The Fateful Heart

Evaline tried to appear unfazed, but it wasn't working.

She could feel his eyes glued on her, like he was studying her. She didn't like it.

Wasn't she the one asking questions, just a minute ago? How did this role change happen so fast?

She didn't want to answer his first question. He wasn't supposed to see the memories she undid. Both times, she wished she didn't have to time jump—but it's too late for that now. The timeline has shifted. The past events should only exist in her head. It was like he was prying into something very personal, and she didn't want to share.

Especially if she time jumped on a feeling not based on terror.

"No," she said, forcing herself to only say what she needed to say. "It wasn't on purpose."

That made a big difference. James could understand Evaline reversing their deaths intentionally, but if her power was something she couldn't control - couldn't choose what events she changed - then he couldn't blame her for it. That would be unfair.

Of course, he wanted to remember. But what was done was done. James still didn't understand how exactly her power worked, but if she couldn't do it on command, then there was no way to undo what was already undone. They had to move forward.

"Okay," he said quietly.

He took in a deep breath and tried to shake off the nerves that clung to him, buzzing under his skin, and he inched closer to Evaline.

Maybe he should ask what she wanted, and not assume.

"We don't have to talk about all of this now," he said softly and steadily.

"I don't know if I fully understand what happened," he said. "But... I forgive you. And I'm thankful that you saved both your life and mine. I won't hold this against you."

He had to fight the voice in the back of his head expressing doubt. Doubting Evaline's sincerity. Her honesty. Wondering if she was lying about how her powers worked. If she was using him. But for what? For what motivation? He couldn't justify it. He had to believe she was being genuine.

It's what he wanted to believe his father would've done.

"I'm not mad," he said. "Just confused."

Evaline finally, slowly, turned her head just enough so she could meet his eyes. He seemed sincere, and she no longer sensed the pain and hurt that she thought she caused him earlier. Her body relaxed just a little, easing its tension.

His words felt familiar. This was the third time she had heard a version of this. She even repeated some of it back to him when he was in distress a little bit ago. At this point, she wasn't sure if it held the same significance as it did the first and second time.

This time, it will stay this way. The timeline will not be changed.

She took a silent deep breath, trying to remain cool and calm.

She wanted to change the subject.

"Are you... feeling better, then?" she asked, peeling her eyes away and into the fire again.

Oh. Him, again. He wanted to forget about the dream, even though he knew once he laid back donw he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it.

“I think so,” he said. He had, at least, calmed down.

“That you... for sitting with me.”

He paused, and looked down at his blanket.

“I... might try to rest a little longer. If you’re still okay staying up for now.”

Evaline was glad that James no longer froze up over the nightmare. Even though this ended in a dreadful way that she least expected, one good thing came out of this: it brought him peace.

"You're welcome," she said quietly, and it just occurred to her that this was the first time that she said those words to him.

For good reason, though. She was often a burden on him. If anything, she should be thanking him even more.

She nodded and inched away from him before deciding to get up to move back across the fire. "That's fine," she said in an almost monotone voice before settling herself back down, a little farther away from him that she was before he woke up. The fire was dwindling and not providing as much heat as it used it, anyways.

"Take some extra time to sleep. I'm not that tired anyways."

James nodded, and he answered by laying back down, facing the dying flames, with his blanket pulled back over his shoulder.

He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep again. Even if the terror of death had retreated into the back of his mind, it was still there, taunting him, like a predator toying with its prey.

Evaline might've been able to undo one death, but he knew that after she was gone, he would have to face it alone, and he wouldn't have any powers to change his future.

Even he knew he couldn't run forever. Not like this.

He wasn't fast enough, he wasn't strong enough, and he knew in his heart that while the king may stop caring, or die before James's capture, Carter would always hold hatred in his heart. James was convinced of that. And that hatred would keep people on his tail until he was delivered to his torture and inevitable death.

It didn't help to think about it. Not like this. Hope was such a fragile and hidden thing, and he couldn't afford to lose it completely. Hope was the only thing keeping him alive. He had to stay alive for Elliot. And now, for Evaline.

He closed his eyes.

Evaline had to get home first, at least.

And he had to try.

Right?

Even though she told James he could sleep longer if he wanted, he merely tossed and turned at night before giving up and deciding to let Evaline have her turn early. She wanted to complain and say that he really should get some sleep since he was more exhausted than she was, but a part of her didn't want to.

What if couldn't sleep because he kept having that nightmare? What if he couldn't sleep because he kept seeing the different memories?

A selfish part of her didn't want him to sleep so that he wouldn't see these things.

Evaline did end up taking his offer anyways, and she drifted off to sleep. Black. Empty. Dreamless.

