Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He had taped papers along the bar’s wall, forming a timeline. At the very front were himself and Tabitha; right behind, Miranda and Christopher; and at the very end, the beginning. He still couldn’t remember the names they’d had, nor who they’d been in between, but he intended to find out. Maybe one of them had an answer they still didn’t.

Tabitha had found a bracelet she was meant to make before, tucked away in the storage room, so he thought that would be a good place to start. Maybe there was some object—anything—that had belonged to him in another life.
“Another life.” The thought felt so strange. Though in this place, the word strange had lost its meaning.

He decided to update Boyd with the news, and he in turn shared what he had learned.
“Wait—” Jade cut him off. “Are you telling me you killed one of those fucking things?”
Boyd nodded.
“And that damn monster was reborn? From Fatima?!”
“That’s right.”

Jade poured himself a drink from the stash of liquor and downed it in one gulp.
“So you’ve got to rescue those kids,” Boyd said. “But how the hell are you going to do that? Aren’t they already dead?”
Jade didn’t answer. He poured another drink and stared hard at his timeline, with all its empty spaces.
“And… you didn’t remember anything else?”
“No… They weren’t memories, exactly. It was more like… a feeling.” He rubbed his chest with his knuckles. “The first time I saw those kids, I felt a fear I’d never felt in my life. But now I get it—it wasn’t fear of them, it was fear for them.” He looked at Boyd, searching for understanding. “I was terrified of what might happen to them. And then in the woods… I felt this—” his throat tightened—“this pain, mixed with… with a kind of love I’d never known. And rage, and helplessness for what had been done. And that’s when I knew…”

That girl was mine, he thought, but didn’t say. He drowned it with another drink.
“I wish I could tell you I saw everything clearly,” he added, “but I didn’t.”

Boyd sighed, wiping the sweat from his palms on his pants.
“And Tabitha?” he asked. “Did she see anything else?”
“I don’t know… After Jim’s death, we haven’t talked about it. Or about anything.”

Boyd poured himself a glass and held it in the air for a long moment.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that Jim was killed right after we learned all this?” he said.
“No fucking clue. Nothing in this shitty town feels strange anymore.”

---

Tabitha had little strength that week. No energy to leave the house, to talk to anyone, to think, or to fight Julie’s anger or comfort poor Ethan. She knew she had to push through, that this wasn’t a place where you could afford to fall apart—but everything was just… too much.

She managed to come downstairs to make herself tea. The kids weren’t home; the sun was still out, so she didn’t worry for now.

Someone knocked. She thought of pretending not to hear, but they insisted.
“Hi, sorry to bother you,” Bakta greeted, holding out a container of cooked vegetables. “Under different circumstances I’d make something more filling, but I hope this helps.” She handed it over.
“Thank you.”

Bakta lingered in the doorway, like she had something more to say.
“Look, I know it’s not a good time for you. But it seems like you and Jade are… close, right?”
You and Jade. Once, that sentence wouldn’t have sounded strange. She might even have questioned the word close. But now, with what she knew…
“Um, yeah, you could say that,” Tabitha replied. “Why? Did something happen? Did something happen to him?” Just the idea of losing someone again made her voice shake.
“No, no. Well—I don’t know.”

Bakta led her to the café. A few people were sitting around, enjoying a rare moment of normalcy. They headed into the storage room, where loud clattering echoed from inside. Tabitha entered, alarmed.

There was Jade, sitting on the floor, rummaging through boxes like a madman.
“Jade,” she called. “Jade!”
He froze and looked at her.
“Oh, you came out. Good. Come here, help me,” he said in his rushed, self-centered tone, like it didn’t matter that she’d lost her husband only a week ago.
“No. What are you doing?”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Bakta said before slipping away.

“Well, I thought—if you found that bracelet here, then maybe there are other things from other… lives, or reincarnations, or whatever the hell—” Jade gestured at the whole room.
“I recognized the bracelet because I kept making it again and again. How are we supposed to know what belonged to us?”
Jade shook his head, scratching his thick beard.
“I don’t know. But I have to try.”

