Misplaced Trust 4/5(?)
Title: Misplaced Trust
Author: Tay_21
Fandom: Primeval
Characters/Pairings: Connor/Philip Burton (non-con), mentions of Connor/Abby
Words: Chapter 4: ~3,800
Rating/Warnings: R (non-con, torture, dark)
Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended.
Spoilers: Everything up to the ending of 4.7, continues from when Connor got in the car with Burton.
Beta: deinonychus_1 Thanks a ton. You're the best theropod around. I swear. :-)
Recipient: wilde_shade
Prompt: Can I have something creepy? Please? Pretty please? I'm a terrible person, and would adore some manipulative!Phillip. Rough non-con/dub-con would rock my pervy little world. Nothing terribly melodramatic, but dark!fic would be welcome. I love Abby/Connor though and hurt/comfort done right makes me all squishy inside. Happy/hopeful ending would be more than welcome so long as there's no cheesy sexual healing.
Author's Note: Written for Primevalathon as a pinch hit. This gave me a good excuse to finish the bunny that's been gnawing at my brain since Philip put his hand on Connor's shoulder and told him to get in the car at the end of series 4. I didn't want it to be overly porny though. So I hope this works for your prompt.
Summary: What Philip wants Philip gets, Connor should have know that...
Chapter 4
Abby sat in the menagerie staring down at the mammoth. She spent most of her time here of late. She could cry here and the creatures never judged her. Connor had been missing for almost ten weeks. She knew the statistics. He was probably dead. No! She couldn’t believe that. Surely she would have felt it if something had happened to Connor.
Wouldn’t she?
She wasn’t so sure any more. Things had been strained between them before his disappearance. She’d blamed Philip, something in her gut told him he was guilty, that he had something to do with it. That hideously fake, plastic, benign smile he always wore on his face was just a façade. So what if she didn’t have any proof. She knew, and he’d admitted that he was the last person to see Connor. Philip Burton had been very cooperative with the investigation, too cooperative in Abby’s opinion. Becker and Matt had both sworn to her they’d get him back. Philip had stated that Connor had been fiddling with one of the anomaly devices, and had speculated that Connor had simply disappeared through an anomaly of his own making. Abby didn’t buy that for a minute. Still, that hadn’t stopped her from going to every anomaly call hoping he’d show up. She had descended into such a deep depression that Lester had ordered her into therapy.
She leaned her head on the cool glass of the window looking into the menagerie. She was so lost without him. Why had she been so snappish with him? She should have listened to him, validated him. She should have given him the benefit of the doubt. Fresh sobs swept over her. What if she never saw him again? What if he really was gone… for good this time? She couldn’t bear the thought of that.
Five hours later Matt and Becker found her curled up on the floor of her lab in the menagerie still sobbing. Jess had located her and sent them to get her. No amount of consoling from the two would help. Connor was gone and she didn’t know how to move forward. She didn’t know how to be her without him. He was a part of her; she wasn’t whole without him. No one noticed her vibrating phone and the message indicator light flashing in the corner…
! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * !
Connor sat in his lab staring at all the data and mechanical kit in front of him. Philip had made him a deal seven weeks ago, and Connor had lived up to it… until now.
The deal was one of compromise. Connor had been given a choice: he could continue to fight and resist, stay in the dungeon-like cell and be the plaything of Philip’s men, all of them; or he could cooperate, have his own lab and direct his own work in exchange for staying with Philip. It turned out that the nice bedroom that had been promised was Philip’s. Connor had been horrified at first, but the trade-off was better than being almost constantly brutalized and raped by Philip’s goons.
Philip had pounded into Connor every single night for the first couple of weeks, occasionally even tying him down, just to drive the message home: Connor was his; he belonged to Philip. Every morning Connor was expected to reciprocate with a show of loyalty in the form of a blowjob. He’d broken and they both knew it.
Connor had retreated in on himself. He worked harder than ever in an attempt to distract himself from his waking nightmare, taking solace in the argument that he was continuing Cutter’s work. Philip, for his part, held nothing back, save giving Connor contact with the outside world. Connor was given every piece of equipment he’d asked for, all of it top of the line. His research was progressing nicely because of it.
After the first few weeks and Connor’s show of progress and cooperation, Philip backed off their nightly trysts. Instead, Connor slept curled up next to him with Philip’s arm possessively and oppressively draped over him.
Nights were the worst for Connor, he had never been a light sleeper, but now he found he had terrible trouble sleeping. And, with Philip there, he didn’t even have the luxury of tossing and turning. He thought about Abby a lot during those long dark nights. As much as he tried to keep her locked away in his mind, because he missed her so desperately, he also took solace from her smiles that his mind’s eye conjured. In his head, he tried to remember what she sounded like, what she tasted like, and what she smelled like; but it was getting harder and harder.
