Chapter Text
So the countdown begins.
The shift in reverse isn’t painful, it feels like he’s drunk too much for maybe five seconds. He sees his friends from above, can’t really see their faces but he remembers that day all too well, like it was yesterday. He can hear Alisha, watches her move about and he wishes she would look up so he could see her face, but of course she won’t.
He takes Seth’s hand willingly. The sooner he gets the immunity, the sooner he’ll be able to be with Alisha again.
Simon thinks a lot. He has a lot of time to think now.
He thinks as he renovates the flat, cleaning and putting the clocks and Polaroids up. Thinks about how upset he is that he has to miss his sister’s party, that he’ll never see her grow up in this version of events. He thinks about the e-mail he wrote to his mum, some lie that he and Alisha were running away and not to look for them, he thinks of how heartbroken she will be but it has to be this way. He thinks as he watches his sister walking home from school, how much he misses her and his parents. He only follows his sister once, just one last glimpse. He couldn’t afford to lose track of what he was meant to do. He says a silent goodbye to her and moves on.
He thinks as he takes a break from his parkour practices, his mind is always working. Sweaty and aching and dead-tired and lonely, his mind is always turning and racing.
He thinks about his mates, now in the future, now going on without him and Alisha. He hopes they’re all right, hopes they’ll be able to take care of themselves. He allows himself some bitterness then, knowing they’ll keep on with their lives, will probably forget about them eventually and move on like he and Alisha had never existed. He supposed they no longer did, not in the future, anyway.
Curtis had tried to stop him from doing it, from leaving. Kelly had stared at him and he could tell she had wanted to say something but she didn’t, not in the end. But Curtis...Curtis spoke up. If anyone was going to understand, it would be Curtis and Simon knew he should’ve expected it.
"You're just going to leave?" Curtis had asked grimly as they waited on the community centre roof for Rudy and Kelly to arrive. "Just gonna go? What if you weren’t meant to?"
"I have to," he had responded quietly. "For Alisha."
"Man, just stay. It’ll be all right, look at me. Just stay."
"Look at you?" Simon had said, his eyes narrowing. "You’re only living without Nikki because you have no other choice. I can change this."
"What if you just go back to right before...right before?"
"No. Then there will be two of me and it’ll just mess up everything. I have to go back further."
"This is a mistake."
"If you could do it," Simon had shot back firmly. "You would, in an instant."
Curtis had been silent for a moment, clearly considering Simon’s words. Then, he had finally nodded, meeting Simon’s gaze. "Save her, man."
He will.
Late at night, he lays on his side, staring at the clocks as they tick, staring at the blurs of photographs on the walls. He thinks of the past, which will soon be his future. He thinks of how to change it all, if it will really change anything. There are some nights he can’t take it and he gets up, covering the clocks with sheets until the flat is completely dark.
He thinks as he lays in bed, staring into the darkness. Sometimes he turns to a girl that’s no longer there.
Simon has nightmares. He dreams of Alisha’s death constantly, of himself dying. Nightmares that get him screaming himself awake. Sometimes he’s able to go back to sleep after composing himself, able to sleep without dreaming. Sometimes he is so shaken he just sits, frozen, and cries. He can’t get the images out of his head- of Alisha’s scared eyes, the blood gushing from the gaping wound on her throat, the blood dribbling from her mouth, the way her eyes went blank right before she died. He had watched as her life slipped from her. She had just died.
He can’t forget it. He won’t forget it.
He had tested his new power on Kelly early one day before the community centre opened. Walked right past her on the estate, his hood over his head, thinking.
It's Simon, Kelly. Turn around. Turn around.
She continued smoking her cigarette, oblivious to his thoughts. Oblivious to him.
Perfect.
Simon’s not entirely prepared. He is taken by surprise as he walks away from Kelly, taken in by Alisha’s voice, shrill and giggling and echoing from the lower level.
Alisha walks beneath him toward the community center and he gasps in surprise when she looks up suddenly and stares right at him. He’s glad his face is obscured by the orange hood as he ducks away but can’t stop that stab of pain in his chest. Almost starts hyperventilating as he slides down the wall and to the ground. Almost has a panic attack. He has to cover his ears then, tries to shut her out as she yells something across the estate.
And just like that, he remembered all the little moments that he had cherished. Not the big moments, but the small ones. The important ones.
The kisses. The laughter from her lips. The intoxicating looks. The hand-holding. The conversations. The fights. The all-consuming, suffocating love. The way her skin felt. The way her hair felt. The way she tasted. The way she made him feel with a smile or a look. All of it.
It moves him forward.
He hadn’t taken that much with him when he went in reverse. The black outfit. The Polaroids left behind by the other him. Sweatpants, tanks, shoes, the basics. And of course, the picture of him and Alisha in Vegas. It’s all he needs.
