10 Primeval drabbles.
Okay here's a surprise for my f-list, fic that isn't Doctor Who or Torchwood. These drabbles are for Primeval.
Title: Moments In Time.
Genre: Drabble fic of 10 connected drabbles.
Pairings: Nick/Helen, Stephen/Helen, and Nick/Stephen.
Rating: Drabbles vary between G and pg.
Word count: 1000 words, as 10 100 word drabbles.
Summary: Snapshots of Nick's life starting from when Helen disappeared.
A/N: Denial friendly. The things in 1x06, 2x07 don't happen, and it doesn't cover series 3. Prompt words/phrases were acquired from http://watchout4snakes.com/CreativityTools/Main/Main.aspx random word generator.
1. Apart.
Nick is used to them spending time apart, Helen's ability to lose track of time when something has captured her interest isn't new to him, so when she's a few hours late it means nothing.
A day late, and no returned calls, worry sets in. Two days; he phones the police, sure that when they find Helen she'll laugh at his overreaction.
A week becomes a month, and woodlands are searched, and people questioned, but there are no answers. A year passes, scenarios of lost or hurt replace themselves with dead, murdered, and the living hell of not knowing continues.
* * *
2. Lie to me
“She's still out there,” Nick says angrily. “You can't give up.”
“We're not closing the case,” the detective tries to reassure him. “But you have to consider she may not wish to be found.”
The chair clatters as Nick gets up, glaring, hand forming into a fist.
“Nick, don't.” Stephen catches his arm. “That won't help.”
The rain is torrential as they leave the police station, Stephen walking Nick back to the car, his arm around him. “We'll find her, I promise.”
Soaked and exhausted, Nick leans against Stephen, knowing his well meaning lies are all that's keeping him sane.
* * *
3. Gone.
They're both a little drunk; beer and whiskey providing a warming glow as they celebrate obtaining a new research grant.
They should have got food hours ago, but the campus bar is abuzz with life, while next to him Stephen is smiling, laughing; it feels like old times.
Only it's not. Helen's not with them.
“I miss her too,” Stephen says sadly, seeing Nick's expression. “I can't believe its been five years.”
“She's gone,” Nick says hoarsely, finally admitting his worse fears, grief hitting full force. “She's really gone.”
Alcohol strips away inhibitions, and he weeps, not caring who sees.
* * *
4. Spiral
Nick's hands are shaking as he lets himself back into his office, and sits down at his desk.
Everything feels like it's spiralling out of control. The last couple of days have been hectic, insane. He's seen a live Gorgonopsid, a rip in time and space, and his wife come back from the dead.
It had been Helen under the street-light, he's sure of it. But why had she run from him? It makes no sense. He's sure he should be happy, delighted that she's alive, but all there is is a cold dread that he cannot shift.
* * *
5. Snow
The air is bitterly cold and the snow thick on the ground as the last of the Hadrosaurs are herded back through the anomaly before it closes.
The danger over, Nick looks round to sees Connor about to start snowball fight with Abby. He wonders if Connor knows what he's letting himself in for.
“It'll do them good,” Ryan says, walking passed. “Burn off some of the adrenaline.”
Nick nods, knowing he could do with the same. It's crazy, frightening, dealing with anomalies, but looking at the people who are now his team he knows he'll never give it up.
* * *
6. Office:
He's a stranger in his own life. The office, his office apparently, is all glass and chromed surfaces like the rest of the ARC; it feels as alien as the prehistoric landscapes that lie beyond the anomalies.
Nothing is the same, not even Helen.
It feels like being in mourning, although nobody is dead.
Ryan is hurt, Claudia missing, his best friend has slept with his wife, and Helen would rather run the risk of being eaten by dinosaurs than stay with him.
Angry and scared, Nick sweeps a hand across his desk, scattering paperwork, before dropping to his knees.
* * *
7. Argument.
“How many times?” Nick puts his arm across the door stopping Stephen from leaving.
“A few.” Stephen turns away. “I'm sorry, I was young, stupid.”