As time continued and the weeks passed, the sexual activity with Philip mercifully slowed to once every other day, then once every few days, to now about once a week. Connor was always tense and on edge, like a dog waiting to be kicked again. Fear and depression were his constant companions. He had stopped hoping for rescue; no one was coming. He wasn’t even sure anyone was looking. It didn’t matter; they’d never find him. Not unless he did something. But, if he did something and got caught… Could he survive what ever they would do to him? Did he want to survive any more?
These were the questions he’d been wrestling with for the past few weeks. He hadn’t really been able to do anything about it until this afternoon. And then, he’d made a snap decision.
His first major invention had been the anomaly detector, a Sat-Nav, as Leek had called it. This was almost the opposite, more of a homing beacon/mobile phone. He couldn’t dial, but he could send out a signal on a frequency that should ping Abby, Matt, or Becker’s phone… he hoped. Hell, he’d even take Lester at this point. He’d finished it, constructing it to resemble a detector, set the frequency, and then pushed the button, not even letting himself debate it. He couldn’t live like this, a prisoner and a plaything.
After pushing the button he’d gone on about his work as if he hadn’t just broken the deal that kept him from being gang-raped again and again. His fingers trembled slightly as he worked on a new device, one that was almost done. It was an anomaly predictor; he almost had the pattern finished. It was revolutionary. He knew it would have taken him years to develop had it not been for the resources provided to him by Philip and the driving focus he’d so kindly instilled in him over the past two-and-a-half months. He felt guilty about betraying him. Despite everything that had happened, Connor was no Judas; even now duplicity didn’t sit well with him. It also didn’t help that now that the act was done he was terrified that they’d catch him and hurt him again. He didn’t want to go back in that dungeon cell.
Connor jumped a few minutes later when the door to his lab opened up and Philip came in. Connor gave him a nervous smile and then swallowed hard when Philip was followed by, not just his ever-present body guard, but two more burly thugs of his as well. They knew, he thought, panicking. He looked down at the worktop to try and ignore the fear coursing through him; in the process he accidentally upset a stack of papers and a glass of water.
“You seem a little jumpy this afternoon, Connor. You also look a little pale. Well, paler than normal, that is,” Philip said as he walked over behind Connor and rested his hands on Connor’s shoulders. Connor flinched and then winced at his inability to pretend as if nothing had happened.
“Now, now,” Philip demurred. “I thought we were past all that.” Philip rubbed Connor’s shoulders lightly and nuzzled the back of his neck with his nose. “Tell me, Connor, is there anything you need? Anything you are lacking in this lab?” he asked quietly.
Connor shook his head and swallowed again. “No, sir.”
“Have you wanted for food or water since we came to our little arrangement?”
“No, sir.”
Philip licked his neck behind his ear then continued. “Is there a problem with your accommodations? Am I not good enough for you? Don’t I make sure that you are just as satisfied as I am every time we’re together? I’ve been very careful not to hurt you, haven’t I?” Philip’s hand slid down to Connor’s left wrist.
Connor swallowed convulsively, this couldn’t be good. “Y-Yes, sir.”
Philip’s demeanour changed in an instant. His right fist tangled into Connor’s hair, yanking his head back, while the hand holding his wrist wrenched it up behind Connor’s back, twisting it painfully. “Then why did my sensors detect a communications transmission from your lab which possesses no such means of communication?” Philip growled into Connor’s ear.
Connor cried out as Philip pulled his arm up further. “Please, you’re hurting me. My arm, you’re going to break it. Stop. Ow, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think. I’m sorry.” Connor screamed as Philip twisted his arm even further. There was a tell tale snap as Connor’s arm fractured.
“Perhaps you need reminding of who is in control here. Maybe hurting you isn’t enough motivation!” He bent Connor over the table and held him there, his left arm still bent up behind him and throbbing. “You know, Connor, I go to the ARC on a fairly regular basis. I could arrange for an accident to befall Miss Maitland. Or, better yet, I could have her brought here. I’m sure my men are tired of only having your worn out arse as a prospect to bugger. I bet they’d enjoy your tight little girlfriend. She practices yoga, right? Very flexible, imagine what we could do with that? It might be good to have a new toy to play with around here.”
“No! Please, I swear, it won’t happen again. Please, leave Abby alone. She’s been through enough. I swear… I’ll dismantle it. I’ll never use it again.”
“Show me. Show me what you built and what you did with it.”
Philip yanked Connor upright and released his arm while still keeping a hold of his hair. Connor reached into a drawer with his good arm and pulled out his disguised beacon device. One of the guards snatched it from him and broke it open.
