For Becca (not Becker, which is a common mistake that got us some weird looks from our friends, and caused much amusement for all in on the joke :D), for hounding me every day for months to get this finished. Thank you for reading over my shoulder, stealing my notebook and being an all-round taskmaster when it came to my writing. No, really; this story would probably still be lounging in its folder if you hadn't. Also, sorry for writing the third part first and confusing you L: *sheepish grin*. Anyways, Merry Christmas *random gestures toward story*

After six years trapped alone and out of time, Clipper Becker has found her way home. Reunited with her brother, she now has to relearn 21st century survival. It won't be easy, but she has found something she never expected; a Kindred Spirit.

Kindred

Tap

Clipper's eyes flew open for the sixth time in three hours. She froze; every sense straining for the source of the sound.

Tap, tap

Her gaze flickered to the window and...

The window?

Finally, her surroundings came back to her and she forced herself to relax.

Of course, in relaxing, other issues came to the front of her sleep-addled mind. Namely; the bed.

It was comfortable. This was a concept Clipper had trouble wrapping her mind around; she hadn't been comfortable for six years.

Where was the root digging into her back?

Where was the cold water dripping from the roof of the cave?

Where was the bone-numbing ache from sleeping on damp rocks?

Quite simply, they weren't there.

And Clipper couldn't stand it.

Her eyes flew around her new bedroom. Four walls. One ceiling. A smooth wood floor. One window.

One window, twelve floors up.

Once again, her back stiffened.

Twelve floors was too high if something happened. There was only one way out of this place. Only one exit. Not enough exits.

Courage now threatening to break, Clipper felt the familiar feeling of panic begin to crawl up her throat, choking her. Her skin prickled and her stomach was tying itself in knots. Clipper screwed her eyes shut and tried to picture herself somewhere else; somewhere safe.

Back in her cold, lonely, raptor-ridden forest.

Back where she knew what to do.

It was no good.

Tap, tap

She broke; flying out of bed and scrambling into her borrowed clothes. Her heart was racing, eyes blind in panic. She had to get out!

The door slammed loudly in her wake.

Outside, the air stank of fumes, but it was cool and refreshing on her sweaty face. She could feel herself calming down.

All around her were buildings; great slabs of grey and black; so different from what she was used to. There was no green; the only brown was the mud in the road and trees were few and far between.

It was like an alien planet.

Finally, her eyes lit upon a large swathe of grass surrounding a small wood.

After six years of living almost exclusively in the things, anyone would think she'd be fed up of trees but the damp bark was rough beneath her calloused palms and the smell of decaying leaves rich and deep and comforting.

Reaching up, Clipper grasped the lowest branch of a familiar pine and kicked off the trunk, launching herself into the tree. Then she climbed, climbed until she was so high she couldn't see the ground.

She was alone again; safe again.

Except she wasn't.

Clipper froze as she spotted a face in the branches. White-blonde hair and bright-blue eyes. It was Hil's friend; the one he worked with. What was her name?

'You're Abby aren't you?'

Abby smiled and nodded. 'Hello again, Clipper.'

Clipper sat down, leaning her back against the trunk as she resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't be alone tonight. Then something occurred to her.

'What're you doing here anyway? I mean...up a tree? In the middle of the night?'

Abby laughed. 'I suppose I could ask you the same question.'

'I've spent the last six years up trees in the middle of the night.' Clipper retorted. 'The bed was too comfortable. What's your excuse?'

Abby's gaze met hers. 'It's the same as yours, just shorter. And I didn't sleep in them every night.'

Clipper's eyes widened. 'Oh.'

'Yeah, I can't always stand being inside; it's too...close. So I come out here instead. Closer to what I got used to. So I don't blame you for escaping because I'm the same. I just want to help.'

'I don't-'

'-need help? Your brother never needs help either. Just bear in mind that I know you do. I know the only reason you haven't run for the hills already is because you trust Becker to keep you safe. It was the same for Connor and I; he was the first one we saw when we got back and he wouldn't let us out of his sight. Mostly; we didn't keep ourselves entirely out of trouble but he had our backs when we needed him, same as ever.'

Clipper was still staring at her, unable to believe this calm, confident woman had been through the same sort of hell she had. She seemed so...comfortable.

