A/N: This chapter is the beginning of something I knew was going to happen from very early on in the story. It is going to be disturbing.
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Unfortunately, my attorney was unavailable. He wasn't at home, or at his office, or on-line. His cell phone was busy, so I left a message. I was suddenly very tired.
"I'm sure there are any number of wedding-related issues that people want to bring to my attention, but the way I feel right now, I just want to tell them to use their best judgment or talk to me tomorrow." I looked at Victor.
"Then do so. They wait upon you, not the other way around." he said. "I will see you at supper."
"Yes…" Except that I did not. I went back to my suite, lay down, and fell asleep.
I woke when my shoulder was shaken. "Wha…?" I asked, sleep-befuddled.
"Get up." It was Victor.
"Is it dinner time?" I took off my sleep mask.
"It is some hours past it." he replied.
"Oh. No one woke me." I sat up and slid my feet into my sandals.
"It does not matter. Come." He turned and walked toward the door, not looking to see if I was following or not.
Something seemed…off.
I scrambled off the day bed and hurried to catch up. "Where are we going?"
"Pennsylvania. To your grandmother's attic." was his cool reply, tossed over his shoulder.
"But—?" I followed him down the stairs.
"As you pointed out, I do have a time machine on the premises. It also operates over physical distances. We shall go back to the hour that you hid your proofs, wait for you to leave, and then go in after them. I recall that you said you chose a time when you knew your mother would not be there."
"Yes, but—the Watcher said they were still there." I had caught up with him, and matched him stride for stride.
"We will not remove them physically. A digital camera and a scanner will suffice to capture their content without disturbing the space-time continuum." We were descending to the level where the time machine was kept.
"Victor—what's wrong? You seem so—distant." I asked.
"Wrong?" he echoed me. "Nothing—or everything. I do not know which. But I will learn it before the morning comes."
"What happened?" I asked, quickening my pace. He was moving much faster than normal.
"While you napped, I received a most extraordinary communication. It was from Rhonda Mckenna—with the assistance of Malice. Malice sought to take control of Ms. Mckenna as she did you—with much the same result. The controller is become the controlled. Malice learned how to contact me from your mind. You three have much in common—strong wills, the ability to turn a situation to your advantage—and a propensity to manipulate and use others."
"Victor!" He had said it with such bitterness. We rounded a corner, and Victor waved the guard-bots aside. I wanted to throw up. She had done it. She had found a way to ruin my happiness. I always knew she would.
"I overlooked it. Even when I witnessed how you turned the impostor's head, how you so easily—and eagerly—swayed the emotions and impulses of his family—I did not ask myself whether you might not be doing to me what you did to them."
I felt as if my bones had turned to jelly. He knew. He knew.
"But perhaps I am being unfair. Perhaps she lies, and you have not been making a game of me—Perhaps what is in your grandmother's attic is not what she says it is." We were in the chamber with the time machine.
"No—Victor, let's talk about this first." I tried.
"No." He looked at me with eyes harder than the stone of the walls. "What was the date and time? I know you know it, with that memory of yours."
"Victor—please!" I stopped, and stayed where I was. "What did she tell you?"
"What you should have told me. I had wondered how I escaped the time-distortion. I meant to discuss it with you. You ought to have told me I had not."
"There hasn't been time!" I pleaded.
"There will be time enough now! You may have the rest of your life to tell me—and that may not be very long, if I do not like what I hear." He had been adjusting the settings on the time machine. Now he turned. Covering the floor with three long strides, he seized me by the hair. "Now. The date and time."
"February—19th. 2003. About 4 PM." I forced it out. He wasn't hurting me—yet. He walked back to the controls, forcing me to keep up with him or have him drag me.
"Victor—whatever she said—." I was growing desperate.
"She read some notes to me. Notes you made, and hid away with your proofs. 'I believe the key to changing the world lies in changing the Fantastic Four. It was their inception which made this world what it is—they are the foundations of the universe. I cannot influence them directly, so I must do so through a proxy, and obliquely. If I am right, any super villain would do--if handled correctly. But by far the best would be Doctor Doom—who is locked permanently into a losing battle with Reed Richards, and cannot see it. He is the most pathetic of them all.' Pathetic, am I?", he snarled, and flung me onto the platform.
"Victor—that was out of context!" I had written that over three years before. I had been so young, so callow, so naive. So stupid.
"Shut up. I warn you—I can be pushed too far. Now—." He pushed a button on the time machine's remote, and the world swirled around us.
TBC….