Title: Reality - Part One of Eight
Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.
Word Count: Approximately 22k in total; 3200 this part.
Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.
Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.
Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.
A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilemina_29 and prehistoriccat. Once I put the original angst work in place, without these four directing where I took Connor and Abby from there, Reality would have ended when the second part concluded. Because of them, there are fifteen thousand words beyond what you have here, turning this carousel into a full blown roller coaster. Please, please, please stick with me through this. I know the first parts are dark and confusing, but I promise, promise there is a light at the end of this tunnel and not all is as it seems. Please trust me, and stick around for the ride - ten years ago I played with this same idea for another 'ship - it turned out so much better the second time around.
~~~E~~~
Long days had passed since the end of New Dawn, the end of Philip Burton, and the realization of society that anomalies existed. In those days, countries across the world scrambled in preparation, seeking guidance from the British team as they struggled to understand the change in the world as they knew it. Lester and his team, for their parts, provided every ounce of aid that they could afford; locking mechanisms, case studies, veterinary reports on some of the more unusual suspects to cross through, and seasoned members of the team spreading out to ensure the spread of as much education as possible before chaos erupted from the ashes.
It wasn't until all was set right, that the world moved on and stopped talking about the strange glowing lights that appeared across the world, bringing with them creatures long deceased, that the inquiries began. Government after government seeking someone to blame for the disaster that had taken so many lives, and whereas Lester wore the brunt of the onslaught with clever wit and a sharp tongue, he couldn't stop the eyes from turning to Connor Temple, the last remaining member of New Dawn. Connor bore the accusations well, providing just enough information and explanation to satisfy the pound of flesh being sought for most agencies, his saving grace the fact that he'd not caused the rampage of anomalies to open across the world, but instead built the machine that gathered them all into the heart of London, risking obvious danger only to his own country while at the time protecting the countries unprepared. The British agencies, however, were not pacified by this knowledge, and as the days wore on, Connor realized his future with the ARC program existed on rapidly receding stone shelves, eroding away by visit after visit of people seeking his blood.
When they came for him, it wasn't in the light of day at the ARC in relative safety, where Lester could huff and bluster whilst Connor was led to safety, but rather deep in the dark of night where there was no one to stop them from pulling him half asleep from his bed and out into the remarkably biting chill of the spring night. What shattered him, however, broke all his resolve and stole from him his fight, was the sight of his Abby being pulled out of bed with him, her blue eyes panicked and confused as her hands were tied behind her, not even allowed to change from her thin lingerie, the smallest of decencies denied them as separate cars drove them off to some place unknown.
As expected, he was questioned heavily. What was the purpose of New Dawn? Why had he chosen to help Philip Burton rather than maintain his rather prestigious position at the ARC? Had he sabotaged Burton's machine? Taken payback for the teams that had left him stranded a year prior? What was the purpose in putting England at such risk?
He had no answers. He'd vehemently denied any involvement in a plot to undermine England. He'd almost laughed at the thought of taking revenge over his time in the Cretaceous - they realized that their time alone there was the only reason he and Abby were where they were today, didn't they? Nature had put England at such risk, he'd proclaimed with a tinge of frustration, he'd only made the mistake of helping a madman make it worse.
It was when they started asking about Abby's involvement, however, that Connor finally reacted. He begged them to leave her out of it, that any punishment was his alone, that she'd tried to warn him of what could happen. He cursed them when they laughed in his face, the lover of the man behind it all must have been aware of what he was doing, yet still, she'd remained quiet. He wept, finally broken, when they told him his punishment - life in prison, but not the type he knew, one that was created specifically for crimes like his own, and Abby'd be joining him in paying his dues.
Some small, cruel part of him latched onto the knowledge that Abby'd be with him through it all, holding him to the earth as he followed his captors through the building and into the elevator that led him deep into the bowels of the building. They stopped him at a small laboratory, ushering him inside, laying him on a stretcher and tying him down. Only when he was completely secured did the door open again, a second stretcher rolled into the dark room, his heart clenching tight when he saw the unconscious Abby strapped to the bed. His cries went unanswered, however, the men ignoring him completely as they prepared the needles that they almost immediately, and quite painfully, jabbed into his arm.
Not for the first time in his life, Connor welcomed the peace of unconsciousness; at least he was spared from wondering exactly what they had planned for he and Abby while they slept.
~~~E~~~
The first sensation of which he was aware was the chill working through his body, a stiff ache in his bones as he stretched against the hard floor, momentary confusion clouding his perception of his surroundings. It didn't take long, however, before the memories of the night previous came flooding back, punching through the cloud of sedative like ice water over a hot pan, his confusion hissing into the dark cavern much like the gasp across his lips.