When she woke up, she found that she had accidentally slept in. James didn't wake her up.

"Good morning," he said, sitting across from her all ready to go, handing her food. "How did you sleep?"

The next hours were hazy.

They were on the move again like everything was normal, but she didn't feel normal. They were in their usual traveling arrangement with James leading the way and holding Elliot's reins while Evaline followed behind. She couldn't stop staring at the back of his head.

How was James not freaking out over... well, everything? She thought about all of last night's events, as well as all of the days leading up to it.

First, he found her in a frightened state. Against all odds, he took her in. She lied to him. A lot. But he lied too. Somehow, they still became friends, and they unpeeled one lie at a time. He found the note, which was the biggest lie of all.


She unraveled. They hugged. She cried. They were in danger. He let her go. He died. She brought him back.

They ran away. He gave her space. She finally decided to listen to the note. They played a game. Somehow, it led to other things. They danced. He called her beautiful. He played the harmonica. They chased each other to the field. They laid next to each other. They stargazed.


She confessed. She cried. They hugged. He promised. She cried again. She silently promised too. She undid it.

She rejected the note. A new verse appeared. He unraveled. He slept. He continued to unravel. He confessed. She confessed. He didn't hug, this time. He went back to sleep.

So much happened yesterday night. So much happened this week. But to him, the events were much simpler and less intense. Will he dream about it? She wanted to ask, but at the same time, she didn't.

It was almost like that night took an emotional toll on the both of them, so conversation was light, especially if it involved themselves. Perhaps they were both thinking the same thing but didn't want to say it out loud: now what?

She told him that they both can take their time opening up, and she did truly mean it. He seemed to agree with her, too. But if opening up wasn't their focus right now, then what was?

She was glad that the topic didn't come up at all. She didn't have an answer.

Night eventually fell and Evaline volunteered to take the first shift again. James needed to sleep much more than she did.

But once again, he tossed and turned at night, and he ended his turn early.

And once again, Evaline wanted to protest, but obliged. She had a sinking feeling that these dreams were interfering with his sleep, and she didn't want to ask the details or act like she knew.

And once again, he let her sleep in.

"Morning," he said with a tired voice, all ready to go. "Sleep well?"

And this happened again, and again, and again, until a week has passed. Each time, he seemed to notice when she woke up, like he was looking at her direction for quite sometime, just waiting until she woke up naturally.

Until this morning, anyways.

Evaline woke up by the sun's morning rays, and she looked up to see James leaning up against a tree, eyes glazed over like he wanted to sleep, but couldn't.

As they traveled, she finally accepted the shift of his demeanor. She realized each day that he was acting more distant, but she didn't want to interfere with his personal problems, hoping he will resolve it on his own. But now? She couldn't ignore it.

James was walking too slow, and he looked like he was in constant pain. She knew he was always in pain, but now she had to wonder... was he consistently trying to hide it?

She wanted to say something, but she wasn't sure if she should. This entire week, the most personal questions they had asked each other mostly related to the trivial answers of the truth and lie game. She had asked him what exactly lasagna was and what cheese was like. She also learned more about goblins and other creatures of Nye, as well as the countries of the world. She remembered he had never gone to the ocean, but neither has she. She suggested they could maybe see it, one day.

But they didn't ask tense questions. She couldn't bear to be the one to break this streak and ask him, "So, are you still having nightmares of your death?"

They eventually land on a small creek for Elliot to lap up water, and they took a small break. Even though she didn't want to, Evaline knew she had to do something. How much longer could he last like this? They were moving too slow, and she didn't want Butch to catch up to them again. She couldn't let that happen.

She sat on the edge of the creek, trying to think of words to say to lead up to this. James seemed to always be the one to initiate conversation, but this time, she had to try. She had to say something. Anything.

She peered down and saw her reflection. She hadn't gotten a look at herself since dressing in front of the mirror at the town, but she probably looked wild. And she could feel it, too; her hair was matted up and constantly tangled. It blew in her face when the wind hit it just right, and she could feel the grime and dirt transfer to her skin. Water can only do so much.

She thought back to the night at the waterfall and how when she was drying, she wondered if she should cut her hair. She hadn't had short hair since... well, never, really. But maybe it was time for a change.

And a conversation starter.

Evaline turned to him. "Hey," she said a little loudly, hoping it'll catch his attention in his half-dazed state. "You said you've shaved your head before. Does that mean you know how to cut hair?"