“It sends a distressed signal on a particular frequency. I was aiming for Abby, but I don’t even know if it worked. I just pushed the activator button and then put it away. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Please, just don’t hurt Abby. I’ll forget about her. I’ll never think about her again. I know what I did was wrong-“
Philip shook him by his hair, the motion jarring his fractured arm. “Shut up you idiot!” Philip snarled. “My god, Connor, you really are a genius, aren’t you? A stupid one, but a genius nonetheless.”
He shook Connor a little more and Connor cried out in pain. Burton just shook him harder.
“Take him downstairs and strip him. You can play with him for the rest of the day.” Philip almost threw Connor to his thugs. “Oh, and make sure he sees the error of his ways. Use the cane this time. I’m going to go make a few phone calls.”
! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * !
Connor knelt on the floor completely restrained. He couldn’t have moved from his forced position even if he’d wanted to. His arms were once again cable-tied behind him and pulled up by a hook, keeping the excruciating pressure on his fractured arm. His ankles were bound together, but his knees were spread slightly. An iron collar, like the chains he’d worn when Philip first locked him up, was locked around his neck and connected to the floor via a short chain. They’d gagged him with a ball gag and blindfolded him. His pale skin was now decorated with bright red weals all over him along with a handful of double-dotted burn marks. Still, nothing had been done to him that would result in his death. He breathed steadily in and out and waited for his tormentors to return.
Would they have Abby? Would Philip have already hurt her? Would they do to her what they had spent several hours doing to him… again? Would they make him watch? Make him listen to her scream while they violated her? How could he have been so stupid and careless again? He didn’t know Philip had still been maintaining a presence at the ARC. He’d assumed Philip had cut ties with the project once he’d acquired Connor. He should have known better. Philip had a contingency plan for everything. He seemed to always be 20 steps ahead. And now Abby would pay the price for his ignorance. Despair overwhelmed him once more. There was no way out. No escape. It was hopeless, truly hopeless.
It had been hours. He had no way of knowing for certain how long it had been, but he instinctively knew it had been a long time. He wondered why they’d left him alone for so long. His whole body hurt from what they’d done to him and the position he’d been kept in. Sweat dripped off of him and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. He desperately hoped they’d come and at least let him out of his kneeling posture. He didn’t dare let himself cry, it might further hinder his ability to breathe.
The door to his cell opened and he couldn’t stop the small whimper that escaped him nor the cringe that swept through his body.
“Connor?” came a small sweet voice. A voice he dreaded hearing and a voice he had wanted to hear more than anything. “Oh, my god! Connor!”
He shook his head and began to cry. No! She couldn’t be here. They can’t have got her. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! He couldn’t keep the waves of emotion at bay any longer. He’d lost everything and now Abby would lose everything too. They’d break her like they’d broken him. Her fierce spirit would be crushed. It was over. He didn’t think he could bear to watch it. He knew couldn’t survive it.
! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * !
Abby ran to where Connor knelt in his chains. Tears blurred her vision as she took in the sight of his bruised and battered body. His left arm looked oddly shaped and was a violent shade of purple. He was sobbing, and uncontrollably so. My God, what have they done to him, she asked silently. Abby knelt next to him and gently placed her fingers on his shoulder. He flinch and her tears began to slip down her cheeks.
“It’s all right, baby. I’m here. Just hang on a moment. It’s going to be OK,” Abby soothed. She worked to try and get him untied, but the moment she moved his arm he cried out in agony. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
She reached under his chin and unclipped the chain holding his head so close to the ground. She then unfastened the blindfold over his eyes. Lastly she unfastened the gag in his mouth and carefully pulled out the ball from between his teeth.
“Sweetheart?” She stroked his forehead and brushed his lank hair back from his face. “Please, baby. Look and me and tell me what’s wrong? Connor. Open your eyes.”
Connor’s eyes fluttered and then his chocolate-brown eyes opened and he stared up at her. Tears were already overwhelming him. She was really there, holding his face in her hands.
“Abby? Abby, what are you doing here? Did he get you too? I’m so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I never wanted this for you. Have they hurt you?”
“Shh, Connor. No one’s got me. I’m here to get you. What’s wrong with your arm?”
“Burton… broke it… today, yesterday… I don’t know, but it hurts. I can’t move it.”
Abby leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’m going to get you out of here. You’re coming home with me. But, I need to get your arms free. It’s going to hurt. Just look at me. Keep looking at me, OK?” Connor nodded.
Slowly Abby reached up and started to lift his arms off the hook. He gasped and then screamed out as his fractured arm moved upward. Abby leaned forward and kissed him. Soft and sweet… distracting. She moved her lips against his and swallowed his cries of agony down.
