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They’ve barely met, but yeah, Simon likes Marnie. He’d try to, even if she was awful, to be honest. It’s nice to see Nathan with a proper girlfriend, a purpose, getting out of the depressing community centre.
They’ve not had much conversation, one on one, apart from him awkwardly asking her about Wales. Simon's family were originally from Carmathen, although they moved before Eliza was born.
He used to wonder how things would have gone for him at school if they'd stayed, and now he's on the other side of the planet, best friends with a boy who would have bullied him mercilessly, and a girl who grew up only fifty miles away.
The baby gives Simon more pause. The tiny, soft head made him nervous of holding Nathan Junior, even though his parents are cavalier, claiming babies bounce at his age, anyway. The idea of someone he knows having a baby makes him feel sort of odd, and he’s not sure why. Maybe it’s the permanence.
Since he’s known him, Nathan’s been the very opposite of committed to anything, every possibility was always on the table. In some ways, he and Nathan needed the others, the group, the structure, a circle of friends, more than anyone.
Now whatever Nathan does, however they all end up; this baby, and this girl, will always be part of him.
Simon thinks sometimes that’s how he feels about Alisha. Or will feel. Not that they end up having children themselves, if his future self's fate holds.
But he does have a genuine soft spot for Marnie. His heart can't help but go out to her, all alone, vulnerable, reminding him of himself before community service. How gamely she fell in with them, like poor Nikki, unbothered by the death that seems to follow them around. And her sweet face, contrasting with her filthy mouth, echoes of Nathan and Alisha when he first met them.
Marnie makes him laugh, shyly at first, shocked and a little disgusted sometimes, in the same way Nathan does; but more importantly, she brings out a tender, protective side of Nathan; one previously only seen when he had that tattoo, much as Simon's tried to block that episode from his memory. Prior to that, he doesn’t think anyone predicted it was there, including Nathan himself.
Nathan says he and Marnie have at least one thing in common, criminally low expectations, him for valuing their time at community service as his best memory; her for describing Nathan's various goofy romantic gestures as the nicest thing anyone's ever done for her.
For his own part, while he and Marnie haven’t spoken a lot; it's good to know there's someone looking after Nathan.
After Alisha, Simon always worried about him the most, somehow. Sometimes he'd make a dark joke, a reference to his childhood, or earning money, and he'll catch Marnie looking worried, knowing the same expression is mirrored on his own face, and they share a look, just a little acknowledgment: 'Yeah, I caught that too.'
Sometimes Marnie says similar things; and while Nathan's not observant in the same way as Simon is, his efforts to spoil her seem to indicate a level of awareness, even if it's never verbalised.
Simon didn’t expect to share the same hotel as them again, after the holiday, let alone sleep on their sofa; but Alisha's told him she needs space, and he has nowhere else to go.
More importantly, he’s worried about what he'll do.
Has he messed up the future his other self set? Or is this a test and messing up would be intervening?
He found himself looking at Seth's office display a little too long, having…he wouldn't call them ideas, but half formed images swimming to the surface of his mind; and he knows it's time to leave.
He has to obey his future self, but he knows his own temptations, and his other self is surely vulnerable to the same. If he's going to live that future, he wants to do it the right way.
When Nathan opens the door, Simon’s a little shocked. Nathan's cut off all his hair, grown in a goatee, and is wearing a suit. Simon didn’t think he’d see him in one again after the Virtue debacle.
He looks equal parts kind of handsome, kind of douche-y. The shininess of the suit, the sleazy facial hair, the tasteless cufflinks, it’s all too much, and therefore very Nathan, somehow, despite its departure from his old, casual style.
Simon smirks. He doesn't even need to say anything, just raises his eyebrows a little.
‘Yeah, yeah’, Nathan waves a hand. ‘Save it. Everyone here's styled up, the t-shirts and curls stuck out, we get IDed for frigging beers half the time, anyway!’ He fiddles with a cuff, pulling out the tail of the shirt and undoing a few buttons.
‘I like it, I always fancied my dad in a suit’, chirps in Marnie, flicking through Blushing Bride in a dressing gown, but no underwear.
Simon’s eyes widen, but he supposes once you've given birth in a room full of strangers, modesty is no longer a pressing concern.
‘I always fancied my mum in her work clothes’, agrees Nathan, nodding. 'She's a teacher, she had this ruler she used to cart around in her briefcase and-'
Simon rubs his head, but he feels a lot better about his own subconscious, about the weird things he apparently said when Alisha touched him. Before she sold her power.
He thought maybe it was the power itself, but Curtis, Shaun, even Alisha herself have been affected by it, and none of them come out with that stuff.
Then he thought maybe it was because he was still a virgin then; that all the fantasies, the porn, the unrequited crushes over the years just…came out, warped by frustration.
But he’s started to wonder about it. It bothers him.
Alisha’s the one. Even before he knew, before she did, it must still have held true, been destined. Why does his mind want to degrade her?
Is he still that boy, lonely and bitter, reaching out to touch, to spy, to take what’s not his? And now he has it, was it the betrayal, the theft that made it so exciting?
When he's focusing again, Nathan's assuring Marnie that she must have got her beauty from her father. Not a compliment Simon would have thought would charm many girls, but Marnie clearly goes by opposites to most; blushing, flattered.
'You haven't met her family yet?' he asks.
Both of them ignore that. Interesting.
Simon doesn’t press the point. He’s not overly close to his own parents, and he gets the feeling he was probably an easier child than either Marnie or Nathan, somehow.
Nathan strokes Junior’s chubby legs. 'I don't think we're getting a dwarf, baby.'
'Nah, he's already tall, like his daddy', Marnie cooes.
Simon's forehead wrinkles in confusion, about to correct their understanding of genetics, but frankly, as much as he does like them, he thinks even the most basic grounding would pretty much baffle them both.
Besides, if they want to pretend the baby’s really Nathan’s, who’s he to stop them?
He’s pretended worse before. They all have.
*
Later
Magic suits Nathan.
At first, Simon was apprehensive of the change in power, considering how many times Nathan died when he was immortal. But now Nathan Jr's here, still small and breathtakingly perfect, the idea of stopping time feels wrong somehow.
They never asked Nathan about not aging, about the downsides to living forever, about watching his brother die, and he would never have answered them seriously if they had tried; but Simon remembers his own first reaction: ‘you'll have to watch everyone you love die’; and he's thankful they met Seth. Even when he sometimes regrets the other choices they made, reminded of them whenever Curtis eyes flick away mid-conversation, then back again, as if he's been away for a second.
Magic is meant for Nathan, an extrovert power, for show offs and attention seekers, doing things no one can understand; but then, Simon pretty much thought Nathan could do the impossible, once he figured out how, ever since they met, when a different him breathed sincerely: ‘Maybe you can do something.’
He’s not so sure of his own, though. Or Alisha’s.
Knowing the future hasn’t always helped their relationship. Sometimes he thinks it’s made it harder, always worrying, am I him yet? Am I doing what he would have? Does she love me as much as him yet?
