He's back at Neodyne, and Diaz is using Christy as a human shield as he shoots at them. She's trying to put on a brave face, but she looks so young and scared and she's shaking in Diaz's grip.

He and Robert stand back to back (don't trust him don't turn your back to him), firing at enemy reinforcements and trying to land a shot on Diaz without hurting Christy (Robert's going to kill her can't you see that).

Abruptly, Diaz pulls Christy upright and suddenly Keith knows what he is about to do. Even as he shoves Christy off the edge of the platform, Keith is already sprinting towards her.

But something's wrong, he can feel it. There's a rush of motion behind him…

Christy's scream echoes up the shaft, but Keith's back is to her as he turns sharply, grabbing hold of the knife Robert's holding in his hands before the other man can plunge it into his back.

His hands are slick with blood, sliced open from grabbing hold of the blade, but he struggles with it as Robert snarls and sneers at him, fighting with him for control of the knife.

With a burst of desperate strength, he wrenches the knife from Robert's grasp and plunges it into the other man's chest. Once, twice, three times…

Robert lies dead before him, eyes wide in shock. Christy is dead, but she was already dead anyway and he's defeated Robert, he's WON…

…No, wait.

No, this is wrong… This isn't what happened!

Keith snaps out of his trance, dropping the knife with a clattering crash.

All he can see is his hands, covered in not his own blood but Robert's, and Christy's too, and he realises there was never a knife in the first place.

Diaz is gone and he was never here either; it was just him and his own two hands all along.

Robert is dead and Christy is dead and he killed them both for no reason.

No, this is wrong, this never happened…!

"Why do you continue to fight the truth?" A bitter, condescending voice speaks up from out of nowhere, startling him out of his panic and guilt.

"Who's there?" Keith shouts, turning to look.

He's in an empty white void now, and Robert and Christy are nowhere to be seen. The only other person in this place is…

"No… It can't be! How?" Keith stumbles backwards a step.

He's looking at himself.

His older self, as he had been before travelling back in time.

Heavily scarred, with a prosthetic left arm and an eyepatch over his left eye. His face is harshly lined, and he looks far older than he should be. He's wearing combat gear, carrying his katana and shurikens, and his entire being seems to radiate rage and bitterness.

"Who are you?" Keith asks.

"You know who I am," his other self says, crossing his arms. "I'm you. I'm the part of you that knows the truth: That Robert, and the other agents… the VSSE, even… none of them can be trusted. You know what they did to us. Given the chance, they'll do it again."

"No, that's… You're wrong!" Keith insists. "They haven't… nothing's going to happen this time!"

"How can you be sure? They're the same people at heart. Just because it hasn't happened in this timeline doesn't mean they won't do it. You know now that they're capable of it. Who's to say that circumstances won't arise to make it happen again?"

"Why are you here? Why are you telling me this?"

"I told you already: I'm you. I'm a part of you. You can't get rid of me any more than I could get rid of you. You may have control of our body, but I'll always be there, at the back of your mind, watching out for us and making sure you don't destroy us a second time."

Suddenly, his other self is standing right in front of him, looming over him, one hand on the hilt of his katana…

"And if you mess up, I'll just have to step in and take over."

He draws the blade in one swift motion, swinging it at Keith in a smooth arc…

"No!" Keith bolted upright, hands thrown up in front of his face to shield himself from an attack.

"Keith?" A sleepy, confused voice from beside him snapped him back to reality.

He was safe in his and Christy's apartment, sitting upright in bed, cold sweat dripping down his neck.

Christy was lying beside him, rubbing her eyes as she turned to face him.

"Are you alright?" She asked quietly, looking at him with concern.

"I…" He wanted to tell her that he was fine, but the words stuck in his throat. His whole body was shaking, and he could feel his heart pounding way too fast.

Christy pushed herself into a sitting position, turning on the lamp on her bedside table.

"Hey. What's wrong?" She asked, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle, comforting embrace.

Keith just shook his head, unable to speak. He knew she could feel him trembling as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her as though she was his only connection to reality.

A few tears leaked out and he hastily wiped them away, hoping Christy hadn't noticed.

He could see from her expression that she had, but she was gracious enough to pretend she hadn't, letting him keep hold of a small shred of his dignity.

"This is the second night in a row you've had a nightmare," she said. "Did something happen?"

"I don't know… I don't know, Christy." His voice cracked, and he could feel another wave of tears coming on. "I'm just… I'm not feeling very well."

