Is it too late to save Matt? And just what is this illness? As always, comments are appreciated :)

It wasn't the first time Abby had seen Connor like this and she was certain it wouldn't be the last, but there was something odd about his behaviour on this particular occasion that concerned her.

When he was lost in a thought or a new theory, he had a habit of switching out everything else. Sometimes he'd be sat there for over an hour, completely oblivious to what was happening around him. He did his best thinking in this state and she knew to just leave him to it because he generally snapped out of it and would be full of enthusiasm. Often he would end up surrounded by sheets of paper with random drawings or equations on; small glimpses of what was going on inside his head.

He'd been like this for over two hours now though, and Abby was worried. She'd asked him three times if he wanted a sandwich or a coffee and he'd not even registered that she was there. She also noted that there were no scribblings or notes around him. Something was wrong.

"Earth calling Connor!" she said loudly, shaking his shoulder. Finally he looked up and acknowledged her. "Are you OK?"

"Sorry. I was just thinking about Matt."

"Me too. Poor guy. I can't imagine what he's going through right now. It must be like being told you've got Cancer or something." Abby sat on the chair opposite Connor and took his hand in hers. He was still thinking. "At least he has more warning than those others that died. Once we've got some medical notes to look at, maybe the doctors will be able to find a cure or at least something that will delay the illness to give them more time to work it out."

"They're wasting their time," Connor said. "This isn't a medical problem." Abby looked at him confused. Matt was ill and those others had died from some kind of flu; it was a medical issue. Connor was shaking his head and Abby stroked his cheek.

"So what do you think it is then?" she asked softly, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"You'll think I'm crazy."

"No more so than usual," Abby laughed. Connor looked away and she recognised the look in his eyes. He was blinking rapidly and his nose was wrinkling, a sign that he was trying not to cry. "Try me," she said, placing her hand on his cheek again and making him look at her.

He sighed. "First rule of time travel. Don't interfere with the past. Even a small change can have huge consequences."

"I know that. Cutter drummed that into us constantly. That's why he always insisted we tried to get the creatures back through the anomalies without harming them."

"There've been times when I've been tempted to go and change things." Connor looked down as if he was ashamed of what he was about to say. Abby sat back. This was news to her. He'd never mentioned this before. "When we saw those devices that Helen had that allowed you to open an anomaly at will... when I finally worked out how to create an anomaly myself... I wanted to go back to that day Helen killed the Professor and warn him."

Abby closed her eyes. There were times when she'd wondered if that was possible, especially recently. The Professor had been almost like a father to her and Connor and she would have given anything to have him at their wedding. The urge must have been even stronger for Connor since he'd been very close to Cutter.

"I was stopped from doing it when I started to think about how different life would be if Cutter was still with us. We might not have been stranded in the Cretaceous for all of that time and we'd probably still be pretending we don't fancy each other and making each other miserable." He managed a smile and Abby leaned over the table to kiss his cheek.

"What's this got to do with Matt's illness though?"

"Lester said that woman had been rambling about knowing the consequences but realising that not doing something was far worse. What if she wasn't rambling? Matt and his friends, they came here with the intention of changing their past to save millions of lives; the loss of twenty lives in the process was insignificant."

"Matt broke the first rule of time travel?" Abby said. Connor nodded.

"I think by changing their past, they've changed the circumstances of their births. Maybe their parents don't meet now and they're being wiped from existence." It made perfect sense to Connor since he'd been thinking it through for the last two hours, but Abby was still confused. "Do you remember when we watched 'Back to the Future' the other week? Michael J Fox went back in time and interfered with his parents' first meeting. His brother and sister were disappearing from the photo and then his hand was disappearing whilst he was on stage until his parents finally kissed and..."

"But those others died, Connor. They didn't just disappear."

"I know. I just think…" Connor banged his hand on the table in frustration. He wasn't sure what to think. Maybe it was just some disease from the future that had killed those others, and given enough time a cure would be found. Abby moved around towards him and allowed him to bury his head against her chest.