Curtis met Nikki the same way, a glimpse of the future, their inevitable coupling, and they ended with her shot dead, bleeding out in her lover’s arms; and from what Alisha’s said, his future self has the same fate awaiting him. There might be something to be said for the multiverse theory, for not forcing fate’s hand to follow destiny like a map.
Alisha’s power should be an improvement on her last, should allow her empathy, closeness to others where the old one isolated her from them. But instead, she seems to be pulling away more.
She and Kelly were never particularly matey before. Kelly’s not much like the friends of hers he’s met, Chloe and Lucy, giggly and flirty, always on their way from or to another party. Alisha wasn’t quick to introduce him, and at first Simon thought she was ashamed of him, but now he thinks she’s just grown away from them.
But recently, she’s been hanging around with Kelly a lot. Kelly’s telepathy gave her a lot of insight into what people thought, although according to her, it was mainly unwanted knowledge. Simon can’t help but wonder if Alisha’s is doing the same.
He worries, especially when he sees her and Curtis clown around, playing foosball, pulling pints at the bar, joking about their past.
They never had real sex, it shouldn’t bother him that they have a history. Alisha’s told him a hundred times that he’s the best sex she’s had, that he tries harder, wants to please her more, eats her out longer and fucks her harder; but Simon still questions, in his head.
She and Curtis would still be together, if his future self hadn’t come back. Curtis couldn’t touch her, and his future self could.
At first he felt a tiny, spiteful delight, that cool Curtis, by far the most ‘normal’ of them, the nice guy, the handsome, famous athlete, the one girls fought over; lost out to a version of himself, even one who first spent months killing himself working out.
But lately he’s been wondering if it would have been easier if Alisha had made the choice herself, if the balance had been fair. He’ll never know if Alisha would have wanted him more if his future self had told her how he could touch her.
If Curtis had been able to touch her, instead, would she ever have even looked at him?
‘So how’s Alisha?’ asks Marnie cheerfully. ‘I liked her, that grumpy girl freaked me out a bit, but she was so sweet when I was having this one, you boys were completely fucking useless!’
Nathan and Simon exchange guilty glances, but neither argue Marnie’s point. Nathan pulls an awkward face at the mention of Alisha, but stays quiet, which for him is a monumental gesture. Simon’s appreciative.
‘She’s back home …Seeing family.’
Simon never was much of a liar, ironically, considering how many he’s needed to tell since he began community service.
If he thought Marnie’s obliviousness stretched to stupidity, like Nathan’s sometimes does, he clearly misjudged her, as she winces.
‘Oops, sorry! Maybe you two will work things out, eh? A break might be good, let her miss you. Or stay here a while, Nathan’s told me loads about what you two got up to in London, a bit of fun will cheer you up. We can start tonight! I’m not feeling it in my twat since the stitches, but I always liked it the other way.’
Nathan looks at her adoringly, but Simon knits his brows, confused.
'I wish I had his arse, though, dead shaggable. When we get out the strap-on, he pulls this face like uhhhhh…' Marnie does a shockingly accurate come-face. Not that Simon would know what Nathan's looks like, obviously, although he simulated masturbation during community service enough times to give everyone a pretty good guess.
'Shut it,' Nathan says, kissing her fingertips, embarrassed, like when Simon walked in on them that first time. 'He's delicate, you’ll scare him. Should have seen his face when I told him the lady-boy story.'
'Aw, I love that one', Marnie says fondly, as if it's a beloved anecdote. 'So, anyway, just give me half an hour! Nathan Jr.'s had his milk and bath, so he should be off soon, then I'll turn on the monitor and we can all strip off.’
Simon, speechless, with a horrible sinking feeling that yes, Marnie’s suggesting what he suspects, finally comes up with words. Or oxygen, at least, sputtering the first thing that comes to mind: 'I…thought you two are getting married?'
Nathan looks confused. 'Uh…yeah. You're best man, Uncle Barry. Someone's gotta hold this shitting beanbag during the service.' He chucks Nathan Jr. affectionately under his chin, and the baby crows happily.
'That reminds me, I should tell you about my friend Josie's wedding, it was epic, I’m pretty sure by the end of the planning, I'd slept with her, the father of the bride, and all of the best men,' Marnie chirps.
Nathan has a bizarrely proud expression.
She ducks her head modestly. 'Well, there's not a lot to do in Aberystwyth. Anyway, Nathan told me you'd want to piss on me.
I'm not being funny, but I think it's more likely to be the other way ‘round, my pelvic floor is seriously fucked! …The bad way, I mean. And I forgot about the pit thing when I was in the shower, did them before I remembered, but his'll do, won't they?'
Nathan has finally returned from his own little world, and is now gesturing as subtly as he can, which is to say, not at all.
‘Um, baby? A word? Please?!’
Simon’s so red, he can feel it, it probably looks like he’s going to pass out. Maybe he is. Or he already did, and this is hell.
‘What?’ Marnie scrunches her face, confused.
‘You two have done it loads before, you said’, she waves a hand at Nathan.
‘And you’, she nods at Simon, who ducks his head, like he can escape this situation through body language alone, ‘like girls too, I thought it would cheer you up! It’s not like we’re going to trap you into being Daddy Simon and start a chore wheel, or anything.’
Nathan, never quick on the up-take, appears to have realised that there’s a communication breakdown going on, and that he’s almost certainly to blame, by probability alone. He grabs Marnie, leans in to whisper in her ear.
Simon can’t make it out, but then all he can hear is vague buzzing.
'You told me what he likes when he's getting fucked, and it never crossed your mind to say you two have never actually done it?'
Marnie swats Nathan angrily. ‘You PRICK!’
'Hey, when it came up, we were in the moment! It might have killed the mood a little in the middle of dirty talk.' He puts on an attempt at a girl-y voice: “Tell me about the first time you fucked another bloke?”, complete with acted out pelvic thrusting.
Simon has to concentrate to resist the urge to put the heel of his hand to his forehead, his old stress gesture.
Nathan continues, now speaking in his normal voice, albeit with plenty of grunts in an apparent attempt at verisimilitude:
“Urrrrgh, we're not really at that stage, unless you count me trying to blow him and him legging it, it's more like if I picked a guy! Do you like that, you horny bitch?”
Marnie sulks. 'I don't like that you lied to me, Nathan. And no swearing in front of the baby, I don't want his first words to be 'horny’ or ‘bitch'!
Simon feels as if he's hallucinating. He'd wonder if his drink had been spiked again, if this feeling wasn't becoming increasingly familiar when he's with Nathan and Marnie together.
Nathan’s shirt is still undone at the belly. Marnie rolls her eyes at Simon in an exasperated expression, as she stands, pulling the shirt down the arms and off, before dropping her own robe; smiling sweetly, naked and unashamed.
Simon’s not sure how he keeps finding himself surrounded by people so ready to strip off in front of him; when even now, after the parkour and free running and weight training, he still doesn’t feel comfortable with eyes on him.
But it’s not somehow not as difficult to quell the slight anxiety when Marnie’s smile is kind and Nathan looks almost….well, Simon would call it shy, on anyone else.
It’s Nathan who reaches out first, though, pulls Simon by the wrist more gently than Simon would have thought him capable of, leans in and kisses him, just like that time before, swiftly and softly before pulling back.