It took only a few seconds and then it was done. He collapsed onto his side and sobbed. So much pain, he was so exhausted. Abby moved to his side to try and get the cable-tie undone. It wouldn’t budge. She was panicking. Slow down, she told herself. Just think. She reached into her boot and pulled out the tiny, but sharp, 4 inch knife she carried with her ever since she was stuck in the Cretaceous.
“Bastard!” she spat as she worked to cut the tight ring of plastic around Connor’s wrists without cutting him too. The movement caused him to cry our again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve got to get these ties off of you. Can you walk?” Abby glanced at his feet for the first time and realized they were secured to the floor by iron cuffs and a short length of chain just as his neck had been. She had no idea how to get the cuffs off, but she reached down and unclipped the chain that held him to the floor.
“Matt. Becker. I’ve found Connor, but we’re going to need help. I can’t get him out of here on my own and he needs medical assistance immediately, tell Reardon to hurry. He’s too weak to walk I think.” There was an edge of panic in Abby’s voice that was not usually there.
“We’re coming to you, just keep him as comfortable as you can. We’ll be with you in a moment,” came Matt’s ever-calm voice.
There was a loud bang, followed by a low rumble and dust and bits of debris rained down on Abby who held herself protectively over Connor’s still form. He was trying to move as little as possible. His arm was swollen and the tiniest bit of pressure or movement sent spikes of agony through his entire body.
“Damn it!” Becker shouted into the comm. “He’s rigged the place with booby-traps. It’s a wonder she even made it to Connor at all. Abby, we’re going to be delayed a bit in getting to you. Stay where you are. Do not attempt to move either Connor or yourself. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you, just don’t let the building fall on us. Get here as quick as you can, please. He’s not talking. Connor’s never this quiet.”
“He’ll be fine, just keep him calm,” Matt responded.
“Oh, and, Abby, keep an eye out for Burton, my men haven’t been able to locate him yet,” Becker cautioned.
“I will, but, Becker, what do I do if I see him. All I’ve got is this useless EMD and a tiny knife. I’m pretty sure if he’s armed and determined enough, that won’t be enough to stop him.”
“Abby,” Matt again, “We’re coming to you. You just worry about Connor. Becker and I will deal with Burton. Becker was just giving you the heads up.”
“Just hurry,” Abby finished.
Abby turned her attention back to Connor. His cheeks where wet with tears and he was gritting his teeth and panting from the pain, groaning occasionally. Abby set down her EMD and held his head in her lap, her back to the doorway. She stroked his shoulder gently, trying to determine where the break was. There was too much swelling. She leaned forward and kissed his neck. “I’m sorry I can’t make it all go away. I’m here though. I’m not going anywhere. It won’t be long now, help’s coming. Just stay with me, Connor. Stay with me.”
She was so focused on trying to figure out a way to get him comfortable that she never even glimpsed the tall shape that darkened the doorway behind her.
“Well, well, Abby,” Philip snarled. “I guess you found my little secret.”
“Burton!” Abby spun around to face him, instinctively grabbing her trusted knife instead of the bulky EMD, and placed herself in a defensive position in front of Connor, holding out her knife. She hadn’t missed the way Connor had flinched and squeezed his eyes shut at the mere sound of Burton’s voice. “You bastard! What have you done to him? Why? How could you? To someone like Connor of all people.”
“It’s simple really, he’s a commodity. I needed him, so I took him. I always get what I want. I have to have the best. He was the best. I attempted to get him to see things my way first, but he was insistent. He wanted to tell you lot everything so that he could stop the anomalies. I simply couldn’t have that. It took some time, but I got him to come around to seeing things my way.” Philip actually smiled. “You know, I think he’s a better lay than you would probably be. Too bad we won’t have the chance to find out if that’s true or not.”
Abby was furious and raised her knife threateningly towards him.
Burton pulled out a pistol and pointed it at her. “You should have gone for the EMD. They really are remarkable weapons. I know you all hate them, but electricity is actually quite useful. Isn’t that right, Connor.”
Connor whimpered and flinched again, keeping his eyes shut. The context of the tiny black burns all over his body suddenly hit Abby.
“You bastard. You won’t get away with this. You’ll pay.”
“I really don’t think so. I was almost done sabotaging this place. I’ll be gone before the Boy Scout and Soldier Boy get here. Odds are, none of you will make it out alive, especially you two.” Burton lowered the gun so that it was pointing at Abby’s chest.
At this close of proximity, even if he shot her first, there was a good chance that it would go right through her and into Connor. Two birds, one stone, she thought sarcastically. Burton apparently had the same idea because his smile went from a smirk to a full on predatory grin as he took aim.
Abby sucked in a deep breath and held her head high as Burton took aim. I love you, Connor, she thought silently, closing her eyes.
The reverb of the deafening gunshot echoed around off the solid stone walls in the tiny cell.
