Disclaimer: Primeval does not belong to me, this is fan fiction, not for profit.
Any references to people, places, businesses etc is entirely fictitious.
1.1 We Need To Talk
Connor came home to the flat after his last lecture. He was tired, it had been a long day and he was moving on autopilot. It was quiet when he opened the door. At first he thought that was a good sign. But when he started to set his laptop on the hall table and it wasn't there, he realized that maybe quiet wasn't a good thing.
The furniture was gone. All of it. No comfy old couch, no telly, and no table. None of his video games were there either. We've been robbed… maybe… he halfway hoped. She'd be angry again, but surely there wasn't any way this could be his fault. Right?
As he moved further into the flat though, he saw the broken dishes and broken picture frames. Robbers might drop something and break it, but this… He stood still, surveying the damage. He bent over and carefully picked up the picture at his feet. Shattered glass fell to the floor. The grinning faces of his friends, Tom and Duncan, along with his own face, stared back at him. Holding the picture, he stepped into the bedroom.
If anything, it was worse.
By this time, he was expecting the room to be devoid of furnishings. No bed, no dresser, no bookcase, no night stand and no lamp. What he didn't expect to see were the pages of his books ripped from their covers, scattered like oversize pieces of confetti across the floor. Her clothes were gone. His clothes still hung in the closet, sort of. The shirts and pants looked like some sort of predator had clawed it… and maybe it had.
He shivered.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
The cell phone startled him with the theme song to Battlestar Galactica. Tom, he thought.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
Duncan was looking at Tom with big round eyes. "Well," he mouthed quietly "is it safe to come over with pizza now?"
Tom rolled his eyes in exasperation. "He hasn't answered yet," he replied, "how am I supposed to say?"
"If he's not answering, do you think that means they're rowing again?"
Tom smirked, "Either that or… making up". Duncan's eyes got even bigger.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
The cell phone alarm woke him at six. He was cold and stiff from sleeping on the floor. The shock had worn off some, and his brain was starting to work. A good hot shower, he decided, that's what he needed. He went into the bathroom and realized there weren't any towels.
The refrigerator was empty too. By this time, he was expecting it, but really? What on earth had he done to deserve this?
He ran into Tom and Duncan in the caff… they teased him about looking like he'd slept in his clothes. In between bites of muffin and sips of tea, he told them. He had.
-x-x-x-x-x-x
After classes, he headed back to the flat. The rent was paid up to the end of the semester thankfully, and he could eat in the cafeteria… use the printer in the library for his reports. He'd manage.
As he rounded the street corner he saw Tom and Duncan sitting on the steps to the flat. Tom had a broom. Duncan had pizza.
The cleaning went quickly. Soon the debris of his latest relationship was in the rubbish bin.
"Well mate," said Tom, "I think we've done a right good job here. Cleaned up that mess she made… any idea what set her off this time?
A mouthful of pepperoni pizza forestalled any immediate words, so he just raised his hands palm up and flat in a universal gesture. He swallowed.
"What did she say when you saw her last," asked Duncan curiously.
"We need to talk," said Connor.
-x-x-x-x-x-x