#my day isn’t complete and my mood gets all screwy if I don’t talk to him

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[trulymadlysydney]

Somewhere In Time: Two

“For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.”  

― Eric Roth, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button Screenplay

Masterpost

tw: Death, loss of parent

***Please do not repost without permission***

5:21pm, December 31st, 1999

“Babe, I’m home!”

Roni drops her keys onto the kitchen counter as she calls out to her boyfriend, Oliver.  She waits a moment for his response, smiling when she hears him.

“Hey!” Oliver appears around the corner, beaming.  He’s in a striped t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, clearly not dressed for the New Year’s Eve party he and Roni are throwing.  He bounds over to her, happily embracing her and kissing her tenderly on the lips. “How was work?”

Roni kisses him back, reaching up to comb her fingers through his hair. “It was good,” she says with a shrug. “Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

Oliver scoffs. “Because, I’ve been busy decorating the house this whole time.  C’mere.”

He links his hand with Roni’s and leads her into the living room of their shared condo, now covered in streamers and various party decorations signifying the new millennium.  Roni can tell he’s been working hard, and she giggles when she spots a sign in the corner of the room similar to the one she’d seen on the street earlier.  “Y2k, The end is near,” she reads aloud.

Oliver chuckles as well, reciting the words that have been constantly playing on the television  and radio for weeks now. “Remember to shut off all electronics before midnight on January 1st, in the year 2000!”  He picks up a balloon from the ground and gives it a harsh kick.  “Because you know, obviously they’re all going to explode and the world is going to end in death and destruction and all that.”

Roni shrugs.  “I mean, you never know.  We have no idea what’s going to happen.”

“I’ll keep you safe,” Oliver says with a mischievous grin.  “Aliens are no match for me.”  He makes his way over to Roni and wraps his arms around her, trapping her in a warm hug.  Roni instantly melts into him and nuzzles her head against his chest.

“It really does look good, baby.”  Her voice is a bit muffled against the fabric of his shirt, but she knows he’s heard her when he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“Yeah?  Not too much?”

“No, no.  It’s perfect. Thank you for doing all of  this.”

For a moment, they stay just like that, swaying gently from side to side and just enjoying the stillness-- the calm before the storm of friends arriving for the party.  Roni lets out a long sigh, taking in the forever comforting smell of her boyfriend and enjoying the warmth of his body holding hers.  She’s always loved being held like this, completely wrapped up in someone and safe from everything else. It’s the little moments like this that she never wants to forget, and she often finds herself coming back to these moments when days get hard.  

“I miss my mom.”  She doesn’t mean to say it out loud, but it’s been there, on the tip of her tongue, and now she can’t stop herself.  It feels like saying it is going to get it out, like the tension on her heart will ease up just a bit if she just says what’s on her mind.

Oliver tightens his hold on her, giving her a little squeeze and resting his cheek on top of her head.  “I know, baby. I’m sorry.  I know this time of year is hard on you.  Going into a new millennium without her must be weird.”

Roni bites her lip, wanting so badly to stop herself from saying what she’s about to say-- but now that she’s started, now that she’s so much as dipped her toes into the emotions, she can’t stop herself.  So she speaks, all in one breath, and squeezes her eyes shut the minute the words leave her mouth. “I think I’m gonna try again tonight.”

Oliver stops his movements, but he doesn’t let go of her.  He doesn’t even move to look at her, and for a moment Roni feels silly. When Oliver finally exhales,, Roni launches into her explanation.   “I think I figured out what I’ve been doing wrong, Oliver! I re-read that book and I think I misunderstood it last time, so I tweaked a few things and I’m thinking maybe if I just try again around midnight tonight when everything is supposed to go all screwy, maybe I can--”

“Roni.”

“--figure it out! I really think this time it’s gonna work because--”

“Roni.”

“--I took notes, and I did even more research! You know that recording I did?  I re-recorded it! And I’m gonna use that blindfold, and--”

“Roni!” Oliver takes Roni’s shoulders in his hands and scans her face with an unreadable expression.  This time, Roni does stop talking, wilting in his grasp and frowning up at him.  

Silence hangs thick in the air before Oliver lets out another impossibly long sigh, reaching up to rub at his face with his hand.  “Roni,” he says slowly.  “Time travel….. Isn’t possible.”

“It is possible, Oliver. It’s entirely possible.”

“It’s ludicrous is what it is.”  Oliver shakes his head slowly, reaching to brush some of Roni’s hair back.  He knows his words are harsh, and he doesn’t mean them to be, so he thinks that maybe the softness of his touch will cushion the blow of what he’s saying.  “I love you, like, to a ridiculous degree.  But you worry me with this stuff.”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Roni mutters.  “Maybe if you took me seriously--”

“I do take you seriously, Veronica.”  His use of her full name, which he reserves almost solely for when he needs to get a point across, makes her ears prick.  “I take you more seriously than I take most people.  But dude, time travel isn’t real.  I know you know that.”

Roni frowns, absorbing the thickness behind his words.  Logic tells her he’s right of course, but her instinct tells her he isn’t.   She doesn’t know why his words hurt her feelings so much, and she feels stupid for even bringing this up.  There’s genuine concern in Oliver’s eyes, so much so that its almost uncomfortable to meet his gaze.  So after a moment silence, she pulls away.  “I don’t know why I even tell you this stuff anymore.”

Oliver doesn’t come after her as she begins to make her way towards the stairs.  Instead, he reaches up with both hands  to rub at his face once again.  “Roni, can we not fight, please?”

“We’re not fighting,” she calls over her shoulder.  “Just forget I even brought it up.”

“Baby--”

“Seriously!”  She tries to make her voice as normal as possible.  “Just get ready.  Our friends are gonna be here in a few hours.  It’s gonna be sick.”

Oliver starts saying something, but Roni doesn’t even stop to listen once she reaches the bedroom.  She closes the door behind her-- not hard enough to be considered a slam but enough to get the point across-- and falls softly onto the bed.

The only noise in the room comes from the clock hanging on the wall, and Roni watches the hands tick by out of the corner of her eye. She doesn’t know why she even brought this whole thing up, really.  She’d known that was going to be Oliver’s reaction.  It was always his reaction.

Roni raises her hand to view her mood ring, and smiles in spite of herself when she sees that its color is orange-- meaning unsettled.

The ring had belonged to her mother growing up, and Roni doesn’t remember a single time when her mother wasn’t wearing it.  It was both Roni and her mother’s favorite piece of jewelry, and from an early age her mother had taught her what all of the colors meant.  The memory warms Roni’s heart immensely.

----

10:16pm, April 4th, 1979

Five year old Roni pads barefoot down the hall, the trail of her nightgown a little too long-- making it difficult for her feet to move.  She reaches her mother’s bedroom door and pushes it open without knocking- she’d never knocked before-- and is greeted by the sight of her mother,  Tanya, sitting up in bed and watching the thunderstorm through open windows.

Tanya turns almost immediately, and offers her the warmest smile.  Her smiles were always warm, and she always knew exactly what Roni wanted before Roni could even say anything.

“Hi peanut,” Tanya greets, twirling the mood ring on her middle finger.  She stops the movement and pats the spot on the bed beside her.  “You scared?”

Thunder claps loudly and Roni nods, scurrying across the floor and jumping up onto the bed.  Tanya envelops her in her arms immediately, and Roni burrows deeply into her side.  

“It’s loud, mama!” Roni pouts, taking her mother’s dainty hand in her own small one and playing with her long, slender fingers.

“It is,” Tanya agrees.  “But it’s nothing to be scared of.”

“Then why is it so scary?”  Roni asks, struggling around the gap of missing teeth in the front of her mouth.

Tanya chuckles, using her free hand to comb through Roni’s tangled bedhead.  “It isn’t meant to be,” she says softly.  “It’s just the clouds, my love.  They won’t hurt you.”

Roni notices the mood ring on her mother’s middle finger, and she examines it closely before touching it.  “What’s that?”

“It’s called a mood ring. You wear it, and it tells you how you’re feeling.”

“But can’t you just know how you’re feeling?  By just… feeling it?”

Tanya laughs again, one of Roni’s favorite noises in the world, before explaining.  “Well you see, sometimes feelings can be confusing.  Sometimes we don’t know exactly what we’re feeling.  Maybe our bodies could be feeling one way, but our hearts another.  Or maybe our hearts feel one way, but our minds another.  Sometimes it can be very difficult to understand what we’re feeling exactly.  Sometimes what we’re feeling doesn’t even have a name.”

“And the ring helps you?”

Tanya nods.  “That’s right.  Would you like to try it?”

Roni doesn’t answer, she just reaches for the ring and slides it gently off of her mother’s finger.  Of course it’s far too big for her fingers, which makes her frown up at her mother as a way of asking for help.  Tanya only smiles, taking the ring from her daughter’s hands.  “Hold out your hand for me, love.  Like this.”  

Roni holds out her hand, palm up, and Tanya places the ring in the center before folding Roni’s fingers.  “Now close your hand around it, and then hold it tight to your heart.”  Tanya takes Roni’s tiny fist and guides it gently to her chest.  Roni watches her mother with bated breath, expecting something magnificent to happen.

Tanya’s smile never once fades as she watches her daughter, and after a few moments she takes her hand again.  “Now lets see what color you got!”  

Roni holds out her hand once more, and both lean in to try and get a better look at the gemstone.  Roni frowns.  “It’s brown.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well,” Roni reasons, “It was pink when you had it on.  It was pretty.”

“It still is pretty, my love.  Although, brown means you’re nervous.”

“Well, yeah!” Roni states, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  “Did you see outside?!”

Tanya giggles.  “There is nothing to be nervous about, peanut.  I promise.  Come here.”

Scooting backwards so that her back rests against the headboard, Tanya holds her arms out for Roni to curl up into her lap.   Roni complies immediately, already feeling that much safer in her mother’s embrace.

“Watch the lightning,” Tanya instructs, pointing at the window.  “And tell me what you see.”

Roni doesn’t understand at first, but she isn’t one to question her mother.  So she stares intently out the window, waiting not-so-patiently for the flash of lightning to occur while her mother plays softly with her hair.

When the lightning finally does flash, Roni jumps a little-- but she’s brave, so she pretends it never happened and hopes her mother doesn’t notice.  She watches the now-dark sky the moment the lightning passes, and squints her eyes.  Was she supposed to see something extraordinary?

She looks up at her mother with furrowed brows.  “I just saw flashing lights.”

“Really?  Because I saw…”  Tanya’s lips form a line as she ponders for a brief moment before continuing.  “I saw two elephants.  One was trying to balance on a ball.”  

Thunder echoes loudly, shaking the walls, and Roni burrows further into her mother.  Her mother, however, only continues.  “And you hear that?  That’s the sound of him falling off of it because he’s clumsy.”

Roni giggles imagining a big huge elephant falling off a ball.  “Mama, you’re silly.”

“You didn’t see it?”  Tanya asks, sounding completely sincere.  “Look now.  Try again.”  She points out the window, and this time Roni really concentrates.  She focuses all of her efforts, waiting without so much as taking another breath, until she sees the next lightning flash.

Both Roni and Tanya seem to get excited about that one.  “What did you see?”  Tanya asks.

“I saw horses!”  Roni exclaims. “They were jumping and stuff. But they were real big!  There was a mama and a baby.”

“Like us?”

“Yeah!”

Thunder rings out once more, and this time Roni doesn’t cower.  This time, she turns to her mother with a wide, open-mouthed smile.  “That was the baby horse running into a tree and knocking it down!”

“Oh nooo!” Tanya giggles.  “Must be a clumsy little thing!”

Roni’s laugh echoes that of her mother’s.  “Yeah!”

They stay like that for the next few minutes, talking and laughing and making up stories about what they see in the lightning, until Roni is completely fearless.  Now the thunder seems a little less loud, and the lightning tells stories that Roni and her mother giggle about until they can’t breathe.

Suddenly, a thought occurs to little Roni, and she turns to take her mother’s hand in both of her small ones once again.  “Mama?”

“Yes?”

“We’re best friends, huh?”

Tanya wraps her arms around Roni, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.  “We are, baby.”

“Are we always gonna be best friends?”

“I think so.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Moments pass in silence, and Roni grows worried that what she said made her mother sad, because when she looks up her eyes look a little wet.  This worries Roni, and she quickly scrambles to think of a change of subject.

“I wanna try the ring again!”

Tanya sniffs, reaching up briefly to dab at her eyes before flashing her signature smile.  “Well sure, go ahead.”

Roni slips it off of her mother’s finger and encloses her own fingers around it, bringing it up to her chest and closing her eyes tight.  She knows this isn’t a part of the rules, but something tells her it’s important to make a wish in this moment.  Because maybe if she makes a wish, and the mood ring isn’t brown anymore, it’s a sign the wish will come true.

So with all of her might, Roni wishes for her mama to only be happy for the rest of her life.

Tanya laughs, reaching forward to ruffle Roni’s already messy bedhead.  “What are you doing there, peanut?”

“Making a wish!” Roni responds without opening her eyes, and Tanya smiles softly.

“Oh, I see.  I’m sorry for interrupting.”

When she’s certain the wish has been made well enough, Roni nods her head and opens her eyes.  With slow movements, she pulls her hand away and glances down at the ring in her fingers.

It takes her a few moments to make out the color, but when she does she gasps.  “Mama look, it’s pink like yours!”

Tanya gasps, taking Roni’s hand in her own and bringing it closer to examine the ring.  “It is!  Pink means you’re happy!  Are you happy?”

“Yeah!” Roni giggles, bouncing a little on the bed.   “Are you happy?”

“Beyond.”  Tanya settles back against the pillows and pats the empty spot beside her.  “You wanna sleep with mama tonight?”

It’s not an unusual question, and sleeping in Tanya’s bed with her isn’t something that Roni isn’t used to.  Still, she beams.  “Can I?”

“Of course!”  Tanya pulls the comforter down, exposing the crisp, white, ridiculously comfortable sheets that Roni loves.  “Get in here!”

That night Roni falls asleep to the sound of her mother’s heartbeat and the rain hitting the side of their apartment, while her mother scratches lovingly at her head and her back.

It’s a feeling Roni will never forget, and a feeling she’d hoped she’d get to feel for the rest of her life. -----

It’s 8:47pm when Roni finishes getting ready.  A few guests have already showed up, but she knows them well enough that they don’t mind her being fashionably late downstairs.  They’ve even popped in and out of her room a few times to say hello and bring her drinks because,  “You need to get started, Ron!”

The dress she’d bought specifically for this occasion clings to her every curve, and the alcohol already in her system makes her feel like she’s buzzing even though she hasn’t even joined the party yet.  She checks herself out in the full length mirror on the back of her and Oliver’s bedroom door, smirking at her own reflection.  At the very least, she’s going to look good as hell tonight.

She sees the tape recorder poking out from under her bed and it feels like a sudden slap to the face. She’s going to try again tonight, and she isn’t going to tell anyone.

Although she isn’t scared, she pads barefoot across the room to kick the tape recorder under the bed for the time being.  She still has a few hours before she needs to worry about all that, and for right now she just wants to enjoy herself.

Roni slips into the heels she’d bought for this evening and, with one last glance in the mirror, begins to make her way downstairs.

The party is already in full swing, and everyone greets Roni enthusiastically as she passes. Music is blasting from the stereo. She offers a few hugs here and there and holds light conversation, but her heart is hardly in it as she makes her way through the crowd.

It isn’t long until she finds the one person she’s been looking for. Oliver stands in the kitchen, fixing some type of colorful drink. He doesn’t see her at first, but Roni smiles the minute she sees him.

He looks so incredibly handsome in his suit, the bow tie around his neck matching the color of her dress perfectly.  He’s focusing on pouring the exact amount of vodka into the glass when he looks up and notices Roni.

