For Her
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A sequel to "My Muse", written by Miss Matched
Dedicated to Starry Nights, for being so encouraging.
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All standard disclaimers apply. Characters from "Hey Arnold" are copyright Craig Barlett and to whomever else they're copyrighted to. Original characters are original, and the author would like sole use of them, unless contacted for permission. All poetry/music in this fanfiction are also original, and once again, may only be used with permission. Thus ends this huge disclaimer.
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AN: Ha! I bet you didn't believe that I was actually gonna post so quickly! Well, I'm trying very, very hard to make this good. Did you know I started this story on January first? I just figured that out today. So, my big aim; have this finished by the end of the year. Think I can do it? :-D
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Chapter Sixteen: Divergence/Picking up the Pieces
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Point of View: Gerald
Time: Future
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I had never gotten used to it. I don't think I ever will, as a matter of fact. We had tested the first time machine for short amounts of time, as to not disrupt the flow of time. We traveled five minutes into the future, and five minutes into the past. It was crazy, even though the trip had lasted only seconds, it had been... unbelievable. At least we could enjoy it then. Now, it wasn't for pleasure, and though it was hard for me to admit, it wasn't even for the advancement of science. Phoebe looked up at me, "Are you ready?"
I smiled weakly, holding her hand, "I was born ready."
Despite herself, Phoebe giggled. I smiled at her, "We can do this, Pheebs. For now, let's just relax."
"You're right." She nodded, "It always is easier to think when one is relaxed." She looked down to make sure that I was still holding her hand, then she flipped the switch on the remote with her other hand. The world around us faltered like bad TV reception, and then melted away, leaving us surrounded in a tunnel of silver and black. I let go of Phoebe's hand now that we had both been transported successfully. Using her free hand, she began to turn the main dial.
"I'm going backwards though now, Gerald. You look over on your side, and I on mine." Phoebe said, commandingly. I smiled, I loved it when she took control. A time travel could easily be compared to an out of body experience. Looking at the side of the tunnel closest to Phoebe, I could see the both of us making the time machine, something we had began twelve hours earlier. In the blink of an eye, seemingly, the scene was gone. I then remembered my job, and turned to face my side of the tunnel. Quickly, I averted my eyes, hot angry tears running down my face. I couldn't let Phoebe know what I saw... I could feel the pent up anger welling within me as I, despite my better judgment, recalled the brief scene. The bloody knife sticking out my beautiful wife's back, and nothing I could do...
"No" I reminded myself silently, "That's why I'm here, now. To right this. We can do this, no turning back. Ever."
I think Phoebe could tell that I had tensed up, as she turned around and gave my hand a squeeze. "I don't know what you saw, but forget it. It never happened." She whispered soothingly. "Just watch, and tell me when what you see on that side is the same as what you remember to be true." I nodded, and squeezed her hand.
I hated myself at that moment, taking orders from her. I didn't hate her, no, not at all, I loved Phoebe, always would, always will. But at that moment, I realized that I wasn't nearly as strong as her. For us to survive this, I might just have to defy her. It wasn't a thought I cherished, not in the least. But she nearly hadn't let me be here with her, for fear of my life. I know her, she loves me so much she would take a bullet for me... or a knife... But that moment, I swore on Fuzzy Slipper's future grave that I would protect her, no matter what. ___________________________________________________
Point of View: Nick
Time: Present
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He had stopped from his pacing abruptly, and opened up his clinched hands. Furrowing his eyebrows and closing his eyes, he concentrated with all his might. A silver remote appeared in his hands.
"Goodbye, for now." He spoke mockingly to his younger self as he turned the dial. His whole body quaked, and then he was gone, leaving me alone on the floor in a heap.
Slowly, I willed myself to get up. I was in control again. I had learned so much, and was so scared...
I knew now who I would grow up to be, a bitter man who blamed his own wrong decisions on the innocent, a man who could condone his own actions if his way was eventually achieved. That wasn't me. I'm not that person. I couldn't be! I mean, how could I hate the guy who helped everyone when they were down? And yet, I had seen it. I had seen myself do the unthinkable. First, isolating Arnold from his friends. Unwillingly, I had watched myself convince Arnold into hanging out more with the team, and blowing off his real friends. And when it seemed that his best friend was going to get in my way, I had taken Phoebe, the only apple of his eye.
It pained me, but I had to come to grips with it. I did this. It didn't matter if it wasn't me now, it was who I was to grow up to be...
I caught wind of a rumor that Arnold and some Helga girl used to be sort of together, bound seemingly together by the strings of destiny. After doing a little research, I found that this Helga's father was looking for a new place for his beeper emporium. What was his name? Bloated Bill? It was something equally stupid, I'm sure. I told my father about their family's hopes and dreams of having a good place for a beeper emporium, and my kind hearted father cut them a good deal on a large amount of land in a very industrial area of New York.
It wasn't something I wanted to do... It was something I would plot years from now. It was almost too odd to comprehend. I had planned and plotted to ruin my friend's lives. I fell back to the floor, crying, even though it wasn't the most manly thing to do.
And there was truly nothing that I could do. But could I try to pick up the pieces now? I picked up the phone, and dialed the only number I'd ever bothered to memorize. The answering machine picked up.
"Phoebe? It's me, Nick." I began, my voice quavering. I hadn't really spoken for months and months, and words felt foreign as I spoke. "I got your message... I love you Phoebe, I might have never been the best at showing it, but I love you. And all I want is for you to be happy." I took a deep breath. "I wish nothing but the best of luck for you and Gerald. And, yeah, I'd like to be your friend. But Gerald gets to be your best friend, okay? Well... I guess I'll see ya. Bye." And with that, I hung up.
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Author's notes: Ha! So for all those Nick haters... Okay, were there any Nick haters? I know someone said that they liked him. Well, I like him too, lol. He's so fun to write for. Well, strangely enough, I think I can do this! *big breath* I can't promise much, but I think there will actually be another chapter up tomorrow. This is the part I've been wanting to write ever since the night that I decided to screw up this entire story and make it Sci Fi! So, um, please keep reading. Or don't. It doesn't matter, I'll still be here, pounding away at my keyboard without a care in the world.
Peace!
Miss Matched
(And remember, if you think the story sucks, R and R! How else do you expect me to improve?)