“That's no excuse!”
“I know, I'm not saying it wasn't my fault,” Stephen says, anger rising. “I'm saying it wasn't only my fault. Helen came on to me.”
Nick glares at him, hating the fact that it's probably true.
“I didn't know she was married, not at first.” Sighing, Stephen runs a hand through his hair. “I should have told you, you're my friend.”
“You're no friend of mine!” Nick snaps, before walking quickly away.
* * *
8. Recall.
Nick watches Stephen laugh and joke with the soldiers, torn between anger and regret. He remembers when he and Stephen had enjoyed such an easy friendship, when he'd been sure that he'd known Stephen as well as he knows himself.
His hands tighten on the railing as Ryan whispers something in Stephen's ear.
Worse than the anger or regret is the jealousy. That had been the hardest part of Helen's revelation for him to face, the painful realisation that the thing that hurts him most isn't the fact that Stephen had slept with Helen, but that Stephen hadn't chosen him.
* * *
9. Too many words.
There have been too many words spoken in anger between them over the past few months. Now, sitting at Stephen's bedside, listening to the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, it all seems so stupid.
The knowledge that despite everything that's passed between them, Stephen had been willing to die for him, had shaken Nick to the core. Even now, days later, he feels as numb as he'd been when Ryan had arrived, pushed him aside, shattered the door's glass window and stun grenaded the creatures inside.
Fighting tears and exhaustion he holds Stephen's hand, and begs, “Please, wake up.”
* * *
10. Shirt.
“I don't want your pity,” Stephen says irritably, trying to button his shirt.
Nick pushes Stephen's bandaged hand away, knowing the shirt is a concession to the half healed injuries which mean dragging a t-shirt on and off is still too painful to be practical. “It's not pity.”
“Then what?”
Love or guilt, seem the most likely reasons, but Nick finds he can say neither. He leans in, voice rough with emotion, sure it's now or never. “I'm sorry.”
Stephen looks momentarily stunned as Nick's lips brush his, then he smiles. “Don't be. I think I get it now.”
Title: Moments In Time.
Genre: Drabble fic of 10 connected drabbles.
Pairings: Nick/Helen, Stephen/Helen, and Nick/Stephen.
Rating: Drabbles vary between G and pg.
Word count: 1000 words, as 10 100 word drabbles.
Summary: Snapshots of Nick's life starting from when Helen disappeared.
A/N: Denial friendly. The things in 1x06, 2x07 don't happen, and it doesn't cover series 3. Prompt words/phrases were acquired from http://watchout4snakes.com/CreativityTools/Main/Main.aspx random word generator.
1. Apart.
Nick is used to them spending time apart, Helen's ability to lose track of time when something has captured her interest isn't new to him, so when she's a few hours late it means nothing.
A day late, and no returned calls, worry sets in. Two days; he phones the police, sure that when they find Helen she'll laugh at his overreaction.
A week becomes a month, and woodlands are searched, and people questioned, but there are no answers. A year passes, scenarios of lost or hurt replace themselves with dead, murdered, and the living hell of not knowing continues.
* * *
2. Lie to me
“She's still out there,” Nick says angrily. “You can't give up.”
“We're not closing the case,” the detective tries to reassure him. “But you have to consider she may not wish to be found.”
The chair clatters as Nick gets up, glaring, hand forming into a fist.
“Nick, don't.” Stephen catches his arm. “That won't help.”
The rain is torrential as they leave the police station, Stephen walking Nick back to the car, his arm around him. “We'll find her, I promise.”
Soaked and exhausted, Nick leans against Stephen, knowing his well meaning lies are all that's keeping him sane.
* * *
3. Gone.
They're both a little drunk; beer and whiskey providing a warming glow as they celebrate obtaining a new research grant.
They should have got food hours ago, but the campus bar is abuzz with life, while next to him Stephen is smiling, laughing; it feels like old times.
Only it's not. Helen's not with them.
