Fic: Wide Open to the Sun (Primeval, Abby/Connor, PG13)
Title: Wide Open to the Sun
Author: alyse
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing: Abby/Connor
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: For 2.04
Word Count: ~3,200
Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: After being mired in the never ending angst fest of Several Miles, I threw out a request for short, fluffy, non-angsty and happy Abby/Connor prompts. temaris wanted bubble bath post 2.04.
So here it is. Except for, you know, the short, fluffy and non-angsty part.
Thanks to aithine for the beta read.
Summary: Sometimes doors shut out everything, even what you should be letting in.
~*~
The windows of my soul I throw
Wide open to the sun.
~John Greenleaf Whittier, My Psalm
~*~
The door to Abby's flat was one of the old-fashioned wooden one. It needed a new lick of paint, and the number had slipped to a drunken angle, but she liked it - it felt solid and reliable, not like the new PVC ones that felt too flimsy, like they wouldn't keep a draught out let alone something from out of a horror film. She needed that solidity sometimes, especially when the world all around them felt like it would dissolve away at any minute. It was comforting to be able to shut that solid, peeling door behind them on those days when it felt like it wasn't just the present that changed from moment to moment but the past as well.
It was all an illusion of course - even her stout wooden door wouldn't keep out something really determined - but she'd take that illusion over the alternative any day, even if it did stick a little when it was wet.
It didn't stick when it slammed shut behind Connor. It closed firmly behind him, leaving him on the wrong side of the door - the side with Caroline. But then there was no reason for it to stick today.
It wasn't the weather that was damp and miserable.
It disturbed Rex as it banged against the frame, rousting him from wherever he'd been hiding to circle above her, chittering irritably. He'd taken refuge somewhere when Caroline had come charging up the stairs. She didn't blame him for wanting to make a run for it, not after what that bitch had done to him already today - she'd half wanted to crawl away to hide somewhere herself.
She still did.
Connor...
All that bitch had to do was crook her little finger, and he'd come running, leaving Abby behind, in spite of everything. In spite of what Caroline had done to Rex. In spite of...
She couldn't forget the look on his face as he'd rushed out, like he couldn't wait to get away - away from her, away from everything he'd said and everything he hadn't, everything he couldn't bring himself to say again.
Rex chittered again and she ignored him, burying her face in her hands, scrubbing away the salt and the dirt and the fear. He swooped lower, coming to rest on the balustrade beside her and peering up at her, his head cocked, chirruping softly, one of those weird looks on his face, the ones that made it seem as though he actually knew what the hell was going on.
He was one up on her.
But he was just a lizard; maybe a little smarter than average but anything else was just her projecting. It was too easy to forget that, get caught up in another illusion - that Rex cared more for her than as a source of food and warmth.
If he wanted warmth tonight, he'd be out of luck. She was so damned tired, and so cold her bones ached. The pain didn't stop here. Her chest was tight, constricted to the point where it hurt to breathe; the breaths that did escape came out more like sobs, thick with the weight of too much in too short a time.
She wanted to lose herself in a nice long, hot bath. Wash away the grime and the disappointment. After a bath and a nap, maybe things would start to make sense again. And Connor...
Connor loved her.
It might have mattered if he'd been able to bring himself to say it again, when things were quiet and it was just the two of them; when there was nothing life-threatening looming on the horizon to force the words out of him. But he'd chickened out as soon as Caroline had crooked her little finger and made him come running.
He could have waited. Just for five minutes more, just to let her get her balance back after blindsiding her like that, but then that was bloody typical of Connor. Not so much sweeping her off her feet as sweeping her feet out from under her and watching with that stupid, helpless 'did I do that?' look on his face as she landed on her backside.
Rex nudged her hand, sliding his head under her palm to be petted and she jumped, far too twitchy for the good of either of them. God knows how long she'd been standing there, lost in what passed for thought.
"Hey," she said softly and he mirruped again, appeased at finally having her attention, and then he was off, soaring up to his favourite perch in the rafters. She watched him for a few seconds as he started to groom himself, long tongue flicking out to slide under his wing. And then she turned towards the bathroom, moving slowly on feet leaden with exhaustion.
