Title: Darkness - Chapter 4

Genres: Angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: The team get injured during a mission gone wrong but for Connor, there are lasting side-effects.

Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Picture. No copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Here is the final chapter. Hope you all enjoy it and thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciated the feedback. Thanks so much to Alyse for the beta.

Once Connor had gone to his room, Abby sat back down on the sofa and cried. How could he not have told her something so important? They told each other everything, or so she thought. He'd obviously taken time off and gone to the funeral - alone. Abby could've gone with him and offered her support. She hated the thought that she hadn't been there for him when he'd needed her. It hurt that he hadn't felt like he could share his pain, but she could be there for him now. Now he needed her more than ever. Because of his amnesia, to him it would be like he'd just lost his mum. Abby knew better than most what that felt like; she'd lost her own mum when she was young. She stood from the sofa and rushed up the stairs to Connor's room, knocking at first but when she got no answer, she pushed the door open slowly and walked in.

"Conn?" she said softly, walking over to the bed.

"Go away!"

She sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out, touching what she hoped was his shoulder. "Connor, let me be there for you. Just . . . let me . . . " She felt tears began to fall down her cheeks but she didn't try to wipe them away. Connor's pain was breaking her heart and she wasn't sure what she could do for him.

"Leave me alone, Abby."

One thing Abby knew for certain was that she wasn't going anywhere. She wasn't about to leave Connor to cope with this on his own again. They'd get through it together this time. She lifted the covers slightly to reveal the back of his head; hair all tousled from being under the duvet.

"Connor, I know that nothing I can say or do will make you feel any better and that nobody knows how this makes you feel but you, but just let me be here with you. You don't have to say anything, I don't have to say anything; I'll just be here."

He didn't reply but Abby thought she saw him nod his head and that was good enough for her. She pulled the covers back a little more and slipped in behind him, running her hand up and down his arm in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. Connor's body began to shake and he took deep shuddering breaths. She could tell that he was trying desperately not to make a sound but a half-sob escaped his lips and Abby felt her own tears begin to fall once more.

"It's ok to cry, Conn," she whispered. It felt as though if she spoke too loud then he might break.

Connor turned towards her suddenly, startling her, and threw his arms around her. He pulled her flush against him, burying his head into her neck and she felt the moisture of his tears as he sobbed. "I'm sorry," he said through his tears.

"Shh, don't be sorry." She stroked his hair and kissed his head. "Don't be sorry, Conn. It's ok, it's ok." Abby wasn't sure how long she lay there like that with her arms around him as he cried, but eventually he quieted and his breathing evened out indicating that he'd fallen asleep. She rolled onto her back carefully, taking Connor with her so that his head was resting on her chest and soon felt the pull of sleep herself.

Some time later, Abby awoke feeling disorientated. It took her a few moments to remember where she was and a few more to realise that she was alone. She sat up in bed and immediately her hand came into contact with Connor's back. He was sitting forward on the bed, his head in his hands. Abby ran a comforting hand up his back and to his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Before she could pull it away, Connor grabbed her hand and squeezed back before moving to kiss it softly. The act both shocked and puzzled her. Since the accident he had been distant and hesitant. More like the old Connor - the Connor he had been when they'd first met. This was more personal. More intimate.

"Connor?" she said. He let go of her hand and she let it rest on his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he sighed.

"It was raining on the day of my mum's funeral," he said. His voice sounded cracked and raw. "It seemed to rain harder when we got to the graveyard. Felt like someone was rubbing it in, stamping on my pain."

"Connor . . ." There was so much she wanted to say. Beginning with the fact that he was obviously remembering something which happened so recently and ending with the question of why he hadn't thought to tell her about his mother. Connor began to speak again though and he needed to get this out. Abby didn't want to cause any more damage than had already been done.

"There weren't many there. Couple of mum's friends, my two aunties and their husbands - Me. I thought there'd be more there. I thought that mum . . . I didn't realise she'd gotten so old. When did she get so old, Abby? How could she die? Why wasn't I there for her? I should have been there! I should've . . ." His fists hit the bed in frustration and he growled.

"It's not your fault. People die, Connor. It's sad but it's true. Even if you were there, there was nothing you could've done. Danny said she had a massive heart attack; she was gone by the time the ambulance got to her."

She heard a strangled sob escape his lips and winced. The truth hurt but he needed to hear it. Abby didn't believe in pulling any punches. It was always best to rip the plaster off as quickly as possible no matter how much pain it caused. She'd always wished she was told the truth about her mother's death. She'd spent years believing that the angels came down and just took her away. Her father obviously hadn't realised at the time that this would terrify a young Abby far more than Cancer ever could. She'd spent a childhood in fear of unseen creatures snatching her or her family away.

"I can't do this any more, Abby," he sobbed.

Abby frowned in confusion. "Do what?"

He turned to face her, his tear-filled eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "This." He gestured wildly around the room. "All of it. The ARC, me, here with you."

She made to move from the bed. "I'll leave, Connor. I'll go back to my own bed. I just came up to . . . "

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean I can't live here anymore."

