The first thing he heard were voices.

"...almost a day now...not like him."

"He needs…lost a lot of blood…wake up when he's ready. Just give him time."

They were getting clearer. Louder.

"I know. Just never seen him like this is all, all laid up and out cold. And before…" The first voice, the one that sounded the clearest of the pair, caught towards the end. Hitched. There was a pause, a silence, too thick and too heavy. Too long.

He drifted.

"…he asleep?"

"Has been…hasn't left all day. Barely got him to shower."

"Poor thing."

"He'll be alright."

"And Becker?"

His name. They…she was asking about him. He knew her voice. Jess…no. Abby? Abby. And the man…Matt. Abby and Matt.

Abby, get his gun.

With a start, Becker's hand went for his side. His heart leapt into his chest, and he opened his eyes, only to shut them at the near-blinding light that hit them. He recoiled, one hand going to shield his face while the other felt around, but there was nothing there. No primary sidearm, no secondary, no knife. Not even the bloody taser he kept. None of it was there, because it was all in his belt and his trousers and his tac vest, and they were all...not there. Gone. Taken.

"Easy, mate," he heard Matt say over the thundering of his heart in his ears and this infernal beeping he'd only just noticed and now wished he hadn't. There had been something beside him, too, something weighing down whatever surface he was lying on near his shoulder, but it was gone, too. Everything was moving, and bloody hell, Becker felt like he was going to retch. He'd never been motion sick before, but he wagered this was what it would feel like. A steadying hand found his shoulder, holding firm even when he flinched. "Just take it easy, Becker. You're back at ARC, in the infirmary. You're safe."

And as Becker managed to peel his eyes open again and they started to adjust to the harsh light of the room, he saw that Matt was telling the truth. He knew every inch of that building, from floor to ceiling. And the white panels and fluorescent lights he was staring up at were definitely those of the infirmary.

He'd no sooner come to the conclusion, though, then they were gone. At first, he couldn't see what'd taken their place. It went from too bright to too dark in a matter of seconds, and he had to squint to try to see properly. But when he did, it was worth it.

"Connor." The word barely sounded at all. His voice was hoarse, his mouth was dry, and it felt like he'd drunk a pub the night before, right down to the foul taste in his mouth. How Connor could stand to hover so close was beyond him.

Then Connor smiled, though, and he didn't bloody care what his breath smelled like, because it was the kind of smile that split his face in two and showed off his teeth and his dimples, and his eyes nearly disappeared behind his cheeks. Nearly. Becker could still see the moisture welling in them, then spilling over, then rolling down his clearly recently-shaven cheeks. "Morning, sunshine," he said, voice all full of trembles from the tears.

Becker was still a bit fuzzy. He suspected it had something to do with the IV he saw taped in the back of his hand when he lifted it from the bed, but he couldn't be arsed to dwell on it. Instead, he brought his hand to Connor's cheek, a bit clumsily, and wiped his thumb across the first track of tears. He didn't really remember yet what had happened, what was happening, but he knew whatever Connor was crying about, it probably wasn't worth crying over. Not if it had to do with him. "Stop crying." He was aiming for firm, but fell short and was happy to settle somewhere in the neighbourhood of fond and maybe a touch pleading. He hated to see Connor cry. Hated it.

Somewhere behind Connor, off to Becker's left, he heard Abby say, "He's definitely back." Matt laughed, and Becker was taking in a breath to inform the lot of them that he didn't remember going anywhere in the first place, so could they stop acting like he'd just come back from war or something. He'd done that once already, thanks, and the experience didn't need repeating.

Only, he never got around to saying it, because he hadn't even finished taking in the breath when a pair of arms threw themselves around him, and suddenly Connor had him in a vice grip. Small as he was, the Cretaceous had put some muscle on him, and he'd kept it. Becker tried to sit up a bit, make the position less awkward, but his entire body seemed to decide that was an opportune time to remind him that it bloody hurt.

