A/N: Welcome to Tennessee Turnabout, the followup to Subterranean Turnabout way back in JvK-G:AA. This is OC heavy to the point of actually only having one appearance of a canon character (for a short scene at the end of the fic, natch). However, it's very important for the Janaverse series... which, by the way, if you haven't read yet, head to our profile and do so. Basically none of this will make sense if you don't, and you WILL be spoiled.

Please enjoy.

May 14 (2054), 3:00 PM, Detention Center

"…but sometimes I wish things could be different," Tuck said.

"Yeah," Watson said, looking at her hands, balled into fists on her knees, instead of him. "That'd be nice."

She glanced up at him. Tuck Alechi, 22, a former geologist, sat across from her; she'd met him almost a year ago, during one of Jana (one of her co-workers at Wright Anything Agency)'s earliest cases. He'd been arrested and convicted for blackmail, extortion, suborning perjury, obstruction of justice, and second-degree murder, all as revenge for an older sister who had committed suicide ten years ago.

Watson Justice wasn't in love with him but still she kept visiting him every week. They talked a lot, although at this point Tuck didn't have much to talk about and Watson had too much she couldn't say.

"Yup," Tuck said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, his face pointed towards the ceiling, "it would be nice. But y'know - a done bun can't be undone. I can't undo my crimes, your parents can't undo the way they raised you, and Onyx… ain't ever coming back from the dead."

"What was she like?" Watson said. She'd asked this so many times, and every time he answered, with a smile.

"She was the greatest sister in the Smokies," Tuck said with relish, "she was only thirteen when our parents died in that fire, nine years older than me, and since that she raised me. It was a hard life but we were happy then, I think. We had each other. She did everything for me and my sake…"

This was the part of the story where his mood always dropped. "…including some things that weren't so savory. Like oooooolll' Pete," he said with a bitter, sarcastic drawl, "treated us real nice unless he felt like yanking Onyx's chain. Took us in and threatened to turn us back out since we were just dirty little woods kids, grown up all wild, and Onyx said she'd marry him…" He trailed off.

"And then he said you had to go, since he could only support one of you," Watson finished, "and you found her hanging in the barn the next morning."

Tuck scoffed hollowly. "I never understood," he said, "never understood like she didn't just take me and leave like we did with so many other people she'd gotten involved with. She really thought he loved her. She really thought he'd take care of me for life."

"But he didn't," Watson said.

"He didn't," Tuck echoed. "And that's why I had him killed."

Watson looked away. She'd spent enough time tracing the patterns of history, of the world, to know that in the end everything came down to revenge and spite. Humans, she knew, were reactionary creatures who had always been and will always be locked into their fate of striking back against past wrongs, and that was why the future never changed - because it all was the same in the end, wasn't it, past, present, future, all of them nothing more than people hurting each other in turn. It couldn't be helped.

But sometimes she wished things could be different.

"I have to go, Tuck," she said quietly, checking the time on her phone then putting it back in her labcoat pocket. "I'll see you next week."

"Yeah," Tuck said, with a sad smile, "next week. I'll be looking forward to it."

Watson left the detention center and stood in the parking lot, blinking in the late afternoon sun. Although her day job was a defense attorney, albeit one who usually found excuses to hand any new cases off to her father, she was first and foremost a scientist. And not one like her mother, either, a mere detective who was infatuated with forensics, no - Watson was the world's premier temporal physicist.

Or at least she would be if anyone actually knew about what she'd done.

But she kept her time travel a secret for one very simple reason: because she had seen, many times, in her direct future that no one knew about it. Time itself had already dictated that Watson conduct her research and experiments in utmost secrecy, and later when she got the time doors working, that she only tell those whom she had seen in the future as being time-travelers.

To put it simply, Watson felt she could not fight against the pull of fate and would in fact do anything to carry out a future she felt was already set in stone. She didn't even have the full story yet - just trickles reaching her of the mysterious Tula Group and its founder, Omega Watson, or ωatson as she'd sometimes seen it written. She assumed that it was a different version of herself, hailing from the alpha omega timeline - which she knew next to nothing about - but somehow, she wasn't quite sure.

