He wasn't speaking to them.
That was the worst thing. The bruises, cuts, and burns were horrific, yes, but those would fade, would eventually disappear. What was worse were the injuries they couldn't see.
After they'd found Connor beaten within an inch of his life in the cellar of a condemned house, clutching Imzadi like she was the only thing tying him to the earth, it'd taken them only a few seconds to realise just how wrong it was. A medic had come to look him over, and he'd screamed in a raw, broken voice, "Don't touch us!" They had to sedate him before they were able to even get close enough to examine his injuries. He'd been given a week's leave and was only allowed back in the ARC on the condition he wouldn't be out in the field until Ditzy or Palmer cleared him. And in all that time, he'd hardly said more than a hundred words.
Connor sat in front of the ADD, once more dressed in the multitude of thick, bulky layers that he'd worn at the beginning of the project, including the adorned duffle coat that could wrap around him twice. Imzadi was hidden from view, burrowed down inside his clothes; all that could really be seen of her was the length of black-and-white ringed tail protruding from the bottom of his shirts. He had his hood up and his legs pulled up, heels on the edge of the chair, arms wrapped tightly around himself. He would sit there for hours, hardly moving at all. He wouldn't speak unless asked a direct question and then pressed for an answer, and they were all feeling the impact. Danny, Becker, and Sarah hadn't been on the team very long, but they knew without a doubt that this wasn't normal. For Jenny, Abby, and Lester, though, it was downright terrifying.
"I haven't seen all of Imzadi since he got home," Abby confessed miserably, head on the tabletop, stroking Aegis's ridged, spiny back with one fingertip. "He won't even come out the loo after a shower unless he's got on that thick bathrobe of his. It's 33 degrees in our flat, and he's dressed up like an Eskimo."
"I've noticed that too. He doesn't always wear that stuff?" Danny queried, jerking a thumb in the direction of the atrium where Connor sat in front of the ADD. The rest of them had somehow coalesced in Abby's flower lab, surrounded by her prehistoric garden.
Abby and Jenny both shook their heads. "Not since I've started working here," Jenny murmured, sitting in a chair with Zurial curled into a mass of white fur in her lap.
"I don't think I've seen him wear that jacket in a year," Abby added. He had started losing some of the heavier outer layers once they were officially on the anomaly team; it restricted his movement and made running for his life difficult. "Last night, I asked him if he wanted me to record the new Doctor Who episodes for him. He said he didn't care. He's been waiting for weeks to see the premiere."
"Temple turned down Doctor Who? Now it's serious," Becker said, but there was no teasing or sarcasm in his voice. He reached down with one hand to scratch behind Ridley's ears, his dæmon leaning up against his legs comfortingly. Guilt knotted in both their chests, burning just below their breastbones. It was their job to protect the team, and they'd failed.
"But...I mean, what can we do?" Sarah asked. "It's not like he's been forthcoming to anyone about what happened. Hell, he has to be tranquilised just so Palmer can look him over, and getting him to even answer a simple question is like pulling teeth."
"I dunno," Abby replied as she sat up, moving Aegis to her shoulder. "But we have to do something. This isn't healthy. Whatever's wrong with him, keeping shut up about it isn't helping him."
Danny stepped in her path, reaching out one long arm to block the door. "Whoa, now, hang about. I've dealt with victims before when I was a copper, Abby. You can't come at him head-on and start demanding he spill his guts. That won't work, and he'll just shut himself off more," he informed her. He'd learnt a few things about psychology back then. Nearly every copper did in some form another, learning how to read into people's heads so they could push the right buttons, tweak the right nerves. He could tell that whatever was wrong with Connor right now, it wasn't something that he could be pushed at. He was too skittish, too afraid. It'd take gentle coaxing and comfort to bring him out of his shell now. "You've got to go easy on him. I dunno what that evil bitch did to him, but you've got to be gentle. She's hurt him enough."
Abby sighed, then nodded. "Yeah, alright." She looked out the windows of her lab towards the atrium. She could just see Connor from this angle. He'd skipped shaving again, and his scruff was almost thick enough to be called a beard, his hair hanging limp and tangled around his shoulders. All she could see of his dæmon was the end of her stripy tail, poking out from beneath the hem of his coat, curled around his wrist.
She felt the tiny prickling as Aegis crawled up her neck to settle atop her hair, small feet pressing into her scalp. "What are we going to do about him?" he sighed softly, snuggling himself further into her hair.
"I haven't the foggiest, but we'll figure it out," she answered. And they would.
They'd fix their geek. Somehow.