Chapter 7: big reveal *jazz hands*

Summary:

I'm pretty sure timewise, this doesn't check out at all, there's probably about nine Superhoodies too many, and I definitely fucked around with the Xmas episode (plus made it super maudlin), but hey, I learned it from watching you, Dad Howard Overman!

Chapter Text

Simon's not a genius, but he knows he's a better thinker than his friends. He's not sure how he didn't see this coming.

He's aware of his own potential, that he becomes a hero, that he masters parkour and cycling and works out regularly, lives in a flat with his beautiful girlfriend, and lives a life he could only have dreamed of in the unit.

He's aware that it's him who saves his friends, that he can save them all, still.

No one can attempt to master life and death and remain humble and self-effacing, but the fact is, Simon never considered the idea of someone falling in love with him without being forced.

Lucy loved the brokenness in him that reflected herself, and tried to destroy him to preserve it.

Julia gave him confidence, made him believe he could be noticed, but it would be a stretch on either of their sides to consider it love as much as two lonely souls reassuring themselves.

Alisha is his soulmate, and he had to destroy himself in order for her to love him.

Magical tattoos and drug induced power reversals aside, if he's touched by someone, kissed, admired, even, it's because of endless machinations, of making it happen.

It never occurred to him as he endlessly plots to get Alisha, save her and lose her and do it all again, that anyone else would or even could be affected.

It still doesn't click until he's sitting across from Nathan, who's dressed in a Santa suit, wasted, and has just told Simon that he thinks he's in love with him.

They've been doing shots, Simon joining in for once, a little high on adrenaline, blood loss, his new relationship with Alisha, and Nathan's envy.

If Nathan, always taking the piss, can recognise how much he's changed, it solidifies it. He's finally becoming the man he has.

Nathan and Alisha are sniping at each other, as usual.

Simon thinks maybe Nathan's bothered that someone as beautiful as Alisha is with him, but Nathan hardly struggles with women, despite his personality, so maybe it's just general envy. Nathan does tend towards pessimism when it comes to counting himself lucky.

At present, he seems wound-up and excited, necking drinks and needling Nikki, playing the clown, and Simon can't help but smile hopelessly.

He probably has more tolerance for Nathan's behaviour than the others combined, but he can't help it.

He's always had a soft spot for Nathan, like Alisha, both so beautiful, charming and crude; it seemed to indicate some kind of depth of character even when they initially seemed so cruel and thoughtless.

Simon has never demanded much from others, acceptance of his presence aside, and he's self-aware to recognise that he can tolerate a lot of insults spitting from the curve of plump, red lips, that he's a sucker for a pretty face.

Matt taught him that before his first day of community service ever began.

When he told Alisha beauty shields, he meant it. If he'd based his feelings on morality, he'd be best friends with Curtis, in love with Kelly.

He can see Curtis pressing his lips together as Nathan leers at Nikki, demands more drinks; and decides to intervene, dragging Nathan outside by his collar, holding his packet of cigarettes like a stick for a dog.

'Wait, Simon, I've got to talk to you-' Alisha interjects, but he knows when Nathan's like this, he'll blare over any serious conversation, and motions to Alisha for five minutes.

Nathan goes along, pliantly for him, and staggers onto a bench. He's more drunk than Simon thought, which is a considerable amount, considering how he badly he behaves when sober, and how frequently he drinks.

Simon passes him the fags, about to head back in and grab him some water, when Nathan catches his sleeve and comes out with it.

At first Simon thinks it's one of Nathan's jokes. Since they've known each other, Nathan has delighted in getting under his skin, in running hot and cold in an effort to throw him off balance, to get a reaction.

'You're not in love with me,' Simon says, patiently, but with a bare hint of irritation.

There's so much to be done, to finish, he really doesn't have time for one of Nathan's stupid tricks right now.

But Nathan, despite his glazed eyes, looks oddly serious. 'I am, you don't know how long I've wanted to be with you.'

'That was the tattoo,' he reminds Nathan, gently.

'Before that. When we fucked in the club, and...you know, when we met.'

Oh, fuck. Simon's tried desperately, to alter events, emotions, lives, but still preserving causality.

It hits home to him now how stupid this was.

'That was my power reversing. You couldn't help it.'

His mind races, trying to work out what he's done to Nathan.

He can justify the club; it would be crueller for Nathan to witness Jamie's bloody death.

It might even have been kinder, the clean break, no goodbye, no torturous scenes for Nathan and his father.

And Alisha was protected, with Curtis, temporarily mortal but far from the fire, blissfully unaware of ghosts.

He couldn't avoid the tattoos playing out; he needed to become a hero, to take that first step to save the others.

While Alisha was with his future self, cocooned and blissful, he'd felt relatively relaxed; knowing Vince rarely strikes out at Nathan in this loop, smug that he and Kelly are too love-addled to even follow events, let alone make a threat.

He thinks perhaps he may have been gentler with his rejections – aware of the future, he wasn't as panicked, at being touched, of being made fun of.

He didn't have the stomach for the storming out, for hurting his feelings further, even temporarily, after what he's taken from Nathan.

And it only encouraged him, to be honest. Nathan loves a scene.

This time he'd relied more on excuses, on evasions and avoidance, sticking to Kelly's side like a limpet.

He doesn't know whether the tattoo itself causes Nathan's conviction that Simon feels the same, or whether it's just Nathan's natural arrogance, but he put him off, mostly successfully, minus some oversharing:

('Urgh, I'm starving, I skipped lunch.'

'Oh...do you want me to go to the vending machine?'

'Such a gentleman! Nah, I'm on a cleanse. In case we...you know, do it later.'

