Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Abby/Becker (A/B/C), Jason (minor OC)
Story: Family Values
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers up through 5x03. References to canon deaths.
Author's Note: Set post-5x03, after Ego and Id. Yet another angstfest! Porn coming soon, however!
Summary: Knowing she's upset after a row with Connor, Becker's trying to track down Abby. He finds her in an unexpected place.
Family Values
“Come on, Abby!” He grumbled as her phone, yet again, went to voicemail.
He had intended to give her a ride home—and try to get out of her exactly why she’d been crying—but when he’d got free, she was nowhere to be found. And now she wasn’t answering her phone, either.
He stalked out into the ops area. Jess had gone home for the day, but Jason, on the night shift, had taken over.
“Becker!” Jason called over his shoulder. “Almost never see you these days unless you’re filling in for Harrison. What’s got you here so late?”
“Hey, Jase. You’ve not seen Abby, have you?”
Jason shook his head. “Nope. She turned in her black box before Jess left.” He glanced up at his monitors. “No reading on her anywhere, at least.” He tabbed through several CCTV feeds—most of which came up empty.
Becker looked at the screen. The only visible motion was a feed from the car park—Connor leaving the building, getting into a car with April. He sighed heavily.
“Is something wrong?” Jason frowned at him.
“A bit, yeah. Listen, I know this isn’t really procedure, but can you get a trace on her mobile?”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Becker, I—“
“Please. It’s a security issue, OK? If you want me to sign off on this, I will.”
Jason still looked sceptical, but he turned back to the monitors. Pulling up a list of staff mobile numbers, he plugged Abby’s into a network map. In just a moment, her location came up.
“Of course.” Becker said flatly. “I should’ve guessed.” Looking down at Jason, he patted his shoulder. “Thanks, mate. Owe you one.”
Jason nodded. “Glad I could help. Tell her hello for me—haven’t seen her in forever!”
Becker smiled grimly. “I will.”
Her instincts were sharp, as usual. Without even a glance, she knew he was there, coming up behind her as she sat at the graveside.
“I don’t think I ever really said goodbye.” She didn’t look up.
He crept up and sat down next to her. “It was kind of mad back then.”
She nodded.
He lay a tentative hand on her arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t know him as well as you two did. He irritated me sometimes, but he was an honorable man.”
“He was.” She smiled a little, finally looking over at him. Her eyes were swollen and her nose was red. “He was a lot more to me than I think I’ve ever said to anyone. Certainly not to Connor.”
“Hey?”
“Because of how close they were. Closer than I was…” She turned to him. “Thing is, Connor’s loss was so much greater than mine that it always just seemed like talking about how I felt would’ve just been rubbing salt in the wound.”
“Even now?” Becker frowned.
“Yeah. Especially now. But because I never talked about it, I guess I’ve never really… I dunno. Acknowledged it, maybe. My grieving's always been done through Connor. I didn’t get any of my own.” She rubbed a hand across her nose. “And it’s still there.”
He drew her close, letting her nestle into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“There were so many things I should’ve said before he… I wanted to tell him…” She stopped, and drew a deep breath. “I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me. How important it was to have him around because… well. Let’s just say I needed someone like him in my life. I needed a man like him who cared about me, and respected me, and accepted and loved me the way I am. Not…” She shivered.
Becker rubbed her back in a way he hoped was soothing. He still wondered about the details of her past, but he was starting to get it.
She at least relaxed a little at his touch. “And then he was just… gone. I never got that chance. I swore, after we lost Stephen, that I wouldn’t let that slip by anymore, but I did, and now it’s never going to happen.” She trembled a little—she was sobbed out already, but the aftershocks of it still fluttered through her.
“You know he had no family, right?” She continued. “His family was us. We were his—Connor and I—like his kids or something, maybe. Might’ve been why it took me so long to get over myself and see Connor differently. He was just… not far off from my annoying brother, y’know?”
Becker had to laugh a little—that was certainly how he’d seen Connor in the early days, too. “Yeah, I get it.”
“That’s part of what finally did it for us, though. I mean, aside from the being trapped in the past, and the… other stuff.” She flashed a warm smile at him. “We both have family issues, and we both needed him in the same kind of way. We didn’t really ever talk about it, but it was always there—linking us.”
“I can see that.”
“But then when we lost him, it was just different.“ She heaved a breath. “Well, thing is, I’m tougher than Connor is.”
“Um, yeah?” He nudged her a little, and was pleased with the small laugh he got.