Abby was dumbfounded. She felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest and bile rise up her throat. He was saying he wanted to move out? "Connor, why?" It came out as a desperate plea. She couldn't lose him, not now. "You're remembering. You must remember who I am, what I mean to you."

"That's why I have to go. That day in the warehouse; I thought I'd lost you, too, Abby, and I couldn't handle it. First Cutter was killed, then I got the call about my mother. When I saw you fall, saw the blood spread out across your clothes, across the floor, I thought you were gone too. Everyone. Everyone I ever loved and cared about gone in a matter of months, Abby. Do you know how that feels?"

She shook her head. She didn't. Not many did.

"I need to just go. Move away and never come back."

"No," Abby replied simply.

He frowned. "No?"

"No, you're not running away from your problems and I won't let you."

Connor laughed mirthlessly. "You don't really get a say in it, Abby."

"Yes, I do."

He huffed and she could see that he was getting annoyed. Anger, that was what he needed. He needed to get angry and frustrated. Anything to get him away from his self-pity.

"No, you don't."

"I won't let you, Conn. I'll just follow you."

"You won't be able to because you won't know where I am."

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound?" She was conscious that her voice was raised slightly, but she kept going. "The ARC is your life."

"YOU'RE MY LIFE!" he shouted, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her.

"Then why are you leaving me?" she said softly, her voice wavering and her eyes stinging with tears.

"Oh God, Abby, I'm so sorry." He crushed her against him, running his hands up and down her back. "I'm so, so sorry."

"I missed you," she wept. "I thought I'd never get you back. Why didn't you tell me about your mum?"

"I thought I was coping, thought I'd be ok."

Abby pulled away so she could see his face. "Even if you were, you still should have told me. I could've been there for you - gone to the funeral with you and offered my support."

"You had enough to deal with, what with Cutter's death and that."

"So did you."

"Yeah, yeah you're right, Abbs, I should've told you. I'm sorry."

She offered him a weak smile. "You seem to be saying that a lot lately."

"Sorry."

Abby batted his arm and he smiled back. An actual Connor smile. It was good to see, no matter how briefly it lasted. "So you won't be going anywhere then? You promise?"

"Promise."

She found herself hugging him again and if Connor sniffed her hair, well she'd let it slide - just this once. "Can I stay here tonight?" she asked. She really didn't want to go down to the cold emptiness of her room. She needed to feel Connor's warm body pressed against hers. Hear his soft snores as he slept. She was afraid she would wake up in the morning and find him gone, even though he'd promise to stay.

"Course you can."

His lips ghosted across her cheek and Abby felt the flutter of butterflies in her stomach. When he moved away she took his head in her hands and returned the gesture, kissing his forehead softly. There was a part of her that wanted so much more; that needed to feel all of him. But right now just being with him was enough. She lay down on the bed and pulled him with her, encouraging him to snuggle into the crook of her arm. She could tell he was a little unsure at first - he obviously wasn't used to her letting him in so close - But he soon got comfortable and it wasn't long before his soft rhythmic snoring filled the room.

Abby woke early the next morning and crept to the bathroom leaving Connor to sleep in. An hour and a half later, he finally emerged, looking crumpled and dishevelled and decidedly tasty. He gave a half wave before disappearing into the bathroom. Abby put the kettle on and put two pieces of bread into the toaster, her brain on automatic pilot. As she waited for the toast to pop up, she grimaced in pain as she felt a twinge in her shoulder and rubbed it carefully. She hadn't been wearing her sling and the position she'd slept in last night certainly hadn't helped. A voice directly behind her made her jump.

"Shoulder bothering you?" he asked, so close that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck.

"It's fine," she lied.

"No, it's not." He reached out and pulled her t-shirt aside, running his fingers along her injury gently.

Abby hissed as he touched a particularly sensitive spot. Her scar burned when touched and she couldn't prevent her knee-jerk reaction to pull away.

"Sorry."

"It's ok. I haven't been resting it properly and the scar still hurts. I have some cream to rub on to help it to heal but I keep forgetting."

"Where is it?"

"In my bag."

She turned and watched as he walked over to the coat stand and found her bag, rummaging through until he found the tube of cream and held it up. Abby nodded and he made his way back over. He unscrewed the cap and squeezed a small amount onto his finger. There was something strangely intimate about him caring for her injury. She winced as he made contact with her shoulder again but she struggled to keep quiet and stay still for him.

"There," he said, placing the tube of cream on the worktop.

"Thanks, Conn."

They looked at one another for a moment, their gazes locked. The toast popped up, startling them both and Abby turned away abruptly, placing it on a plate before buttering both slices generously. Connor had moved away and was pulling out a chair to sit at the table. She placed the plate down in front of him and smiled.

"There ya go."

"Thanks." He smiled up at her warmly. "Abby? Will you come with me to see the psychiatrist today please?"

"Yeah, course I will. I was going to come anyway." Of course she would be there, why would he think otherwise?

"Thank you." He stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth and began to chew noisily.

Abby screwed up her face in disgust. Some things never changed. She turned away to make tea for them both and smiled. It was then that she realised that she'd grown to appreciate those things now more than ever.

The end