Timeless

Epilogue

Epilogue

Waking up was the hardest thing Ri ever had to do. At first, she thought she'd survived. But then the bright white of the room and the presence of her mom, Austin, and Fiona told her otherwise. She was in the hospital, she'd been in a coma, only for a couple of days it'd seemed. And while her mother and siblings cried in relief at having her back, Ri cried in relief for what she had lost, for what was left behind.

"Was it really a dream?" Fiona asked when their mom stepped out to talk to the doctor and it was just the three of them.

"No way," Austin seemed so sure. "What you and Ri described is exactly what I experience, there's no way we all could've had the same coma dream!"

"Folie A Deux," Ri shrugged. "Or trois in this case. It's a French term for 'shared illusion'. So . . . it's not impossible that it was all just some weird shared psychosis."

"Well, then shouldn't we tell someone? If it was that real to us, and we all three experienced it, then shouldn't we tell the doctor? Get medicated?" Fiona asked.

"No," Ri shook her head. "It's bad enough sitting here with this needle in my arm. If we tell them about this they'll run tests, experiments," she shivered. "I'm not going through that again. If you need to tell them, say you and Austin shared the dream, but please, leave me out of it."

"We won't tell," Austin promised. "About any of it, no body will know."

"I don't want to be tested," Fiona clasped Ri's hand, held it close.

"Okay," Ri nodded. "So, you woke up yesterday," she turned to Austin, "and you woke up the day before. And they've already let you out of your beds? What's been going on?"

"Well, you probably guessed that we're here because of the car crash," Fi explained.

"Sorry," Austin looked sheepish.

"They said it was a miracle that we were unharmed, but they couldn't wake us up," Fi continued. "It's only been a week since then, but they've kept us monitored since we woke up. Mom brought us clothes and we were allowed to sit with you, but that's about it. She brought us your journals," Fi held up the one addressed to her. Austin produced his. "I had to tell her where they were, but she brought them, and . . . well, I haven't finished it, but . . ."

"I'm sorry!" Austin fell on Ri, hugging her tightly and sobbing into her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, for everything! I'm so so sorry!"

"It's okay," Ri comforted him. "Everything's alright."

Shaw groaned, rolling his shoulders as he raised his head. He had a blistering headache, and his whole body felt as though it'd been beaten into dust. He groped in his pocket, fished out his phone, and answered it before the ringing made his hangover any worse.

"H'llo," Shaw mumbled, sinking back into his bed.

"You sound horrible," a voice snickered on the other line.

"Feel worse," Shaw had to work to keep the accent out of his voice. He was American now, or he supposed he'd always been, in this lifetime anyway. But a few days ago he'd awoken from a similar hangover with memories of another lifetime, another life, all intermingling with memories of this one. Ever since, it'd been hard to keep the Scottish out of his voice. "What'd'ye want, Martinez?" Shaw growled.