Current Song: "Holding On and Letting Go" - Ross Copperman

It's everything you wanted
It's everything you don't
It's one door swinging open
And one door swinging closed

"Move NOW!"

He shoved her hard before she could object, her breath forced from her lungs as she hit the ground. She laid still until the stars that had been dancing in her vision cleared. She would thoroughly throttle him for that later. The commotion behind dragged her back to reality a little faster and she struggled to her feet, immediately seeking our Connor.

"Abby, run! Head back!"

She couldn't see him. It was so dark. And if she couldn't see him, then he couldn't see the snake. She turned on a heel and began to run toward camp. She thought she heard him call again, but she couldn't risk attracting the serpent toward their camp. She silently prayed that he could keep it occupied (and stay alive) while she fetched them some much needed light. She came to a sliding halt in front of their cave and scrambled inside. She would give a kidney to have a gun, but the stick she carried with her would have to do. Holding the end of it over their tiny fire, she bounced on her feet, willing it to ignite.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!" Small at first, the tip flickered but finally blazed to life. "Yes!" The run back seemed to take hours, but she could finally make out a figure staggering toward her. "Connor, thank God." Her relief was quickly divested. The lengthy killer moved so fast, appearing in front of Connor to yank him back into a nearby tree with a sickening 'thud.' "Connor, NO!" She sprinted, praying the flame would last. She could just make them out now, the snake hissing in annoyance. Connor's eyes had rolled back, his mouth hanging open in an attempt to breathe or scream or both, but there was no sound. She was running out of time.

"GET OFF HIM!"

With little thought, she jabbed the fiery stick into the snake and held fast, gagging at the burnt leather smell that began to fill the air. Finally, its hold slacked and Connor fell to the ground, his head bouncing off the tree's roots. Abby had to resist the urge to immediately see to him. The snake was still around.

As if on cue, it coiled up in front of her, hissing and striking at her weapon, driving her back and away from Connor, whose back was arched in a futile attempt to take in a breath. Wait. There. Connor's spear was just beyond where he lay. She needed to get that spear. Abby began shove the flames toward the serpent repetitively. It dodged, rising up a few more feet to hiss loudly. That was the opening she needed. She jammed the stick into its mouth and ran, diving to latch onto the end of Connor's weapon. She heard when it had shaken itself free and knew it would be on her in no time. She rolled over and shoved the spear upward, turning her head from the spray of blood. Breathing wildly, she opened her eyes. The sharp tip was buried just below the snake's bottom jaw, its forked tongue dripping with saliva and blood as it dangled from its open mouth. Abby let the body fall sideways with a 'thud' and one last gurgling twitch before it stilled completely. She clambered to her feet and ran back to Connor.

"Connor!"

He was so still now, his eyes rolling in an attempt to stay open. Though he seemed to be taking in some air, there was a disturbing wheeze that made her wonder exactly how much he was getting. He responded to her voice, a hand lifting toward her only to fall back to his stomach, just over a large bruise that was undoubtedly from the snake's tail. He had certainly hit his head, judging from the gash that was bleeding freely down into his right eye. There was blood on his teeth and tongue and Abby prayed he wasn't bleeding internally.

She didn't know what to tend to first. Was anything broken? Would the cut need stitches? She found her hands moving restlessly from one part of him to another, suddenly feeling very weak and powerless.

"Connor, stay with me." She pleaded, wiping the blood away from his eye. He couldn't die. He just couldn't. She couldn't do this…be here without him. She couldn't go home without him. "Connor! Connor!"

He suddenly gasped, eyes rolling back again before he stilled.

"CONNOR!"

"Connor, hand me that file, will ya?"

He looked up at the man in the doorway of the lab and then all around his desk. It was difficult to determine which file out of the myriad of them he had collected. "This one, professor?" He tried his luck and snatched the one on top.

"That's the one." The older man flipped through the documents as Connor watched.

Something was amiss. He just couldn't put his finger on it… "Anything I can help you find, professor?" He pinched the front of his shirt and began to fan it to and from his chest. Since when was his lab this hot? Cutter glanced up briefly, but went right back to the file in his hand.

"Pull up everything you have on the artifact."

"Helen broke it." Where did that come from? The artifact was safe in the lab. He could see it from where he was sitting. He shook his head and wiped sweat from his eyes. "I'm sorry, professor… I just don't feel… I'm not myself." He was typing away now, but could feel Cutter moving closer.

"It's not your fault, Connor."

"Professor?" Cutter was standing beside him now and before Connor could question, he was yanked out of his chair and into an embrace. He was very confused…and very, very hot.