‘Come on, Barry’, he teases, but instead of the usual taunting tone, or even the rarer affection, it’s almost…hopeful.
Simon’s never been good at rejecting attention, affection; never had the practice or opportunity before.
The sensible thing to do would be leave, leave this crazy pair to their strange relationship, and fly back to fix his own, before he ruins destiny, breaks the chain, misses the next step.
But against his better judgement, he allows himself to be tugged towards the bedroom suite.
Marnie giggles, jumping backwards onto the bed, hand slipping between her legs, as Nathan, already mouthing at his neck, walks them both in her direction, pushing Simon down.
‘I just want to see it!’ he jokes, leering exaggeratedly as he pulls down the fly of Simon’s jeans.
Simon never thought he’d be able to laugh off the embarrassing experiences he had through community service, particularly in a context like this; but to his own surprise, he finds himself cracking up, not just at the memory but this situation, the indignity of it all.
The mirror opposite captures him, and he’s oddly amused at the contrast from his sex with Alisha; dreamy and hazy, sometimes so perfect that he feels he has no place there, that he’s a placeholder for her beauty until he becomes the man worthy of her.
Marnie shifts positions frequently, before they can establish a rhythm, or touches herself instead; complaining occasionally about the pain of her stitches; slapping away their hands if they touch her breasts, still sore from the last feed.
Nathan was always handsome, Simon used to be jealous, but despite Nathan’s tendency to speak as if he’s sharing vast sexual experience to a novice; he comes loudly and quickly himself, pulling a goofy face.
They both kiss messily, pushily. Simon thinks he’d find it off-putting, but the enthusiasm is endearing, and they’re so natural, it helps him to relax, instead of his tendency to fixate; obsessing about other partners, other selves, about how he looks, how long he lasts, the faces he pulls himself, the sounds they make.
It took Simon effort to make affectionate gestures, it didn’t come naturally to him in the first place, and three months spent avoiding Alisha’s touch made the habit harder to break.
But Nathan was always the opposite, tugging hair, draping arms around shoulders (even Curtis and Alisha, to their mutual distaste), blowing kisses, boundaries a foreign word; and Marnie is no different.
Even Alisha, upon meeting her, was soon stroking her hair, holding her hand through labour, and like him, she’s not the touchy type, particularly with other girls.
The two in tandem are almost impossible to resist, clumsy and adoring. Simon’s fairly sure that it’s possibly the worst sex he’s had, in terms of comparisons to Alisha, lacking the smooth polish of their couplings, the flattering lighting on her matching lingerie, the rhythmic building to mutual, simulatenous orgasms. But in a strange way, as they finish, sweaty and dishevelled, the sheets damp, rapidly cooling spunk on his back, Nathan’s mouth still glistening from Simon and Marnie; he’s never felt so at ease.
*
Afterwards, they’re crashing out. Simon’s pulled on a robe, still a little self-conscious, even after what they did. Marnie’s wrapped up in the sheet like it’s a toga, and Nathan is naturally, stretched out, cheerful and naked, pulling stupid poses to make them laugh.
It’s Marnie who’s bravest, broaching the topic they’re stepping around.
‘You know, Barry, there’s plenty of room here, we’re going to upgrade after Nathan tries out the new power at Caesar’s. You’re welcome to stick around. I mean, Junior’ll probably miss you otherwise, and we’ve only just got him sleeping through.’
‘Falls asleep as soon as Uncle Barry starts in on his sci-fi bullshit’, Nathan teases, but it lacks any sting.
However, Simon only packed for a week, the rent’s due on the flat, he left his camera at home. All excuses, naturally.
He needs some space to breath, away from their little family, the swift addiction of their domestic routine, of the predictability the baby enforces – feedings due here, changes there; contrasted with the baffling unpredictability of his parents.
He needs to see Alisha, to find out if she’s changed her mind. If he’s changed his own.
Nathan offers: ‘Stay ’til the casino job, we’ll go out on the town after’, but neither he or Marnie press the issue when Simon insists, they just make him promise he’ll come back soon, accompanied or not.
None of them seem to want to assume anything more, and Simon’s not sure if that’s unavoidable, on the sharp end of a triangle. He doesn’t want to outstay his welcome, and Nathan’s learnt the hard way about making assumptions of other’s feelings. Marnie is still difficult to read, at least for him, and he has no idea what any of them want, are offering. Even himself.
*
Simon’s at the airport when he gets a call from an unknown number.
A local code, it's not the suite or Alisha, so he's tempted to wait. The flight is boarding, but the queue’s long, and Simon, unused enough to people calling to feel comfortable ignoring it, decides swiftly, answering before the third ring.
‘You have a phone call from Clark County detention centre, will you accept the charges?’ says an operator.
Simon sighs, already turning back to the baggage desk.
*
Simon’s naturally complained about the hassle, mocked Nathan heartily; but it feels good to come to someone’s rescue again.
He and Alisha’s relationship felt strange sometimes, outside the big heroic moments.
He wanted to feel useful, to be her hero, to save her; but she was always more capable than him, in some ways, and he thinks sometimes that maybe his feeling needed and her feeling dependent, even reliant on him were the same thing.
He wants to be there for her, but he doesn’t want another Sally, safe and locked away from the world. Or he doesn’t anymore. Yet.
Nathan on the other hand, has always been openly, hopelessly needy, always wanting something – money, a drink at the bar, to borrow cologne and clothes. He pretty much depended on Simon from day one, to do the planning, to protect them all, begging to be saved from the trouble he constantly finds himself in. It doesn’t feel like a power trip to, once again, come to his rescue.
Nathan greets him, dressed in a familiar orange jumpsuit, this one printed with D.O.C. instead of ‘COMMUNITY BLOWBACK’.
‘My arse is killing me!’
Simon looks mortified.
‘Nah, it’s not that. Jesus, Marnie's up there enough with her toy collection, your cock’s magical and everything, mate, but nothing’s touching the sides after that, some of those fuckers are this big.’ He gestures with his hands like a fisherman demonstrating the catch that got away.
Simon's expression shifts to the familiar shocked disgust, with a hint of amusement.
‘No, I had to shit out a rabbit! Poor little fella’s probably getting stewed up by some rednecks as we speak!’
Simon doesn’t really want to know, but he kind of has to ask. ‘…Why did you shit a rabbit?’
‘It was a distraction!
‘Did it work?’
‘Not unless these are a fashion statement, you twat.’
‘Why did you think shitting a rabbit would help?’ Simon keeps his voice deadpan, with effort, but his lips are twitching.
‘Hey, this is on you. You left me and Marnie in charge of the details? That's real genius. No one ever told me dices don't have sevens!’
Marnie cheerfully waves from the bed, cuddling the baby, as they enter the room. 'Sorry, Barry! I was never good at maths.'
'I was shitting myself in jail!'
Simon waits, nervously. With Nathan this could be literal or figurative.
'Thought I was gonna have to go in there all power bottom and marry a Nazi or something.'
Simon rolls his eyes. ‘Well, you can call off the engagement for now. The bail’s paid, although Seth's not happy. Neither’s Kelly, she says she'll, and I’m quoting verbatim here: “fly over and kick you in the balls” if you don't sort this.'
