#and i think clara first struggles with the idea of fourth dimensional thinking of course but actually takes to it rather quickly all things

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 8 / 31 * SILVER MINE 」

October 3, 1885

Despite Emmett’s already thorough and lengthy explanation of temporal mechanics, Clara had only begun to get a handle on the concept of fourth-dimensional thinking. It was one thing to consider herself fairly open and scientifically minded, even towards the more fantastical elements of science that Jules Verne had begun lovingly breathing life into. It was another to be suddenly and wholly immersed in this new world of infinite possibilities, trying to curl terribly mortal fingers around the shimmering threads of the world that belonged somewhere in the realm of gods.

It was hard to deny it when irrefutable proof positive had ripped through the fabric of time and space right before her very eyes, carrying Mr. Eastwood to the future–the honest-to-goodness future–and left the two of them behind with a parting gale and that delightful flying board that seemed more magic than science at the moment.

So when Emmett asked if she’d like to see the invention that was responsible for everything, the one not lying in a heap of destroyed, near unrecognisable parts in the stable, she responded with the most enthusiastic, unladylike yes of her life. 

This device was his legacy, the reason he was still alive–with Mr. Eastwood’s intervention, a fact that no amount of thanks would ever be enough to convey her deep gratitude–and Clara couldn’t help but feel giddy knowing she would be made privy to one of the most incredible inventions of her lifetime–arguably–and perhaps of all time.

They had left early that morning, saddling up Newton and Archimedes after a quick breakfast to avoid any prying eyes who might wonder where the two were heading off to alone at such an hour.

��So this is the Time Machine?” Clara asks, accepting Emmett’s proffered hand as they step over the last of the fallen rocks barring the entryway to where the Time Machine was safely hidden away. 

It’s impossible to make out any of its fantastical futuristic components while it slumbers beneath the tarp, waiting for the moment it will be unearthed once again, but Emmett had wrapped it up with such care and precision that she can still make out its unfamiliar–and admittedly strange–shape. In the heat of the moment, she hadn’t managed a proper look at the Time Machine, though she can recall its silver body streaked with sunlight and that unique way the doors of the vehicle opened up instead of out, reminding her of a bird poised to take flight. 

To fly the time-traveller away to distant lands—

“The one that Mister Ea—Marty used to come back here and save your life.”

“The very same. Only without some of the modifications that were necessary to make it functional again.”

“And it has to stay buried here until…1955, was it? Where Marty will retrieve it after he receives that letter you sent him in which you told him how to fix your Time Machine and to go home.” 

“Which you and I both now know he ignores despite my insistence,” Emmett says, half-smirking.

“Which I should say is for the best! I shudder to think of what would have happened had he not come back when he did.”

“I wouldn’t be here now for us to be having this conversation,” he says calmly despite the morbid topic of his own mortality, and a vision of Tannen flashes in her mind, his eyes crazed, the barrel of that gun pointed right at Emmett—

“I’m not upset with him, of course. It was nice to see him again, to know he was okay, even if I had to send him back alone. He saved my life again and I owe him more for that than I think he knows.”

Clara nods, approaching the Time Machine with a raised hand. Before she reaches out to touch it, she remembers herself and Emmett’s lessons on fourth-dimensional travel and looks to him for permission, lest she accidentally damage the machine somehow and cause one of those paradoxes capable of unravelling the universe.