Pairing/characters: Connor, Cutter.
Warnings: AU from the end of series 1, rather dark theme.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 280
Summary: What if Connor hadn’t believed Cutter in 2.1? What if no-one had believed him?
AN: Originally written last year for the Primeval100 challenge, ‘Who’s Claudia?’, but it turned out that 100 words just wasn’t enough to say what I wanted this fic to say. Thanks to Fredbassett for the beta, and for poking me to dust off some fic that has been languishing on my hard drive.
Connor hated this place. Calling it a hospital didn’t change what it was – an asylum, a madhouse, a prison. The only things that kept him coming back were his sense of friendship and respect. And guilt.
“Professor?” Connor was the only one who still called him that.
Cutter looked up from his drawing. Always the same drawing, always the future predator, even after all these years.
That was when they had started to lose him. That was when he had started to talk about things that had never happened, and people who had never existed. And after what had happened with Stephen… No, even after that, no one could have predicted the breakdown.
Connor couldn’t help but wonder if there had been signs, if there had been a critical point where they might have been able to stop it. If there had been anything that he, that any of them, could have done.
Cutter looked up at him, and smiled. “Connor.”
Connor’s heart leapt at the rare moment of recognition. Maybe this was one of Cutter’s better days. Connor had long since given up hope of ‘better’ ever being close to ‘normal’. Nick Cutter, the real Nick Cutter, had died a long time ago, and had left in his place this man who simply wore Cutter’s body, and talked with his accent.
Cutter leaned towards him, his eyes alight with hope. “Have you found Claudia yet?”
Connor’s heart broke all over again, and he tried to hide the disappointment. Tried to talk around the sudden solid mass of pain in his throat.
Cutter looked faintly annoyed and returned to his drawing.
Of all his delusions, ‘Claudia Brown’ was still the most persistent.