by tumblweed

Aldous.

It's Aldous, she thought, clutching her neck. Her every worry for their star-crossed fate spun faster and faster, an ominous cyclone forming above their heads and sucking out the remaining elevator oxygen. The apex of the tornado danced right above her clavicle, touching down on her swelling windpipe.

They were going to die. Again.

She'd doomed them already.

Cosima hovered above her, close but offering ample space for Delphine to breathe, rubbing soothing lines down her spine. "Nice and slow, Delphine," she said, her voice suddenly soft and low. "Breathe, just breathe."

As soon as she heard the words, an unmistakable warmth flooded in, soothing the tightness in her chest, loosening her too-high breaths. And when she looked up, she knew Cosima could feel it too not the memory of a past life. No, this was something new entirely.

The brunette's eyes softened when they met hazel, the recognition drooping the sharp flick of her eyeliner, her lips parting slightly with the slacking of her jaw. "We've done this before," Cosima whispered,! eyes wide and stinging at the corners.


"Allons-y, Delphine," her maman called, shuffling past her and into the crowd, golden clutch between bright red fingernails. "Don't let go of my skirt. There are so many people - I fear if I lose you, I may never find you again," she laughed, exasperated, annoyed, and Delphine tugged at the silky fabric bunched in her hand. She looked up at the back of her maman's head as they wove through the crowd. Perfectly manicured blonde curls (identical to her own) barely rustled in their forward motion. Perhaps it was the hairspray, or maybe the undeniable poise of her strut, but she'd hardly ever seen her maman outside of perfect dress and perfect, unmoving hair. Delphine's legs carried her in longer strides than she preferred, matching her maman's much taller frame step-for-step, her polished white sandals tripping over uneven cracks in the cobblestone street. With the top of her head aligned with her mother's ribs, trailing behind with a fistful of clothing was often the way that they traveled around Paris.

Today, however, it was especially important that they not be separated. All through the streets, a large Parisian festival boomed with fireworks and chatter, a four day event that drew tourists from all over the globe. Generally a happy attitude and spirit of celebration accompanied the food and games and rides. However, this year attracted members of a new uprising, something Delphine knew little about other than its position as an ominous inherent threat to the well being of Paris and the rest of the world. Her parents took great care to never discuss it in front of her — perhaps to shield her, or because they assumed she could not understand — but she knew. She'd snuck newspapers into her room and read them at night when the chances of being caught were slim.

Now, riots intermingled with the festivities, and gatherings of protesters were at times indistinguishable from families enjoying the celebrations. Officers paced along the sidewalks, scowling and scanning the crowds, festival-goers moving from their path, avoiding them like sharks in a school of wary fish.

Her tiny hand ached from clenching the bottom hem, her senses heightened and nervous, her shoulders bouncing off of random bodies as she attempted to trail directly behind. She grew so focused on holding tight that when a shop window to her right crashed under the weight of a hurling brick, she startled with a sudden jump and twist. She watched the crowd of protesters rush into the broken window, pouring over the jagged shards like a waterfall. Officers ran towards the commotion, yelling into black boxes on their shoulders, pulling rioters off the top and flicking out their batons.

She watched as a hydrant was twisted free and water blasted over the crowd, and the mass of bodies clambered to breach the shop's entrance. She felt the misting spray on her neck, on the side of her face. She heard the crowd's rumble rise up, a woman screaming and a man's voice booming over a megaphone. Her rapidly increasing breaths climbed up, higher and higher in her chest. Within moments they were stuck in her throat, which seemed to be collapsing in on itself.

And when she looked down, her hands were empty.

"If I lose you, I may never find you again," she heard, echoing over and over.

Her fingernails clawed at her throat, attempting to open her trachea through layers of skin and muscle and tendons. She didn't feel the pain of the scratches, didn't notice the heavy swarm of people pushing her tiny frame back and forth frantically. She knew only that her vision was drawing in at the sides, the rumble growing softer and muted, as though she was under water.

