Lost Fic: Time Enough at Last (Daniel/Charlotte)
Title: Time Enough at Last
Pairing: Daniel/Charlotte (a bit of Daniel/Theresa)
Rating: PG-13 (character death)
Words: 1,376
Disclaimer: Not mine. Title from The Twilight Zone.
Summary: He takes to slipping into his room and bolting the door every afternoon, locking himself away with nothing but his memories and his machine.
A/N: Written for valhalla37 who asked for Daniel/Charlotte + “haunted by lost loves.” Happy Halloween, my dear! <3
The accumulation of parts begins slowly. A bit of wire here, a stray scrap of metal there, but it doesn’t take it long to escalate. Soon Daniel’s dragging in yards of tubing and tools he’s “borrowed” from the motor pool. They all watch him with concern at first---Juliet speaks to him in hushed tones, tells him if he needs to talk the only thing he has to do is ask, Miles drags him out for a beer, Jim gives him busy work, and Jin just sits with him quietly, not saying or doing anything at all.
Their concern is touching, but it’s also distracting. Daniel knows time is not something to be wasted so he takes to slipping into his room and bolting the door every afternoon, locking himself away with nothing but his memories and his machine.
*
It’s better than his first idea. Sending your consciousness through time with no control of the outcome---it was sloppy. The reliance on a constant was dangerous. No this is simpler, safer. At least that’s what he tells himself as he prepares for the first test.
He thinks of capturing a field mouse for the trial run, but from his bedroom window he can see the children playing in front of the school and every flash of red hair makes his heart beat faster. He doesn’t want to wait any longer.
The machine is a monstrous thing. Not overly large, but there are thirteen dials and dozens of wires snaking out from it’s core racing their way up to a helmet where they connect to dozens of pins designed to react to the electrical impulses of the user’s brain. Daniel acknowledges that the risk of electrocution is highly probable. In another time, in his own time, he could do better. But his materials are primitive; he only hopes that the results are not.
He listens intently for a moment until he he’s sure the house is empty before easing the helmet onto his head. The pins nip painfully at his scalp as he flips the first switch, bringing his creation to life with a sudden mechanical whir. His body is seized by a tremor as the first shock hits him. He feels his heart seize in his chest, and his vision blurs. He gasps for breath, his fingers searching for the switch, panic setting in until suddenly his heart begins to beat again---erratic but strong---and his eyes drift shut.
*
Theresa is sitting on the lawn in front of the science building, her mass of curls pulled away from her face in a complicated bun. She’s studying; her head is bent over a book, brow furrowed in concentration. Even from here, Daniel can see the teeth marks on her pencil.
This is when they meet. If he had a mirror, he knows he would see himself, younger and scrawnier, hair too long, white shirt smudged with ink stains. He’s just a boy. And for the moment she’s just a girl. He’s going to walk over there and stammer out her name, blush as he asks her to assist him with a project.
She’ll grin up at him, extend a hand, say---I’d love to help you, Daniel.
And her hand, it’ll be so warm, so soft, but there will be a burn, small and shaped like a strawberry---lab accident, it’s a long story, maybe I’ll tell you over coffee sometime, yeah?
He remembers all of this. He remembers it so clearly. The first moment of his first love. He could stop it, he could save her---
*
He comes to with a jolt. He blinks, tries to focus on the here and the now, but the machine pulls him away again, to another day, another afternoon.
There’s too much sun. His skin is turning redder by the second and the motion of the waves is making his stomach churn. Out of nowhere, he feels the cool press of a hand against his back.
“Got your sea legs, yet?”
Daniel shakes his head, tries to hold back the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“Charlotte?”
“Daniel?” she teases. “We just spent three hours on a horrible excuse for a plane, love. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my name already?”
He shakes his head, his fingers searching out her hand.
“No…no…of course not…I…”
She doesn’t pull away. She should. She’s supposed to. Gently, but firmly removing his hand. But she doesn’t, she steps closer.
“You alright, Dan?”
The freighter hasn’t left the dock. There’s still time. He can change things. He knows he can. He begins tugging her towards the steps, praying silently that he’s not jerked away from her before they get off.
“Daniel, stop. Stop!”
Charlotte digs her heals in, forcing him to stand still.
“Please,” he begs. “I’ll explain later, but we have to get off the freighter.”
She smiles at him gently, lets her hand rest against his cheek.
“It won’t change anything. You know that.”
“It will…”
“This isn’t real,” she whispers. “I’m not real.”
“Yes…yes, you are. You’re real because I remember you, I remember this day, I remember all of our days…it’s in my head. As long as it’s there…as long as I don’t lose it…it’s real. We’ll be happy, Charlotte, so, so happy. You just have to trust me.”
She sighs, presses a kiss against his lips.
