Title: Just a Few Miles Down the Road
Rating: PG 13
Warning: Angst, abuse of timelines, mention of canon deaths
Word Count: 2,324/ 33,600 approx
Genre: Drama/Angst
Summary: Abby was happy here, settling back in as though nothing had happened. As though Danny wasn't still MIA, as though Sarah hadn't died trying to save them.
Abby had forgotten them.
Connor would never forget.
Set sometime early in Season Four.
Burning up, Soon be home, only just a few miles down the road.
I can make it, I know I can
You've broke the boy in me,
But you won't break the man!
Take me where my future's lying
"The problem is," Helen said one afternoon, "we don't know exactly where the ripple started."
They were in the Cretaceous, watching his younger self attempt to hunt. It was early in That Year, judging by the slight stiffness in his movements and the state of his beard, but Connor didn't know exactly when. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been with Helen; they'd jumped timezones and seasons and day/night divides so often his body had simply stopped trying to compensate.
"I don't understand why we can't just send them home. You've got the remote, we could do it easy."
Below them, the boy was so absorbed in studying a plant he completely missed the two Bagaceratops running past behind him, and Connor winced. How did he even survive to make it home?
"We could do that," Helen agreed. "But you've already been here a while. We need to prevent you coming here at all."
"Well, then don't get captured by Christine's man."
She considered him for a moment. "Alright. Let's try that."
They waited long enough for the changes to take effect. Connor still didn't understand that; he thought once they changed something the effects should be instantaneous, but Helen said no. Some changes were reabsorbed by the timestream - if they killed Hitler, Nazi Germany would rise under someone else - and sometimes it took a little while for the effects to ripple through.
When she thought it was ready Helen took him to the Permian Anomaly. "Don't be too long," she warned him. "I won't wait for you."
"No, I don't suppose you will," he agreed, stepping through.
The two soldiers on duty snap to when he steps out. Connor raises his hands, waiting for them to recognise him, but they don't calm. If anything, they're getting louder and more demanding.
"Alright, guys, it's just me," he protests. They have to know who he is; he and Helen haven't done anything that could affect his inclusion in the Project.
One of the soldiers grabs his shoulder, shoving him to the ground. Connor goes, too startled to resist, and then he's being straddled and his wrists are being cuffed far too tightly. He struggles, more out of shock than any belief he can escape, and gets a cuff to the head that leaves him seeing stars.
The soldiers hold a quick, urgent conversation over his head, finally hauling him to his feet. Connor sags heavily, waiting for one of their grips to loosen.
They drag him to a nearby Jeep. One of them, the one on Connor's left, lets go of him to open the doors; Connor plants his feet, shoving against the other with all his strength. He succeeds in tearing loose, but the man is between him and the Anomaly and he has to backpedal.
It's a step too far; the other soldier is on him, driving the barrel of his gun into Connor's stomach. His head meets the second guard's knee on the way down and blackness rushes in.
He wakes up as they yank him out of the Jeep in the ARC's yard. His ribs protest as he draws a breath, his wrists and shoulders ache and his head is pounding. He isn't bleeding, though, and he can tell from the feel his ribs aren't broken or even cracked. That's an improvement over a lot of missions.
The soldiers hurry him inside, almost yanking him off his feet in their hurry. Connor keeps up, just about. The corridors are all but empty, and the couple of people he sees are inevitably soldiers. They all give him wide berths, as though he has something contagious.
They drag him into the operations room. One of them kicks the back of his leg and he crashes to his knees, biting back a yell of pain.
"Mr Temple."
Oh...blast. He sits back on his heels, keeping his face as still as possible.
Christine Johnson, dressed as always to kill, sashays towards him. Connor only glances at her before turning to look around the room. He recognises only one of the thoroughly cowed-looking tech staff, and none of the soldiers.
"Welcome home," Christine says, coming to a halt a couple of feet in front of him.
Connor ignores her, craning back as far as he can. He isn't sure - this is the first ARC, and the office is above him and at a terrible angle - but he thinks he can see Sarah, watching with one hand pressed against her mouth.