"Maybe things will seem a bit clearer in the morning. Becker should have the first of the notes on the other victims tomorrow, and Tom will have done some tests on Matt. Perhaps we should leave it to the doctors eh?"

Connor pulled away and stared at Abby. "Matt's our friend, and he saved my life on the other side of that anomaly. I can't just sit back and wait! We have to help him, Abby. I just don't know how."

Abby held Connor as tight as she could. They'd lost close friends before, but this was different and it seemed considerably worse. Whilst Cutter and Stephen's deaths had been sudden, they were going to have to watch Matt slowly slip away from them and it felt like there wasn't a thing they could do about it.

-o-

Matt groaned as Dr Tom Reardon asked him to roll on to his side. He was beginning to feel like a pin cushion from all of the injections and blood tests he'd had over the last 12 hours. Tom was now doing a lumber puncture to take samples of fluid from around the spinal cord.

"Are all of these tests necessary?" Matt asked. "You must've taken several pints of blood from me already."

"Given how rapidly those other patients deteriorated, I want to check at regular intervals. The slightest change could be significant in getting a proper diagnosis. I know this is a bit uncomfortable, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. Just not used to being ill, that's all." Matt closed his eyes and tried not to think about the huge needle currently inserted into his spine. Truth was, he'd never really been ill his entire life that he remembered. Being prodded and poked by a doctor was alien to him, and being confined to a bed was frustrating. He'd heard Lester issuing everyone with their jobs last night and had felt a pang of guilt. He should be out there, chasing information and looking for results. His friends were running around and probably losing sleep just because he and a few of his old colleagues were ill.

He felt Tom pull the needle out and slide his t-shirt back down to cover him. Rolling over he watched Tom label the glass vials up and put them into his case. "Are your tests coming up with anything at all?"

"If you were just an isolated case I'd be telling you to take some paracetamol and spend the next couple of days in bed. On the surface you just seem to have a case of the flu but… that's what they thought about the others."

Emily poked her head tentatively round the bedroom door. Tom waved her in and she smiled, pushing open the door and looking at Tom. "I'm making some tea, would you like some?"

"Not for me, thank you. I need to get these back to the ARC for testing as soon as possible and Becker sent me a text message a few minutes ago to say he had the case histories for the first two deaths." Tom patted his case. "Though I'm sure Matt could use a good cup of tea. Fluids and bed rest are probably the best thing for him at the moment."

"Of course, Doctor."

Emily went to see Tom out but he shook his head and said he knew the way and that she should stay and take care of Matt. After he'd gone, Emily sat on the end of Matt's bed. "Is there anything I can get for you? Are you comfortable enough?"

"I'm fine."

"Tea! Tom said you should have fluids. I'll go and make…"

"Emily!" Matt felt something snap inside. He hated this. Deep down he had a feeling that this wasn't just an illness and people fussing around him trying to make him feel better was no help at all. He saw the look of shock on Emily's face and realised he'd been too sharp. It wasn't her fault, she was just trying to do what she knew best. "There is something you can do for me."

"Name it."

"Call Connor. Ask him to come over. There's something I want to discuss with him." As he watched Emily scuttle off obediently, he couldn't help smiling. Despite all of her efforts to be a modern day woman, she just couldn't help herself sometimes. Being a good little Victorian woman and doing what her man told her was ingrained into her and it would be a hard habit for her to break. He could hear her talking to Connor on the phone and his mind drifted to the reasons he wanted to talk to Connor.

Whilst Matt had been training for this mission, one of the main topics of discussion had been what would happen to them if they succeeded in stopping whoever interfered with the anomalies. They knew they wouldn't be able to return to their own timeline, but how could they remain in this one? All sorts of theories had been bounced around but no-one could give a definite answer since there had never been a precedent for what they were doing. Matt suspected that he was smack bang in the middle of finding out exactly what happened when you changed your own past and he wasn't convinced that any kind of medical intervention was going to help him. He also believed that if anyone would understand that fact it would be Connor.

