Chapter Four : Bittersweet Sleep

A/N: Set in the same episode, because I couldn't exactly ignore this part, it's a big step in their relationship's growth. And because this is the second to last one set in S2. Also in contrast to the previous chapter, this one focusses on Connor's thoughts rather than Abby's. And I do delve into purely fan-made stuff in this chapter as well as the dialogue from the episode, so no worries! :)

Connor's mind was practically buzzing, a broad grin on his face and holding Abby as close as she would let him as they stepped, drenched and exhausted and achy, from the anomaly and into the present. Abby turned towards him for a moment, and he just focussed on moving them forwards, to dry off and then go home. To the flat. She wasn't dead. His arm may've been hurting, but Abby's was, too, and he would take care of her. That hollow , desperate fearful pit in his stomach and the back of his mind was fading, but it would probably take hours sitting up with Abby on the couch and watching tele like they always did before he could relax. And maybe see what she thought about what he'd said to her. And possibly see what could come of that.

He'd told her he loved her. Hell, he'd screamed it to her, but case to point, he'd said it. And really and truly meant it. She was the love of his life, not a silly crush but a good-and-honest, from the whole of his being, love for his flatmate. He'd completely forgotten about Caroline as well, just floated along in the warmth of the fact that Abby was alive and well and knew how he felt and all was well.

Until Abby went over to Lucien, and Connor, passing by with a grin on his face, felt it flee from his face as he overheard.

"He's not my boyfriend!" Abby hissed, as if she could hardly bear the thought of anyone overhearing. As if the thought that she might have feelings for Connor, and vice versa, was so distasteful to he that she couldn't bear to hear it mentioned.

His smile dropped and he hid it away. The love for her, the happiness and the dreams and wishes and possibilities; the pain and the fear and the tears threatening to fall. He hid it all as best he could and trudged away tiredly, to wait by the car. Connor looked over at Abby, talking to Cutter about something, despite attempts not to watch her. It hurt, it really did. He opened himself up like that to her, told her he loved her, and she had to say it that way? They weren't boyfriend and girlfriend of course, but did she really have to always correct everyone in a tone that gave the overall impression that being with him was comparable to being with a... well, with something you find on the bottom of your trainers from the pavement, rather than a possibility. it settled it. His feelings for her were completely unrequited, and he would have to deal with it as it came.

Maybe he could wait?

Maybe she was just tired.

Maybe she was just... maybe he was imagining the tone in her voice. Perhaps they would go back to the flat and... No. He could not admit it again, not only was a fear of rejection suddenly onset in his mind, but he valued their friendship too much to make a big deal over this. It was a slip up, a mess, a mistake. He'd just been scared of loosing her again, that was all. Maybe he could convince her it was platonic love? Like siblings? He cringed. That would not be a good idea, was it? There was still a possibility, maybe.

The drive home was quiet. They were both really exhausted, and besides exchanging little smiles every now and then, and fussing with the radio (he couldn't stand the adverts or certain songs, and had to change stations until he found a good song. Abby on the other hand prefered to leave it on one station because they had a majority of good songs), they didn't

really say much at all. Once they entered the flat, tiredly pulling themselves up the stairs, he decided to pretend he hadn't overheard what she said to Lucien. She shouldn't want to be with him out of pity, or because she was sorry for him.

Connor didn't really expect the question she did ask him, though.

He panicked.

He denied it.

And just as there seemed to be a moment, he was going to say something, or Abby was, or in a cliché they might speak at the same time, real life intruded with a rather irritating-at-the-moment timing.

Caroline. He'd forgotten his girlfriend. He looked at Abby, didn't see what he wanted to in her eyes, and what could he do?

In Caroline at least he would have a girlfriend. Even if she wasn't Abby.

"Caroline?"

"What, Connor?" The theatre was dark but for the spotlights upon the stage. He gripped the armrests in a vice-like grip. They were really, really high up. And the romantic theme of the play was not helping get images of Abby out of his head. Caroline's voice sounded irritated with him, and he wondered why she wanted him to be here with her if she wasn't happy about being here with him. He realized he was elbowing her in the side and reluctantly loosened his grip on the armrest so he would stop that.

"Erm, I... I'm all out of snacks."

"You can wait until intermission, Connor. You can't just get up in the middle of the play!"

"Righ'. Sorry." He muttered, slouching down in his seat, and knew he looked like a sullen little kid. She wasn't even holding his hand, she hadn't kissed him at all, and she didn't even seem to want to talk to him. Once again Connor wondered why he was even there. He shifted uncomfortably at the thought of Abby all alone in the flat. "So what's going on in the play? I can't really see..." He whispered. Caroline glared at him and then her expression shifted to a seductive smile and she pulled him closer, kissing his cheek and letting go of his scarf.

"Pay attention, Connor, and I'll explain at intermission, alright?" He mumbled a 'yes' and tried to pay attention, but his mind kept imagining Abby, alone and upset and tired. He was missing her. He'd promised not to let her out of his sight, and then as soon as Caroline appeared, he'd left, at her beck and call and everything. This wasn't working out at all.

He left at intermission, pleading out on a headache that wasn't so much pretend as an over-exaggeration of a still painful one, and walked back to the flat because Caroline wanted to stay and see the rest of the play. He could almost think that she'd looked apologetically at him for a split second, but it faded quickly enough.

Connor entered the flat, trying to be quiet as he closed and locked the door behind him, walked up the stairs, and stumbled through the main room, past the couch. He turned to look at it and was surprised to see Abby sleeping, curled up tightly and with a thin blanket over her shivering frame. He sighed quietly, and scooped her up into his arms, ignoring a lingering pain in his arm as he carried her as smoothly as he could towards her room.

After he lay her down on her bed and pulled her thick blankets and duvet over her surprisingly small frame, Connor couldn't resist standing in the doorway and watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful. He was sure his own dreams would be nothing short of terrible. Connor was actually quiet surprised that she wasn't having nightmares. But then again, this was Abby.

She was strong...

He left her room and went to his own bed in the loft, frowning at the bed for a moment. Something was missing! Connor's eyes widened and a small smile flitted onto his face. The light sheet Abby'd had draped over her on the couch was one of his. A silly part of him wondered if that was why she was sleeping so easily. He ignored the other part that told him he was being an idiot, and settled down for bed, smiling still.

Abby awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of Connor's cries. He was crying her name, and she realized with anuncomfortable pang that he was reliving the moments earlier that day when he'd thought her dead. She frowned at her surroundings for a moment, staring at the sheet still wrapped around her body, and smiled. Another sharp, desperate cry filled the flat, and Abby's smile dropped. She scrambled out of bed and hurried up to the loft as quickly as she could.

"Connor, it's okay, Conn. I'm okay. You saved me, remember? I'm alive." She whispered to him, perching on the edge of his bed and soothing him. She couldn't resist but lightly stroke his face, watching as the lines on his face smoothed, watched him slowly relax and calm under her gentle touch and whispered words of comfort. She blinked in surprise as she thought she heard him repeat his confession.

"love you, love you... never leave... Abbs?... Love ya. Alive, you're... alive... that's... love you... good... mhmhmmmmmm" He mumbled, settling down again. Yes, she definitely had heard what she thought she'd heard. Again. Darn him!

Abby pulled his blankets further over his shoulders and watched him instinctively cuddle into the blankets and then he was out like a light. With a small, gentle smile, and fully pretending she hadn't heard the admission this time as well as last, Abby left Connor and went back to her own room, to cuddle up in her own bed and go back to sleep. She pulled the extra sheet close and breathed in, smiling sleepily.

"Sweet dreams Connor." She murmered.