No sign of Becker. No sign of Danny. No sign of Lester.
No sign of Abby.
The guard on his left hits him and he turns his attention back to Christine.
"How nice of you to join us," she says mildly. "Where is the Artefact?"
"The what?" he says, genuinely surprised. He hasn't thought about the Artefact, except to bemoan its loss, since Helen smashed it. "Oh, that."
"The Artefact, Mr Temple. You do realise I can have you tried for treason?"
"That won't get you anything, will it?"
She sighs, overly patient. "And your little girlfriend?"
Panic seizes him for a moment, and he almost doesn't hear her continue, "Where is she? Off cavorting somewhere with Quinn, I suppose."
Connor shrugs, forcibly calming himself down, but he knows she's seen his reaction. Her eyes narrow, studying him intently.
"You don't know where she is, do you."
He shakes his head. It's true enough; he has no idea where this world's Abby might be.
"And the Artefact?"
"Destroyed."
"You're lying," she breathes. "Dear Professor Cutter's last bequest? You'd never destroy it."
"I didn't. But it is destroyed. You don't get to speak Cutter's name."
"Oh, am I disrespecting your dead mentor? How careless of me. Why, it's almost like spitting on his legacy..."
She steps closer, catching his hair to yank his head back. Connor goes with the move, sweeping one leg around to knock her off her feet.
He can't do any real damage, tied as he is, but her screams are pretty satisfying.
Connor looks up as he's dragged away. Sarah has both hands pressed against the glass, watching him. He smiles, deliberately, and she returns the smile a little shakily.
The cell is dark, cold, and boring. There was a lot more kicking and punching before he'd been thrown in here, but they haven't broken anything except maybe a finger. Connor thinks maybe that's a bad sign, if they're being careful to keep him healthy.
But he remembers running on a broken ankle to escape a Raptor. Christine's going to be surprised if she tries to break him.
He occupies himself by mentally reciting the code for his database. It's familiar enough to be comforting, and it's been just long enough since he played with it that he needs to concentrate on it, which of course is the point.
The lights flare up and he lifts a hand to his eyes. The door to the cell opens, someone steps in, and the door closes. Connor doesn't move, waiting for the lights to dim again or his eyes to adjust.
Sarah is watching him when he finally looks up. She's standing with her back to the door, pressed against it.
"Morning," he says softly.
"ConnorConnor." She drops to her knees beside him, touching his face lightly. "What's...what are you doing here?"
"Hanging around. What's happened, Sarah?"
"Why aren't you with the others? What happened to the plan?"
"I don't know."
She tilts his head gently, studying the bruise rising over his ear. "That looks nasty."
"It's fine, it doesn't matter. Sarah..." He catches her hands, tugging her around in front of him. "What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
He grimaces, letting go of her hands and letting his head rest against the wall. "Do you remember...we told you about Nick, about Claudia and Jenny, right?"
"Yes," she says warily. "I don't really understand it, but you told me about it."
"None of us understood it, that isn't important." He waves it away. "I'm not who you think I am."
"You're a different Connor,” she realises. “Not our...where did you come from?"
"Through the Forest of Dean - we were testing something out, and I left from my reality and came back to this one. What's happening? Johnson's dead in my world."
Sarah winced, glancing at the door. "She won't like that," she murmurs. "When did that happen?"
"Um..." He tries to remember the date. "About a month after Jenny left," he says finally. "Where is she?"
"Jenny's fine, Johnson can't touch her. Too high up in Whitehall. She can't do anything for us, but she's fine."
"Good," he murmurs. "Look, I think the split point is that mission we took into the future, to rescue Jack. Did that happen here?"
"Yes. A week or so after that Lester was dismissed and reassigned to some paper-pushing job, and Christine was appointed in his place. You three ran with the Artefact - Becker got a warning to you - but he couldn't get to me."
"Where's he?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since then - Captain Wilder took him away somewhere. Christine doesn't let me leave. She thinks you - Connor and the others - will come back for me, and she'll be able to get the Artefact."