He grunted behind gritted teeth. "Connor, my—"

He hadn't even gotten the whole sentence out when Connor was letting him go, and Becker frowned. He hadn't planned on telling him to let go, just to maybe lighten up a bit, or at least let him sit the damn bed up first, but Connor had, as always, gone the extra step and actually started to take a step back.

Where the hell does he think he's going? Not very far, wherever it was, if Becker had anything to say about it. He caught the front of Connor's shirt in his IV-less hand and held fast. It wasn't much, but it was enough to tell Connor he was fine right where he was, so stop moving thanks. Meanwhile, Becker tried to remember how to breathe properly whilst all his muscles simultaneously seized up in protest.

"Ye'll want to stay still a bit," Matt said helpfully from just behind Connor's left shoulder. "Two days without moving on top of what ye've been through the last few days—"

"Two days?" Becker gaped. He'd been asleep two days? How the hell had that been allowed to happen? Now he had to get up, if only to prove to himself he still could. Two ruddy days...

Unfortunately, he couldn't even make it all of two inches before what felt like a dagger stabbed into his leg. He swore.

"—is bound to make ye a bit sore," Matt finished, deadpan.

Becker shot him a look, but stubbornly refused to stop until he'd done what he meant to do. It was his leg that was the problem. A baryonyx, the library...it was coming back to him. Slowly, but it was coming back to him. So with his leg out of commission, he braced his arms on the infirmary bed and pushed himself up that way. It still hurt. He had bruises and cuts here and there, and his arms were hellishly sore for some reason, especially 'round the shoulders, but he managed, and Connor already had the pillows moved and the back of the bed raised so that when he was satisfied, he could lean back, and he was more or less sitting up.

Thank God for that. And for him. Thank God for Connor Temple.

"Think you could drink something?" asked said scientist. He asked it like it was a genuine question. Like Becker might very well be unable to manage even a sip of water. And even through the smile, Becker could see now a lingering hint of worry clouding his eyes.

"Connor." Becker waited until Connor actually made eye contact to continue, saying simply, firmly, deliberately, "I'm fine."

"Yeah, well, we've all heard that before."

As Connor, Matt, and Abby all three exchanged looks, Becker got the sudden feeling he'd been left out of the loop. He didn't like that feeling. His brows furrowed.

"What?" he said, and when they did another look round between them, he got impatient. "What?"

It was Abby that chimed in first. "You really don't remember any of it, do you?"

"Clearly, I don't, seeing as I've got no idea what the three of you are on about. So?"

"So what?" Connor asked.

"So," Becker said, "are you going to tell me what happened, or just keep looking at each other like there's a joke between you I'm not invited to hear?" He was getting irritated. Maybe it was the pounding in his head, worse since he'd woken up and getting heavier by the second, or the overall ache in his body, or the throbbing pain in his leg. Or maybe it was the fact that he'd been asleep for two days apparently, and still felt like he could sleep for two more. Or maybe it was the fact that something had happened. He'd done something, it felt like, something that made Connor worry and Matt shift on his feet like he was guilty of something and Abby look at him like one of her little pets, like he was fragile and dangerous all at the same time. "Damn it, would someone just tell me what's going on?" he snapped.

Connor flinched, and just like that, Becker was the guilty one. As if he hadn't felt shit enough to begin with, now he was yelling at people he cared about and pitching a right fit for what might've been no good reason.

He took as deep a breath as he could, and forced himself to raise his eyes when Matt put a hand on his shoulder again. "Later, mate," he told him. "Once you've had some rest, maybe something to eat." It wasn't patronizing, mercifully; Becker didn't think he could've stood it if it had been. No, it was just...relieved, more than anything. A friend to a friend, for all appearances just glad the other had come round.

It settled Becker, a bit. That, and Connor's hand on his, a softer version of that smile from before on his face. Yeah, alright. It wasn't as if the past was going anywhere. At least hopefully not for a day or two.