And then, a grip on her arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" she heard a young girl's voice cutting through the din, speaking to her in English, a language she'd only just begun to learn in school. She tried to place the words, unable to understand them in her state, but there was a warmth to the tone that conveyed the message perfectly. "Come on," the voice said, and she felt a gentle pull at her arm, the other girl guiding her to the side of the street into an empty alcove.

Delphine collapsed onto her knees, heaving and gasping for air, scratching and clutching at her neck. She couldn't look up, couldn't see the face of her savior, but the girl dropped down as well, positioned herself cross-legged on the concrete next to her. The girl's hands rubbed at her back, a warmth and kindness she'd never known. At least not without the kindness requiring something in return.

"What's your name? Umm, I mean, quel est...? Ahh. I forget."

But Delphine knew.

She looked up on instinct, the girl's worried eyes shining, hid behind wiry glasses and framed with short, wavy hair. "Del-" she gasped, then shook her head. She couldn't continue.

"Del? That's your name?" The girl paused for a moment, waiting on an answer, but she couldn't. Her lungs wouldn't cooperate. "Breathe, Del. It will be okay," she spoke slowly. "Just breathe."


"Do you remember?" Cosima asked, hand rubbing the tightness from Delphine's chest, just as it had all those years ago. The other hand grazed Delphine's jaw, thumb tracing the bottom line of her mouth. And her throat loosened, just as it had as a child. Though still labored, her breath evened out.

"It was you," Delphine gasped, nodding. "Of all the people in all the world, it was you, thousands of miles from here."

"I can't believe this," Cosima laughed, almost annoyed at the near constant state of shock she'd been drowning in for the past few hours. "Actually, you know what? I can. I've felt myself die several times today via past lives, so this this might actually be the most believable part."

"I think you are right," Delphine replied, slipping her hand from her own throat and cupping the back of Cosima's neck, offering a light squeeze. "I always remembered that day, all my life. I always wondered who you were and where you went. The kindness of a stranger of anyone, really was completely foreign. I couldn't stop wishing I'd thanked you."

"You can thank me now," she grinned, the space between them more relaxed since Delphine's breath had mostly returned to normal.

Her lips curled slightly at the corner, their eyes searching each other's faces, noses moving closer until they bumped and offered a gentle nuzzle. She smiled into the kiss, an expression mirrored in Cosima's face when their lips touched. "Merci," she said, pulling away only far enough to speak, her eyes still shut.

"You're welcome," Cosima replied, moving to stroke at the side of her face, brush a few loose hairs from her forehead. "But I'm not sure how much credit I can take. I mean, I remember it feeling, like, magnetic. I couldn't stop myself."

"The red string," Delphine replied. And for a brief flicker of a moment, Cosima's face shifted her eyes suddenly free from glasses and winged liner, irises transformed into a darker shade of brown and almond in shape. Her dreads flickered into long strands of silken black hair hanging loose around her abruptly more angular face. "An invisible tie linking lovers throughout time or location or circumstance," she recited, staring in wonder. The soft clothing that covered Cosima's shoulder transfigured into cold samurai armor beneath Delphine's palm. It was impossible, but she could feel the rough edges of the metal on her fingertips.

And then, Cosima's face shifted back as quickly as it had changed like a holographic glitch. Warm cloth replaced unforgiving metal, but her eyes never wavered in their familiarity. "The string may stretch or tangle, but it will never break," Cosima said.

"決して," Delphine replied, her lips moving in a way that felt distantly familiar. "Never," she whispered again.


In one hand, Cosima spun a pastry between her pinched fingers, biting off the sweet corners and chewing before moving on to the next bite. She walked between her parents, mom holding a camera against her chest, ever ready to capture a candid moment. A bright red fanny pack was strapped tight against the front of the taller woman's waist and swayed with each step across the crowded festival area. Her dad's hand rested on her shoulder keeping her close as they moved throughout the crowd, protective of his blissfully unaware daughter.

