Fic: If the Present Is Killed (1/3)
Sep. 24th, 2012 06:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thelibraniniquity posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tli_productionsTitle: If the Present Is Killed
Fandom: Primeval
Summary: There's a Victorian woman being debriefed in the ARC and a Romanov-era potential psychopath on the loose in modern day London. As far as Stephen's concerned stranger things have happened (like Jenny).
Characters: Becker/Stephen, Jess, Emily, Burton, Lester, Matt, Abby/Connor; references to and appearances by others, including OCs.
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~5300
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
explodedpen and fredbassett
Spoilers: Through s4 only.
Warnings: References to violence, character deaths and multiple timelines.
Author's Notes: A much belated fourth in a series, following React to Contact, Dipt Into the Future and The Past Won't Last. A fifth installment is in the planning stages. The title again comes from "House of Love" by East 17. Huge thanks toexplodedpen and lady_drace for the usual handholding and support.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
1
It's a dark and stormy night. Wind whips through the undergrowth and heavy rainfall dulls all but the sharpest senses. Even so it's impossible to miss the sight of a strange creature moving slowly on the ground. A lone human woman struggles to make a path. Her clothes are dirtied and worn through, and short brown hair is plastered around her head. One arm is cradled against her chest and the other waves about, ineffectually trying to shield both her face and her injury from the elements.
Any sound she makes is swallowed by the storm, but she knows she's being watched – even if predators can't smell the dried blood on her arm she's still an eyesore.
She can't afford to slow down any more.
Her uninjured arm catches in a tangle of vines. She swears, just loud enough to be heard over the wind, and attempts to pull herself free. When that fails she carefully reaches around with her other arm, pulls a knife out of her pocket and begins to hack away at the vines. She frees herself but the pain in her arm is growing unbearable and she's breathing heavily.
She looks around, trying to find a place to shelter for a few hours. Instead she finds shards of light hanging in the air at the base of a nearby tree.
An anomaly. She thinks if she had enough energy, she might cry.
She stumbles towards it, one painful, uneven step at a time.
Finally she passes through.
Then, she passes out.
o o o o o
There's a Victorian woman being debriefed in the ARC and a Romanov-era potential psychopath on the loose in modern day London. As far as Stephen's concerned stranger things have happened (like Jenny). Hilary, on the other hand, has taken the revelation that his team leader has been hiding a person from everyone else as a personal affront.
And he won't stop pacing. Hilary's living room is roughly the size of a postage stamp, but Stephen still feels dizzy tracking him.
“Come on,” he tries again. “Don't -”
Hilary stops mid-stride, shifts to his uninjured leg, and glares at him. “Don't what? Be angry that someone I've worked with for months kept something like this hidden from me – from all of us? That -”
“So you don't trust Matt.”
“What? No. Of course I trust him.”
“So you do trust him. Just not his judgement.”
Hilary's eyes narrow. “What are you doing?”
“I'm not sure,” Stephen admits. This kind of fuzzy logic used to work with Nick, but that's not something he needs to think about now. He shrugs. “Devil's advocate, maybe. Supportive boyfriend?”
“I – how is this supportive?”
Stephen shrugs again. “Hence the question mark. Look,” he adds, and pats the sofa beside him. “Sit down, at least.”
Hilary does, deliberately leaving a couple of inches between the two of them. “I don't like being the last to know,” he says quietly.
“I know.” Stephen stares at a battered paperback on the coffee table for a few moments. “H-”
“You keep doing that,” Hilary points out. “Hesitating. You were going to call me – that – weren't you.”
It's not a question, but Stephen huffs anyway. “It's your name.”
“Not the one I use,” Hilary retorts. Then: “Why?”
Stephen chooses his words carefully. “In the Pliocene, then in the future. I needed something to hold on to.”
Hilary doesn't look convinced. “And you picked the name my mother, in a fit of sadism, gave me. You had a team back here, trying to find you. Danny, Jenny – Sarah. Even Connor and Abby.”
Stephen snorts. “Abby blamed me for Nick's death – all of them. Connor spent too much time mooning over Abby or obsessing over the artefact. Danny was strictly professional, and Sarah sided with Jenny – who I called Claudia, as you may recall.”
Hilary smirks, but it quickly fades. “And me?”
Stephen hesitates. He thinks, You introduced me to your parents and left me alone with your brother and protecting me from Christine Johnson and even reassuring me and letting me hold you after I thought the future predators had killed you and that last, desperate kiss in front of the rest of the team before Stephen had taken Connor and Abby through the racetrack anomaly to find Helen.