Abby seemed to know what she was thinking. 'It gets easier, eventually. Connor and I weren't gone as long as you, or as young, and we knew what we were getting ourselves into, plus we were together; so our circumstances weren't quite the same as yours. It took us months to stop keeping watch at night, we would jump at small noises and our first instincts would still be to jump up the nearest tree or whatever was within a few metres, so we do know how you feel.'

Clipper was quiet for a moment; Abby recognised that look; the same one Becker got when he was about to say something personal. Not that it happened much. When the girl spoke, her voice was heavy and she refused to meet Abby's eye.

'I used to be a really heavy sleeper. I had to be; Mum wasn't exactly quiet when she was drunk. Sometimes I wouldn't wake up unless Hil was actually jumping on my bed. But on one of my first nights in the forest, I woke up and there was a Raptor just a few feet away. I kept really still and quiet so it didn't notice me but I knew I was lucky. One day I might wake up with something chewing on my leg. I got paranoid, and it made me a light sleeper. I'd wake up if a twig cracked, if there was a breeze, if there was nothing at all, and it saved my life more times than I can remember.'

Abby knew what she was talking about. Even with one keeping guard, both she and Connor would wake at the slightest disturbance. Not so good if you didn't know your flatmate was a sleepwalker; only the night before had the two of them flown out of bed, armed with pillows only to realise that no, it wasn't a dinosaur out for an easy meal, just Jess, fast asleep and making a cup of tea.

'I think I just learned more about Becker's personal life in ten seconds talking to you than three years knowing him. He never says anything; just clams up and stares at you until you feel awkward enough to change the subject. The biggest hint we've ever had to his first name is you calling him "Hil".'

Clipper laughed. 'I won't tell you either; he's kept that secret since he started secondary school. I don't blame him; I have no idea what was going through our parents' heads when they saddled him with the worst family name ever thought of. I mean, in Tudor England maybe, but nowadays? Poor sod never stood a chance. He's been Becker ever since he was eleven. Mind you, I've been Clipper since I was a few months old so I can't talk.'

'What - Clipper's not your real name?' Abby seemed genuinely surprised.

'Nah, its Bryn. Means "Hill" believe it or not.' Abby snickered. 'Seriously though, no-one knows his name?'

'Jess probably does but she'll never tell. I think Connor might but he's most likely going to use it as blackmail the next time he can't be bothered to do his own paperwork.'

'I think I might like Connor.' Clipper grinned. 'I once blackmailed Hil into taking me and my friends to the fair. Six five-year-olds jacked up on candyfloss...he couldn't sit straight for a week. How does Connor know his name anyway?'

Abby shrugged, surprised by the banter she managed to fall into with this socially-repressed girl.

'Same as Jess; he read his file when he first started. Becker was hired to ensure what happened to one of our best friends would never happen to anyone else. Connor wanted to make sure he was up to the job.'

Just like that, the joking atmosphere was gone. The smile slid off Clipper's face and Abby felt old memories welling up again.

'Did it happen?' Clipper's voice was soft and careful.

Abby sniffed. 'Yes, but it wasn't Becker's fault. He beats himself up about it but not even he can save everyone. It's just - no-one seems to have told him that.'

Clipper's nimble fingers were at work. They snapped of a dry branch, about an inch in diameter and a foot long, and set about stripping the bark off it. She didn't seem to be concentrating.

'I used to think he was invincible. When I was four, there were a bunch of boys from the secondary school who used to push me around and steal my lunch money and stuff. One day Hil found out. He came home late and he had a black eye but those boys never came near me again. He was my...my knight in shining armour I suppose. Whenever I had trouble, there he was, fixing it. The only time he wasn't there was when I went through that gateway and trust me, that was through no lack of effort on his part.' Clipper sighed, slipping a flint knife from her belt. Calmly, she began shaving long curls off the stick in her hand.

Abby watched in amazed silence as a wooden knife began to take shape. The blade, then the hilt; both were meticulously honed with care and precision.

'Is this what you do to relax?'

Clipper, now sharpening the blade, didn't look up. 'I prefer flint really but wood's more hands on; distracts the mind. With flint, fire does all the work but wood, you can see whatever it is forming right under your fingers. Thing is, it rots. It rots, goes blunt too quickly, gets stained and swelled by blood, chips when you really don't want it to. Flint is beautiful. It's sharp straight away, wipes easily, kills quickly and if you treat it right, it'll treat you right.' Clipper held up the flint knife she was using. In the dim moonlight filtering through the trees, Abby could see the dark red stains marring the blue stone.

