Ooh, haven't published Primeval for a while...

Connor Temple couldn't breathe.

His hands shook. He stared at the tea Abby had set down like it was a thing alien to him; at any rate, he had no desire for it. He supposed Abby understood that; she blew on hers but never took a drink. He could feel her eyes boring into him, wanting him to want to talk, but he wasn't there. Not yet.

It wasn't even three hours ago that he had carried the body of Nick Cutter from the remains of the ARC. Body. Damn, it was such a heartless word. That's all he was now, a body with a heart that could no longer feel and a mind that would no longer work tirelessly night after night.

It wasn't even three years ago that the same man now lying somewhere, waiting to be laid to rest, had held him against his shoulder, letting him shed tears over the loss of Tom. The man who helped him to save Abby from the mer-creatures. The man who never for a minute doubted what he could do, though he had thousands of opportunities. The man who was as good a father as he'd ever had.

Abby was still there, and he swallowed grimly. Glancing at the clock, he noted that half an hour had passed since they had arrived home.

"Tea's cold," he said to Abby. At first she took a sip of her own; then, seeing Connor's eyes on her for the first time since they had returned, she grabbed his cup and took it out to the kitchen to heat it. From there she heard Connor sobbing in the main room, but she didn't dare turn around.

She closed her eyes, setting her jaw. Cutter couldn't be gone—she simply refused to believe it. She defied the tear that rolled down her face; she wasn't sad, just angry. Helen: that foul, evil whore. Whatever sort of a woman it took to murder her own husband—to murder at all—Abby wished she had never met.

Jenny, Abby knew, was devastated. Sarah seemed horror-struck; though she barely knew the professor, it didn't take much to develop an affinity for the eccentric Scotsman. Becker seemed ashamed that a man had fallen while he was captain, but even beyond that there was sadness. Though he and Cutter never saw eye-to-eye, Abby knew Lester was furious at losing another man on his team—she had noticed a secret soft spot the boss held for them, even if he himself hadn't. Of herself, Abby could only promise that the next time she met Helen, she'd put a bullet in her brain.

Connor was a different sort of man. She'd watched him grieve for Tom, and she'd learned so much about him in that time, in some ways more than she had wanted to know. He seemed like such a little boy on the outside, but he was a man. He'd break inside, and for the first day you might even catch him shedding a rush of tears. But he would suck it up and push his feelings down, rising to build up others whenever they needed it. Once he'd caught her crying over Stephen; he'd taken her under his arm and she let it out, and afterwards he spoke not a word of it. So many guys would've taken advantage of her, and God only knew how much she wanted Connor to at least say the words again, but no. He was a brother to anyone in pain.

Maybe that was what he needed.

She returned, forgetting the tea. He didn't expect it anyway. She sat down beside him, and he remained motionless until she put a hand around his back. He seemed to lean backwards into it, and she pushed it in a circle over his shirt. It was how she had used to calm Jack down when he was little and had a nightmare, and it apparently worked for Connor as well. His reddened eyes closed and his head rolled back a little. Setting her other hand on his, Abby whispered softly.

"Breathe," she murmured, and she could see his mouth open, his chest move up and down. She nodded. "That's right, slowly. Slowly."

He swallowed, and turned his head slightly to look at her. "Thank you, Abby," he breathed, closing his eyes again. "Thank you."

That was all she needed.

So, whatya think? Read and review, if you've got compliments, concerns, or just want love! :)

XOXO,
Bella