Disclaimer: I do not own Zoo or its characters.

Summary: "'I talked to your mother, and she told me your plan,' Abraham said." This is my take on how that conversation could have gone between Elizabeth and Abraham. 1x02

Characters: Elizabeth Oz, Abraham Kenyatta, Jackson Oz (mentioned)

Pairings: None

Rating: K

Unbeta'd.

Also, I apologize: There is Swahili at the end of the fic, but I am 73% that it is translated wrong. And, while Google Translate is helpful, it is not always accurate. I spent almost an hour researching Swahili verb conjugation and such, but, in the end, I went with Google Translate anyway. So, if anyone knows Swahili, feel free to correct any of my mistakes!

And, I know I'm joining the party pretty late-season 3 is halfway through (which I have not seen, so no spoilers, please)-but I was rewatching season 1 when inspiration struck. This story is one of several that I plan to write, but none of them will be very long-just snippets here and there that I would have liked to have seen in the show.

Anyway, I'm done. Enjoy!

"I've already lost one of the men I loved to this. I know it's irrational…but now I'm afraid I may lose the other."

Those words echoed throughout her mind, ringing through every fiber of her body.

Raising a child—much less a son like hers—was not easy. Parenting was never easy. But the combination of the unpredictable African wild and her son's unfortunate ability to find trouble wherever he went had led to her aging heart experiencing more fear than the average parent.

She loved Africa and its people, and there was nowhere else she would rather be. But, in a way, in some dark corner of her heart, she hated it. Because Africa was beautiful. Beautiful, but perilous. Shortly after arriving at the village that would become their home for the next decade, she realized that bringing her son to Africa had been a poor decision. So many dangers lay in wait for Jackson: spiders, snakes, disease, poachers…lions. Her son had encountered them all, multiple times. More than once she had been called over the radio, to prep a bed for her own son. More than once she held vigil over his pale form, to battle against raging fevers with medicine, cold compresses, and healthy doses of motherly affection.

But the fear consuming her now was not like all those other times. No, she was afraid because Jackson was careening towards a danger that she couldn't protect him from. Something she thought she had protected him from when they moved to Africa. And when he got hurt, she wouldn't be able to patch up his wounds with stitches and bandages. Her biggest fear. Her worst nightmare. To lose her son to an infection she couldn't fight with medicine, to lose her son to a disease that killed his father, her husband.

So she sought comfort from the one blessing that Africa had provided to them, the one antidote to her fear.

"Hello, Abraham," she greeted with a smile, pulling the stethoscope over her head, felt its familiar weight around her neck. "How are you feeling?"

The man returned her smile, which turned into a grimace as he struggled to sit up. "Like I got dragged into a tree by abnormal lions," he admitted, and she had to fight back a teasing grin.

Honest Abe, that's what she and Jackson liked to call him. Abe was honest, sardonically so, sometimes brutally, when the situation called for it. Abe had appreciated the humor of the nickname when they had finally explained its origin.

She helped him upright, poured a cup of water, and handed it to him. "Well, now you have another story to tell your kids, one day," she said, busying herself with his vitals.

She should've known that he'd sense her worry, her fear, despite her best intentions to bury her emotions. Maybe he heard it in her voice, or saw it in her face. Maybe both. Either way, he placed a hand on hers, stilling it. "Elizabeth, what is the matter?"

She inhaled, contemplating whether she should tell the truth, even though she had walked into the tent to do exactly that. The man was injured. It went against every medical procedure to release him so soon, to send him out on a mission that very likely won't be smooth sailing. But she was a mother, and she did whatever she had to do to keep her son safe.

Decisions made, she sat on the edge of the chair by Abe's bed, placed her other hand atop his. She met his eyes, saw she had his full attention. "It's Jackson." Abe's immediate reaction—the gaze he sent searching for his best friend, the tensing of his muscles—caused warm fondness to wash over her heart. "He's alright," she quickly assured, patting his hand. "He is. It's…" She sighed. "I am worried about him."

Abe's lips quirked in a smile, despite the heavy atmosphere. "You always worry."

Elizabeth chuckled, letting go of Abe's hand and leaning back in her chair. "Some would say I worry too much."

Abe's smile dropped, and an earnest expression replaced it. "A mother can never worry too much, Elizabeth. Nor can a mother stop worrying." He ducked his head to catch her eyes. "Now, what is wrong?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, felt her iron mask begin to crack at the seams. "He asked me earlier about his father's research, and he…I…" She paused, felt her eyes sting at the corners. "I was scared, at what I saw." She looked up at Abe, knowing her emotions were laid bare across her face. "For a second—a split second—I saw the same look in his eyes that I would see in his father's. That same…" she paused, struggling for the correct noun.

"Insanity?" Abe suggested, soft, compassionate.

But she shook her head. "Desperateness. The need to find the truth, to be right." She buried her face in her hands, rested her elbows on her knees. "I don't want to lose him." She was crying, but she didn't care, not anymore. "I don't want to lose him like I lost Robert."

She didn't know Abe had swung his legs over the bed until he was sitting across from her, gently prying her hands away. "You won't," he promised.

She met his eyes, saw strength and resolution in their chocolate depths. "He's going to Tokyo." She straightened, gathered herself together. Giving Abe's hands a reassuring squeeze, she pulled away and wiped at her teary eyes. "To find the rest of Robert's work." She stood, smoothed down her clothes. "You'll go with him." A statement, not a question.

Abraham smiled. "Of course."

Elizabeth nodded, grateful. She turned to leave but paused at the tent opening. "Look after him. Please." She glanced back at him. "If he starts to lose himself..." She took a deep breath. "You're the only person that can pull him back from the edge." Then she was gone.

Abe's shoulders slumped, and he wiped a hand down his face, rubbing at the weariness plaguing his eyes. He stood, gingerly, pressing a hand to his aching side. But he didn't waste time, pulling on the shirt and pair of pants folded neatly beside his bed, and left for his tent to pack. Along the way, cringing from the pain, he grinned to himself.

He could already hear the protest on Jackson's lips.

Kukaa karibu: Stay close.

And he already knew that he would not be left behind.

Kukaa karibu watu unaowapenda.

"If you go, I go with you."

The End.

Please review! I would love to hear your opinions. Plus, it would make me very happy just to see my readers responding. But if you just favorite this story, that makes me happy, too. :)

Until next time.