Her parents both seemed so fascinated, so invested in things like Parisian architecture and famous works of art — subjects she considered the most boring parts of any vacation. She was much more interested in the people and the fast French spoken all around her. Yes — people and rides and, at the moment, a delicious pastry she wished she'd eaten more slowly. Barely a bite was left between her fingers by the time they reached the other side of the festival.

She popped the last piece into her mouth and took a moment to look around as her parents discussed their next destination. Bathroom break? Stand in line for the Ferris wheel? They always took so long to negotiate. She sighed.

To her left, Cosima watched a small group of people grow in quiet agitation. Many of them wore thin red bandanas tied around their wrists. Restless and swarming, they emitted a different energy from the rest of the festival. One man with his hair drawn back into a ponytail squatted next to a trash bin, uncovering and lifting a broken brick from the sidewalk. Cosima's stomach twisted as his arm wound up and shot the massive rock straight through a storefront window. She watched the crowd surge forward, tumbling and rolling over itself to push inside the building.

The crowd surrounding the scene began to buzz, people moving faster than before, some even breaking into a swift run to escape the growing mass of rioters.

And in the midst of the chaos, only one point remained constant. A girl not much older than herself stood unmoving, face twisted in panic and shock, mouth opening and shutting like a fish fallen into dry sand. Her dress was white and laced with tiny pink flowers, a pristine ribbon circling her waist and bowed elegantly in the back. The ringlet curls of her hair stopped between her shoulderblades. Cosima wiped her sticky pastry hand on her Star Wars t-shirt and leaned forward.

An impulse to run to her, to save this girl from the thundering crowd, set Cosima's feet into a forward motion. She slipped between tall rushing bodies, everyone bigger and older than herself, knocking her back and forth while her eyes stayed transfixed.

The roar of voices grew quieter and quieter until her head was full of faint static. One arm stretched out to get the girl's attention, mere feet away, and the static grew louder. But from behind her, a coldness slipped into the hand hanging limply at her side and tugged her back firmly.

Cosima whipped her head around, the static gone and surrounding volume increased with yells and chants from rioters. The girl who looked back at her, hand gripping around Cosima's knuckles, had dark eyes that stared without blinking or flinching at the sounds of police batons meeting skin. Her hair was parted down the middle and fell in light brown waves, mouth closed and grim in its posture. The girl shook her head from side to side, the act sending a small shiver up Cosima's spine, even amidst the heat of a Parisian summer.

"Wha - ?" Cosima gasped. "Let me go!" She tried to break her arm free, yanking it back, but the girl held firm, fingers closing painfully tighter. Still, the girl only stared, shaking her head once more.

"Let - " Tug.

"Me - " Tug.

"Go!"

At the final pull, Cosima slipped her hand free from the other girl's iron grip, the force of it sending her stumbling backwards into somebody's waist. The girl stepped back as well and opened her mouth, as if to gasp, but no noise came out. Disbelief colored her features as she recoiled. Cosima's hands trembled and she rubbed the pain from her nearly-crushed knuckles.

The girl's fixed stare, a combination of intoxicating and eerie, would have been near impossible to break if not for the gasping French girl with golden ringlets down her back invading her thoughts. She propelled herself backwards and turned stiffly, persevering towards her original destination.


"Holy watershed. It's the girl!" Cosima exclaimed, legs shooting her upright. "The same girl I saw on the street last night with the she was playing hopscotch. But she looked the same as she did back then. Like, still a kid. Never grew up."

Delphine lifted one hand and Cosima helped her up from the floor until they stood together, fingers laced.

"What girl?"

"There was this girl in the crowd at that festival in Paris. She tried to I don't know stop me from meeting you or something? This creepy little girl. During the riot."

Delphine's stomach dropped.

The restaurant, she thought. And then, It's Aldous.

"The little girl with the dark eyes?"

"Yeah, I don't think she's ever blinked," Cosima shivered in exaggeration.