“I just pushed it all down and tried to forget about it and get on with the job. But Connor—bless him—he just doesn’t have that. He’s too sensitive and sweet. He still needs what he lost then—he probably always will.” She set her jaw. “And I think that’s what’s gone wrong, now.”
“With Philip.”
“Yes.”
He stared off into space, focusing on the flitter of moonlight on the ground as the wind ruffled the trees. They were both quiet for a moment. Finally, he broached the question. “Abby, I… OK, if this is none of my business, just tell me to piss off or something, but… Connor said you were spying on him.”
She hung her head. “I was. I had to. Matt—“ she broke off. “I shouldn’t…”
“Please, Abby,” he begged, grabbing her hand. “It’s bad enough that I don’t know what’s going on with Connor. Being cut off from what’s going on with you, too... I can’t handle it.”
She looked up, studying him intently. Then she settled back onto his shoulder. “Matt knows something about what Connor’s doing for Philip. He knows there’s something really bad happening there. Danny told him that Philip was connected to Helen somehow.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t. Matt told me not to. He said you wouldn’t understand—that you’d just want to defend Connor.”
He grumbled, but he knew Matt was right.
“So he’s had me, yes, spying on Connor, trying to find out what he’s been working on so we can try to do something about it. Since Connor’s not listening to me—well, to any of us, really—we don’t have any other choice. If what he’s working on is really that dangerous, we have to find a way to stop it.”
“Stop him, you mean. Stop Connor.” The words tasted foul in his mouth.
She shuddered, and made a small, sad noise. “Yes.”
The chill of the night air suddenly soaked through to his bones, and he pulled her as close as he could. He stared at the gravestone, wishing somehow that the person laid to rest beneath it could come back, and solve this problem. It was cruel, he thought, that though she was dead, the woman who had caused so much tragedy for them already was still doing so even now. He hoped that she was, at least, having a perfectly horrid afterlife.
“Abby,” he said softly into her hair.
“Hey?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Thank you.”
She looked up at him, puzzled. “What for?”
“Just… For trusting me with this. For trusting me in general. I’ve been starting to wonder if I was losing you, and with losing Connor, too, I…” He looked away, not wanting her to see his eyes welling up.
“Oh!” She put a hand to his face, turning it toward her. He tried to blink back the tears, but it only made a few fall down his cheeks. “Becker… love…” She brushed away the drops. “No. A thousand times, no.”
He tried to smile, but couldn’t, quite.
“Do you remember when you asked whether I’d choose Connor over you?” She petted his face.
“Yeah.”
“Well, you were right, like I said then, but that’s not what’s happening, here. Yes, Connor’s pretty much all I can think about right now, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten you.” She sighed sadly. “I’ve been trying so hard to do what Matt was asking of me that I guess it seemed like I was avoiding you. And that’s… God. That’s so not what I wanted.”
A slow wave of relief finally started working its way through him.
“Look,” she said firmly, taking his hands. “This is about all of us, definitely. What we have… it means more to me than almost anything else I’ve ever done.” She bit her lip and looked down. “The thought of losing Connor to Philip, to this thing—this whatever he’s obsessed with—is chipping away at my soul a little bit every day. But if I didn’t have you, too, it would already be gone.” She looked back up, fixing him with a sincere, if somewhat watery, gaze.“You’re my family now. Both of you. And I’m deeply sorry if anything I’ve done recently makes it seem otherwise.” She crawled over, settling into his lap and wrapping her arms around him.
It still, as usual, felt ever so slightly strange to be so intimate with her without Connor around. He still felt the missing limb—and he probably always would, he guessed. Yet even though being with her felt somewhat incomplete, it was something. Something he needed, and something she needed, too. The dread of what they had to do to deal with the threat Connor’s work posed still fed a gnawing, festering little pit in his stomach, but holding her like this went a very long way toward making that feeling manageable.
After a few moments, they parted, and he petted back her hair with a slightly shaky hand. “Are you ready to say goodbye for now?” He nodded toward the gravestone.
She nodded. “I am. But I think I owe it to him to try to get Connor out of this somehow.”
“Well, then, it’s part of my duty, too, to make sure you get all the help you need on this.” He got up, and extended a hand to her. “For now, though, let’s get you home.”
She took his hand, and stood up. “You’re here, Becker,” she said quietly, and leaned up for a tender kiss. “I’m already home.”