-o-

An hour later, Connor was sitting on a chair at the side of Matt's bed and setting up his laptop to connect to Matt's wifi. As he did so, Connor was also talking to Jess on his mobile phone asking her to send him all of the information that Becker had got already. Matt noted that Connor seemed tired with huge dark circles under his eyes.

"You look almost as rough as I feel," Matt said.

"Difficult night," Connor replied, trying not to make eye contact. "I kept Abby awake half the night because I was so restless, then I decided to go downstairs so that I wouldn't disturb her any more." He finally looked up and caught the look of amusement in Matt's eyes.

"Bet that went down well?"

"She ended up following me and we sat on the sofa talking about stuff." Connor felt his cheeks flush and he was glad when his computer sprang into life and he could see his emails appearing on the screen. "This news has shocked us as much as it has you, Matt. Abby thinks we should let the doctors do their thing and that the best thing we can do is take care of the ARC whilst you're ill and be there for you."

"But you think differently?"

"You're dying…" Connor swallowed and chewed on his bottom lips. The words stuck in his throat as it hit him just how bad this really was. "You're seriously ill and I'm not a doctor. What do I know? Perhaps Abby's right."

Matt took a deep breath. "Imagine living in my version of the world. People didn't have children by choice – who would consciously choose to bring up a baby in that kind of environment? Life was incredibly hard and there would always be someone dying or taking ill. You tried to become hardened to it so that it wouldn't hurt any more, and it was easier to just strike out on your own and not get attached to anyone."

"It worked the majority of the time, but sometimes it would just all be too much. People reached out for comfort and found it in the arms of another, often a stranger who happened to be there. Most of the children born in my time were the result of such a union and many never knew their fathers. Some of those others that came with me were like that. Others, like me, did know their parents to a certain extent but had lost one or both of them at an early age." Matt paused and looked at Connor, wondering if he understood where he was going with all of this.

"Now imagine the new world," Matt continued. "People can be with the ones they want to be with. Those desperate moments of just needing to be held by anyone are gone."

"And those babies are not born," Connor said simply. "Your colleagues… you… you won't exist. You don't exist any more."

"That's my theory too." Matt smiled. He knew he could rely on Connor to understand. "Sooner or later, all 20 of us will cease to exist in this timeline."

"So it's inevitable? There's nothing we can do?" Connor blinked at his computer screen. The email from Jess was flashing up as "important" but it seemed pointless even looking at it now.

"Apart from making sure my parents do actually get together.. but that wouldn't be possible."

Connor's eyes brightened. Suddenly he felt positive. There was something he could do. "Of course it's possible, Matt! We just find out where they are now and…"

Matt was shaking his head. "I know my father's name but my mother… I just know she was called Amy. I have no idea what her maiden name was and dad never talked about it."

Connor began to frantically type, looking for a way to hack into the "birth, marriages and deaths" database. He could feel that familiar rush he got when he was close to making a big discovery. He could help Matt after all. "Your dad's name would be a start. We'll find him and then start looking for someone he knows called Amy."

"It's not quite that straight forward, Connor," Matt said softly and calmly. "I'm from 55 years into your future. My parents aren't born yet. It's their parents we need to put together, and since I know absolutely nothing about them…" He watched the glint in Connor's eyes fade, and along with it the tiny glimmer of hope he'd had disappeared.

"I'm sorry," Connor said finally after some minutes of silence.

"Don't be, mate."

"How can you be so calm?" Connor choked on the tears he'd stopped fighting back.

"I've lived with the possibility of this happening for most of my life. We just have to make the most of the time that I have left. At least I have that; those others didn't." He placed a comforting hand on Connor's shoulder and was not surprised when he felt him slump against his chest. Matt took a deep breath and tried to find words that might comfort Connor but nothing felt appropriate. He simply allowed him to cry whilst he rested his arm around his shoulder. Matt blinked and realised he was beginning to shed tears too.

He wasn't grieving for himself; there was no point. He was grieving for those people, like Connor, that he'd come to consider as close friends that he'd have to leave behind when he died.