They'd taken his clothing, replacing the flannel pants he'd been wearing when they'd come for him in the night with grey sweat pants, adding a grey t-shirt and grey over shirt to his body, offering him some measure of resistance to the unnaturally damp chill in the cavern he'd been placed.
"Abby?"
His voice was rough and cracked, his throat dry from sedation and hours of silence.
"God, Abby!"
He'd spotted her in a corner, curled up against the wall, unmoving. He forced his legs under him, dragging himself to his knees, crossing the hard dirt and rock covered floor until he was next to her. He was gentle as he rolled her against him, bracing her head as he curled her into his arms, his lips pressed to her forehead as he watched for her chest to rise in silent breath. A half hour passed before a tiny groan escaped her lips, the palm of his hand instantly finding her cheek to rest against while he waited for those beautiful blue eyes to open and meet his dark gaze.
"Connor?" She frowned, her tongue darting out in an attempt to moisten her dry mouth and lips, her frown deepening as she realized the effort was useless. "Why do I feel like I've eaten a bag of cotton wool balls?"
"We forgot to do a shop," he forced a small grin to his lips, helping her as she sat up. "'S all we had. I offered to toast 'em, but you insisted they were better raw."
She looked around, taking note of the dank cavern they'd awoken within. "We're in a cave, again."
He nodded, following her eyes as they studied the dark room. "Yup. Not half as posh as the one we had just after Danny'd left tho, don't you think?"
"Connor, be serious, yeah?"
He shrugged. "Thought I was being. This one's got a creek running through it. No proper cavern'd have running water, it's a disgrace. I'll have to take it up with our captors first chance I have."
"Oh, water!"
As predicted, she was out of his arms in an instant, burning through the remainder of the sedative in her veins as she moved towards the sounds of the bubbling creek that ran against the back of the cave, appearing out of one wall and disappearing into the next. Some small mercies couldn't be under appreciated. The cool liquid was like the brush of an angel's wings as it slid down their parched throats, washing away the notion that they'd spent the previous twelve hours chewing on last weeks shorts.
When they'd satisfied their thirst, they followed the small creek to the wall, noting the small passage carved into the rock to allow the continuous flow of water. Man made, obviously. They switched direction to move to the mouth of the cavern, the light pouring through the opening florescent and unnatural, a fact confirmed by the small jolt of electricity that ran through Connor's fingers as he reached out to touch what should have been an exit but rather became another hand built extension of what nature would have once offered.
"You reckon they built this with us in mind? Y'know, never actually took us out of the building?"
She shrugged, sighing as she moved to the back of the cavern and sat on the pile of straw they'd been allocated. "Means we're still somewhere in London, then, doesn't it?"
He nodded, his chocolate brown eyes shining brightly as he explored further, fingers running over every surface to ensure his theory was correct. "Yep, 'n if we're still in London, then that means Becker 'n his men have a good chance of finding us, don't they?"
Abby sighed, turning her eyes downward as her heart fluttered painfully in her chest. A year ago, when they were trapped far from the reach of anyone they knew, it had been Connor that kept insisting they'd be found, or they'd get home; Abby'd always just managed to get on with the day. Connor had hope when Abby had resignation. Connor had determination when Abby just wanted to survive. He'd changed and grown in the time they'd been gone, become the man she'd suspected lived behind the genius everyone recognized, while she just carried on. Perhaps she'd changed as well, become a little quieter, lost that part of her that thrilled in the chase, the part of her that always stood out, but there was nothing that could be done. Everyone changes, and she certainly wasn't the little girl that spent their first night away from home in a tree, lifting Connor's spirits, and this certainly wasn't the open, if life threatening vastness of the Cretaceous. In fact, looking around, Abby's heart sank further than it had those first weeks spent waiting, hoping for rescue.
"Sure, Conn. They've never given up on us before, yeah?"
"Yeah."
This was so much worse.
~~~E~~~
Compared to their first week in the Cretaceous, the first week in the cavern was relatively easy. Twice a day a small sampling of boiled oats and bread was raised from a platform close to the false entrance; it wasn't much, but given they'd once survived on nothing more than berries and raw roots, they weren't the sort to complain. Every third day, fresh clothing was provided with their breakfast and their soiled clothing was removed on the same platform with their dishes.
The first day they'd spent separating areas of their cavern for necessities. Being as that the flow of water was continuous, they chose the area closest to the exiting wall to use as a toilet. There wasn't much available to offer privacy, but with creativity and the few loose rocks available to them, they'd sectioned off the area to at least provide a small bit of cover. Bathing was a bit easier; they'd long since absolved themselves of any need to hide their bodies from the other, so the center of the creek bed was chosen as a bathing area, and on the second morning of clothing changes, they kept the old t-shirts to use as cloth for washing the ever present grime from their skin. Since the offerings for both breakfast and dinner did not provide water, they kept the area closest to the incoming flow of water for drinking; the first morning's plastic bowls were kept and used to collect the water as it poured from the wall, the consistency of the flow the first bit of relief they'd felt since waking in captivity.
