In Time by asesina
Summary: Winnie returns to Treegap seven years later to make an important decision.
Disclaimer: I don't own Tuck Everlasting.
Enjoy!
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"We're here, Miss Foster."
Winnie Foster's eyes flew open at the sound of the driver's voice.
She felt her breath catch in her throat as she looked out the window.
"Treegap?" she asked in a tiny voice.
"Yes ma'am!"
Winnie sighed and pulled off her gloves.
"Thank you, Joseph," she said softly. She gathered her suitcases and waited for the stagecoach to roll to a stop.
"We'll see you soon, Winnie," Joseph said with a grin. He nodded at her and Winnie smiled a brief goodbye in return.
"Treegap," she repeated.
A lot had changed in seven years. The main street was a little wider, and there was a new inn on the corner.
The old pub was still open, and the ever-vacant county jail was still as foreboding as ever.
Winnie squinted hard against the late September sun.
Everything about the day seemed cold and sharp, like the edge of a stainless knife.
The sky was that peculiar shade of blue that only appears in the autumn. It was almost too vibrant, and the scattered clouds stood in stark contrast to the endless reflecting pool of the sky.
Her eyes continued to scan the town, and they finally rested on two familiar faces on the far side of the road.
"Mama! Papa!" Winnie cried excitedly.
She ran to her parents, dropping her suitcases as she opened her arms wide and embraced them both.
Winnie held onto them for what seemed like an eternity. At long last, her mother finally broke the silence.
"How have you been, dear?"
"Wonderful. Busy, but wonderful. Oh, I have so much to tell you! We visited Boston and Cambridge, and then we went to Nantucket!"
Winnie's eyes were bright with joy as she regaled her parents with stories about theaters and farms and beaches.
However, there was an edge of tiredness in her voice, and her father noticed.
"We should get you home, Winifred. You've been on the road for quite some time," he said gently.
Winnie nodded, and she wearily bent to gather her bags.
"Nonsense, Winifred. We'll gather your things," her mother exclaimed.
Winnie smiled gratefully and followed her parents to the carriage on the other side of the road.
As she climbed up, Winnie turned to look back at the town.
The horses began to trot down the dirt road, and the buildings started to blur at the edges. The trees turned into orange and yellow smudges against the impossibly blue sky, and Winnie had to close her eyes.
They arrived at the Foster estate around an hour later. The house looked as trim and stately as usual, and the lawn was still impeccably groomed.
Winnie was the first one to leave the carriage. She jumped down and ran to the edge of the vast lawn.
"Winifred, you should get some rest," her mother called.
"I will, Mama. I just want to walk around for a bit," she said quickly.
Mrs. Foster raised an eyebrow at her daughter, but she turned and motioned for her husband to follow.
"Don't stay out too late, Winifred. You know how early the sun sets this time of year," Mr. Foster said firmly.
"I won't, Papa. Thank you for coming to get me," Winifred added.
She felt a twinge of guilt for abandoning her parents so soon, but she had to go to the woods. She had to find out if Jesse was telling the truth.
A few months earlier, Winifred had received an unmarked letter at her cousin's house in Boston.
The cursive was wide and sprawling, much like a lazy river or a wayward stream.
It simply read, "I'll see you in September."
Below the brief message, there were two curving, grandiose initials that made Winnie's heart tighten and insides churn: J.T.
"He found me," Winnie thought excitedly. She couldn't believe it. Had he really waited for seven years?
She traced the letters over and over and wondered if this was some kind of cruel joke, or a dream. Why would Jesse want to see her again?
Winnie suddenly thought of the vial of water, and her heart dropped. She remembered seeing those sacred, life-giving drops of water slide down the toad's warty skin, and she wanted to cry.
She was so sure of herself at ten. What kind of crazy, misguided girl would want to live forever and never, ever change or grow up?
And so Winnie had clutched the letter to her heart for an entire summer, and the weight of the wisp-thin parchment was almost too heavy to bear.
Winnie decided to return to Treegap and face the wondrous and terrible possibilities of that inevitable meeting with Jesse Tuck.
Would seven years make a difference? Was she grown up enough by now?
She held her breath and took the first step towards the wood. The gentle, tinkling melody of the music box was long gone, but Winnie was sure that she could still hear fragments of a song drifting between the trees. Perhaps it would echo on through eternity.
She continued to move deeper into the wood, and the trees suddenly seemed too close, the branches too sharp.
Winnie needed to get out. She shivered against the autumn wind and lifted her voice to the forest.
"Jesse! If you're here, please come out."
She paused for a moment.
"Jesse!"