The clothes went straight into the wash basket. For once, her robe hung over Connor's on the back of the door, and she pulled it down gratefully, winding it tightly around herself and huddling into it for warmth as she shuffled over to the bath. The taps were cold to the touch and she struggled for a few moments, with fingers that were stiff with tiredness, to turn them on. Connor always twisted them too tightly - it was just one of those things, the subtle reminders of his presence like how he never remembered to hang the towels up neatly.
Connor had used the shower last and she straightened the towels on the radiator automatically as the hot water steamed into the old tub behind her.
She still had some of the Lush stuff Connor had bought for her birthday. It wasn't what she'd wanted - she'd been hinting around the new Panic CD but he'd gone for that old fallback of smellies instead. He really was completely oblivious sometimes, but at least he'd bought the good stuff, and in scents she liked.
There was too much choice and she ended up pulling something out at random, drawn to the bright colour of it. It fizzed when she threw it in and she watched blankly as the water foamed pinkly, sparkly bits floating to the surface. In amongst the glitter, little foil hearts bobbed up and down and her vision blurred as the tears welled up again.
Trust Connor. Bloody Connor.
Maybe she was the oblivious one.
She wiped the tears away as they fell, the salt stinging in the small cuts on her fingers from the rocks. She'd shut him down so often; maybe she'd just taken all of his words away until there was nothing but Caroline left. And she thought that Caroline was the bitch.
She sniffed hard, tilting her head back so that the tears ran down the side of her face, and rubbed at her nose impatiently. It didn't help and she finally gave up on holding herself together, snatching some toilet paper off the roll to dry her eyes and blow her nose. It didn't help, no matter how frustrated she was with herself for falling apart over Connor. Even that couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. What she needed was...
What she needed was Connor, right here, so she could knock his stupid block off for doing this to her. So she could... So she could...
It wouldn't help. There'd still be Caroline.
She hiccupped and blew her nose again, throwing the discarded tissue into the waste basket. The bath was full but now all she wanted was a cup of tea, something to warm the insides as well as the out. There was no one here to see it - Abby, in the bath with a mug while she cried her heart out over a boy.
No one would care. No one but her. And she really wanted a cup of tea - it had a habit of making everything seem a little better.
Decision made, she opened the bathroom door and ran slap bang into something that shouldn't have been there.
"What the...?"
She grabbed the door frame, her heart tripping over itself, beating double-time, hard and fast and terrified until she realised what she'd walked into. Connor. Connor, who looked almost as scared as she felt.
She took a deep breath, her heart rate slowing as the adrenalin surge eased.
"Hey," Connor said, a nervous smile slipping first onto and then off his face.
"I thought you'd gone to the theatre," she said stupidly, the 'with Caroline' going unsaid. It didn't need to be said, not when it was right there, hanging in the air between them like a bad smell.
He looked away, fingers twisting at one of the buttons on his jacket. "The theatre's off. We, um... We kind of had a bit of an argument."
"Oh?" Was she supposed to care? She didn't. Not really. Except... "You okay?"
Okay, maybe she cared a little. More than a little, maybe, even if she did still want to knock his block off for terrifying her. And for leaving her, even if he had come back.
"Hmm, what?" He blinked at her for a second before his face cleared. "No, we... well, she wasn't best happy that I wanted to give the theatre a miss." He glanced back up at her, his expression carefully neutral, and then, "Not just the theatre, really..."
Another one of those looks she couldn't read and she pulled her robe belt a little tighter, shifting uncomfortably on her bare feet. This was all uncharted water, really, and she... well, she'd been soaked enough for one day. She had no idea what to say, not when he was looking at her like that, all scared and hopeful and all sorts of other things she couldn't even begin to make out.
He wouldn't meet her eyes, his gaze darting about until it settled on a safe point, just past one of her ears.
"I... I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
It was only once he'd said it that he looked back at her, still scared. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his clothes were still creased and wrinkled. It might have been cruel, but she couldn't help but think that maybe Caroline wouldn't have put up much of a fight to make him go, looking like that.
"I'm fine," she said quietly. If she was lucky, he'd not notice that her mascara had smudged even more. But then, Connor never seemed to notice those things anyway.
