Author's note: Slow burn all, slow...slow burn ;) Reviews are appreciated! Enjoy.
oOoOo
The German jets are a pinnacle achievement of Reich engineering, but they do make every flight just a little too short. John feels barely settled with his thoughts when they prepare to land. It will be about a 45 minute drive to the location of the singularity, which will give him plenty of time to get up to speed and strategize counter efforts against the Resistance.
"I hope you enjoyed your flight." The young attendant is beautiful, blue eyed and perfectly blond. John knows the government only hires picture perfect women of Aryan glory for their aircrafts. He feels a small desire within himself but snuffs it out. He has no time for such pleasures, and despite her running away with his girls, he is still married and intends to remain faithful to Helen until they sort this mess out.
"It was perfect, thank you." His chilly response is respectful but nothing more. He grabs his briefcase and descends to the car.
"Reichsmarschall!" The driver and his assistant here, Sturmbannführer Walter, both heil.
John acknowledges quickly and gets in the car.
"Report?" Smith says simply, leveling a shrewd stare at Walter..
"There has been no attempt to break in and rescue Hawthorne, sir. It seems capturing the group of rebels dissuaded them, but..." Walter pauses a moment and shifts in his seat.
"But?" Smith's tone becomes callously insistent. He also thinks Walter should know better than to act so nervous in his presence or he will not make it any further in the Reich.
"There is a film spreading, sir. We've apprehended a few dozen already." The Sturmbannführer tries to keep his voice even and confident.
"And what exactly is on this film?" John cocks his head sideways, his glare acts as a warning-he is not to be displeased.
"It is a propaganda film by the Resistance, sir. It shows the Reich falling and the Allies winning the war." Walter remains unapologetic as he tries to plainly relay the facts.
"You've seen the film?" Smith's menacing gaze is cold and hard as steel.
"Sir, it was playing at a theater when we made the arrests in town. We, me and a few of my men, saw part of the film." As the Reichsmarschall's eyes bore into him, he adds the simpler answer: "Yes, sir."
"It's alright, Walter." John's tight lips lack the reassurance he means to convey as he rubs his temple.
"There is more, sir." Walter forces himself to continue despite the darkening of John's expression. "There has been more graffiti and posters put up… not only by Resistance operatives. Many of them are put up by teenagers and normal citizens."
The Reichsmarschall's eyes narrow as he glances out the window. They have left the last town on the road and are beginning to wind through the mountains. They pass a few log cabins, but it is mostly barren forest. He takes a deep breath and lets out a sigh.
"There is nothing normal about these people." His eyes flash at the younger man. "They may not be Resistance, but they are traitors. As such, they should be rounded up. Interrogated. And executed."
The young man gave a sharp nod. "Yes, sir."
"Good." He searches out Walter's expression. "Now, is that all, Walter?"
"Almost, Reichsmarschall. Tests have continued on schedule with… varying success." Walter pauses, but John stays silent waiting for him to finish. "In most of the trials, every participant is unsuccessful. On some occasions, one may make it through."
Smith's tone is steady. "This is nothing new, Walter."
"We have noticed sir, that it seems the older participants or those who are defective due to genetics tend to make it through more frequently. Nothing statistically relevant yet, according to the analysts, but they are tracking the observation." Walter exhales, finally done reporting. He had heard the Reichsmarschall is an intensely intimidating man. He decides that he will be better prepared for these interactions in the future.
"An interesting observation, Sturmbannführer. Truly." Smith gives his inferior the slimmest of grins before looking out the window again.
He realizes Abe was probably telling the truth then: a person can only travel to a world where they are deceased or do not exist at all. It would seem that as long as he keeps killing Resistance operatives, he is unintentionally creating spaces for them to return. Of course, there is no way to know that people from the other worlds would even join the Resistance here. He will need to ponder their options further.
A Reich that doesn't defend itself by killing traitors is no Reich at all.
oOoOo
"I'm not sure these will fit, but hopefully it's comfortable enough." John hands her a pair of his sweat pants and a Beatles t-shirt.
"Thank you again, John." Juliana unconsciously bows her head a little. Some habits die hard.
"Good night, Miss Mills." He offers a final smile before turning to put out the lights.
