A/N: Dear all new readers, first of all, this fanfiction can be fully read, enjoyed, and understood by itself.

if you would like to take a look at the previous chapters, which explain a hell of a lot more, they may be found here:

Part One: /s/4609031/1/The_Monroes_Summer_Days

Part Two: /s/4478609/1/The_Monroes_April_Showers

And now, I proudly present to you:

Part Three

Chapter One: Elizabeth

"Mei Monroe. So today is the day."

"Mr. Nakamura. I-" Mei's voice dropped. She looked up cautiously at the small man in the doorway before her with at least a hundred layers of wrinkled skin. Immediately, she looked back down, eyes shut. She felt like a school girl again, although she should've felt much worse.

He grinned behind his big glasses, seeming extremely pleased with himself. "I have reason to believe that you are looking for father. You think he is being held here? I assure you that the Company has nothing to do with his sudden disappearance."

Mei nodded. Her body seemed to freeze up the more she stood in the concrete halls of Company headquarters. "The Company is his only main enemy; I don't know who else would have taken him." She started to tremble, but she bit her lip. "Please Mr. Nakamura, my son's on trial. They'll execute h-him if they can't find the b-body- a-and... I... I..."

The tears started to come. Mei just bowed down lower. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Nakamura. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I kn-know I could never say that enough... but I- I realize it now.... How much... p-pain... suffering I m-must have..."

Mr. Nakamura's smile disappeared, and his own eyes lowered as his bony hands clenched. "No matter how much sadness and anger comes to me every time I think of Sayu, I cannot blame you for it. Mei," he said, and lifted her chin, although she furiously faced it back down to the floor. "You were merely a pawn in your father's game of revenge against me, and I cannot let such a game continue."

"I forgive you if you will let me show you something." Nakamura looked her sternly in the face.

Mei's face softened. She swallowed, nodding, and then looked up carefully at the old man.

He led her inside his sitting room. "Mei Monroe, do you remember one very fateful night when you were just a little girl? There was a festival that night. Wouldn't you like to see that night again?"


On every twenty-seventh day of July, Elizabeth only did one thing since she was a year old. Of course, she hadn't done it when she was a few months old, for that was the actual day of the whole international tragedy.

Here she was again, standing, head bowed, with her maroon summer dress that she had just bought a week ago, not that Joseph Allen Day was any kind of fashion opportunity or anything. Her shoes were new as well, shiny and white, standing in the grass while the rustling willow trees bent in the breeze.

The memorial was a twenty foot statue of the man enclosed in an ornate canopy with an arrangement of fountains at his back. No one knew just what image to capture of the legend, so it was brought about as an opportunity for artists to display their interpretations of him every few months. On this day, it was an exact replica of him with a wicked bronze smile on his face while a bronze knife cut into his bronze little finger.

A little more than four thousand people were standing at the memorial in a similar way, dressed in nice clothes, paying respects to the man whose bravery and leadership abilities had made the world recover from Year Zero.

Elizabeth and her family always came to the Joseph Allen Memorial Ceremony for a different reason. By the public, this reason was so that their reputation would not be tainted. Elizabeth's very own uncle, Charles Ferguson, was the one who had killed him after all, and by attending the ceremony, they would prove their loyalty to the region.

This reason was very similar to the real reason. By Elizabeth, the reason was because her mother was a coward.

Her family held many secrets, but two topped them all. The only reason Charlie was even charged with the murder was because a witness had seen him following the former Prime Minister on one of his scenic walks. Charlie had only pleaded guilty because of his lack of will to live while he covered for Dana, his sister-in-law, and Elizabeth's mother.

The other secret was that Joseph Allen hadn't been killed. He hadn't died at all, as far as anyone knew. Dana was there, she could've shot him right where she was, but before she could, he disappeared completely. She ran, figuring his guards had saved him. The strange thing was that they hadn't, and not wanting to have a mess of ransoms and embarrassment on their hands, they officially announced Joseph Allen dead, and so a new holiday was born.

She looked up at the statue, admiring the artist's handiwork. He had even got that timeless expression of Mr. Allen's eyes, the absolutely delighted and sort of mad eyes that was caught right from the video of The First Speech that she kept in her private collection of great moments in history.

At fifteen, Elizabeth knew many things of Mr. Allen, but had little concern for many of them. It was going on thirty-five years since Year Zero and frankly, few of her generation cared of what humans did before they had abilities. She could also say that only a handful of students in her year actually knew of the Schaefer Head Disaster, let alone cared about the related people and reasons for death related to it. It could be accurately said that Elizabeth didn't share her parent's understandings for dislike of Mr. Allen.

She had never known the man. How could she hate him?


"I've heard they've got pumpkin, now. Doesn't that sound better than coffee?"

Elizabeth shook her head, kicking a rock across the street. "Never. I'll never betray my dearest flavor. If coffee ice cream was a person, I'd marry them right then and there," she laughed with a smile.

Ian sighed. "Just suggesting," he shrugged. "Every year, the same walk back from the memorial to Hartzell's, and every year, the same bloody coffee." With a shrug, he leaned on the door, and bells shook as they entered the ice cream parlor.

Elizabeth meant to reprimand her brother for his language, but the thought was scattered from her mind as her eyes rested on one certain woman that took a seat by the window.

She was in perhaps her late twenties with brown hair that was cut moderately short in the front while it went down her back. In fact, apart from it the length, it was the same color of Elizabeth's. She couldn't see the woman's face, but Elizabeth spotted one thing that made her eyes pop.

She was wearing her jeans.

