Title: It Was Worth It
Pairing: Stephen/Nick, Abby/Connor
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: major character death
Spoilers: 1.6, 2.7
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I just like to play with them.
Summary: Stephen reminisces about his friends, the ones he lost and the ones that are still with him.
Notes: This is written for primevalathon in response to lsellersfic's request for "Looking back over a long life, what does one (or more) of the Primeval characters pick out." Thanks for being so accommodating for the characters involved and I hope you enjoy it! All mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know if you see any. As always feedback is appreciated.

Stephen really hadn't expected to reach this age, particularly not at first when they were fumbling around in the dark with one dangerous anomaly after another, before they figured out how to track them, where they came from, and how to close them. In fact, according to Nick in one reality he hadn't, having given his live to save them all. That didn't shock him; he'd been injured more times than he could recall protecting the others. He didn't regret it, would have given his life for any of them, particularly Nick. But he would regret how much he knew his death would have hurt Cutter after all the losses they had all suffered. He was thankful every time he managed to survive a close call.

Before Nick, Stephen hadn't had a purpose in life, not really. He had enjoyed what he was studying, was good at it, good at shooting, and anything he put his mind to, but none of them drove him. But upon meeting Nick things had changed. He couldn't say why even now all these years later, but he had been instantly drawn to the older man unlike anyone he'd ever met before or since.

He remembered the night that everything had changed between them, years after Helen's desertion, yet years before the anomalies began appearing. It had just been an ordinary evening of football and drinks. When Stephen rose to get more drinks, Nick had followed. Stephen had noted that Nick was standing oddly close to him. It wasn't a matter of personal space because after all their years together as friend and the innumerable instances that they were shoved together into too small tents and even inevitably forced to share a sleeping bag, there was no such thing between them. But still the older man usually tried to keep some distance. As Cutter's head lowered towards his, Stephen desperately wanted to let him do it, wanted the kiss with every fiber of his being, had been thinking about it, dreaming about such things for months, years now, but he made himself step back and turn. But not before seeing the flash of hurt across Cutter's face.

But Stephen couldn't, wouldn't, not with what he'd done standing between them. He'd had dozens of chances, more than enough time to have said something, but still he'd been a coward, too scared of losing this man's friendship. But now he stood to lose so much more, and it was his entire fault. Looking back now, he could see how much of a fool he was, but it didn't change the fact that he'd slept with the other man's wife. And it didn't matter that she wasn't even part of the picture anymore, missing and presumed dead for over seven years.

But Stephen couldn't forget. He didn't even have the luxury of saying that he was drunk when he did it. He cringed, remembering how much like a puppy he had acted, craving the slightest bit of notice, and when that attention was finally bestowed, losing total control of himself. He had been flattered by the idea of an older woman being interested in him, hadn't cared that she'd been married to another professor, had believed the innumerable campus rumors and her lies about their failing relationship. Things finally became clear when they finally had sex, horrible sex at that.

He hadn't had a lot of sex, but he had enough to know that what they did wasn't how it was supposed to be. Helen had taken and taken and taken from him until he had nothing left to give and gave nothing back. He'd been nothing more than a living sex toy to her and afterwards felt unbelievable used and ashamed, and horribly naïve.

The next day before he could talk himself out of it, he changed specialties and requested an advisory change. He'd been slightly horrified to learn that the other Professor Cutter had been appointed his new adviser, the husband of the woman he'd slept with. And he was further horrified as he got to know the man, and realized he was nothing like the impassionate, distant, and uncaring man that Helen had painted him to be. It had been both the best and the worst day of his life. It was the best because he'd never had a closer friend than Nick despite their age differences, but it was the worst because he'd ruined it before it had even began, and his continued silence over the years just made it that much more painful.

Stephen jumped as a hand hesitantly settled on his shoulder.

"Stephen, I'm—"

Stephen spun around and covered Cutter's mouth with before he could say the words. "Don't you dare say you're sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. It's me that should be sorry, me that's at fault, me that's lied to you all these years." He continued on despite the question on Nick's face. "I should have said something ages ago. It's my own fault for not saying anything sooner, for letting it drag out. I'm a coward. I know you're going to hate me after this, but I respect any decision you make." Taking a deep breath, heedless of silent tears streaming down his face, he blurted in a rush. "I slept with Helen."

He clenched his eyes shut unable to bear the condemnation and rejection he knew would fill Cutter's eyes and fully expecting a punch in the face at the very least. Nick was never one for thinking before acting. "It was only one time, months before she disappeared. But that doesn't make it any less horrible. I'm so sorry." He buried his face in his face in his hands, ashamed of his weakness. He had no right to be breaking down like this. It was his own fault. It was Cutter that he should be trying to comfort, to explain things too. But when he opened his mouth to try, he couldn't force the words out

He jumped again, startled when Nick's hands rested on his shoulders and pulled his forward, until their bodies met. He didn't understand what was happening, had expected a blow or at the very least some yelling, but he didn't know what to make of it when Nick's arms wrapped around him and pulled him close.

At Cutter's words, Stephen's world fell out from beneath his feet.

"I knew, Stephen."

"What?" Stephen exclaimed in shock, trying to jerk back, but Nick's hold wouldn't allow it.