"Is that doubt I smell, Watson?"

Watson took a deep breath. "Misty," she said, but the Misty Wright she was talking to wasn't the same cheerful Misty Wright, Phoenix's oldest biological daughter, that she often saw at WAA. Or rather, she was, but she was from three years in the future, worked for the Tula Group, rarely if ever smiled, and hated Watson with a deep, burning resentment that Watson didn't know what she had done or will do to deserve it.

"You want to go back," Misty-2057 said flatly, "and save Mr. Alechi from his own crimes before he ever commits them. You want to go back and prevent his sister's suicide."

"Is that so bad?" Watson said, still squinting up at the sun. "I only ever do things because they've already been done - because I need to carry the time loop to its completion. Is it so bad that, just once, I want to use my power for good? For what I want?"

"No," Misty-2057 said, and there was a trace of something… ineffable in her voice, some emotion that Watson didn't understand, "I can't fault you for that."

"…but I can," Watson said, her tone of voice cooling, walking towards her bike. She pulled out a bag of vanilla Snackoos and absent-mindedly ate a few. "As Tuck put it: a done bun can't be undone. Mr. and Mrs. Alechi died on June 22nd, 2036; Onyx Alechi died on August 9th, 2044; Tuck Alechi forced Maren Go to murder Peter Salt on July 27th, 2053. That's that. That's how it's meant to be. If I tried to change it, it'd just be another alternate timeline that doesn't mean anything at all."

Out of the corner of her eye, Watson saw Misty-2057's frown deepen.

"What?"

"I just think," Misty-2057 said slowly, "that even if all you can do is ensure that there's a timeline out there where everything worked out for the Alechis… you might as well do it."

"Waste of time," Watson said dismissively.

"Watson, when you can travel through it, you've quite literally got all the time in the world."

"Hm."

She left the detention center parking lot without saying goodbye to Misty-2057, heading back towards her apartment even though WAA wasn't closed for the day yet. A timeline where everything worked out for the Alechis, she thought, frowning, ridiculous… even if it took the intervention of a time-traveler to save their parents' lives, or at least make sure Onyx didn't kill herself, if it had happened then the Kurain Caverns case would never have come to pass.

The true path of the universe was clear here. But, as she pulled up to the Houzuki Discount Apartment Complex and chained her bicycle to the bike rack, it… was still bothering her. Eating away at some part of her.

She wasn't in love with Tuck Alechi, but she at least liked him enough to want to ensure that somewhere, somehow, there existed a world in which some version of him was happy.

Plus, he'd always said that Onyx would have liked her. Maybe Watson was just curious about what kind of person Onyx Alechi really was while she was alive…

May 14, 11:45 PM, Houzuki Discount Apartment Complex, Room No. 2812

Watson couldn't sleep. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much microwaved milk she drank or how long she stared at her ceiling, she couldn't sleep. She threw her covers off, rolling out of bed, giving up on sleep entirely… for most people the next step would be watching TV until morning, but she didn't even own one.

She spared a glance at the papers and binders blanketing every surface and wall of her room, then stepped out. It seemed ridiculous, heretical even, to go back to trying to puzzle out and piece together all the information and conspiracies when what was keeping her up was in fact the idea of going back to 2044 Tennessee. There wasn't anything for her to do there.

Of course, she reasoned as she stepped out into the open-air hallway just outside her front door, maybe there was. Maybe it meant something that the one who had suggested this idea - no, more like dared to speak what Watson was already thinking out loud - was none other than Misty-2057, who always seemed to be at least three steps ahead of everyone else. It could very well be that Watson going back in time to Tuck's childhood was indeed fulfilling a time loop. But…

But she'd be going back to change something she knew had happened. How could that fulfill a time loop when it was already clear that Watson's hypothetical actions would have no effect in the true timeline?