“She hasn’t hurt you?”
“No. She...no. Connor, I don’t think she’s sane.”
Connor laughs softly. “Yeah, we’ve known that for a while.”
“What happened to her in your time?”
“Helen Cutter fed her to a Future Predator.”
Sarah winces. “Sounds like Helen. Where is my Connor?”
“I dunno. I think he’s gone. We wondered about that with Nick, but we never really figured it out.”
“He’s just...gone? What will the others think?”
Connor shrugs helplessly. “Sarah, I really don’t know. We never came up with any answers.” He glances at the door. “Whatever she asks me, I can’t tell her - I don’t know anything about this timeline. I can’t answer anything.”
“There’s no one to come after you?”
“No. They’re gone, now.”
It hits him for the first time, then. Even if he changes his mind now, there’s no way for him to go home. He’s trapped in this world.
Sarah pretends not to see him wipe at his face, studying the wall over his shoulder until he gets back in control. “Did they hurt you?” she asks finally, touching his cheek again.
“Nah. I’ve had worse.”
She nods. “So. Tell me about your future.”
They talk for a while. Sarah shifts to sit next to him, pressed against him from shoulder to hip. Mostly Connor makes stuff up; he doesn’t want to tell Sarah about her own fate, Matt and Jess’s existence, or the PPP. He knows the cells are wired, after all, and there’s no way Christine is stupid enough to put them together and then not listen in. But he knows enough about prehistory to spin convincing stories - or, at least, Sarah doesn’t call him on it, just listens and nods and laughs in the right places.
The lights flare up again. Sarah presses her head into his shoulder, so she doesn’t see the door opening or the woman standing there. She feels Connor tense up, though.
"Time to go," the newcomer orders briskly.
"It didn't work," Connor says, rising to his feet. Sarah scrambles up with him, completely bewildered.
"I know it didn't work, that's why I'm here. We really can't hang around, Connor."
"Connor, that's Helen Cutter," Sarah protests. "What’s going on?"
"I can't explain right now, Sarah, just come with us."
"Uh uh," Helen says. "She isn't coming.”
"What? Helen..."
"There's nowhere for her to go. You know that."
"She's alive."
"Here. Not where we're going. Leave her and let's go."
Connor stares at Sarah, paralysed. "I can't..."
"Yes, you can, just move!" Helen snatches at his collar, hauling him out into the corridor. Sarah stumbles after them, but Helen locks the door before she can get through. "Not you, sweetheart."
"Helen," Connor protests. "Christine'll kill her if we leave her here."
"Soon as we get back, there won't be a here here. You know that. Now come on, or our ride’s going to leave without us."
"Connor?" Sarah calls, high and frightened. "Connor, what are you doing?"
"I'm fixing it," he breathes. "I'm making it right. I'll make it right for you, Sarah, I promise." He backs away, watching until he can't see her anymore, and then turns and follows Helen out of there.
Helen brought them to just after she'd disappeared the first time. Wisely, she took him to an isolated cabin, left money on the table and vanished, promising to be back 'later'.
Connor spent the time writing down everything he could remember, both from his own timeline and from the one they'd just left, and recreating what he could remember of Cutter's probability Matrix and the Artefact's display. When Helen finally came back, almost a week later, he was staring at the Matrix he’d formed.
“Looks good,” she said, dropping her backpack by the door and coming to eye it. “Are you sure you only saw the Artefact working once?”
“Nick was building a model.” He didn’t look at her.
“He always was intuitive.” She tweaked one of the strands. “Ready to try again?”
“We left Sarah to die.”
“You’re trying to save Sarah. Save all of them. You know that.” She considered him. “I knew you couldn’t handle it. Where do you want me to drop you off?”
“What?”
“You could stay here, I suppose, but you’d have to be very careful not to meet anyone you know. Or you can go back to your own time. I can get you there before you ran off, no one needs to know anything...”
“I can do it.” He pushed to his feet, taking a step away from the table. “I can do it, Helen. What’s next?”
“Next?” She smiled. “Next we kill my husband.”