Title: a hundred and three is forever when you're just a little kid

Author:

Warnings: Character Death, gratuitous angst.

Spoilers: None

Disclaimer: Do not own, do not sue. Title comes from Dave Matthews "Gravedigger". Do not own that either, do not sue.

Author's notes: Thanks to barefootstarz for the beta!

"Nick?" Connor blinked blearily.

"Conn- Connor. Take it easy lad, alright?" Nick dropped to his knees beside the grad student, scrabbling in the mud for his hand.

"N-Nick? What're you doing here?" Connor tried to blink rainwater out of this eyes after an aborted attempt to raise his other hand to his face.

"It's okay. Take it easy Conn…" Nick soothed, smoothing the unruly hair back from his face and gently wiping rainwater out of his eyes. "Take it easy…"

"Nick what happened? I can't remember…" He frowned petulantly, sounding like a scared three year old.

"Conn…" Nick took a deep breath. "There was an accident. We were at one of the anomalies- you were trying to reach one of the tranq gun cases when the truck flipped…" He squeezed the younger man's hand, smoothing his hair back unnecessarily.

"I…" Connor looked past Nick. "Oh my god oh my god." He started to struggle.

"No Connor, don't." Abby fell to her knees and pressed small hands to Connor's shoulders. "Don't." Mascara and eyeliner ran in twin streaks down her face.

"Connor, Connor stop." Stephen slid to a stop between Nick and Abby, settling into the mud without a second thought.

"No… I- why?" Connor blinked up at the three faces looking down at him.

Abby shook her head, crying softly. "I don't know, I'm so sorry Connor."

"What is that?" The grad student asked, lucidity returning, eyes flicking between the three people and about halfway down his body.

"The truck." Nick said softly. "We hit another creature and flipped the truck. You were …thrown and pinned."

Stephen cradled Connor's hand, still clasped in Nick's, in his own.

"Yes, I see that." Connor said dryly, the only indication of his panic showing in the tightening of his grip on Nick's hand. "How bad is it?"

"It's …bad Conn. Ambo's on the way, though. You'll be alright." Stephen shifted, knees brushing against Nick's.

"Oh. Yeah. I kinda figured that…" Connor grimaced. "There's a truck through my lower intestine. That usually figures bad."

Abby sniffed and he looked up, dredging a smile up for her. "Don't cry, then. Just… let Duncan clear out the bottom drawer, okay?"

Abby, Stephen, and Nick looked on as Connor seemed to take stock of himself and smiled sadly. "I think I'm bleeding out guys. It's all a bit fuzzy now." He tilted his head a little, peering up at the older men.

"Don't say that!" Abby said fiercely, crying harder.

"Hey now, hey now. Don't cry alright? You hate redoing your makeup." Abby laughed a little bit at that and all three sat with the grad student until the paramedics forcibly removed them, moving in a flurry of equipment and bodies. They lifted the silver truck and Connor was gone.