And I'm back, doing what I do best- Angsty one shots. Perhaps inspired a little by that film the Butterfly Effect that I saw recently, but it's not really similar to that at all. The first 4 paragraphs are a load of crap, but it gets better, trust me.
This fic talk about past events in TB as well as some stuff I made up,
Enjoy
There's a popular theory, called the Chaos Theory, also know as the butterfly effect, stating that small, seemingly insignificant thing, such as a butterfly beating it's wings, can have catastrophic effects worldwide.
The Butterfly Effect
When I met Hugh Wallis, I didn't like him. However, the next day, I saw him helping out a distressed child and I realised he must have been nice enough. Nice enough to sleep with and thus damning Abi in the future, before even having her.
I applied for a job at Sunhill because I saw an ad in a paper I didn't regularly get, saying it needed officers, and I needed a change, so I decided to apply. Little did I know that this snap decision would lead to me meeting the love of my life and my fiancé, Stuart Turner.
If the DCI hadn't paired me with DS Phil Hunter the day he was shot, I'd never have saw him in a new light, and he would possibly never have attempted to kiss me, changing my opinion of him forever. No longer was he just the lazy, slacking philanderer. Now he was the lazy, slacking philanderer who wanted me. It was a self esteem boost if nothing else.
If I hadn't slept with Hugh, he wouldn't have abducted Abi, and Phil wouldn't have helped to save her. Wouldn't have been my knight in shining armour. Wouldn't have held me while I cried, blaming myself for things I couldn't possibly have seen coming.
If that cow, Kate hadn't turned up in time to interrupt Phil and I's first proper date…. Who knows where we would be right now. Maybe it would be him standing beside the alter tomorrow instead of Stuart. Maybe we'd already be married, with one, two, maybe even three kids. Or maybe he would have cheated on me within the first month, and I'd have moved on to Stuart anyway. Who knows?
If that poor man's child hadn't been killed in that car crash, the station wouldn't have been held hostage. Phil wouldn't have had to help Zain carry out his idiotic plan, jumping into a car and driving to force open a boot. Zain wouldn't have crashed, and I wouldn't have realised that I loved Phil after screaming his name into that unresponsive radio. I wouldn't have thrown my arms around Phil the first chance I got, ignoring all stares and comments. I wouldn't have had to brush it off the next day as worry for a 'friend'.
If Stuart hadn't arrived, would I have eventually kissed Phil like I kissed Stuart in that car park? Or would the pointless, painful game of flirting between 'just friends' have gone on until it killed us both? Phil became so much more attractive to me while I was with Stuart. Now that there was something stopping me getting him, I wanted him more than ever. No longer was it inevitable that Phil and I would get together, because I had Stuart. And I couldn't help hating Stuart just a little bit for that.
Alternatively, if I'd never met Phil, would I even have agreed to date Stuart? I would like to say yes, of course I would. I'm marrying him tomorrow. But the honest part of me knows that I did it because I knew Phil was watching. I didn't know I'd fall pregnant with Stuart's child. I didn't know I'd start to care for him the way I care for Phil. At the start it was a jealousy thing, just to hurt Phil like he'd hurt me with Kate. I didn't know it would get serious.
If I hadn't miscarried, I certainly wouldn't have been sent to Romania. It would have been too dangerous for the baby. Stuart would probably just have sent Phil alone, and he might have been killed. So for that reason alone, I thank God I lost that child.
If we hadn't been shot at in Romania, I wouldn't have kissed Phil and we wouldn't have made love in that grotty B&B. We wouldn't have had a relationship to hide from everyone back home. Phil wouldn't have kissed me in the corridor, and I wouldn't have to be afraid that anyone's looking. If Phil hadn't told me he loved me, I wouldn't have gotten scared. I wouldn't have run from our relationship, proving myself to be a complete hypocrite. With Stuart, I asked for a commitment I knew he couldn't give me. The first time I got what I'd been wanting from Phil Hunter in four years, I'd broken his heart. Maybe I want to be unhappy.