"Connor, I'm so proud of you. Please stop trying to carry all this weight on your own." His hold tightened and Connor's eyes widened.

"Professor… I… I can't breathe…"

"It's time to wake up, Connor."

The young scientist closed his eyes tightly.

"Connor. Wake up. WAKE UP!"

His eyes snapped open. He was still so hot and he still couldn't breathe. Everything was so bright and so loud. Where was he? Fire. Dirt. Leaves. Branches. Blue. That blue. Those eyes. Abby.

"Hey. Hey, hey…" She was right there, her face clear now. "Connor, you're okay." She placed a gentle hand on his chest. "Slow it down. Just breathe." His eyes screwed shut, ragged breaths hissing through clenched teeth. She smoothed his hair and sat up on her knees to hover over him, taking his hand to place it against her chest. "Breathe like I am, Connor."

He opened fever-bright eyes to meet her worried gaze. If he just concentrated on those beautiful blue eyes…

"That's it. Slow and steady. In and out." Abby smiled at him, an unchecked tear falling on his cheek. It was working. His breaths began to sound less labored, the wheeze finally setting. "Thank God, Connor. I thought I was going to… that you were…." She fell forward, her forehead against his and he closed his eyes to relish the coolness of her touch. "You have a fever." The zoologist sniffed and sat back, trying to discretely wipe away tears while searching through her bag. "I don't think anything is broken but you have bruises for days." She turned back and began to peel back bandages to check the wounds underneath. The gash on his arm was a little infected, but the fever meant his body was fighting it.

"Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded feebly, still concentrating on breathing. It didn't feel so much like a reflex anymore.

"We need to sit you up a little. You need to hydrate."

He hadn't really thought about it. Crap. He was really thirsty. Thirsty enough to move? Not so much. She was leaning across him now, pulling one of his arms across her shoulder to get her hands under his back. Damnit, she was going to make him, wasn't she?

"On 3, yea?"

He hesitated but nodded. This was going to hurt.

"1…2…3!"

Abby pulled up and had that cry come from him?

"Oh, God, Connor. I'm sorry!"

Yep, it had. That sounded horrible. Pathetic, even.

"Are you okay?"

His hand trembled almost uncontrollably as he held up a finger, eyes closed, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. His ribs were protesting the movement, nearly sending him back to hyperventilating. After a moment, he allowed his hand to fall and nodded.

"Here, drink this." She held the small, dented cup up to his cracked lips. "Slowly, okay?" The cool water was a satisfying heaven to his parched throat. He would have continued to gulp greedily if Abby had not taken it away. "Not too fast. You'll make yourself sick."

"Sorry…" He croaked, coughing briefly. Her cool hand was on his cheek and he found himself leaning into her touch.

"You can have more, but small sips, yea?" She offered the cup, but did not let go until he nodded that he was heeding her warning. Abby began lying out bandages, tape, and ointments, counting what they had left of each. "We're running a little low." She whispered, almost hoping he didn't hear. She put on her most encouraging smile before shuffling on her knees back toward him. Connor was gingerly sipping the water, gazing at her over the cup's rim. He looked like death warmed over.

"Let's get these all changed so you can rest." Sitting on her knees just beside his right hip, she peeled away the bandage on his forehead. Connor had lowered the cup to his lap, staring into the water as he traced his thumb across the rim. She poured a small amount of antiseptic onto a torn piece of her shirt and hovered it over the wound, licking her lips nervously. "This is going to sting a bit."

He flinched the moment the fabric touched the tender flesh, squeezing his eyes shut as they watered from the edges. Abby felt terrible. She hated hurting him…so she did the only thing that seemed right at that moment. She leaned forward and began to gently blow. Moments passed before she pulled back to meet those deep brown eyes, red and wet.

"Abby…"

She went with the only thing that seemed right at that moment, too, and gently pressed her lips to his. This time, it felt different. There was no hesitance or resistance. A trembling hand took hold of her wrist – not to hold her, but to ground him, it seemed – as he opened his mouth under hers, inviting her to take more. She traced the line of his lips with her tongue before obliging. They continued until the need to breathe could no longer be ignored. Even then, they lingered, lips inches apart.

Abby broke the silence, clearing her throat and turning to grab the antibiotic ointment. She smiled but allowed it to disappear before turning back to him, gently applying the medication to the wound. Connor hid his confusion behind the cup of water, needing to remind himself again to take small sips.

"Connor?"

"Yep."

"Thank you for not dying."

Confusion was replaced by a fleeting smile. "You're welcome."

Some prayers find an answer
Some prayers never know
We're holding on and letting go

TBC