“Baby,”  Oliver says just above a whisper, immediately softening.  He drops what he’s doing and makes his way over to Roni, wrapping her up in his arms.  She can tell he’s been waiting for this, and she hugs him back without a fuss. She practically melts into his embrace because, gosh darn it, she’s a sucker for his hugs.  “God, you look so beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Roni replies, mouth smushed against his chest. “So do you.”

Oliver sways a bit, talking softly so that only Roni can hear.  “I don’t like when we fight like that.”

Roni is grateful for the buzz of everyone talking over the music, because it makes this moment with Oliver all the more intimate in the strangest way.  “I know,” she replies, pulling away to look up at him.  “I don’t either.  I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Oliver replies, brushing a piece of Roni’s hair behind her ear.  “It’s just…” he sighs.  “You worry me sometimes.  That’s all.”

“I know,” Roni repeats.  “I don’t mean to.  And I get it.”

She does get where he’s coming from, really, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t trouble her that this was a side of her that he would never understand.  All the research she’s done, all the plans she’s sketched out for herself-- none of that will ever matter to him because he writes it off as crazy.  

And that’s fine, she supposes.  That’s the logical response anyway. As much as she wishes Oliver were more supportive, his is the response she’d expect anyone to have.

Except for her mother.

Roni attributes her fascination with this sort of thing to her mother.  Tanya was the sort of woman who never belittled or doubted any thought that came into Roni’s little mind, no matter how strange it seemed, because she herself had such a vivid imagination.  She was the only one who understood Roni completely, in some of the strangest and most unspoken ways.  She was Roni’s best friend.

Which is why Roni refuses to give up on trying to go back to her to undo the day of the accident.

Still, Oliver doesn’t need to know that.  

Roni pulls out of the hug and smiles at Oliver, puckering her lips as a silent request for him to kiss her.   He smiles, pressing several small pecks and one lingering kiss to her lips.  

“I love you,” he says against her cheek, kissing the spot just in front of her ear before turning back to the concoction he was making on the counter.  He picks up the glass and offers it to Roni.  “This is yours,” he says proudly.  “I was making it for you. I was about to bring it upstairs when you showed up.”

“It’s like I knew,” Roni states.  “My alcohol senses were tingling.”

Oliver nods.  “Not surprised.”

“No one makes my drinks as good as you do!” Roni shrugs.  “That’s why I love you so much.”

Oliver snorts.  “Oh is that all?”  He playfully jabs a finger into Roni’s stomach.  

“And I guess you’re pretty handsome, too.”  Roni takes a sip of her drink as Oliver circles her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pressing his lips to her neck.

He hums into kiss he presses just below her ear. “You smell good.”

“Yeah?”

Oliver presses soft kisses against her neck, smiling into every single one.  “M-hm.  Could just eat you up.”   He bites at her earlobe, lowering his voice.  “Or out.”

Roni gasps, attempting to turn around in his arms and playfully slap him.  “Oliver Ward!”

“Ooh, full name,” Oliver teases.  “Spicy.”

“You’re so annoying,” Roni says.  She rolls her eyes, but her giggle gives her away.  “There will be plenty of time for that once everyone leaves.”

“Well in that case,” Oliver lets go of her, looking pleased with himself,  “I say we just call the whole party off.”

“Behave.”  Roni cuts her eyes at him, but he responds my sticking his tongue out at her-- which she mirrors.  She nods her head over her shoulder.  “Shall we?”

Oliver holds his arm out for her to grab onto.  “We shall.”

The next few hours of the night go by quickly, with lots of laughter, lots of dancing, and several shots. Roni, however, holds back, finding any excuse she can to drink less than everyone else. She has a job to do.

Anxiety looms overhead like a raincloud, though Roni thanks her lucky stars for the incessant chatter and haze of drunkenness flooding the room. No one seems to feel the same vibes she’s feeling, which is good. She works hard to keep it that way.

It’s 11:50pm when Roni finds herself sitting on the couch beside her now supremely drunk boyfriend. The hands of her watch feel almost threatening, and she knows she doesn’t have much time left to execute her plan.

She pats Oliver’s knee as she rises to her feet, and he frowns immediately. He reaches forward to take her hand in his. “Hey, where are you going?”  He sounds like a pouty child, and despite her nerves, it makes Roni laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” she assures him. “I’m just gonna run to the restroom. Okay?”

“It’s almost midnight!” Oliver protests, refusing to let go of her hand.

“So? It’ll be my last normal pee before the world shuts down.”

This time Oliver laughs once he processes her words. “Yeah, you’re right,” he slurs. “But hurry back! You’ve gotta kiss me at midnight, okay?”

Something about his words tugs at Roni’s heartstrings, and she reaches forward to run her knuckle along his cheek. He’s looking up at her like a nervous little boy, his eyes the size of the moon, and she can’t help herself but to lean forward and press a little kiss into his forehead.  “I promise,” she says softly, “I’ll be right back.”

Oliver smiles, bouncing a little bit on the cushions of the couch. “Okay!”

As Roni ascends the stairs leading to her and Oliver’s shared bedroom, the pounding of her own heart in her ears almost drowns out the music entirely.  Truth be told, she has no idea what she’s expecting out of this. How long will she be gone? Does a full day in the past only equate to seconds in the present day? Will she really be back in time for midnight? What happens if she takes too long, and when everyone comes up to look for her she’s gone without a trace?

Most importantly, will she wake up in the morning to a phone call from her mother, as if she’d never passed?

Roni closes the door to their bedroom and begins preparing everything she needs. She retrieves a blindfold from her bedside drawer and pulls the tape recorder out from under the bed, biting back the fear rising in her throat.

What is she even going to say when she sees her mother? Is she going to cry? Is she going to be eleven years old again, or is current twenty-six year old Roni going to swoop in and confuse the hell out of everyone?

In hindsight, these are the questions that Roni figures she should have thought through before even considering this.  But the closer it gets to midnight, the less amount of time she knows she has.

So she leans down and pushes play on the tape recorder.

Her own voice plays from the speakers.

It is nearing midnight on December 31st, 1999. A new millennium is fast approaching.

Roni clears her throat, preparing the blindfold by folding it in her lap as the recording continues.

You are twenty-six years old, living with your twenty-seven year old boyfriend Oliver in the year 1999. Today, you will go back to the year 1985 in order to prevent your mother, Tanya Rachel Elliot, from getting behind the wheel of her car. I will give you a few moments to prepare.

The tape is quite repetitive and self explanatory, but everything that Roni had read about this whole process had explained that that type of speaking was necessary- albeit tedious.  

Roni had sat down with a blank tape and a microphone to record this a week ago, and it had sat untouched until this moment. Listening to it is surreal, but at the same time, comforting. She feels more confident than she ever had when she’s attempted this, and although it is a somewhat terrifying feeling, she is excited.

With one last long breath, Roni wraps the blindfold around her eyes, tying it tightly against the back of her head but still attempting not to mess up her makeup.

Take a moment to fully clear your mind. Take several deep breaths, in through your nose…. out through your mouth. Slower, now. Do this several times.

Roni obeys her own voice, allowing herself to breathe.  When she’s certain not a single bit of light is peeking through the blindfold, she lies back against the headboard of her bed, relaxing fully for the first time. 

Roni from the tape recorder takes a deep breath, as if she too is nervous.

It is June 16th, 1985.  You are lying on your bed, in your bedroom that you have slept in since your birth, and it is only 9:30am on June 16th, 1985.  Your mind accepts this completely.  It is 9:30am on June 16th, in the year 1985.   Your mother is in the kitchen at this very moment, cooking breakfast for you.  She is humming softly to herself.  She is alive.  Your mind accepts this absolutely.  Soon you will awaken, at which time it will be 9:30am, on the morning of June 16th, in the year 1985.

Roni’s heart continues to pound, because god, she hopes this works. She swallows a lump rising in her throat and concentrates all of her efforts on the recording.

It is currently 9:30 in the morning on June 16th, 1985.  Your mother, Tanya Rachel Elliot, is alive and cooking you breakfast.  She is happy.  It is 1985.  As you lie here in your childhood bedroom, your mother is here in this very moment.  Your mother is present.  Your mother is alive and cooking you breakfast.  You can smell the blueberry muffins she’s making for you.

Roni takes a deep inhale through her nose.  She concentrates all her efforts on bringing to mind the smell of the blueberry muffins she distinctly remembers her mother making for her the morning of the day she passed. She doesn’t realize she’s been anxiously twisting the mood ring on her finger this entire time.

June 16th, 1985.  June 16th, 1985.  It is a completely sunny day, not a single cloud in sight. It is hot, the perfect kind of day to go swimming.  Your mother is downstairs making you blueberry muffins, and you will ask her to take you swimming the moment you get downstairs on the morning of June 16th, 1985.  You will convince her not to leave for work today  She will not get behind the wheel.  She will not get into the accident.

Roni goes there in her brain, remembering the morning of her mother’s passing in as vivid detail as she possibly can.   She alerts every one of her senses to take in what this feels like; what her childhood bedroom smells like while the muffins waft in through the vent, what her fluffy comforter feels like beneath her body.  She feels frustrated that this isn’t happening quickly enough,  and lets out another long, drawn out sigh.

She can do this.

Your mind accepts this absolutely.  It is 9:30am on June 16th, 1985.  You have travelled back in time.  Soon, you will open your eyes, and you will see your old childhood bedroom.  You will walk into the hallway of the home you share with your mother, Tanya Rachel Elliot, and you will walk downstairs to find her cooking breakfast for you.  It is the morning of June 16th, 1985.  Your mind wholeheartedly accepts this.

Slowly but surely, Roni feels herself drifting ever so slightly.  It starts with the feeling of falling asleep; a faint buzzing of the nerves in her hand causing her to want to twitch.  Her body is going to sleep, which is something she read was not only normal, but a good sign.  As long as she can keep her mind awake.

The tape recording continues, repeating almost the exact same sentence worded differently each time, and Roni allows herself to become swept up in her own imagination.  She smells her breakfast.  She feels the warmth of her princess bed sheets on her tiny twin sized bed. She hears the birds chirping outside of her window, and her mother humming softly to herself downstairs.  And mostly, she focuses on the words being said over the tape recorder.

It is 9:30am, the morning of June 16th, 1985.

There is a ringing in her ears that starts off very faint, and grows into a sort of buzz.  Roni has heard this noise before-- during early mornings in which she’s just woken up and realizes she has more time before she needs to get out of bed.  It’s the gentle buzz of sleep washing over her like waves on the shore, slowly at first-- just teasing at the tips of her toes, then again with more force.  She’s not going to sleep right now-- she knows this for a fact.  But something is happening, slowly and then all at once, and it’s a strangely comforting feeling.

The buzzing continues, blending with the sound of Roni’s own voice from the speakers of the tape recorder, and Roni remains as relaxed as she possibly can.  The feeling spreads up her legs, manifesting as what feels like a ball in her stomach, and then as warmth all through her nervous system. The tips of her ears grow hot as the ringing grows louder, and then all at once, everything sounds as though she is underwater.  Her body feels heavy.

Holy shit, this is working.

Colorful pictures begin to form in Roni’s mind, flashing by so quickly she can hardly tell what they are at first.  They settle into a nice comfortable pace after a moment, flashing before her like a slideshow with sounds so faint she can hardly make them out.  Try as she might, she can’t seem to focus on any of them, especially the more vibrant they become. 

Is this how this is supposed to feel?

It’s a strange mix of colors and memories suddenly--bright red memories of when she was small, blue memories of high school, green memories of moving in with her grandmother-- and they’re all spinning together with her now standing in the middle.  She doesn’t remember standing before, but suddenly here she is with the overwhelming sense that she needs to walk.  It isn’t necessarily a threatening feeling,  but Roni gets the sense that if she doesn’t move, she’ll be swept away and disappear altogether.  The incessant flashing causes her to grow increasingly dizzy, but not nauseous, (not yet anyway), so she takes her first step.

It feels like a dream.  The kind of dream where you know you need to run, but you can’t.  Where your legs are moving slower than they’ve ever moved before, as if they’ve got weights tied to them.

Through a fog, Roni hears her mother’s voice, and although she can’t see her through the massive jumble of dreamlike memories playing like a movie before her, she reaches out for her.  She tries to call to her with all her might, but no sound comes out-- and the energy put forward just for the simple act of using her voice causes actual pain to Roni’s side.  It feels like she’s crashed into an invisible wall, and she nearly topples to the ground.

But still, she persists.

The memories blur together even more now, and Roni’s beginning to see spots as if she’s been rubbing her eyes for too long. It’s getting harder and harder to walk, yet despite her struggles, Roni isn’t scared.  She pushes on, one foot in front of the other as slow as molasses, blinking through the fog to find something-- anything-- that will lead her to her mother.

The voice she’d heard earlier grows louder, but it is completely unrecognizable.  She isn’t sure if it’s her mother, or even a female at all for that matter, but it is comforting.  She can barely make out the words “Are you alright?”  And she knows she’s close.

Roni reaches her arm out, despite some invisible resistance, hoping that whoever (or whatever) it is that can see her right now will help her.  This, however, seems to use up the last of her energy, and she collapses into another seemingly invisible wall.

The blow is a lot harsher than she’d expected and Roni falls to her knees.  The colors are all gone now; all that remains are the black spots in her eyes which are molding together. She’s not entirely sure whether they’re spots or they’re people.  Strangely enough, however, the darker her vision gets, the less afraid she becomes.  She feels herself smile, relaxing into the ground as the black spots now take more of a shape.  She knows what this is.  She knows she’s safe.

It takes a few attempts, but finally she manages to speak the word she’s been hoping for this entire time?

“Mom?”

And then everything goes black.

---------

11:46pm, December 31st, 1924

It feels like only seconds later when Roni stirs.  She feels air being blown onto her face, and without even opening her eyes yet, she feels terribly hungover.

What happened last night?  She hadn’t had that much to drink, had she?  She remembers taking a shot with Oliver, and heading upstairs… did she black out after that?

She opens her eyes groggily, prepared to be greeted by harsh and unfriendly sunlight-- but she is instead greeted by an unfamiliar British voice and a dark, cold night.

“Yes! Yes, wake up, there’s a good girl…”  A hand brushes her hair off of her forehead and helps to sit her up a bit more, (which does not help her headache in the slightest), and once her eyes fully open she notices a stranger smiling down at her.  She doesn’t recognize anything about this boy, but his presence is somewhat comforting, and he smiles at her like he’s happy to see her.

“Hello!” He says quickly,  “Good evening!  Yes, hi, I think you may have just passed away in my arms and then risen from the dead,  and I want to help you but I’m genuinely not even sure where to begin so please stay awake and tell me what happened to you because--”

It’s strangely familiar and yet foreign at the same time. This is definitely New York. She knows these streets like the back of her hand, but something is off.  The buildings look different and it doesn’t smell like gas and cigarettes, and this strange British boy dressed like he’s from another century is holding her in his arms rambling about her dying.  

“Wait,” Roni says slowly, cutting him off.  She lifts her aching head to get a better look at her surroundings.  This is definitely not where she had planned to end up.

Slowly, as if scared that any motion is going to shatter this strange illusion she’s found herself in, Roni turns back to the boy.  She refuses to allow herself to be scared yet, because she isn’t fully convinced this isn’t a dream.  With all of her might, she attempts to keep her voice calm when she speaks.

“What year is it?”

The boy scoffs at her question, and Roni doesn’t know why it irritates her so much.  