'Well, are they gonna deport us or what? The wedding’s in a month, my mum's coming over.'
‘It’s not about the money, it’s a category D felony –’ he can see Nathan’s eyes glaze over almost instantly. He tries to simplify even further. ‘Look, the bail’s fine, it’s only two grand.’
Nathan looks horrified, but then, he never had much of a head for money, considering how easily Seth scammed him at Christmas. Simon is therefore not too panicked about that debt, despite Kelly’s threats.
‘It’s more about a year in prison.’
Nathan gestures at his throat – cut it out!, but it’s too late. Marnie’s heard. She bursts in, holding the baby. ‘Um, excuse me, but what the FUCK?’ She bellows, hands over his tiny ears.
‘Hey, baby, it’s fine, we’ll get a lawyer. There were cards all over the men’s, we can have our pick of the best!’
Simon shuts his eyes. They’re still not getting it.
‘We have to be incredibly careful here. If they have any suspicions at all that this is anything more than a routine scam, they’ll run a check on you from the UK.’
‘What, and they’ll add an extra few months on there for stealing pic n’ mix?!’
‘No, they’ll realise that Nathan Young is legally dead. Your mum probably didn’t think to cancel your passport, hence how you got through the airport; but you were buried, she would have had to apply for a death certificate. Any fuss now, and they’ll investigate, and then you’re looking at serious fraud charge. Like, ten years serious.’
Nathan’s panicking now, arms flapping. ‘What the fuck do we do?!’
‘If they charge you, you can use your power to escape. But they’ll definitely be looking for you then, and I don’t think you can exactly get you three through LAS security, even warping reality. We need serious money. Enough for a new passport, fines, and bribes if anyone does pick up.’
‘You’re the one with the ideas here, mate!’
‘Look…forget the criminal thing. You were never that good at it.’ Simon smiles affectionately, but he can see that Nathan’s still literally biting his tongue in an effort not to retort. ‘Stick to your talents. I can sort the rest.’
‘Barry, what are you saying? Are you suggesting the two of us, teaming up?’ Nathan begins to smirk, finally cluing in.
‘Absolutely not,’ Simon says, firmly, but as Marnie and Nathan exchange glances, he can tell that the subject won’t be closed that easily.
*
Alisha calls. She, Kelly and Curtis have gotten six more weeks community service.
She’s always been unusually docile with Simon, as opposed to how she speaks to others, perhaps out of guilt over how she used to be at the beginning of service, perhaps to soothe his worries that she preferred his future self. And Simon hates confrontation, could never shout at her. However, this is the closest she’s ever sounded to angry. Worse though, is the little undercurrent of hurt:
‘Why aren’t you here?’
‘You said I should, give you…space’, he stutters, nervously.
‘I want us to be together. But we have to both want it. I know how much you’ve given up for me.’
At this, Simon’s startled. Alisha’s the one settling for him, as far as he’s concerned.
‘…How much you…he must have sacrificed to…go back, to save me.
But…I don’t want to be with you because I’m waiting for you to become someone you don’t want to be. And I don’t want you to be with me because you think I’m your only shot. I’m glad you’re not that person anymore, you’re happier. I’m happier.
There’s a guy here doing community service, we were at college together, and…well, it’s a long story. But you’re not the only one who doesn’t like your past.
I just think we need to…think about our future.’
Simon’s never really imagined a future.
Before community service, it was enough to imagine an escape, from school, his house, other people.
Sally and Jessica allowed him short daydreams, of a sex life, a girlfriend; but anything beyond that seemed too much to hope for.
And then he found out about his future self, that all his childhood dreams were going to come true – a home, a beautiful girlfriend, a chance to make the world a better place.
That it doesn’t last never seemed to matter – he spent twenty years without making much of an impact on anyone. The chance to save his friends, save Alisha, to be a hero is worth twenty more of staying that lonely boy.
The idea that there may be other options, that it’s not a flat choice, left or right, stasis or death makes him feel more like his old self than ever, terrified and queasy; the same way he feels holding the baby sometimes.
But then he thinks about his future self, what he came from. Why he came back for Alisha.
Somehow he doubts that he left a thriving relationship, a long marriage, to get shot in the past.
Maybe he was grieving, a broken man, desperate for just a little more time. But what if re-enacting their future is what ends up harming them both?
He loves Alisha, he’s never thought of being in a relationship with anyone else. If it saves her life, his own is a small price to pay; but he doesn’t want to be with her more than he wants her happy. Laughing with their friends. Travelling, like she’s talked about. Going to fashion college. Getting her licence back.
He doesn’t know what he wants for himself. Sally was the first person to ask, really, dangling editing internships, a career, a chance to start again in front of him; and look how that turned out.
He’s not sure he could go back to the photography, watching life behind a camera, the lonely hours spent on the computer editing; but then again, he took some shots for Marnie of the baby, which felt nice.
Not parkouring off a building, saving damsels in distress level important; just ordinary level nice, to make someone smile, using an ordinary skill; not the death-defying leaps and unexplainable knowledge of his future self. Not a big sacrifice, but Simon’s beginning to learn that sometimes it’s the smaller efforts that mean more.
The precognition skill Simon uses isn’t reliable, but Simon, invisibility or no, is a man who knows how to blend. Even the casino staff, who specialise in facial recognition, struggle to recall the alibis he offers.
With one big night, he could probably pay off the bail and the wedding; and sometimes he remembers how easy it was to rob the bank on Tim’s demands; but Marnie and Nathan Junior, powerless and reliant on Nathan, and therefore him saving Nathan once more, are a reminder for him to keep a tight rein on himself. He’s strict, and patient, switching games, hotels and casinos, never collecting wins in amounts that would attract undue attention.
The only indulgence he allows is occasionally stopping in to watch the show.
The stage suits Nathan, his natural element. He was always good at performing for a crowd, maintaining others’ attention, a flashy distraction allowing the others to hide in plain sight.
It worked during community service, and despite his desire to use his powers for good, Simon can’t bring himself to regret any of it. Nathan’s always wanted to entertain, to make others laugh, one of his more positive desires amongst the many selfish, disgusting and illegal ones he’d more swiftly admit to; and while the gigs are temporary, there’s more stability, and more motivation for him than his original plan of killing himself for profit.
All their powers got to them after a while, and while Simon’s relieved the responsibility for turning back time was with Curtis, the staidest of them; that it was Kelly, the strongest, who took the burden of other’s thoughts; he thinks Alisha and Nathan in some ways struggled the most, only able to view themselves as objects, whether of lust or destruction. Only able to use their powers by harm, whether to others or themselves. He saw ugliness to all of them during that time, including himself, and not all of it can be blamed on the powers, but now he thinks he’s seeing the inverse, the powers bringing something good out of all of them that hadn’t been given a chance to emerge.
He doesn’t know what the future holds, for any of them, but he doesn’t want to be reliant on being able to predict it. His future self may have needed the immunity, the armour, the insider information and the adoration; but while he’s not the man he thought he would be, he’s beginning to like the man he’s becoming.
