Author's Note: Contains references to the missing scene at the end of Time Squared that I covered in my post-ep fic, 'Closure', which also has additional insights into Jesse's thoughts and feelings that I didn't want to repeat here.
****
WEDNESDAY
Well, that was... different. I don't know that I have the words to describe what happened yesterday, though I guess with all the stuff I've seen since I got into Mutant X the idea of time travel shouldn't throw me too much. Just never really thought I'd be doing it!
All that talk in the sci-fi shows about not messing with history, changing the timeline – the Temporal Prime Directive, as they'd call it on Star Trek? Well, I've seen first hand what can happen to the now when the past gets altered and, believe me, it's far more devastating than just suddenly finding yourself in a whole new ballgame with no memory of how things were before.
Maybe it wouldn't have been the same for people further away from the event's epicentre, but when Adam died back there in 1978 the effect on everything he'd created was immediate and catastrophic. And terrifying, because I knew what it had to mean and the thought of how close we came still scares me witless. So much so that I'm not sure I want to think about it any more, let alone write about it here.
Suffice to say we fixed it. Just. Or maybe that should be *I* fixed it. With Diana's help, of course, however unwillingly given. But as she started it by sending Ashlocke back in search of a pre-emptive cure for whatever it is that's killing him, it was only fitting she should be instrumental in finishing it. For now.
I helped, though – start it, I mean. Even though I got my wish and was right there when he made his move, I let him get away. Let him elude me long enough to reach her, let him use my indecisiveness – my lack of what it takes to make the tough decisions, as Brennan would no doubt tell me if he'd been there – to leave me floundering in his wake. And by the time I got to the hospital she'd been hiding out in, it was all much too late. Too late for me to do anything more than admit to Adam that I'd failed, that I'd not only lost Ashlocke but Brennan and Shalimar as well.
I hated that.
And Diana's sniping didn't help matters much, either. She wouldn't give me anything I could use to get some points on the board with Adam before I got her back to Sanctuary, which left me in that familiar role as spectator while he and Emma got to work on her, took what she told them and made their own decisions on what to do about it, without asking for or needing my input or advice.
I bet Emma didn't give any thought to what it might take to make everything right in the end when she jumped in there after Adam, and abandoned me to worry about them all somewhere back there in the past.
And I'll bet she didn't get chewed out for disobeying his orders to stay in Sanctuary. Seems like I'm the only one he considers irresponsible enough to be in need of that kind of discipline...
Em's got some weird idea that she remembers stuff about Adam being dead. I've tried explaining to her that she never actually experienced it. That when I got Diana to take me back to right before it happened, so I could stop it, make things right again, she and Brennan and Shal weren't the same people who knew he'd died, who'd done all that stuff she thinks she did with Ashlocke afterwards – because as far as they were concerned that event had yet to take place. And in the end, never did. But I guess sci-fi shows weren't her thing because the whole temporal physics part of it went right over her head.
Adam understands, though. He and I had a chance to talk a bit when we took Diana off to a safe house so Ashlocke couldn't get to her again. Nothing deep and meaningful – even when it's just the two of us we never seem to do that these days. I know he means well, but I can't help finding myself reading between the lines of what he says, looking for the patronising, the subtle and not so subtle criticism and direction, all the tiny indications that he doesn't see me as grown up enough to make my own decisions without his help, and ready to stand by the consequences of them.
Like I did today.
Lucky for him, really, that I am. That I did.
Lucky for all of us, I guess.
He did say thank you, though. He didn't need to, not really – I was just doing my job, and letting him die just so wasn't an option. But I have to admit it felt good to hear him say it...
Ashlocke's still out there hiding like some wounded animal. And I have a feeling the next time we meet up we might not be so lucky.
*
****
WEDNESDAY
Well, that was... different. I don't know that I have the words to describe what happened yesterday, though I guess with all the stuff I've seen since I got into Mutant X the idea of time travel shouldn't throw me too much. Just never really thought I'd be doing it!
All that talk in the sci-fi shows about not messing with history, changing the timeline – the Temporal Prime Directive, as they'd call it on Star Trek? Well, I've seen first hand what can happen to the now when the past gets altered and, believe me, it's far more devastating than just suddenly finding yourself in a whole new ballgame with no memory of how things were before.
Maybe it wouldn't have been the same for people further away from the event's epicentre, but when Adam died back there in 1978 the effect on everything he'd created was immediate and catastrophic. And terrifying, because I knew what it had to mean and the thought of how close we came still scares me witless. So much so that I'm not sure I want to think about it any more, let alone write about it here.
Suffice to say we fixed it. Just. Or maybe that should be *I* fixed it. With Diana's help, of course, however unwillingly given. But as she started it by sending Ashlocke back in search of a pre-emptive cure for whatever it is that's killing him, it was only fitting she should be instrumental in finishing it. For now.
I helped, though – start it, I mean. Even though I got my wish and was right there when he made his move, I let him get away. Let him elude me long enough to reach her, let him use my indecisiveness – my lack of what it takes to make the tough decisions, as Brennan would no doubt tell me if he'd been there – to leave me floundering in his wake. And by the time I got to the hospital she'd been hiding out in, it was all much too late. Too late for me to do anything more than admit to Adam that I'd failed, that I'd not only lost Ashlocke but Brennan and Shalimar as well.
I hated that.
And Diana's sniping didn't help matters much, either. She wouldn't give me anything I could use to get some points on the board with Adam before I got her back to Sanctuary, which left me in that familiar role as spectator while he and Emma got to work on her, took what she told them and made their own decisions on what to do about it, without asking for or needing my input or advice.
I bet Emma didn't give any thought to what it might take to make everything right in the end when she jumped in there after Adam, and abandoned me to worry about them all somewhere back there in the past.
And I'll bet she didn't get chewed out for disobeying his orders to stay in Sanctuary. Seems like I'm the only one he considers irresponsible enough to be in need of that kind of discipline...
Em's got some weird idea that she remembers stuff about Adam being dead. I've tried explaining to her that she never actually experienced it. That when I got Diana to take me back to right before it happened, so I could stop it, make things right again, she and Brennan and Shal weren't the same people who knew he'd died, who'd done all that stuff she thinks she did with Ashlocke afterwards – because as far as they were concerned that event had yet to take place. And in the end, never did. But I guess sci-fi shows weren't her thing because the whole temporal physics part of it went right over her head.
Adam understands, though. He and I had a chance to talk a bit when we took Diana off to a safe house so Ashlocke couldn't get to her again. Nothing deep and meaningful – even when it's just the two of us we never seem to do that these days. I know he means well, but I can't help finding myself reading between the lines of what he says, looking for the patronising, the subtle and not so subtle criticism and direction, all the tiny indications that he doesn't see me as grown up enough to make my own decisions without his help, and ready to stand by the consequences of them.
Like I did today.
Lucky for him, really, that I am. That I did.
Lucky for all of us, I guess.
He did say thank you, though. He didn't need to, not really – I was just doing my job, and letting him die just so wasn't an option. But I have to admit it felt good to hear him say it...
Ashlocke's still out there hiding like some wounded animal. And I have a feeling the next time we meet up we might not be so lucky.
*