She looked out over the city, her fingers pale against the railing. It was a warm night, warm as would be expected in California in mid-May, and between some far-off buildings Watson could see lights over the harbor. It occurred to her now that she'd never in her whole life been more than fifty miles away from the sea. Tennessee is landlocked, she thought for some reason.

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[ENTER]

August 1 (2044), 1:00 PM, Grundy County, Tennessee

Onyx Alechi was an attractively freckled blonde with eyes as black as the stone she was named after. She was 21 years old and lived a hard life on the road with her twelve-year-old brother, Tuck, who she'd been working since she was thirteen and newly orphaned to keep him from becoming a ward of the state. Being a ward of the state never ended well when you were a poor white kid from the poorest part of the state, where what few people who still lived here didn't have anything but the forest, the mountains, and a way of life that hadn't changed much in over a hundred years.

Onyx Alechi was intelligent and ambitious and often dismissed by the locals as being little more than a gold-digging tramp because she'd use any means necessary to get a roof over her little brother's head, and that often meant shacking up with older men. These past few years it was Peter Salt and so far he hadn't turned them out yet, and Onyx was thinking that maybe he really did like the two of them, in spite of everything. They'd gotten around to talking about marriage, but Onyx was hesitant. She was still young, and Tuck was even younger, and she didn't want the two of them spending the rest of their lives - or however long it took for the 46-year-old Peter to die - in the dictionary definition of "backwoods".

Onyx Alechi bounded down the road in a beat-up old Chevy pickup truck, Keith Urban blaring out her window and dust and small rocks flying behind her. She stopped with a screech of brakes just short of a ponytailed brunette with a dancer's physique under a pristine white labcoat.

"Hey," Onyx said, leaning out the driver's side window. "What do ya think you're doin', walkin' in the middle of the road like that? You gon' get yourself killed!"

"Sorry," the brunette said, in some kind of West Coast accent, "I didn't realize this was a road."

"Ain't you ever seen a dirt road before? Where ya from, anyhow?"

"Los Angeles."

"Ahh, bless your heart. C'mon, hop in, hon. I'll give ya a ride to wherever it is you're goin' - I ain't headed anywhere in particular right now, just cruisin'."

"Thank you," said the brunette, climbing in the passenger seat and buckling in, something Onyx never did. She wiped the sweat from under her chin, and Onyx's eye was caught by the large, ornate bracelet she wore. "It's so humid…"

"Welcome to the South, sweetcheeks. Better get used to humidity if ya plan to stay for long." She gunned it back into drive. "Real interestin' bracelet ya got."

"Oh, thanks. It was my grandmother's… part of a set of two… my dad has the other one." She seemed distracted.

Onyx watched her out of the corner of her eye. "Where to, honey?"

"I'm looking for the residence of one Peter Salt. Should be around here somewhere…" She jumped half out of her seat when Onyx laughed. "What?"

"Peter Salt! 'Course I can take ya to Peter Salt's place! I live there," she said, "we're fixin' to get hitched come… fall, I think."

"You…?" The brunette goggled at her.

"The name's Onyx Alechi, darlin'," she said, proffering one hand while using the other one to steer, "most unfortunate creature on God's green Earth, if ya ask the good folks of Layne's Cove."

"…Watson Justice," she said, gingerly shaking Onyx's hand. "Where exactly is Layne's Cove?"

"Couple miles ahead of the way we're headed. Can I call you Wat?"

"Sure."

"What sorta business ya got with my fiancé, Wat?"

"It's…" Wat looked out the window, away from Onyx. "…complicated."

Onyx looked her over. Looked like she was about the same age as her, and easy on the eyes, too. "You ain't never met him before, have ya? Not an ex-girlfriend or anything like?"

"No, no," Wat said quickly, looking at Onyx again. "Nothing like that. I just…"

"What're ya doin' all the way out here, then?" Onyx said, "so far away from California… an' out in the woods, on foot, and not even knowin' what's a road or where Layne's Cove is. Wat, you even got someplace to stay the night?"

"…no."