They’ve barely met, but yeah, Simon likes Marnie. He’d try to, even if she was awful, to be honest. It’s nice to see Nathan with a proper girlfriend, a purpose, getting out of the depressing community centre.
They’ve not had much conversation, one on one, apart from him awkwardly asking her about Wales. Simon's family were originally from Carmathen, although they moved before Eliza was born.
He used to wonder how things would have gone for him at school if they'd stayed, and now he's on the other side of the planet, best friends with a boy who would have bullied him mercilessly, and a girl who grew up only fifty miles away.
The baby gives Simon more pause. The tiny, soft head made him nervous of holding Nathan Junior, even though his parents are cavalier, claiming babies bounce at his age, anyway. The idea of someone he knows having a baby makes him feel sort of odd, and he’s not sure why. Maybe it’s the permanence.
Since he’s known him, Nathan’s been the very opposite of committed to anything, every possibility was always on the table. In some ways, he and Nathan needed the others, the group, the structure, a circle of friends, more than anyone.
Now whatever Nathan does, however they all end up; this baby, and this girl, will always be part of him.
Simon thinks sometimes that’s how he feels about Alisha. Or will feel. Not that they end up having children themselves, if his future self's fate holds.
But he does have a genuine soft spot for Marnie. His heart can't help but go out to her, all alone, vulnerable, reminding him of himself before community service. How gamely she fell in with them, like poor Nikki, unbothered by the death that seems to follow them around. And her sweet face, contrasting with her filthy mouth, echoes of Nathan and Alisha when he first met them.
Marnie makes him laugh, shyly at first, shocked and a little disgusted sometimes, in the same way Nathan does; but more importantly, she brings out a tender, protective side of Nathan; one previously only seen when he had that tattoo, much as Simon's tried to block that episode from his memory. Prior to that, he doesn’t think anyone predicted it was there, including Nathan himself.
Nathan says he and Marnie have at least one thing in common, criminally low expectations, him for valuing their time at community service as his best memory; her for describing Nathan's various goofy romantic gestures as the nicest thing anyone's ever done for her.
For his own part, while he and Marnie haven’t spoken a lot; it's good to know there's someone looking after Nathan.
After Alisha, Simon always worried about him the most, somehow. Sometimes he'd make a dark joke, a reference to his childhood, or earning money, and he'll catch Marnie looking worried, knowing the same expression is mirrored on his own face, and they share a look, just a little acknowledgment: 'Yeah, I caught that too.'
Sometimes Marnie says similar things; and while Nathan's not observant in the same way as Simon is, his efforts to spoil her seem to indicate a level of awareness, even if it's never verbalised.
Simon didn’t expect to share the same hotel as them again, after the holiday, let alone sleep on their sofa; but Alisha's told him she needs space, and he has nowhere else to go.
More importantly, he’s worried about what he'll do.
Has he messed up the future his other self set? Or is this a test and messing up would be intervening?
He found himself looking at Seth's office display a little too long, having…he wouldn't call them ideas, but half formed images swimming to the surface of his mind; and he knows it's time to leave.
He has to obey his future self, but he knows his own temptations, and his other self is surely vulnerable to the same. If he's going to live that future, he wants to do it the right way.
When Nathan opens the door, Simon’s a little shocked. Nathan's cut off all his hair, grown in a goatee, and is wearing a suit. Simon didn’t think he’d see him in one again after the Virtue debacle.
He looks equal parts kind of handsome, kind of douche-y. The shininess of the suit, the sleazy facial hair, the tasteless cufflinks, it’s all too much, and therefore very Nathan, somehow, despite its departure from his old, casual style.
Simon smirks. He doesn't even need to say anything, just raises his eyebrows a little.
‘Yeah, yeah’, Nathan waves a hand. ‘Save it. Everyone here's styled up, the t-shirts and curls stuck out, we get IDed for frigging beers half the time, anyway!’ He fiddles with a cuff, pulling out the tail of the shirt and undoing a few buttons.
‘I like it, I always fancied my dad in a suit’, chirps in Marnie, flicking through Blushing Bride in a dressing gown, but no underwear.
Simon’s eyes widen, but he supposes once you've given birth in a room full of strangers, modesty is no longer a pressing concern.
‘I always fancied my mum in her work clothes’, agrees Nathan, nodding. 'She's a teacher, she had this ruler she used to cart around in her briefcase and-'
Simon rubs his head, but he feels a lot better about his own subconscious, about the weird things he apparently said when Alisha touched him. Before she sold her power.
He thought maybe it was the power itself, but Curtis, Shaun, even Alisha herself have been affected by it, and none of them come out with that stuff.
Then he thought maybe it was because he was still a virgin then; that all the fantasies, the porn, the unrequited crushes over the years just…came out, warped by frustration.
But he’s started to wonder about it. It bothers him.
Alisha’s the one. Even before he knew, before she did, it must still have held true, been destined. Why does his mind want to degrade her?
Is he still that boy, lonely and bitter, reaching out to touch, to spy, to take what’s not his? And now he has it, was it the betrayal, the theft that made it so exciting?
When he's focusing again, Nathan's assuring Marnie that she must have got her beauty from her father. Not a compliment Simon would have thought would charm many girls, but Marnie clearly goes by opposites to most; blushing, flattered.
'You haven't met her family yet?' he asks.
Both of them ignore that. Interesting.
Simon doesn’t press the point. He’s not overly close to his own parents, and he gets the feeling he was probably an easier child than either Marnie or Nathan, somehow.
Nathan strokes Junior’s chubby legs. 'I don't think we're getting a dwarf, baby.'
'Nah, he's already tall, like his daddy', Marnie cooes.
Simon's forehead wrinkles in confusion, about to correct their understanding of genetics, but frankly, as much as he does like them, he thinks even the most basic grounding would pretty much baffle them both.
Besides, if they want to pretend the baby’s really Nathan’s, who’s he to stop them?
He’s pretended worse before. They all have.
*
Later
Magic suits Nathan.
At first, Simon was apprehensive of the change in power, considering how many times Nathan died when he was immortal. But now Nathan Jr's here, still small and breathtakingly perfect, the idea of stopping time feels wrong somehow.
They never asked Nathan about not aging, about the downsides to living forever, about watching his brother die, and he would never have answered them seriously if they had tried; but Simon remembers his own first reaction: ‘you'll have to watch everyone you love die’; and he's thankful they met Seth. Even when he sometimes regrets the other choices they made, reminded of them whenever Curtis eyes flick away mid-conversation, then back again, as if he's been away for a second.
Magic is meant for Nathan, an extrovert power, for show offs and attention seekers, doing things no one can understand; but then, Simon pretty much thought Nathan could do the impossible, once he figured out how, ever since they met, when a different him breathed sincerely: ‘Maybe you can do something.’
He’s not so sure of his own, though. Or Alisha’s.
Knowing the future hasn’t always helped their relationship. Sometimes he thinks it’s made it harder, always worrying, am I him yet? Am I doing what he would have? Does she love me as much as him yet?
