finally i'm free

Looking at him hurt. He looked like home. He looked like loss. There were too many conflicting emotions clenching around her heart, none of them outweighing the other long enough to figure out what they were attributed to. He said he wouldn’t miss it and she wondered if he could, if he felt he had a choice. She didn’t. It was where she wanted to be, but it wouldn’t matter, there was a part of her now that knew – she belonged to Whittemore. In ways that she had never belonged to anyone else. Be careful what you wish for. All Beatrice had ever wanted was to belong, but not in this way. “You don’t need to be redeemed,” she whispered. He had always had good intentions even if they blew up in his face. “You’re the best person I’ve ever met.” There was an odd tone to her voice that she couldn’t ever remember using with him, yet it seemed like she had, a fondness that seemed deeper than it was supposed to. Closing her eyes, she tried to piece broken memories together but it hurt nearly as bad as looking at him did. She was almost afraid to ask. “What do you remember?”

Her words were so light, so soft and sincere, and yet they felt like blows to his chest. Jonah didn’t feel like he deserved that title. Not today, not ever. “I remember you, well... us actually.” 

“It’s nothing solid, i just remember snippets but... we were arguing over what song to play on the radio, of course we couldn’t come to an agreement, so you just started singing louder than the song itself. I laughed so hard i nearly ran us off the road,” he said, a huff of laughter escaping at the thought. “- and one day i came home and there was a dog,” he said, his eyebrows raising in shock as though he was just seeing it for the first time. “The thing was though, we didn’t own a dog.” The day that Hendrix was welcomed into their home was one that Jonah would never forget.

There was one memory though, that was the most vivid in his mind. It was clearer than almost anything else.  “We ordered take out,” he said, his voice an octave lower, somewhat apprehensive as he spoke, “You were in the car and Al asked me if we’d like fortune cookies with our meal. I said yes, but only on the condition that i could choose what fortune he put in there. When we got home you were saying how rubbish fortune cookies were, and that you swore Al always purposely gave you one of the crappy ones,” he said, shaking his head with laughter. “We sat on the couch and I watched you nibble at the cookie before you even got to the note, almost as though you must have known what i’d done. It was excruciating.” Jonah looked towards her face to see if any of this meant anything to her, if she remembered any of it all. So much in his head was hazy, or maybe it was just him in denial, his brain pushing away parts he didn’t want to remember. “You finally got to the note and doubled over in a fit of laughter, clutching at your stomach, wheezing for air. My breath stopped for a minute. I don’t know, i thought maybe i’d made a mistake.” He swallowed, taking a deep breath before he continued. “You asked me to crack mine, and see what other nonsense it contained. So i did - and it read the exact same two words. Your laughing started to die down, i assume because you saw the look on my face. I was terrified, Bea. I shrugged and told you the truth. I had asked Al to give me two of the same, because knowing my luck, i’d end up giving you the wrong one and i’d be sitting there like a fool with a note that read ‘Marry me?’. Thankfully you didn’t think it was quite as crappy as your usual fortunes” Jonah looked down at the tiles and scuffed his feet along them, feeling like a kid again (technically he was a kid again). “-it wasn’t a mistake,” he added, looking up once again to meet her eyes. “It was the best choice i ever made.”

“He always knows what’s going on. Or at least does a pretty decent job of bullshitting his way through life pretending he does,” Chase answered. Except, for course, for that one time… he couldn’t really remember. But he was sure that was due to the confusing life reboot, not due to Charles literally being an all knowing ethereal being. “Do you mind making that two?”

Jonah couldn’t help but wish he had the power to bull shit his way through life. “Not at all,” he said, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard and placing the tea bags before boiling the kettle that was already half filled. As he waited impatiently he tapped his fingers against the cupboard. “In all the times i have lived, i wondered what if,” his voice was calm, and yet it felt strained. “What if i could go back to the reunion, and do it over, start again.” The kettle had started whistling but Jonah didn’t register. “Now i’m here and i am not so sure,” he said, finally noticing the kettle and pouring it into the mugs. “It’s easier thinking about these things hypothetically.”

At the confirmation that their little bookshop was still standing, Hannah’s face filled with happiness. Their second chance. Oh, how they needed it. The first time left destruction in every possible aspect of their lives. Having a chance to rewrite that was such a blessing, but the curse was in risking the possibility of reliving it all. If she had the opportunity to even rekindle her friendship with Jonah, though, she would risk everything else. “I’ve missed you, Jonah. So much.” She brought him back into a hug, squeezing him as though she hadn’t seen him in years.

“The feeling is mutual, i assure you,” he said, the excitement evident on his tone as he held her tight, letting go only when he was sure that this was all real. “All i want to do is go back there you know?” he said, his face lighting up, remembering the rows upon rows of books, the artifacts scattered around the rooms, the pictures, maps and postcards that painted the walls. He shook his head. “It shall have to wait,” he said, his smile faltering. “There’s unfinished business here. For the both of us”

Millie had spent the majority of the past day wandering the grounds, strolling in and out of the buildings that littered the campus. Each one seemed to promise a new bit of insight, a fraction of a memory she was forced to fit together the pieces of. As she wandered down the halls of one of the dorm buildings she heard a familiar voice drift out of a cracked door, and almost as if on reflex peeked her head inside. “Jonah?” she asked hesitantly, one hand resting on the wooden frame.