Even in his waking hours, it would all play over and over again. Night after night, each hour of sleep was stolen by missing pieces of the puzzle. The dogs, howling as they stood outside town. The anxiety that shot through him as he pulled Evaline up onto Elliot, and they started riding. The dogs, with their jaws snapping, finally latching onto his leg. Him, letting go. Falling, and leaving Evaline to ride on, hoping she would escape. He'd already memorized Butch's taunts, and the exact way Reed's nose felt when it cracked against his forehead. He couldn't forget how quickly the pain compounded, and his life started slipping away. Falling away. Plummeting.

And in his last moments of consciousness, Evaline was there, watching him go, at the end of a gun.

James's head started nodding forward as he stood beside Elliot, but he jerked it up. Stiffly, he tied off Elliot's lead to a tree so he could sit down. His ankles were killing him.

The forest around them and the gurgling of the creek was like a haze. Evaline sat down, and James sat beside her, just a foot away. As she stared into the water, he stared into nothingness, and his mind drifted again.

If Butch was watching right now, he would be able to tell James was slipping. Catching him now would be easier than ever. James wouldn't even be able to fight it.

He hates this, and he longed for rest. Not just for his body. His mind. He felt like he was breaking. Falling apart at the seams.

Evaline's voice tore him from his reverie and he turned to look at her. She was playing with her hair.

He stared at her blankly for a moment, as the question processed.

"Not exceptionally," he said. "But functionally."

His gaze traveled over her hair. It was knotted and looked more than a little unkempt. He wondered how he hadn't really realized before, and wondered how many other little things he might've missed. Like signs that someone was on their trail.

"Why?" he asked.

Evaline moved her hair over to one shoulder, feeling it's stiffness. She used to have silky hair, once upon a time. That was likely no longer going to be a trait for her when she was in Nye.

"I'm thinking I should cut my hair," she said. "It's been getting in the way lately."

And also dirty, but she didn't want to openly admit that. It was probably obvious enough already.

James hummed deeply in the back of this throat and looked at her hair a little more closely.

He had a little bit of soap. A comb. They still had some torn pieces from her previous shirt.

"I could braid it," he said. He would be better at that anyway. He didn't want to be responsible for a bad haircut - especially while he was in this state. He'd have better luck braiding. At least that wasn't as permanent and could always be redone.

"And... I have some soap you could use. To get rid of the grimy feeling. First."

Braiding. James could braid her hair.

That was certainly a better option than potentially returning to Earth with a choppy haircut, although Evaline knew this was a temporary fix that wouldn't last more than maybe two days. He was saying he could braid her hair now, but what was he not saying? Because to her, it sounded like this was a silent way to say he was okay with braiding her hair everyday in the future.

Either way... she didn't really have a problem with that.

"Okay, that works," she said with a small smile. Then, remembering that she often didn't voice her appreciations of him out loud, decided to add, "Thanks."

She wasn't sure how much soap he had, but it would be rather nice to finally wash off the dirt and grime from the last two weeks. Did James even wash up at all while she knew him? She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that.

James nodded and got to his feet with some effort, and fetched the soap out of the saddlebag, unwrapping it from its cloth and paper home. It really wasn't much, but it was something.

He didn't really realize how slow he was moving as he came to sit back beside her, handing her the little bar of soap.

"I can braid after you wash."

Evaline nodded and graciously took the tiny bar of soap before edging towards the water on her knees. She was tempted to wash her entire body with this soap, but considering that James had little money and this was the only bar of soap he had, she accepted that she'll have to kiss goodbye any chance of ever being completely clean while she was in Nye.

Instead, she keeled over the water, splashing water to her face and hair to wash the grime off. It took a bit of time since she wasn't exactly bathing or showering, but she still continued to comb her hair with her fingers, getting rid of any knots and grime with soapy water.

"Okay, I'm done," she said when she finished, wringing her hair of any leftover water before sitting next to James, crossing her legs.

As Evaline washed up, James made one last trip to Elliot to fetch his comb before returning to the water. When Evaline sat down, he scooted so he was kneeling behind her. Before he started braiding, he started to gently comb through her hair, going from the bottom to the top.

It had been a while since he'd gotten to braid anyone's hair.

"I'm a little rusty," he said quietly. "So I may not be very fast."

He started gently combing through a knot that she missed.

"Do you want one or two braids?"

"That's okay," Evaline said softly as she thought about his question, fighting her head from tilting up as he combed through a stubborn knot she must have missed. She only had her hair braided a few times, but it had been... what? Ten years? Nine? It felt longer.

"One braid is fine," she answered, figuring it was half the work.

The seconds ticked by as he continued to comb through her hair first, working his way up. She thought about something to say that will eventually lead up to what she really wanted to tell him.

"So, are we traveling to anywhere in particular?" she asked.