Ahkmen Ity woke before his alarm clock. He hated when that happened. But at least he'd have extra time at the dig site. He'd spent his entire life around archeological digs. His parents were archeologists, and their parents. It was in his blood. His great grandparents had been among the crew who discovered the tomb of Ahkmenrah, after whom he'd been named. His parents had met at that tomb when archeology classes from several different universities around the world took their summer courses there. Though by then most of the artifacts had already been found, this trip, his parents always told him, was to test their translation skills.

His dad was an Egyptian, but his grandparents had immigrated to America when he was just a baby. And his mom was Arabic, but her parents had immigrated to Britain before she was born. The chances of them choosing the same career and meeting at all were pretty slim. They always seemed to credit the young dead pharaoh for their miracle. Hence his name.

Here he was in the place that his parents met. He grabbed his tools as he stepped out of his tent. This was the last day of the summer course. He had a good feeling about today. The professors had all said that finding anymore relics was highly unlikely, if not impossible. After over sixty years the site had more or less been cleaned over. But he was determined to prove them wrong.

His parents had come along on this trip, much to his chagrin. They'd spent most of their lives specializing in the study of the life of Ahkmenrah, so it was not a surprise that they'd been asked to head the group. But really, he was almost twenty six, he could handle a dig. They could have said no. Well, at least they were supportive, unlike his professor and his classmates.

Pressure had been placed on him to follow in his parent's footprints. And to an extent he did. While they were focused on the pharaoh himself, he'd always felt more drawn to the third wife. Unlike all the queen's before her, she had commanded that no statues or pictures be made of her. There were only two known references to her. One was a record of their marriage and the other was set of hieroglyphs on the crypt walls that depicted a young woman coming from heaven and protecting the young pharaoh with a power that could wipe out armies. She was a mystery that he felt he had to solve.

Descending into what was now more of a pit than a dig, he began where he'd left off the night before. 'Not there,' came the voice in his head, causing him to pause. He heard it often, but he wasn't crazy. At least he didn't think he was. He'd learned to heed that voice. It had been with him for as long as he could remember, and it was always right. In the past, it had even saved his life a time or two. 'There,' it whispered again. A spot on the wall beside him seemed to glow for a moment. So he did the only logical thing he could think of, and started digging there.

Midday saw him still at it. His mom had refilled his canteen twice, knowing he would forget to. She'd even brought him lunch, though it went untouched. He couldn't explain why but finding this artifact, whatever it was, felt like the most important thing in the world to him. Finally, finally he hit the jackpot. He gave a shout, calling for his professor and his parents. He'd been fairly shoved out of the way as the head archeologist on site, aka Dad, took over and sent him to the tent for rest.

Night fell, and lights were brought in as the crews continued to work. After a well deserved meal and nap, Ahkmen had returned to the site to give what aid he could.

"If this is what I think it is, son," his dad said, during a break. "It could be the most important find since the discovery of the tomb. The legacy continues. This could be epic." The man was as excited as high school girl who just got asked to her first prom.

'This is the mold from which I was created,' said the voice in his head.

"The mold of the tablet of Ahkmenrah," Ahkmen said. Wait, how did he know that? The tablet. The tablet of the Ahkmenrah was stuck in his head? He continued, "It was thought to hold power over life and death." A confused look covered his face. He didn't remember studying that.

His dad looked at him, then shook it off. The kid had been like that since day one. "Come on," the older man said, gesturing to him as he stood. "It's your find, so dig."

It was nearly midday the following day when the mold had completely been excavated. It was taken gingerly into one of the tents to be examined further. He stood beside his parents, staring at it on the table. "You were right, son," his dad said, clapping him on the back. "Maybe we can make more tablets like Ahkmenrah's and keep everyone from dying," he joked before pulling his wife out to let their son examine it himself. Of course they would check his work later, but this was meant to be a learning experience.

'Without the priests it can produce only lifeless metal. Its time is over, just as mine is.' Ahkmen stood mesmerized by the artifact, everything else around him forgotten. 'It holds the last remnants of my power. You must touch it, Young Pharaoh. Only then will your wishes be fully granted.' He felt like he would lose something if he did what it said. 'I will be released, at long last.' He didn't like that idea. Over the years, he'd grown rather attached to the voice. Losing it would be like losing your best friend. He could hear it chuckle. 'I was never meant to exist.' There was a pause. 'Your father could not see his selfishness for what it was. He had me created for you. To keep you by his side for all eternity. You, my pharaoh, paid the price. Over and over again. This is my payment to you, which began three thousand years ago.' His hand hovered over the mold. Why did it keep calling him pharaoh? 'I will remind you, but my power is waning. You must touch the mold.' the voice said. Finally his hand rested almost reverently on the edge of the mold. Instantly he was blinded by a white light, before darkness closed in.