“Millie!,” he said eagerly, summoning for her to come inside with his hand, standing from his bed and grabbing the chair from his desk for her to sit. “Oh, thank the stars you’re here,” he said, knowing that in his heart the thing he had wished for the most was to take back the bad that he had done. To never have to see the girls disappointed and honestly, disgusted look at his actions. He had only ever dreamed of such an opportunity. “Please tell me you know what is going on.” Of all the people in the school, he figured that Millie or Faye must know something about the time change. After all, they were the ones who built a time machine.

Chase winced, his hand flying to the side of his head as if that could help alleviate some of the pain that came with trying to make sense of all that had happened– whatever had happened. “The light,” he paused, blinking a few times as he tried to focus on what little he could remember. “It was there– and then it was gone. And so were we, right? But we’re not. We’re here– right? Are we really here? Again?”

Jonah nodded along with the boys comments. “Yes, so it would seem.” Turning towards the boy he shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for what they were to do. “I suspect Charles will have the answers, though if he doesn’t then i’d say we must have really screwed the time portal thing and we are in quite a pickle.” Rubbing his temples, he made his way to the kitchen cupboards, grabbing a mug. “I need a cuppa tea.”

Mood swings weren’t out of the ordinary for Beatrice, far from it, but the amount that she felt when her she caught sight of Jonah may have been a new record in her book. Anger. Irritation. Disappointment. Abandonment. Sadness. Hopefulness. Relief. L–… Love? She couldn’t quite pinpoint the reasoning for any of it. The last time that she had seen him had been… when exactly? She was overcame with the instinct to run to him, to hug him, but her legs refused to move so she stood and she stared, waiting for him to notice her in the doorway. It was like someone had bolted her to the floor. “Jonah,” she eventually spoke, drawing the attention to herself as she tried to blink the blurriness from her vision. Why was she tearing up? What the fuck was wrong with her? “Didn’t know if you’d come.”

The fragile voice that broke him from his thoughts caused his breath to catch in his throat. His brain went into overdrive as soon as he laid eyes on her. It felt as though a lifetime had passed since he saw her, or had she been there the whole time? He remembered most of it, so he thought. Though at one stage in the timeline, his mind was totally blank. He attributed that to the blue light. His memories may have been a total blur, but the one thing he did know was how he felt, and in that moment it was all he cared about. “I wouldn’t miss it,” he said, scuffling forward so that his long legs dangled on the side of his mattress. “If there was ever a chance for redemption,” he paused, thinking about the catastrophic events from the first reunion, “I guess this would be it for me.” His words held a double meaning that even he didn’t fathom in that moment. 

Laughter bubbled up as Jonah twirled her around. He was a strange boy, she knew, but this seemed absolutely out of context, even for him. “Jonah, what’s the matter with you?” she asked, wide smile on her face. “Just five minutes ago, you were up in arms that I was here with you.” Then she looked into his eyes. Between that look and the hopeful undertones in his voice, the memories of that first reunion came flooding back. She remembered the confusion and pain–a different kind than she felt now–and the horrible events that unfolded, including the loss of both the bookshop and her friendship with Jonah. “Antique Corner– Is it still…?”

The recollection of how Hannah was bought into this mess came flooding back to him. A strange bubbling of frustration pooled in the pit of his stomach and no matter how he tried, he couldn’t shake it. Maybe this was the reason he was looking for. Maybe if this time he was able to convince her to leave, then none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t have been hurt. He knew now though, that despite his best efforts, Hannah would always be entangled in this world. After all, years had passed in reality since the fire. Her words shook him from his thoughts and he nodded knowingly. “Yes,” he sighed in relief. “This is our chance Hannah. Our second chance.”

If anything her legs felt stronger than they ever had before, or rather, than they had recently. All her responsibilities had been erased and rationally a hole was torn delicately in her heart, an empty ache for a life that she had loved but found it impossible to relate to now she was stripped bare of her natural instincts. “Don’t worry,” she soothed, stepping inside and leaning against the dry wall she had not seen in years, “I won’t set your room on fire this time.”

“I’d appreciate that,” he said, a small smile crossing his features. “Though the files don’t really mean much anymore, so if you do feel the need to ignite a spark somewhere then,” he gestured towards the desk that was filled with books and boxes alike, “Go for it.” It was surprising to see Camille at his door. Not for the fact that they weren’t close. No it wasn’t that at all. He just didn’t recall her being at the first reunion. Maybe her being there was a sign. Maybe things could change for the better this time. An image of a former life came to mind and he sat up abruptly. “SALT!” he yelled animatedly, his arms flying in the air. “Not the condiment of course, but the person, the... us. Salt and Pepa! You remember right? I didn’t dream that?”

“Drugs then?” he asked, trying to hide the frantic panic rising up in his voice. By now, Chase should have been used to it. But when was now? What was now? What was happening? “Or– someone poisoned the water? That still counts as drugs I think. But at least we’re not dead. Are we? Oh God. What if we’re dead? Hell looks a lot like Whittemore, all the rumors are confirmed.”

He hummed in thought. Drugs. “Usually drugs illicit different reactions on different subjects, and we seem to be in the same predicament so i think we could cross that one out too.” Jonah started pacing as he listened to Chase ramble about death. “Okay, unless you believe in life after death, i’d say we’re pretty right on that front.” Stopping in his tracks he put his hands together, trying to calm down while he thought. “Every time i try to put it together, i just remember a blinding blue light.” he sighed, shaking his head. “Thinking about it just makes the pain worse.”