting Connor like that, who was quite possibly the sweetest and most innocent man she had ever met, made her feel sick to her stomach.

"The cigarette burns were the worst. They hurt for so long, and clothes rubbing on them made them hurt even worse. It's still hard to believe that they didn't really leave scars. You can't see them now unless you're looking for 'em." Connor still didn't look up, but his hand reached up and touched his collarbone, and thinking back Abby was sure she remembered there was some light scarring there, though it hadn't been bad enough for her to ask what had caused it. When Connor dropped his hand back to his lap Abby could see it was shaking. "He only used the cigarettes when I had done something really bad. Or something he though was really bad, anyway. His idea of bad was finding a Stephen King book under my bed, or a Star Trek VHS tape in my dresser, or if I told him I didn't want to go out for the football team. Anything that he thought wasn't something a normal boy would do. The fact that I was interested in academics seemed to really disgust him, and I could never understand why." Connor shook his head.

"After mum killed herself-…" Connor flinched and it took him a moment for him to start talking again. Abby felt tears begin to well in her eyes. "After that he got a lot worse. I didn't realize 'til after she was gone how much she protected me from him. Two weeks after her funeral I left home. I moved in with Tom and his parents. They were all great. I had spent a lot of time there even before I left home. They became like family to me. Even after I got my own place when I went to college I still visited his parents a couple times a month. I stopped when Tom died though. I just couldn't face them anymore."

Connor took a deep breath and looked up. Abby was surprised to see that even after admitting what were probably his deepest darkest secrets, his eyes were completely dry. He laughed a little, but it was a desperate and humourless sound. "Wow, I really do talk too much."

Abby wrapped her arms around Connor as a tear slipped down her cheek. She could feel how tightly coiled him muscles were and the fine tremors that ran throughout his entire body. He remained frozen in her embrace for quite a while, but did not pull away. Eventually he relaxed and wrapped his arms around her in return, resting his chin on her head.

They remained there, holding each other for a long time. When they finally pulled back the fire was starting to die down and Connor threw a few more branches on. The light that steamed in from between the branches had faded to a dark gray, and the sounds of the forest were changing from the sounds heard in the day to the ones heard at night.

Abby wiped the remains of tears from her face, still surprised to see that Conner had not been crying at all. She watched Connor as he stood and grabbed his hand-made spear.

"You get some sleep," he said, his voice amazingly calm for everything he had just told her. "I'll take first watch."

"Wait," Abby stood. "Let's watch together for a bit."

Connor smiled at her gratefully, and they both went to sit at the entrance to the natural enclosure of vines, trees, and branches. Abby leaned against Connor and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Connor?" she said softly after a few minutes.

"Yeah?"

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips, then pulled back, looking him in the eye. "Thank you for telling me."

When he smiled this time it was still sad, but there was a touch of amusement there also. He wrapped his arm around her again and pulled her close. "If I had to get stuck in the past with anyone, I'm glad it was you."

She laughed softly and settled in for the long night ahead.

The End