"Alex," he called out, sitting straight up.

"Yo, man. I'm right here. No need to shout."

Ahkmen realized he was in a hospital room. He was in Egypt still. Alexander Rothman, one of his classmates, the only one he could actually call friend, was at his bedside. "What," his voice cracked badly. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "What happened?"

"I dunno. I was assigned to cleanup after you found that artifact. But they said one of the lines from the generator to the tent wasn't set up right and fell on you. I think you got zapped, man."

"My parents. Are they outside?"

"Dude. What happened to your voice? You're all, like, British now, or something. Doesn't that happen sometimes to trauma victims? They wake up with, like, a weird accent or something. Yeah, I think I read that somewhere. So you're, like, British now. That is so cool. Chicks are gonna dig that."

Ahkmen put a hand to his pounding head. The only 'chick' he even wanted to dig him was his wife, Alex. Wait, since when was he married? "Can you please send my parents in?"

"Oh. Yeah, no problem, dude. Like, cheerios or whatever." A gurgle came from the young man's stomach. "I'll be back later, man. I seriously need to find some grub."

Two sets of memories for the same time period floating around in his head. That's why his head felt like it was splitting down the middle. The day, or rather, night, that Larry had freed him from the crypt was also the day he'd been accepted into the university. While he'd been helping Larry rescue the tablet, he'd also been across the country, in a club in California partying with his friends. He'd stumbled into the road on his way home, and it was the tablet's voice that had guided back to the sidewalk just as a speeding car went by.

He remembered his fight with Alex. She was carrying his child, and being the idiot he was he had insinuated that she'd slept with another man. But, if he had to guess, that was roughly the same time he'd made his initial discovery of the mold.

He could remember being a mummy. When the tablet had been dying. The way it felt when Alex cried over him, and confessed her feelings for the first time. Well for her, it was the first time. Ironically enough, he'd been in that same city, at the time. Visiting his grandparents. He'd even rode a bus that very night. Was it that bus? Had he seen himself? He couldn't remember. He could swear his head was about to explode.

Sifting through two separate sets of memories hurt too much, so he shifted his focus to the memories from before his time. The way he felt when she had presented the marriage cake to him. How cute she was when she was drunk. Their first night together, that she claimed she couldn't remember. Heaven help him, he sure did, every vivid detail.

His mother's voice pulled him out of himself. "You've been unconscious for almost two days. We were so worried." She sat on the side of his bed and gave him an awkward, sideways hug. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry. The tablet had given him his parents too, not that they would ever remember their past lives. It had fused with him somehow, he realized, that's the only reason he had the memories now. No wonder it'd had such little power left.

"My head is pounding, but other than that I feel fine. There's somewhere I need to go. When can I leave?" His mother handed him a glass of water, which he gladly accepted.

"The doc'll wanna run some tests on you. She said a couple days depending on how you were when you woke up," his father answered. Before clapping him on the back. Ahk nearly choked on his water, spilling a little on his hospital gown. "When they let you out you should go home. We're gonna be here a while longer. You, my boy, discovered the temple of Khonsu."

"I wish I could stay and assist. But I really need to find someone." Ahk closed his eyes. As badly as he needed to see Alex, his Alex, he was certain this headache would keep him from even getting to the airport. And he would be of no use to her until he was well. All he could do was submit to the tests and scans.

When Alex had awoken the day after what they had dubbed the museum's death, it was mid-afternoon. Her first thought had been the loss of her husband, her second thought was for her unborn child. What if whatever took Ahk from her, took the baby too? And if it didn't, what if the shock did? Her eyes were so swollen she couldn't even see straight.

After breaking the news to Larry and explaining her worries, she managed to convince him to help her buy a few pregnancy tests. Surprisingly, they were both relieved when all came out positive.

Over the next week, Larry had come to understand that the only thing keeping Alex from falling into complete depression was the little one. As long as she was pregnant, he felt he could leave her alone while he was at school. She was already a devoted mother. But he worried about after the kid was born. If her current depression combined with postpartum depression, he could lose her for good.

He was sitting on couch, grading papers, while Alex was watching TV and talking to the baby. "You do know it can't hear yet, right," he said finally.

"I don't care. Right now talking to my baby is the only thing keeping me sane," she admitted. "It's a little piece of Ahk. This is all I have left of him."

"You mean besides the jewelry and the flowers."