"You can call me Julia, you know. I'm also not in the classroom." She looks over at him, with a coy smirk.
He offers a light chuckle at that. "Sleep well, Julia."
"You too, John." She gives a small smile before closing the door to his office.
As she hops over to the twin bed against the wall, she wonders how others are faring back home. She feels guilty getting to leave, to trade that place for this domesticity and safety. She knows she has a lot to do, but she wants to enjoy the process. She could have died in the other place afterall.
oOoOo
Reichsmarschall Smith glances down the hallway at the cell that was once holding Juliana Crain. He clenches his jaw knowing he should have killed her ages ago when he had the chance. First, she was a nuisance and a distraction to Joe Blake's mission of collecting the films. Then, she was a tool to gather intelligence about the dwindling Resistance in the Reich. Somehow in a matter of months, she had turned from the Resistance's main traitorous target to some semblance of a leader of the cause. He almost admires this transformation save for her continuous threat to his own standing in the Reich.
Dr. Josef Mengele greets him with a heil. The doctor seems a little more formal in his treatment of him since Smith's rank could rise at the death of the Fuhrer.
Smith walks by, giving approval and looking down the center of the machine.
"Reichsmarschall, welcome back." Dr. Mengele adds, following behind him.
"Thank you, Dr. Mengele." His stare intensifies as if he can will himself to see into another world. "Tell me, Doctor, how do you designate which world you will attempt to travel to?"
"Ah, yes, great question Reichsmarschall." Dr. Mengele's self-confidence is conspicuous as he replies with the madness of an inventor, gesturing with his hands to accompany his explanation.
"We attune based on the singularity, you see. Like the stars appear in different places depending on the movement of the globe, so also our ability to hone on far off worlds changes. We are tracking the pattern, although currently it is somewhat chaotic, rest assured, our greatest mathematicians are working on this issue!"
Smith is annoyed by his zeal, particularly because no one here seems to take Hawthorne's warning very seriously. They will send thousands to their deaths only to discover it does not work as they had imagined. He reminds himself the subjects are dead already, this is just their form of capital punishment. Still, he knows now that it is likely that so much death has made way for so many openings in their world. What if these Resistance operatives are able to bring more than just films back? What else could be coming?
The Reichsmarschall has a wonderfully awful idea.
oOoOo
Juliana's dreams are fraught with other memories of other worlds. In one, she sees Joe as an executioner shooting Frank and then her. In another, she sees an older Frank dressed as a rabbi, teaching. She sees Tagomi in his home from her world kiss a woman she does not know after playing a game of renju. In her last dream, she is about to be shot by the Reichsmarschall, only he turns into John and hands her a sunflower instead.
She slowly opens her eyes, remembering where she is in her bed in John's extra room. She enjoys the last dream, picturing this John Smith giving her flowers. Her heart flutters a moment before she calms herself.
Suddenly, the door bursts open and Reichsmarschall stands in all his splendor of Nazi regalia.
"You thought you'd get away from me so easily, Miss Crain?" His eyes dance at having caught up to his prey.
"How did you…?" Her heart races, dismayed and very much afraid.
His lips turn up at the edges as he looks down at her. His boots click along the wood floor with purposeful steps.
"You'll never know." He bares his teeth as he grabs her neck in his hands, squeezing so tightly she knows this is the end.
Juliana wakes with cry and silences the alarm beside the bed. Her hands instinctively go up as she rubs over her neck slowly. The dreams all felt so real. She lays in bed a few minutes to collect her thoughts, knowing that some of what she saw could be potential worlds or even glimpses into her own world. She attempts to ground herself in her present world, to meditate as she learned from Tagomi, Hawthorne, and Trudy. She begins to feel peace and she holds onto it as one might a rope dangling over the edge of a cliff. She senses her connection to her world, a wanderer finding the path back home. She stays away from the path, but wonders a moment if it is safe. Hawthorne had assured her that the Nazis would find it particularly challenging to travel between worlds without aide. He said their ideologies of superiority were not compatible with the collective consciousness required for such travels-they could never be one with the cosmos when they despised so much of humanity.
There is an unassuming knock on the door. "Juliana, I'm sorry to disturb you. Um, I made a call into my office and there might be a position available. If you can be ready in thirty minutes, I can drive you over with me this morning to meet the principal."
