The Fateful Heart

He'd been trying to do that.

"That-" he snapped his mouth shut, taking in a deep breath.

"I do that all the time," he said. "But normally, there's always something off. Something that feels wrong. Something that doesn't feel quite real. But this - it almost felt like..."

He paused, not wanting to sound dramatic. Not wanting to sound wrong.

"It just - it just felt very believable. Like it could happen."

His brows furrowed together tightly, and he looked out into the forest.

He knew Butch had to still be following him, but he didn't know how close he'd gotten just get. If James had been recognized in the town, Butch probably heard about it soon after, and was at most, a day or two behind, which didn't give them much of a cushion.

He felt the temptation - the reasonable temptation - to pack up and get moving again. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep for the rest of the night anyway, but Elliot needed rest, and Evaline needed rest, and he couldn't run them into the ground as he would himself. If it were just him, he would just keep going and going.

Besides, dying from over-exertion seemed like a better way to go. A better way than being suffocated, and knowing Evaline was next.

"If... we're not careful," he added with hesitation, unsure of how to conclude the thought.

Evaline wasn't really sure what he was getting at.

She drummed her fingers along her arm, trying to think of something else to say. Something comforting. She wished she had more experience with this so that she wouldn't mess this up.

It seemed to work last time, so she decided to share more about herself again instead of asking questions.

"I know what you mean. In my nightmares, I dream about the things that could have happened, but didn't. I know it didn't happen, but it still feels real."

She paused, wanting to look at him to gauge his reaction and shoot him a sympathetic smile, but decided against it

"It's not real though."

She paused once more.

"It also helps to keep a journal. A dream journal. You know, in case this happens a lot. Then you'll know which memories are not true."

She bit her lip, wanting to say more, but stopping herself.

James’s frown deepened, and he turned to look at her.

“No - this - this was different. I’ve never had a dream this painfully vivid. It was like I could feel everything. I was like I was there. Awake. All of my senses engaged with it. With dreams there’s always something missing. This felt real in a way I’ve never felt before.”

His stern expression faltered, as he was brought back to it.

His last breath. Dying.

“I...”

He didn’t know if it would be helpful to say.

None of this was helpful to say.

“I... I died.” he finally spouted, regretting it as the words left his mouth.

Evaline snapped her head at James, eyes wide.

He dreamed that he... died?

His words finally started to sink in.

It felt so real. It felt believable, if we're not careful. This was different.

Did that mean..? No. That wasn't possible. How would that be possible? That wasn't possible. Right?

Her mind raced, thinking about the events of everything leading up to it. The confession. The time jump. The new note.

Was it all connected? Did the new note, somehow, connect her lost memories to James in this way? Through dreams? Was this going to happen every time? How much was he going to see? Or was this a one time thing? Or maybe it was all a coincidence?

Her head spun, and all patience was thrown out the window.

She had to know. She had to know if this was a coincidence or not.

"Was I in it?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

James’s stared went through Evaline, and then dropped to the ground.

“Yes...”

His words were hushed, like he was afraid for her to hear them.

“You were there. But I couldn’t see you...”

He swallowed.

“I think we both died,” he said, finding his head shrinking back down between his shoulders.

The ending was unclear.

Evaline wanted to laugh at the complete and utter irony.

It was not that long ago in her mind that she was the one who told him that. It was hard to admit, so much so that enough feelings were brought out so she could undo it all. A part of her wondered if she should have replayed the events with a cooler head, but she didn't think that was necessary.

Until he started to get these dreams, anyways.

She didn't know when she would tell James about her power. A part of her wasn't so sure he even needed to know anymore. But how could she sit by and let him have these same nightmares? The thought horrified her. He wasn't used to it the same way she was. She didn't want to break him.

Her mind couldn't make up whether she was also secretly glad that he potentially could dream about other parts of the memories he lost.

Still, there was a part of her that was in denial. This was too hard to believe. This couldn't be true, especially after all that happened today.

Evaline grit her teeth, deciding to take a risk that will either close all doors, or open one door after closing another.

"Did it involve Butch?"

“He—“

James froze. His body felt cold, and damp, and the air around him lost its warmth. His heart started thumping loudly in his head like a slow, steady beating drum, synching with the rhythm of his breaths in double time.

His words came out low. Deliberate. Punctuated. Each word carrying its own emphasis.

“I never told you his name.”

He felt a different kind of fear creeping in, and he had a thought. A thought that the dream wasn’t a dream at all, but a memory. A memory that was lost. Reversed. Changed.

He took in a shuddered breath, and looked over to Evaline, half hoping to meet her eyes, but not sure if he could do so.

His unsaid question hung in the air between them. Loud, and heavy.

He found his hand on his throat, picturing it again.

Had he.. actually...?

Her heart skipped a beat.

In the heat of the moment, she forgot she wasn't supposed to know who Butch even was. She had said his name so nonchalantly to him last time, and he seemed to believe it without even questioning her.

She looked away, feeling her face going white as she stared ahead in a deadpan expression.