Author: Tay_21
Fandom: Primeval
Characters/Pairings: Connor/Philip Burton (non-con), mentions of Connor/Abby
Words: Chapter 4: ~3,800
Rating/Warnings: R (non-con, torture, dark)
Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended.
Spoilers: Everything up to the ending of 4.7, continues from when Connor got in the car with Burton.
Beta: deinonychus_1 Thanks a ton. You're the best theropod around. I swear. :-)
Recipient: wilde_shade
Prompt: Can I have something creepy? Please? Pretty please? I'm a terrible person, and would adore some manipulative!Phillip. Rough non-con/dub-con would rock my pervy little world. Nothing terribly melodramatic, but dark!fic would be welcome. I love Abby/Connor though and hurt/comfort done right makes me all squishy inside. Happy/hopeful ending would be more than welcome so long as there's no cheesy sexual healing.
Author's Note: Written for Primevalathon as a pinch hit. This gave me a good excuse to finish the bunny that's been gnawing at my brain since Philip put his hand on Connor's shoulder and told him to get in the car at the end of series 4. I didn't want it to be overly porny though. So I hope this works for your prompt.
Summary: What Philip wants Philip gets, Connor should have know that...
Chapter 4
Abby sat in the menagerie staring down at the mammoth. She spent most of her time here of late. She could cry here and the creatures never judged her. Connor had been missing for almost ten weeks. She knew the statistics. He was probably dead. No! She couldn’t believe that. Surely she would have felt it if something had happened to Connor.
Wouldn’t she?
She wasn’t so sure any more. Things had been strained between them before his disappearance. She’d blamed Philip, something in her gut told him he was guilty, that he had something to do with it. That hideously fake, plastic, benign smile he always wore on his face was just a façade. So what if she didn’t have any proof. She knew, and he’d admitted that he was the last person to see Connor. Philip Burton had been very cooperative with the investigation, too cooperative in Abby’s opinion. Becker and Matt had both sworn to her they’d get him back. Philip had stated that Connor had been fiddling with one of the anomaly devices, and had speculated that Connor had simply disappeared through an anomaly of his own making. Abby didn’t buy that for a minute. Still, that hadn’t stopped her from going to every anomaly call hoping he’d show up. She had descended into such a deep depression that Lester had ordered her into therapy.
She leaned her head on the cool glass of the window looking into the menagerie. She was so lost without him. Why had she been so snappish with him? She should have listened to him, validated him. She should have given him the benefit of the doubt. Fresh sobs swept over her. What if she never saw him again? What if he really was gone… for good this time? She couldn’t bear the thought of that.
Five hours later Matt and Becker found her curled up on the floor of her lab in the menagerie still sobbing. Jess had located her and sent them to get her. No amount of consoling from the two would help. Connor was gone and she didn’t know how to move forward. She didn’t know how to be her without him. He was a part of her; she wasn’t whole without him. No one noticed her vibrating phone and the message indicator light flashing in the corner…
! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * !
Connor sat in his lab staring at all the data and mechanical kit in front of him. Philip had made him a deal seven weeks ago, and Connor had lived up to it… until now.
The deal was one of compromise. Connor had been given a choice: he could continue to fight and resist, stay in the dungeon-like cell and be the plaything of Philip’s men, all of them; or he could cooperate, have his own lab and direct his own work in exchange for staying with Philip. It turned out that the nice bedroom that had been promised was Philip’s. Connor had been horrified at first, but the trade-off was better than being almost constantly brutalized and raped by Philip’s goons.
Philip had pounded into Connor every single night for the first couple of weeks, occasionally even tying him down, just to drive the message home: Connor was his; he belonged to Philip. Every morning Connor was expected to reciprocate with a show of loyalty in the form of a blowjob. He’d broken and they both knew it.
Connor had retreated in on himself. He worked harder than ever in an attempt to distract himself from his waking nightmare, taking solace in the argument that he was continuing Cutter’s work. Philip, for his part, held nothing back, save giving Connor contact with the outside world. Connor was given every piece of equipment he’d asked for, all of it top of the line. His research was progressing nicely because of it.
After the first few weeks and Connor’s show of progress and cooperation, Philip backed off their nightly trysts. Instead, Connor slept curled up next to him with Philip’s arm possessively and oppressively draped over him.
Nights were the worst for Connor, he had never been a light sleeper, but now he found he had terrible trouble sleeping. And, with Philip there, he didn’t even have the luxury of tossing and turning. He thought about Abby a lot during those long dark nights. As much as he tried to keep her locked away in his mind, because he missed her so desperately, he also took solace from her smiles that his mind’s eye conjured. In his head, he tried to remember what she sounded like, what she tasted like, and what she smelled like; but it was getting harder and harder.