The second day, they conditioned themselves to the routine provided. Wake with the bell signifying breakfast, eat quickly what was offered, return the dishes to the platform, clean their bodies, pace the cavern looking for weakness. Connor found a great interest in the false entrance to the cavern, an electrical field that provided light but not heat.
"There's bound to be a power source somewhere nearby," he'd muttered on the third day, his fingers running over the rock surrounding the electrical field as close as he dared get to the active current. "And everything else, the air flow, the water flow... something has to be powering this place, or we'd have died from asphyxiation already."
She said nothing as he climbed rocks, sticking fingers into crevices, poking at any anomaly he found in the face of the walls surrounding them. At first, she wondered if they were being watched, but as Connor grew bolder, bouncing stones off the field of light, and then one morning the dishes left over from their breakfast, watching as the patterns of light shifted to compensate for the charge from repelling the objects, she decided that they truly had been left alone. Only when Connor slipped both their metal spoons from the platform before the dishes were returned was she absolutely positive. No one cared what they did, because there was no way to escape from the cage in which they'd been placed.
He was quiet the next few days, studying the field from across the cavern, watching as it hummed and pulsed as the hours wore on, using one spoon to count hours in the dirt floor, marking any changes he saw in the field pattern for future reference. When he approached the field the next day, counting under his breath, she thought nothing of it, for a moment. When she saw the second spoon in his hand as he got closer, her heart stalled in her chest and his name died on her lips. Abby hadn't even the time to blink before the cavern went suddenly bright, then black, and Connor was shot across the open space, landing at her feet with a thud and a puff of smoke.
Later, she'd not be able to tell you the curse that tumbled past her lips, or recall the seconds it took to get to his side, rolling him to his back, tears forming rapidly as it became clear that Connor was no longer breathing. She would vaguely remember tipping his head back and sealing her lips to his, breathing oxygen into his lungs while he was unable. She'd remember how frantically she compressed his chest, her hands over his heart, forcing it to beat while his eyes remained closed. She wouldn't remember how many times she had to breathe for him, had to force his heart to beat for him, she wouldn't remember how long she had to live for him, but the one thing she remembered clearly and would for years was the smell of burnt hair and burnt flesh, forcing the small amount of bread she'd consumed this morning to twist and roll in her uncertain stomach.
Of course, she'd also remember the cold chill that ran down her spine in a wave of relief when his dark eyes opened, focussing on her immediately, and his body came to life with a cough. He lifted a hand to his head, partially from the onset of a sudden migraine, partly to shield himself from the sudden ice in the blue gaze he loved more than any other.
"Right. That was stupid." He offered her a crooked grin as he groaned and pulled himself upright, setting his back to the wall of the cavern, breathing deeply as he took stock of the damage he'd taken.
He wasn't prepared for the moment her hand connected with his cheek, knocking him back, bouncing his head off the wall behind him. He stared at her, jaw agape, for a full five seconds, the sudden flare of uncontrolled rage in her eyes fluttering and fading as her own expression turned to mirror his surprise.
"Shit, Conn, 'm sorry."
"S'alright, love, I deserved it, didn't I?"
"Yeah, but I'm still sorry."
She sat down next to him and the both of them watched the entrance of the cavern as the field hummed and sparked and shot back to life.
"Did you see anything behind it when it turned off?" Connor asked quietly.
She shook her head silently, leaning to rest against his shoulder. "Didn't look much," she admitted, "But it seemed to be solid rock behind."
"Makes sense," he pondered. "Don't much fancy repeating today's stunt to be sure, though. Maybe tomorrow we'll have a look at the air ducts, yeah?"
"Yeah," she whispered.
Abby had already come to the conclusion that whatever this place was, it was built to contain them and the odds of finding a flaw were few and far between. Connor'd figure it out quickly enough, however; she wasn't going to be the one to bring it to his attention when, like always, he still held on to whatever small bit of hope he could find.
~~~TBC~~~
In the Next Part:
There would be no escape. There would be no rescue. Becker and his men would not come flying through whatever entrance there was to the cavern and set them free. When Connor looked up at Abby that day, his chocolate brown eyes dull and filled with sorrow, she knew he understood what she'd known since the moment she'd opened her eyes. This was their home now, and would be until their captors saw fit to release them or their term in prison ended.
Coming Soon!