“You’re joking,” he says.  “What kind of question--”

“I’m serious,” Roni snaps.  “What. Year. Is it.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion at her sudden outburst and the sense of urgency behind her question, and he shakes his head when he replies.  “Is this some kind of trick question?  It’s 1924.  But you wouldn’t be able to tell from your...er, costume here.  What do you call this sort of dress anyway?  If you don’t mind my saying so, it’s alarmingly short.”

And now Roni does allow herself to panic.

She scrambles out of the boy’s arms quickly despite the pounding in her head.  Her legs feel a bit shaky, especially on the uneven road beneath her feet.  “No,” she says softly to herself, spinning around to try and catch sight of something that might feel less strange.  “No, this isn’t right. It’s…. it’s supposed to be the 80s.”

“Miss?”  British boy is at it again, rising to his feet and stepping cautiously towards her.  “Did I say something?  If you stay calm, maybe I can help--”

“Calm!” Roni exclaims.  “You want me to be calm right now?  In fucking 1924?”

He seems both shocked and pleased at her words.  “I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t beg my pardon! Don’t… don’t beg anything from me, just-- leave me alone.”  Roni staggers a bit, then stops herself, entirely unsure of where her she wants her feet to take her.  “Let me figure this out.”

“Gee,” he says quietly, almost to himself.  He chuckles.  “Never heard a woman swear like that.  It’s kind of nice.”

Roni stops, turning around on her heels and shooting him a look of disbelief and fury.  “Did you just say…. ‘Gee?’”

“I did, yeah.” The boy nods taking a step towards her.  “Look, now you’re very obviously going through something here, so why don’t we just calm down--”

“This is a dream.”  Roni nods her head, completely ignoring every word out of his mouth.  “This is absolutely a dream.  And I’m going to wake up any second now.”

British boy isn’t sure what exactly to say in response to her, and the whole situation grows increasingly more awkward by the second.  He takes a breath like he’s going to say something, then closes his mouth and exhales loudly through his nose.

“Pinch me,” Roni continues, holding out her arm for him.

“Pardon?”

“Seriously.”  Roni nudges her arm aggressively into the boy’s, and he glances briefly down at where their skin meets.  “Pinch me.  Do it.”

He hesitates once more before that awful smirk appears once more.  “I’m deeply flattered, darling, but at least buy me dinner first.”

Roni groans and throws her hands up in frustration.  “Oh my god, can you just chill with that for like, a sec, dude?”

Laughing softly, he shakes his head as if he, too, cannot believe the situation unfolding in front of him.  “I understood only about three words of that, maybe, and it’s clear to me you don’t want my help. I apologize for saving you from practically braining yourself on the ground here, and if you’ll excuse me, I must be getting home now.”

When he turns, the light brushes his skin for a split second-- long enough for Roni to notice his swollen and purpling eye, and it catches Roni off guard.  He’s barely gotten two steps in when she calls out to him.  “Wait!”

He turns around looking irritatingly pleased, as if he was expecting her to call to him.  “Yes?”

“Did…”  She licks her lips to stall--because she’s certain she already knows the answer-- before pointing at his eye.  “Did I do that?”

It only takes him a split second to answer, and if Roni had blinked, she’d have missed his face falling for a split second.  “What, the eye? You did, yeah.”

She gasps.  “I did?”

“Yeah.”  He takes a step closer.  “You were flailing around and you socked me square in the eye.”

“Oh my god.”

“Can I be on my way now, or did you want to get another good blow in?”

“What am I supposed to do?” Roni is mostly talking to herself. She tugs at the bottom of her dress, becoming painfully aware of how inappropriately dressed she is for this moment in time.

“Well, for starters, we could get you home and into something a little bit warmer. But you never answered my question about what happened to you, so I’m really not sure where to take you.”

Roni feels like she could puke, and she looks back at the boy with tears threatening to fall. “I don’t…. know where you would take me either.”

Genuine concern flashes across his face, and he exhales softly. “You’re seriously scared, aren’t you?”

Nodding slowly, Roni feels the first tear slip from her eye.  “Yeah, I am.”

“Well don’t cry, love.  We’ll get this figured out. Where did you come from?”

How does she answer that? What does she even say that isn’t going to sound absolutely fucking absurd?  “I think…. I mean…”  She sighs, avoiding his eyes when she answers the question.  “1999.”

He blinks once. Then twice.  Roni can tell that it’s not registering in his head, and he almost wants to laugh but, bless him, he’s being so kind. “Come again?”

Roni buries her face in her hands, wishing more than anything that she didn’t have so much makeup on so that she could rub at her eyes. She groans, not even attempting to hide her tears anymore.  “I think I came from the future. I don’t know. I don’t know how I got here and this sounds so fucking bizzare and you don’t have to help me because you don’t even know me, and I understand if you wanna just walk away right now.”  She lets out a shaky breath before continuing. “I have to be dreaming. Like, I have to be, right? I’m so screwed. What the fuck.”

British boy swallows, clearly itching to help her but completely unaware of where to even start. “I…” He closes his mouth, stammering to come up with a response before just settling on stepping towards her. “I’m so sorry.” He reaches forward to awkwardly stoke her arm, and it makes her want to cry even harder.   “I don’t understand.  But I want to help you.”

“This is insane,” Roni mutters, disregarding his words. “It has to be a dream. Like, it has to be.”

“I’m sure it is,” he says, trying and failing to be comforting. “I’m sure you’re going to go to sleep tonight, and wake up tomorrow morning and everything is going to be back to normal.”

Roni can tell even he doesn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, and she fully chokes out a sob now. “You’re being so nice to me,” she wails. “Why?”

“Why not?!” He raises his voice over her cries, as if it’s the stupidest question he’s ever heard. “But, on the subject of going to sleep, where were you intending on staying tonight?”

“Oh god.” Roni ungracefully wipes at her nose. “I hadn’t even thought about that.  Is there like… a hotel nearby or something? None of this looks familiar. I know this area so well. Or at least, I do in… in the future.” The words feel stupid even coming out of Roni’s mouth, and her ears grow hot.

“I can think of something better.” The boy grins. “Stay at my place.”  

“What?!”

He only holds up his hand and continues. “That way, it won’t cost you anything, and at least you won’t be alone while you figure his situation out. You’ll have a friendly face with you tonight, and if in the morning, you don’t wake up from this dream back where you belong— which you will— we can figure out what you’re going to do next. Together.”

Roni sniffs. “Seriously?”

“Call me naive for moving so quickly, but I’m being completely serious, yes. Besides,” he shrugs, “I could use a friend tonight myself.”  There are no implications behind his words, just a sweet dimpled, smile that Roni wants to trust.

In any other situation, Roni would tell him he was crazy and continue on her way.  She knows better than to trust a random man with anything, especially in New York City.  But this is very obviously a dream, because that is the only solution Roni can come up with, and in any case, at least he’s being kind.

So fuck it, she thinks.  What other option does she have?  Find a hotel, spend money she doesn’t seem to have (since she’d left her purse in the fucking 90s, dammit), and stay in a weirdly unfamiliar place?  Or stay with someone she’s just met, who has already made it clear he wants to help her and doesn’t seem to have a malicious bone in his body?  The answer is clear as far as Roni is concerned.

How much weirder could this get?

Roni wipes at her nose again, smiling sadly at the dimpled boy in front of her. “Well,” she says slowly, “I may as well take you up on that.  Since this is just a dream, I reckon it can’t get much worse.”  She giggles softly, then quickly adds.  “If you’re sure I’m not imposing, that is.”

He laughs.  “Don’t be daft, of course you’re not.  I would not have offered if that were the case.  Come with me.”

Roni’s head is spinning just from his odd vocabulary, and she laughs to herself at how insane this whole situation is. Still, she follows him when he walks, falling comfortably into place beside him and matching his stride while willing her tears to dry. She shivers a bit, because for some reason 1924 feels much colder than 1999 did, and she wraps her arms around her middle.

“You must be freezing,” he says.  “Dressed like that, I mean.  Doesn’t leave much to the imagination, you know.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the way I’m dressed,” Roni states, matter-of-factly.  “This dress is hot as hell where I’m from.  And anyway, I’m allowed to dress however I want to, thank you very much. I could run through the streets naked if I wanted to and it would be fine.  Women can do whatever they want and it isn’t up to you to decide.”

“Do you want to run through the street naked?”  The boy isn’t looking at her, but Roni can see his smirk and it annoys her.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t.   But if I wanted to, I could.  What are you doing?”

The boy shimmies out of his coat, which doesn’t even seem to be very warm as it is, and holds it out to Roni.  “Here.”  Roni eyes the coat before slowly taking it from him as he continues.  “You’re right, there isn’t anything wrong with what you’re wearing.  You look beautiful.  But you’re cold, and don’t say you aren’t just because you want to make a point. I saw you shiver.  You need this more than I do.”

Roni huffs out a sigh, because dream boy is right, and she slips the coat on one arm at a time.  It smells strongly of cologne and, oddly, a bit like shoe polish, and although there really isn’t much to it, it does warm her up.  She’s about to thank him when he speaks again.

“What’s your name anyway?”

“Roni.”

It takes Roni a minute to realize he’s stopped walking, and when she turns around she’s met with the most confused yet amused smirk she’s ever seen.  “What?”

“As in… Ronald?”  He asks, a laugh very obviously threatening to bubble out.

Roni rolls her eyes.  “No.  As in Veronica.”

“Oh.”  He lets out a breath that he seems to have been holding, chuckling to himself.  “That  makes much more sense then.”  He resumes walking, and Roni picks up the pace to stay beside him.  “I’m Harry.  As in Harry.”

“Hello, Harry as in Harry.”  It’s Roni’s turn to laugh, because of course his name is Harry. That’s the most old-fashioned name she could ever picture for a British guy, and she applauds her dream brain for being so historically accurate.

Harry laughs to himself as they turn the corner.  “You’re funny, Veronica. I think I’m going to miss you when this dream ends.”

“You don’t even know me!”  Despite her words, Roni is smiling.  

“I know you gave me a black eye.”

And now Roni frowns.  “Yeah.  Sorry ‘bout that.” After a beat, she shrugs.  “Although I’m sure it wasn’t unwarranted.”

Harry ignores her slight dig. “And I know you come from the future.  1998 was it?”

“99,” Roni corrects, then shakes her head at herself.  “That’s so weird to think about.”

“What’s the future like, then?”

Roni laughs.  “It’s hard to say.  Different than this for sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  But then again, who’s to say this is really 1924?  It’s just a dream.”

Harry snorts.  “I can assure you that this is really 1924, love.”

“Whatever you say, bud.”

“Is it possible to actually travel through dreams?”  Harry rubs his hands together, trying to hide how cold he is.  

“I guess so.”  Roni shrugs.  “I mean, you’re looking at the proof right here, aren't you?”

“I suppose.”  The entire time Harry speaks, he’s got a smirk on his face.  It both annoys and intrigues Roni.

“It’s just weird,” Roni says.  “I guess I always pictured the roaring twenties to be more…. Roaring?”

Harry snorts. “I could take you somewhere roaring right now if that’s what you’d like.”

“What I’d like is to go to sleep to wake up in the real world,” Roni says through a laugh.  “Although yeah, it is kinda weird to see New York so… quiet right now.”

“It’s nearing midnight on New Years Eve,” Harry says, shoving his hands in his pockets.  “Everyone is either downtown or asleep.”

Roni nearly stops walking.  “It’s New Years Eve here, too?!”

“I don’t know what it’s like in the future, Veronica, but yes.  It’s New Years Eve here, too.”

“So why aren’t you out celebrating?”

Harry smiles sadly to himself.  “Well. I was at work, and now I’m exhausted.”

“Oh.”  

The next few minutes pass in complete silence, with both of them trying to process everything that’s going on.  “So it’s almost 1925 for you?”

“For you as well, it seems. This way.”  Harry nods his head, turning down an alley.

Roni hesitates to follow him, chewing nervously on her bottom lip at the lack of light in the alleyway.  “Are you sure this is safe?”

Harry laughs, already ascending a set of wrought iron stairs that resemble a fire escape.  “Lived here the past two years.  It’s safe.”

This is just a dream, Roni reminds herself.  With a deep breath, she follows Harry up the steps as he unlocks the door..

Roni isn’t sure what exactly she was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this.

Harry flips a switch that lights the room, and Roni stands in the doorway taking it all in.  The entire apartment is about the size of her and Oliver’s bedroom, with one large living room that is connected to the smallest kitchen Roni has ever seen.  There are two doors, which Roni assumes lead to the bedroom and the bathroom, and it’s then that she becomes aware of the fact that she’s probably going to have to share a bed with dream boy.

Harry walks right on in, heading to the kitchen sink and speaking over his shoulder.   “Here she is,” he says,  “Would you like something to drink?”

Roni is only partly paying attention to him, looking around her and taking in her surroundings.  “No thanks, I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself.  Also, make yourself at home.”  

Harry busies himself with washing his hands, and Roni realizes how tense she is.   She makes a conscious effort to drop her shoulders before taking her heels off.  She hadn’t realized how achey her feet were becoming until right now, and she curls her toes in an attempt to crack them.

“This is a nice place,” is all she can manage to say.

“Thank you! It isn’t much, but it keeps me warm.”  

When Harry finishes washing his hands, he dries them quickly before making his way back over to Roni.

“So,” he says, kicking his shoes off beside her heels.  “What brings you to 1924?”

Truthfully, it’s one of the strangest questions Roni has ever been asked, and she isn’t even sure how to answer it.  She laughs in spite of herself.  “You wanna hear the craziest thing you’ll ever hear in your life?”

Harry beams at her.  “More than anything in the world.”

“I don’t even know how I ended up here.”  Roni shrugs, trying to make sense of everything that has happened to her in the past twenty-four hours.  “I was trying to go back to 1985 to find my mom.  I was hoping that if I could get there, I could stop her from--”  Roni cuts herself off, letting out what would’ve been the rest of that sentence in a big sigh.   “I could change some things around.  That’s all.”

“I see.”  Harry nods.  “And you ended up here instead?”

“I don’t know how or why, but yeah.  Here I am.”

“Here you are.”   Harry nods, taking in a moment of silence before speaking again.  “Well, at any rate, we can at least make you comfortable while you’re here.  I’ll get you some clothes and some clean linens for my bed.”

“Oh you really don’t have to go through all the trouble--”

“I’m not letting you sleep in a dirty bed.”  Harry grins, heading towards a small closet in the corner of the room.  “You’ll have to help me remake the bed though.  I have the hardest time with those fitted sheets.”

“Of course.”  Roni watches Harry gather an armful of sheets from his closet, and it’s the most strangely surreal feeling of her life.  She feels like she’s in a movie, or at the very least, the most realistic dream she’s ever experienced.  She watches as Harry turns back to her and kicks the closet door closed behind him with a smile.  

“This way.”

Harry makes his way across the living room with Roni close on his heels, nudging the door open with his knee. It’s dark until Harry flips another switch, and all Roni sees before her is a medium sized, unmade bed, a dresser, a chair, and a ragged set of curtains over a small window. Harry drops the clean sheets onto his dresser and begins stripping the old sheets off of the bed.

Roni steps more into the room, fidgeting anxiously with the mood ring on her finger.  “Um,” is all she gets out.

Harry doesn’t stop his movements, but he looks up at her.  “Yes?”

“Are we-- uh, sharing the bed?”

Harry laughs as if that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.  “What?! Of course not, don’t be silly.  I’m taking the sofa.”

“But I don’t want to put you out or--”

“Nonsense.  Don’t say that.  It wouldn’t be right if I didn’t take the sofa.”

Roni doesn’t know if she’s relieved or upset, and she lets out a little laugh.  “You’re... Such a good dude, Harry.”

Harry chuckles.  “I take it ‘dude’ is a good thing.”

“In this case, yeah.”

