A/N: Okay, so a couple of notes. One, this fic is based off the movie rather than the comics. There's no category for it yet, so yeah. Two, this'll be a little more serious than the film was. I'm not very good at comedy, so I hope you can forgive that.
Disclaimer: I have no ownership of the Scott Pilgrim franchise or the characters therein. Wouldn't that be cool though?
Ramona Flowers vs. the Timeline
(Ramona's POV)
I have a headache. An official, one hundred percent bona fide headache. No, I'm not drunk or anything. I think I had too many doses of rock music yesterday. I mean, the band was really good, but I'm not too hot on the side effects. I'll have to mention that to Scott when we decide where to go for our next date. Post-date sex: fine. Post-date headache: torture. You'd think after dating Todd and the Katanayagi twins, I'd be used to loud noises, but this still happens sometimes. Okay, not thinking about the vanquished evil exes. This train of thought is officially heading in another direction. My back hurts too. Definitely time to invest in a new mattress. Thankfully, I have the day off from work today. Good thing too, because I need to call Scott so he can get over here and give me a back rub. I grab the cordless and immediately dial his cell number. To my surprise, it's not Scott who answers the phone, but some girl.
"Who is this?" she demands.
"Ummm…my name's Ramona," I answer, trying to shift gears, "Is Scott there?"
"Who's Scott?" she asks me, "This is my phone." What the heck does that mean? Did I dial the wrong number? I pull the phone away from my ear and look at the display. No, this is definitely the right number.
"No it isn't," I tell her, "This is my boyfriend Scott's phone number."
"Look, I don't know a Scott and I'm definitely not your boyfriend," the girl says, "This is my phone. Don't call me again you freak!" She hangs up and I set the phone back on the hook. What the hell was that? Is Scott playing some kind of prank on me? If he is, I'm gonna make him pay for this, I don't care what he did for me. Knives. Maybe he's with Knives. Here's hoping her number is still the same, at least. I grab the phone again dial. Thankfully, the voice that answers is Knives, so at least the whole world hasn't gone crazy.
"Hey Knives, it's Ramona," I tell her, "Is Scott with you?"
"Scott?" she asks, "I don't know a Scott and I definitely don't know a Ramona. Who are you?" What the hell? This is officially nuts.
"I'm Ramona Flowers," I tell her in a frustrated voice, "You and I are friends. Scott Pilgrim is my boyfriend. He helped me out by beating the hell out of my seven evil exes. None of this is ringing a bell?"
"What mental hospital did you escape from?" Knives asks me, "Wait, did you say Scott Pilgrim?"
"Yeah," I say dully. I'm starting to get tired of the joke now.
"Well, he can't be your boyfriend," Knives says.
"And why not?" I ask her angrily.
"Whoa, take it easy," she says, "I wasn't trying to say he wouldn't date you or anything like that. It's just…Scott Pilgrim is dead."
"Dead?" I ask her, "But I just saw him last night. We went on a date together."
"That's not possible," Knives said, "He was murdered three years ago. It was all over the news. Not sure why I remembered it really, it just sorta stuck with me."
"Is this a joke Knives?" I ask her, "Because this isn't funny!"
"Look I don't know who you are or how you know my name, but I can tell you that I don't joke about people being dead," she said, "If you don't believe me, go to the local cemetery. I'm pretty sure he's got a grave there."
"Right," I say, "Thanks Knives."
"Whatever," she says, hanging up. This cannot be happening. There is no way Scott can be dead. I'm going to go the cemetery to see this so-called grave and find Scott waiting for me with some kind of surprise. When I do, I'm going to force him to make up for this with a proper date. I'm talking a high class restaurant with a stupid dress code and some cheesy after dinner entertainment. During this date, I will order the most expensive meal on the menu. In fact, I will order seconds, maybe thirds. Then, I will make him pay the bill. Yeah, that'll teach him to make me worry like this. Okay Ramona, take a deep breath. First step: Get directions to the cemetery. I should have thought to ask Knives which cemetery it was. Well, she said it was local. Can't be too many cemeteries in the area. I guess I'll try the nearest one. Too bad I have no idea where that is. When you've known the kind of people that I have, you don't make a habit of taking shortcuts through cemeteries. I suppose I can always ask directions though.
I'm too freaked out to worry about showering or anything now, so I grab the first set of clean clothes I can throw together and head out, grabbing my keys and locking the door behind me. Call it big city instinct, but I don't trust people enough to leave my door unlocked. I flag down the first person I see on the street and ask about the cemetery. He looks at me like he thinks I'm weird, but politely gives me directions anyway. As I walk that way, I start thinking about how strange this whole thing is. This is pretty elaborate for a practical joke and that isn't really Scott's style, even if he wanted to surprise me. Maybe Wallace put him up to it. The one thing I know for sure is that it can't be real. I saw him last night. We were together, on a date. He couldn't have been killed three years ago. It just wouldn't make any sense.
It doesn't take me long to find the cemetery. It's a nice place. When I die I want to be buried here. It's like the cemetery version of the Ritz. Well, not really, but it's still pretty nice. Now to find Scott and give him a piece of my mind. Where would he be hiding in a place like this? I decide to walk among the graves. I'm supposed to be finding his "grave", so maybe he left some kind of marker or indicator. I mean, it's not like he could arrange to have a fake grave placed. One catches my eye as I walk and my breath catches in my throat. Here lies Scott Pilgrim, citizen, friend, musician. A fairly plain epitaph for a grave, but it says plenty for me. His date of death is listed as three years ago. It's dawning on me now. This is real. Scott never could have faked this. He really is dead. But how is that possible? He was alive and walking around with me yesterday. That much I'm sure of. This is all wrong. I'm dimly aware now that tears are starting to fall from my eyes, landing all around my feet. I try to choke them back, knowing I don't have time to cry over this. Only one thing can explain this: something or someone has altered history and caused Scott to die. That's why that number no longer reaches him and why Knives doesn't know him.
"Did you know him?" a voice asks from behind me. Startled, I turn around. Kim is standing there, staring at the grave. She looks almost sad, which is a bit jarring for me. I'm used to that dull, uninterested look that she usually wears. How should I answer her? She probably doesn't remember me either. After all, according to this mixed up reality, Scott and I apparently never met and therefore, neither have Kim and I.
"No," I say quietly, "It's just…it's sad that someone had to die so young." I decide that I can't keep up this conversation now, so I turn and leave without another word. I've already decided that I have to fix this. Scott belongs here and I'm the only one who knows that. But how on Earth am I going to save him? I don't know right now, so I go back home. I have to think this over and maybe get some rest. Suddenly, the plans I had for today don't seem so important anymore. As soon as I get back in, I grab the key and open the door. It's funny how you can only be awake for an hour and then experience something that makes you want to go back to sleep. This is one of those. So I guess that's what I'll do. I peel my shoes and socks off, but I've already decided to forgo the mattress. No way am I getting to sleep again on that thing. I head over to the couch instead and lie down, willing my eyes to close. Somehow I get the feeling that sleep won't come easy.