How he'd spent a year using precious idle moments to replay every interaction, every look and touch, the ones that he'd taken and the few that had been offered, until Becker had become Hilary and Stephen had forgotten how to think of him any other way.
But he can't remember how to put any of that into words. “You,” he says quietly, with as much expression and intent as he knows.
He thinks Hilary understands though, because he reaches out, slowly at first so Stephen can see, and takes one of Stephen's hands and turns it over and rubs a calloused thumb against Stephen's palm.
Stephen shivers, closes his eyes and breathes.
o o o o o
The next morning Stephen reads Lady Emily Merchant's debrief transcript over Jess' shoulder while she pretends he isn't doing precisely that.
“I've read your file, you know,” she says, focused on another computer screen.
Stephen blinks. He's not sure what he's supposed to say to that.
“I mean, I read it when I first joined the ARC – you know, a way of seeing what and who had come before, but I read it properly the day after you came back.”
“And you're bringing this up now because...”
Jess twists around so she's staring Stephen directly in the eye. “I like Becker,” she says with too much conviction. “I – as a friend, I mean. And I...”
Stephen waits.
“I wanted to make sure you weren't the type of person who'd take advantage of him.”
Months of solitude mean Stephen doesn't have to try hard to stay expressionless. “I am,” he admits. “But I would never intentionally hurt him.”
Jess stares at him some more, then relaxes and smiles. “Good,” she pronounces.
“Is that it?” Stephen asks.
Jess considers this for a moment. “Well, I had been wondering – just how different is your time line – your original one, I mean – to this one?”
“Different enough.”
“Claudia Brown.”
Stephen nods. “Among other things.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lester moving around his office and turns back to Jess. “There was one other... significant difference, though,” he says.
Jess follows his glance to Lester's office, and her eyes widen.
Stephen leans in and whispers into her ear.
Jess' giggles follow him all the way down the corridor and around a couple of corners until he finds the holding cells (roomier than the ones he remembers). One of the doors is guarded, and the soldier on duty gives him a sidelong look, but opens the door anyway.
“Who are you?”
Emily Merchant's voice is cool and crisp and it matches her demeanour. Firm, almost poised to attack if needed.
“Stephen Hart.”
“You work here.”
“Yes.”
She nods but doesn't take her eyes off Stephen. Her gaze flickers a couple of times, taking Stephen in and sizing him up. “What do you want?” she asks eventually.
It's a very good question – what does he want? “I read your file,” Stephen says carefully. “From the debrief.”
“And Matt told me about you.”
Back to stalemate. “Maybe I just wanted to meet you,” Stephen replies as glibly as he remembers how. “As someone else who's spent significant time living on the other side of the anomalies.”
“The gateways.”
Stephen nods. “You weren't alone though,” he continues, and watches Emily's posture tense as she realises where this is going.
“Ethan,” she says.
Stephen nods again. “Why travel with someone that dangerous?” he asks, even as half-formed images of Helen flash through his mind.
“Is that a question or an accusation?” Emily counters.
In another place or time Stephen would be smiling by now. Despite himself, he thinks he likes Emily already. He shrugs his shoulders. “I'm curious,” he admits, and is surprised when he realises it's true.
Emily doesn't look convinced, but she says: “We found him, near death from savage injuries, in a barren wasteland. Charlotte nursed him back to health and – she was a calming influence on him.”
“How dangerous is he?”
Emily shakes her head. “It depends on what he wants.”
Stephen stares at her. “What does he want?”
The hesitation is brief, but noticeable. “I don't know. I thought he wanted revenge on me – he blamed me for Charlotte's death -” and that's something Stephen is all too familiar with, “- but -”
“He didn't kill you, even though he could have.”
Emily closes her eyes briefly and nods. Stephen watches her face carefully and tries to make sense of both the official report and what he's learned from interacting directly with Emily. He thinks it's possible Emily knows more than she's told anyone so far – he wouldn't be surprised if she did. It's no more than he's done before.
“What do you want?” Emily asks again, interrupting Stephen's thoughts.
He looks at her again, and chooses his words carefully. There's more to this – Emily, the merry band of travellers she's willing to leave behind to find Ethan. Two people who – like Stephen – shouldn't exist in this time and place but do. There's even a thought that he should find out how Emily's group's survival in the past would affect the anomaly model still being reconstructed in a lab two floors down.
Eventually, though, he says: “The same as you – answers.”
o o o o o
Go to: Part 2
o o o o o
Fandom: Primeval
Summary: There's a Victorian woman being debriefed in the ARC and a Romanov-era potential psychopath on the loose in modern day London. As far as Stephen's concerned stranger things have happened (like Jenny).