"I - I saw her last night. And I knew — " Delphine's voice trailed off. She brought her hand to cover her mouth, teeth biting at her bottom lip. Her hazel eyes scattered over empty airspace, piecing together the smattering of impossible information she seemed to have collected.

"Knew what?" Cosima asked, tipping the blonde's chin up to meet her gaze. "What did you know, Delphine?"

When their eyes met, Delphine's hand fell from her lips and landed at Cosima's hip, squeezing and pulling her close. "I knew I had seen her before."


Once her windpipe had relaxed, Delphine gasped in lungfuls of air, slowly with the help of the American girl— this girl who had arrived out of seemingly nowhere, whose presence alone was able to comfort her. This girl who continued, even now, to pat her soothingly on the back.

"Delphine!" she heard from above, a familiar stern voice. "Get up from the dirty ground. You will ruin your dress!"

Maman yanked her to her feet by the top of her arm until she was standing unsteady, swaying back and forth. The girl with the short dark hair stood on her own and took a few steps backwards, presumably finding safety in distance from her maman's chastising. She watched the girl wipe her hands over worn out jeans.

"Come! We're already late because you wandered off." Maman started her long strides once more, pulling her back into the crowd without a single word spoken to the girl who had saved her. This time, Delphine was not trusted to trail behind; she was dragged away with a grip stronger than she'd thought her maman capable of.

Immediately, her view of the American girl was covered in the thickness of the racing crowd. "Merci!" she called out, but her voice was one small sound in an ocean of screams and thuds, drowned before it ever had a chance to surface.

As they made their way to the other side of the festival and past the wall of bodies, her eyes caught on the enchanting image of a young girl with eyes like caves, standing at the edge of the festival fence. Delphine felt herself lock in, powerless to look away. In one hand, the little girl held a pinwheel, it's colors swirling as it spun around and around, circling slowly, despite the still, muggy air.

Behind her, the high arc of an officer's arm ended at the back of a protester's head, a crack of his baton and the woman's frame fell forward, limp and unmoving, into the cobblestone street.

The girl with the pinwheel didn't even flinch.


"You've seen her, too?" Cosima asked, pulling away to pace around the small space, the walls and floor rocking slightly from her movements in their suspension. "Thank God I'm not crazy."

"I think we might both be crazy," Delphine replied, an incredulous laugh at the end of her breath.

"Very possible," Cosima agreed with a flick of her wrist, waving her index finger above her head. "But think about it. In every lifetime, Cerball is in the mix already his new reincarnation or whatever you want to call it. But this time is different. We beat him to it!"

Her wide grin at hopeful logic faltered when she turned to meet Delphine's eyes. The taller woman, standing now above her full height in heels, leaned back against the metal railing at the back wall of the elevator. Her eyes fluttered closed and she pinched the bridge of her nose in a heavy sigh.

"What?"

"I " She paused, lip pulled and bitten between her teeth, heart slamming at the inside of her ribcage. "I think I know who he is. His name is Aldous now and I " She sucked in a breath, working up the courage to deliver the final blow to Cosima's hopefulness. "We are seeing each other."

"He's your boyfriend?"

"Non, not boyfriend. He is my " Delphine threw up her hands and ran them down around the back of her neck, worrying the tensed muscles. "It's complicated."

"Are you in a relationship with him or not?" she asked, voice louder now than ever.

"It's not that simple, Cosima."

In a surge of defeat and helplessness, the brunette spun and slammed her closed fist against the metal wall of their tiny, suspended room. The crack of bone against such an unforgiving surface reverberated for a second. Immediately, Cosima pulled her hand back to shake it out, her knuckles split and throbbing.

"Goddammit!" Cosima huffed. "What could you possibly see in him? He has ruined us literally been the death of us in so many lifetimes. Why would you choose to be with him!?"

