Abby rolls over in bed. She keeps her eyes shut and ignores the faint whispers coming from outside her room. She stretches and winces as pain shoots through her arm from a muscle injury that hasn't quite healed yet. When she opens her eyes she sees Connor sitting in a chair across the room. She smiles. She sees him less and less lately. Abby sits up and presses one hand on her bicep where it hurts the most and flexes her hand.
Connor doesn't say anything. He never really talks to her anymore. She can't even remember the last time she heard his voice.
"Good thing they rescued us when they did," she says as she gently massages her bicep. "I don't know how I would've survived a day longer with only you keeping me company." When she glances back in Connor's direction he looks hurt..
"I'm just kidding," she says, but his expression doesn't change. Abby can't stand it. She knows that she should consider herself lucky to have lived to tell the tale of being trapped in the Cretaceous Period. She should be proud that she once again survived what this life (and this job) threw at her. Instead she feels guilty. She can't help but blame herself. She knows Connor blames her too by the look he's giving her. She's desperate to fix things but she doesn't know if or how she can.
She can't look at him anymore. She flops back into bed, closes her eyes, pulls the covers over her head and inhales deeply. It doesn't help. In fact it makes things worse. When she closes her eyes, she can feel the rough bark of the tree branch she perched on safely out of harm's way. She hears the screech of the Velociraptors; smells the metallic odor of blood; the pungent stench of innards as they are violently torn out. She sees the grass turn blood red. Abby jolts upright as she hears Connor's scream that has echoed in her head ever since.
Abby opens her eyes, pushes the covers away and pulls her feet up to her chest. She wraps her hands around her knees and takes a deep breath. Connor moves closer to her. Abby feels the gentle kiss he places on her forehead. It causes Abby to pull her knees closer, shut her eyes again, to fight to erase the memory.
She doesn't feel the bed dip but knows that Connor is sitting next to her. She can feel him wrap her arms around her, feel his lips against her cheek. She sighs softly.
Her brother, Jack bounces into her room and Abby can feel Connor leave. She can smell bacon. "Breakfast?" Jack asks. She tries to compose herself. Abby has never been (and never will be) able to talk to Jack, or anyone for that matter, about what happened while she was away. But Jack knows enough to know why Abby hasn't quite been the same since she came back from her yearlong 'business trip.' He never pressures Abby to get out of bed and today's no different. She stares at the bedroom door.
I can do this, she thinks.
She takes a deep breath.
She looks down at her feet which refuse to move and groans.
She can't do this.
She leans back against the headboard defeated.
She hasn't left this room since she got back. After all the nightmares where she would relive watching Connor die, watching him being torn apart, hearing him scream, she felt as though her legs would never be able to hold her up again.
"Abby?" Jack says cautiously. "Breakfast?" he repeats. Abby nods and Jack disappears out of the room just as quickly as he came, closing the door behind him.
"Connor?" Abby tries. There's no response. When Abby looks around the room, she can't see him anymore.
"Connor," she looks down at her hands on her lap, "I miss you."