“I miss her too,” Stephen says sadly, seeing Nick's expression. “I can't believe its been five years.”
“She's gone,” Nick says hoarsely, finally admitting his worse fears, grief hitting full force. “She's really gone.”
Alcohol strips away inhibitions, and he weeps, not caring who sees.
* * *
4. Spiral
Nick's hands are shaking as he lets himself back into his office, and sits down at his desk.
Everything feels like it's spiralling out of control. The last couple of days have been hectic, insane. He's seen a live Gorgonopsid, a rip in time and space, and his wife come back from the dead.
It had been Helen under the street-light, he's sure of it. But why had she run from him? It makes no sense. He's sure he should be happy, delighted that she's alive, but all there is is a cold dread that he cannot shift.
* * *
5. Snow
The air is bitterly cold and the snow thick on the ground as the last of the Hadrosaurs are herded back through the anomaly before it closes.
The danger over, Nick looks round to sees Connor about to start snowball fight with Abby. He wonders if Connor knows what he's letting himself in for.
“It'll do them good,” Ryan says, walking passed. “Burn off some of the adrenaline.”
Nick nods, knowing he could do with the same. It's crazy, frightening, dealing with anomalies, but looking at the people who are now his team he knows he'll never give it up.
* * *
6. Office:
He's a stranger in his own life. The office, his office apparently, is all glass and chromed surfaces like the rest of the ARC; it feels as alien as the prehistoric landscapes that lie beyond the anomalies.
Nothing is the same, not even Helen.
It feels like being in mourning, although nobody is dead.
Ryan is hurt, Claudia missing, his best friend has slept with his wife, and Helen would rather run the risk of being eaten by dinosaurs than stay with him.
Angry and scared, Nick sweeps a hand across his desk, scattering paperwork, before dropping to his knees.
* * *
7. Argument.
“How many times?” Nick puts his arm across the door stopping Stephen from leaving.
“A few.” Stephen turns away. “I'm sorry, I was young, stupid.”
“That's no excuse!”
“I know, I'm not saying it wasn't my fault,” Stephen says, anger rising. “I'm saying it wasn't only my fault. Helen came on to me.”
Nick glares at him, hating the fact that it's probably true.
“I didn't know she was married, not at first.” Sighing, Stephen runs a hand through his hair. “I should have told you, you're my friend.”
“You're no friend of mine!” Nick snaps, before walking quickly away.
* * *
8. Recall.
Nick watches Stephen laugh and joke with the soldiers, torn between anger and regret. He remembers when he and Stephen had enjoyed such an easy friendship, when he'd been sure that he'd known Stephen as well as he knows himself.
His hands tighten on the railing as Ryan whispers something in Stephen's ear.
Worse than the anger or regret is the jealousy. That had been the hardest part of Helen's revelation for him to face, the painful realisation that the thing that hurts him most isn't the fact that Stephen had slept with Helen, but that Stephen hadn't chosen him.
* * *
9. Too many words.
There have been too many words spoken in anger between them over the past few months. Now, sitting at Stephen's bedside, listening to the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, it all seems so stupid.
The knowledge that despite everything that's passed between them, Stephen had been willing to die for him, had shaken Nick to the core. Even now, days later, he feels as numb as he'd been when Ryan had arrived, pushed him aside, shattered the door's glass window and stun grenaded the creatures inside.
Fighting tears and exhaustion he holds Stephen's hand, and begs, “Please, wake up.”
* * *
10. Shirt.
“I don't want your pity,” Stephen says irritably, trying to button his shirt.
Nick pushes Stephen's bandaged hand away, knowing the shirt is a concession to the half healed injuries which mean dragging a t-shirt on and off is still too painful to be practical. “It's not pity.”
“Then what?”
Love or guilt, seem the most likely reasons, but Nick finds he can say neither. He leans in, voice rough with emotion, sure it's now or never. “I'm sorry.”
Stephen looks momentarily stunned as Nick's lips brush his, then he smiles. “Don't be. I think I get it now.”