She huffed a quiet laugh. "That's an understatement. Maybe you should go to the infirmary? Dr Fraiser might be able to figure out what's wrong. At the very least, she might have something that will help you sleep better."

"I don't know… Maybe you're right."

Keith wasn't too keen on the idea, especially since he had no intention of telling Dr Fraiser the real reason he was having these nightmares, but he had to admit that Christy had a point.

After all, it wouldn't be fair to Christy to be constantly woken by him shouting in his sleep at night; at least one of them should be able to get a proper night's sleep.

"Do you think you can get back to sleep?" Christy asked.

Keith glanced over at his clock. 4.30 am… Hardly an ideal time to be awake, but…

"No, I think… I think I'm gonna take a walk for a while. Try to clear my head. Go back to sleep, Christy. I'm sorry I woke you."

Slipping out of bed, he headed into the bathroom, splashing some water on his face, then exited the apartment.

Without even realising it, Keith found himself walking towards the Crisis Agent Division office.

It was ridiculously early to be going into the office, but it was better than pacing up and down the hallways of the Residential Wing, which ran the risk of waking somebody else.

At least he knew nobody else would be in the office at this hour. Perhaps a quiet place where he could sit and calm himself would help for now.

Taking a seat at his desk, Keith looked at the familiar yet unfamiliar personal belongings on his desk. There was a photo of him and Christy, and the other one with him, Robert and Christy that he had been looking at just yesterday.

Keith picked up the latter photo and studied it. It was strange to see the three of them so much younger, more innocent and carefree. Even Robert was smiling a bit in the photo, despite his usual grumpy demeanour.

Keith looked at his younger self's laughing face, the pure joy in his eyes, and wondered if he could ever look like that again. All he felt was weary and bitter inside; he wasn't sure if he was even capable of laughing anymore.

Suddenly, he felt very tired, like the weight of the past several months had come crashing down onto his shoulders.

Placing the photo back in its spot, he placed his head down on his desk and closed his eyes. Perhaps he could afford to rest for just a few moments…

"I'm here to take you down, old comrade!"

"Robert, you're the traitor!"

"If you had just died, this would have all gone according to plan."

"Keith…"

"To reset the world!"

"Keith!" There were hands shaking him, and his neck felt sore and stiff.

Opening his eyes, Keith found Robert staring at him with a mix of concern and disbelief.

"What on earth are you doing?" He asked. "I came in to get a headstart on my reports and found you fast asleep at your desk."

"What time is it?" Keith sat up, wincing slightly as his aching muscles protested.

"6.30 am. And don't change the subject," Robert said with a scowl. "Why were you sleeping at your desk? I know you have a bed in that apartment of yours."

Bristling at Robert's sarcastic comment, Keith shot him a glare. "I was having trouble sleeping, so I went for a walk. I came here because it's quiet, and I fell asleep. Any other questions?"

Robert frowned, looking at him more closely. "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" Keith asked.

"This is the second day in a row you've had trouble sleeping. And you were mumbling in your sleep just now, like you were having a bad dream or something. Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Keith quickly replied. "Just a rough patch, I guess."

"Are you sure? You looked sick yesterday, and you don't seem any better today. Maybe you should go to the infirmary," Robert suggested.

He's not really concerned; he's just waiting for you to let your guard down before striking.

Keith blinked as the thought popped into his head, as though from out of nowhere. If he thought back, he could almost remember that same voice coming from his dreams…

"Keith?" Robert said again, and Keith realised the other man had been calling his name for a while. "You were spacing out again. Seriously, I'm starting to worry about you."

About what? Me being a liability to you?

With his nerves already frazzled, Robert's words grated on Keith and he felt himself snapping.

"I said I'm fine! Why do you care, anyway? You're incapable of it! Back off and leave me alone!"

For a moment, Robert looked taken aback by Keith's vehement response, a rare flicker of hurt flashing across his face.

Then it vanished, his expression turning cold and disinterested.

"Fine, have it your way. It's none of my business, after all; it's not like I'm actually capable of caring about other people, as you've so aptly pointed out."

The biting sarcasm in his words spoke volumes; while he was trying his best to seem unaffected, Robert was clearly upset by Keith's assertion.

With a pang of guilt, Keith opened his mouth to apologise, but Robert cut him off.