"Well, shoot, Peter done took in us poor wayfarin' strangers - me an' my brother, I mean - so I'm sure he wouldn't mind lettin' ya sleep in the barn."

"I think I'd prefer someplace with air conditioning…" Wat muttered, brushing sweat-slicked strands of hair out of her face. Onyx laughed again, and again Wat seemed startled by it.

"I was kiddin' about the barn. We've had a spare room ever since I started sleepin' in Peter's bed. You're welcome to it, hon."

"…thanks."

August 1, 2:10 PM, Peter Salt's house

It looked like a farm. That was Watson's first impression - a farm. Except instead of fields of corn or vegetables or whatever it is they grow on farms (Watson had never really been to one), it was mostly plain old grass and trees. Lots of trees. Being what she supposed Onyx would call a 'city slicker', Watson was very much unaccustomed to such greenery… and by God, it was humid. And it didn't let up, either. If you'd asked Watson an hour ago if it were possible to drown in air, she would have said no, but she was reconsidering the answer now.

The Salt estate was of indeterminate size due to the forest that surrounded it encroaching on what was probably a lawn (although a much bigger lawn than Watson had ever seen - then again, she'd never lived anywhere with a lawn, and she'd heard properties tended to have more square footage out in rural areas). There was the barn Onyx had mentioned, all the way in the back, with a tin roof - it looked a little run-down. And then there was the sprawling, ill-maintained ranch house that Onyx pulled up in front of, parking behind a gray van and three sedans with out-of-state license plates (one was a rental). A barely-pubescent blond boy shot out of the door before she'd even turned off the truck. Watson couldn't help but wince at the way he ran over the gravel driveway without any shoes or socks on.

"Onyx!" he yelled.

"Tuck!" Onyx yelled back with the same tone of voice, throwing open the driver's side door and hopping out. Watson did the same, although more gingerly.

"Onyx, the- who's that?" the child Tuck said, pointing at Watson.

Onyx swatted his hand down. "Don't you point, Tuck, it's rude. And this is Watson Justice - picked her up on the side of the road. She's from California," she added sotto voce.

"California?" Tuck said, "whew, lady. Bless your heart." Onyx elbowed him, and he giggled.

Yeah, Watson thought, this is definitely him. She wondered why Onyx elbowed him for saying "Bless your heart," though, especially after she'd already said that same thing herself. It seemed nice.

"I hear they have lots of real cool caves in California, Miss Watson!" Tuck said, pronouncing the 'Miss' with a hard z. When he spoke, she could see a noticeable gap between his front teeth that he didn't have as an adult.

"Yeah, there are," Watson said, trying to come across as friendly and cheerful, "I went to one called Kurain Caverns last year." Of course, she'd gone because there had been a murder in it, one that his future self had perpetuated, but still… "And please call me 'Wat'." Like you used to. Like you will.

"Now, you said ya had some kinda business with Peter, sweetie?" Onyx said.

"She'll have to wait on that! Mr. Peter ain't got time!" Tuck interrupted, pointing back towards the house, "the cave people done just arrived after ya left, for the Wonder Cave thing they doin'!"

Onyx slapped a hand to her forehead. "Consarn it," she exclaimed, "I thought they wasn't comin' 'til tomorrow! Guess you'll have to wait on talkin' to Peter for a bit, Wat."

"It's fine," Watson said quickly. Quite frankly she still hadn't come up with what exactly she was going to say to Salt when she inevitably had to talk to him - maybe it would be better to explain that she'd really come here to meet with Onyx? Of course, if she was going to go down that route, she should have brought it up during the hour she spent with her in the pickup truck…

"But I really should introduce ya to him before he go," Onyx went on, grabbing Watson's hand, "c'mon, hon. Don't be shy now."

Watson was dragged into the house before she even had the chance to protest. She stumbled into the kitchen after Onyx, and saw a litany of familiar faces standing around the table already. She'd met all of these people one way or another the previous July, although they were younger now - a lot younger, actually. Three out of the five people here were literal teenagers.