As time continued and the weeks passed, the sexual activity with Philip mercifully slowed to once every other day, then once every few days, to now about once a week. Connor was always tense and on edge, like a dog waiting to be kicked again. Fear and depression were his constant companions. He had stopped hoping for rescue; no one was coming. He wasn’t even sure anyone was looking. It didn’t matter; they’d never find him. Not unless he did something. But, if he did something and got caught… Could he survive what ever they would do to him? Did he want to survive any more?
These were the questions he’d been wrestling with for the past few weeks. He hadn’t really been able to do anything about it until this afternoon. And then, he’d made a snap decision.
His first major invention had been the anomaly detector, a Sat-Nav, as Leek had called it. This was almost the opposite, more of a homing beacon/mobile phone. He couldn’t dial, but he could send out a signal on a frequency that should ping Abby, Matt, or Becker’s phone… he hoped. Hell, he’d even take Lester at this point. He’d finished it, constructing it to resemble a detector, set the frequency, and then pushed the button, not even letting himself debate it. He couldn’t live like this, a prisoner and a plaything.
After pushing the button he’d gone on about his work as if he hadn’t just broken the deal that kept him from being gang-raped again and again. His fingers trembled slightly as he worked on a new device, one that was almost done. It was an anomaly predictor; he almost had the pattern finished. It was revolutionary. He knew it would have taken him years to develop had it not been for the resources provided to him by Philip and the driving focus he’d so kindly instilled in him over the past two-and-a-half months. He felt guilty about betraying him. Despite everything that had happened, Connor was no Judas; even now duplicity didn’t sit well with him. It also didn’t help that now that the act was done he was terrified that they’d catch him and hurt him again. He didn’t want to go back in that dungeon cell.
Connor jumped a few minutes later when the door to his lab opened up and Philip came in. Connor gave him a nervous smile and then swallowed hard when Philip was followed by, not just his ever-present body guard, but two more burly thugs of his as well. They knew, he thought, panicking. He looked down at the worktop to try and ignore the fear coursing through him; in the process he accidentally upset a stack of papers and a glass of water.
“You seem a little jumpy this afternoon, Connor. You also look a little pale. Well, paler than normal, that is,” Philip said as he walked over behind Connor and rested his hands on Connor’s shoulders. Connor flinched and then winced at his inability to pretend as if nothing had happened.
“Now, now,” Philip demurred. “I thought we were past all that.” Philip rubbed Connor’s shoulders lightly and nuzzled the back of his neck with his nose. “Tell me, Connor, is there anything you need? Anything you are lacking in this lab?” he asked quietly.
Connor shook his head and swallowed again. “No, sir.”
“Have you wanted for food or water since we came to our little arrangement?”
“No, sir.”
Philip licked his neck behind his ear then continued. “Is there a problem with your accommodations? Am I not good enough for you? Don’t I make sure that you are just as satisfied as I am every time we’re together? I’ve been very careful not to hurt you, haven’t I?” Philip’s hand slid down to Connor’s left wrist.
Connor swallowed convulsively, this couldn’t be good. “Y-Yes, sir.”
Philip’s demeanour changed in an instant. His right fist tangled into Connor’s hair, yanking his head back, while the hand holding his wrist wrenched it up behind Connor’s back, twisting it painfully. “Then why did my sensors detect a communications transmission from your lab which possesses no such means of communication?” Philip growled into Connor’s ear.
Connor cried out as Philip pulled his arm up further. “Please, you’re hurting me. My arm, you’re going to break it. Stop. Ow, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think. I’m sorry.” Connor screamed as Philip twisted his arm even further. There was a tell tale snap as Connor’s arm fractured.
“Perhaps you need reminding of who is in control here. Maybe hurting you isn’t enough motivation!” He bent Connor over the table and held him there, his left arm still bent up behind him and throbbing. “You know, Connor, I go to the ARC on a fairly regular basis. I could arrange for an accident to befall Miss Maitland. Or, better yet, I could have her brought here. I’m sure my men are tired of only having your worn out arse as a prospect to bugger. I bet they’d enjoy your tight little girlfriend. She practices yoga, right? Very flexible, imagine what we could do with that? It might be good to have a new toy to play with around here.”
“No! Please, I swear, it won’t happen again. Please, leave Abby alone. She’s been through enough. I swear… I’ll dismantle it. I’ll never use it again.”
“Show me. Show me what you built and what you did with it.”
Philip yanked Connor upright and released his arm while still keeping a hold of his hair. Connor reached into a drawer with his good arm and pulled out his disguised beacon device. One of the guards snatched it from him and broke it open.