"Just quit sleeping on the job and get back to work. It's a wonder you get any work done at all with how much time you waste slacking off, partner." He spat the last word like a venomous insult, scowling fiercely at Keith.

Before Keith could respond, Robert gathered the pile of documents he'd set down and left the room without a backwards glance.

Whatever guilt had been building within him vanished in an instant, replaced by a sharp surge of anger.

The rational part of him pointed out that he had started the argument in the first place, responding to Robert's gruff but well–meaning concern with an insult that was both hurtful and entirely uncalled for.

However, the rest of him rankled at Robert's contemptuous and almost mocking response. In that moment, Robert had sounded eerily similar to the Robert who had betrayed Keith and laughed about it afterwards.

With memories of his old timeline still playing through his mind and tangling up with the present, his rational side was swiftly overridden by the instinctive hostility and distrust he already felt towards his partner.

You see now, don't you? You can't trust him. He's probably already plotting against you while pretending to be concerned.

Maybe I should ask to be reassigned. I can't do my job if I can't trust him not to stab me in the back when we're out on missions.

And let him have free rein to act against you without being able to watch what he's up to? Don't be an idiot. Play along for now. Sooner or later, he'll slip up and reveal what he's really up to. Until then, never let your guard down around him.

A small part of him whispered that it wasn't rational to be having an argument with himself inside his own mind, that he should talk to someone about this, but it was swiftly buried under the anger coursing through his veins.

Scowling, he picked up the photo with him, Christy and Robert, and shoved it into his desk drawer where he wouldn't have to look at it.

Over the next few months, things didn't exactly improve for Keith. Remembering Christy's advice (and Robert's, though he wouldn't admit it to himself), he paid a visit to the infirmary to see if Dr Fraiser could help.

He'd answered her questions as evasively as he could manage; he couldn't exactly tell her the root cause of his nightmares, after all. Dr Fraiser could obviously tell that he wasn't telling her the full story, but she eventually let the matter drop.

She'd given him some pills that should have helped him to sleep better, warning him sternly to come see her immediately if he experienced any side–effects.

As it turned out, doing so became unnecessary, as the pills failed to work for him at all.

His nightmares continued unabated, filled with images of fighting with Robert, being killed by him, killing him…

He was judged and mocked and shunned every night in his dreams by the other agents. Christy died, over and over and over again. Sometimes, he was the one to kill her.

And always, always, there was that other him lurking in his dreams, reminding him that he couldn't trust anybody but himself; especially not Robert.

He didn't wake up screaming every night, but the effect of his nightmares on the other occupants of the Residential Wing grew to rival that of Giorgio's occasional bouts of night terrors.

The other Crisis Agents became concerned, and began asking if he was alright. He had no answers for them anymore.

"I'm fine" was clearly not going to fool anyone, but he couldn't open up to any of them about what he'd been through (and wouldn't, even if that was an option. Not when he was being reminded every night that he couldn't trust them).

Robert was the only agent who ignored Keith's situation entirely. Since the day Keith had snapped at him, there had been a gaping chasm between them. Robert hadn't spoken a word to him outside of missions, and their performance on missions had worsened considerably on account of their strained partnership.

His relationship with Christy likewise began to suffer. The less restful his sleep became, the moodier and more withdrawn he was in every aspect of his life. There was no joy left in him in any part of his life, not even in Christy's presence, which had once been the brightest part of his existence.

Christy tried to get him to talk, to open up, anything, but he had no words left for her either. How could he tell her what he'd seen? She would think him mad, or worse.

He scarcely noticed that a wall was forming between them again, this time by his own doing. His rage had largely burned out, leaving nothing but fumes and ashes and weary bitterness within him. He had little energy to care, even as he pulled away from Christy more and more with each passing day.

February 2013

It's starting again. They're all beginning to look at me in the hallways and whisper about me. The ex–daredevil adrenaline junkie, now haunting the halls of HQ like a shadow of his former self. I can hear them gossiping about me again. Everyone except for Robert, who won't even look at me. It doesn't matter; I know he doesn't care, as long as I'm not a danger to him.

What do I need with any of them, anyway? They're all so shallow and fickle. They're already beginning to turn on me, but I don't care if they cast me out again; I was never one of them.

Christy is the only light left in my life, and even she's growing colder and more distant from me every day. It should hurt more than it does, but perhaps this is the way it should be too. She grew distant from me before her death the last time around, after all. She can't possibly understand what I've been through this time either.