The next few minutes are quiet but not uncomfortable. Harry and Roni work together to strip the bed entirely before placing the soft new sheets on the mattress.  It’s strangely comforting, even if Roni knows nothing about this boy,  and when she finds herself staring at him her cheeks grow hot.

“Thank you, by the way.” Roni’s voice is so soft when she speaks, it takes Harry a moment to realize she’s speaking at all.

“Did you say something?”

Roni clears her throat.  Not only is it unlike her to be timid in anyway, but she absolutely isn’t one to be rude-- even if this is all just a dream.  “I said thank you.  For…”  Roni gestures vaguely with her hands. “For believing me, I guess. I know it all sounds super crazy, and I’m still not 100% convinced that this isn’t all a dream, but still.  Thanks.  You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Oh.”  Harry grins a dimpled grin and resumes pulling the sheets across his bed.  “You’re welcome.”  He smooths out the sheet he’s just laid down, tucking it under the sides of the mattress.  “I’m still not positive it isn’t a dream either, but it would be rude of me to turn away a lost alien seeking refuge on our planet.”  Roni opens her mouth to once again protest, but Harry continues before she has the chance-- his smile growing wider by the moment.  “And anyway, I know I don’t have to do all this.  But I want to.   Least I can do, y’know?”

“Here.”  Annoyed, Roni doesn’t answer him, and instead reaches for the duvet that is laying across the back of the chair to hand it to Harry.  He’s still got that god-awful smirk on his face, and he takes his time to see what she’s offering him.  

Roni, however, is suddenly distracted by the blanket she’s holding.  “Oh cute, this is like, a quilt.  My grandma has like, a million of these.”

“Does she?” Harry cocks his head to the side, grinning almost sarcastically.  “How darling.”  He takes the comforter from Roni’s hands, taking it by the corners and flinging it across the bed.

Roni snorts.  “You’re a little shit, aren’t you?”

Harry laughs.  “A what?”

“You’re…”  Roni struggles to find words he’s going to understand.  “Annoying.  But in an endearing way.”

“Oh.”  Harry beams.  “‘Endearing.’  Don’t think anyone’s ever called me that.”

“Don’t get used to it.”  Roni laughs.  “I’m just thankful to have you here during this nightmare.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Veronica.”  Harry finishes tucking the quilt in, and he smiles at her when he reaches for a pillow to place against the headboard.

“It’s Roni,” she corrects.  “Veronica is too formal.”

“1925 is the year of being formal,” Harry declares.  “I’ve decided it.”

“Well, I have not,” Roni says with a laugh  “It’s just Roni.”

Harry laughs as well, but he doesn’t say anything.  He busies himself with fluffing the pillow up, a lot more than necessary, all while looking at her with a dimpled smile from under his lashes.

The silence lingers just a tick too long, and Roni feels her stomach twist and turn.  She wants to say something-- anything-- to break the silence, but at the same time she almost enjoys feeling hot under his gaze.  The only thing that breaks the silence is the audible inhale she takes when she realizes she’s been holding her breath, and it makes Harry beam.

He straightens up and clears his throat.  “Well, I’ll leave you to it then.  I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted.   There are shirts in the top left drawer, pants in the top right.  I’m sorry I don’t have more to offer you but--”

“But you weren’t expecting a guest from like 75 years into the future.  I get it.”

“Yeah.”  Harry shakes his head but he’s laughing, making his way to the door.  “Well, Veronica, I sincerely hope for your sake that when you wake tomorrow, you’re in the correct time.  But for now,  I have genuinely enjoyed your company.  I’ll be sad to see you go so soon.”

His words tug at Roni’s heart, although she doesn’t know why.  “I have to say, I’ll be sad to leave  so soon.  But I appreciate your hospitality.  And your accent.”

Harry laughs a laugh that Roni hasn’t heard before.  It’s high pitched and it comes out of his mouth in a quick burst.  Her body’s natural reaction is to beam.  “Thank you,” he says.  “I’m very proud of the accent.”

“You should be!”

Another strangely loaded few moments pass, with words that Roni hasn’t even planned out just dancing on the tip of her tongue.  But before she can say anything, Harry clears his throat and begins to make his way out the door.

“Well, goodnight, Veronica.  Happy new year.”

Roni scoffs.  “Yeah, happy new year, Harold.”

Harry smirks.  “It’s just Harry.”

“Yeah well, it’s also just Roni but we can’t seem to get that squared away so here we are.”

With one last shake of his head, Harry laughs and closes the door behind him.  Roni isn’t exactly sure what it is she’s feeling  and although it is definitely foreign, this time it isn’t necessarily bad.

Five minutes later, Roni flips the light switch off and crawls into Harry’s bed wearing a long t-shirt of his.  She’s decided to skip the pants for tonight, opting for comfort instead of modesty since she knows she is going to be out of here come morning.

The sheets are cold and soft, and their smell is comforting the second she burrows under them.  She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was, and she knows she’s going to be asleep in under five minutes. She can still see the light from the living room peeking through the crack underneath the bedroom door, indicating that Harry hasn’t yet gone to sleep.

Roni wonders what he’s doing, and she feels a pang of guilt when she thinks about the fact that she’s stealing his bed tonight.  She knows this is just a dream, of course, but at the same time she’s never going to forget this 1924 boy who was so gracious to her-- even if  he’s nothing but a dream.

The last thought Roni has before drifting into unconsciousness is how badly she wishes she had more time with this boy.

[pi-cat000]

MSA shorts (Lewis and Arthur)

Summary: Arthur gets into trouble. Lewis gets him out again. (Lewis and Arthur friendship piece)

Context: So this is a discarded scene from the ‘msa time travel idea.’ It’s set before canon and was originally going to be a flashback. You don’t have to read the ‘ msa time travel idea’  to enjoy it. 

...

Arthur immediately notices the motorbike when it pulls off the highway, engine revving, ties squeaking across the pavement. It slides right into the only vacant spot outside Pepper's Paradiso, taking up all the space, leaving no room for additional vehicles.

Though the muscle-bike is impressive, heavy, built for long distance travel, it’s not that which draws his interest. As the bike's leather-clad rider kills the excessively loud engine, Arthur’s attention is pulled to an incongruent rattle, signalling a loose bolt or screw. Not immediately noticeable, drowned out by other motor noises, Arthur strains to place the potential fault. He squints up at the engine, scanning the bike's frame. He can’t tell from where he’s sitting, but the impressive array of exhaust piping seams off.

The staring earns him a harsh glare from the bike’s owner who stalks past. Arthur averts his gaze down to the pavement, unwilling to provoke someone who’s either in a bad mood or generally spoiling for a fight. A familiar bell chime, the diner doors open, and the man disappears inside. Casually, Arthur stands, pauses for a beat, then meanders away from the entry in the direction of the bike.

He is in the middle of waiting for Lewis to finish his shift. It’s taking longer than usual, the dinner seeing an abnormal increase in customers for this time of day. Of course, Lewis has to hang back and help his parents deal with the sudden rush. It has left Arthur with little to do but loiter in the carpark, watching patrons come and go. Despite his friend’s insistence that he take a table inside, Arthur’s not a fan of crowds or noise and doesn’t want to occupy any space or attention when they’re so busy. Thus, outside, sitting on the curb, fiddling with his phone, is where Arthur’s been.

The bike is the first exciting thing to happen in the last thirty minutes. Nonchalantly, Arthur glances over his shoulder, but there is no sign of Lewis or the bike’s owner. He really should leave this alone, that leather-guy looks like a person he doesn't want to piss off. Arthur circles the bike, ignoring his better judgment. He’ll make this quick. After he confirms his suspicions, he’ll resume his patient sitting.

The bike is doubly impressive up close.

One of the band-clamps, connecting the exhaust piping to the collector, is loose. Arthur eyes it critically, crouching down to get a proper view.  Shoddy maintenance work, he concludes quickly. Someone has obviously taken the whole bike apart, replaced several pieces, then rushed putting it back together. The error, not something immediately noticeable, will inevitably screw things up in the long term. It’s a shame because the bike is really nice. He stands and takes a step back. Okay. Suspicion confirmed. Time to bug out and mind his own business.

Quickly, Arthur powerwalks over to his van on the opposite side of the parking lot, pulls out his toolbox, snatches the correct wrench and powerwalks back, crouching back down. If he quickly tightens that bolt there and moves this a bit here, it’ll shore-up the pipe’s integrity and prevent a major failure.

“Oi. What the fuck are you doing.”

Arthur doesn’t even manage to tighten the first bolt. A hand grabs the back of his vest and yanks him away hard. He goes sprawling across the concrete, getting his arms under him, so he narrowly avoids hitting his head. On his back, Arthur squints up at a bulky, leather wearing, very angry, bike owner.

Rattled from hitting the ground, Arthur blurts, “Nothing!” An angry scowl is his unfavourable response.

“I mean,” He rushes to clarify, holding up his incriminating wrench, “I’m obviously doing something, but it’s nothing bad. I swear. “

“Sure kid,” Knuckles are cracked, “and I’m a priest spreading the good word.”

Damnit, why couldn’t he have just left well enough alone?  Quick, talk fast, explain the situation.

“The exhaust pipe is super screwy. Whoever put it together is an idiot, they obviously don’t know what they are doing…ah…”

“What did you say…” The man steps over him, casting a threatening shadow. Okay. That was the wrong thing to say. The guy is probably friends with the mechanic or is the mechanic. Arthur is very aware of how his downed position places him in a precarious spot. Regret. He regrets everything!

Before the taller man can take a proper swing a foreign hand flashes out from behind, catching his arm.

“Is there a problem?” Lewis steps around into view, still dressed in his chef uniform, shooting Arthur a puzzled glance. Arthur shrugs helplessly, having no excuse for the current situation.  

“Fuck off, this isn’t none of your business,” The leather-guy continues to scowl at Arthur, yanking at the grip.

“I work for this diner. And that’s a friend of mine,” Lewis steps forward, so he’s hovering near Arthur’s head. Slowly, he releases the other’s arm. The leather-wearing bike owner shifts in response, giving Lewis a critical once over. Unlike Arthur, who is wiry, athletic and generally unthreatening, Lewis is tall, heavy-set, and very intimidating when he wants to be. Usually, that’s enough to deter a fight, and deterring is important because Lewis hates physical confrontation.

There are a tense few moments while leather-guy considers Lewis like he’s weighing up the pros and cons of starting a brawl right then and there. Luckily, the guy’s not a complete nut-job and, after some inaudible grumbling, steps away.

“Little punk insulted my baby,” Is groused as the guy stomps back towards his bike, dismissing both him and Lewis.  

“Ah, your exhaust pipe is loose. I was trying to fix it,” Arthur calls after him, sitting upright now he’s not in danger of being punched. Lewis, who is in the process of helping Arthur up, gives him a withering look.

The leather guy turns slowly, growling, “Like I believe that shit.”

“Arthur’s a mechanic,” Lewis explains diplomatically, pushing Arthur behind him and out of sight, “A good mechanic. If he says there is something wrong with your engine, then there probably is.”

A disbelieving grunt, but the other man doesn’t come back towards them, “Whatever kid.”

The leather-guy mounts his bike, calling, “A word of advice. Don’t start fights when ya can’t follow through.” The engine roars and both rider and bike tear out the car park and onto the highway. A second later and they are gone. Lewis breaths out a sigh and turns to give Arthur an exasperated frown. He is tense, not entirely happy.

“What was that about?”

Arthur grimaces, feeling a bit guilty for dragging Lewis into a potentially dangerous situation, “Yeah. Okay. So that wasn’t my brightest moment, but there really was something wrong with the exhaust pipe.”

“And what. You just decided to fix it without informing the possessive owner?” Lewis gestures at the wrench he’s still holding. Now the adrenaline is fading, Lewis is relaxing, sounding a mix of amused and exasperated.

“It was a nice bike,” Arthur defends, “and I thought he would be in the diner for longer.”

Lewis shakes his head, “Nope. Only here for the restrooms. Saw him leave one as I was finishing.”

“I sort of figured,” Arthur mutters, examining the grazes running up both his elbows. Blood is pooling just under displaced skin. Probably a result of hitting the pavement. Lewis watches, wincing in sympathy.

“Do you want…”

“I’ve got gauze in the van,” Arthur anticipates the question, “Ugh. Some people have zero chill. What do you think? A gang member or something.”

“Not sure. He’s staying in the Tempo Motor Inn. So, we at least we know where to avoid for a while.”

Arthur pauses his inspection, glancing at Lewis, a question on his lips.

“The perks of grocery shopping multiple times a week. Mrs Burton mentioned seeing an ‘unpleasant man in leather around the motel.’ How many men in leather can there be?”  Lewis elaborates, walking over to pick up his bag, which lying discarded near the diner’s entrance.

“Lots. If it’s a gang.” Arthur jokes, adding, “And Vivi says there are no benefits to gossiping.”

Lewis laughs, finally losing the last vestiges of tension, his shoulders relaxing. He slings his bag over a shoulder. Likewise, Arthur also lets himself relax, thankful his dumb idea hadn’t caused irreparable harm. They both start walking towards his van. Vivi’s still needs to be picked up. Arthur has already texted her, but he doesn’t want her to wait any longer than necessary. While Arthur pulls out his first aid kit, Lewis pulls off his work clothes, messing around with his hair till it sits right.

“At least it’ll make an interesting story,” Arthur remarks, wincing as he applies disinfectant to the injury. Lewis takes the driver’s seat, Arthur being preoccupied. Not long after they hit the town proper, quickly navigating the sparse streets. Vivi is easily spotted, a blue blob, sitting on the steps outside her workplace, eyes glued to a thick book. Lewis sounds the horn to get her attention, causing her to glance up, frown quickly turning to a grin.

NOTE: Hey look I wrote something that’s not angsty

[zecretsanta]

The Storykeeper

To: @silvershoelaces

From: @morisninethlion

I was super excited to get to work on this one! The question of what happened to Alice and Clover after VLR has been on my mind since i first finished, and got even more strong after I played ZTD, so I was super pumped up to finally have reason to write something out for it! I hope you like it, and I hope you have a great holiday season :D

Ao3

It had been a few hours after Sigma’s consciousness had gotten traded with the Doctor’s when she and Alice were approached by Akane inside the lounge, Clover stiffening up almost immediately. Everything about this situation was frustrating- after all the crap she’d lived through, she and Alice were now stuck forty-five years in a future without anyone they knew. They’d been completely left behind- and even Phi, who should’ve been in a similar situation, had closed herself off completely.

Tenmyouji- no, Junpei- and Quark were waiting in the B. garden for their shuttle to earth to be prepared, and Luna had been watching over Kyle while he slept. Dio was locked up somewhere, but Clover didn’t care about him. No, it was just her and Alice trying to figure out what in the world they could possibly do, when Akane walked in.

“Good afternoon.”

“Oh, uh… hey.” She still didn’t really know how to talk to Akane like this, honestly. She seemed too dignified (and not to mention old), and it was hard to really think of her like the same girl from the nonary game. “Were you looking for Junpei, or something? He’s not here, he’s-“

“No, I came to speak with the two of you.”

“Huh?” Raising an eyebrow, Clover quickly looked over to Alice, who only seemed to be sharing the same guarded confusion. “Why would you want to talk to us?”

“I have information I believe will be of interest to the two of you.”

Clover quickly tugged at Alice’s hand, the both of them turning aside from Akane to speak together for just a moment. Neither of them were really sure if they could trust her- but could it really hurt to listen at this point? There was nothing more they could possibly lose, not at this point. Eventually it was Clover taking the lead again, looking back to Akane.

“Alright then.”