Characters: Becker/Stephen, Jess, Emily, Burton, Lester, Matt, Abby/Connor; references to and appearances by others, including OCs.
Rating: PG-13
Length: ~5300
Beta:
explodedpen and fredbassettSpoilers: Through s4 only.
Warnings: References to violence, character deaths and multiple timelines.
Author's Notes: A much belated fourth in a series, following React to Contact, Dipt Into the Future and The Past Won't Last. A fifth installment is in the planning stages. The title again comes from "House of Love" by East 17. Huge thanks to
explodedpen and lady_drace for the usual handholding and support.1
It's a dark and stormy night. Wind whips through the undergrowth and heavy rainfall dulls all but the sharpest senses. Even so it's impossible to miss the sight of a strange creature moving slowly on the ground. A lone human woman struggles to make a path. Her clothes are dirtied and worn through, and short brown hair is plastered around her head. One arm is cradled against her chest and the other waves about, ineffectually trying to shield both her face and her injury from the elements.
Any sound she makes is swallowed by the storm, but she knows she's being watched – even if predators can't smell the dried blood on her arm she's still an eyesore.
She can't afford to slow down any more.
Her uninjured arm catches in a tangle of vines. She swears, just loud enough to be heard over the wind, and attempts to pull herself free. When that fails she carefully reaches around with her other arm, pulls a knife out of her pocket and begins to hack away at the vines. She frees herself but the pain in her arm is growing unbearable and she's breathing heavily.
She looks around, trying to find a place to shelter for a few hours. Instead she finds shards of light hanging in the air at the base of a nearby tree.
An anomaly. She thinks if she had enough energy, she might cry.
She stumbles towards it, one painful, uneven step at a time.
Finally she passes through.
Then, she passes out.
There's a Victorian woman being debriefed in the ARC and a Romanov-era potential psychopath on the loose in modern day London. As far as Stephen's concerned stranger things have happened (like Jenny). Hilary, on the other hand, has taken the revelation that his team leader has been hiding a person from everyone else as a personal affront.
And he won't stop pacing. Hilary's living room is roughly the size of a postage stamp, but Stephen still feels dizzy tracking him.
“Come on,” he tries again. “Don't -”
Hilary stops mid-stride, shifts to his uninjured leg, and glares at him. “Don't what? Be angry that someone I've worked with for months kept something like this hidden from me – from all of us? That -”
“So you don't trust Matt.”
“What? No. Of course I trust him.”
“So you do trust him. Just not his judgement.”
Hilary's eyes narrow. “What are you doing?”
“I'm not sure,” Stephen admits. This kind of fuzzy logic used to work with Nick, but that's not something he needs to think about now. He shrugs. “Devil's advocate, maybe. Supportive boyfriend?”
“I – how is this supportive?”
Stephen shrugs again. “Hence the question mark. Look,” he adds, and pats the sofa beside him. “Sit down, at least.”
Hilary does, deliberately leaving a couple of inches between the two of them. “I don't like being the last to know,” he says quietly.
“I know.” Stephen stares at a battered paperback on the coffee table for a few moments. “H-”
“You keep doing that,” Hilary points out. “Hesitating. You were going to call me – that – weren't you.”
It's not a question, but Stephen huffs anyway. “It's your name.”
“Not the one I use,” Hilary retorts. Then: “Why?”
Stephen chooses his words carefully. “In the Pliocene, then in the future. I needed something to hold on to.”
Hilary doesn't look convinced. “And you picked the name my mother, in a fit of sadism, gave me. You had a team back here, trying to find you. Danny, Jenny – Sarah. Even Connor and Abby.”
Stephen snorts. “Abby blamed me for Nick's death – all of them. Connor spent too much time mooning over Abby or obsessing over the artefact. Danny was strictly professional, and Sarah sided with Jenny – who I called Claudia, as you may recall.”
Hilary smirks, but it quickly fades. “And me?”
Stephen hesitates. He thinks, You introduced me to your parents and left me alone with your brother and protecting me from Christine Johnson and even reassuring me and letting me hold you after I thought the future predators had killed you and that last, desperate kiss in front of the rest of the team before Stephen had taken Connor and Abby through the racetrack anomaly to find Helen.
How he'd spent a year using precious idle moments to replay every interaction, every look and touch, the ones that he'd taken and the few that had been offered, until Becker had become Hilary and Stephen had forgotten how to think of him any other way.
But he can't remember how to put any of that into words. “You,” he says quietly, with as much expression and intent as he knows.