With eyes full of fire, she stopped, turning straight towards Delphine, awaiting an answer. But when she caught sight of her other half, a mixture of fear and guilt in her posture and tears at the corner of her eyes, Cosima's heart dropped into her stomach. And at the first sob, as Delphine's shoulders hunched forward, hand clamped over her mouth, Cosima felt the rage drained from her body.

Once again, the urge to comfort seemed to overwhelm Cosima, tugged to Delphine's side by the little red string that had connected them through so many lifetimes. Her arms around Delphine's waist, the blonde hunched and crumpled rapidly into the hug.

"It's my fault. It's always my fault," Delphine hiccuped, hands over her wet eyes. "Every time, it's my actions, my choices that get us killed."

Cosima swallowed hard. The same thought had crossed her mind a few times, and even fueled the little burst of anger she'd just displayed. However, hearing Delphine verbalize those thoughts out loud allowed her the distance to recognize the inherent flaw in assigning any blame to Delphine's actions. She took a shaky breath, held her other half's sobbing frame just a little bit tighter.

"It's not," she mumbled, stroking her hair, planting random kisses against the blonde waves under her nose.

"It is," Delphine sighed, pulling up, allowing Cosima to see her red, guilty eyes for the first time.

"It's not!" Cosima pushed, cupping her cheek. "So far we've just been pawns, stuck in this cycle. Unaware that it exists and unable to stop it. But this time it's different. This time, for some reason, we know what's going on. We know how this is supposed to finish, and maybe that knowledge is just what we need to break it!"

Delphine wiped at the bottom of her eyes, cleaning away the tiny bit of mascara that was now watery and gathered at the corners. She took a breath and felt Cosima breathe with her. A single set of lungs.

"And if Cerball — Aldous — is part of this cycle, maybe we need him."

"Maybe," Delphine replied, nodding. "And we were able to meet before our time. Even before I knew you, you changed my life. That makes this life different as well."

"True!" Cosima smiled, her heart warming at the tiny bit of hope growing between them. "And then there's that little girl... When I pulled my hand away from hers, she looked at me like it should have been impossible. I'm telling you — this life is different. We have power this time! Destiny doesn't always control us." Electric excitement crackled down her spine and up through her hands, still cupped and thumb caressing against the blonde's cheek. "Don't you see? She's never intervened before. She's never had to! Against all odds, we found each other way before we were supposed to."

"In a way, we have already broken the cycle." Delphine managed a smile, eyebrows lifting just before they fell again. "But we have had lifetimes of chances to change this before. Each time we were still separated. Or killed."

"Delphine, look at me," Cosima requested, tipping up her soulmate's chin with one hand, linking fingers with the other. "We will not let that happen again."

With a squeeze of their linked hands, the fluorescent lights above them flickered and the carriage that had been stagnant and stuck for so long began to drop.

"Here we go again."

Delphine's hair flew up as the cabin increased its speed, plummeting towards what must have been the the molten center of the earth. The temperature shot up every second, sweat collecting at their temples and the backs of their necks. "Do not forget who we really are this time," Delphine yelled over the whirring noise of the walls and tightened her grip on Cosima's shoulders. "It's you and me. Right here. This is the life we can change."

"Whatever we're about to see is just... information. We can't let ourselves get sucked in like before," Cosima agreed, nearly screaming now.

"I'm here with you. Things will become hopeless like before, but I am here."

A loud ticking sound was heard above the frantic screeches of shooting down a metal shaft much too quickly, drawing their attention to the flickering red numbers, drawing closer and closer to zero.

00:28:54

00:28:53

00:28:52

00:28:51

The floor cracked as it crashed into the ground, or some other solid surface. They tumbled forward together, slamming into the ground from free-fall momentum, landing in a pile of intertwined limbs.

A sweet, simple ding sounded above their heads as they pushed themselves up onto their knees. The doors parted with an easy swish and a blinding ray of light poured into the otherwise dim room, causing them both to squint and wince.

"Stay with me," Cosima said, and linked their hands, the brightness and the heat already unbearable.