Rewind: A Time Travel Romance

by Amelia Rockwell

  "I'm leaving in four days and you won't ever see me again," she reminded him.

  He frowned, swallowing hard. "I know..." He trailed off for a moment, letting her words sink in. "What? Not ever?"

  Her eyes widened. "I... I mean... you won't see me like... this... again..." She gestured vaguely to herself before pressing her lips together and made another grab for her shirt. He tugged it back further.

  "Am I in your future, Suze?"

  "Phillip asked me not to--"

  "I don't give a shit what he asked you to do. Am I in your future?"

  She opened her mouth and closed it again a few times, looking like a fish out of water as she fought to find the most delicate way to not answer his question. "I..."

  He felt the blood rushing through his head as he watched her flounder. "I have a right to know, Suze. I think I do, at any rate. After... everything."

  She sighed heavily, shaking her head. "You have a right to a lot of things, Matthew. I just don't think I should tell you this."

  "Look. This isn't about Phillip or your 'mission' or anything. This is about you and me and I need to know what I'm in for after you leave."

  Suzannah sighed again, but this time she spoke, her words clear as crystal. "I've never met you before. Never even seen you in person. I've seen pictures of you. But, this is the first and only time I've actually met you."

  "Am I dead?"

  She shrugged. "I have no idea. All I know, is that you go missing... sometime this week actually, never to be seen again."

  He sat back hard on the bed, letting the shirt drop into his lap. "Missing? Like... missing-missing? Maybe I..." He trailed off and shook his head. "What could have happened?"

  She shook her head. "I don't know... I'm sorry." Suzannah sat back with him. "I'm sorry I let it slip. I really am." She covered her face with her hands. "I was the wrong person to send back in time. But for some STUPID reason, Phillip from my time insisted that it should be me."

  "He must think highly of you, then. He doesn't ever do anything without a good reason."

  "I don't know why... I'm not even trained in this. This isn't even my field of expertise. Telling people their futures when I should not be given that kind of authority or power. I mean, honestly... if Phillip didn't distinctly remember meeting me... gods...it was only supposed to be for seven minutes this time. But give me a week and I screw it all to hell."

  "You haven't messed anything up, Suze..."

  She shook her head and reached for her shirt. She pulled it over her head and stood up, making her way to the door.

  "Where are ya going?" he asked.

  "Out. I'm just...I need to think."

  "What about your blood samples?" he asked, zipping up beside her. "We can still get those. Hell, I'll even throw in one of mine... since you seem to need it so badly."

  "It's to save the world," she insisted. "I promise, that's why."

  "How?" he asked. "Tell me how?"

  She reached for her pants, tugging them on. "There's this... super virus... no vaccine is available because of the nature of the sickness. We aren't able to get blood samples from the victims. But you," she pointed. "You beautiful idiot. You injected yourself with a bunch of stuff. Phillip knows one of those things was an early version of the virus. We don't know if you built up an immunity, but it's the only shot we have. I need a sample of your blood to try and make a vaccine."

  "Okay," he nodded. "Okay. Let's go. Do that. We'll take a sample of my blood... a few vials? And we'll put it in cryo and then you'll have fulfilled your purpose, right?"

  "I wasn't supposed to tell you what happens to you."

  "Nothing I can do to change it right? Fixed timelines, like Phil said."

  She nodded. "Right."

  "Then, I've got nothing to worry about. We can just have fun until you have to leave." The thought of her leaving left a lump in his throat. But he just swallowed it down and ignored it the same as he ignored the fact that he was supposed to go missing. One way or another, it seemed, they were never meant to have long time together. He wanted to make the most of what they had.

  She nodded once. "Okay, yeah. Okay..."

  "We could just... go see a movie or something?" he offered.

  She laughed. "I thought we'd just be... kind of... 'spending the night' with each other." She reached over to poke his bare stomach.

  He smirked. "We can't do that all day. Especially not in Phillip's guest room."