"James, I—"

She immediately faltered. What was she supposed to say? That it was a guess?

No. No more lying.

But how could she not lie without revealing this to him again?

She quickly thought of something to say. Anything. Anything to comfort him and explain this. Her heart beat loudly against her chest. She briefly closed her eyes, taking a depth breath.

"I know," she said under her breath.

She opened her eyes again, staring at nothing in particular in front of her.

"I know, because... I've had the same nightmare."

James was a smart guy. Maybe he'll figure this out without relying on the questions and answers of the game. In this timeline, she hadn't have told him that she saw his death. But he did know she could change the future and go back to the past. Maybe... maybe he could put two and two together and figure this out without her even having to admit it.

She was lying.

He knew she was lying. She had to be.

He hadn't uttered Butch's name once, and while there may have been a very, very slim chance that by whatever act of fate she was brought here, she had the exact same dream and happened to learn the name of the man who'd killed them, he didn't believe it. Not after everything, he'd just learned about her.

Evaline could go back in time. She could change the future. She had the ability to change the course of events, and unless this whole thing was to toy with him, she wasn't lying. And that meant there was an ever-increasing possibility that she'd already done it.

He swallowed.

He felt that he knew the truth, but Evaline wasn't going to say it outright.

Part of him desperately wished to be wrong.

"I... I did die," he said in a whisper. "Didn't I?"

He watched her.

"But you used your power to change it."

The memory of James dying was a nightmare, in a way.

But it didn't haunt her at night while she was sleeping. It haunted her throughout the day.

She had learned to not let it bother her as much as it used to.

Still, Evaline felt the anxiety return to the surface. She wasn't ready to tell him outright. Not again.

"We've already had this conversation," she quietly, trying to keep her voice neutral, but sorrow seemed to lurk around the edge of her voice.

"You just don't remember it."

They'd already talked about it?

James continued to stare at her, his eyes widening with revelation and great sadness. And fear... of betrayal.

What else had happened that she'd undone?

"When?" he asked.

Evaline had to relax her balled up hands when she realized her fingernails were digging into her skin, but she only felt them tense up again.

She didn't want to lie, but...

She turned to see his face, but she couldn't hold her gaze. His face shot a wave of hurt through her.

She recognized the look. She knew what he was saying without saying it out loud. 'How could you do this? Why didn't you tell me? How could you?'

She tried to keep her voice steady, feeling her defenses start to rise again.

"Not long ago," she said quietly, almost a whisper. "When we were on the field."

She knew she should tell him more, but it was like her entire body was on pause, frozen in place, using loss of words as a defense mechanism.

James’s eyes dropped to the ground. Things went still. Even Elliot was quiet.

That was only a few hours ago.

“Would...” he felt his throat starting to tighten. “Would you tell me? What we talked about? Or... or why you changed it?”

He tried to swallow the knot that was growing.

“Did I - I didn’t say something wrong, did I?”

"What? No!" Evaline blurted out, shooting him a panicked glance.

She was expecting him to be disappointed in her, maybe even resent her for a while. Most of all, she was expecting him to push her away, further undoing the progress of their friendship.

But... to ask questions? And ask if it was his fault?

Why did he always put her in front of himself?

Panic started to rise from the back of her throat. Oh no. What was she going to say?

And it occurred to her: he assumed that it wasn't because they died. He seemed to figure out that it was just a conversation, nothing more.

She wanted to lie and tell him she had to undo it out of necessity, but she didn't want to lie anymore. But... she also didn't want to tell the truth. She didn't know what to do.

Her previous defense mechanism seemed to topple in place as anxiety started flowing through her veins, her heart rate ever-so-increasing until it was ringing in her ears.

She had to manually fish out her thoughts, careful to not say everything running through her mind.

"You didn't do anything wrong," she said in a quieter voice this time, staring back ahead as she stiffly sat up straight. Her hands tightly wrung one another, as it it were trying to wring out the nerves.

She had to focus, trying to filter through her thoughts.

"We... pretty much talked about this. I confessed, in the game, that I saw you..."

She trailed off, unable to finished the sentence. Die.

"And you asked what happened. And I said... Butch."

Words seemed to fail her as she realized, suddenly, she was terrified of the possibility that he may dream the original memory knowing that she knew he could do that.

James took in a deep breath, and for a moment, there was finally a breath in clarity with his senses. The memory of death was briefly forgotten as he looked at Evaline, and her tense posture, and how she avoided eye contact. The way her voice trailed off in fear and shame.

They were both scared.

He just wished he knew...

"Then why reverse it?" Something else had to have happened.

She said her powers could only be triggered by strong emotions.

Did she do something... to him? Or him to her? He didn't know what could have happened but didn't. He didn't know anything. The moment was stolen from him, and he didn't even remember it.

It dawned on him now that she had done this at least twice.

Once, when Butch caught up to them and killed them. Once, a few hours ago, in the field, during, or after their game. He knew how it ended for him, but he didn't know how it ended for her in the alternate timeline. The one that was erased.

Was it an accident?

"Did you do it on purpose?"