A/N: Thanks for reading everyone! Someone mentioned it was a little too hard to follow along with Keira and Carlos's shifting viewpoints. Hopefully this makes it a little easier!

Carlos

'So long partner. I'm glad you're still here."

He'd sounded like a moron, knew it the minute the words were out of his mouth, but what was he supposed to say? It's been fun? Nice working with you? Hey, by the way, I might have loved you, but now you're gone and we'll never know and your double is you but darker and stranger and so like you but not, and I don't know how I feel about that yet?

Maybe he could have said it to her, if they'd been alone. He could have told her anything, except the one thing he didn't until it was too late. But he couldn't say it in front of Sadler-no sense giving the little shit ammunition he really didn't need. And there was no saying it in front of Dark Keira, as he was coming to think of her. He was still too tangled up for that. So he kept the words inside, and watched as she drifted off into the ether, leaving him behind.

Keira

Keira moaned, opening her eyes to the familiar-yet-unfamiliar sounds of a man rummaging around outside the door of the room. What time was it? Rolling to her side, she came face to face with a smiley face alarm clock that managed to be both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Tipping her head back, she looked around the room. Carlos's guest room. She'd crashed there, a few times, when the night had gotten late and she hadn't been able to bear the thought of being alone.

There was a time when this wouldn't have felt strange to her at all-but that time wasn't this one, was it? she thought dryly. And that Carlos, the Carlos that had made them margaritas and watched bad movies and fallen asleep on the couch with his arm around her certainly wasn't this stranger with suspicion in his eyes where warm, casual affection used to be.

Maybe showing him her dead body had been a mistake, but she couldn't think of anything else to do-and to be honest, she hadn't really tried. She'd done what she always did. She'd run to her partner, her friend, instinctively trusting him to help without taking a moment to consider what seeing her would do. The idea that Carlos would be emotionally invested in her death-she wasn't sure what she thought about that yet. All she knew was that she wanted her friend back.

Groaning, she laid her aching head back on the pillow and breathed in the scent of his laundry detergent as the rest of the day came rushing back to her. The anger when she walked away from the Freelancers. The great, soul-sucking maelstrom of grief as she admitted to herself for the first time what she'd known from the day she landed in 2012. She wasn't going home. No one was going to save her. She was never going to see Greg or Sam again.

The pain stabbed deep, and she curled into the pillow, tears streaming down her cheeks and sobs jerking from her chest as she admitted another truth, one that hadn't occurred to her before now in her blind determination to find her way back to the family she'd left behind. Because of her actions in this timeline, she'd lost the small family she had here as well. Alec, her Alec, who she'd given to the freelancers. This Alec, who knew she'd lied to him and hated her for it. Carlos, who held her at arm's length while he held a special place in his heart for the woman she'd replaced.

She'd lost everything, and had nothing to show for it…not even the knowledge that she'd made the future a better place for the people she'd left behind.

Carlos

He'd heard her, the moment she woke up. Heard the deep, gaping sobs that echoed from the walls of his non-descript apartment. Pushing himself off the couch and away from the show he hadn't really been watching anyway, he walked over to the kitchen and took two mugs out of the cupboard. Reaching into the pantry, he pulled out the container of cocoa he wasn't crazy about but she had loved. He'd bought a box of it when they were in the middle of some case or another, and had kept buying it as she'd kept coming over. He hadn't even thought about it at the time-just one more thing on his shopping list.

Now he wondered if he'd known, even then, that there was something more than that.

Sighing, he tossed in the milk and put the two mugs in the microwave, weighing his options. Did he go to her? Wait for her to come to him? Call out that there was cocoa in the kitchen and go back to what he was doing like he really didn't care anyway, which was basically the attitude he'd been cultivating since this version of her had showed up?

She took the decision out of his hands when she came puttering into the kitchen, sniffling and swiping at her eyes while carefully not meeting his. That shifting part of his heart melted a little further, and without thinking too much about it he passed her the tissue box on the counter.

"Cocoa's coming. You look like shit."