“This won’t bring me back.”
“No…but it’ll bring me here.”
*
Miles finds Daniel three hours later. The acrid scent of electrical burn overwhelms him the moment he comes home. He takes small comfort from the fact that if Daniel was dead he’d know it.
For once, Daniel’s room isn’t dead bolted. Miles pushes the door open and swears.
Daniel is slouched in front him attached to some sort of freaky ass Dr. Frankenstein bullshit, blood oozing from his nose.
“Dan? Can you hear me? Fuck…”
Miles reaches for the closest dial, but the moment he touches it he pulls his hand away with a hiss. The machine is smoldering.
He reaches instead for the helmet, but every tug seems to cause Daniel distress. His face contorts, his fingers twitch involuntary. Miles rests a hand on his knee.
“What’d you do, buddy? What the hell did you do?”
*
The science is more advanced than anything Dr. Chang has ever seen. Time travel on the small scale, he explains, time travel within your own mind that allows the user to create a reality out of their own memories, shaping and reforming a world to your own satisfaction.
Remarkable, he mutters over and over as Daniel lies in a hospital bed, hooked to his dying machine.
“Is he gonna come out of this or not, Doc?” Jim asks.
Chang shakes his head and Miles realizes where his impatience for bullshit came from.
“I’m afraid not. As long as I can keep the machine running, your friend will stay suspended in his own mind. But when it stops, and it will stop, he’ll go with it.”
Jim and Miles exchange a quick look. They both know where he is, they both know why. Daniel’s smarter than a whole team of Dharma scientists, he knew what he was getting into and they know he must have thought it was worth it.
“Give him as much time as you can,” Jim says grimly.
*
Daniel sits at a piano in his house in Massachusetts, a little boy balanced on his knee. He takes the child’s uncoordinated little hands and presses them against the keys. Together they bang out “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” as Charlotte hums along beside them, her head resting on Daniel’s shoulder.
“He’s almost as good as his dad,” she teases.
Daniel smiles.
“He’s better.”
*
The machine stops on a hot July afternoon at 4:23, two months after it began.
Miles bends his head over his friend’s body. He closes his eyes, wondering what he’ll see. At first it’s only darkness, the psychic equivalent of dead air. Then he feels it, an overwhelming sense of happiness and peace. He hears at the edges, a quick burst of laughter, sees a flash of red hair.
Satisfied, he runs a hand over Daniel’s unseeing eyes, closing them for the last time.
Pairing: Daniel/Charlotte (a bit of Daniel/Theresa)
Rating: PG-13 (character death)
Words: 1,376
Disclaimer: Not mine. Title from The Twilight Zone.
Summary: He takes to slipping into his room and bolting the door every afternoon, locking himself away with nothing but his memories and his machine.
A/N: Written for valhalla37 who asked for Daniel/Charlotte + “haunted by lost loves.” Happy Halloween, my dear! <3
The accumulation of parts begins slowly. A bit of wire here, a stray scrap of metal there, but it doesn’t take it long to escalate. Soon Daniel’s dragging in yards of tubing and tools he’s “borrowed” from the motor pool. They all watch him with concern at first---Juliet speaks to him in hushed tones, tells him if he needs to talk the only thing he has to do is ask, Miles drags him out for a beer, Jim gives him busy work, and Jin just sits with him quietly, not saying or doing anything at all.
Their concern is touching, but it’s also distracting. Daniel knows time is not something to be wasted so he takes to slipping into his room and bolting the door every afternoon, locking himself away with nothing but his memories and his machine.
*
It’s better than his first idea. Sending your consciousness through time with no control of the outcome---it was sloppy. The reliance on a constant was dangerous. No this is simpler, safer. At least that’s what he tells himself as he prepares for the first test.
He thinks of capturing a field mouse for the trial run, but from his bedroom window he can see the children playing in front of the school and every flash of red hair makes his heart beat faster. He doesn’t want to wait any longer.
The machine is a monstrous thing. Not overly large, but there are thirteen dials and dozens of wires snaking out from it’s core racing their way up to a helmet where they connect to dozens of pins designed to react to the electrical impulses of the user’s brain. Daniel acknowledges that the risk of electrocution is highly probable. In another time, in his own time, he could do better. But his materials are primitive; he only hopes that the results are not.
He listens intently for a moment until he he’s sure the house is empty before easing the helmet onto his head. The pins nip painfully at his scalp as he flips the first switch, bringing his creation to life with a sudden mechanical whir. His body is seized by a tremor as the first shock hits him. He feels his heart seize in his chest, and his vision blurs. He gasps for breath, his fingers searching for the switch, panic setting in until suddenly his heart begins to beat again---erratic but strong---and his eyes drift shut.
