Thank you everyone for the lovely reviews! I hope you enjoy chapter two. I seem to be in a writing ditch at the moment because I really enjoy writing dialogue and this chapter didn't really call for it, but hey ho there's always future chapters! I'd love to see if you guys can guess what's going to happen next, or even any suggestions for the progression of the narrative so please review and tell me what you think. Thank you! xxx

Previously:

"Ms Naylor," he purred, "I thought you were on Keller today?"

"What year is it?" This seemed to stop him in his tracks.

"Ms Naylor, if you are intox-"

"Humour me."

Lord Byrne could never deny such a beautiful young lady of a- what, a practical joke? "This, Ms Naylor, is the year of our lord 2006."

2006?! Her mind whirred in defiance. She shook her fiery hair behind her shoulders, scrunched her eyebrows. There was quite a substantial delay before her mouth agreed to close.

This must have been some messed-up dream.

She was no longer level-headed, she couldn't possibly be. Her thoughts ran from her in a game of tedious cat and mouse. There was only one that niggled, snubbed the deadly panic. She clawed and clawed at it - frantic, urgent.

The posters glared, she could feel them on her. The outside sirens wailed with a proverbial anthem like sombre bassoons.

There was something about today, something that scared her.

It wasn't just this, whatever this was, it was dark, terrible, and buried while she was sunk too deep into alarm to resurface.

Around her were what only could be described as ghosts - faces she had once known, people that had moved on with their lives. She seemed to be in a bubble where everything converged, outside of which doctors, nurses, porters laboured in slow-motion.

And then the headache throbbed at the recess of where spine met skull. Jac cursed for the thousandth time, tightening her frown. Her hands dived for her drugs but found nothing.

That's right, Joseph had-

"Shit." Oh shitting hell.

Time re-coiled, snapped and hastened.

She'd practically handed him a whole bloody party pack! And that meant-

Her feet electrified, her muscles twitched, and she jolted towards the locker-room, breath heavy in the air. She left a rather bemused Lord Byrne behind. Her pounding heart drowned out any protest he may have had.

Her skid nearly threw her into the door. She squinted through the dim window and there he was, needle primed. She could not follow her heart as it leapt into the room. He spiked his skin despite fumbling hands; her pupils dilated.

Joseph was about to kill himself all over again. He had her Fentanyl.

Had she caused it? Was she always meant to-

One wretched compression between his fingers and the rich, liquefied mess drained into his vein. He slumped.

She had done that to him.

Stricken, at last the adrenaline was enough to shake Jac from her stupor. A twist and she was scanning the crowd, drone-like, for help. She ran a few paces, hoping to attract some attention. Her reflexes were off-kilter. She had stationed herself behind the nurses' desk before the penny dropped with a nasty clatter.

She didn't need to help. She needed only to wait. Still, if she was wrong about this, Joseph Byrne, her Joseph Byrne, would be lifeless in mere minutes. But, this was 2006, right?

It had to be, for his sake.

And then her eyes found particular interest in the far corridor. A few agonising moments stumbled past.

Jac Naylor veered around the edge, stormy in expression. Her younger self had the prowl of a feline, though propelled forward by masculine trainers. She was naive, held herself too confidently, shoulders up, head high. At least she had left her stupid floral favourites for another day.

And then there were two! It was beyond peculiar. Jac could imagine the corny, carnal filth Maconie, or even Spence, would conjure up if they were there to see the spectacle.

It dawned on her then that, however ridiculous it seemed, she had truthfully... travelled in time? It even sounded ludicrous as a thought.

Soon the younger doctor would have to look towards the ward, towards Jac.

Transfixed though she was, her lone chance of a quick getaway was to hide. The older consultant swiped a last glance, before a flick of golden hair turned her way, and she ducked. Ducked for her sanity, marvelling at the irony of that action. She rooted herself to the floor, glowing red as raised eyebrows were arched her way.

And then a click as the locker room door swung on its hinges, and a crash as it slammed. The sound of safety.

This was real. Her younger version would soon discover Joseph, soon save his life, soon turn him in for a few measly brownie points. Undo what she had yet to do? It made a warped web of sense.

A car crash if ever she saw one. Her head spun for a second. It took tremendous effort to collect herself.

She slid her hands to the wood, assiduously hauled her legs erect. But then as everything once again swam into complete view, she stiffened, felt the air turn hot, the taut hairs on the groove of her neck. It must have been for a perpetuity where she could only gawp.

"No," she heard herself mutter, if only to fill the lengthy silence.

Lola Griffin had a way with surgeons, but she considered this off the scale. She made a show of waving a hand to and fro, trying to catch the redhead out.

"You need to keep an eye on your stent trial." Lola's demands were almost slapped from her, if only Jac had been in a state less than a human popsicle.

Lola nudged her sights back to Keller, back to the danger in the bed. "Handle with care, that's all I'm saying."

Darwin was gone. Lola was here. The man, disadvantaged by his sling, was the only entity focused in Jac's trance.

TO BE CONTINUED