 Akane seemed almost vaguely amused with herself- or perhaps Clover was just reading her entirely wrong? Honestly, it was impossible to tell what Akane was thinking.

“To start, I can imagine you aren’t pleased with your situation, but-“

“Not pleased? Not pleased?” Clover rose to her feet with a huff, clenching her fists. “You bet your ass I’m not pleased! You drag us out of our own time just to dump us like this- and you think we’d be pleased with this?! You made me play another nonary game! You, of all people, should know that I am EXPLICITLY NOT PLEASED WITH THIS!”

There still wasn’t any readable change of expression on Akane’s face, but she had taken a step back- it’d seem like not even she saw Clover’s outburst. She felt herself calm slightly when Alice placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her- but she could feel the same anger from Alice, just calmer. More refined.

“I do apologize, Clover. But your presence was necessary for our plan-“

“Well fat lot of good it did us! Doesn’t the fact that we’re here mean you already failed?”

“…..yes. However, that is not what I wanted to talk with you about.”

“Then what did you want to talk about?”

“A chance for you to regain your lost time.”

Clover was knocked speechless at such a ridiculous-sounding statement, so Alice began speaking instead.

“What are you talking about? Isn’t that impossible?”

“No, it is not. On earth, there’s a machine- with its use, it is possible for you to return to your lost past.” Akane shook her head gently, lacing her fingers together as she spoke. “However, there are conditions to it before I tell you more.”

 “Alright then, what are those?”

“Firstly, you must accept the results given to you. You may return to the past, or you may continue on this time- your existence will continue from both points in time, so your consciousness might not be the version that moves to the past. Second, you must not abuse this machine. Continued use could have the potential for unforeseen side-effects, that not even I could understand. Finally… you cannot leave this timeline.”

Stomping her foot in frustration, Clover cut in.

“What? I thought the entire point of this was to get us off this timeline!”

“No. You must agree to simply move to a far earlier point on this same timeline- The day the outbreak began.”

“Why would we ever agree to something like that? I don’t want to live on a timeline like this-“

“It is not because I want you to suffer. It is simply because this is the only timeline where your existence will not cause a contradiction.”

“…what?”

“In past uses of this machine, people always went to timelines where the selves that originally existed there had already died. As a result, there was no potential for contradiction. I only know of one person who didn’t follow this logic- a rather foolish man, who simply avoided his past self for a year of his life.”

Despite her words, there seemed to be a slight hint of amusement behind Akane’s words. Whoever this ‘foolish man’ had been, it would seem like Akane didn’t think poorly of him- or perhaps Clover was just misinterpreting things again.

“So, you’re saying that if we moved to a different timeline and saw ourselves, time would get screwy?”

“I don’t know.”

“….what?” Clover stared blankly before looking over to Alice, who only shrugged. “What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“I mean, this isn’t something I have ever experimented with. The results could be entirely harmless, or it could result in an entire timeline’s collapse. The chances are high that you wouldn’t live through the encounter- I doubt the morphogenetic fields would know how to process the information of such a meeting.”

“So…. If I saw my double, I’d run the risk of destroying the entire world?”

“Potentially, yes.”

“…okay. Okay, sure.” Frustrated, Clover folded her arms. “So you’re telling me you know of some sort of nondescript time machine that can send us back in time, but we can only use it to move back to this timeline, otherwise we might accidentally destroy a world or something.”

“Yes, that’s how to put it simply.”

“Are you serious?” With a huff, Clover finally sat herself back down. “How could we possibly believe something like that? It’s insane!”

“You believe us about the earth-“

“That’s different! I can see that with my own eyes- it’s hard, but it’s real. This, though? There’s no way any of that’s real- just… just go away. Stop messing around, Akane. We played our part, helped you guys out… so just leave us alone. Stop doing this.”

“Well.” Seeming to realize she was no longer welcome, Akane gave a slight shrug. “I suppose I expected as much. Still, I would’ve expected you to be more the type to take the chance.”

She walked out, leaving Clover and Alice alone. The older woman sat down beside Clover, and the mood only seemed to get more depressing.

“Alice… do you think she was lying?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I can’t say it at all sounds plausible… but I didn’t think cryogenic freezing had been perfected either. And yet, here we are…”

“Yeah… but a time machine?”

“It doesn’t sound too realistic, does it…”

“No, it doesn’t.” Clover started to wring her fingers in the way she often did when nervous or thinking about things, eyes scanning the floor for nothing in particular. “It doesn’t make any sense at all, but… does she really have any reason to lie?”

“…at this point, not really.”

Both of them sighed in unison, taking a moment to pause and just think.

“Alice… I… I know I just yelled at her, but… it wouldn’t hurt to at least learn more, right?”

“The worst that could happen is nothing happening, as far as I can tell. I hardly imagine she’d plan to throw us into another game.”

“Yeah…”

“Then… do you want to talk to her about it?”

“I… I do. This might… be my only chance, after all.” She didn’t want to say it, but she hadn’t been able to get in contact at all with Light. She’d just been hoping that it was due to the resonance effect- but the chance that it wasn’t and that something bad had happened to him was all too terrifying. “I just… even if it’s a cruel joke, I… want to at least have a chance at knowing……”

Finding themselves once again at a reluctant consensus, they both got up- they’d just have to find Akane, and get more information out of her. And hopefully this all wouldn’t turn out to be some sort of horrible, horrible joke.

–

It was in this method that they’d found themselves joining Junpei and Quark on the shuttle back to earth, after having gotten plenty of detailed instructions written out by Akane, as well as precise coordinates of where they were supposed to go. They’d asked her why she wasn’t coming with them- but she’d just waved it off with an ‘its not my place anymore’, leaving both Clover and Alice to assume she simply didn’t want to be trapped in a shuttle with Junpei for many long hours.

It’d seemed like Junpei didn’t want to talk much himself, though- he’d sat down in his seat fairly quickly after takeoff and not said a word since, outside of a few words to Quark that’d been too quiet for Clover to make out.

Still, despite the somewhat awkward mood, Clover still found herself fascinated by the trip. After all, this was space- certainly not something she’d ever expected to experience! It was almost surreal to watch the moon grow smaller behind them as the ship flew, the red earth on the other side of the horizon growing slowly bigger.

“So, Quark, what was it like living with Junpei?”

“Huh? Oh, Grandpa’s great!”

Quark had gotten out of his seat to look out of the window with Clover, both of them holding onto a railing to keep from floating aimlessly.

“I still find it hard to believe… I mean, not just Junpei being old, but him actually having kids…”

“Oh, actually, Grandpa adopted me.”

“O-Oh? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“It’s okay. We’re still a family.” His smile was large, although it couldn’t stop Clover entirely from feeling bad. “So, you and Alice are coming to live on earth too?”

“Well… it’s a bit more complicated than that. But… kinda, yes?”

“…okay!”

If it worked, they’d go back in time and live through the end of the world. If it didn’t, then they’d… well, probably just hang around Junpei and Quark. There was the option of going back to the moon, yes- but it was… a little awkward. Phi had shut herself off, Luna seemed to be far more awkward and reserved than she’d been before, and there was the obvious problem of Akane and Sig- Doctor Klim being around. It just wasn’t a situation that had sounded enjoyable to either of them to remain in, even if living on earth hardly sounded pleasant either.

The trip was largely uneventful, broken up only by low conversation and the sounds of Junpei snoring at the five hour mark, having fallen asleep. Alice stayed in her seat a majority of the time, but Clover found herself just fascinated by watching the window. This was… space. She’d seen pictures and videos as a kid, heard things about the space stations and stuff out there- but it had never even crossed her mind that she’d be able to actually go to space.

Junpei was woken up by a little announcement coming on that they’d soon be re-entering the earth’s atmosphere, giving a warning to buckle up as if this was a simple plane ride across the country or something, and not through space. She did as the voice said, sitting herself down and buckling herself in, looking over to Alice nervously.

The landing was rough compared to an airplane, but still smoother than she’d expected. Quark and Junpei didn’t even look too horribly put out- Quark was just bouncing in his seat, presumably from excitement.

He was the first one off the shuttle when the announcement said it was safe, jumping out of his seat with the amount of energy she would’ve expected from a kid around his age and running outside. Next out was Junpei, just pausing for a moment to see if they were following.

When they finally stepped out onto the pavement of the landing area, everything seemed to stop for a moment.

There had been a degree of plausible deniability from the shuttle, and from the moon. They could just say that the visors were faked, or the window was really a screen- but no. No, looking up at the sky with their own eyes proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that what had happened to the earth was no lie. The world truly had ended.

Junpei didn’t say anything for a while, silent as Quark ran off towards an old-looking pickup truck a short ways off. There was nothing that could truly be said to someone experiencing this for the first time- and Clover could only imagine what it had been like to live through the things that had brought the world to this point.

They stood in silence for what felt like hours until finally Junpei called them over, standing outside of the old pickup.

“I’m driving this time, Clover.” There was a grin on his face when he spoke, as if attempting to break the tension heavy in the air. “Can’t have you busting this thing up like you did that poor Jeep.”

“Hey! I didn’t break it- it just got a little dirty!”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I trust your driving.”

Clover turned to look to Alice for support, but she only chuckled and gave Clover a pat on the back. She wasn’t that bad- yeah, maybe she’d gone a little fast, but that was just because there was no speed limit in the desert! She’d drive more carefully with a kid on board… but to be honest, she didn’t really want to drive. She didn’t know this place at all, and… well, she wanted some time to take it in. Really absorb what she was looking at, because just a few moments wasn’t nearly enough.

The drive away from the landing pad was about three hours, being mostly silent as all the passengers just looked out the windows at the passing scenery. Skyscrapers were destroyed, houses and apartments collapsed in on themselves… the buildings that weren’t ruined showed clear wear and tear from the years, with weeds and shrubs overgrown and pushing through cracks in pavement.

It was a bit surprising how many plants there actually were- but then again, Junpei had said the nuclear winter was seven years long, so it had to’ve ended a long time ago… there were plenty of dead trees and bushes, but not all of them were dead.

The only real noise inside the truck, outside of the rumble of the engine, was when the sound of the radio picked up. It seemed to be something generic, talking about something to do with a place Clover didn’t recognise the name of- Junpei let out a slight grunt of acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything more. Perhaps that was where they were headed, then? She hadn’t really thought about it, but the place probably had a name… but she wasn’t going to be staying there.

After a while the truck started to slow, entering a run-down looking town area. Clover didn’t pay much attention to the turns they were making until they pulled into a driveway to a rather small house, turning the truck off and getting out.

“Well? We’re here.”

“This is… the place?”

“No, this is my house. I’m tired, I’m not driving you there today.”

“Aha.. fair enough.”

Despite the look on the outside, the inside of the house was… strangely normal. Sure, the paints and wallpapers were faded, and some parts of the house looked like they had a permanent layer of dust to them, but it was just… a normal house. A place that people lived.

“I, uh, I’ve only got one guest bedroom, but I’ll sleep on the couch-“

“No, it’s fine.” Alice smiled, shaking her head. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“It’s not really…” He paused when he saw the look on Alice’s face, before just shrugging and scratching at the back of his head. “Alright then. I’ll grab a couple blankets for you though, it can get cold at night.”

“Thank you.”

He left the guest room at that point, Clover seated on the bed and Alice standing by an old-looking desk.

“I could’ve taken the couch, Alice.”

“Nonsense. I’m not going to let my subordinate take the couch while I get a bed, that would hardly be fair.”

“I… Alice, I don’t think we really need to talk like that anymore, do we?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean… is there any point to it? At this point, SOIS is… gone for sure.” She sighed, shoulders heavy. “I don’t work for you anymore, not really.”

“I… suppose.” She paused, looking aside. “But still, I’m not going to let you take the couch.”

There was a long silence, eventually broken by Quark knocking at the door and announcing that there was food. The meal itself was short and simple, and they all went to sleep directly after- even if there were countless things swirling in Clover’s mind, she couldn’t bring herself to ask anything. So instead she just stared up at the ceiling until sleep finally came for her, pulling her under.

–

They were all up fairly early the next day- despite how fast Clover’s mind had been she’d ended up sleeping well, but that didn’t stop her from being up far earlier than she normally was. Junpei had already started on breakfast by the time she was there, yet another simple meal that they ate quickly, before Junpei and Quark left for about a half-hour. Quark wasn’t with him when Junpei returned- he’d dropped Quark off with a friend, it seemed. Clover couldn’t blame him for it, if she’d had her kid go through a nonary game, then she’d be taking no chances.

He’d looked… frustrated when he seemed to realize where the coordinates Akane had given them led, and Clover couldn’t say she was too fond of returning to the Nevada desert herself. It somehow looked more barren and desolate than she even remembered… and in the middle of it all was what seemed to be a hole in the ground.

“Of course it’s here…”

“What’s here?” It looked like Junpei hadn’t wanted either of them to hear it, but that wouldn’t stop Clover from asking. “Have you been here before?”

“Yeah… once. This is…. Well, this isn’t where the Mars simulation took place, but it’s where I ended up.”

“Wait, what? I, uh… back up a little there, Junpei.”

“This is where everything… the end of everything started here, from what I gather. This is where radical-6 got out.”

“And Akane wanted us to come back?”

“Apparently so.”

Junpei stopped answering questions after that, only giving halfhearted grunts in response to whatever they had to say. It was pretty clear that there was no point in saying much more- so they all stood in silence as the platform they were on started up, acting as a lift and taking them down, down, down into the depths.

Everything about the place down there looked… off. One of the walls was just a pile of collapsed rubble, another was a gaping hole where a large metal door looked like it’d been blown off- and it was faint, but along the ground were what looked like bloodstains. Junpei paid them no real mind, continuing to walk forwards, but it was clear he was bothered by something.

The instructions told them where to go inside the place, staring at the large walls of what was clearly some sort of shelter.

“Tenmyouji, what is this place?”

“I’m… not sure. I don’t remember.”

“You don’t- are you just kidding around?”

“No, I’m not.” His face grew dark for a moment, before shaking his head. “I can’t remember a thing. I’ve been trying to remember for fourty-five years now, but still… I don’t. I don’t remember a thing.”

“Oh…”

They went silent yet again, walking through the dust-covered halls. There was something decidedly uncomfortable about the place to Clover, almost as if it were a memorial, or…  a tomb. But no- that was silly. Just silly.

They reached a room that seemed even more off than the rest, with the same tall structure and weird ‘pods’ that Akane had described in her letter to them. They went through the instructions that she left and got the device to power up… but was this really a good idea?

No, there was no real turning back now. They had to do this.

“Hey, Junpei?”

“Mh?”

“Thanks. For taking us out here- you didn’t have to do that, but I appreciate it. I really do.”

He simply shrugged and nodded, waving as Alice and Clover got into the pods as per the instructions. She couldn’t shake the anxiety, it was insane- but they had to do this. If they were going to reclaim those last forty-five years, then they would do this.

Closing her eyes as the pod around her started to grow bright, Clover let that be the last thought in her mind before things went dark.

–

–

“Clover? Clover, are you okay?”

“Mnnh… huh?” Clover blinked when the door to the pod opened up, realizing something off- she was in the export pod… right? Yes, there was no doubt about it, she most certainly was. “Alice, did it work? Are we- is this the past?”

“From what I can tell, yes… at the very least, this place doesn’t look nearly as dusty.”

“Well then, let’s…”

Anxiety was gripping tightly at Clover’s chest, but she shook it off. They both did- they made way back outside, back out past the collapsed wall and the blown-off door… and out to the currently fresh bloodstains.

“What… the hell happened here?”

There was a lot of blood, enough to imply that people had most certainly died. Were they… had they been the first radical-6 victims, perhaps? Or did they have something to do with that collapsed wall… no, there was no point dwelling. They couldn’t let themselves dwell.

