Here's My Fourth Chappie!
Wow, I never thought I'd get so far. :O
Apparently my muse is fond of Primeval...
Thanks for your reviews, keep 'em coming!
PS, Don't own, except in my dreams.
There was only one place in the ARC which Abby Maitland considered hallowed ground.
You could find her sitting there once a week – usually a Wednesday, sometimes meditating, sometimes bobbing her head to music, and sometimes – to the clinical observer at least – talking to herself.
All the ARC workers knew her little routine, and they didn't bother her – after all it had all been her idea, and a good one, too.
Everyone at the ARC respected and loved Abby. She was so hard working, gentle and compassionate. She remembered when she had asked her old headmaster to fill out a reference for her job at the zoo – how long ago had that been?
It feels like I've aged 20 years since then... Abby thought wryly.
Abby hadn't expected much. She knew she was bright, but she hated being bossed about, and she didn't stand for any bullying. Unfortunately, that had meant a good few fights, resulting in a number of trips to the head's office in bad grace.
So she'd been surprised when the middle-aged man handed her a sheet of paper across his formidable desk, with twinkling eyes, and a twitch of the mouth which indicated a sense of humour! Who knew head teachers had them, eh?
Given the smile, she'd been half expecting a joke when she read his reference – but Abby had been in for a surprise.
Wherever there is a problem, Abby will find a solution. Wherever there is hard work to be done, Abby will be first to dig into it. Whenever someone is not being heard, Abby will raise her voice above the crowd and force others to hear. If you see a big effort put into a small detail, extra work done, good ideas put forward, or a quiet kindness shown, you can bet it will be the work of Abigail Maitland.
Abby had pinned a copy of the old teacher's reference to her bedroom wall, to remind her in times of stress or trouble that she was Abby Maitland, and she could handle whatever the world had to throw at her.
People were counting on her to be herself.
When Stephen had died, Abby's "Abbyness" had been needed in the team. They were in limbo, an emotionally disembowelled mess, with only their work to unite them.
During quiet moments at the ARC, rather than the laughing and joking that had previously occurred the team drifted away, each dealing with the grief in their own way.
Connor had fiddled infuriatingly with the ADD, checking and double checking every circuit.
He didn't sleep at night, and Abby would hear him pacing up and down the flat muttering about secondary routers and viral shields.
She knew he often felt like a token member of the team, not tough enough or witty enough to be doing field work, so all his energy became centred on tightening his beloved tech systems. Trying to prevent any more failures, that could result in a loss.
Jenny had outwardly been fine – she was always professional, but Abby knew she wasn't cold. She knew it was only a matter of time before she cracked.
Jenny had sat at her computer for hours on end, typing and typing, so fast her fingers were a blur. She must have done enough paperwork to cover years of insurance and data protection.
Then one day, Abby had joined Jenny at her workbench – just to offer her a cup of coffee, no big deal, and seen tears streaming down her face in droves, as her fingers still moved across the keyboard.
Gently, Abby had pulled them away and held her close, not caring if mascara streaked down her shirt.
Lester had sat in his office, outwardly as calm and cold as the minimalist decor. It was only when you looked closer that you saw him clutching the corners of his desk in a white-knuckled deathgrip, or squeezing a stress ball so hard it was practically flat.
Cutter had been the worst.
He just sat at his desk, never speaking, rarely even blinking. All he did was stare at nothing, and his bright blue eyes filled up with tears he was too stubborn to let fall.
Abby herself felt the need of a hand to hold, something to anchor her back on earth.
So she had insisted.
Lester had hummed and hawed a bit about the idea, but he had soon caved to her determination.
Thus Abby's place of hallowed ground had been born.
Large climbing roses grew, twined around a metal arch. At the centre of the arch was a plaque:
The Stephen Hart Memorial
This Memorial is dedicated to Stephen Hart, who died on the 4th of March 2007, aged 32.
And
The brave British soldiers and government personnel who died protecting the present from the dangers of anomalies and incursions from past & future eras.
"The valiant never taste of death but once."
William Shakespeare.
The team had never truly felt comfortable visiting Stephen's graveside. They were all too aware of Helen Cutter's presence – the anachronistic ammonite they found after the funeral was proof that she had been there – and would return.
They had no wish to see her.
After the memorial was built, team morale improved. Each ARC worker developed a little ritual: some left flowers, or a picture of Stephen under it. Others rubbed the plaque before going on a mission.
And every Wednesday, Abby Maitland would chat to Stephen Hart, and remember him. Why Wednesday?
It had been Stephen's favourite day of the week. One day, on a long drive to an anomaly sighting she had casually asked him which was his favourite.
"Wednesday." He had replied.
"Why?" She asked, puzzled. Her own favourite day was Friday – she loved the feeling of kicking back after a long week fighting anomalies. Sure, more often than not she got called away anyway, but still...
