After Klaus got out of jail, he started bringing Elijah around much more often. They would go out and every time they left, if Alistair was sitting anywhere in sight of the door, Klaus would stop and give him a look as if to say 'I'm going out with someone else. Aren't you jealous'?

Alistair didn't mind. He thought it was okay for him to think that because it gave him time to try and make up things with Astrid, who wasn't talking to him.

"Tell me what I can do to get you to talk to me," he pleaded as he followed Astrid from room to room because she left it every time he entered it.

"I don't know what I can tell you," Astrid said. "How can you have the same kind of relationship a marriage proposal goes horribly wrong?"

"It didn't go horribly wrong," Alistair told her. "I would be happy to marry you."

"No," Astrid turned away. "I know you're only saying that so I won't be mad at you and that's no way to start a marriage." She stalked away and Alistair went to collapse on his bed and stare listlessly at the ceiling until something suddenly appeared out of nowhere, drifted down, and landed on his face.

"Lucky for me, that was a piece of paper and not an anvil or something," he whispered to himself. He read the note over and swore.

"I should have known," he told himself. "I should have known." The news that things were beginning to change in the present was not news that surprised him, but he had hoped it would take longer for it to happen, since it seemed highly unlikely that he would be in the position to fix things any time soon. He crumpled the note up, threw it in the trash, and strode out of his room.

"What's the matter?" Elijah asked him. "Is everything all right?"

"No, everything is not all right," Alistair snapped. "Everything is terrible. But I don't want to burden you with that since you can't fix it anyway."

"Are you sure?" Elijah wanted to know.

"Yes," Alistair nodded. "Just having trouble with Astrid and some…other things."

"Well, if one of those other things is my brother, I'd be more than happy to help you," Elijah offered. "You just met him, but I have many years of experience dealing with his pettiness and tantrums."

"Thank you," Alistair smiled. "But actually, he's the least of my problems. Do you suppose, though, that you could get him to talk to me? I know he's upset about what I did with Amy, but it's awfully important."

"All right," Elijah nodded. "I'll see what I can do. And are you sure there isn't anything else you'd like to tell me? I know we just met, but you look like you need to talk to someone."

"Oh thank you, but it would probably just make things worse if I did," Alistair told him. "Let's just stay with my talking to your brother for now."

"What do you want?" Klaus asked irritably when he came to see Alistair at bedtime. Elijah had told him much earlier, but he was so mad at his friend that he'd avoided it all day. "I'm still mad at you, so if this is some attempt to get me to forgive you, it won't work. Not after what happened with Amy."

"I understand that you're fond of her," Alistair replied as he adjusted the oil lamp above his bed so the light in the room was dimmed a little. "But she's engaged. You can't go after an engaged woman and expect her to reciprocate in kind, especially when you only see her as a blood source."

"I don't only see her as a blood source!" Klaus replied, looking wounded. "I think she has other good qualities too. I believe we could be very happy together."

"You believe that, but she doesn't cause she's engaged to someone else," Alistair told him. "Let it go! Let her decide to come to you. I'm sure she wil."

"No," Klaus told him. "I won't. Goodnight."

Alistair sighed. This was not good. If time was messing up for Helene because he and Astrid weren't together, he didn't want to think about what was going on with Klaus and Amy's girls.

The line of thought didn't change when, in the next few days, they read in the paper of Amy's marriage to Jonathan.

"Oh, my god!" Alistair said, spitting his coffee on the paper and making the ink run. "How…how…how…"

"You lied to me!" Klaus told him. "You said that if I was kind and good and patient, that if I showed her how much I cared, she would leave that other man and be with me. Now what hope is there for that if she's married? This is all your fault!"

"Don't blame him, Niklaus," Elijah said without looking at his brother. "I'm sure you did something to frighten her and this is just a reaction to that."

"Yes," Alistair nodded. "Did you do something? What was it?"

"Well, apparently showing up at someone's house in the middle of the night with flowers is not as romantic as the novels would like you to believe," Klaus scoffed.

"You broke into her house in the middle of the night to give her flowers?" Alistair asked, his jaw dropping a little. "Are you insane?"

"I climbed up her house, got into her room through the window, watched her sleep for a little bit, and when she woke up and I offered her the flowers, she screamed and ran away," Klaus said. "She didn't even give me time to explain myself."

"Honestly, I don't blame her," Alistair told him. "You're lucky you weren't arrested again." He read the article again and clicked his tongue. "Poor Amy," he said to himself. "She probably thought marriage was her only way to protect herself." Although what this marriage would do to Savannah in the present, he didn't even want to think about.

"Do you wonder what's going on with my mother ever since she disappeared?" Savannah asked Jonathan.

"Yes, I do a little bit," Jonathan said. "Being sent back in time…it's such a risky venture. If the spell isn't cast properly, anything that's done could change the future…sometimes completely."

Savannah went to look at the picture of Jonathan and her mother that had been put on the mantel. "You both looked so good back then," she said.

"Yes, we did," Jonathan agreed. "It's a shame nothing ever came of us." He looked at Savannah apologetically. "I mean, it was good because if it had, then I never would have met you."

"It's okay," Savannah told him. "Would you mind if I put a picture of my parents next to it?"

"Of course," Jonathan nodded.

She went to look for one, and came back, her hands shaking as she held the photo.

"What?" Jonathan asked her.

"This isn't normal," she said. "This picture has been around, but it's not really old, is it?"

"No," Jonathan replied. "I wonder why it's begun to fade away, then?"

"What?" Savannah asked. They watched together as the frame suddenly housed a blank photograph. Then Jonathan fainted.

When he came to, Savannah was standing over him and fanning him with a newspaper. "Jonathan?" She said, leaning close to his face, her red hair brushing his cheek. "Jonathan, are you all right?"

"Who are you?" He asked as he sat up. "Who are you, and where am I?" He grabbed her. "What have you done with my wife? Where's Amy?"

"She's gone!" Savannah cried. "I don't know where. And she's not your wife! I am! She's my mother."

Jonathan frowned. "Your mother? If she's your mother, and my wife, then you must be…our daughter. Yes. Yes, I can see it. What's your name?"

"Savannah," Savannah repeated in frustration. "What's the matter with you?"

"I don't know why my daughter would have such an outlandish name," Jonathan told her. "And why is it that you think you're my wife? You seem much too old for childish thoughts like that." He stood up and grabbed her hand. "Come along. I'm taking you to the doctor."