He nodded, jerkily. "I just..." His voice trailed off.
"What do you want, Connor?" It came out tired, resigned rather than angry, but he still shot her a look that was mingled guilt and grief.
"I... um..." He closed his eyes, licked his lips. "I said it." She stared at him, too tired to keep track of what he was saying, and his gaze flickered down to meet her eyes before flittering away again, as jumpy as anything. "I mean... you were right. With what you thought I... oh, hell. I just..." His voice was miserable now. "I wanted you to know that."
He tried to give her a smile but it melted away again in the face of her silence, leaving him looking wretched. He looked away again, swallowing heavily, his eyes wet.
She had no idea what to say, but he solved that problem for her.
"I thought you were dead." He risked another look at her, his eyes still too bright and he blinked a couple of times rapidly, swallowing again. "All day I thought you were dead - I mean, I really thought it, Abby, we all did - and I..."
She opened her mouth and closed it again when no words came. He'd taken all of her words away, too, stolen them first with his declaration and now this and she couldn't seem to find them again.
"I thought..." He swallowed heavily again but it was too late this time to stop his tears from falling and he had to wipe his face with his sleeve. "Sorry." The word came out raspy as he still wouldn't look at her, not directly.
"It's okay," she said numbly. "I'm sorry." And that was stupid, because it wasn't like she'd intended for him to think she was dead or anything.
He nodded jerkily, wiping at his face again before giving her a watery smile. "Me too." And then he took a deep breath, rubbing both hands over his face before looking her straight in the eye and saying, "And I'm sorry about what I said." Her heart froze for a second but he continued on, hurriedly, "About our argument. I said... I said some things that were stupid and mean and I'm sorry. And I thought..." His voice broke again, and he had to look up, away from her, blinking back the tears that still threatened to fall, "And I thought that those were the last things I said to you... And..."
"Oh, God, Connor." That snapped her out of immobility and she stepped in closer, hugging him hard, not caring about the mascara smeared on her face or the salt roughness of his clothes against her skin. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I am."
He pulled her close, his body shaking, and held her for a long moment, his face pressed against her hair. She closed her eyes and leant into him.
He drew back too soon, letting go of her and giving her another wavering smile as he wiped at his face again. "We're a pair, aren't we?"
She smiled, a twitchy little agreement, feeling the tear tracks itching on her skin but not wanting to wipe them away just yet, not when it might set Connor off again. She wanted to reach out for him again - grab his jacket, hold his hand. Anything just to keep her balance and keep him close.
Her fingers brushed against his sleeve and he swayed a little, head ducking until a strand of his dark hair fell forward, over his temple.
"Connor..." The word came out soft and quiet again, just a breath that he could ignore if he wanted to. "Why... why did you say...?"
He flushed and looked away, not answering her. Maybe it was the wrong question - she had so many, but they were too elusive for her. She couldn't capture the thoughts long enough to put them into words. The only question that would come was, "Why weren't you going to say it again?"
She thought he wasn't going to answer that either but he finally took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, before saying, slowly, "When we got back through... When you were talking to Lucien and, you know, you said..."
She looked at him blankly and he twitched, his eyes sliding to hers again and then away, his fingers now twining together nervously. "The bit about me... me not being your boyfriend."
"You're not," she pointed out, and bit her lip as Connor flinched, wishing she could take the words back, whether they were true or not. All she could do was clarify, a little bitterly, "You're Caroline's boyfriend."
He reached up to scratch his neck, his face flushing, stealing a sidelong glance at her as a little of the tension eased from his frame. "Yeah, well. I wouldn't be so sure about that." He shrugged, his smile this time sheepish rather than as terrified as it had been. It was still a little cracked around the edges, and she knew it would mirror hers if she could find her smile again. "She... um... wasn't too happy when I said I wanted to make sure you were okay. And that... you know, that was kind of more important than some silly show."
Oh.
"Oh."
His face dropped and then his mouth twitched again, his gaze tracking over her face, but there was no humour in his smile at all this time, just a kind of quiet and tired sadness. His eyes were still wet and she still couldn't find the words. "I should, um... Your bath's getting cold." Another quick flash of a smile, all awkwardness.
She'd missed something, some cue, and, damn, this was hard.
