Pinky Promise

Chapter 1 - Coming Home

It wasn't that he couldn't believe his eyes, his eyes had never lied to him before so he had no reason to doubt them. It was just, he cursed the damn thing for appearing now, now. They had prayed for it to open five years ago, wished that they were at the beach instead of cowering at the top of a tree with no way home. He had promised her that they would get home together, in one piece, and live happily ever after. Or as happy as they could after everything.

Now, Connor stood in front of the dancing shards, the thing that had brought them together but led on to her demise. And he was the last one standing, his hand curled around the only part of her he had left, someone he'd made the same promises to and now they stood in front of the thing that possibly meant he could keep these ones.

"What is it, dad?" She asked, hair wild and brown just like her eyes.

"I think... I think it might be home."

Connor pulled her up into his arms, her legs clamping onto his hips and her arms clasped around his neck just like he'd taught her to do if they needed to move, fast. A part of him didn't want to leave, couldn't. A part of him was here, millions of years away from home and he was supposed to just turn his back on her and leave?

"Do you not want to go home, daddy?" One of her thumbs stroked at his cheeks.

He had to.

"Yeah, sorry, of course. Come on, let's go on an adventure, shall we?"

The cacophony of calls that they were so used to turned silent just for a second as they stepped through, the purest of calm, and then they were somewhere else entirely. Sounds that had been once familiar to his ears were as strange as the ones he'd heard during their first night in the canopy above their new - old - world those years ago.

There was shouting and engines running, he could hear people running and there was a static to the air that tickled at his ears. All of his senses decided to attack, from the loudness around him, and her, to the smells that surrounded them. The fumes.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hold your fire. I repeat, do not shoot!" Connor's ears tuned to the loudest noise there was because that usually meant it was the nearest and anything that got too close was a threat.

He scanned the line of soldiers in black all aiming their weapons at him. And her. Big rifles, small pistols and some in between.

This was home. This is what they'd wanted to get back to?

There he was.

A face he hadn't seen in five years, the only sign of home he needed to see to know that they were safe. Connor had done it, they'd done it.

He collapsed to his knees, still holding onto her. He didn't even register the sound of his bone against concrete or feel the tears that suddenly reached his chin, following the curve and dribbling towards his chest. She did, though.

"Daddy, is this home? Are we home?"

"Yeah."

"So why are you crying?"

Because even though they'd made it, he couldn't shake the feeling of failure. There never was a promise he couldn't keep, especially when it came to Abby. She could have everything, and anything and he would happily give it to her. Their pinkies became a binding contract, never broken.

I'll come back. Promise? Promise.

It's safe. Promise? Promise.

It'll be okay. Promise? Promise.

It's cooked. Promise? Promise.

I'll get us home. Promise? Promise. And that's when she passed, her little finger curled in his. The us, not being him and her but him and her. The her that had taken her from him, the her that shattered his world into a million different pieces but knew how to fix it, too.

"Connor?" Becker's voice was almost a breath. Connor wondered when his name was last spoken, if they were spoken about in what-ifs and maybes. A brief part of a soldier's life.

When the man fell to the floor in front of Connor, arms hesitant and mouth gaping not sure what to do or say, Connor thought that maybe he had never given up hope, either. That their promises to each other were all about staying alive and getting home because it was worth the struggle for the people who waited.

"And who's this?" Becker asks, tucking her loose strands of dirty, tangled hair behind her mother's ears.

"This... this is Fern."

"Fern, eh?"

Connor thought he could see Becker's eyes welling, but was finding it too hard to focus on one thing. He had been rewired to concentrate on everything and anything in the Cretaceous, to register the different sounds and evaluate the danger they might possess.

Fern had tucked her head into Connor's shoulder by now, nestling her nose into his collarbone. He couldn't begin to imagine what this was like for her, new sights and alien smells. Louder and smellier than before, and this was somehow safer?

"Abby?" Becker's eyes travelled beyond Connor's shoulder now, towards the pieces of yellow against the walls of grey, the portal between worlds. Between life and death.

Connor clenched his jaw, wondering if he had spoken about her in past tense before those they had left behind might have started. Who had lost hope first? He wasn't even sure if he'd managed to shake his head but Becker quickly got to his feet, grabbing a foil blanket from one of the soldiers behind him and he thought maybe he did. He was so numb.

"Come on, let's get you home, shall we?" Becker pulled the blanket across Connor's back, Fern instantly grabbing onto it. It was familiar for her, only this one didn't smell of Abby. Or mud. Or afterbirth.

"I thought we were home? Daddy?"

"We are, we are. This is home, well not here. But we are home."

"Don't worry, you're safe. You're safe with me." Becker said.

"Pinky promise?" Fern pressed, looking up from the reflections of the foil.

"Of course." Becker lifted a single finger, the smallest on his left hand. Connor caught a glimpse of silver as he did, a wedding band.

Fern met the soldier's pinky with her own, not letting go of the blanket, and it was a deal, a silent agreement between two parties.

I'll get us home. Promise? Promise.