Calling the elevator back down with held breath, Clover and Alice waited for what felt like the hundredth time that day until they were back at the surface. They were taken aback at what they saw- multiple emergency services vehicles were present, with police and ambulance and firetrucks. Before either of them could react they’d been swarmed by about ten different people at once, asking questions and demanding answers- Clover stepped back a bit behind Alice; who was far better at talking in a situation like this. She managed to clear the air on what was going on and got them a ride back to the nearest city, but now wasn’t time for that for Clover.

[Light? Light, are you th-]

[Clover! My god, Clover, what happened? Where are you? Are you alright? I’ve been trying to contact you, but-]

[It’s… it’s a long story, Light. I’m alright now, I’m with Alice, but… that’s not the thing we need to be worried about now. We need to find some place safe.]

[…safe? Clover, what are you talking about?]

[Light… it’s the end of the world.]

[No… does that mean, Free the Soul…?]

[Yeah… we were too late to stop it. What we need to do now is find someplace safe, and take care of whatever survivors we can.]

[I… I see. I’ll get in contact with the others.]

[Thanks, Light. We’ll be back soon, okay? I promise, I’ll explain everything. I promise.]

–

The two of them had gotten on a flight almost as soon as reaching the city, making way to SOIS headquarters and all of the others that they worked with. Clover ignored the concern from everyone else, though- what was most important was that she found her brother. She didn’t even wait to say hello before she’d launched herself into his arms, sobbing and holding him close.

“I’m so glad… I missed you so much, Light…”

“Clover… I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I’m sorry I worried you…”

“What matters now is that you and Alice are back. And, that we have time to figure out what will happen next.”

“Yes. About that, actually.” Alice interrupted the reunion, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. It was currently just them and the other kids from the first nonary game (sans Akane and Aoi, of course) gathered around a table, Alice standing at the head. “We need a plan. According to this, we have a general timeline of when things will happen. Our deadline is April 13th, 2029.”

She laid out the note they’d gotten from Akane, and all at once everyone was speaking on top of each other.

“How can we trust that?”

“Where did it come from?”

“Where were you guys?!”

“Is the world really going to end?”

“How could you know this, but not know how to stop it-“

“Everyone, please be quiet.” Light’s voice cut through the noise, calm and collected as always. “I don’t think there would be any reason whatsoever for Alice to want to lie about this, no? And even if that message is wrong, is preparation really a bad thing? We either be prepared for an apocalypse that doesn’t happen, or stand unprepared for one that does. And one of those options certainly sounds more pleasant than the other.”

Nobody really had grounds to argue him on that- after all, it was true. If there was even the slightest chance the note was true (as Clover and Alice knew it was), then they couldn’t take the risk. It was just too dangerous.

The meeting went on for a while after that, trying to figure out exactly what they could do. SOIS and the government had shelters prepared for the worst, in case things went wrong, so they’d decided that’s what they’d do. Each shelter would have one transmitter and one receiver to keep contact flowing in a ‘network’ of sorts… it meant they would all be split up from their siblings, but it was a pain that they would have to deal with. Besides, the shelters weren’t terribly far apart- so long as they had cars, once the worst was over, they could reunite. It would be seven long years, but… they could do it. They could handle this.

–

“Light, you… please be careful, okay? Take care of yourself?”

“I will, Clover.”

“Alright…”

She’d told him everything about the game and about the end, but she’d never mentioned one particular fact- the fact that she hadn’t been able to contact him. As far as she knew… Light would die. But so long as he lived through these seven years, it’d be fine- she just… she wanted to be there. At the very least, she figured she could deal with it if she was there.

“You’ll be careful as well, right Clover? I doubt Akane would do anything considering she has you and Alice in this timeline as well, but… don’t be careless.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Light turned to go to the supply van that was going to take him to his shelter for the next seven years, but was stopped short by Clover throwing her arms around him one last time, hugging him tight and holding him close.

“Be safe, Light. You’re the best brother in the world, you know that? I love you. Be careful.”

“Clover…” He sighed, patting her hair for a moment. “I will, I promise. I will be fine. I’ll see- well, not me, but you’ll see me again when it’s safe again. The time will go by faster than you think, I’m sure.”

“I… Alright.” Finally letting go, Clover let him start walking away. “I will see you again, Light! I will!”

Ignoring the doubt that sat in the bottom of her mind, she let herself just believe in that. It had to be true. She’d… she’d see him again.

–

The ride to her own shelter felt long, too long, accompanied only by nervous fidgeting from Nona and he sound of Clover tapping her fingers again the armrest of her seat, while Alice drove. The thing had been stocked full as it could go, and apparently the shelter itself was already well-stocked… this was more personal belongings. Lotus (no, Hazuki) and Seven (when would he give them a real name?) had ended up at different shelters, Lotus with Ennea and Seven with Light. She was glad they’d at least be safe- but even knowing that Junpei would be alive, that didn’t mean she didn’t wish that they’d been able to find him. It seemed unlikely that he’d make it into a shelter from how he’d spoken, but still… well, she’d told everyone else to make sure it got to her if a ‘Junpei Tenmyouji’ entered any of the shelters. That was enough.

Entering the thing after arriving felt… final. There were all sorts of radios and communication devices set up, a power generator that would last for (according to Alice) at least fifty years, and walls upon walls of preserved food and huge tanks of stored water, as well as things for purifying air and… well, a ton of other things Clover didn’t entirely get but was certain they were important too.

The three of them set up pretty quick inside of the place, and then just… got ready to wait. People would find out about this place sooner or later, and they’d have to filter out the sick ones… but they could do this. Even if these shelters only ended up saving a handful of people, it was something- so she’d take it.

–

There were only 12 people in their shelter the day the reactors went off- all of the other ones had far more, from what it sounded like, but their was apparently in a bit of an odd location for people to reach. They’d had the radios going when everything got loud, and then cut to static. The whole shelter was dead silent at the knowledge of what’d happened… this was really, truly the end. Even with the knowledge that it wasn’t over, the world would recover, it would never be the same. The earth as they knew it was gone now- you’d have a better luck of finding something similar on the moon eventually, from what she understood.

[Light… you there?]

[Yes. This is… it, right?]

[Yeah… yeah, it is.]

[Are you holding up alright, Clover?]

[I’m fine. I was… I was prepared for this. Are you alright?]

[As alright as I can be. I’ll be fine Clover, you know that.]

[I do. I know. How’s Seven?]

[He’s doing well. People listen to him well- turns out he’s rather good at dealing with people. Never would’ve expected that.]

[Aha, yeah..]

[How’s Alice?]

[She’s doing well too. She’s a lot better at keeping the peace than I am, at least..]

[I’m sure things will be fine, Clover.]

[Yeah… yeah. They’ll be fine.  I’ll talk to you later, okay Light?]

[Okay, Clover.]

As easy as it was to say, that didn’t make things any easier in reality. But things would be alright- they’d all make it through this. Things would be fine.

–

They’d made it up to 26 people after the first year, and 45 by the third. Less and less people seemed to show up with time, probably because they were… well, they were dead, or they’d gone to the moon. A handful of people had left at one point when the notifications about the Lunar Extraction Program went live, attempting to make it into the Rhizomes… and they’d never been heard from after. Clover could only hope that they’d managed to make it in, and not ended up dead… she didn’t have much reason to believe they were alive, but she had to have hope. So long as she could cling to that hope, then she could pull through.

And the years did pass by far more quickly than she’d expected them to, even within the confines of the little shelter. Times got tense far more often than she’d like, nobody was ever happy with their situations, but they could pull through. They had to pull through.

It was December of 2035, December second to be exact- the day that Clover had moved her birthday to, so she could share it with her brother. Nobody gave gifts or anything, but she still liked to keep it in mind- she and Light would always spend the day talking back and forth a little more than usual, trying to keep in good spirits. This year she would turn twenty-five, a whole six years after the explosions… and soon, it’d be seven years. Soon they’d be able to get out, to see the world for what’d happened… she’d be able to see her brother again. Things would turn out alright, they had to turn out alright.

“Clover, there you are.” She turned her head to look at Alice, moving to get up from her cot but stopped by Alice waving a hand. “I didn’t meant to interrupt your thinking. I just wanted to talk.”

“Oh… okay.”

“Well… happy birthday, Clover.”

“Yeah… thanks.”

“We’ll be able to get out of here soon. And everyone will be able to see their families again… we’ll be out of here soon.”

“Mmmh… hey, Alice?”

“Yes?”

“About… hm. Do you ever wish you’d gone to one of the other shelters?”

“Well, I mean, I wish I could check in on everyone. But that’s why we set things up like this, so we could stay in contact-“

“No, I mean… are you… you picked to stay with me and Nona. Why?”

“This is… a bit late to ask this question, don’t you think?”

“Please, just answer it. I want to know.”

“I picked it because… I didn’t want to just leave you all alone, Clover.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t have been alone-“

“That’s not it, exactly… I wanted to stay at your side, Clover.”

“Alice… I’m… I’m glad.” She smiled, looking off to the side. “Say… do you still just think of me as your subordinate?”

“Don’t you keep saying that those things are pointless now?”

“Aha… yeah, I do.” Clover laughed a little, trying to ignore the pink tinge on her cheeks. “So then… what do you think of me?”

“You’re very important to me, Clover.” Alice’s own face had a bit of a blush on it, although nowhere near as obvious as Clover’s face. “Of course I would want to look out for you.”

“Alice… please, just… can you just say it? I-I, uh, I don’t think I can say it first.”

There was a bit of a sly grin on Alice’s face now, leaning down and planting a kiss on Clover’s head.

“I love you, Clover. Happy birthday.”

“A-Alice… I-I, um… I love you too.” She knew the blush had to be painted brightly across her face by now, but that was fine. This was… it was something she’d wanted to say for a long time, but had just never had the words or the time. But now… now she did. “I love you a lot, Alice. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I… I don’t want you to be my boss or anything, I just… w-would you be my girlfriend?”

“Clover, I’d like that a lot.” Sitting down beside Clover on the bed, Alice put an arm around her and pulled her into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

–

The months until it was deemed really safe to return back to the surface seemed to pass by in a flash, everything just a little bit brighter now. It wasn’t like anything had even changed- but being able to say “This is Alice, she’s my girlfriend!” just made Clover feel giddy in a way she hadn’t felt before. Not that it was a bad thing- no, she rather liked that feeling.

Stepping out into the upper parts of the shelter, behind closed doors that had managed to avoid being destroyed by scavengers, laid the van that they’d come here with once, and two Jeeps. It certainly wasn’t enough for the sixty-something people they had in the shelter with them- but despite it being safe outside, most of them wanted to stay. In the end, there was a group of four who took the van; Alice Clover and Nona took one jeep, and they agreed to leave the other in case the others needed it. About twenty people had said they were simply going to walk for a while and see where it took them… she doubted they’d ever meet again, but that was alright. They’d survived, and they’d continue to survive- the people here were survivors. All of them were.

Clover and Nona had each been in contact with Light and Ennea, telling them that they’d go to them. The trip would take a couple days, a lot of driving to reach them both, but they’d make it.

They went by Ennea’s way first, the reunion between sisters and mother and daughter enough to get Clover to cry. Then, all piling back inside they drove off towards Light’s shelter- Clover couldn’t quell her nerves, but she knew he’d be fine, they’d been talking all day.

That wasn’t going to stop her from sobbing the moment she saw him again, launching herself into his arms.

He looked older, much like she did, but he still looked familiar. His eyes crinkled up in the same way when he smiled, his hair was maybe a hint greyer and his skin (somehow) a touch paler, but he was otherwise the same.

Clover herself looked older- she’d maybe grown a bit taller (or at least she insisted she had), and her hair had long since grown back to it’s natural auburn. She’d started cutting it shorter, too- it was more manageable to have in a little ponytail, although plenty of loose curls still managed to fall out and stay in her face.

They’d changed, yes, but now they were together again- them and the Kashiwabaras and Seven and Alice were together, and they’d find someplace where they could settle in and make things work, just like Alice and Clover had seen Quark and Junpei making things work.

–

It had taken them only about a day by car to find a place where some people were living, no more than ten people taking up residence in old abandoned houses. After assuring them that they were in fact not here to rob and/or kill them they all settled into places of their own, trying to find which houses weren’t going to collapse any time soon.

The next years were rough, certainly, but they weren’t without happiness.

They’d all found niches within the community fairly quickly, attempting to find things to do that suited them well. There was certainly a lot of change, from what life had been, it wasn’t like old jobs like ‘cop’ or ‘programmer’ really existed anymore, but they’d found ways around things. Seven just naturally made people feel safe, Hazuki had started learning more about the hardware side of things in an attempt to help keep old radios and dvd players and whatever else running smooth, and the rest of them found their places as well.

For Clover thought, that didn’t come as easily. It wasn’t like she was really good at growing things, so she didn’t try her hand at helping out there, and she didn’t really consider herself intimidating enough to keep their group safe like Alice or Seven. She spent a good deal of time just drifting around, helping whoever needed it whenever needed- and she was always accumulating stories. It quickly became known that she was the person who knew everything around ‘town’, recounting the stories of friendly travellers and able to give whatever people needed to know about where someone was, or what they were doing.

The answer seemed almost obvious when Alice one day handed her a thick-looking book and a handful of pens, as if it was something Clover should’ve known all along. She wasn’t the best writer or anything- but even if she didn’t have a computer (or even a typewriter) here, that didn’t mean everything they’d go through had to be lost forever. Telling the stories over and over from person to person, and writing them down for the future, that was something she could do and enjoy.

Time continued to pass by, same as always, but life kept moving onwards. It certainly wasn’t easy, they were always on guard for the potential of drought or famine or attack; but they’d made do for themselves.

As life moved forwards for her, Clover found herself slowly growing less worried about what would happen next. Maybe it was just age, maybe it was from living in the apocalypse, but by the time she’d gotten old she was simply accustomed to life.

“Oh, Clover. You’ll never guess who I spoke with today in town.”

“Light?” She turned to look at her brother, who had something of a pleased grin on his face. “Who was it? One of the others?”

“No, no- it was Junpei. You remember him, right?”

“Of course I- wait, what?” No, that wasn’t possible… was it? But no… it was 2064… “Well, what did you say?”

“He seemed to be in a bit of a rush, something about preparing for a trip soon… and he has a son! Never would’ve expected that of him.”

“A-Aha, yeah…”

“Clover? Is everything alright?”

“Fine! Just fine!”

–

“Say… Junpei?” Clover looked down at her knees, seated back on the couch in Junpei and Quark’s place. Alice was at the other end of the couch, looking off to the side as well. “Do you… do you know what happened to my brother?”

She didn’t know why the transporters hadn’t worked for her, she hated the fact that she was stuck here like this- but maybe, just maybe, she could at least get an answer.

“Light? Oh, I think he’s… a few hours away? Yeah, it’s only about three hours south by truck- I saw him at the beginning of the year.”

“……” Clover was dumbstruck. Completely and utterly dumbfounded- what? No, that was impossible. Her brother couldn’t be alive, she couldn’t contact him- unless… no way. That was stupid- but it had to be true. The reason she couldn’t contact her brother was because she was blocking herself, right? Did that mean a version of her had found him, and was living somewhere else with her brother right now? “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Uh… no? I guess I didn’t think about it, but we could go visit him if you wanted..”

“That, um, might not be the best idea there Junpei.”

“Alright…”

–

“Clover, could you get the door?”

“Sure thing, Alice!” Even in her old age, Clover was still quite energetic- but that didn’t stop her jaw from dropping when she recognized who was at the door. “Junpei?”