"Oh. Oh, right." She glanced back at the pink water and when she turned back to Connor, he'd already taken a step away from her and she had to fight not to follow him, not to grab his sleeve and pull him back to her.
"Connor..."
He stopped again to look back, his face wistful and his eyes sad. It broke her heart. She couldn't...
She reached for him again, his fingers wrapping coldly around hers as he stared down at her, a slight frown between his eyes.
"Did you mean it?" she whispered, and his eyes widened.
He'd held onto her, had refused to let go of her even as his own grip on the rock failed. Even as she'd begged him - begged him - to let go so that he wouldn't be dragged over with her. And the thought of it, the thought of pulling him down, the thought of him dying, Connor dying, with her, had terrified her more than anything.
But he couldn't let her go. He loved her that much. She didn't need to hear him say it to know what to do.
She couldn't let him fall. She wouldn't let go either.
His lips parted and then closed, looking as scared now as he had been then. All he could do was give her a brief, terrified nod, the look in his eyes more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him.
She smiled up at him, squeezing his fingers and feeling him press back in response. "It's okay," she said softly, smiling at him again, catching the reflexive smile he threw back and holding it to her, letting it steady her. "We can talk about it later, okay?"
He nodded numbly, mustering up another small smile for her from somewhere, and she squeezed his fingers again before letting go of them, swallowing unsteadily.
Connor cleared his throat. "How about I make us a nice cup of tea?"
She laughed - she couldn't help it. It was such a mirror of her own thoughts. "Yeah. Yeah, that would... that would be lovely, Conn."
He smiled back, warm and sweet; steadier now, if a little damp around the edges. He had such a lovely smile, sometimes; one that was solid and stuck with her, shutting everything else out.
She took a deep breath and stepped out into the unknown, trusting in him to catch her.
"And then," she said, her heart hammering in her chest, but giddily this time, like being up a height and knowing that the whole world was at your feet. "Then... maybe you could wash my back?"
For a second he froze, the expression on his face growing steadily brighter, more hopeful, until it dazzled. And then he reached for her, holding on tight and not letting her go.
This was it. If they fell, they'd fall together.
The End
Author: alyse
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing: Abby/Connor
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: For 2.04
Word Count: ~3,200
Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: After being mired in the never ending angst fest of Several Miles, I threw out a request for short, fluffy, non-angsty and happy Abby/Connor prompts. temaris wanted bubble bath post 2.04.
So here it is. Except for, you know, the short, fluffy and non-angsty part.
Thanks to aithine for the beta read.
Summary: Sometimes doors shut out everything, even what you should be letting in.
~*~
The windows of my soul I throw
Wide open to the sun.
~John Greenleaf Whittier, My Psalm
~*~
The door to Abby's flat was one of the old-fashioned wooden one. It needed a new lick of paint, and the number had slipped to a drunken angle, but she liked it - it felt solid and reliable, not like the new PVC ones that felt too flimsy, like they wouldn't keep a draught out let alone something from out of a horror film. She needed that solidity sometimes, especially when the world all around them felt like it would dissolve away at any minute. It was comforting to be able to shut that solid, peeling door behind them on those days when it felt like it wasn't just the present that changed from moment to moment but the past as well.
It was all an illusion of course - even her stout wooden door wouldn't keep out something really determined - but she'd take that illusion over the alternative any day, even if it did stick a little when it was wet.
It didn't stick when it slammed shut behind Connor. It closed firmly behind him, leaving him on the wrong side of the door - the side with Caroline. But then there was no reason for it to stick today.
It wasn't the weather that was damp and miserable.
It disturbed Rex as it banged against the frame, rousting him from wherever he'd been hiding to circle above her, chittering irritably. He'd taken refuge somewhere when Caroline had come charging up the stairs. She didn't blame him for wanting to make a run for it, not after what that bitch had done to him already today - she'd half wanted to crawl away to hide somewhere herself.
She still did.
Connor...
All that bitch had to do was crook her little finger, and he'd come running, leaving Abby behind, in spite of everything. In spite of what Caroline had done to Rex. In spite of...