If I hadn't ran from Phil, Stuart wouldn't have seen his window of opportunity and dived back in, saying he was ready for the commitment that I knew he could never give me. That's why I agreed. Because after Phil, I couldn't bear to be alone while he went back to his philandering ways. Unfortunately, he didn't. He stayed alone, looking miserable every time Stuart spoke of our relationship.
If Phil hadn't told me that he knew I loved him in that arrogant tone, I wouldn't have agreed to move in with Stuart again. We wouldn't have been arguing over stupid things such as what colour to paint the walls and cleaning. I wouldn't have walked out, to the bar on Christmas Eve and spotted Phil alone in a corner, ignoring the girl in her twenties trying to force herself on him. I wouldn't have listened to his woes about child support, and he wouldn't have listened to mine about Stuart. We wouldn't have reminisced about old times and he wouldn't have kissed me. I wouldn't have kissed him back and an angry Stuart wouldn't have seen us and punched Phil. And most importantly, I wouldn't have realised that Phil was right. I was still in love with him and I wouldn't have gone back to Stuart out of pure guilt for having feelings for another man.
I wouldn't have ignored Phil the next day when he pulled me aside and told me he still loved me. I wouldn't have to have felt guilty for sleeping with him on my birthday, which Stuart had left me to celebrate alone.
I wouldn't have sat, surrounded by friends and family members last night at my hen party, wishing the groom was another man. I wouldn't have stood up, telling everyone I want an early night. I wouldn't have gone for a walk alone in the cool night air, just to clear my head. I wouldn't have entered a deserted park, just to sit on a freezing bench, in a place Phil and I once shared chips on an undercover case.
If Phil had proposed instead of Stuart, I would have heard the man approach from behind. I would have been able to cry out, help myself as he shoved me to the ground and tried to rape me. I wouldn't have had to been saved by a passing stranger. I wouldn't have blurted out Phil's name instead of Stuart's when he asked who to call. I wouldn't have spent the night in Phil's arms as I cried, not just over the rape. Over everything. What sort of person was I that I only ran to Phil for comfort, before pushing him aside as soon as Stuart came back?
If my life had turned out the way it should have, I wouldn't be standing shaking outside this church door. I wouldn't be nervous, because I'd know I'd be marrying the man I'm meant to be with. It's nearly time for me to come inside, and I wouldn't be postponing the moment, staring all around furtively searching for Phil. I wouldn't be relieved when he comes to talk to me, minutes before the wedding starts. I wouldn't be hanging on his every word, desperate for him to say those three little words, and give me an excuse to break away. I wouldn't be desperately disappointed as he says
"Good luck" instead.
This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, so why am I terrified that something will go wrong? That I'll say the wrong name. That Stuart'll realise my feelings for Phil are far from over. When the vicar asks if anyone objects, I can't help but look at Phil, and he stares right back, staying in his seat. Slowly, I turn my head back to Stuart and force myself to smile. Suddenly there's muttering in the crowd to my right, and I turn and see Phil is standing silently. All eyes are on him now, breath collectively held, wondering what'll happen next. A realise with a pang that he's not going to say it. I've given him all the wrong signals, and now I might have lost him forever. For what seems like an age, he stands still, before clearing his throat and mumbling
"Sorry," before dropping back to his seat, face red. I sigh, which Stuart clearly mistakes for relief and he whispers
"Thank Goodness he didn't made a scene." I nod numbly and wonder what small thing I could have changed to make Phil say what he had to. My eyes flick to Phil and he mouths 'sorry' at me. Sorry for what, I wonder? Making a scene? Or losing his courage at the last second? Looks like I'll never know.
So what do you all think?? If i get enough positive feedback I may do one from Phil's POV with a different ending. and with none of that " I wouldnt" stuff repeatedly, cos that was really starting to drive even me mad towards the end