Tabitha nodded, glancing at the room crammed with belongings left behind by those who had been there before.
“Fine,” she said.

She knew it was probably a pointless search, but still, she sat down next to Jade and began to look.

After a while, Jade finally looked at her, calmer.
“How have you been?” he asked.
Tabitha sighed.
“Well, let’s see. My husband was murdered, I don’t know where my kids are, and oh—I remembered that those monsters sacrificed my daughter five hundred years ago. So yeah. Pretty good.”
“Yeah, same.”

He pulled a short-sleeved shirt out of one box, held it up to himself, then tossed it aside.
“It’s starting to get hot,” he explained to Tabitha.

They kept searching through boxes and shelves, but found nothing—nothing they recognized, at least. Eventually Boyd rang the bell outside, and Bakta came in to tell them it was time to leave.
“Sorry about the mess. We’ll come back tomorrow and fix it,” Tabitha said.

They walked out of the café together. The townsfolk were returning to their houses, while the Colony House people made their way up the hill. That’s when she saw Julie and Ethan coming down.

“How are they holding up?” Jade asked.
“Honestly? I don’t know… I haven’t been much of a mother these days.”

Jade gently took her wrist.
“You’re doing what you can. Same as the rest of us.”

She met his gaze—and in that instant, an image flashed before her eyes. His eyes were a different color, but the look was the same. Just that look. And it gave her a feeling of protection, like he was saying, don’t worry, I’ve got you.

Jade noticed that she had seen something, but Ethan and Julie reached them before he could say anything.
“Did you figure out what the numbers were?” Ethan asked him.
Jade gave a quick glance at Tabitha.
“Uh, yeah. They were notes. Musical notes. Actually, it was your dad’s idea—that the numbers might be notes.”
“What good is a song gonna do?” Julie muttered, unimpressed.

Jade looked at her again. He wasn’t asking permission to tell them—he knew this wouldn’t be an easy story to share.
“I don’t know. But tomorrow I can go and show you.”

Ethan agreed, and they said goodbye.

On the way back home, as her son told her about his day, she glanced over her shoulder toward where Jade had gone. He, too, had looked back. He smiled at her, then walked on.

Chapter Text

Jade woke up drenched in sweat, feeling watched.
When he opened his eyes, the figure of Christopher stood right in front of him, holding the journal in his hands.
Unlike Tabitha—who had felt connected to Miranda—he had never felt that way about Christopher.
He shrank back on the bed, staring at the tall, broad figure of the man who was supposedly him.

“What? What the fuck are you trying to tell me?” he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty bar. “Please! Just—say it, just…”
His voice cracked, and Christopher vanished.
“Fuck!”

---

Tabitha thought she’d been the first to wake up, but when she came downstairs, she found Julie sitting on the couch, staring out the window with a half-finished cup of tea in her hands.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Julie turned toward her, then back to the window. Tabitha recognized that blank look—the same one she’d worn for weeks after Thomas died, as if she’d run out of emotion altogether. Her heart ached seeing it again, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Maybe, if they weren’t trapped in this hellhole, she’d take her daughter shopping or to the beach for the day. Of course, if they weren’t here, Jim wouldn’t be dead.

She adjusted the wool cardigan around her shoulders and sat beside her.
“Listen, honey, I feel like I owe you an apology. I… I haven’t really been here these past few days.”

Julie looked at her again, silent.

“And I also want to thank you,” Tabitha added softly, “for taking care of Ethan.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t disappear again. I love Ethan, but I’m not gonna be his mom.”
Julie set the cup on the coffee table, stood up, and left the house.