She couldn't forget the look on his face as he'd rushed out, like he couldn't wait to get away - away from her, away from everything he'd said and everything he hadn't, everything he couldn't bring himself to say again.
Rex chittered again and she ignored him, burying her face in her hands, scrubbing away the salt and the dirt and the fear. He swooped lower, coming to rest on the balustrade beside her and peering up at her, his head cocked, chirruping softly, one of those weird looks on his face, the ones that made it seem as though he actually knew what the hell was going on.
He was one up on her.
But he was just a lizard; maybe a little smarter than average but anything else was just her projecting. It was too easy to forget that, get caught up in another illusion - that Rex cared more for her than as a source of food and warmth.
If he wanted warmth tonight, he'd be out of luck. She was so damned tired, and so cold her bones ached. The pain didn't stop here. Her chest was tight, constricted to the point where it hurt to breathe; the breaths that did escape came out more like sobs, thick with the weight of too much in too short a time.
She wanted to lose herself in a nice long, hot bath. Wash away the grime and the disappointment. After a bath and a nap, maybe things would start to make sense again. And Connor...
Connor loved her.
It might have mattered if he'd been able to bring himself to say it again, when things were quiet and it was just the two of them; when there was nothing life-threatening looming on the horizon to force the words out of him. But he'd chickened out as soon as Caroline had crooked her little finger and made him come running.
He could have waited. Just for five minutes more, just to let her get her balance back after blindsiding her like that, but then that was bloody typical of Connor. Not so much sweeping her off her feet as sweeping her feet out from under her and watching with that stupid, helpless 'did I do that?' look on his face as she landed on her backside.
Rex nudged her hand, sliding his head under her palm to be petted and she jumped, far too twitchy for the good of either of them. God knows how long she'd been standing there, lost in what passed for thought.
"Hey," she said softly and he mirruped again, appeased at finally having her attention, and then he was off, soaring up to his favourite perch in the rafters. She watched him for a few seconds as he started to groom himself, long tongue flicking out to slide under his wing. And then she turned towards the bathroom, moving slowly on feet leaden with exhaustion.
The clothes went straight into the wash basket. For once, her robe hung over Connor's on the back of the door, and she pulled it down gratefully, winding it tightly around herself and huddling into it for warmth as she shuffled over to the bath. The taps were cold to the touch and she struggled for a few moments, with fingers that were stiff with tiredness, to turn them on. Connor always twisted them too tightly - it was just one of those things, the subtle reminders of his presence like how he never remembered to hang the towels up neatly.
Connor had used the shower last and she straightened the towels on the radiator automatically as the hot water steamed into the old tub behind her.
She still had some of the Lush stuff Connor had bought for her birthday. It wasn't what she'd wanted - she'd been hinting around the new Panic CD but he'd gone for that old fallback of smellies instead. He really was completely oblivious sometimes, but at least he'd bought the good stuff, and in scents she liked.
There was too much choice and she ended up pulling something out at random, drawn to the bright colour of it. It fizzed when she threw it in and she watched blankly as the water foamed pinkly, sparkly bits floating to the surface. In amongst the glitter, little foil hearts bobbed up and down and her vision blurred as the tears welled up again.
Trust Connor. Bloody Connor.
Maybe she was the oblivious one.
She wiped the tears away as they fell, the salt stinging in the small cuts on her fingers from the rocks. She'd shut him down so often; maybe she'd just taken all of his words away until there was nothing but Caroline left. And she thought that Caroline was the bitch.
She sniffed hard, tilting her head back so that the tears ran down the side of her face, and rubbed at her nose impatiently. It didn't help and she finally gave up on holding herself together, snatching some toilet paper off the roll to dry her eyes and blow her nose. It didn't help, no matter how frustrated she was with herself for falling apart over Connor. Even that couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. What she needed was...
What she needed was Connor, right here, so she could knock his stupid block off for doing this to her. So she could... So she could...
It wouldn't help. There'd still be Caroline.
She hiccupped and blew her nose again, throwing the discarded tissue into the waste basket. The bath was full but now all she wanted was a cup of tea, something to warm the insides as well as the out. There was no one here to see it - Abby, in the bath with a mug while she cried her heart out over a boy.
No one would care. No one but her. And she really wanted a cup of tea - it had a habit of making everything seem a little better.
