Norman, Silver, Purple, Gaby, and any others you don't recognize are mine.
Rated PG-13 : Harsh language; violence; strong sexual references.
Reviews are appreciated, please take a moment to leave one.
The end, or is it? My thanks to Cecelia and Jenny for beta reading, and to all you reviewers for valuable comments and encouragement. I appreciate it. Hope everyone enjoyed.
Eric fiddled with his napkin, picked up his water glass, put it down, looked at the menu again, then clasped his hands on the table and sighed. Checking the time wouldn't help. She wasn't late yet. Even if she was, it could be traffic, could be car trouble, could be anything.
A bell over the door chimed softly. His head jerked up, and there she was, glancing around, spotting him and starting for him with a smile. He got up, and to his own surprise and embarrassment hugged her, just holding her tightly for several moments longer than strictly necessary.
"Wow, what a greeting," Gaby murmured as she slid into the booth across the table from him. "It's only been three days."
"Three days." Eric rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Seems a lot longer."
She leaned forward, concern on her face. "What happened? You didn't say much on the phone, when you said I should come home."
"No." He looked at her, seeing the traces of worry and fatigue. Probably nothing compared to his own face. "How was your drive? Did you find a decent place to stay?"
"My drive was fine. And the hotel was okay." She sighed. "But I'm glad to be back. I'm not cut out to be a fugitive." With a penetrating glance at him she went on, "Something bad happened, didn't it? I didn't hear anything on the news. Are you going to tell me?"
"It hasn't hit the news yet. Not the details." He was silent, trying to organize his thoughts, wondering how to get through this. Then he just started, letting it come out. "When I got back, I found Wes and Jen. Located their morphers..."
Quickly, he told her the story, finding it an unexpected relief to talk about it. Going into that cave, the dark, the silence, until Wes had appeared. Steve joining them, the search through the old tunnels. Seeing Jen with Norman, Silver, and Purple, the chase after them, Jen still apparently trapped in another reality. But then, at the very end, she had seemed to come out of it, to realize where she was and who she was really with. The look of terror on her face, as Norman dragged her away, he could still see it...
Then the explosion, how he, Wes, and Steve had barely escaped with their lives. Afterwards, Wes calling for Jen, crying, his hands bleeding as he tried frantically to dig through the rubble, how he had cursed the two of them when they finally dragged him away. Nothing like the things he had said before, of course... But there was no need to tell her about that part, that he had found out how Wes really felt about him, and how much it still hurt.
They hardly noticed the interruptions as they ordered dinner, were served, and largely ignored their food. Gaby was quiet for a few seconds, watching him, after he stopped talking. "Are you telling me... Is -- is Jen..." she asked at last, her hand reaching out to his.
"The room they were in was destroyed almost completely. Part of the ceiling collapsed, part of the floor did too, fell into another tunnel. No one could have lived through that." He pressed a hand to his chin, looking away from her face, blinking back his own reaction. "We're still clearing the place out. It's slow work, have to avoid any more collapses... Found a lot of damaged machinery. Still working on clearing the area where they were standing when it happened. No sign so far. No remains. Nothing human, no robots either."
"But... does that mean they could have escaped?"
"Probably just means their bodies fell through the floor. It's a mess, collapsed walls, tunnels... They must be buried somewhere where we haven't looked yet."
"Isn't there any way they could have survived?"
"Doesn't look like it," he said with a sigh. "There doesn't seem to be any way they could have gotten out. No secret door, no escape tunnel. We looked."
"You mean Jen's dead?" She looked pale and shocked, her lips starting to tremble, controlling herself with an obvious effort.
"I... We have to face it. It looks that way. Norman too." He looked up at her face.
"I wouldn't be sorry if he's gone... but Jen..."
"Yeah. I feel the same way." He tightened his grip on her fingers, watching her start to cry. "But until we're absolutely sure, I think we have to assume you're still in danger." He paused for a moment, taking a breath. "If you want to stay out of town..."
"Hell, no. You're not getting rid of me that easily. I'm staying. Especially now."
He smiled a little at the determined expression that showed through her tears and took her hand in both of his. "We should keep on taking precautions. Keep you under guard. Sorry."
She nodded, sniffled, wiped her eyes, and went on after a moment. "How's Wes taking it?"
Eric looked down at his plate, feeling that twinge of pain he was starting to get used to. "Not well. About what you'd expect."
So many memories, here. The flower garden, sitting on his familiar stone bench. At first the smell of flowers had reminded him of the wrong things, but now that didn't matter, it had faded into the dull gray that had taken over his heart, only his memories of the past seeming real and alive. It was here that Trip had come to talk to him, to explain why Jen had acted the way she did when they first met. Here that he and Jen had first said they loved each other. Here that he had proposed. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes and let himself drift into a half-waking state, just for a moment he could almost hear her voice on the breeze, feel her presence in some subliminal way.