They weren't just any jeans. They were perfect jeans, like the ones that fit you like a dream. They were the ones that Elizabeth found a year ago just when she learned she wouldn't grow again and promised herself that she would fit into those jeans forever. She had done a lot of things to them as well, sewing patches of bright colors and plastic jewels down the sides. They were a one-of-a-kind pair, and here this lady was licking at her ice cream, wearing her jeans.

It made her mad.

"Heya, John. I'll take a Black Walnut, and I guess Beth still wants her Coffee," she heard her brother say.

Immediately, the woman turned her head. She saw Elizabeth staring- or glaring at her, and she just raised an eyebrow, but made herself look friendly and pleasant. She stood, and walked over to Elizabeth.

"Hi," said the woman, licking a bit of ice cream from her finger. She still tried to hold a smile, but Elizabeth's scowl made it difficult.

Elizabeth blinked and glared harder. "Those are my jeans, there," she replied.

"Yeah?" She looked down at herself, admiring them. "Yeah, I guess… I mean, no. No." She looked back up and shook her head. "No, they're not. They're mine, actually."

"Beth, aren't those your jeans?" Ian had arrived with the ice cream, and he started licking his Black Walnut as it melted. He held up the Coffee to Elizabeth, but she didn't take it. "Oh hi, I'm Beth's brother, Ian," the boy smiled, and lifted up Elizabeth's ice cream high in her face so that she'd have to take it. His hand was then free to give the lady's a shake. "It's nice to meet you, Miss… Er, Mrs.?"

The woman looked awestruck, but she took the hand. She grinned, genuinely, and said, "Miss… Well, yeah. Miss Ferguson. Hey Elizabeth," her eyes drifted back to the fuming teenager. "Is there somewhere we can talk? Without... this ice cream shop?" She seemed to laugh at the last word.

"No," hissed Elizabeth. "We can't just talk! What are you pulling, trying to be me?"

Miss Ferguson took a moment to lick at her ice cream again, and Elizabeth noticed that it was coffee as well. "I'm not trying to be you. I am you. Well… ah… sort of, I guess." With a non-impressed look from the girl she added, "I mean, I'm only a future version of you."

Elizabeth scowled again. She snatched Ian by the arm, and within the millisecond, they were in at the edge of the forest with their house in view at the top of the hill.

"No, wait! Stop!"

The woman was there as well, up near the middle of the forest, and she stomped off to get near them.

Elizabeth gasped and squeezed her eyes shut, teleporting to the next safe place she could think of: her grandmother's house. However, once she did, within a few seconds again, the woman was there again, like she could read her mind.

"Stop! You, just listen to me!" Miss Ferguson drew in a much more irritated tone.

"No!" Elizabeth let go of Ian (who went on eating his ice cream). "You can't be me! You can't have just broken the time barrier! It's impossible!"

Miss Ferguson smiled in a sort of familiar way. "No, you know very well that it's not impossible. It's just illegal." She also checked her watch. "Speaking of, I've got to get back to work, so I don't have enough time to keep chasing you."

"Okay, alright!" Elizabeth made out sarcastically, stepping up to give a plastic smile to the woman. "What sort of special message does my future self have for me? And while we're at it, what sort of future do you come from, I wonder?"

The woman just took a breath of a relief. "A future where I can't tell you what happens, because the slim chance that it might change anything is actually a big chance. Anyway, I need you to do something for me... or actually, for yourself. You do have a obsessive want to time travel, don't you?"

Elizabeth paused for a second, considering this. "I… have…" she nodded cautiously.

"Good," Miss Ferguson now fully smiled. "So, what I did was I/you saved Mr. Allen and his girlfriend by teleporting them to 1785 before Mum could kill him. So, in about eight months, right before the war when the international government gives permission for unlimited immigration, as people will be shuffling around for permanent land rights, I need you to pick them up, and bring them back to the present. Okay?"

"What?"

Miss Ferguson checked her watch again. "Okay, I'm only repeating what was said to me at your age because it's so complicated that I really can't explain it, but for now, you do know that Joseph Allen is the most influential and powerful man in Caelestis history? So, by extension, he is the most important figure in the entire modern world, correct?"

Elizabeth blinked, ignoring the time travel factor, but she could surprisingly follow along with herself. "So by saving the most important man's life, he owes you… I mean, us. So, he'll be forced to make time travel legal for us, because without time travel, he would be dead." She mirrored the smile, now. "And Mr. Allen's greatest fear is death. He'll do anything to escape it."

She nodded. "That's right. I left them/you will leave them in Paris, May 21st, 1785, and they're under as two Austrians by the names of Ferdinand and Claudia Schulde. And erm, make sure to remember to go back to yourself to tell my-your past self, just as I'm doing now. I can't really tell you anything more, other than that you'll know when."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "So... when I'm older, I'll have to save Mr. Allen from being shot, teleport them to Paris, 1785, then tell my past self to teleport them to her present?" She surprised herself and her future self of how well she understood it.

"Exactly! Just remember eight months from now to pick them up in the second place. And remember not to think about it too much, because that gives you a nasty headache, trust me.... and now look at the time! I have to go, sorry!" As abruptly as she was encountered, she rubbed her wristwatch and disappeared completely.

Elizabeth blinked wildly. "Wow, predestination paradox," she whispered to her brother, feeling sort of awkward. "I just have to time travel to 1785. And it's completely legal. I think."

She rubbed her head.


A/N: Yeah, long chapter, I know. This is the longest chapter, I swear! So, you liking so far? Confusing so far? Reviews are very, very much loved. Very, very, very muchly, even if they're just to say 'hi!' Compliment, criticize, ask a question. Please, review!