Decision made, she opened the bathroom door and ran slap bang into something that shouldn't have been there.
"What the...?"
She grabbed the door frame, her heart tripping over itself, beating double-time, hard and fast and terrified until she realised what she'd walked into. Connor. Connor, who looked almost as scared as she felt.
She took a deep breath, her heart rate slowing as the adrenalin surge eased.
"Hey," Connor said, a nervous smile slipping first onto and then off his face.
"I thought you'd gone to the theatre," she said stupidly, the 'with Caroline' going unsaid. It didn't need to be said, not when it was right there, hanging in the air between them like a bad smell.
He looked away, fingers twisting at one of the buttons on his jacket. "The theatre's off. We, um... We kind of had a bit of an argument."
"Oh?" Was she supposed to care? She didn't. Not really. Except... "You okay?"
Okay, maybe she cared a little. More than a little, maybe, even if she did still want to knock his block off for terrifying her. And for leaving her, even if he had come back.
"Hmm, what?" He blinked at her for a second before his face cleared. "No, we... well, she wasn't best happy that I wanted to give the theatre a miss." He glanced back up at her, his expression carefully neutral, and then, "Not just the theatre, really..."
Another one of those looks she couldn't read and she pulled her robe belt a little tighter, shifting uncomfortably on her bare feet. This was all uncharted water, really, and she... well, she'd been soaked enough for one day. She had no idea what to say, not when he was looking at her like that, all scared and hopeful and all sorts of other things she couldn't even begin to make out.
He wouldn't meet her eyes, his gaze darting about until it settled on a safe point, just past one of her ears.
"I... I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
It was only once he'd said it that he looked back at her, still scared. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his clothes were still creased and wrinkled. It might have been cruel, but she couldn't help but think that maybe Caroline wouldn't have put up much of a fight to make him go, looking like that.
"I'm fine," she said quietly. If she was lucky, he'd not notice that her mascara had smudged even more. But then, Connor never seemed to notice those things anyway.
He nodded, jerkily. "I just..." His voice trailed off.
"What do you want, Connor?" It came out tired, resigned rather than angry, but he still shot her a look that was mingled guilt and grief.
"I... um..." He closed his eyes, licked his lips. "I said it." She stared at him, too tired to keep track of what he was saying, and his gaze flickered down to meet her eyes before flittering away again, as jumpy as anything. "I mean... you were right. With what you thought I... oh, hell. I just..." His voice was miserable now. "I wanted you to know that."
He tried to give her a smile but it melted away again in the face of her silence, leaving him looking wretched. He looked away again, swallowing heavily, his eyes wet.
She had no idea what to say, but he solved that problem for her.
"I thought you were dead." He risked another look at her, his eyes still too bright and he blinked a couple of times rapidly, swallowing again. "All day I thought you were dead - I mean, I really thought it, Abby, we all did - and I..."
She opened her mouth and closed it again when no words came. He'd taken all of her words away, too, stolen them first with his declaration and now this and she couldn't seem to find them again.
"I thought..." He swallowed heavily again but it was too late this time to stop his tears from falling and he had to wipe his face with his sleeve. "Sorry." The word came out raspy as he still wouldn't look at her, not directly.
"It's okay," she said numbly. "I'm sorry." And that was stupid, because it wasn't like she'd intended for him to think she was dead or anything.
He nodded jerkily, wiping at his face again before giving her a watery smile. "Me too." And then he took a deep breath, rubbing both hands over his face before looking her straight in the eye and saying, "And I'm sorry about what I said." Her heart froze for a second but he continued on, hurriedly, "About our argument. I said... I said some things that were stupid and mean and I'm sorry. And I thought..." His voice broke again, and he had to look up, away from her, blinking back the tears that still threatened to fall, "And I thought that those were the last things I said to you... And..."
"Oh, God, Connor." That snapped her out of immobility and she stepped in closer, hugging him hard, not caring about the mascara smeared on her face or the salt roughness of his clothes against her skin. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I am."
He pulled her close, his body shaking, and held her for a long moment, his face pressed against her hair. She closed her eyes and leant into him.