"Alright," She calls back, "And thank you John."
John is happy to hear her voice, leaning against the wall beside the door in his pajama pants and grey t-shirt, and he wants to tell her as much. But then he reminds himself that she is a poor woman who has been through hell and that he is only being generous as he would hope others would treat him in similar circumstances-she owes him nothing.
"There is toast and cereal in the kitchen. I'll be upstairs getting ready." He yells as he walks back to his room.
"Okay. I'll be out soon if you need to get in here." She responds loudly, sitting on the edge of the bed in John's sweats and Beatles shirt.
The clothing feel as comfortable as this world does. She looks over at his desk with novels piled high and papers a mess. She did not want to snoop, but unlike her world, she knew here it would merely be rude and not necessarily lead to a hostile conversation. Despite herself, she walks over and thumbs through the papers. She knows she shouldn't be surprised by what she sees, as this is not the Reichsmarschall. But she cannot hold in her delight when she discovers pages of a novel in the works. Feeling her stomach grumble, she does not read very far, only enough to know that it begins with a man at war and she makes a mental note to ask him about it another time when they know each other better.
She only has the one outfit, the same thing she has on when shot, although Nurse Eliza had kindly her a new blouse to replace the one with blood on it.
"Good morning Thomas." She emerges from the office to see him sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal. She picks up the box to see a bright orange tiger with a red handkerchief.
"Good morning, Julia." He says, finishing a bite. "Need me to get you a bowl?"
"That would be very helpful, thanks." She hobbles to the closest chair. Thomas brings her a bowl, spoon, and the milk.
"I heard you're coming to school with us today." Thomas' boyhood interest was evident, but Juliana doesn't blush.
"I am. Your father thinks they might have need for a secretary."
"Oh, they certainly do Miss Mills." John descends the stairs. Juliana is not yet used to seeing him in casual clothes, and notes the leather boots tucked under his dark jeans, white button up shirt and corduroy jacket with a little fur collar.
"Julia," he adds upon seeing her quizzical expression.
"Thank you again, truly. You two are very kind to take me in. Hopefully, I can find a room to rent nearby, provided I get the job."
"Why not stay here?" Thomas asks feigning ignorance.
"Now, Tom. It really isn't appropriate for Julia to stay here very long. You know that." John's fatherly tone is not too different from the Reichsmarschall's, and Juliana feels a chill down her spine. He isn't harsh, but the similarity to the dinners she spent with his family in their world is unnerving.
Thomas' enthusiasm deflates and he finishes his cereal quietly.
"I'll ask around." John adds, pouring himself a bowl. When he is done, he takes their dishes to the sink and begins to wash. "I forgot, but I think we may have some crutches in the garage. Tom sprained his ankle a couple years ago playing soccer. I'll see if I can find them for you."
"Showing up to a job interview in crutches would be a first." She smirked.
"Nonsense. Besides, I already mentioned you had been injured. Fortunately, a secretary is primarily sedentary so you could start whenever they hire you." He glances over his shoulder offering a reassuring smile.
"If they hire me." She corrects.
The ride to the school is pleasant enough. Thomas yields his front seat, a little irritated his dad isn't letting him practice driving. They share more information about the school to help Juliana prepare for the interview. She tries to stay focused. If she can ingratiate herself at the school quickly, her plan will go off without a hitch. If not, she may have to show her hand sooner rather than later.
Once they park, John points out the office. "Good luck." He and Thomas say in unison.
Thomas heads off to the gym to get in a work out before class, his routine since they always have to get there horrendously early. John hangs back a moment and walks with Julia.
"You can take a bus home, it's the 17 and picks up on the corner over there." He gestures, and gulps hoping she doesn't notice his anxious tone. "You're also welcome, if you want to of course, to sit in my classroom until the school day is over. I can work from home after instead of staying late on campus."
He catches her eyes and finds a twinkle that thrills him. She replies, "That would be wonderful. I'll sneak in between periods after I'm done."
He nods and mutters "break a leg" a little too quietly, as if he thinks it might be inappropriately soon to joke about her injury. She giggles to herself nonetheless.
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Author Confession: I may or may not have been inspired by John's outfit from R.F. in front of his alt-reality car on instagram.