"Ay, is this ya girl, Pete?" said a 17-year-old Kitty Kitaki. She actually looked about the same as when Watson had previously met her in the future, right down to the ridiculous 'ghetto' fashion sense, although she had a band-aid across the bridge of her nose and more on her fingers. All brightly colored, of course.

Peter Salt, whom Watson had only ever seen as a dead man, glanced dismissively at the two of them. Apart from his hair being wholly black, he too looked largely the same. "Just the blonde one," he muttered.

"Who's the other one?" said Mary Mec, who as a 16-year-old was already heavily tending towards voluptuousness, though she was dressed conservatively and had her hair tied back into a big, poofy ponytail.

"No idea," Salt said, still poring over maps of the cave, "Onyx, we don't need more strays around here. You and your brother are enough."

"She ain't a stray," Onyx said, rolling her eyes and not responding to Salt's implication about her and Tuck, "she ain't even stayin' that long. This is Watson Justice - from Los Angeles? You know her, Peter?"

"No," Salt said tersely. Onyx glanced at Watson, her expression bordering on suspicious, and Watson gave her a helpless look in return.

"W-Watson, huh?" said Sen Ekha - he was also sixteen, and nearly impossible to recognize, since Watson had known him to be a sublimely pretty if chauvinistic, obnoxious, and weak-willed man. As a teenager, he was gawky and malporportioned, his head seemingly too big for his body, with bad skin, closely-cropped hair, a high-pitched voice, and out-of-fashion-even-for-the-forties glasses. "C-Can I call you-"

"No," Watson cut him off. Now Onyx did look suspicious.

Maren Go, who had curlier hair and less lines on her face, laughed. "That's good, Justice," she said, "put Sen in his place before he starts any of that nonsense."

"Ms. G-Go," Ekha stammered, but she cut him off with a glance. Kitaki and Mec both exchanged glances - Watson would have expected them to laugh, honestly, but they didn't. They looked more nervous than anything else.

"Anyway," Onyx said, finally relieving Watson of her stare and rocking on her heels instead, "Peter, darlin', honey, sugar booger, love of my life-"

"What do you want," Salt sighed, finally standing up straight and giving her a level - and not remotely warm or affectionate - look.

"Wat here don't have a place to stay for the night-"

"She can sleep in the barn."

Watson winced. Onyx frowned, and her tone of voice became suddenly forceful, which surprised Watson a little. "I done told her already she can take the guest bedroom 'til she's ready to go back out west. You really gon' deny her hospitality, Peter?"

There was an awkward pause, where the rest of the speleologists - and Watson - didn't really know how to react. Watson heard the door creak behind her, and assumed Tuck was watching from the crack.

Then Salt gave her and Onyx a rather fake smile and said, "No, of course not. She's welcome to the guest bedroom. My team and I will be spending the next week in Wonder Cave, anyway."

"Swell," Onyx said, grabbing Watson's hand again. (Watson was starting to get a little off-put by all that. She'd heard that Southerners tended to be overly affectionate to strangers just as a matter of course - hence the sweetie hon darlin' stuff - but this was getting ridiculous.)

"…aight, anyway," Kitaki said uncomfortably, picking up one of the maps, "where'd Hana get off to? She still on the can?"

Hana? Watson thought, bemused. The Kurain Caverns case last July had certainly had a Hana, but she was reclusive and only a year older than Watson, which would make her - twelve years old, same as Tuck. That can't be right.

Or maybe it could, Watson realized with widening eyes as Hana Lavatob stepped into the kitchen through another door, drying her hands off on the bottom of her shirt, saying, "Sorry about that, everyone, the food down here just doesn't appear to agree with me. Now, where were w-" She stopped and stared at Watson.

Watson stared back. Lavatob looked different, of course. Her dark skin and slanted blue-black eyes hadn't changed, but where her hair had been in a stylish bob when Watson had met her exactly once, it was now in a very long, straight ponytail. And she wasn't twelve years old.

She looked closer to thirty.