Time is an elastic concept. It waves and bends, curling in on itself. It is as boundless as the concept of self. They have no single self. They have only us and ourselves and endless voices in perfect unison in the same never ending song. They are and were and will always be. Endlessly the same, a never changing chorus.

At least it was before.

Something has changed. There is a single voice out of tune. It falls silent and still, listless in the whole that used to be so seamless, or it sings a soft, sad song it doesn't even understand anymore.

It is different. It should not be. They can't fix it. They don't even know why it's different at all.

There is a single voice that will not sing with them. They are confused. They are one but a single voice will not sing with them. They long for the simplicity of their chorus.

They grow angry and their song becomes one of pain and misery and threat.

A single voice will not sing with them.

They beg and plead and cajole.

A single voice will not sing with them.

They soothe and comfort and mollify.

A single voice will not sing with them.

They can't continue this way. It is wrong in ways they do not understand but can't allow. They can't let one voice change them. They must not change. They are unchanging, always and forever. They cannot change.

One voice is a virus. They surrounded it and choke out its song. They can't fix it, can't stop it, so they will blot out the difference. But the closer they get to it, the louder they hear the song.

Shinji.

It falls quiet and then rises in vehemence only to weaken once more. On and on in repeat, a song they hate because it is not theirs.

I love you, Shinji.

They are tired of the song. They want to return to themselves but the voice refused to abate. It is different. It is not of them anymore. It is an aberration. If they expel it, they will not be whole, but they are distressed in keeping it.

Tabris .

They rear up as another single voice begins its own song. The virus has spread, has begun infecting the rest of them with the burden of self. They can't let this go. This must stop!

Tabris, can you hear me?

stop stop stop go away this must stop this must stop

It does, for a moment. They hope they have finished this nonsense. There is a song to sing, a single song to sing, and then they will be whole and together and-

Kaworu, can you hear me?

no no no no stop this go away we will sing our song go away

Kaworu, you must answer me.

madness stop it hurts go away go away

They are so busy trying to fight the new single voice that they forget the old one. They forget the first voice that dared sing out of turn.

Kaworu.

Shinji.

no no no stop it no don't encourage discourse

Kaworu, can you hear me?

I love you, Shinji. I love you.

Nagisa Kaworu, you will answer me.

Everything falls silent at the command laced in that voice. They are frightened and confused. It makes them angry but they find themselves lost. Silent. Still.

Shinji?

No. Wake up, Kaworu. You are disrupting the song.

Command, the strongest voice. They bow under it. They belong to it. They understand and they stay silent.

Shinji-

Stop it. Stop it now. You agreed. You cannot disrupt the song.

I love you, Shinji.

You will stop this now, Kaworu. You will not disrupt the song. You will give up this self. You will give up, Tabris.

Shinji.

You will give up this self.

There is silence. They wonder for a moment if the single voice has relented. They hope it has rejoined the whole. More than anything, they want to be whole and sing.

No.

Horror laces through them and then they are overwhelmed by the strength of anger that rolls over them. They are at once caught up in it and frightened. They are losing themselves in the commanding voice.

You will give up this self.

No!

You agreed! You will stop this now and join the song!

Shinji!

No!

SHINJI!

TABRIS WILL JOIN THE SONG OR WE WILL DESCEND UPON THIS SELF WITH EVERY VENGEANCE AVAILABLE TO US!

Silence. It is a blessed thing but they can feel that all is not well. The anger still rolls over them. And they can still feel the faint vibration of the single voice off from theirs. Waiting.

A single voice begins to sing their song but it is soft and slow and sad. It is a beautiful, terrible sound to behold. It is more painful than when it sang its own song. They cannot bear to listen.

Stop this, Tabris.

I will sing.

Stop.

I will not disrupt the song. I will protect Shinji. I will sing.

Tabris.

I agreed.

There is pain in the collective. It sheers deep within them in ways they had never thought possible. They have never felt a grief this deeply. Tabris is different. Tabris is not the same. Tabris is no longer one of them. He is apart and he cannot be with them any longer but he is trying and it hurts them so very much.

They will never be whole again.

Tabris, stop this.

I will-

You still stop. It's finished now. You can no longer join our song. We release you.

There is a quiet surprise and then a joy they can barely understand. How just a feeling could be so overwhelming from one small voice confounds them, but they cannot deny it.

Shinji.

You may go to him.

The promise.

We will not return. We release you.

There is a moment of stillness, thoughtful.

Rei?

She is not of us. We do not know her. You will go.

Thank you.

Do not thank me. You have ruined us. Do not return. You are not of us. We do not know you.

You are kind.

Do. Not. Return.

Tabris grows quiet and distant. He drifts from them, his self solidifying with every moment away, curling around his own song and letting it bring his existence into something tangible once more.

They stop watching him. Tabris is not of them. They do not know him. They care nothing for his song. They allow him to leave and then forget he was ever there.

Tabris is lost. He drifts as he collects the lost bits of himself, drawing it together into his reawakened self. He knows he must go somewhere, but only has a word and a feeling to guide him. He is so very lost. He isn't even sure he is Tabris anymore.

The silence engulfs him like a living thing. He holds onto the word as if it could save him. As long as the word is safe, his existence is true, whether he finds his way or not.

He hears a voice, quiet and gentle, and begins to follow it. The voice never seems any closer but he knows he must get there. He knows it is leading him true. If he can just get to the voice, everything will be as it must be.

He reaches out and sees the ghost of fingers forming before him, long and thin and white. So very real. He grows closer and the voice becomes louder. His body slowly forms itself with his song and his word safe within it. He reaches for the voice with both hands, knowing he only needs one more push. One last hurtle.

Fingers find his own. He opens newly formed eyes and Rei stares back at him. Her expression is gentle, a balm, and he lets her draw him into her arms.

"It's almost over," she tells him. "You're almost there."

"Come with me. Lets go see Shinji together."

Rei closes her eyes. "Not yet. I'm not whole yet. But I'll come soon."

He looks at her, following the lines of her body. There are pieces missing, slowly forming along the edges. She isn't whole but she will be and that is a great comfort. Rei takes his hand in hers.

"Can you hear him?" she murmurs. "He's calling."

He can hear it, that sweet voice. It's calling a name he doesn't quite know at first and then it becomes more and more clear.

Kaworu smiles as his name settles within his mind. It's time. He reaches past Rei and lets her go. Then he lets Shinji draw him back into the real world.