*
Theresa is sitting on the lawn in front of the science building, her mass of curls pulled away from her face in a complicated bun. She’s studying; her head is bent over a book, brow furrowed in concentration. Even from here, Daniel can see the teeth marks on her pencil.
This is when they meet. If he had a mirror, he knows he would see himself, younger and scrawnier, hair too long, white shirt smudged with ink stains. He’s just a boy. And for the moment she’s just a girl. He’s going to walk over there and stammer out her name, blush as he asks her to assist him with a project.
She’ll grin up at him, extend a hand, say---I’d love to help you, Daniel.
And her hand, it’ll be so warm, so soft, but there will be a burn, small and shaped like a strawberry---lab accident, it’s a long story, maybe I’ll tell you over coffee sometime, yeah?
He remembers all of this. He remembers it so clearly. The first moment of his first love. He could stop it, he could save her---
*
He comes to with a jolt. He blinks, tries to focus on the here and the now, but the machine pulls him away again, to another day, another afternoon.
There’s too much sun. His skin is turning redder by the second and the motion of the waves is making his stomach churn. Out of nowhere, he feels the cool press of a hand against his back.
“Got your sea legs, yet?”
Daniel shakes his head, tries to hold back the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.
“Charlotte?”
“Daniel?” she teases. “We just spent three hours on a horrible excuse for a plane, love. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my name already?”
He shakes his head, his fingers searching out her hand.
“No…no…of course not…I…”
She doesn’t pull away. She should. She’s supposed to. Gently, but firmly removing his hand. But she doesn’t, she steps closer.
“You alright, Dan?”
The freighter hasn’t left the dock. There’s still time. He can change things. He knows he can. He begins tugging her towards the steps, praying silently that he’s not jerked away from her before they get off.
“Daniel, stop. Stop!”
Charlotte digs her heals in, forcing him to stand still.
“Please,” he begs. “I’ll explain later, but we have to get off the freighter.”
She smiles at him gently, lets her hand rest against his cheek.
“It won’t change anything. You know that.”
“It will…”
“This isn’t real,” she whispers. “I’m not real.”
“Yes…yes, you are. You’re real because I remember you, I remember this day, I remember all of our days…it’s in my head. As long as it’s there…as long as I don’t lose it…it’s real. We’ll be happy, Charlotte, so, so happy. You just have to trust me.”
She sighs, presses a kiss against his lips.
“This won’t bring me back.”
“No…but it’ll bring me here.”
*
Miles finds Daniel three hours later. The acrid scent of electrical burn overwhelms him the moment he comes home. He takes small comfort from the fact that if Daniel was dead he’d know it.
For once, Daniel’s room isn’t dead bolted. Miles pushes the door open and swears.
Daniel is slouched in front him attached to some sort of freaky ass Dr. Frankenstein bullshit, blood oozing from his nose.
“Dan? Can you hear me? Fuck…”
Miles reaches for the closest dial, but the moment he touches it he pulls his hand away with a hiss. The machine is smoldering.
He reaches instead for the helmet, but every tug seems to cause Daniel distress. His face contorts, his fingers twitch involuntary. Miles rests a hand on his knee.
“What’d you do, buddy? What the hell did you do?”
*
The science is more advanced than anything Dr. Chang has ever seen. Time travel on the small scale, he explains, time travel within your own mind that allows the user to create a reality out of their own memories, shaping and reforming a world to your own satisfaction.
Remarkable, he mutters over and over as Daniel lies in a hospital bed, hooked to his dying machine.
“Is he gonna come out of this or not, Doc?” Jim asks.
Chang shakes his head and Miles realizes where his impatience for bullshit came from.
“I’m afraid not. As long as I can keep the machine running, your friend will stay suspended in his own mind. But when it stops, and it will stop, he’ll go with it.”
Jim and Miles exchange a quick look. They both know where he is, they both know why. Daniel’s smarter than a whole team of Dharma scientists, he knew what he was getting into and they know he must have thought it was worth it.
“Give him as much time as you can,” Jim says grimly.
*
Daniel sits at a piano in his house in Massachusetts, a little boy balanced on his knee. He takes the child’s uncoordinated little hands and presses them against the keys. Together they bang out “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” as Charlotte hums along beside them, her head resting on Daniel’s shoulder.
“He’s almost as good as his dad,” she teases.
Daniel smiles.
“He’s better.”
*
The machine stops on a hot July afternoon at 4:23, two months after it began.
Miles bends his head over his friend’s body. He closes his eyes, wondering what he’ll see. At first it’s only darkness, the psychic equivalent of dead air. Then he feels it, an overwhelming sense of happiness and peace. He hears at the edges, a quick burst of laughter, sees a flash of red hair.
Satisfied, he runs a hand over Daniel’s unseeing eyes, closing them for the last time.