Curtis met Nikki the same way, a glimpse of the future, their inevitable coupling, and they ended with her shot dead, bleeding out in her lover’s arms; and from what Alisha’s said, his future self has the same fate awaiting him. There might be something to be said for the multiverse theory, for not forcing fate’s hand to follow destiny like a map.
Alisha’s power should be an improvement on her last, should allow her empathy, closeness to others where the old one isolated her from them. But instead, she seems to be pulling away more.
She and Kelly were never particularly matey before. Kelly’s not much like the friends of hers he’s met, Chloe and Lucy, giggly and flirty, always on their way from or to another party. Alisha wasn’t quick to introduce him, and at first Simon thought she was ashamed of him, but now he thinks she’s just grown away from them.
But recently, she’s been hanging around with Kelly a lot. Kelly’s telepathy gave her a lot of insight into what people thought, although according to her, it was mainly unwanted knowledge. Simon can’t help but wonder if Alisha’s is doing the same.
He worries, especially when he sees her and Curtis clown around, playing foosball, pulling pints at the bar, joking about their past.
They never had real sex, it shouldn’t bother him that they have a history. Alisha’s told him a hundred times that he’s the best sex she’s had, that he tries harder, wants to please her more, eats her out longer and fucks her harder; but Simon still questions, in his head.
She and Curtis would still be together, if his future self hadn’t come back. Curtis couldn’t touch her, and his future self could.
At first he felt a tiny, spiteful delight, that cool Curtis, by far the most ‘normal’ of them, the nice guy, the handsome, famous athlete, the one girls fought over; lost out to a version of himself, even one who first spent months killing himself working out.
But lately he’s been wondering if it would have been easier if Alisha had made the choice herself, if the balance had been fair. He’ll never know if Alisha would have wanted him more if his future self had told her how he could touch her.
If Curtis had been able to touch her, instead, would she ever have even looked at him?
‘So how’s Alisha?’ asks Marnie cheerfully. ‘I liked her, that grumpy girl freaked me out a bit, but she was so sweet when I was having this one, you boys were completely fucking useless!’
Nathan and Simon exchange guilty glances, but neither argue Marnie’s point. Nathan pulls an awkward face at the mention of Alisha, but stays quiet, which for him is a monumental gesture. Simon’s appreciative.
‘She’s back home …Seeing family.’
Simon never was much of a liar, ironically, considering how many he’s needed to tell since he began community service.
If he thought Marnie’s obliviousness stretched to stupidity, like Nathan’s sometimes does, he clearly misjudged her, as she winces.
‘Oops, sorry! Maybe you two will work things out, eh? A break might be good, let her miss you. Or stay here a while, Nathan’s told me loads about what you two got up to in London, a bit of fun will cheer you up. We can start tonight! I’m not feeling it in my twat since the stitches, but I always liked it the other way.’
Nathan looks at her adoringly, but Simon knits his brows, confused.
'I wish I had his arse, though, dead shaggable. When we get out the strap-on, he pulls this face like uhhhhh…' Marnie does a shockingly accurate come-face. Not that Simon would know what Nathan's looks like, obviously, although he simulated masturbation during community service enough times to give everyone a pretty good guess.
'Shut it,' Nathan says, kissing her fingertips, embarrassed, like when Simon walked in on them that first time. 'He's delicate, you’ll scare him. Should have seen his face when I told him the lady-boy story.'
'Aw, I love that one', Marnie says fondly, as if it's a beloved anecdote. 'So, anyway, just give me half an hour! Nathan Jr.'s had his milk and bath, so he should be off soon, then I'll turn on the monitor and we can all strip off.’
Simon, speechless, with a horrible sinking feeling that yes, Marnie’s suggesting what he suspects, finally comes up with words. Or oxygen, at least, sputtering the first thing that comes to mind: 'I…thought you two are getting married?'
Nathan looks confused. 'Uh…yeah. You're best man, Uncle Barry. Someone's gotta hold this shitting beanbag during the service.' He chucks Nathan Jr. affectionately under his chin, and the baby crows happily.
'That reminds me, I should tell you about my friend Josie's wedding, it was epic, I’m pretty sure by the end of the planning, I'd slept with her, the father of the bride, and all of the best men,' Marnie chirps.
Nathan has a bizarrely proud expression.
She ducks her head modestly. 'Well, there's not a lot to do in Aberystwyth. Anyway, Nathan told me you'd want to piss on me.
I'm not being funny, but I think it's more likely to be the other way ‘round, my pelvic floor is seriously fucked! …The bad way, I mean. And I forgot about the pit thing when I was in the shower, did them before I remembered, but his'll do, won't they?'
Nathan has finally returned from his own little world, and is now gesturing as subtly as he can, which is to say, not at all.
‘Um, baby? A word? Please?!’
Simon’s so red, he can feel it, it probably looks like he’s going to pass out. Maybe he is. Or he already did, and this is hell.
‘What?’ Marnie scrunches her face, confused.
‘You two have done it loads before, you said’, she waves a hand at Nathan.
‘And you’, she nods at Simon, who ducks his head, like he can escape this situation through body language alone, ‘like girls too, I thought it would cheer you up! It’s not like we’re going to trap you into being Daddy Simon and start a chore wheel, or anything.’
Nathan, never quick on the up-take, appears to have realised that there’s a communication breakdown going on, and that he’s almost certainly to blame, by probability alone. He grabs Marnie, leans in to whisper in her ear.
Simon can’t make it out, but then all he can hear is vague buzzing.
'You told me what he likes when he's getting fucked, and it never crossed your mind to say you two have never actually done it?'
Marnie swats Nathan angrily. ‘You PRICK!’
'Hey, when it came up, we were in the moment! It might have killed the mood a little in the middle of dirty talk.' He puts on an attempt at a girl-y voice: “Tell me about the first time you fucked another bloke?”, complete with acted out pelvic thrusting.
Simon has to concentrate to resist the urge to put the heel of his hand to his forehead, his old stress gesture.
Nathan continues, now speaking in his normal voice, albeit with plenty of grunts in an apparent attempt at verisimilitude:
“Urrrrgh, we're not really at that stage, unless you count me trying to blow him and him legging it, it's more like if I picked a guy! Do you like that, you horny bitch?”
Marnie sulks. 'I don't like that you lied to me, Nathan. And no swearing in front of the baby, I don't want his first words to be 'horny’ or ‘bitch'!
Simon feels as if he's hallucinating. He'd wonder if his drink had been spiked again, if this feeling wasn't becoming increasingly familiar when he's with Nathan and Marnie together.
Nathan’s shirt is still undone at the belly. Marnie rolls her eyes at Simon in an exasperated expression, as she stands, pulling the shirt down the arms and off, before dropping her own robe; smiling sweetly, naked and unashamed.
Simon’s not sure how he keeps finding himself surrounded by people so ready to strip off in front of him; when even now, after the parkour and free running and weight training, he still doesn’t feel comfortable with eyes on him.
But it’s not somehow not as difficult to quell the slight anxiety when Marnie’s smile is kind and Nathan looks almost….well, Simon would call it shy, on anyone else.
It’s Nathan who reaches out first, though, pulls Simon by the wrist more gently than Simon would have thought him capable of, leans in and kisses him, just like that time before, swiftly and softly before pulling back.