  "Okay, fine. What movie are we seeing?" she asked.

  "Umm... Dirty Dancing and The Princess Bride are both still playing, so... whichever one you want..."

  "Is there any way we can go see them both?" she asked, taking his hand.

  "Sure. I'm down for a double feature."

  "And don't worry about the tickets. It's my treat," she assured him. "Or Phillip's, I guess. But I will definitely pay him back in thirty years, so yeah. My treat."

  "I'm buying the popcorn, then," he said suddenly. He wasn't really bothered that she was buying the tickets, but the desire to do something for her was kind of intense at that precise moment.

  "I get my own bucket, sticky fingers."

  "Ouch. Cha-ching. You're not a cheap date, are you?" He tugged her back down in bed with him.

  She shrugged. "I dunno. This is pretty inexpensive..."

  "Oh, is this a date?" he asked, his stomach swooping again at the thought.

  "Feels like one," she said. "I'm nervous as hell, worried I screwed everything up, and we're snuggling. Yep. That's the trifecta of Suzannah Jack on a date."

  He tightened his hold on her fingers, "You didn't screw anything up."

  "Feels like I did... I have this gross feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I can't stop thinking about..." she paused. "I just can't stop thinking. It's a problem, okay? I'm aware of it. And it's fine. It wouldn't be much of a fling if it wasn't at least a little dangerous," she said with a small smile.

  "Is that what this is?"

  "It's what it's gonna have to be."

  He let his tongue run over his teeth. "I haven't flung anyone in a long time...might be a bit rusty."

  "Same. Mind the bats if you plan on spelunking."

  He laughed. "Spelunking... is that what they call it in the future?"

  "I'm pretty sure no one calls it that. I'm just horribly awkward, sorry."

  He shook his head. "You're not. I think you're... I hesitate to say funny. But I think you're funny."

  "Glad someone does..."

  "So are we flinging?" he asked.

  "So long as it doesn't destroy the time-space continuum. Then yeah. Fling away."

  "And spelunk?" he added.

  She bumped into him with her shoulder in response. "Yeah. Flinging and spelunking."

  ~ Chapter Five ~

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  ~ June 30, 2017, 2:47 a.m ~

  ----------

  Henry

  "Henry..." Barry sighed, rolling his head around on his shoulders for a moment. "We're all exhausted. We'd do well to take a break. A nap, if you will. There isn't much left to do, but what is left is critical... we should at least attempt to be rested."

  "So rest," Henry snapped, rubbing her eyes and cursing when one of her contacts fell out, sticking to her hand. "But first, hand me my purse."

  She had a contact case and saline solution in there somewhere. Not to mention a couple pairs of glasses.

  He passed it to her and she got both of the contacts into the case with little trouble. She squinted over in his direction, expecting to find him leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, or even with his head down on the desk. But he wasn't resting. He wasn't even moving. He was just staring at her expectantly.

  "You can go, Barry. I'm fine."

  "But you're not," he insisted, his tone taking on that of the Barry who had asked her out to coffee once. Not that they'd gone. He'd never followed through through with definitive plans. "Henry..."

  She jammed her glasses onto her nose and ign
ored him.

  "Henry, you can talk to me," Barry pushed, his hand reaching out and stopping just shy of hers.

  "I'm losing this battle."

  Saying the words felt freeing somehow. Yet she was still consumed by dread, which felt a lot like a stone in her stomach.

  "No you're not, you're one of the smartest people I know, Henry. You're going to figure this out, just like you figure everything else out."

  Henry shook her head. "Did you know, I didn't like her at first? Suzannah? But now... She's a friend. What if she's stuck in the past forever?"

  "Phillip wouldn't be so blasé about it if she were." Barry's hand closed around Henry's, without the hesitation she usually came to expect from him. She never knew why he was so skittish around her. He had no need to be. His touch was warm and comforting. She twisted her wrist so her palm lay flat against his, lightly lacing their fingers.