The weight of everything would be too much for her to bear, and so it's better this way, that she pulls away. As long as she doesn't end up destroyed and dead this time, it's a price worth paying.

11 March 2013

7.45 am

Keith and Christy's Apartment, VSSE Residential Wing

At the sound of someone knocking on the door, Christy looked up from her coffee in surprise.

"Coming!" She called, heading to the apartment door and opening it.

"Robert? What are you doing here?" She asked curiously.

"Is Keith around?" Robert asked quietly, an unreadable expression on his face.

Christy shook her head, a hint of bitterness slipping into her own expression. "He had another one of his episodes last night, so he's probably at the office or down at the training rooms right now."

Not wanting to think about Keith at the moment, she asked, "Would you like to come in?"

"If you don't mind," Robert said with a nod. "I wanted to talk to you without him around."

Stepping back, Christy opened the door wider to let Robert in. "Want some coffee?"

"Yes, please. Black, no sugar."

She let out a small laugh. "After all these years, I think I know fully well how you take your coffee, Robert."

It took merely a few minutes to brew a cup for Robert, which she brought out and set on the coffee table in the living area, along with her own half–drunk coffee.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked.

"It's about Keith… But first, are you alright, Christy?" Robert asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"What do you mean?" Christy blinked at him in surprise.

"You look exhausted, Christy. When's the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

Scrubbing a hand roughly across her face, Christy let out a tired laugh.

She was always tired these days, it seemed. Not just from being woken by Keith's increasingly frequent nightmares, but also from trying to break down the brick wall Keith had erected between them.

The more she tried to push Keith to talk to her, to confide in her, to tell her what was wrong, the more he pulled away and became even colder, moodier and more withdrawn.

"…Here," Robert awkwardly handed her a tissue, and she realised she'd been crying without realising.

"Thank you," she whispered, accepting it and trying to wipe away her tears. "I don't know, Robert… I just don't know what to do. I barely know him anymore. I don't know what's wrong with him, and… I want to help him, but he just keeps pushing me away."

"He used to be so warm… Always laughing and smiling, and just full of life. Now, I don't even recognise him. He's not the same man I fell in love with."

Despite her best efforts, she began crying harder, sobbing into her hands as the weight of the last few months seemed to crash down upon her.

Emotions were definitely not Robert's strong point, and faced with a crying friend, he was even less comfortable than usual. But he did his best to comfort Christy anyway, pulling her into a clumsy, one–armed hug and awkwardly patting her on the back.

"I'm worried about him too," Robert murmured. "You're not alone, Christy, I promise."

Christy took several hiccupping breaths, trying to stem the flow of her tears.

"I'm sorry," she said, when she was finally able to speak. "It's just…"

"You don't have to apologise," Robert assured her gruffly. "Keith's my partner and my friend. Even though we're not on speaking terms right now, I'm still worried about him."

"What exactly happened between the two of you, anyway?" Christy asked, finally pulling away from Robert's embrace. "Keith wouldn't tell me anything, except that the two of you had a spat. But it's been months, and his face still grows black if I bring up your name."

"Honestly? I have no idea," Robert admitted. "He was looking unwell, so I suggested he go to the infirmary to get checked out. Next thing I knew, he turned on me and practically bit my head off."

As he spoke, Christy noticed his expression growing grimmer for a moment.

"What did he say to you?" She asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" Robert was startled.

"I've known you for years, Robert. You and Keith bicker all the time, as easily as a person breathes. Keith must have said something really awful for the two of you to have had such a serious falling–out."

Robert was silent for a long moment.

Just as Christy thought he wasn't going to answer, he quietly said, "He said I was incapable of caring about other people."

His fists clenched involuntarily as he said this.

Almost immediately, Christy felt a hot wave of rage boiling inside her.

Granted, Robert was hardly the most expressive person around, but he had feelings just like anybody else, much as he tried to pretend otherwise. How could Keith say such a cruel thing to his partner?

"He what?!" She shouted. "That's it."

Getting to her feet, she strode purposefully to the apartment door.

"Christy, where are you going?" Robert followed after her, alarmed.

"I'm going to hunt down Keith and kick his ass. Whatever's going on with him, it's gone on for long enough."

Yanking open the door, she came to an abrupt stop as she saw who was standing on the other side.

"Keith?!"

In case you're wondering, yes, the parallels between Robert and Christy's conversation here and their conversation in the previous timeline when Robert poisoned her are deliberate.