Like a drowning man I clung to the railing of the terrace, that connect the motel rooms on the second floor.
Breath! Just take a deep breath. Everything is fine.... OH WHO THE FUCK AM I KIDDING?! NOTHING is FINE!
Having just heard from Peter that there was no way to get rid of my timetraveling powers and that I had to use it, because otherwise losing control was inevitable, had been a huge shock. Even more so because just two days ago I had still thought that all this was just in my head. But now that the truth finally had really sunken in I definitely wished I had never agreed to go with them.
Maybe I can as Peter to bring me back in time, so I can keep myself from ever even listening to them. I thought and leaned my forehead against the cold metal of the railing.
"Remember what the doc said. Happy thoughts. Think about your happy place." I mumbled while trying to invision my little paradise. The first time the doctor had told me about the technic I thought it was silly but after having tried it a few times and figuring out what I wanted it to look like, it had become a huge help for when I got too overwhelmed.
I imagined the feeling of sunlight warming my body, in an attempt to forget that in actuality I was shivering in the cold autumn night. "Breath Felix. Deep breaths." I told myself and tried to concentrated even more on the blue sky, the colorful flower fields that surrounded the small cottage upon the hill and the gravel path that lead to it. It took another moment but then I was also able to drown out the shouting that was coming from our motel room and with the calming sound of chirping birds and buzzing of bees.
I breathed a sigh of relief when my mind started to clear and my body relax.
But this peace didn't last long because just a few moments loter I heard the door to our room, opened and then was slammed shut. I opened my eyes and turned my head to see what was going on. But all I saw was Preston storming down the stairs in a huff. For a moment I contemplated if I should just ignore there little marital quarrel but then I decided against it and instead went back to the room, thinking that dealing with Peter was probably easier then handling an emotionally charged Preston.
When I entered the room I saw Peter crouching infront of the minibar, starring intensely at the small assortment of various alcohol bottles. At first glance he seemed as calm as ever but I just couldn't shake off the feeling that still something was off about him.
He didn't even seem to notice me and just keeped on staring into the fridge, almost as if he was contemplating something.
"Uhm are you okay?"
"Yeah. Peachy." He grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose, before he then grabbed a liquor bottle and stood up. When he poured himself a glass I noticed that his hands were shaking and that behind his stone cold facade seemed to rage a storm of emotions. I nibbled on my lower lip, contemplating if I should ask him again but the reminded myself that it was probably not my place to interrogate him.
Sure we had spent a few months in the same asylum, but because I had tried to avoid him as much as possible I hardly knew him. Even if there weren't the issue of his gaze making me feel strange, there was still his stone faced, unapproachable demeanor that made me think that he didn't even wanted me to get to know him.
After a moment of just starting at the glass in his hand he slowly lifted it to his lips and took a big gulp of the honey colored liquid.
He sighed, sounding as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders and then set down on one of the beds, seemingly.
Even though he seemed now more relaxed I still couldn't shake of the feeling that something was wrong.
Shit what am I suppose to say? He is clearly not okay. Argh... Preston probably would exactly know what to do. I hope he comes back soon... I mean he will come back, right? I thought and looked toward the door hoping the dark skinned man hadn't left for good.
"Don't worry he will come back. He always does." Peter grumbled, almost as if he had read my mind and took a swig straight from the bottle, no longer even bothering to use the glass. "I uhm... I wasn't thinking about him." I lied, trying not to make it obvious how worried I actually was. But from the look on his face it was clear to me that he didn't buy it. "Fine. Yes I'm worried. But can you blame me? You two are the only people I know out here and... to be honest I feel kinda... lost?"
"Lost?"
"Yeah." I reaffirmed and took a deep breath before continuing to speak, "Since I was a kid I was made to believe that I'm crazy. But now you are telling me that I'm not and that timetraveling is real. Like seriously timetrave?" I shook my head and walked over to him to set down next to him. "And also that I can't even get rid of it... it's" The words got stuck in my throat and I felt myself tearing up. Peter beside me took another gulp from the bottle and then asked why I was even so afraid of my powers. "Believe me if you had seen what I saw you wouldn't want to go to the future either." I explained and added barely loud enough for him to hear, "There is nothing but death and destruction." After an awkward moment of silence Peter suddenly spoke up, "Show me."
"WHAT?"
"Show. Me." He repeated accentuating both words as if I was too dumb to have understood him the first time he had said it. I shook my head in disbelieve. "Hell no! Did you not listen ? It's way to dangerous!" I exclaimed, furious that he would even ask for something like that even though I had already warned him.
Calmly he took another sip from the bottle and then looked at me, his gaze sending shivers down my spine. "Do you think the past isn't?" He retorted, sounding even colder then usal.
At first I was confused by his question but then I remembered our trip to the past. With those memories in mind I had to admit that it wasn't really save either.
Well he got a point but the future is still way more dangerous than the past. After all the past is already set in stone, so all you had to do was read about it to know what you were getting yourself into but the future was something else. Nobody could exactly predict what was going to happen or when exactly things would take place.
"Do you wanna know how my first time was?" The blond suddenly asked, snapping me back to reality. Unsure of what he meant by 'first time' I hesitated for a moment but in the end my curiosity got the better of me and I said yes.
He quickly took gulp from the bottle and then started telling me about it. "I was eight and on a school trip in Gettysburg, when my power manifested for the first time. I had no idea what was happening or any control over where I would end up. Can you imagine in what kind of hell I woke up in?" For moment he stopped, making me worry if I should say something but then I figured that his question was most likely rhetorical and that I instead should just keeped quiet and wait for him to continue speaking.
After taking another gulp from the bottle he finally started talking again, "I ended up on the battlefield in Gettysburg on the second July 1863!" His usually monotone, deep voice was now shaky and filled with so much anger. Hell, even his stone-faced facade had crumbled, showing me for the first time that he actually was able to show emotions.
I tried to understand what was making him so emotional or what was so special about that day and place but no matter how much I brood I just couldn't figure it out. With no other option left I hesitantly asked why it had been so horrible.
For a moment he looked at me as if I was insane but when he noticed that my question had been genuine he chuckled, "They really didn't teach you shit in there, huh?" Then he suddenly stood up, emptied the rest of the whiskey bottle and walked over to the door. "Let's go and see what the future holds for us." He loudly exclaimed and went outside, without even giving me so much as a chance to argue against it.
A/N: If you could travel through time once where would you travel to?
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