  "I suppose you're right. I just... I know what she's doing is important, but..." Henry took a deep breath. "I've been selfish. And... I'm still being selfish. I don't care about what she's doing, I just want her back here safe."

  "Everyone wants her back safe," Barry assured her.

  "Yeah, but if I could figure out a way to bring her back right now? I'd do it. That missing guy's antibodies be damned... What she wanted to accomplish be damned too." She shot him a knowing look. "See? I'm totally selfish."

  "You can be worried about a friend, but still support a colleague's mission as well."

  "That's what I'm trying to do here," she confessed. "I want to get her back, but I know she wants to find what she's looking for. So, I'm gonna do that."

  "You will. And she will. I can tell, and if you weren't so stressed, so could you, just based on how Dr. Slone's reacting. But I think you do need to rest. So you don't miss any of my mistakes." Barry smiled, a soft sort of gesture, a wry attempt at a joke.

  She nodded, standing up so she could go crash on the sofa in her office. As she made her way to the door, Barry dropped her hand and slipped from her fingers. She paused, turning to face him again.

  "She's only getting a blood sample right? A week should be plenty of time for that. I wonder why her original mission was for a month?"

  He looked down, brown eyes darting before he caught her gaze again. "Phillip only tells me what he thinks I should know."

  It was a statement so vague that she couldn't find fault with it. Of course, it was also ambiguous enough it could mean anything. Was Phillip informing her assistant of anything before her? Did Barry know something she didn't, something he was purposefully avoiding talking about?

  The wheels in Henry's head began turning, thinking about how his eyes had shifted and how his words seemed carefully chosen to be the complete truth without actually answering her question.

  There was something Barry wasn't telling her. There was a lot he wasn't telling her.

  So maybe it was time to ask someone else. She wondered if there was a way to wake up Phillip at this hour...

  ----------

  ~September 30, 1987, a little after 9 a.m ~

  ----------

  Suzannah

  Suzannah's stomach was full of butterflies, and not just because she'd fallen into bed with Matthew again, either. Even though it took her longer than she'd care to admit to shake off that feeling. Especially since it wasn't so much a fall as a very purposeful, running leap.

  She lay face down on the bed, the sheets tangled around both of them as the afternoon sun streamed in through the window.

  Matthew's hand on her back was nice. He ran his fingers through her hair. Seriously, everything he did was so nice and tender and just...

  ... Reminded her of the fact that she'd be leaving him forever in a few days' time.

  This was the saddest fling she'd ever had.

  She wished she could spare herself some of the pain she knew was coming. It should have been so easy to avoid, too, if she'd just stopped this thing before it started. But she couldn't stop. Not if her life depended on it.

  He was a good kisser, what could she say? He was good at other things too, but holy hell, he gave excellent lip service. Her own mouth was even a little sore this morning. Turns out he was a nibbler. Not a bad trait at all, mind you. But ... this was a high school problem, wasn't it? Not a problem thirty-year-olds had, right?

  She supposed thirty-year-olds who were time-travelling and didn't want the baggage that came with sleeping with someone in the past might possibly have this problem. No matter how much of it was piling up at the front door.

  Even the thought of all that potential baggage wasn't really putting off her desire to jump his bones again. Repeatedly. As many times as they could before she had to leave.

  Even now, when she was fairly certain her libido should had been satisfied enough to last her another couple of years' worth of a dry spell, she still kind of wanted to push him down in the sheets here and just... make him forget his name.

  Was that gross, she wondered? This was just about sex, after all. This was lust. She was lusting after a guy who was technically thirty years older than her. He could for real be her father, if, you know, she didn't know who her father was and where he was at this precise moment.

  But did it count if they were the same age currently? Because they totally were. Technically.

  "You okay, gorgeous?" Matthew asked from his side of the bed. He rolled over to fold around her body, his leg hiking up over the swell of her buttocks. "You're awfully quiet."