The old Polaroids go up, not in the center but off on the top and to the sides of the clocks. Out of view but as a reminder. He examines those pictures, notices that not all of them are from their community service. He had no idea why he hadn’t noticed that before. Alisha looks different in some of the photos. Longer hair and slightly older in some, she’s even in a car in one, a picture he doesn’t remember ever looking at. He wonders if Alisha hid these from him. He almost feels betrayed. Almost.
He watches that Rachel girl hoard followers and for just a moment, he’s tempted to follow her home and just kill her, get rid of her before she can harm anyone else. Before she can harm Alisha any further. Of course he doesn’t. That’s not why he’s here, he thinks. It can’t be, he’s here for a bigger purpose. Alisha.
He steals a bike and goes, racing down the estate. The past- present?- him runs and leaves Nathan with the brainwashed cult of people. He saves Nathan for what won’t be the last time and gets great pleasure in throwing him off the bike before racing off.
It’s all coming together.
Simon follows Alisha home, makes sure she stays safe. He starts to obsess about her all over again. He thinks about her constantly, wants to have her by his side again. He wants to just hold her, simply hold her. It eats at him. The desire, the need, the desperation. Some things never change.
He starts taking more pictures. Of places. Of the group. And Alisha. Always Alisha. They all go up on the walls. The photos surround the clocks, and he always makes sure the ones of Alisha are the ones closest to the clocks so he can see them clearly in his line of vision.
Soon her pictures cover the walls of the flat. Sometimes he just sits there, staring at her frozen smile, her beautiful eyes. Sometimes her image makes him smile. Sometimes the sight of her stirs something familiar enough in him to wank off to certain memories until he is ashamed and wanting to punish himself. Sometimes he touches the photos when he misses her too much and he allows himself to break down and cry until his head and chest hurts. It haunts him. She haunts him.
He thinks he’s losing his mind again. The flat is too big and too empty without her. One night he stares at her photos, stares at her sad eyes, stares at her eyes lit up with joy, he just stares at her. He stares until his vision becomes blurry with tears and it’s then he hears her, loud and clear-
"Fucking hell, Simon. I hate waiting..."
He clutches the photo in his hand, his jaw clenching as he responds tersely, "I’m coming, Alisha."
Simon snaps out of it as soon as he hears his own voice echo in the empty flat. The last thing he needed was to start mumbling to himself. But he does allow himself some moments of weakness right before he sleeps for two or three hours. Always, "Good night, Alisha" and he foolishly hopes she can hear him in her room in her own flat.
Sometimes he wishes he hadn’t deleted that video of her, of her telling him she loved him. But he knows it was for the best, he wouldn’t be able to take having that reminder there.
The obsession grows. He watches her, follows her, yearns to hear her laughter and on the occasions that he does, it’s like a shot of adrenaline and a stab through the heart. With each passing day, he becomes more and more determined, more and more convinced that he’s doing what he has to do. It’s better this way, really. He can’t live without her. He won’t.
"You were...serious. Kind of sad. You were way confident...and you still loved me."
As time passes and the grief transforms into a firm resolve, he becomes calmer. He knows what he has to do. He stares at the clocks in his flat, focusing on each one.
One day convinces him more than the others that this was the right decision. He follows Alisha and Curtis as they walk across the estate, hood over his head as he stares at her, only her. Always her.
He watches as Alisha spins around to talk to Curtis and, for a moment, she is gloriously perfect. Her hair shining bright in the sun, her smile wide as she laughs, the wind blowing her curls over her face. The moment stuns him, stops him in his tracks. In that moment, he sees the Alisha that lays in his heart, the Alisha he had wanted to capture with his camera so many times. That image will stay with him for the remainder of his short life, just as much as all of the other memories.
For a short while, Simon obsesses over destiny, tries to think of ways to change the future. To keep Alisha alive. He entertains the idea of not going through with this, he really does. Of not getting involved, of allowing fate to play out, of leaving Alisha be and hoping for the best. Hoping that she survives and lives a long and happy life without him. But he knows he can’t do that, not this time. It has to happen this way.
And what if he leaves her and she dies anyway? He couldn’t allow that to happen.
He wants nothing more than to touch her. He wants nothing more than to touch and taste her skin again. He wants nothing more than to have her smile in her little secret way at him. He wants nothing more than to just be in her presence once more, to have her love all to himself once again. He just wants her. He misses her so much.
His love for her is overwhelming. It just grows in him, curling and tightening around his heart like a snake until he’s nearly suffocating with it. It’s painful and too much but he wants to bury himself and drown in it. He welcomes the pain because it’s real. His love for her is so real and he would never leave her.
Enough was enough. Now’s the time to jump into action and failure isn’t an option. Soon, Alisha is going to be his again. If he can change their destiny somehow and can save her and them for good, even better. If not...he is going to go out in her arms. Either way, it is going to be one fucking amazing ride, as Alisha would say. Off to the races. As long as it is with Alisha, Simon knows he is going to be all right. They were both going to be all right.
Was it all worth it? Were they worth it? Was she worth it? Yes. For eternity, yes.
Time's about to begin again. He can't wait to relive it all over.