--End--
Characters: Abby/Becker (A/B/C), Jason (minor OC)
Story: Family Values
Rating: PG
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers up through 5x03. References to canon deaths.
Author's Note: Set post-5x03, after Ego and Id. Yet another angstfest! Porn coming soon, however!
Summary: Knowing she's upset after a row with Connor, Becker's trying to track down Abby. He finds her in an unexpected place.
Family Values
“Come on, Abby!” He grumbled as her phone, yet again, went to voicemail.
He had intended to give her a ride home—and try to get out of her exactly why she’d been crying—but when he’d got free, she was nowhere to be found. And now she wasn’t answering her phone, either.
He stalked out into the ops area. Jess had gone home for the day, but Jason, on the night shift, had taken over.
“Becker!” Jason called over his shoulder. “Almost never see you these days unless you’re filling in for Harrison. What’s got you here so late?”
“Hey, Jase. You’ve not seen Abby, have you?”
Jason shook his head. “Nope. She turned in her black box before Jess left.” He glanced up at his monitors. “No reading on her anywhere, at least.” He tabbed through several CCTV feeds—most of which came up empty.
Becker looked at the screen. The only visible motion was a feed from the car park—Connor leaving the building, getting into a car with April. He sighed heavily.
“Is something wrong?” Jason frowned at him.
“A bit, yeah. Listen, I know this isn’t really procedure, but can you get a trace on her mobile?”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Becker, I—“
“Please. It’s a security issue, OK? If you want me to sign off on this, I will.”
Jason still looked sceptical, but he turned back to the monitors. Pulling up a list of staff mobile numbers, he plugged Abby’s into a network map. In just a moment, her location came up.
“Of course.” Becker said flatly. “I should’ve guessed.” Looking down at Jason, he patted his shoulder. “Thanks, mate. Owe you one.”
Jason nodded. “Glad I could help. Tell her hello for me—haven’t seen her in forever!”
Becker smiled grimly. “I will.”
Her instincts were sharp, as usual. Without even a glance, she knew he was there, coming up behind her as she sat at the graveside.
“I don’t think I ever really said goodbye.” She didn’t look up.
He crept up and sat down next to her. “It was kind of mad back then.”
She nodded.
He lay a tentative hand on her arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t know him as well as you two did. He irritated me sometimes, but he was an honorable man.”
“He was.” She smiled a little, finally looking over at him. Her eyes were swollen and her nose was red. “He was a lot more to me than I think I’ve ever said to anyone. Certainly not to Connor.”
“Hey?”
“Because of how close they were. Closer than I was…” She turned to him. “Thing is, Connor’s loss was so much greater than mine that it always just seemed like talking about how I felt would’ve just been rubbing salt in the wound.”
“Even now?” Becker frowned.
“Yeah. Especially now. But because I never talked about it, I guess I’ve never really… I dunno. Acknowledged it, maybe. My grieving's always been done through Connor. I didn’t get any of my own.” She rubbed a hand across her nose. “And it’s still there.”
He drew her close, letting her nestle into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
“There were so many things I should’ve said before he… I wanted to tell him…” She stopped, and drew a deep breath. “I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me. How important it was to have him around because… well. Let’s just say I needed someone like him in my life. I needed a man like him who cared about me, and respected me, and accepted and loved me the way I am. Not…” She shivered.
Becker rubbed her back in a way he hoped was soothing. He still wondered about the details of her past, but he was starting to get it.
She at least relaxed a little at his touch. “And then he was just… gone. I never got that chance. I swore, after we lost Stephen, that I wouldn’t let that slip by anymore, but I did, and now it’s never going to happen.” She trembled a little—she was sobbed out already, but the aftershocks of it still fluttered through her.
“You know he had no family, right?” She continued. “His family was us. We were his—Connor and I—like his kids or something, maybe. Might’ve been why it took me so long to get over myself and see Connor differently. He was just… not far off from my annoying brother, y’know?”
Becker had to laugh a little—that was certainly how he’d seen Connor in the early days, too. “Yeah, I get it.”
“That’s part of what finally did it for us, though. I mean, aside from the being trapped in the past, and the… other stuff.” She flashed a warm smile at him. “We both have family issues, and we both needed him in the same kind of way. We didn’t really ever talk about it, but it was always there—linking us.”
“I can see that.”
“But then when we lost him, it was just different.“ She heaved a breath. “Well, thing is, I’m tougher than Connor is.”