“It sends a distressed signal on a particular frequency. I was aiming for Abby, but I don’t even know if it worked. I just pushed the activator button and then put it away. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Please, just don’t hurt Abby. I’ll forget about her. I’ll never think about her again. I know what I did was wrong-“
Philip shook him by his hair, the motion jarring his fractured arm. “Shut up you idiot!” Philip snarled. “My god, Connor, you really are a genius, aren’t you? A stupid one, but a genius nonetheless.”
He shook Connor a little more and Connor cried out in pain. Burton just shook him harder.
“Take him downstairs and strip him. You can play with him for the rest of the day.” Philip almost threw Connor to his thugs. “Oh, and make sure he sees the error of his ways. Use the cane this time. I’m going to go make a few phone calls.”
! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * !
Connor knelt on the floor completely restrained. He couldn’t have moved from his forced position even if he’d wanted to. His arms were once again cable-tied behind him and pulled up by a hook, keeping the excruciating pressure on his fractured arm. His ankles were bound together, but his knees were spread slightly. An iron collar, like the chains he’d worn when Philip first locked him up, was locked around his neck and connected to the floor via a short chain. They’d gagged him with a ball gag and blindfolded him. His pale skin was now decorated with bright red weals all over him along with a handful of double-dotted burn marks. Still, nothing had been done to him that would result in his death. He breathed steadily in and out and waited for his tormentors to return.
Would they have Abby? Would Philip have already hurt her? Would they do to her what they had spent several hours doing to him… again? Would they make him watch? Make him listen to her scream while they violated her? How could he have been so stupid and careless again? He didn’t know Philip had still been maintaining a presence at the ARC. He’d assumed Philip had cut ties with the project once he’d acquired Connor. He should have known better. Philip had a contingency plan for everything. He seemed to always be 20 steps ahead. And now Abby would pay the price for his ignorance. Despair overwhelmed him once more. There was no way out. No escape. It was hopeless, truly hopeless.
It had been hours. He had no way of knowing for certain how long it had been, but he instinctively knew it had been a long time. He wondered why they’d left him alone for so long. His whole body hurt from what they’d done to him and the position he’d been kept in. Sweat dripped off of him and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. He desperately hoped they’d come and at least let him out of his kneeling posture. He didn’t dare let himself cry, it might further hinder his ability to breathe.
The door to his cell opened and he couldn’t stop the small whimper that escaped him nor the cringe that swept through his body.
“Connor?” came a small sweet voice. A voice he dreaded hearing and a voice he had wanted to hear more than anything. “Oh, my god! Connor!”
He shook his head and began to cry. No! She couldn’t be here. They can’t have got her. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! He couldn’t keep the waves of emotion at bay any longer. He’d lost everything and now Abby would lose everything too. They’d break her like they’d broken him. Her fierce spirit would be crushed. It was over. He didn’t think he could bear to watch it. He knew couldn’t survive it.
! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * ! * !
Abby ran to where Connor knelt in his chains. Tears blurred her vision as she took in the sight of his bruised and battered body. His left arm looked oddly shaped and was a violent shade of purple. He was sobbing, and uncontrollably so. My God, what have they done to him, she asked silently. Abby knelt next to him and gently placed her fingers on his shoulder. He flinch and her tears began to slip down her cheeks.
“It’s all right, baby. I’m here. Just hang on a moment. It’s going to be OK,” Abby soothed. She worked to try and get him untied, but the moment she moved his arm he cried out in agony. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
She reached under his chin and unclipped the chain holding his head so close to the ground. She then unfastened the blindfold over his eyes. Lastly she unfastened the gag in his mouth and carefully pulled out the ball from between his teeth.
“Sweetheart?” She stroked his forehead and brushed his lank hair back from his face. “Please, baby. Look and me and tell me what’s wrong? Connor. Open your eyes.”
Connor’s eyes fluttered and then his chocolate-brown eyes opened and he stared up at her. Tears were already overwhelming him. She was really there, holding his face in her hands.
“Abby? Abby, what are you doing here? Did he get you too? I’m so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I never wanted this for you. Have they hurt you?”
“Shh, Connor. No one’s got me. I’m here to get you. What’s wrong with your arm?”
“Burton… broke it… today, yesterday… I don’t know, but it hurts. I can’t move it.”
Abby leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’m going to get you out of here. You’re coming home with me. But, I need to get your arms free. It’s going to hurt. Just look at me. Keep looking at me, OK?” Connor nodded.
Slowly Abby reached up and started to lift his arms off the hook. He gasped and then screamed out as his fractured arm moved upward. Abby leaned forward and kissed him. Soft and sweet… distracting. She moved her lips against his and swallowed his cries of agony down.