'Is that...?'

'Blood. Burnt on. Like I said, it never let me down. It probably saved my life but I never managed to get the blood off.'

'Your blood?'

'Yes.'

'...Burnt on?'

Clipper hesitated slightly before pulling up the hem of her trouser leg, exposing a long, white scar. It had healed well, but certainly not completely naturally; there were ridges where the skin had been pulled together, but no sign of stitches. The edges looked like...

'Burnt on. You cauterized it?'

The girl nodded, covering the scar back up. 'I couldn't stitch it, I had nothing clean enough to bandage it, and if I'd left it open I'd've been dead within the week, either from infection or whatever was attracted by the smell.'

Abby nodded, feeling slightly nauseous. 'How old were you?'

'It was my sixteenth birthday.'

'Ouch.'

'Yeah.' She smirked. 'Happy Birthday.' Pulling a scrap of hide from the belt, she tested the wooden knife by slicing it straight down the middle. It cut through easily. Smiling in satisfaction, she flipped it, caught it carefully by the blade, and offered it to Abby hilt first.

'Not particularly practical, but good for decoration.'

It was six inches, honey coloured with black streaks. There were no lavish carvings or extravagant decorations to distract from its simplicity. It was just a slightly curved hilt and basic blade. Decorations, Abby supposed, were all well and good, but they wouldn't help keep you alive if the knife were to come in handy.

'Thank you.'

'No problem.'

The two sat in silence for a few more minutes, Clipper running a rough pumice file over the edges of her blade, Abby mulling over everything the girl had told her. She frowned, getting stuck on one thing.

'Can I ask you a personal question? Feel free not to answer.'

Clipper glanced at her then gave a small nod of consent.

'You talk about Becker as if he's your personal superman, but what about your parents? He never says anything, and you've barely mentioned them either. I suppose we just always assumed he was from a military, stiff-upper-lip family and left it alone.'

There was a long pause.

'You can trace our family's military history back to the English Civil War; there was an Edward Becker, a general in the New Model Army. I'm not sure how far back we go from then but there has been at least one soldier per generation since. Dad was a soldier, so are my Uncles; Sam, Chris and Jason. My granddad, great-granddad, great-uncles. I've got eight cousins on my Dad's side and I know at least five of them are planning on joining up; maybe they already have. So yes; a very military family. Thing is, that's only Dad's side. Mums line...she didn't know what she was getting herself into. Maybe she thought she could cope with him being away all the time. And she could, while Hil was growing up, and then when I was born, she was great. But she loved our Dad, she really loved him. And then...'

Her voice choked off slightly. 'Don't tell Hil I told you this. Don't let him know you know and don't tell anyone else...promise me, Abby. He's happier keeping it hidden but I...' She huffed in frustration. Abby promised.

'Dad was killed in action and she never recovered. Me and Hil took a back seat and she drank herself into oblivion every night. That's why we're so close, even now. I don't really remember her before; I was only two when he died. Hil was twelve; he pretty much raised me until he went to Sandhurst seven years later.'

Abby opened her mouth, then closed it, realising she didn't know what to say. Clipper hadn't finished anyway; her voice became slightly desperate, like Becker's did whenever he spoke about Sarah's death, or Abby, Connor and Danny's disappearance.

'I went feral after he left. There were no boundaries, none at all. I never skipped school but I'd be out until midnight; nine, ten years old. I learned to feed myself at home, learned to find food outside if there was none in the house. When I went through that gateway...the only differences were the dinosaurs, no other people and that I never knew when or if I'd ever see Hil again. That's why I went through; he was being deployed to Iraq and I knew there was a chance he'd never come back so I freaked out and took off. That was the last time I saw him until today.' Clipper gave a dry smile. 'He hasn't changed. Not much anyway; that scar through his eyebrow is new.'

'He's had it as long as I've known him so...three years. At least. I always assumed he got it on deployment.'

'Maybe he did.'

There was a pause as Clipper frowned, clearly unsure whether or not to say something. Then it all came out in a rush.