"Wednesday is such an optimistic day", Stephen answered, "It's still early in the week so you feel like you have time to achieve your goals, but it also feels close to the end of the week and a little break from the daily grind."
And Abby had agreed with him, as she did on so many things. Stephen was often caught in Cutter's shadow, but he was wise about a lot of things (his dubious choice of lovers aside).
These days, Abby looked back on her days of attraction to him, with fondness, rather than longing. Falling in love with Stephen for that short time had been as much of a learning curve for her as the first time she'd set eyes on a prehistoric creature.
Abby realised now that she hadn't been in love with Stephen, only the idea of love. Being linked with one person in a life-or-death situation makes strong emotions develop. In effect, Abby had been in love with an adrenaline rush.
Luckily for her, Stephen had been gentle, and friendly and Abby's naive infatuation had soon become an easy friendship. And what had begun (on her part, anyway) as an easy friendship had started to slowly develop, in this bewildering way she couldn't quite...
Stop. Those thoughts are something you shouldn't go into...
But he said he loved me...
He'd do anything to get you to hang on! You're only gonna mess up your relationship with your best mate...
Besides, why are you thinking all this here? You should be thinking about Stephen...
Abby ignored the clashing thoughts in her head and focused on the little picture of Cutter and Stephen.
It had been taken before Cutter had entered the anomaly: before the revelation of Helen and Stephen's affair, before Cutter had come back a different man. The two friends looked cheerful and carefree, slightly cocky and...
Young, Abby thought, They look young.
"Hey Stephen", Abby murmured, plonking herself cross legged on the floor in front of the memorial.
"There's a song called that just out – Hey Stephen, by Taylor Swift. Maybe you'd like it, you always were a secret country fan... Then again maybe not.
"Stephen... I wish you were here to talk to right now. Although if you were, I'd probably feel sort of too awkward to say it. Lately I've been feeling... Different. It's all that prat Connor's fault, obviously!
" You know he caused a Quarantine, Stephen? Got slimed by some big worm thing and now we're stuck here for goodness knows how long. Unlucky isn't the word..."
Why was it so hard for Abby to just spit it out? The man she was talking to wasn't even here, and yet... She felt his presence. She knew that Stephen Hart wasn't really in the cemetery under the simple wooden cross his will had specified.
This job had consumed Stephen's life, he felt such passion for it and it ate him up. That, and his irrational love for Helen Cutter.
Abby clenched her fists in anger at the thought of that woman. But her anger gave her words.
"Love's a funny old thing, Stephen. You can start off thinking you're in love in with someone, then one day you wake up and realise it was someone else all along.
"Or else you love someone with the exact same passion as you hate them. You might not know why you're so drawn to that person, when part of them repulses you, but you can't control the draw. That kind of love always burns you out.
"That was your real cause of death, wasn't it Stephen? It should have said it on your death certificate Cause of Death: Helen Cutter.
"If you believe Cutter's ramblings the whole universe is in flux, and not even love is safe from it. You can wake up one day and your lover has the same face, but different memories, stories, a different life.
"Then there's love like yours and Cutter's. Mates. Best mates. Not even your affair got in the way of that, not really. I wish you could be around to guide him now, he's a mess without you.
"Try not to worry, though. Jenny's got him in hand. I swear, someday soon those two will become an item.
"You're missing so much, Stephen, really.
"But I want to apologise today. For thinking I was in love with you. For all the guilt-trips and jealous looks and the times I blanked you.
"So I'm sorry Stephen. I know what love really feels like – at least I think I do and... whatever our little brief thing was... It wasn't real love."
Connor cleared his throat behind her.
"Great minds think alike. I needed to talk to him too, tonight," he said gruffly.
Abby smiled, trying to pretend she wasn't on the verge of one serious crying jag.
"It's okay to miss him Abby... You've been so strong through all of this but... even the unconquerable Abby needs to cry every now and then."
Whether it was Connor's kind words or his big brown puppy-dog eyes, Abby's self control broke down, and the brick barrier of tears she'd been holding together flooded out as she threw herself into Connor's arms.
"Stephen wouldn't want you to feel this way, Abby. He'd want us all to move on. To fight the anomalies and make sure nobody else gets hurt... But that doesn't mean you need to wall up all your feelings. And you know I'm always here for you."
"Thanks Connor. Just... promise you'll always be around... yeah?"
Connor sighed, faking irritation and grinned down at the pretty blonde with mascara-streaked cheeks.
"You know Abby, for someone great looking, clever, and smart, you can be really thick sometimes? To that particular stupid question, the answer's always gonna be the same: obviously Abigail Maitland!"
Sorry if it was a bit long!
I just think that Abby never gets studied in depth, emotionally, and that tie with Stephen seemed to disappear all too easily for my liking.
Please keep reviewing, I want to get to at least Chapter 5.
(then I'll do a Chapter 5 dance around my room :P)