(Untitled)

[wpc_ridinghood]

"You're not being funny, you know

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[how_itgoes]

Sam had seen Ivanhoe knock over the books and he'd shifted into the room, folding his leather jacket over the chair as he helped to fix all the books before taking Ivanhoe into his arms. "Hey," he whispers to the cat. "None of that."

[wpc_ridinghood]

Annie hadn't noticed Sam come in until he was beside her, and she glanced at him over her shoulder, sliding another book back onto the shelf. "Thinks it's got a sense of humour," she informed him, "The shelf, I mean." Though, really, she supposed Ivanhoe did too, but she pulled herself to her feet and smiled. "Thanks, for the help."

[how_itgoes]

Sam glances up from his place, crouched over to the ground. "Don't mention it," he promises, stroking Ivanhoe's fur before letting him go and re-shelving the books, taking a look at the titles. He cocks a brow up at Annie.

"Research?"

[wpc_ridinghood]

"I didn't ask for them," Annie half-laughed, though still far from pleased with the shelf's selections. "Getting a bit fed up, really. It's been at it since I came in." She sighed and bent over again, to pick up a few of the film cannisters and put them back where they belonged.

[how_itgoes]

Sam's taken an interest in the books already and he starts to leaf through them, sitting down as he peruses the accounts of Brazilians who have supposedly gone back in time.

Maybe he should write a book. Whatever Annie's saying drifts over his head, at that particular moment.

[wpc_ridinghood]

Leaning forward to see which of the books he'd chosen to look through, Annie sighed again, and dropped back to her knees beside him. "You don't have to do that, you know," she said as she peered over his shoulder at the words before slipping another of the books back onto the shelf.

[how_itgoes]

"Yeah, but this is prime stuff," he says, angling his head up to catch her gaze. "It's, you know..." He gives the book a tap with the back of his palm. "It's interesting."

[wpc_ridinghood]

"It's not real," she countered, her eyes locked with his, the words unfamiliar - her argument was usually the reverse. "They may call it nonfiction, but that doesn't mean it could actually happen."

[how_itgoes]

Sam gives Annie a very serious look, because if it's not real, then why is he still there? Worse than that, why's he still going if there's no way out? "Annie...please," he pleads. "Let me think it."

[wpc_ridinghood]

She just looked at him, trying her best not to be frustrated, though it seemed to be harder every time their conversation went this way. "You'd really rather think that?" she asked, nearly incredulous. "That you've some...ability to go back in time, or this is all something you've made up?"

[how_itgoes]

"I just need to know that I'm not insane, Annie," he stresses the words, his eyes wide. "Shit," he curses and rubs both hands over his face, again and again and again.

[wpc_ridinghood]

"You're not insane," Annie assured him quietly, after watching him for a long moment, if only just because she wanted that to be true, and carefully put a hand by his knee. "You're not."

[how_itgoes]

"Then what am I? A man who travels back in time?" he asks, giving her a completely lost look. "Even you say that's impossible, so I uh...that uh..." he stammers, stumbles. "So either I'm in a coma, or I'm insane!"

[wpc_ridinghood]

"Or it's all exactly what it looks like," Annie offered, close to pleading, as much as she didn't want it to seem that way. "And you're not in a coma, or mad, and everything's going to be fine."

[how_itgoes]

"I remember growing up," he says, each word sharp, precise, sure. "I remember 2006, Annie, I showed you my notes. Go on. Ask anyone here from that time. They'll back me up!"

[wpc_ridinghood]

Annie shook her head, a slight movement, but sharp nonetheless. "No," she said simply, still trying to keep eye contact. "No, I won't. Because what you're proposing isn't possible, no matter what you think you might remember."