'...Oh, Jesus!')

All this effort in fixing time removed any illusions he had about himself, past and future, watching himself smirk, needling Curtis after Alisha used her power on him.

Watching himself smelling the girls' skin.

Filming Sally.

Touching Kelly.

As such, he can't deny that a part of him, and not a small one, enjoyed Nathan making a fool of himself, throwing himself at him, creaming over his every word.

He put up with a lot from Nathan, even more through this loop, and he feels like he's earned a little temporary adoration, some appreciation for what he's done, even though Nathan has no idea.

But he never took it seriously. Once the tattoos were removed, Nathan's overcompensation with the mannequin and pursuit of Kelly, albeit unsuccessfully, suggested no permanent ill-effects.

Simon suspects this is just envy talking.

He avoided Jessica altogether, the risk of her father was too large, and causality only dictated that he'd lost his virginity before Alisha, which had turned out to be true, if the bathroom hook-up qualified.

But he remembered Nathan's jealousy the first time around, thinking Simon had a lovely girlfriend, his quickness to remind Simon how not-beautiful he is, and feels a sense of relief. This isn't real.

It's just Nathan is perhaps lonely, maybe even finally growing up, seeing the benefits of a relationship, a home.

He's learnt from Nathan over their service, he can admit that. He likes the guy despite himself, he always did. Maybe he's rubbed off on Nathan, too.

'You're just drunk. You'll meet a girl...' He says, thinking of Marnie. The baby. Vegas.

Their party wall constantly interrupted with Nathan Jr.'s screams, his parent's loud shagging, or simply bellowed instructions: 'Barry, man, I'm in the afterglow, can you grab us a coke? Marnie's up for a four-way later, but you'll need to steer clear of the stitches!'

Alisha thumps on the wall in revulsion, in tandem with Marnie loudly hitting Nathan.

'Come on Alisha, don't tell me you've never been with a girl, my fantasies say otherwise!'

Alisha's rolling her eyes and threatening to book into another hotel, but catching her softening as she held the baby or giggled with Marnie. ('She's not my mate or anything! He's not even my friend, and she's like him in stereo, plus Welsh. I just...look, you try ignoring someone once you've mopped their face while a baby's ripping their twat open!')

He comes back to himself, to the present.

'It's not about a girl, man. I've been with guys; this isn't some...gay crisis.'

'You just felt that because Vince made you. You're straight.'

'Would you listen to me? Jesus. I fucked a guy on the estate at a party three days ago, I promise you, you don't need to worry about my fragile anal virginity.'

Simon winces a little at the stark reminder. He'd always been more comfortable ignoring this side of Nathan, aware that they shared a certain...strangeness in their predilections, that Nathan had his number from the start with all the 'pervert' jabs.

He knows Nathan's fascinated with the stuff he comes out with under Alisha's power, but it embarrasses him. Maybe it is who he is, but it shouldn't be. Not to the girl he loves.

And he always suspected Nathan wasn't particularly committed to one gender. His jibes to Simon aside, the way he spoke to other guys, Curtis, Vince, even the parole workers, was as provocative and sexual as the stuff he said to Alisha and Kelly. Maybe more so.

And he can't imagine Nathan's cheerful hedonism allowing him to reject any willing partner.

'So you want to...fuck me?' He can't help but stutter a little on the word. Even now.

'Absolutely, you offering?' He slurs, winking. Seeing Simon's face, he reacts, a little delayed.

'No, it's not about that! I want to fuck pretty much everyone, you're different.

I like you, and...there's no explaining that.'

He intakes a little hiccupy giggle.

'You always had my back, Barry. You saved me on that roof, you...protected us from that probation worker' –

He waves his hand as a prompt and Simon can't help but respond: 'Sally?'

'Her! You were always ready to help me, even when I was mean to you. Look, I've wanted you a while.'

Even barely sitting up straight, Nathan looks embarrassed to be admitting an emotion rather than a sexual urge, and quickly diverts.

'Obviously you want me.'

Simon doesn't argue the point. It would be a lie, anyway.

Nathan heads on to safer grounds, of the obscene.

'Is it my come face? I've heard...varying reports. Or my cock? 'Cause the STD's all gone, I was gonna tell you this in the hotel. ...Well, get you drunk first, but then Alisha came in.'

'I'm...with Alisha. You know that.'

Simon plans to keep it to that, short, the less he tangles with this loop the better, but he feels words rising up like vomit in his throat.

'She loves me. And I love her. You don't love me; I made you feel this way.'

Nathan tries to interject, but Simon can't stop.

'I killed people. It wasn't some big heroic gesture, I enjoyed it. I planned it, I decided it. I manipulated you, all of you. I stood there, and I let people die, let Jamie die.'

Nathan's silent, a rare occurrence in any timeline.

'I was the guy in the mask, and I made her want me, made her think I was the only one who'd ever touch her. You think you love me, that I've been looking after you out of the goodness of my heart? You're supposed to have a power. You were supposed to be immortal! You died, over and over, and all I did was fuck up and let you fall, let her die, and you left.'

Simon breathes.

Nathan's mouth is forming shapes, not even words, but he doesn't look like he can speak.

Simon's genuinely worried; there have been universes where he's killed Nathan without this reaction.

'You left, you were supposed to be safe. But she died, and I couldn't stay there. Not alone. I went back, and I took your power. Alisha has it. She's immortal.'

Simon shoves himself up from the bench. He feels like he's used all his words, an allotment run out.

He leaves Nathan gawping, staggers as if it's him that's drunk, one destination in mind.

Seth's.