"I didn't know for sure until now, but the moment you requested the transfer I at least guessed that she'd make some sort of pass at you. You were her type." The and minewasn't spoken but still there.

Stephen drew a shuddering breath, both feeling as though he'd been punched in the gut, while at the same time a weight felt like it had been lifted from his shoulders allowing him to stand straight for the first time in years. He didn't know how to react to this revelation. He felt both cheated and relieved: cheated that he could have had years with Nick before this, but relieved that he'd finally said something, that the knowledge of what he'd done wasn't constantly on the outskirts of his mind demanding attention.

Stephen swallowed thickly. "Why didn't you say anything? Why keep quiet all these years?"

Nick's mouth was so close to his that he could feel ever puff the man's warm breath created against his skin as he spoke softly, "At first I was angry, but not at you. Angry at myself. Angry at Helen. Angry at the world. I couldn't consider anything else, and it's what drove me. Then as that dulled, I wasn't sure if you'd be interested; you never gave any indication."

"Neither did you," Stephen bit out.

"I know and I'm sorry. We're both sorry." He sighed. "What a waste of time." Leaning forward Nick had captured Stephen's mouth and this time, he met him halfway. They had a lot of time to make up for after all.

Stephen smiled at the memory. They'd sure made up for lost time that night. And Helen's reaction when she'd casually thrown out her insignificant bombshell about their short lived affair didn't get her the response she'd wanted was comical. The real treat though had been the look on her face when Cutter had grabbed his hand and pulled him close, throwing his arm over his shoulder in a clear sign of possession. He hadn't realized a human could turn quite that shade of puce.

Feeling an arm wrap about his shoulder, he looked up into the heavy lines of Cutter's face. The anomalies hadn't been kind go any of them, at least those of them that had been around since the beginning. Nick had lost an eye tripping and falling on a stick of all things, but they were running from velociraptors (for the ninth time) at the moment, so he at least had that excuse. He'd opted for a patch rather than a glass eye. At first it looked like he was playing pirate, but as he aged it had fit well into with his rakish appearance.

"What's so amusing," his partner asked.

"Just reminiscing," Stephen replied still smiling. Looking down out their window to the everyday happenings below, he couldn't help but marvel how much things had changed over the years. When Elizabeth glanced up for a moment and gave him a small grin and a wave before returning back to her work, he felt his chest tighten, and he murmured. "She looks more and more like her mother."

Nick nodded his agreement.

Abby had died almost two decades ago. It wasn't even something anomaly related, but rather an ordinary thing. She developed colon cancer and by the time it was caught it was too late. The only consolidation was that her death was quick, she didn't waste away and linger over the inevitable. In her wake she left behind a devastated Connor and ten year old twins, Elizabeth and Eric who missed her greatly.

Connor had throwing himself into work but also into taking care of the kids. They couldn't have wanted for a better father. He'd still been a bit of a kid himself at the time even though he was creeping up on forty, but when Abby died, he lost that last bit of innocence.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Come in," both he and Nick said at the same time.

He couldn't help but grin as Connor entered, as much the fashion misfit now as he'd been when he was younger, and came to stand next to them at the window. Connor didn't have to do the tech work anymore, could work in administration like he and Nick had moved after they both retired from field work. But Connor had scoffed at the offer, saying they day he became a paper pusher was the day that pigs flew. Even still he always found excuses to come out of his cave and visit. He liked the view he'd said before. But when he refused a higher office, they knew that he really just came up for the company.

After several moments, Stephen gave up his attempt at pretending he was watching the people below anymore and instead stare at his long time friend and partner. Things hadn't always been easy. Hell, they'd been downright torture at times, but for this, for everything around him, it was worth it.

A look at a different route I took but decided I didn't like (because I don't like deleting things)

"I knew, Stephen."

"What?" Stephen exclaimed in shock, trying to jerk back but Nick's hold wouldn't allow it.

"Our honeymoon had barely ended before Helen's affairs started. Hell, it wouldn't have surprised me if they had begun before we were married, but at least she was discrete and hid them then. You definitely weren't the first and probably weren't the last. The day you showed up in my office, I knew. I should have said something, but it was so obvious that you wanted to forget to move on, so I helped you with that." Cutter raised one hand to cup Stephen's jaw, and he couldn't help but nuzzle into it. "You were my type."

"I don't understand."

Cutter gave him a placating look as though he was talking to a child. "It was never a secret that I was bi. Most people just conveniently forgot it when I got married, or assume that I went blind. But I never stopped looking, and Helen always watched. It was my fault that she went after you. You were as far from her type as can be. But I was too obvious in my appraisal for you, and she went after you knowing that I never would. She never could share or stand to be second best. I know her plan was to spoil you for me. She never could have guessed that he actions when have sent you running straight to me. I've never seen her as angry as that night, demanding I give you back. She just never understood that it was your choice and that there was no going back."

This time Stephen managed to wrench himself from Cutter's embrace, suddenly not so keen to be so close and unbelievably pissed. "You knew the entire time and didn't say anything. Let me torture myself thinking you'd hate me. And all along it was just part of some sick game you were playing with you wife. What did you call it? See who can tie the poor boy into the biggest knot? See who could make him for in love with them?"