Connor was starting to feel the effects of all the movement he'd been doing. His arms were getting stiff and the pain was getting worse. He'd taken some painkillers, but it wasn't taking effect. Walking down the hallway of the ARC, he cringed at the pain on his chest that ran down to his waist. The X that C. had cut into him was the hardest to deal with. It being partly on his stomach and on the front of his shoulders, the wound kept reopening a lot which caused a lot of bleeding. C. was dead, but there was no way Connor could forget the scars he'd left.

He flinched at the pain that shot through the cut on his stomach, his hand pressing against it automatically. He groaned in agony and stopped walking, slumping forward. Connor knew he needed to get some rest, but Lester had just instructed him to fix the A.D.D. and if he didn't then Lester might possibly do more harm to him than the cuts were…

Trying to straighten himself up to stand straight, Connor only made the pain worse. He almost yelled in agony, and felt bile pull up from his stomach at the immensity of the pain. He swallowed it back and whined helplessly. Then he heard Dian run down the hallway to him saying, "Connor? Connor, are you okay?" She was at his side in a minute, putting her arm around his waist and pulling him up before he collapsed to the floor. He yelled at the pain that hit him yet again; this time, with the force of Dian's arm pressing into the wound, his body couldn't take the agony. He blacked out.

Connor slowly came back into consciousness. He felt the soft touch of thin fingers run down his chest, sending a shiver through him. His eyes flew open, seeing Dian standing at the side of the hospital bed he was in.

She smiled at Connor. "Hey, you're awake. I was just looking at your cuts. You should give them time to heal better before moving around too much." Pulling out the bandages, she started covering the wounds back up with fresh material.

Connor leaned his head back and clenched his jaw, fighting the feeling he got from Dian's touch. He liked it way too much when she pulled the lining of his pants down enough so she could bandage the part of the wound that was there. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think about it; obviously unsuccessfully, because he heard Dian laughing.

"Really, Con?" She shook her head, but was smiling. "Looks like you're feeling better. But, seriously, I thought you and I were past this, Connor. I thought we were past all that sexual tension." She looked down at his pants. "Obviously not. Right."

He was blushing. "Sorry…" he said.

She laughed again. "It's fine." Pausing, she looked at his face, which had turned dark red. "Uh… Connor, I know this probably isn't the best time to tell you, but… well, it's about that night we spent together when Abby was out of town…"

He blushed even more and even smiled slightly. But Dian was entirely serious, and when he noticed the way her face looked, his smile went away. "You… you don't regret it, do you?" he asked in a small voice.

"No, no… I-I love you, Connor and I don't regret what we did. It's just… it was kind of on an impulse and we didn't really think it through, you know."

"Yeah. I'm sorry… I know I pressured you into it. You know I'm not like that; I didn't mean to seem as if… I was taking advantage of you or anythin'."

"No, Connor, it's not that," she tried to explain. He was beating himself up over this when he did nothing wrong. Sighing, she decided to just tell him straight up. "I-I'm… I'm pregnant, Connor." The air was thick as silence preceded those words. She couldn't bring herself to look Connor in the eye, so she just waited for a response.

She bit her lip, waiting nervously. Almost two minutes went by before she felt Connor's familiar gloved hand rap around her own. She looked up at his face, surprised by the affection. His eyes were sympathetic and thoughtful, although she could see the evident fear hiding there as well, but he did have a small smile on his face. He looked happy and frightened at the same time… as she could have very well expected from him.

Dian smiled and stroked Connor's hand with her thumb, at the same time, a tear running down her cheek. She was just as frightened as Connor was, probably more… but so happy at the same time. She worked up the courage to speak. "So, I guess the question is now… do you regret what happened?"

He laughed as if it was a ridiculous question. "Never. I mean, I know this is complicated, but… It's not a bad thing is it? You are gonna have the baby, of course... right?"

"Of course! Absolutely," she said quickly. "I wouldn't dream of not. Connor, whether you want to help me raise this child or not… I'm still going to have it, and love it… no matter what, I would never think of not going through with having this baby."

Connor smiled. "Good. I do want to help raise it as the father… if that's alright with you, of course. I mean… I'm probably not goin' to be the best father. Not really the best role model for a kid, but…"

"Connor, it's just as much yours as it is mine. It is your baby; of course I want you to be a part of its life." She paused for moment. "…and mine, too. I want you to be a part of my life, Con."

He laughed again. "I never wanted you to leave in the first place." They both laughed then.

"Right. So where do we go from here?" Dian asked.

Connor inhaled deeply and wiped a tear from his eye that he hadn't noticed was there. "Uh… I dunno. Should we tell someone about it? Do we… get married or…?"

"Well, I think we should just wait a while; see how things work out, and let ourselves get used to the idea of having a baby, you know?"

He nodded and then laughed at the thought. "Wicked... a little mini-me running 'round; can you imagine?" He was starting to get excited about the thought of it. "I mean, it's a little unethical the way we're having it… but still."

"At least we love each other. We could actually be proper parents… if you want."

"Yeah! Of course." He smiled.

She looked away. "What about Abby?" she whispered.

He clenched his jaw, reminded of the complications. How was this supposed to work? He didn't love Abby any less… what was wrong with him? To love two women at the same time; there had to be something wrong with him. "Dian, I-"

Suddenly, and quite inevitably, they heard the loud rustling of people from outside, and someone running down the hallway towards this room. The door flung open and Danny was standing there, looking panicked. All he said was, "It's Helen… she's back from the dead."

Mike woke up, and the first thing he saw was Nick lying on the bed, curled into a ball. He must've jumped up there sometime during the night. Mike laughed and ran a hand over the small rodent, as if it was a cat. Nick squeaked in his sleep, whiskers twitching.

