She cant help it but everytime she looks at him, she sees Simon. Her Simon. The one who smiled at her with such a world weary sadness and age old knowledge that it made her want to cry. Or scream.
She misses him like a missing limb, her Simon. A physical ache deep in her gut. Curtis still looks at her like she's "changed" and it makes her want to punch him. Because she has changed. Simon changed her with his kind words and his promises and his standing in front of a bullet for her. What's so bad about changing anyway? Especially when it's changing for the better. Because she can now see past the freaky weirdo who stands in the corner, silent and watching, but afraid to meet anyone's eyes. She can see past that Simon and see her Simon emerging, slowly and surely in the way he now makes a joke, or tries to stand up for himself when Nathan is being Nathan.
He's not her Simon yet. But he's getting there.
Time Travel makes her brain hurt. Thinking about it. Thinking about the future her wondering if her Simon will ever come back. Or if she's even alive in the future. Maybe that's why Simon had such a sad look about him. She hates her self centered view, reminds her of her old self, but her Simon looked at her like she was a ghost, like she was the only thing that was keeping him from breaking down and just giving up, curling into a ball and screaming "I don't care anymore."
Her fingers still feel his skin under hers and she forgets herself sometimes and goes to touch Simon, the present Simon, wanting to feel hard muscle under her hands, see almost deathly pale skin next to her's, run her fingers over scars that present Simon doesnt have. Not yet anyway. She asked her Simon about them once, he had smiled that smile, covered her hand with his own and kissed away her questions. She'd forgotten them when he pulled her close and slipped in. She'd forgotten almost everything except his name when he was in her, saying it over and over till it sounded strange on her tongue, till Simon had kissed her quiet, trembling above her, with pain in his eyes.
When present Simon speaks in that shy stuttering way, she can't help but hear her Smon, his dark chuckle when she made that embarrassing gasp like whimper. His gentle, sad voice, so often accompanied with a gentle touch of his hand against her face, buried in her hair. The way he said her name. It's different from Simon now. Her Simon said it in a way that sounded like he knew she would listen. Simon now sounds hesitant, like he doesn't have the right to speak to her. She wants to hear her Simon. Simon now sometimes says things in a way that reminds her of her Simon. Its like a punch to the stomach when he does it, voice going dark, like he's had enough of Nathan, of the teasing and jokes, of Kelly sticking up for him like he's incapable of looking after himself. Alisha knows that soon he will be more than capable, give off an aura of controled violence that will make her heart pound in her chest.
Its tiring, knows what he will become and looking for it. It makes her eyes hurt like she's squinting in a dark alleyway, trying to see the danger she knows is there. Simon now seems to have noticed. Watching her with nervous eyes, so like her Simon's, less pain, more distrust. It makes her want to reach out before she forgets that she can't touch this Simon, doesn't really want to either. Not yet anyway. She wants her Simon back. Doesn't want to forget him. She knows she has to though, to give Simon now a chance, a chance to become the man she falls in love with.
But she wonders if her Simon will forever hang over her like a shadow. And the reason he comes back is to have all of her, if only for those brief few days.
She also wonders, in her darker moments, if her Simon told her she falls in love with him so she would. If the simple act of telling her that, makes her feel more than she should when she looks at the geeky boy with his buttons done up to his neck. The boy who kills to protect those who don't even like him. Thre boy that turns into the man who would die to protect her.
She can still see the blood on her hands, feel it sticky under nails. Can still smell the acrid scent of burning skin. It reaches into her nightmares and buries deep under her skin, so that when she wakes, there is still a hint in the air as the sweat cools on her forehead. No Simon there to curl back up to, to wrap his strong arms around her and whisper into her hair. No Simon staring at his ticking clocks, muscles in his back stark in the half lit room.
Simon now smiles at her easily. Well more easily than before. And she is getting nicer. Nathan notices, takes the piss. Kelly punches him hard and smiles back at her. She knows that Kelly can hear her thoughts, tries to keep them in check around her, but Kelly hears. Alisha knows she does. Kelly doesn't ask though, just accepts and Alisha thanks for that, because she couldn't explain even if she wanted to.
"It's you falling in love with him that makes him become me." She remembers those words, his fingers reaching up to her hair, her tears on his face. She remembers them when Simon shuffles into the locker room and does that shy smile nod thing he does. She smiles back, forces her lips to curl upwards, forces it on to her face. Simon's head cocks to the side but she turns her back, slams her locker shut. Its still too early, the pain of her Simon dying in her arms to raw to look at Simon now and smile properly.
She wonders, not for the first time, why her Simon could touch her. She thinks about touching Simon now, to see if the words he doesnt have any choice but to say spill from his lips, or if her power doesn't work on him anymore either. She never does though. Just watches as he tentatively asks Jessica out for a drink. She swallows down the bitter jealousy that makes her want to claw at Jessica's face. She has no hold over Simon now. He's not ready yet. Not her Simon yet.
She goes to his place. Wraps herself in the sheet that still smells like him, them them, watches the news reels of them in the future. She sees the way her Simon looks at her future self. She's a hint of Simon now still in him. She falls asleep with the laptop still humming quietly, her fingers clutching the photo of them in Vegas, the one she doesn't remember yet being taken. She dreams of him. Dreams of him making love to her in a hotel room in Vegas, bright lights streaming through the window, his hands touching her skin, his mouth breathing hotly in her ear.
She wakes, for once, in tears rather than screaming.
She can't decide which is worse.