"They're not flowers. They're seeds. And I'll probably have to sell the jewelry eventually."

"But you planted them. So they're going to be flowers." He set down the paper he was marking. "And why would you have to sell your jewelry?"

"Because you're a teacher. Teacher's make puny salaries. And I don't want to be a mooch forever. Just until the baby's born." She placed a hand on her stomach. "I already lost my first one. I'm not taking any risks with this one."

"I still can't believe you did it with a teenager, you pedophile." He was trying to joke around with her. Make her laugh. Make her angry. Anything that would break the emotionless shell she'd put herself in.

She didn't bite. "I had issues with it at first too. But that was the culture," she stopped when the doorbell rang.

"Hold that thought," he said, gesturing for her to stay put. He opened the door, only to slam it shut again. "Alex, it's for you."

"What? Who? I don't know anybody," she said as she joined him by the door. "Why didn't you open it?"

"I did," he explained taking several steps back. "Now it's your turn."

She shrugged and opened the door, nearly fainting at the sight. "Ahkmen," she whispered.

"Hi," he replied. She punched him in the face, knocking him out cold.

"Geez, girl," Larry exclaimed, dragging the unconscious body over to the couch. "What happened to not taking any risks?"

She stared at the newcomer. "Is it just me or does he look older to you?"

"Yeah, he does." Larry's gaze wandered to a nearby window. "Hey, Alex?"

"Yeah."

"It's still daylight. How is he even here?"

"Larry."

"Yeah."

"I still don't feel the tablet."

"But I saw you. I mean the other you," Alex said, after Ahk had given his explanations. "You're in that sarcophagus, right now."

"I don't know how the tablet did what it did. But that's not me anymore," he nursed his growing headache. The doctor had said they would stop, and he had to admit they weren't as painful as they had been, not that the bruise around his swollen left eye helped any. But he felt he'd earned it.

Larry tossed him an ice pack for his eye, before leaving to give them some privacy. "So what?" Alex asked. "That was the cocoon and you're the butterfly?"

"No. It was as much me, as this is me. It's confusing, I know. Try walking around two sets of memories. Basically, while you were meeting me for the first time, the older...younger...deader me, there was also this me who had the tablet stuck in his head and was trying to pass his university courses. But I couldn't be me until the other me made the wish and this me found the tablet's mold." With a huff he sat back against the couch. "It's official, I've finally lost it. I'm probably not even really here. I'm in a little, white, rubber room with people who think they're Napoleon."

Alex gave a dry chuckle. "Welcome to my world. Time travel sucks. Take it from someone who's been there, it's better to just roll with it and not think about it." There was a moment of silence as the new information was digested. "So," Alex stared at the blank TV screen. "You didn't remember me, I mean us, until a week ago?" He shook his head. "So. I mean. Twenty five. Even in this culture, you're probably already married by now." He looked at her in stunned silence. "And technically, it doesn't matter because my official, no longer official husband is a corpse in a museum." She fidgeted, uncomfortably beside him. "Sorry. I'll shut up now."

His eyes widened with sudden realization. And he couldn't stop the laugh that erupted from his chest. He apologized, before explaining. "My parents have spent their lives studying Ahkmenrah. They included me in on everything from the time I was born in hopes that I would follow in their footsteps. Since I was fifteen, I've spent almost all my free time trying to solve the mystery behind his third wife."

"I'm not sure I follow," Alex admitted.

"You." He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I've been trying to find you. Without even knowing it. I never had any time for girls or dating, because I was looking for you."

She blushed. "Oh."

He chuckled again. And for hours they simply chatted, getting reacquainted with one another. She fidgeted growing uncomfortable. And he shifted sideways, pulling her to rest back against him. His left hand was interlocked in hers, and his right rested on her belly. "I'm sorry," he said finally.

"For what?"

"For ever making you think that I wouldn't want our child. For even insinuating that it wasn't mine."

"No. I overreacted. And you had a reason to think that given the time differences."

Silence reigned for a time, before Ahk spoke back up. "According to the rest of the world we never met before today. And I shouldn't have even known where Larry lived. Everyone will look down on us for this, so I won't blame you for saying no. But will you marry me? Again?" She shifted so she could look at him. "Sorry. Too soon?"

"No. I just can't believe you actually asked this time."

He chuckled. "For the record, the first time was my father's doing, not mine. Not that I didn't completely appreciate it." She elbowed him lightly in the gut. Breathlessly he asked, "Does that mean yes?"

"Of course, yes." She settled back against him. "But I'm too comfortable to kiss you right now."

"Okay." He kissed her neck. "Kissing can wait."