'Why were you all there? I mean, of all the places in the world I could have ended up, why was my brother right there when I came out?'

'Well the vast majority of the anomalies we detect are in Britain, so it was a pretty safe bet you'd show up here.'

'Abby.' Clearly, after six years, Clipper was taking no prisoners. Abby turned the knife in her fingers; playing for time and, although she would never admit it, unable to look the girl in the eye.

'It's his job. Dinosaurs can cross through just as easily as you did and someone has to keep them under control. That someone happens to be your brother, along with the rest of us.' Abby chanced a glance up. Clipper's face was expressionless, eyes devoid of any emotion. She was staring at her in a way that suggested she was struggling to keep herself under control. When she finally spoke, her voice was flat and worryingly calm.

'His job.' It sounded like the lull before the storm. 'His...his job. What I've been living through since I was ten, he does for a job. Is he bloody insane?'

'Probably; we all are. I mean we fight dinosaurs for a living. My pet lizard is about two hundred million years old. You don't get more insane than that.'

'I suppose not.' Clipper pulled her legs up and buried her face in her knees, so her next words came out muffled. 'I just don't want him to get hurt. Or lost. Because it's hell through there, you know that better than almost anyone.'

'Becker is one of the most experienced members of the team but he's only been through a couple of anomalies. The same one actually. A few times.'

Clipper lifted her head, giving Abby a suspicious look.

'Experienced?'

'Well, yeah; he's worked for the ARC for three years, that's longer than everyone except me, Connor and Lester. He knows what he's doing, and he's got the luck of the devil on his side; the scrapes he's got himself out of...I don't know how he does it.'

The girl smirked. 'Family trait. Works with just about anything from getting away with late homework to getting away from dinosaurs with a taste for your blood. There was one time when my uncle Jason was at Sandhurst; he got drunk with a couple of other guys, nicked the Captain's car and went joyriding. His mates kicked him out at the next village and he had to walk back. Just as well because the Captain caught the others when they got back and they got it in the neck. Jason got off Scot free because they were so drunk that they'd completely forgotten that he was the ringleader!'

Abby laughed, hoping they were past the topic of her friend's mortality.

Clipper leaned back against the trunk again, and raised her eyes to the heavens. Abby followed her gaze, focusing on the stars.

'They're like old friends aren't they?' The girl mused. 'Look, there's the plough.' The crooked frying pan shape stood out clearly against the black back-drop. Abby smiled; the familiar stars were rarely seen in London.

'Hil taught me how to spot them. They weren't much help back in the forest but they were a comfort; a bit of home I suppose. Helped keep me sane.'

Abby stretched her arm out and pointed at a W on its side. 'There's Casseopeia.'

'And Sirius.'

'And Sagittarius.'

'That's my star-sign.'

Abby frowned. 'I thought November was Scorpio.'

'Late November is Sagittarius.'

'Ah.'

From then on the conversation was light-hearted; mindless, friendly even, until Abby happened to glance at her watch and almost fell out of the tree. 'Clipper, you've got to get home; it's almost six.'

The girl frowned in confusion.

'Becker will be up soon to get ready for work; he won't be happy if he goes to check on you and you're not there.'

'Wouldn't want to make him go grey early.' Agreed Clipper, already sliding out of the tree. She scrambled down, hitting the ground only seconds before Abby. 'See you later?'

Her new friend smiled. 'See you later.'

Clipper opened the door slowly, carefully. It didn't squeak. Outside, the sky was turning from black to blue to red to pink; signalling the arrival of her first day home. She smiled.

Flopping into an armchair, Clipper curled up to watch the sun creep over the horizon, all the while keeping an eye on Hil's bedroom door. He emerged before long, looking exhausted; with dark rings round his eyes and his hair tousled and in need of a brush. He looked younger than she knew him to be.

Her brother wandered over, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and sat on the arm next to her. Clipper leant against his hip and closed her eyes.

It wouldn't be easy, she knew, returning to modern life, but she had something that she had never imagined she would; Abby and Connor; who had seen it, done it, and knew how to help, and that would be just what she needed. That, and Hil.

Her brother, and her Kindred Spirit.

Tadaaa. I honestly never thought I'd get this one done; I've been plagued with Writers Block so I'm not really sure how it's turned out. Comments will be very welcome *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

TTFN, When the Wind Stands Fair