He thinks Hilary understands though, because he reaches out, slowly at first so Stephen can see, and takes one of Stephen's hands and turns it over and rubs a calloused thumb against Stephen's palm.
Stephen shivers, closes his eyes and breathes.
The next morning Stephen reads Lady Emily Merchant's debrief transcript over Jess' shoulder while she pretends he isn't doing precisely that.
“I've read your file, you know,” she says, focused on another computer screen.
Stephen blinks. He's not sure what he's supposed to say to that.
“I mean, I read it when I first joined the ARC – you know, a way of seeing what and who had come before, but I read it properly the day after you came back.”
“And you're bringing this up now because...”
Jess twists around so she's staring Stephen directly in the eye. “I like Becker,” she says with too much conviction. “I – as a friend, I mean. And I...”
Stephen waits.
“I wanted to make sure you weren't the type of person who'd take advantage of him.”
Months of solitude mean Stephen doesn't have to try hard to stay expressionless. “I am,” he admits. “But I would never intentionally hurt him.”
Jess stares at him some more, then relaxes and smiles. “Good,” she pronounces.
“Is that it?” Stephen asks.
Jess considers this for a moment. “Well, I had been wondering – just how different is your time line – your original one, I mean – to this one?”
“Different enough.”
“Claudia Brown.”
Stephen nods. “Among other things.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lester moving around his office and turns back to Jess. “There was one other... significant difference, though,” he says.
Jess follows his glance to Lester's office, and her eyes widen.
Stephen leans in and whispers into her ear.
Jess' giggles follow him all the way down the corridor and around a couple of corners until he finds the holding cells (roomier than the ones he remembers). One of the doors is guarded, and the soldier on duty gives him a sidelong look, but opens the door anyway.
“Who are you?”
Emily Merchant's voice is cool and crisp and it matches her demeanour. Firm, almost poised to attack if needed.
“Stephen Hart.”
“You work here.”
“Yes.”
She nods but doesn't take her eyes off Stephen. Her gaze flickers a couple of times, taking Stephen in and sizing him up. “What do you want?” she asks eventually.
It's a very good question – what does he want? “I read your file,” Stephen says carefully. “From the debrief.”
“And Matt told me about you.”
Back to stalemate. “Maybe I just wanted to meet you,” Stephen replies as glibly as he remembers how. “As someone else who's spent significant time living on the other side of the anomalies.”
“The gateways.”
Stephen nods. “You weren't alone though,” he continues, and watches Emily's posture tense as she realises where this is going.
“Ethan,” she says.
Stephen nods again. “Why travel with someone that dangerous?” he asks, even as half-formed images of Helen flash through his mind.
“Is that a question or an accusation?” Emily counters.
In another place or time Stephen would be smiling by now. Despite himself, he thinks he likes Emily already. He shrugs his shoulders. “I'm curious,” he admits, and is surprised when he realises it's true.
Emily doesn't look convinced, but she says: “We found him, near death from savage injuries, in a barren wasteland. Charlotte nursed him back to health and – she was a calming influence on him.”
“How dangerous is he?”
Emily shakes her head. “It depends on what he wants.”
Stephen stares at her. “What does he want?”
The hesitation is brief, but noticeable. “I don't know. I thought he wanted revenge on me – he blamed me for Charlotte's death -” and that's something Stephen is all too familiar with, “- but -”
“He didn't kill you, even though he could have.”
Emily closes her eyes briefly and nods. Stephen watches her face carefully and tries to make sense of both the official report and what he's learned from interacting directly with Emily. He thinks it's possible Emily knows more than she's told anyone so far – he wouldn't be surprised if she did. It's no more than he's done before.
“What do you want?” Emily asks again, interrupting Stephen's thoughts.
He looks at her again, and chooses his words carefully. There's more to this – Emily, the merry band of travellers she's willing to leave behind to find Ethan. Two people who – like Stephen – shouldn't exist in this time and place but do. There's even a thought that he should find out how Emily's group's survival in the past would affect the anomaly model still being reconstructed in a lab two floors down.
Eventually, though, he says: “The same as you – answers.”
Go to: Part 2
o o o o o
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-09-24 05:36 pm (UTC)Very happy to see your Stephen/Becker series back. Looking forward to the next installment.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-24 06:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 09:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-24 07:44 pm (UTC)So pleased to read more in this series!
no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 09:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-24 08:21 pm (UTC)Nice to see the next part to this series.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 01:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 01:46 pm (UTC)And the exchange between Stephen and Becker at the beginning was very poignant.
no subject
Date: 2012-09-25 04:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-26 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-26 09:46 pm (UTC)