“Yeah, that’s me… wait. Clover?” He seemed equally dumbfounded, staring at her with his mouth open. “How’s that- that’s impossible, isn’t it? I thought it didn’t work- you’re old-“

“You moron!” Cutting him off, Clover folded her arms with a huff. “You saw Light just last month, and you never thought to tell me about that? I spent the last 45 years thinking he was gonna die because of that little oversight!”

“I-It didn’t cross my mind! I was a little busy, Clover!”

“That-s you- augh!” With a huff, Clover eventually just shrugged and waved him inside. “Sit down, you!”

“Clover, what’s with the noise- Tenmyouji?”

“Alice, it’s good to see you.”

“Yes, it’s been a while- or at least, it has for us.”

“Yeah, I’d imagine..”

There was a hell of a lot to talk about, and they all took a seat around the place- but hey, at least they had the time now. Going to pull out one of the many journals Clover’d kept over the years they got to talking back and forth for a good few hours before Junpei finally had to leave again, with a promise that he’d bring Quark the next time so Light could meet him.

Clover’s mind was still busy when she went to bed that night, settling in beside Alice and staring up at the ceiling for some time, just listening to the sounds of the house. Seeing Junpei again after all these years… it really had been quite a time, hadn’t it? Not easy, not what she’d expected… but she didn’t regret going in that transporter. Not when she could know that her brother was alive, and she was with the woman she loved so much… it wasn’t perfect, but they’d struggled through it to find something worthwhile.

And, she thought to herself with a smile, that was certainly good enough.

[kelandry5]

Sort of just a rant… and me trying to idk.. talk and not bottle and idk… just.. me trying I guess….I don’t really know

I have come to the conclusion, controlling my anxiety without a bunch of medication is not fucking possible. It’s been a little over a month now since I completely stopped taking it and I’m fucking dying. I mean, I was sort of off and on since the beginning of August and sort of scraping by that way, but then I ran out at the end of October and since then has just been an unbearable hell. I’m physically ill nearly all the time from the anxiety, my insomnia is even worse than before because I have panic attacks trying to fall asleep or don’t even bother trying because I know I can’t calm down enough to fall asleep even if I’m literally about to fall over from exhaustion. I can’t even make it 24 hours without at least a mild anxiety attack and the level of anxiety is making me sick. I have some days where it’s basically a constant anxiety attack for hours and hours on end and nothing fully makes it go away. It gets to the point I’m ready to off myself just to make it stop and I get so tired but sleep won’t come. 

I thought maybe it was getting better finally. Like, this past week, I actually had times where I made it more than 24 hours without an attack and I actually did get some decent sleep and was able to actually eat food. And it was weird because family shit has been exploding all week and I’ve been stressed and kind of down and irritable from that, but the anxiety wasn’t all that bad. (Could have gotten more sleep if shit didn’t keep happening but that’s besides the point). Like, it was just weird. Even with stuff going on and my mood not being the best, I managed to get a few days free of anxiety. But I think it was just my hormones being screwy and shit and now it’s back to normal cuz things haven’t been as good today. 

I mean.. even if I did get a few more days of calm, I’ve already realized I can’t do this. Saving money and all the other reasons I had for trying are not worth it. It’s not worth the relapses or the physical illness or losing my fucking mind day after day and barely being able to do anything at all because everything sets it off. Like, it’s just not possible. 

But now the problem is two of the meds have to be done by mail order and I ordered them and they were supposed to be here this week but now it’s saying they won’t be here till next week and even once I get them, it’s going to take a week or two of taking them before things are back to normal and that’s just… that’s a long fucking time and with the holidays… that’s a LONG FUCKING TIME. The one I can fill at the pharmacy well… it’s for anxiety but it’s not like an every day one to take and it will make me really drowsy so even once I do fill it, it will only be useful for when I get to the point I can’t handle anything at all anymore and being drowsy won’t be a problem. And first I have to stop putting it off, but like I said, things have been a bit of mess….and a bit is probably an understatement. 

And it’s not like I can even talk about most of it because doing so just sets me off but just a lot of shit going down with family and I’m still jobless (not that I could actually survive a job interview or job in this condition anyway) and everything is just one giant mess and the fact that it’s December and shit hasn’t improved and I’m pretty much out of time isn’t really helping matters but at the same time, matters aren’t helping anything change either and it’s a viscous circle and as much as I know I climbed out of hell once, I’m fucking scared. I’m scared I can’t do it again. Things are a lot different this time around, and maybe some of it’s for the better, but a lot isn’t and that has me terrified. 

Like, I know this shit isn’t linear and I know I made it out once, I should be able to do it again, and I know…. I know all that stuff. I know it. I know a lot of it because this hole is familiar. I’ve been here before and I found a way out and I survived and things changed and got better. I know I need to believe that can happen again… but things aren’t the same as they were the first time around. I can’t do it the way I did before. I can’t use the same tools or strategies this time… and I don’t know if I can find different ones. Maybe the first time was a fluke. I don’t know. Maybe things will look up once I’m back on meds again but maybe they won’t. It’s not like that alone will get me out of this hell hole. And it’s not like I wasn’t here long before I tried going off them. I mean some things are def worse now, but….

I want to think I’ll look back on this one day and, like so many other things, I’ll decide it was okay because it led me somewhere good. But I know that might not happen. Or rather, I’m confused. I am afraid and I’m confused. I don’t know if I can make it out. I don’t know if this will be okay one day. I don’t know if I can stop myself from drowning and I don’t know if I can let anyone in enough to lend me a hand or if they even will or can. I feel like everything before was so different and this… this isn’t going to work the same.. and maybe there really is no way out. And maybe fighting to get out is pointless. I mean… I got out once and fell back in.. and I know this isn’t a linear process… but I didn’t expect to fall so hard again and become so stuck. I didn’t expect this…and damn am I afraid. I hate to admit it… but I’m weak and I’m afraid and I’m confused and I still have so much to learn but there is so much doubt and so many demons.

I don’t even know if it’s worth it, to pick myself up again, assuming I can. And some days or some moments, I find myself able to be positive and hopeful but then others… I just can’t be any of that… even when I know I need to be. And this mask I’ve worked so hard on and worn for so long… it’s starting to crumble just like the rest of me.. It’s crumbling and if it vanishes.. I can’t even think of that…I don’t know..

This started out a rant about one thing and now it’s on to everything except mostly just metaphors and analogy’s that probably don’t make sense to anyone because my head is such a fucking mess and I can’t flat out say what’s going on right now and honestly, I wouldn’t want to worry anyone anyways. And even if that wasn’t a problem… metaphors and analogy’s that suck are about the only way I can talk about any of it without freaking out and that’s just all I’ve got. idk… I’m just going to shut up now because this is just.. idk. I really don’t know. I just wanted to try to get some things out I guess.. idk

To be honest… I’ve been trying to hide the anxiety and not bother anyone about it all this time and not let people know when I was down or well ……things and just trying to keep my mask on as much as possible in front of everyone and deal with everything myself but lately… the last few times I actually just stopped trying to handle everything myself and said something on here (and not just reblog and post pics and quotes and poems and shit to vent but actually let shit off my chest in my own words without a rhyme) and the one or two times I actually just said hey I’m not okay to someone..and just didnt hide shit as much. idk… it actually seemed to help. idk. I hate doing it. I hate saying anything…and I don’t really know what to do when people are actually nice to me about it or try to support me when I actually say anything but… the few times I have said something lately….. it did…. it did actually help. I guess…. bottling it up inside or trying to hide it from people isn’t really the best method and idk… I just sort of thought…. I guess I just wanted to try to calm down by trying to speak this time instead of just posting vague shit or idk… I don’t really know… 

I just know actually saying shit… the few times I managed in the last couple of weeks… those times worked a lot better than any other methods I’ve tried… and maybe it won’t always work and maybe its bothersome or I suck at it but… I don’t know… I want to try… so this is me trying I guess. This is me trying to be open and to talk and to just…yeah…. and this is really terrible. 

[captainwhogotthecanary]

Something in Your Eyes (2/16)

Each chapter is approximately real time; I’ll be updating once a week, and in each chapter, either a week has passed since the last, or a week will pass during the chapter, or some combination of the two. Think TV dramas that don’t just cover a few days.

Though I’ve done some research (I can’t NOT), this fic isn’t supposed to be serious and may have some issues with accuracy in areas that are outside of my expertise.

Okay! Now that housekeeping notes are done, let’s get back to the fun!

(On AO3 as usual)

Leonard is more excited than he wants to admit when the request comes in and he's officially hired to break into Sara’s bank.

He loves a challenge, and he knows this one isn't going to be easy. For one, the head of security ordered the “heist,” rather than the corporate boss. While Sara still won't be allowed to inform her team of what's going to happen, things typically go better for the companies whose security team leaders have faith that they're, well, secured.

They ended up talking for over an hour when she called to book the job, and they’ve exchanged texts every day since, and yet, he’s still looking forward to seeing her almost as much as he looks forward to the challenge of the job.

He doesn’t realize he’s actually treating the job differently than he would until Mick confronts him.

“What’s so special about this job, boss?” the man asks a few minutes into their working lunch break.

“What do you mean?” Leonard asks. “It’s one of the best scores in Central City. I would think that’s obvious.”

“Yeah,” Mick says, “but there’s something different about it. You’re actin’ like it’s your first job, like you gotta impress the boss. You’ve been in charge of Acquisitions for years,” he adds. “Ain’t nobody you need to impress.”

Leonard frowns. Mick’s right; he’s been in charge of the division, unofficially called Acquisitions, for years. As much as he loves his job, though, he’s felt like he’s been coasting lately. There’s nowhere else to go in his career, not without losing the ability to be hands-on, and he’s not willing to give that up. Things just haven’t been challenging recently. Each job is like the last.

He’s the best at what he does, and it’s hard to find a worthy match.

“Met the head of security for Timeless Bank at that shindig last week,” he says finally.

“That one you left early?” Mick shoves the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.

“That’s the one,” Leonard drawls. “She’s not offering our usual job. She’s not some boss who wants to catch her security team slacking off so that she can fire someone.” He slides the standard fact sheet on Sara over to Mick, rattling off the most relevant data from memory. “Her dad’s a cop, and she shadowed him at the station as often as she could. She got an advanced degree in tech security, and she’s an expert in three different martial arts. There’s never been a successful breach in any department she’s headed.”

“She hot as she looks in her photo?”

“Mick,” Leonard says, looking up at the ceiling. “It’s not about that. We’re… friends.” He looks back at his second-in-command, who looks amused.

“Don’t sound too sure of that.”

“I’m sure.” Leonard forces certainty into his tone and manages to stave off the fleeting regret at the accuracy of the statement. It’s not like anything he’s told Mick is untrue, after all.

“Fine then,” huffs Mick. “You’re sure. You’re not talking about this Sara Lance like she’s anything special. You’re only interested in the job because it might actually hold your attention.”

“Precisely.”

“Uh huh.” Mick snatches the rest of Leonard’s sandwich off his side of the desk. “So what’s the game plan? You still taking Haircut?”

Leonard chuckles. “Yes, I’m taking Raymond. The plan is this…”

***

Sara spots Leonard as soon as he enters the bank. She knows this might not be the attempted heist; according to the contract, he can come at any point during the week for reconnaissance, and he can attempt the break-in any of the seven days he has available.

This is day two.

Sara isn’t allowed to alert the team, but she has access to all the bank’s security feeds in her office, and it’s not uncommon for her to hole up in her office for hours on end. Watching this play out won’t alert her team to anything suspicious.

To pull this off, Leonard will have to get to one of the secured vaults, get something out of it, and get it back out of the bank. He’s not allowed to make a scene in front of customers–even a fake robbery is bad for business–but the security team is fair game for anything short of injury.

She hasn’t actually seen Leonard since the bar, but she already recognises the confident way he moves. Her reaction to it takes her off guard.

She tells herself it’s just the excitement. She’s enjoyed talking with him this week, and she really does think they’ll make good friends. She’s only feeling this much attraction to him, on a screen no less, because her energy is high as a result of the situation.

That is part of it, at least. She knows her team is good; she’s trained each and every member of it herself. A couple of them are newer, like Rory Regan, but even though she’d been underwhelmed when he’d shown up in rags for his first day of work, he’s good at what he does. They all are.

Sara watches him chat easily with one of the cashiers, who’s practically melting at his attentions, and she rolls her eyes. Though not directly under her command, Sara keeps the bank’s other employees briefed on protocol and potential consequences, and she isn’t worried he’ll get where he needs to be quite so easily, not with just a bit of well-placed charm..

She narrows her eyes at the screen when Ray joins him.

Ray’s been in a lot lately, visiting Kendra on her breaks, so the employees are all at least vaguely familiar with him, and Sara watches the cashier relax further when Ray comes and clasps Leonard on the shoulder.

Sneaky. She should’ve known it was a possibility, though; she already knew Ray was working with Leonard. Technically, it isn’t outside the rules of conduct. Ray doesn’t have security clearance and isn’t allowed in the safe without–

Shit.

Ray pulls one of their electronic keys from his pocket and hands it to Leonard, who thanks him with a nod. What are they pulling, here? Did Leonard “forget” his key?

He’ll still need system verification, complete with photo ID, but somehow, Sara’s not surprised when the cashier types on the computer and then nods, seemingly satisfied. Leonard’s team must have a hell of a hacker. It’s probably how they got the key, too. She’s been telling Rip, who runs the bank and controls the budget, that they need to add biometric security, but he hasn’t listened yet.

The cashier signals for an escort to the vault, and Sara nods to herself when she sees it’s Nyssa who responds. The woman’s good, and she’s naturally suspicious. It was a large part of why the relationship she attempted with Sara didn’t work out, but it serves her well, and right now it serves Sara well, too; Nyssa doesn’t trust Ray, and she won’t be swayed by Leonard’s smooth voice or brilliant blue eyes.

Focus, Sara.

At least if Leonard actually succeeds, there’s not an official penalty; he charges a flat rate, no matter the outcome, and while she hadn’t accepted a discount, she had raised the stakes the night before.

winner buys the loser a beer

You’re on.

She knows she’s playing with fire, but she can’t bring herself to care. Besides, friends can share drinks.

Sara watches as Ray falls back, waiting in the lobby when Nyssa glares at him. He fidgets, looking nervously at the door she and Leonard disappear behind, at the main doors, and at the visible cameras within sight.

“Come on,” Sara whispers. This is the first time they’ve slipped up. It’s possible the employee managing the cameras will dismiss the behavior because it’s Ray, but his actions should be raising so many red flags right now.

She keeps half an eye on Ray while tracking Leonard’s trek to the high security vault. Nyssa’s walking more slowly than usual, but Sara can’t tell whether she senses something or is just in a mood. A full minute passes, and Leonard’s at the vault, when the message comes over the headset.

“Hey, Nyss,” Rory says, “I know that guy came with Ray, but Ray’s acting pretty screwy. Standby while I double check his clearance.”

Good.

Leonard seems relaxed as he waits for Nyssa to open the door. When Rory tells Nyssa, “He checked out, but something still seems off. Keep an eye on him,” Nyssa opens the door, and Leonard’s posture doesn’t change at all.

Even knowing this is all a test, even having ordered it herself, Sara itches to stop what she knows is coming. In the vault, Leonard walks casually to one of the secured drawers. He pauses, showing his first sign of hesitation, and he drops the key.

Sara frowns. That was either intentional or very sloppy, and she’s fairly certain Leonard isn’t sloppy.

He bends down to pick the key back up, then clicks it into place and opens the drawer, reaching in and pulling out a large jewel. He’s accomplished more of his task than she’d have guessed, but he still has to get the stone out of the bank.