Tabitha sighed. She couldn’t expect more from her right now. But it hadn’t always been this way. Julie used to be a normal, happy teenager who loved her friends and her family. Her light had dimmed after Thomas died, and just when it had started to come back…

When Ethan woke up, Tabitha took him to the diner for breakfast. Bakta served him scrambled eggs and some fruit. Tabitha didn’t eat. She tried to cheer him up with jokes and stories from when he was little, managing to get a few small smiles out of him. Then, out of nowhere, he went quiet, staring at the ruins of their first house.

“I miss Dad,” he said, as if stating the most ordinary thing in the world.

“I know, sweetheart. Me too.”

Bakta noticed the sudden shift in his mood and came over.
“Hey, Ethan, how about helping me wash the breakfast dishes? Maybe we can start prepping lunch too, if you want,” she offered warmly.

He didn’t look thrilled, but he nodded anyway.

Tabitha helped gather a few plates, then spotted Jade stepping out of the bar. He looked around anxiously, running a hand through his hair, before turning and heading up the hill.

“Sweetheart, is it okay if you stay here for a bit?” she asked Ethan.

After he nodded and Bakta agreed to keep an eye on him, Tabitha followed the path Jade had taken.

It wasn’t hard to guess where he’d gone—there was only the forest and the car graveyard that way. The place always gave her chills: all those rusted, dirt-covered vehicles belonging to people who’d been trapped there before… including herself.

She stopped for a moment in front of Miranda’s truck, waiting for something—a memory, a feeling, anything.
Nothing came.

Jade’s idea about remembering their past lives kept echoing in her mind. Maybe he was right. Maybe if they remembered, they could finally find a way out.

She walked among the abandoned cars until she saw one with the door open. She didn’t need to guess—it had been Christopher’s. Jade sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“Jeez!” he exclaimed when he noticed her. “Are you fucking following me now?”

“You didn’t look okay.”

“I never look okay.”

She leaned against the back door while Jade stretched his legs out, staying seated.

“I saw Christopher again,” he said. “I woke up and he was just there.”
He extended his hand toward the windshield. “He was smiling at me, like I was supposed to understand something, but… I can’t. So I came here. Pointless, really—I’ve got nothing.”

“I tried too,” Tabitha admitted. “To remember. I’ve got nothing either.”

They sat in silence for a while. The sun was getting warmer, though the wind still bit cold. It was quieter there, but somehow even more unsettling.
She could tell he wanted to say something. When she looked over, he was staring at his hands, clearly holding something back.

“What is it? What happened?” she asked.

He shook his head, but she pressed gently, “Jade, please. Talk to me.”

He exhaled shakily and finally spoke, his voice trembling.
“The first time Victor brought me here… he told me that when Christopher started seeing the symbol, he changed. And one night, Miranda told him to hide somewhere Christopher didn’t know.” He paused. “That was the night they all died. And I can’t stop thinking… what the fuck happened? What was so awful that… what did I do? And what if it happens again?” His voice broke into a sob.

“No.” Tabitha knelt in front of him and, without thinking, took his hands in hers. “We don’t know what happened that night. But if Christopher did something, it was this place messing with his head—like it did with Sarah, and with Elgin.”

“And what’s gonna stop it from happening again?”

Tabitha looked at him and saw the same eyes she’d seen the other day—but now with the haunted, terrified look Jade wore.

“Me,” she said without hesitation. “I don’t know who we were back then, but right now, we’re in this together. I won’t let this fucked-up town do that to you.”

She didn’t know where those words came from, but she knew they were true.
Jade took a deep breath, his gaze locked on hers.

“But if it does…”

“It won’t.”

“But if it does! You have to promise me you’ll do whatever you have to—so no one gets hurt because of me.”

“Jade…” she sighed.

“Please, Tabitha. Promise me.”

She nodded, but she didn’t say the words. The truth was, she couldn’t.

Somehow, she felt he was part of her—connected. Not in a romantic way, but in something deeper, indescribable. Ever since that afternoon in the woods, there was a thread between them.
One that had always been there.