He just needed a few bases covered. "I didn't kill anybody," he hazarded.

"Do a desk chair and a set of blinds count?" Abby asked.

"How nice was the desk chair?"

Abby shrugged. "Not very."

"Then no." One down, two to go. "I didn't make an arse of myself, did I?"

It was Matt's turn, apparently, and he pursed his lips thoughtfully for one pulse-pounding moment before saying, "No more than usual, I'd say."

Becker actually snorted at that, rolling his eyes. "Hilarious."

"I try."

"Try harder. Or less," Becker said. One more, then. Just the one. It was the one he was sort of afraid to ask. "I didn't...hurt anyone, did I? Any of you?" Because he figured, there was a reason Abby looked at him the way she did. It wasn't quite like she was afraid of him. He knew what that looked like, and that wasn't it. But then, these people didn't do fear the same way most did, so it wasn't as much comfort as he would've liked. "I want to know."

Of the three questions he asked, that was the one that seemed to get them the most. They exchanged looks again. Bloody hell, but Becker was tired of seeing them do that. And he wasn't sure if they held some sort of silent election, but both Matt and Abby almost physically stepped back when Connor started to answer.

"No," he said. "You didn't hurt any of us."

"But?" Becker could hear a but there.

Connor bit his lip, like he wasn't sure he wanted to say what he was going to say. In the end, though, "You had us scared for a minute there."

"Of me?"

"For you," Connor said quickly, but then admitted, "And of you. A bit. Just for a moment, there."

Somehow, that dagger that'd been in his leg before had found its way into Becker's chest. He felt heavier. He cleared his throat. "Right. Well, I'm sorry for...whatever it was I did."

"Becker—" Matt started, but Becker cut him off.

"And I hope you know I would never harm any of you deliberately."

"We know that, Becker," Abby said. "But it wasn't—"

"And in the future, if you ever feel threatened by me—"

"Oh for fuck's sake." And before Becker could finish saying what he was, Connor's lips were on his. It was short, chaste, and his nose nearly took Becker's eye out – his fault, sort of; he forgot to go left – but he supposed it had the desired effect, because when Connor leaned back, all Becker could do was stare at him. "And you say we don't listen. Bloody hell." He shook his head in disbelief. "We were tryin' to tell you that you didn't do anything wrong, mate. Yeah, you were waving that gun round a bit tetchy there, but it wasn't as if you ever actually aimed it at any of us. When I say you had us scared, it wasn't us we were scared you were goin' to hurt, you big idiot. It was you. We thought you were gonna kill yourself, going on like you were. You were like a bloody machine – literally. You had blood running off your leg and you wouldn't even have a lie down. It was sort of mad, to tell you the truth. But we weren't threatened by you. Why would we've been? You were tryin' to protect us."

Oh. Well that...cleared things up a bit. He could sort of see it, now. Sort of remember. It was too hazy; it felt more like a dream than something he'd actually done. But he remembered feeling like there was something watching them. Catching glimpses of it. Feeling hunted, chased, and thinking...thinking he was the only one that saw it.

He wet his lips. He could taste Connor's lip balm on them, still. When he closed his eyes, he could almost see it there. A shadow on the wall. The curve of claws. The snap of its jaw. He could remember the desperation, the need to protect Matt and Connor and Abby from something they didn't even know was after them. He remembered—

"Oi, earth to Action Man." Connor was waving a hand in front of his face, and he blinked a few times to clear his head before batting it away. Connor took it with a smile, though. "So, hows about that water, aye?"

"We've actually got to be going now," Abby said. And if she thought Becker would miss the little nudge she gave Matt's leg with the toe of her trainer, she was giving the drugs more credit than they deserved. "I've got the menagerie, and Matt's got..."

Matt, luckily for all involved, took the hint. "I've got a few tests I want to run on some new equipment."