‘Come on, Barry’, he teases, but instead of the usual taunting tone, or even the rarer affection, it’s almost…hopeful.
Simon’s never been good at rejecting attention, affection; never had the practice or opportunity before.
The sensible thing to do would be leave, leave this crazy pair to their strange relationship, and fly back to fix his own, before he ruins destiny, breaks the chain, misses the next step.
But against his better judgement, he allows himself to be tugged towards the bedroom suite.
Marnie giggles, jumping backwards onto the bed, hand slipping between her legs, as Nathan, already mouthing at his neck, walks them both in her direction, pushing Simon down.
‘I just want to see it!’ he jokes, leering exaggeratedly as he pulls down the fly of Simon’s jeans.
Simon never thought he’d be able to laugh off the embarrassing experiences he had through community service, particularly in a context like this; but to his own surprise, he finds himself cracking up, not just at the memory but this situation, the indignity of it all.
The mirror opposite captures him, and he’s oddly amused at the contrast from his sex with Alisha; dreamy and hazy, sometimes so perfect that he feels he has no place there, that he’s a placeholder for her beauty until he becomes the man worthy of her.
Marnie shifts positions frequently, before they can establish a rhythm, or touches herself instead; complaining occasionally about the pain of her stitches; slapping away their hands if they touch her breasts, still sore from the last feed.
Nathan was always handsome, Simon used to be jealous, but despite Nathan’s tendency to speak as if he’s sharing vast sexual experience to a novice; he comes loudly and quickly himself, pulling a goofy face.
They both kiss messily, pushily. Simon thinks he’d find it off-putting, but the enthusiasm is endearing, and they’re so natural, it helps him to relax, instead of his tendency to fixate; obsessing about other partners, other selves, about how he looks, how long he lasts, the faces he pulls himself, the sounds they make.
It took Simon effort to make affectionate gestures, it didn’t come naturally to him in the first place, and three months spent avoiding Alisha’s touch made the habit harder to break.
But Nathan was always the opposite, tugging hair, draping arms around shoulders (even Curtis and Alisha, to their mutual distaste), blowing kisses, boundaries a foreign word; and Marnie is no different.
Even Alisha, upon meeting her, was soon stroking her hair, holding her hand through labour, and like him, she’s not the touchy type, particularly with other girls.
The two in tandem are almost impossible to resist, clumsy and adoring. Simon’s fairly sure that it’s possibly the worst sex he’s had, in terms of comparisons to Alisha, lacking the smooth polish of their couplings, the flattering lighting on her matching lingerie, the rhythmic building to mutual, simulatenous orgasms. But in a strange way, as they finish, sweaty and dishevelled, the sheets damp, rapidly cooling spunk on his back, Nathan’s mouth still glistening from Simon and Marnie; he’s never felt so at ease.
*
Afterwards, they’re crashing out. Simon’s pulled on a robe, still a little self-conscious, even after what they did. Marnie’s wrapped up in the sheet like it’s a toga, and Nathan is naturally, stretched out, cheerful and naked, pulling stupid poses to make them laugh.
It’s Marnie who’s bravest, broaching the topic they’re stepping around.
‘You know, Barry, there’s plenty of room here, we’re going to upgrade after Nathan tries out the new power at Caesar’s. You’re welcome to stick around. I mean, Junior’ll probably miss you otherwise, and we’ve only just got him sleeping through.’
‘Falls asleep as soon as Uncle Barry starts in on his sci-fi bullshit’, Nathan teases, but it lacks any sting.
However, Simon only packed for a week, the rent’s due on the flat, he left his camera at home. All excuses, naturally.
He needs some space to breath, away from their little family, the swift addiction of their domestic routine, of the predictability the baby enforces – feedings due here, changes there; contrasted with the baffling unpredictability of his parents.
He needs to see Alisha, to find out if she’s changed her mind. If he’s changed his own.
Nathan offers: ‘Stay ’til the casino job, we’ll go out on the town after’, but neither he or Marnie press the issue when Simon insists, they just make him promise he’ll come back soon, accompanied or not.
None of them seem to want to assume anything more, and Simon’s not sure if that’s unavoidable, on the sharp end of a triangle. He doesn’t want to outstay his welcome, and Nathan’s learnt the hard way about making assumptions of other’s feelings. Marnie is still difficult to read, at least for him, and he has no idea what any of them want, are offering. Even himself.
*
Simon’s at the airport when he gets a call from an unknown number.
A local code, it's not the suite or Alisha, so he's tempted to wait. The flight is boarding, but the queue’s long, and Simon, unused enough to people calling to feel comfortable ignoring it, decides swiftly, answering before the third ring.
‘You have a phone call from Clark County detention centre, will you accept the charges?’ says an operator.
Simon sighs, already turning back to the baggage desk.
*
Simon’s naturally complained about the hassle, mocked Nathan heartily; but it feels good to come to someone’s rescue again.
He and Alisha’s relationship felt strange sometimes, outside the big heroic moments.
He wanted to feel useful, to be her hero, to save her; but she was always more capable than him, in some ways, and he thinks sometimes that maybe his feeling needed and her feeling dependent, even reliant on him were the same thing.
He wants to be there for her, but he doesn’t want another Sally, safe and locked away from the world. Or he doesn’t anymore. Yet.
Nathan on the other hand, has always been openly, hopelessly needy, always wanting something – money, a drink at the bar, to borrow cologne and clothes. He pretty much depended on Simon from day one, to do the planning, to protect them all, begging to be saved from the trouble he constantly finds himself in. It doesn’t feel like a power trip to, once again, come to his rescue.
Nathan greets him, dressed in a familiar orange jumpsuit, this one printed with D.O.C. instead of ‘COMMUNITY BLOWBACK’.
‘My arse is killing me!’
Simon looks mortified.
‘Nah, it’s not that. Jesus, Marnie's up there enough with her toy collection, your cock’s magical and everything, mate, but nothing’s touching the sides after that, some of those fuckers are this big.’ He gestures with his hands like a fisherman demonstrating the catch that got away.
Simon's expression shifts to the familiar shocked disgust, with a hint of amusement.
‘No, I had to shit out a rabbit! Poor little fella’s probably getting stewed up by some rednecks as we speak!’
Simon doesn’t really want to know, but he kind of has to ask. ‘…Why did you shit a rabbit?’
‘It was a distraction!
‘Did it work?’
‘Not unless these are a fashion statement, you twat.’
‘Why did you think shitting a rabbit would help?’ Simon keeps his voice deadpan, with effort, but his lips are twitching.
‘Hey, this is on you. You left me and Marnie in charge of the details? That's real genius. No one ever told me dices don't have sevens!’
Marnie cheerfully waves from the bed, cuddling the baby, as they enter the room. 'Sorry, Barry! I was never good at maths.'
'I was shitting myself in jail!'
Simon waits, nervously. With Nathan this could be literal or figurative.
'Thought I was gonna have to go in there all power bottom and marry a Nazi or something.'
Simon rolls his eyes. ‘Well, you can call off the engagement for now. The bail’s paid, although Seth's not happy. Neither’s Kelly, she says she'll, and I’m quoting verbatim here: “fly over and kick you in the balls” if you don't sort this.'