“Um, yeah?” He nudged her a little, and was pleased with the small laugh he got.
“I just pushed it all down and tried to forget about it and get on with the job. But Connor—bless him—he just doesn’t have that. He’s too sensitive and sweet. He still needs what he lost then—he probably always will.” She set her jaw. “And I think that’s what’s gone wrong, now.”
“With Philip.”
“Yes.”
He stared off into space, focusing on the flitter of moonlight on the ground as the wind ruffled the trees. They were both quiet for a moment. Finally, he broached the question. “Abby, I… OK, if this is none of my business, just tell me to piss off or something, but… Connor said you were spying on him.”
She hung her head. “I was. I had to. Matt—“ she broke off. “I shouldn’t…”
“Please, Abby,” he begged, grabbing her hand. “It’s bad enough that I don’t know what’s going on with Connor. Being cut off from what’s going on with you, too... I can’t handle it.”
She looked up, studying him intently. Then she settled back onto his shoulder. “Matt knows something about what Connor’s doing for Philip. He knows there’s something really bad happening there. Danny told him that Philip was connected to Helen somehow.”
“What? Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t. Matt told me not to. He said you wouldn’t understand—that you’d just want to defend Connor.”
He grumbled, but he knew Matt was right.
“So he’s had me, yes, spying on Connor, trying to find out what he’s been working on so we can try to do something about it. Since Connor’s not listening to me—well, to any of us, really—we don’t have any other choice. If what he’s working on is really that dangerous, we have to find a way to stop it.”
“Stop him, you mean. Stop Connor.” The words tasted foul in his mouth.
She shuddered, and made a small, sad noise. “Yes.”
The chill of the night air suddenly soaked through to his bones, and he pulled her as close as he could. He stared at the gravestone, wishing somehow that the person laid to rest beneath it could come back, and solve this problem. It was cruel, he thought, that though she was dead, the woman who had caused so much tragedy for them already was still doing so even now. He hoped that she was, at least, having a perfectly horrid afterlife.
“Abby,” he said softly into her hair.
“Hey?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Thank you.”
She looked up at him, puzzled. “What for?”
“Just… For trusting me with this. For trusting me in general. I’ve been starting to wonder if I was losing you, and with losing Connor, too, I…” He looked away, not wanting her to see his eyes welling up.
“Oh!” She put a hand to his face, turning it toward her. He tried to blink back the tears, but it only made a few fall down his cheeks. “Becker… love…” She brushed away the drops. “No. A thousand times, no.”
He tried to smile, but couldn’t, quite.
“Do you remember when you asked whether I’d choose Connor over you?” She petted his face.
“Yeah.”
“Well, you were right, like I said then, but that’s not what’s happening, here. Yes, Connor’s pretty much all I can think about right now, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten you.” She sighed sadly. “I’ve been trying so hard to do what Matt was asking of me that I guess it seemed like I was avoiding you. And that’s… God. That’s so not what I wanted.”
A slow wave of relief finally started working its way through him.
“Look,” she said firmly, taking his hands. “This is about all of us, definitely. What we have… it means more to me than almost anything else I’ve ever done.” She bit her lip and looked down. “The thought of losing Connor to Philip, to this thing—this whatever he’s obsessed with—is chipping away at my soul a little bit every day. But if I didn’t have you, too, it would already be gone.” She looked back up, fixing him with a sincere, if somewhat watery, gaze.“You’re my family now. Both of you. And I’m deeply sorry if anything I’ve done recently makes it seem otherwise.” She crawled over, settling into his lap and wrapping her arms around him.
It still, as usual, felt ever so slightly strange to be so intimate with her without Connor around. He still felt the missing limb—and he probably always would, he guessed. Yet even though being with her felt somewhat incomplete, it was something. Something he needed, and something she needed, too. The dread of what they had to do to deal with the threat Connor’s work posed still fed a gnawing, festering little pit in his stomach, but holding her like this went a very long way toward making that feeling manageable.
After a few moments, they parted, and he petted back her hair with a slightly shaky hand. “Are you ready to say goodbye for now?” He nodded toward the gravestone.
She nodded. “I am. But I think I owe it to him to try to get Connor out of this somehow.”
“Well, then, it’s part of my duty, too, to make sure you get all the help you need on this.” He got up, and extended a hand to her. “For now, though, let’s get you home.”
She took his hand, and stood up. “You’re here, Becker,” she said quietly, and leaned up for a tender kiss. “I’m already home.”
--End--