It took only a few seconds and then it was done. He collapsed onto his side and sobbed. So much pain, he was so exhausted. Abby moved to his side to try and get the cable-tie undone. It wouldn’t budge. She was panicking. Slow down, she told herself. Just think. She reached into her boot and pulled out the tiny, but sharp, 4 inch knife she carried with her ever since she was stuck in the Cretaceous.
“Bastard!” she spat as she worked to cut the tight ring of plastic around Connor’s wrists without cutting him too. The movement caused him to cry our again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ve got to get these ties off of you. Can you walk?” Abby glanced at his feet for the first time and realized they were secured to the floor by iron cuffs and a short length of chain just as his neck had been. She had no idea how to get the cuffs off, but she reached down and unclipped the chain that held him to the floor.
“Matt. Becker. I’ve found Connor, but we’re going to need help. I can’t get him out of here on my own and he needs medical assistance immediately, tell Reardon to hurry. He’s too weak to walk I think.” There was an edge of panic in Abby’s voice that was not usually there.
“We’re coming to you, just keep him as comfortable as you can. We’ll be with you in a moment,” came Matt’s ever-calm voice.
There was a loud bang, followed by a low rumble and dust and bits of debris rained down on Abby who held herself protectively over Connor’s still form. He was trying to move as little as possible. His arm was swollen and the tiniest bit of pressure or movement sent spikes of agony through his entire body.
“Damn it!” Becker shouted into the comm. “He’s rigged the place with booby-traps. It’s a wonder she even made it to Connor at all. Abby, we’re going to be delayed a bit in getting to you. Stay where you are. Do not attempt to move either Connor or yourself. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you, just don’t let the building fall on us. Get here as quick as you can, please. He’s not talking. Connor’s never this quiet.”
“He’ll be fine, just keep him calm,” Matt responded.
“Oh, and, Abby, keep an eye out for Burton, my men haven’t been able to locate him yet,” Becker cautioned.
“I will, but, Becker, what do I do if I see him. All I’ve got is this useless EMD and a tiny knife. I’m pretty sure if he’s armed and determined enough, that won’t be enough to stop him.”
“Abby,” Matt again, “We’re coming to you. You just worry about Connor. Becker and I will deal with Burton. Becker was just giving you the heads up.”
“Just hurry,” Abby finished.
Abby turned her attention back to Connor. His cheeks where wet with tears and he was gritting his teeth and panting from the pain, groaning occasionally. Abby set down her EMD and held his head in her lap, her back to the doorway. She stroked his shoulder gently, trying to determine where the break was. There was too much swelling. She leaned forward and kissed his neck. “I’m sorry I can’t make it all go away. I’m here though. I’m not going anywhere. It won’t be long now, help’s coming. Just stay with me, Connor. Stay with me.”
She was so focused on trying to figure out a way to get him comfortable that she never even glimpsed the tall shape that darkened the doorway behind her.
“Well, well, Abby,” Philip snarled. “I guess you found my little secret.”
“Burton!” Abby spun around to face him, instinctively grabbing her trusted knife instead of the bulky EMD, and placed herself in a defensive position in front of Connor, holding out her knife. She hadn’t missed the way Connor had flinched and squeezed his eyes shut at the mere sound of Burton’s voice. “You bastard! What have you done to him? Why? How could you? To someone like Connor of all people.”
“It’s simple really, he’s a commodity. I needed him, so I took him. I always get what I want. I have to have the best. He was the best. I attempted to get him to see things my way first, but he was insistent. He wanted to tell you lot everything so that he could stop the anomalies. I simply couldn’t have that. It took some time, but I got him to come around to seeing things my way.” Philip actually smiled. “You know, I think he’s a better lay than you would probably be. Too bad we won’t have the chance to find out if that’s true or not.”
Abby was furious and raised her knife threateningly towards him.
Burton pulled out a pistol and pointed it at her. “You should have gone for the EMD. They really are remarkable weapons. I know you all hate them, but electricity is actually quite useful. Isn’t that right, Connor.”
Connor whimpered and flinched again, keeping his eyes shut. The context of the tiny black burns all over his body suddenly hit Abby.
“You bastard. You won’t get away with this. You’ll pay.”
“I really don’t think so. I was almost done sabotaging this place. I’ll be gone before the Boy Scout and Soldier Boy get here. Odds are, none of you will make it out alive, especially you two.” Burton lowered the gun so that it was pointing at Abby’s chest.
At this close of proximity, even if he shot her first, there was a good chance that it would go right through her and into Connor. Two birds, one stone, she thought sarcastically. Burton apparently had the same idea because his smile went from a smirk to a full on predatory grin as he took aim.
Abby sucked in a deep breath and held her head high as Burton took aim. I love you, Connor, she thought silently, closing her eyes.
The reverb of the deafening gunshot echoed around off the solid stone walls in the tiny cell.