  She took a deep breath and turned over to better face him, straightening her back as she did. "I'm fine. Just definitely... definitely committing that last session to the permanent memory banks.."

  He smiled and slipped his arm around her waist and leaned over to kiss her softly on the lips.

  "Is it bad that I..." he trailed off. "I'm gonna miss you, Suze."

  "It's not bad to miss someone. But you know that. Which tells me that you changed what you were going to say mid-sentence. And that's totally fine, sweet cheeks."

  He smiled, a sort of half smile-half smirk sort of thing. "So it's okay for you to call me sweet cheeks, but I can't call you that?"

  She felt a blush creeping up on her cheeks. "You can call me whatever you want, Matthew."

  "How about I just call you mine and be done with it?" he asked, grinning before he nuzzled her neck.

  His words made her ache. And not in the sexy, fun way, either. In the longing, pining, realizing-that-this-relationship-had-an-expiration-date kind of way.

  "You can't keep saying stuff like that."

  "Why not? It makes you blush. Which is mega cute."

  "Because... It makes me not want to leave. And I definitely have to leave."

  He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, releasing after a few seconds with a soft pop. "I wish you didn't have to... that's what I was gonna say earlier."

  She wanted to reciprocate the sentiment, but it made her have feelings. Deep feelings stirring up in her belly and she couldn't have those feelings. Not for Matthew. Not for him.

  Plus, she couldn't stay here. She already existed here. As a baby, but still. There was too much of a chance that she'd run into her past self and rip a hole in the entire universe.

  Sigh... semantics.

  She inhaled sharply and allowed her head to loll back, giving him more access to the column of her throat, of which he readily took advantage. "What time is it?" she murmured.

  He cleared his throat and glanced down at his watch. "Just after one p.m."

  "Great. What time are we going to the movies, lover?"

  He looked up at her, his brown eyes warm as he took in her flushed appearance. "Lover?"

  Her heart beat loudly in her chest, her blood rushed in her head as she gulped. Nodded.

  "Now you're the one who's saying things you shouldn't," he whispered, capturing her lips in a kiss so searing that it made her brain start to short circuit. Which was probably for the best. Nothing good was going to come of this conversation.<
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  ----------

  "You okay? We don't have to go see a movie if you're not feeling up to it," Matthew jutted his thumb behind him towards the theater.

  Suzannah smiled. "No, I actually want to. Been kind of looking forward to it all day."

  Though she'd seen them many times, the movies, as it turned out, were actually better in the theater, if that was possible.

  They didn't talk much during the first movie. Matthew was kind of enthralled, and far be it for Suzannah to mess up someone's first time with The Princess Bride. More conversation was had during Dirty Dancing, though.

  "Oh my god, I used to watch this at all my sleepovers," Suzannah said, leaning over to whisper. "I had the soundtrack."

  "It's a good soundtrack," Matthew admitted. "My mom had a lot of these records."

  Suzannah quieted for a moment. It was the first time he'd ever mentioned his family. "Has your mom seen this movie?"

  Matthew chuckled and shook his head. "Nah. She and dad passed away five years ago." He paused, as though thinking on them a moment. "She'd have liked it though."

  "Sorry..." she said softly, reaching for his hand. He hesitated for a moment before he gave it to her, lacing their fingers.

  "If it's cool with you, I'd rather not talk about it, okay?" he whispered softly, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand. "We're gonna have enough sadness in our near future, we don't need this on top of it."

  "Sure," she said, blinking back the hot tears that threatened to spill.

  He leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "Don't think about that right now. Ask me something else."

  She attempted a grin and asked him the first question she could think of. "You ever bring other girls to the movies?"

  "No, Suzannah. You're my first one. Ever. Did I mention? I'm a virgin and I've never kissed anyone before you."

  She rolled her eyes. "You know what I'm fishing for, smart ass."

  "I haven't brought any other girls to this movie. This movie belongs to you, gorgeous. This one and the other one,too."