'Well, are they gonna deport us or what? The wedding’s in a month, my mum's coming over.'
‘It’s not about the money, it’s a category D felony –’ he can see Nathan’s eyes glaze over almost instantly. He tries to simplify even further. ‘Look, the bail’s fine, it’s only two grand.’
Nathan looks horrified, but then, he never had much of a head for money, considering how easily Seth scammed him at Christmas. Simon is therefore not too panicked about that debt, despite Kelly’s threats.
‘It’s more about a year in prison.’
Nathan gestures at his throat – cut it out!, but it’s too late. Marnie’s heard. She bursts in, holding the baby. ‘Um, excuse me, but what the FUCK?’ She bellows, hands over his tiny ears.
‘Hey, baby, it’s fine, we’ll get a lawyer. There were cards all over the men’s, we can have our pick of the best!’
Simon shuts his eyes. They’re still not getting it.
‘We have to be incredibly careful here. If they have any suspicions at all that this is anything more than a routine scam, they’ll run a check on you from the UK.’
‘What, and they’ll add an extra few months on there for stealing pic n’ mix?!’
‘No, they’ll realise that Nathan Young is legally dead. Your mum probably didn’t think to cancel your passport, hence how you got through the airport; but you were buried, she would have had to apply for a death certificate. Any fuss now, and they’ll investigate, and then you’re looking at serious fraud charge. Like, ten years serious.’
Nathan’s panicking now, arms flapping. ‘What the fuck do we do?!’
‘If they charge you, you can use your power to escape. But they’ll definitely be looking for you then, and I don’t think you can exactly get you three through LAS security, even warping reality. We need serious money. Enough for a new passport, fines, and bribes if anyone does pick up.’
‘You’re the one with the ideas here, mate!’
‘Look…forget the criminal thing. You were never that good at it.’ Simon smiles affectionately, but he can see that Nathan’s still literally biting his tongue in an effort not to retort. ‘Stick to your talents. I can sort the rest.’
‘Barry, what are you saying? Are you suggesting the two of us, teaming up?’ Nathan begins to smirk, finally cluing in.
‘Absolutely not,’ Simon says, firmly, but as Marnie and Nathan exchange glances, he can tell that the subject won’t be closed that easily.
*
Alisha calls. She, Kelly and Curtis have gotten six more weeks community service.
She’s always been unusually docile with Simon, as opposed to how she speaks to others, perhaps out of guilt over how she used to be at the beginning of service, perhaps to soothe his worries that she preferred his future self. And Simon hates confrontation, could never shout at her. However, this is the closest she’s ever sounded to angry. Worse though, is the little undercurrent of hurt:
‘Why aren’t you here?’
‘You said I should, give you…space’, he stutters, nervously.
‘I want us to be together. But we have to both want it. I know how much you’ve given up for me.’
At this, Simon’s startled. Alisha’s the one settling for him, as far as he’s concerned.
‘…How much you…he must have sacrificed to…go back, to save me.
But…I don’t want to be with you because I’m waiting for you to become someone you don’t want to be. And I don’t want you to be with me because you think I’m your only shot. I’m glad you’re not that person anymore, you’re happier. I’m happier.
There’s a guy here doing community service, we were at college together, and…well, it’s a long story. But you’re not the only one who doesn’t like your past.
I just think we need to…think about our future.’
Simon’s never really imagined a future.
Before community service, it was enough to imagine an escape, from school, his house, other people.
Sally and Jessica allowed him short daydreams, of a sex life, a girlfriend; but anything beyond that seemed too much to hope for.
And then he found out about his future self, that all his childhood dreams were going to come true – a home, a beautiful girlfriend, a chance to make the world a better place.
That it doesn’t last never seemed to matter – he spent twenty years without making much of an impact on anyone. The chance to save his friends, save Alisha, to be a hero is worth twenty more of staying that lonely boy.
The idea that there may be other options, that it’s not a flat choice, left or right, stasis or death makes him feel more like his old self than ever, terrified and queasy; the same way he feels holding the baby sometimes.
But then he thinks about his future self, what he came from. Why he came back for Alisha.
Somehow he doubts that he left a thriving relationship, a long marriage, to get shot in the past.
Maybe he was grieving, a broken man, desperate for just a little more time. But what if re-enacting their future is what ends up harming them both?
He loves Alisha, he’s never thought of being in a relationship with anyone else. If it saves her life, his own is a small price to pay; but he doesn’t want to be with her more than he wants her happy. Laughing with their friends. Travelling, like she’s talked about. Going to fashion college. Getting her licence back.
He doesn’t know what he wants for himself. Sally was the first person to ask, really, dangling editing internships, a career, a chance to start again in front of him; and look how that turned out.
He’s not sure he could go back to the photography, watching life behind a camera, the lonely hours spent on the computer editing; but then again, he took some shots for Marnie of the baby, which felt nice.
Not parkouring off a building, saving damsels in distress level important; just ordinary level nice, to make someone smile, using an ordinary skill; not the death-defying leaps and unexplainable knowledge of his future self. Not a big sacrifice, but Simon’s beginning to learn that sometimes it’s the smaller efforts that mean more.
The precognition skill Simon uses isn’t reliable, but Simon, invisibility or no, is a man who knows how to blend. Even the casino staff, who specialise in facial recognition, struggle to recall the alibis he offers.
With one big night, he could probably pay off the bail and the wedding; and sometimes he remembers how easy it was to rob the bank on Tim’s demands; but Marnie and Nathan Junior, powerless and reliant on Nathan, and therefore him saving Nathan once more, are a reminder for him to keep a tight rein on himself. He’s strict, and patient, switching games, hotels and casinos, never collecting wins in amounts that would attract undue attention.
The only indulgence he allows is occasionally stopping in to watch the show.
The stage suits Nathan, his natural element. He was always good at performing for a crowd, maintaining others’ attention, a flashy distraction allowing the others to hide in plain sight.
It worked during community service, and despite his desire to use his powers for good, Simon can’t bring himself to regret any of it. Nathan’s always wanted to entertain, to make others laugh, one of his more positive desires amongst the many selfish, disgusting and illegal ones he’d more swiftly admit to; and while the gigs are temporary, there’s more stability, and more motivation for him than his original plan of killing himself for profit.
All their powers got to them after a while, and while Simon’s relieved the responsibility for turning back time was with Curtis, the staidest of them; that it was Kelly, the strongest, who took the burden of other’s thoughts; he thinks Alisha and Nathan in some ways struggled the most, only able to view themselves as objects, whether of lust or destruction. Only able to use their powers by harm, whether to others or themselves. He saw ugliness to all of them during that time, including himself, and not all of it can be blamed on the powers, but now he thinks he’s seeing the inverse, the powers bringing something good out of all of them that hadn’t been given a chance to emerge.
He doesn’t know what the future holds, for any of them, but he doesn’t want to be reliant on being able to predict it. His future self may have needed the immunity, the armour, the insider information and the adoration; but while he’s not the man he thought he would be, he’s beginning to like the man he’s becoming.