He drew back too soon, letting go of her and giving her another wavering smile as he wiped at his face again. "We're a pair, aren't we?"
She smiled, a twitchy little agreement, feeling the tear tracks itching on her skin but not wanting to wipe them away just yet, not when it might set Connor off again. She wanted to reach out for him again - grab his jacket, hold his hand. Anything just to keep her balance and keep him close.
Her fingers brushed against his sleeve and he swayed a little, head ducking until a strand of his dark hair fell forward, over his temple.
"Connor..." The word came out soft and quiet again, just a breath that he could ignore if he wanted to. "Why... why did you say...?"
He flushed and looked away, not answering her. Maybe it was the wrong question - she had so many, but they were too elusive for her. She couldn't capture the thoughts long enough to put them into words. The only question that would come was, "Why weren't you going to say it again?"
She thought he wasn't going to answer that either but he finally took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, before saying, slowly, "When we got back through... When you were talking to Lucien and, you know, you said..."
She looked at him blankly and he twitched, his eyes sliding to hers again and then away, his fingers now twining together nervously. "The bit about me... me not being your boyfriend."
"You're not," she pointed out, and bit her lip as Connor flinched, wishing she could take the words back, whether they were true or not. All she could do was clarify, a little bitterly, "You're Caroline's boyfriend."
He reached up to scratch his neck, his face flushing, stealing a sidelong glance at her as a little of the tension eased from his frame. "Yeah, well. I wouldn't be so sure about that." He shrugged, his smile this time sheepish rather than as terrified as it had been. It was still a little cracked around the edges, and she knew it would mirror hers if she could find her smile again. "She... um... wasn't too happy when I said I wanted to make sure you were okay. And that... you know, that was kind of more important than some silly show."
Oh.
"Oh."
His face dropped and then his mouth twitched again, his gaze tracking over her face, but there was no humour in his smile at all this time, just a kind of quiet and tired sadness. His eyes were still wet and she still couldn't find the words. "I should, um... Your bath's getting cold." Another quick flash of a smile, all awkwardness.
She'd missed something, some cue, and, damn, this was hard.
"Oh. Oh, right." She glanced back at the pink water and when she turned back to Connor, he'd already taken a step away from her and she had to fight not to follow him, not to grab his sleeve and pull him back to her.
"Connor..."
He stopped again to look back, his face wistful and his eyes sad. It broke her heart. She couldn't...
She reached for him again, his fingers wrapping coldly around hers as he stared down at her, a slight frown between his eyes.
"Did you mean it?" she whispered, and his eyes widened.
He'd held onto her, had refused to let go of her even as his own grip on the rock failed. Even as she'd begged him - begged him - to let go so that he wouldn't be dragged over with her. And the thought of it, the thought of pulling him down, the thought of him dying, Connor dying, with her, had terrified her more than anything.
But he couldn't let her go. He loved her that much. She didn't need to hear him say it to know what to do.
She couldn't let him fall. She wouldn't let go either.
His lips parted and then closed, looking as scared now as he had been then. All he could do was give her a brief, terrified nod, the look in his eyes more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him.
She smiled up at him, squeezing his fingers and feeling him press back in response. "It's okay," she said softly, smiling at him again, catching the reflexive smile he threw back and holding it to her, letting it steady her. "We can talk about it later, okay?"
He nodded numbly, mustering up another small smile for her from somewhere, and she squeezed his fingers again before letting go of them, swallowing unsteadily.
Connor cleared his throat. "How about I make us a nice cup of tea?"
She laughed - she couldn't help it. It was such a mirror of her own thoughts. "Yeah. Yeah, that would... that would be lovely, Conn."
He smiled back, warm and sweet; steadier now, if a little damp around the edges. He had such a lovely smile, sometimes; one that was solid and stuck with her, shutting everything else out.
She took a deep breath and stepped out into the unknown, trusting in him to catch her.
"And then," she said, her heart hammering in her chest, but giddily this time, like being up a height and knowing that the whole world was at your feet. "Then... maybe you could wash my back?"
For a second he froze, the expression on his face growing steadily brighter, more hopeful, until it dazzled. And then he reached for her, holding on tight and not letting her go.
This was it. If they fell, they'd fall together.
The End