His name bounced off the trees and fell to the ground like a dead leaf. Without him, it was just a flat, useless word, a plea uttered to the empty wood.
Winnie pulled the well-worn piece of parchment from her sleeve and felt tears sting her eyes.
Maybe this was a part of his plan. Maybe he was just testing her.
Then, in an instant, Winnie saw a flash of white between the golden leaves.
"Jesse?" she called uncertainly.
There was a moment of silence, and then she heard a warm, youthful voice say, "look behind you, Winnie Foster."
Winnie spun around to see the smiling, ageless face of Jesse Tuck, and she gasped in surprise.
"Jesse, you- you remembered?" she whispered.
"It looks like we both did," he said with a grin.
Winnie felt her face grow hot as she felt Jesse's gaze.
"What is it?" she asked curiously.
"Nothing. It's just- you're all grown up, Winnie!" he exclaimed with a laugh.
"Well, it has been seven years," she retorted with a smirk.
"Yeah, but you're almost a lady! You're probably gonna get married soon, ain't ya?" he asked.
"What? No, of course not! I'm not allowed to court anyone yet," Winnie said quickly.
"Why'd you come back for me?" Jesse asked carefully.
"I wanted to keep a promise. I kept the water for a while, but I-," Winnie faltered.
"I poured it out!" she cried.
"Winnie, it's fine! You were only a girl. Besides, there's plenty of water left," Jesse said.
"I know, but I can't decide! I'm not ready yet. I don't know if I'll ever be ready," she said softly.
Winnie turned away from him in shame. She didn't want him to see her tears.
Jesse lifted her chin with a gentle finger.
"Winnie," he implored.
"You don't have to do it. I know that you'll make the right decision someday. I just wanted to see you again," he added quietly.
They stood in silence for a while. Winnie crumpled the paper in her hand and sighed.
"What is the right decision, Jesse?" she asked in a quavering voice.
"The right decision is whatever you want. Follow your heart, Winnie," Jesse said.
"But- what if I never make up my mind?" she asked.
"Don't let it worry you, Winnie. If you don't make a decision now, then that might be your answer," he offered.
"What am I supposed to do?" Winnie asked quietly.
She was almost eighteen years old, but she felt like a child again.
The world suddenly seemed too vast, and the possibilities too endless.
Jesse stepped closer to Winnie and wrapped his arms around her.
"Some things aren't meant to last forever," he said softly, sweetly into her ear.
"Just remember that I will always be here if you want to talk about this. I will always find you," he whispered.
"Thank you, Jesse," Winnie murmured into his shoulder. She felt his curly hair brush her temple and she brushed a wayward strand from his face.
He was such a curious boy, she thought. He was so gentle and wise, but he was full of an endless youthful energy that she wouldn't have in ten or twenty years.
She wanted to hold him for a hundred years and kiss him for a thousand, just to see how eternity tasted.
She wanted to build a tiny, perfect world for all of them and shelter them from the pain and agony of aging and death.
She wanted it all, but Winnie knew that it was impossible.
She knew that she would have to leave this behind.
Yes, she still had the buoyant, breathless curiosity of a girl fresh out of finishing school. She had that adventurer's spirit that Jesse seemed to share, and she wanted to see the world with him.
However, there was a new side to Winnie, a firm, quiet intelligence and self-assuredness that was just starting to form. Some would call it maturity, and others adulthood.
Winnie knew that her days were numbered. She knew that the leaves would always turn orange in the fall and green in the spring. She knew that the sun would rise and set and that the planet would spin, and that the world would grow and change. And, despite all of this, Winnie was comforted by these little familiarities and patterns.
It meant that her life would last for a certain number of turns through the universe, but that didn't matter.
No, in that instant, Winnie decided that the only important thing was the fact that she would learn and grow and eventually pass wisdom along to her own children.
And they would also teach her, and the cycle would continue, old into young and young into old, and everything would have a time and a place.
Winnie stepped towards Jesse and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. He held her face in his hands and kissed her in return, and she felt the world pause under her feet.
She held her breath for a moment, and then she felt it lurch forward again, and she exhaled.
"Good-bye, Jesse," Winnie said quietly. She smiled at Jesse, and he could see a new light in her eyes.
He knew the answer to his unspoken question, and he nodded in return.
"Good-bye, Winnie Foster."
And with that, the curly-haired boy walked back into the forest, humming that old tune from the music box.
Winnie watched as Jesse disappeared into the golden blur of the wood.
She shifted her skirts and started back towards the house. The sun was hanging low over the trees and she quickened her pace, for supper would be on the table soon, and she wouldn't want her parents to worry.
End.