He had slept in a different bedroom since it happened, unable to bear the ghosts contained in his own room. Their room. Even being out here was hard. But everywhere was hard. Everywhere either reminded him of her, or felt empty without her. But it wasn't so bad, now. The pain had faded into numbness. But he knew it would get worse again, when he'd had time to accept it, when the reality sank in.
"Wes."
It took a few seconds for the voice to penetrate his awareness. He lifted his eyes to see an unexpected face. Eric, come to visit him, even after what he had done. Wes felt a vague and distant gratitude as he smiled and indicated the bench next to him. Eric sat wordlessly, only speaking after a few uncomfortable minutes.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Sure. I'll live."
"I'm sorry." When Wes glanced at him, his face was bent over his hands. "I tried. Couldn't save her."
"Not your fault. And you saved my life."
"I found this today. Thought you should have it." Not looking at Wes's face, he held out an object.
It was oval, a few inches long, set on a wrist strap. Pink... "Jen's morpher," Wes said. "Where did you find it?"
"In another laboratory room, next to the one... the one that blew up. Norman must have taken it off her. Probably to study it."
"Thanks." Wes stared down at it dully. There was silence. He remembered there was something he should ask, something he should care about, if only for politeness. "What happened on your trip? Did you find out who your real father is?"
"Yeah. I found out."
"Who is he? What's he like?"
"Just a guy."
A pause. "Is Gaby back?"
"Yeah. Got here last night."
More silence, until Wes finally said what was on his mind. "I'm sorry. About the things I said. Really sorry."
"I know. Forget it." A quick glance at Wes, his face unrevealing, then Eric stood up. "Well, I'd better get back to work. Just wanted to see how you're doing, and give you the morpher." He turned away.
"Eric..." Wes watched him stop, listen, only his profile visible. "Are we okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... we're still friends, aren't we? Still... still brothers, almost?"
Eric's dark eyes met his briefly, their depths carefully hidden, his face an unreadable mask. "Sure, Wes, we're okay," he said, too quickly and easily, a smile lifting his mouth but not reaching his eyes, disappearing too soon, his voice not quite hiding an echo of regret. "See ya." And turned, and walked away.
He didn't know how long it was after that. Hours, perhaps. Hours he spent just sitting there, among the flowers, staring towards the ocean. Hard to judge the time. Too hard to think, when nothing made sense anymore. Too painful to think. Jen, gone. And Eric gone too, in a different way. What was left?
"Wes?"
He looked up again, seeing his father standing over him, vaguely surprised that he hadn't heard footsteps. "Hi, Dad."
Collins sat on the bench beside him. "How are you feeling?"
Wes shrugged, saying nothing. The two of them were quiet in the evening light, the breeze whispering the leaves around them.
"Maybe I shouldn't tell you this."
"What, Dad?"
"I had a talk with Rick today."
Rick. Rick Quinn, one of the junior Bio-Lab scientists, the one who had analyzed the timehole generator in Jen's ship and managed to build one of his own, accidentally sending them on their last adventure a couple of months ago. Norman had stolen it, studied it, before it had been destroyed.
"Yeah?" Wes asked. "What did he say?"
"I had him examine the wreckage of the machinery we found in the mine. Wanted to find out if Norman had really tried to build another time machine, like he threatened." A smile crossed his face briefly. "Also wanted to know if he came up with anything we could use at Bio-Lab... Anyway..." He hesitated. "Rick said he recognized some of the stuff. Norman was definitely working on something similar to a time machine. A modified design, Rick says he can't tell if it would work differently, or work at all. Not enough left of it."
"And? Is that it?"
Collins sighed. "Wes, the time machinery was standing in the same spot where you and Eric said Jen and Norman were the last time you saw them. Combined with the fact that we still haven't found any trace of them..."
"You think they used it to escape." Wes's voice was flat.
"I don't think Norman's the type to commit suicide. Yes, I think it's a strong possibility." He gave Wes a close look. "You don't seem very impressed."
"I don't..." Wes bit his lip, staring down at his clenched hands. "I guess I'm afraid to hope," he said softly. "Afraid I'm just imagining things. Again."
"Son..." Wes felt a hand drop on his shoulder and squeeze it before his father stood up. "I understand. But don't lose all your hope. Sometimes it's all we have."
Footsteps trailed away, leaving Wes alone again. But not alone. He let go, finally, closing his eyes as tears leaked out. Not alone, after all. Hope was with him.
Voices, and light. They broke through the darkness, awakening her. At first she was empty, no thought, no memory, no identity; just a dull curiosity slowly starting to stir inside her mind. So much confusion, so many questions... She asked the one that drifted to the surface first.
"Who am I?"
A voice answered, giving her a name. It didn't seem right, just for a moment. But she took it, let it sink into her mind, and made it hers.
"Violet. My name is Violet."
To be continued in 'Violet'....