Vague is good, Becker thought. Best not to volunteer too many details when he was lying through his teeth. Clearly, they were just backing off to give them some space. And while Becker appreciated the thought, the execution could've used work.

"So we'll see you two later then, yeah?" Abby said.

And Becker decided, what the hell, and went with it. "Yeah. Tell Rex I said hi." As if he wasn't just a couple of floors up and a wing down. It was still a bit strange, being in an infirmary instead of a hospital. But it was fully equipped, and didn't come with the added awkward challenge of explaining a seventy millimetre tooth mark. Prescriptions were easier to fill, too.

"Will do." Slipping past Connor, Abby leaned in to give him a quick peck on the brow before flitting out.

Matt was next in line, clasping Becker's free hand firmly without jarring the IV line. "Take care, mate," he said, then turned to Connor. "Keep the good soldier in line for us, aye?"

"Aye," Connor agreed. He bumped shoulders with Matt, too, and then the eldest member of their team was gone, and it was just the two of them. At least, it felt that way. There were only three actual rooms in the infirmary, and Becker knew if he looked right outside the door, there would be a full staff of medics on hand. But just for now, he was content in the illusion of privacy.

He slumped back against the bed, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He didn't even have it in him to flinch when Connor's cool fingers brushed through his hair. But then, that might've been because he was so used to it, and it just felt so damn good.

"Tired, mate?"

"Exhausted," Becker admitted. Through the slits of his eyes still open, he saw Connor smile.

"You should get some sleep then."

"From what I've gathered, so should you." He'd figured it out, now. The weight he'd felt by his shoulder, what Matt and Abby had been saying. "You haven't left, have you?" That had been Connor, sleeping on his bed. Probably slumped over, head on the part of Becker's pillow he wasn't using.

Connor actually blushed, from his nose to the very tips of his ears. "I've been around."

Becker just rolled his eyes.

"Oi, I was worried!" he protested indignantly.

"I know you were." He wanted to tell him he needn't have been, but he knew if the positions had been reversed, he would've done the same, so he couldn't really talk. So, he didn't try. Instead, he moved, pushing himself up again so he could shift over to the right on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Connor asked. He had his hands up like he was going to try to stop Becker, but had thought better of it. They lingered, though, like he hadn't quite made up his mind to let Becker do what he wanted. Probably smart. Becker still felt a bit lightheaded and not himself.

He managed, though, getting far enough over to the side of the cramped little bed that there was a nice little Connor-sized hole for him to pat beside him. "Come on," he said.

Connor stared a minute. "Really?"

"Is there a problem?"

"No," Connor said quickly. "It's just...do you think we'll fit?"

"I think we'll manage." And that seemed to be good enough for Connor, because after pausing long enough to kick off his shoes and shrug out of his jacket, he lifted up the covers and slid in beside him.

"Sorry," he said more than once as the movement jostled his leg. He did chance a glance down at it, and Connor must've seen him looking, because he saw fit to explain.

"They're draining it."

Becker assumed that was what the tube was for, running out from under the bandage wrapped around his thigh. They had that part of his leg uncovered, and raised up on a pillow, and besides a paper-thin gown that crinkled when he moved, he suspected he was naked underneath all the blankets.

He didn't even have the energy to care.

"You alright?" Connor asked once they'd gotten settled. Becker was still on his back, head propped up on the pillows just like he'd been before. But now, he had Connor lying in the crook of his arm, legs stretched out beside his and head pillowed on his shoulder. It was more comfortable than Becker had been the entire time since he'd woken up.

A small smile pulled at his chapped lips, and he turned his head to press a kiss to the top of Connor's hair. He smelled like Becker's shampoo. Probably the first bottle he grabbed, but Becker let himself entertain all other sorts of notions as to why it was. He'd earned it.

"Yes, Connor," he said mildly, and let his eyes slide closed again. "I'm fine."

And he didn't know about all the other times Connor and the others were on about, but this time, he really meant it.