She doesn’t realize how much she’s pulled to him until she notices a minor commotion in the lobby, which she was supposed to be watching along with the vault. Kendra’s there, and it looks like she’s berating Ray, whose eyes are still darting toward the vault.

Rory comes over the radio again. “Stop him, Nyssa. I ran his info through the backup, and it’s faked.”

Nyssa moves too quickly for Sara to see; the woman’s clearly kept up with her training, which didn’t all come from Sara. Leonard is cuffed in seconds.

Meanwhile, in the lobby, Kendra answers her phone, hangs it up and puts it away calmly, then twists Ray’s arm easily up behind his back and leads him toward the holding cell.

Sara grins, waiting until she knows both men will be in the cell before she joins her team.

“Miss Lance,” Rory says when he sees her. “I was just about to notify you. I was surprised you weren’t here sooner.”

“You did a good job, all of you,” she says, making eye contact with each team member individually. “These two can wait in the holding cell while I brief you on what just happened.” She grins through the bars at the men as she and the team head down the hall. Ray looks a little like a kicked puppy, and Leonard looks completely at ease, leaning against the wall like he’s got nothing better to do.

She fills the team in quickly, congratulating them on a job well done and promising not to set any more of these up any time soon, despite knowing they’d handle any others just as well. They’d halted the best in the business, after all, so why would she need to challenge them again?

Kendra seems tickled by the whole thing, and she joins Sara on her way back to the holding cell.

“The guy with Ray, that’s the man you’ve been hung up on this week, right? The one you left the party with?”

“Yeah,” Sara answers absently, mind already on when she’ll be able to take Leonard out for that drink, reveling in the celebratory high. “Wait,” she says, realizing what she’s just agreed to, “no, I’m not hung up on him.”

“Sure you aren’t,” Kendra says good-naturedly, stopping her ribbing when they’re in earshot of the little cell. “Ray,” she says when they’re in front of the bars, her voice dripping with the same tone she uses when she pretends to scold Sara.

“I thought you told me you were off today,” Ray protests, almost a whine.

“I just came in to have lunch with Sara. And you told me you were a science geek.” Kendra crosses her arms, and Sara struggles not to laugh.

Ray, though, doesn’t know Kendra as well as she does yet. “Well, you see, I am, technically. Clearly.” He gestures to the cell. “Was it all my fault it went south?”

“Not entirely,” Sara says, feeling Leonard’s eyes on her. “Your faked info was good, but we have redundant systems we can check if something’s wrong. One of them is kept offline and updated manually, so whoever hacked our main system couldn’t have accessed it.”

“So it wasn’t all my fault,” Ray says, turning to Leonard.

“They wouldn’t have thought anything was wrong if you hadn’t been been acting suspicious.” Leonard’s voice is matter-of-fact rather than derisive, and Sara decides he’s not a horrible teacher.

“Oh,” is the only response Ray seems able to manage.

Kendra takes pity on him and opens the door. “Come on, Ray. Let’s go.”

The two of them leave, and Leonard and Sara are alone.

***

Sara joins him in the holding room as soon as the others are gone. She stops closer to him than he expects, and he has to remind himself that he should behave, that she only wants to be friends.

“What am I gonna do with you now that I’ve got you all to myself?” she asks, smirking.

Then again, if that’s how she wants to play it…

“I can think of a few things I wouldn’t mind,” he drawls, and he’s gratified to see her eyes darken.

“Like getting a drink?” she says, and her voice is just a hair lower than usual. “You do owe me a beer.”

“So it seems.” He waits a beat. “Then again, you did lock me in here with Raymond. That has to be worth something.”

“You were only in here for a few minutes,” Sara responds, and he smirks before he straightens.

Standing straight brings him so close to Sara that he has to look down at her. She’s looking back up at him, and despite his internal reminder, his eyes drop to her lips. They look soft, and they’re open ever so slightly, still pulling up to one side, and Leonard can’t help but wonder what she’d taste like, what she’d do if he just went for it.

“I can’t,” he says, dragging his eyes back to hers. “I can’t get a drink today, that is.”

“Tomorrow?” she asks, and it’s not his imagination that she’s leaning toward him.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees. He argues with himself before reaching out a hand without breaking eye contact. “It was a pleasure working with you.”

She takes his hand, and while there aren’t literal sparks, there’s definitely something, a pull that’s even stronger with contact, and she swallows before she speaks.

“Same.”

He’s not quite smiling when he leaves the bank, thinking about their interactions and about something else he’d kept from her while in the holding room. He walks for just a few seconds before he lets his trophy slip out of the little pocket in his sleeve and into his palm. It’s a penny, taken from the floor of the vault when he “dropped” the key.

Technically, it counts as something taken from the vault he wasn’t authorized to be in, and he got it all the way out of the bank. He tosses the coin in the air and catches it before pocketing it.

He looks forward to seeing Sara’s face when he shows her tomorrow.

[somedaysiamspike]

Not the Best of Dreams ...

It might take a while to write this one. My mind’s a bit of a muddle this morning. That was one awful dream.

It seems I visiting a two-story traditional white Victorian-style Southern house. It seems I grew up in that house, and it was located across the road from the house where I really grew up in Bertie County, North Carolina. I think I was younger in this dream, maybe in my 20s. 

In the dream, for whatever reason, fears had overcome my sense of daring. Places I used to climb without trepidation suddenly gave me fearful pause as I imagined myself falling, and wondering how it would feel, and what I would think as I fell, and how high could I fall and still manage to survive the impact. A lot of screwy things going through my head. 

There was sort of an arc-shaped ledge near the roof of the house that connected one window to another. I wish I could draw a diagram for you. Anyway, in the past I would walk that ledge with no problem. Now I was walking that ledge and worrying that I would fall. I realized I was getting paralyzed. Here I was on the ledge, unable to will myself to get back to the window from whence I came.

Then there were a lot of people at the house. It was some sort of party or gathering. Lots of people came to the upper story, and some followed me out onto the ledge. We formed a semicircle from one window to the other, with me at the second window, my older brother just outside the window, then a couple of other guys, and then maybe one or two more people completing a “chain” of people holding on to each other between the windows. It was precarious, but everyone was laughing and smiling and having a good time.

Except me. I was getting scared. I was certain I wouldn’t be able to get back to the first window without freaking out and falling. I couldn’t tell anyone this. After all, I had always been the daring one! Finally, for whatever reason, my swirling mind decided a solution would be to jerk on my brother’s arm, just to make sure my hold on him was secure. Or maybe it was a subtle act of a cry for attention.

Whatever it was, it had fatal consequences. My sudden tug threw everyone off balance, and the two boys (maybe late teens? early 20s?) next to my brother fell. There were gasps of horror. We all peeked down. The two boys were splayed on the ground. Someone yelled up that one was dead, and other was seriously injured. Brain injury, I thought. 

The dream then skipped a day or two. The house was mostly empty, the party long over. A pall hung over the place because of the tragedy. I was in a sort of basement with white walls and little or no furniture -- I seem to remember an empty 2-liter soda bottle with a green label lying about -- and I was grumpy, feeling the guilt of what I had caused to happen. I took it out on my brother when he came down to the room to see me about something. I yelled at him angrily, like I’ve never yelled at him in real life. Really hurtful things. I guess I was mad at him -- and everyone -- for not realizing that it was my cowardice that caused someone to die. I was basically a shell of a man, having lost my bravado, my courage, and was now having to live the rest of my life with a burden of guilt. 

It was maybe the worst I’ve ever felt in a dream. And, unlike other recent dreams, I had no clue that it was a dream while I was dreaming, no sense of “Oh, this all makes no sense, so it must be a dream and I’ll wake up soon.” No, it felt real. And it took a while to adjust to the real world when I finally awoke in the middle of the night.

When I went back to sleep, I had two more dreams. The first involved me again visiting the house where I grew up, but, once again, the house wasn’t exactly like the one in real life. In the dream, I had a corner room that (again) was barely furnished. It was near the end of what had been a two-day visit. It was a routine visit, it seems, and I was more or less my usual chipper self. There was a kitten whose company I had enjoyed during my short stay, and I remember thinking I needed to come back and spend a full week playing with the kitten, visiting with my brother, and seeing old friends. 

Then suddenly the house was in Switzerland, and I was leaving the house to continue some sort of travel adventure. Some other people at the house were leaving at the same time, so we talked about going to the train station together. But then I checked the map and realized we would be taking the train in opposite directions, and that we would arrive just in time for their train, but that I would have a long wait for mine. I remember thinking that other people would be mad over this, but I shrugged my shoulders and thought: “No big deal. I’m a patient person. I’ll read a book or something while I wait. I’ve got no rush to go where I’m going.”

That was the second dream. Then there was a third, complex dream that I’m having trouble piecing together. I was in some sort of performance venue (a converted cafeteria, perhaps?). A two-act musical was being performed, but it was more of an ad hoc greatest-hits compilation of great movies and plays. I think my friend Malcolm’s son was there, and I was excited that I was introducing him to more theater (which actually happens in real life). 

Also woven into this dream was a physical that I had scheduled with a doctor. Not the usual doctor that was there in that cafeteria/performance space, but another doctor. Not sure why I chose the alternative doctor, but I did. I hope this isn’t too gross to put on the blog, but the doctor wanted me to give a stool sample. However, I had foolishly gone to the bathroom right before meeting with the doctor, so I wasn’t able to produce anything. The doctor said not to worry, that there’s always something in there ready to come out and to sit there and let gravity take its course. So there I sat, on some sort of tiny potty as people mingled about in the room. It didn’t feel like an embarrassing scene or anything; I just felt silly for going to the bathroom right before a doctor visit for a physical!

Then there was a passage of time (I’ve no idea if I ever produced a sample), and the play/musical began. I think there was something from Les Miserables in Act 1, and I think Malcolm’s son was talking to his parents about it. In the second act, there was some sort of sleeping beauty scene that required a princess. I volunteered to be the princess. There was some concern that my hair (which was suddenly brunette and bushy instead of blonde and thin) wasn’t made up sufficiently to make me look like a princess. I overheard a couple of people in the audience whisper something like, “Isn’t that the guy who wasn’t able to do a stool sample earlier?” but it didn’t seem to bother me. 

I wish I knew who was the prince. It was someone important in my life, but I can’t recall the face at this point. Anyway, we played out the scene, but we had to make up a bunch of lines because we hadn’t rehearsed. The prince kept messing things up (at least in my mind) by pulling out modern gadgets, like a smartphone. After he pulled out a very expensive pen that supposedly cost $90, I said (in my best princess falsetto), “Whoever would spend 90 dollars for a pen -- whatever a dollar is!” That line drew a big laugh from everyone. 

And that’s it. I don’t have much to offer as to what led to those dreams. Well, actually, I do have some thoughts about the first one, but I’m not sure I want to try to explain that here and now. 

I will say that my day yesterday was an unusual one. It was warm, so I wore shorts and shortsleeves all day (yep, in February). When I was at the store, I belatedly took on the task of rearranging the filing cabinets for the New Year (yep, only five weeks late). That was a very difficult task, for reasons I won’t explain here, but it did leave me in a peculiar mood. Then I met someone totally at random, explained to them what I had been doing, then we mutually agreed that I should celebrate having completed the undesirable task by having Indian food and ice cream. So we did.

And, finally, I do have a routine physical coming up in real life. And it will probably be the last time I visit this particular doctor, because she’s retiring. 

But how you can piece of all of that into those three dreams? Good luck.

[hotteaandoversharing-blog]

FUCK a Ravenclaw

Let me explain. Lawyer Boy (I am so tired of calling him that. It’s too dignified. He shall heretofore be referred to exclusively as “fucktard 8000″) done gone and FUCKIN TRIED IT. (He also happens to be a Ravenclaw, hence the title.) 

Son of a bitch ghosted me, again. Haven’t heard from him since December 30th, and we’re now about 17 minutes as I type this into January 4th. His texts got even creepier than what I’m about to read, but how the HELL do we go from “bending me over and showing me how a real southern man takes care of business” (V O M I T) to reaching the day that our date was supposed to be, and being nowhere to be found? I’ve heard nothing, and I even sent him a “good morning/happy new year” text on the 1st, to no avail. He’s a creepy asshat and a damn Trump supporter who’s punched a DOG in the FACE and BRAGGED about this fact, so honestly I’m dodging a huge bullet, and I recognize that. It’s just... I just... 

This whole situation is just really screwy, and I get that. But I HATE not knowing what’s going on, I HATE not knowing if people are mad at me, and I H A T E. Being. Ignored. The original title of this blog was “The life and times of your favorite attention whore” for a reason, people. 

I wish fucktard 8000 didn’t have this kind of power over me. I realize that me getting as angry as I am means he still has that power. But, I guess I’m entitled to negative emotions. Truthfully, it sucks to feel rejected and left out in the cold. It sucks to have had even vague plans for today, only for him to completely disappear. The best terminology I can put to the situation is that I got Stood Up, and it’s a shitty feeling. 

Even worse than the fact that I’m mad is the fact that I’m mad at myself for being mad. That, for me, is one of the things I feel like I most need to work on - for whatever reason, I never feel like I’m allowed to experience, let alone express, negative emotions. 

Unlike some of my other weird-ass brain shittinesses, I actually know where this one came from. Growing up, my parents would always get upset, sometimes REALLY upset, when I was something other than sugary and chipper. Sometimes, they would try to help, but if/when their “help” didn’t fix me right away they just got even more frustrated. My mom especially was bad about doing this, but though my dad didn’t always get so angry with me, he tended more to just ignore me. I don’t really resent them for this - I kind of totally get the reaction. Any parent hates to see their kid upset, and it’s understandable that they would get frustrated when there was nothing they could do to remedy the situation. The truth of the matter is, I was just as anxious and far more sensitive as a kid than I am now. I was upset kind of a lot, and more often than not it was without any real or tangible cause. My anxiety is, by nature, irrational - so their efforts to rationalize away my fear and sadness were usually fruitless. And that’s so terribly frustrating! If I had to guess, they were (and still are, this still happens now) frustrated with themselves for not being able to change my mood, and that frustration got channeled towards me seeing as I was its main subject anyway. What’s more, when I was unhappy in public, I’m sure they saw it as me acting out or causing a scene. I’m sure that on at least a few occasions, my unhappiness was, indeed, evident to strangers around us. I do maintain, however, that past my toddler years, I’ve never been a tantrum thrower. Suppression, manners, and the whole “seen and not heard” thing were all skills I perfected early on.

Anyway, I can honestly say that that entire prism of experience is what’s led to this fear I have of being unhappy at all. I feel extra anxiety just from the fear of anxiety itself. I let people, fucktard included, treat me like shit, because I suppress away any anger and apprehension and give myself a thousand reasons why it’s completely unreasonable to feel it in the first place. I end up having overwhelming bursts of unbearable sadness and hopelessness that lead ultimately to self-harm, not only because I feel compelled to bottle everything up, but when a negative emotion finds its way into my consciousness, I’m woefully unequipped to deal with it in a healthy way. I’m unequipped to even feel it properly without beating myself up for feeling it in the first place. 

It sucks. A lot. I’m sure I can’t be the only one with these kinds of experiences, so dear hypothetical readers, whenever you read this, if you want to vent to me about it, feel free to reach out. Even if it’s months from now. 

Back to my original point. FUCK THIS SONOFABITCH. I’m letting myself be mad, and sad, and confused, and all of it. I’m alone at the moment anyway - my family’s asleep. I kinda just wish I had a friend to talk to, though, but I feel like I’ve exhausted my resources with this boy by now. Everyone’s just gonna get annoyed with me for talking about him more. I accept that reality, it’s just that this feeling of loneliness in combination with everything else really isn’t helping. 

Someone, please - convince me not to text him. The struggle is real, y’all. 

Birdie out.