Mike slung his feet over the edge of the bed and got up, stretching. When he got to his door, there was a note hanging on it. He plucked it off and began reading: Mike, gone to the ARC. Taken Connor with me. Should be back before dawn. Love, Abby. That was weird… it was 8 in the morning, already past dawn. He shrugged it off and headed for the kitchen.

Strangely enough, he didn't see Sid, Nancy or Rex anywhere. Usually they ran to him in the morning for food. He blinked the sleep out of his eye and yawned soundlessly, heading for the coffee pot. Pushing all the tea stuff out of the way, he poured water into the coffee maker and started the brew. Connor and Abby rarely ever drank coffee; they thought it tasted too bitter, and they preferred tea. But Mike hated tea; he couldn't stand the thought of not having coffee in the mornings.

Yawning again, he waited for the brew to finish. He flinched upon seeing a moving shadow out of the corner of his eye. When he turned his head, he saw the shadow move again; it was a human shadow, which meant there was someone in the flat. Mike swallowed, frozen where he stood. He had to think quickly.

Spotting a knife on the counter, he grabbed it in his hand and forced his legs to move slowly towards the living room. When he peered around the corner into the living room, he immediately saw a figure standing there in the dim lighting; he couldn't really make out who it was because of how darkly lit the room was. He just reacted automatically, hurling the knife forward through the air at the figure with as much force as he could manage.

Mike's heart was beating fast against his ribs. He quickly flipped the light switch on to reveal the man still standing there, eyebrows shot up and eyes scanning over Mike. The man looked towards the wall behind him where the knife had been plunged into. Going over to it, he attempted to pull it out, but it wasn't budging. "Hah… you have a very strong throw, kid."

The man was short, no more than 5feet 3inches. He looked about 30 years old; he had light red hair and pale skin. His voice came out in an Irish accent that was mixed with British.

Mike cleared his throat. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?"

"Ah! And American too!" The man was even more impressed. "Me name's Shamus McLachlan. I'm here on orders from my… client, let's say." He smiled with perfectly white teeth. Shamus was wearing a long trench coat over a dim blue t-shirt and khaki pants.

Mike entered the room a little more, cautiously. "And, uh… who is your client?"

"Client confidentiality… I'm not allowed to say. You see, I'm in the business of private hiring… in other words, people hiring me to do certain things for them. Some want me to deal them drugs… some want me to" He pulled the knife out of the wall and twirled it in his fingers. "get rid of people…" Shamus laughed deviously. "In this case, it's neither. No, this case has been quite a unique one, indeed." He went to the couch and sat down comfortably.

"But that doesn't explain why you're here."

"It does, actually. My client paid me to come here and tell you, Michael… tell you about the people you've been living with. The truth about these people." He smiled.

"Alright, cut the bullshit, buddy. What the hell are you getting at?"

"These people you trust. Connor Temple and Abby Maitland. They work for the ARC. Do you know much about the ARC, Michael?"

"No," he replied plainly.

"Well, let me tell you something… the ARC is responsible for killing the human race. They wipe us all out! Here's something I bet you don't know about your good friend Connor Temple… he murdered your father."

Mike was stunned by the accusation. He didn't believe it. "No… no, you're lying. Connor wouldn't have done that."

"You think he wouldn't! But in fact he did, Mike. Murdered him in cold blood." Shamus got up and went to Mike. "But, I'm here to protect you, Michael. I can help you. These people are bad people and they're using you. You have to trust me… yeah?"

Mike didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to believe or what to do; but he just couldn't think that Connor would kill his father. "Prove it," he demanded.

Shamus' mouth twitched, he was obviously getting annoyed. "I will, son… I will. Just trust me, alright? I know the truth and I promise… I will protect you from these people." He smiled.

Mike hesitated and then nodded. He was starting to believe this man, for now he would remain cautious until he got proof that Connor killed his dad… if he got proof.

Alex gritted his teeth, his hands shaking as if he was resisting the urge to pull the trigger and send a bullet through Cutter's skull. His nose started to bleed as he fought whatever was controlling his brain and telling him to kill Cutter. All he managed was to move the gun downward before pulling the trigger and releasing the bullet. But, he hadn't moved it out of range of Cutter.

The bullet pierced into Cutter's flesh, ripping into his chest, just below the collarbone, causing him to scream in agony. Falling backwards, he found himself landing on a cold hard floor that wasn't the same pavement he'd just been standing on. He looked up, holding his wounded shoulder, and saw the large flashing light of an anomaly. He must've fallen through it, but where did it come from?

"Oi!" he heard someone shout. "There's another one! And a man just came out of it!"

Trying to hold on to conscience, Cutter watched the now blurry people run towards him, one of which he recognized as Captain Becker; the Captain Becker from the alternate reality though. Everything went black as the blood loss closed out all consciousness…

TBC in Chapter 6!

So, yeah... I added yet another awesome character. And you may now think "Holy hell, it's Helen Cutter!" ;)

Cutter is shot, under his collarbone, which doesn't leave much room for recovery... I know, I know, I shouldn't make him die a second time. sorryz.

And, can we say "Poor Connor!" I felt sorry for him while I was writing his scene of agony... he's been hurt too many times. :(

I'm going to give a bit of a hint as to what is to come soon... someone horrible comes back... someone that has a simple masterplan, and is out for revenge. You think you know who it could be? perhaps you do, but I hope not because then that means i'm not doing my job correctly. ;)

Please review! Reviews are NEEDED and DEMANDED! with respect of course. ;D