Page 37 of Evermore
River was about to answer when he saw something that made his heart stop.
In the doorway of Finn's hospital room stood a figure that looked exactly like him, but older, more weathered, wearing clothes River recognized from his own closet.
The figure watched them with eyes that held years of accumulated grief, then turned and walked down the hospital corridor like he belonged there.
“Did you see that?” River whispered, his voice barely audible.
“See what?”
River looked at Jake, then back at the doorway where the impossible figure had been standing. Nothing there now except empty hallway and the distant sounds of hospital activity.
“Nothing,” River said, but his hands were shaking as he sat back down beside Finn's bed. “I thought I saw something.”
But he had seen something. Someone who watched them with the careful attention of a person waiting for specific events to unfold. The same way River had been watching Finn, but from the wrong side of time.
River spent the rest of the night staring at the doorway, finally understanding that his own strange experiences - the inexplicable familiarity with Finn, the misplaced memories, the moments of knowing things he shouldn't - hadn't been separate from Finn's condition.
They'd been part of the same phenomenon, just manifesting differently.
Thomas Wright appeared the next morning carrying a leather satchel and looking like a man who'd been debating whether to get involved in something he didn't fully understand.
River recognized him from the lighthouse museum—the old curator who collected maritime stories and seemed to know more about local mysteries than he usually shared.
“Heard about what happened,” Thomas said, settling into the visitor's chair with the careful movements of someone whose joints had seen too many years. “Brought some things you might find interesting.”
“About what?”
“Your situation.” Thomas opened his satchel and pulled out a slim folder. “Been researching families like yours for decades. People dealing with temporal displacement, unexplained episodes, reality that doesn't behave the way it should.”
River leaned forward, desperate for any information that might help him understand what was happening. “Other people have had episodes like Finn's?”
“Similar patterns, going back over a century.” Thomas pulled out a faded newspaper clipping from 1943.
“Young woman named Sarah Caldwell started having what her husband called 'time slips'—episodes where she seemed to experience other versions of her life.
But here's what caught my attention: her husband reported seeing an elderly version of himself during her worst episodes.”
River's blood turned to ice water. “Someone who looked like him but older?”
“Exactly. And according to his account, this figure seemed to be trying to communicate something. Usually warnings about treatment approaches or medical decisions.” Thomas showed River another document, this one from 1967.
“Here's another case. James Morrison's wife had similar episodes, and he swore he saw his future self trying to prevent him from seeking certain treatments.”
River stared at the documents, his mind reeling. “You're saying this has happened before?”
“The pattern is consistent across multiple cases spanning decades. The displacement condition affects more than just the patient—it seems to create temporal echoes that allow glimpses of possible futures.” Thomas studied River's face with sharp eyes. “Have you been seeing things you can't explain?”
River wanted to lie, to dismiss what had happened as stress-induced hallucination, but Thomas's documentation suggested he might be the only person who would understand. “Last night, I saw someone who looked exactly like me, but older. He was watching Finn.”
Thomas nodded like this was exactly what he'd expected to hear. “The echoes appear during medical crises, when the patient's condition reaches critical points. Sometimes they try to communicate directly, sometimes through environmental manipulation.”
“Environmental manipulation?”
“Equipment failures, power outages, circumstances that prevent certain choices from being made.” Thomas gathered his documents carefully. “Have you noticed unusual interference around Finn's episodes?”
River thought about the equipment failures, the power outages during important conversations, the way Finn's episodes always seemed to escalate at moments that drove them toward crisis.
“Someone's been sabotaging us,” River said, understanding hitting him with devastating clarity. “Someone who knows how this ends, who's been trying to prevent us from making choices that lead to disaster.”
“That would fit the pattern I've documented,” Thomas agreed quietly. “The question is whether you're going to fight the manipulation or try to understand what it's warning you about.”
Before River could answer, Finn's heart monitor started beeping faster, his peaceful expression shifting to something more active. His eyelids fluttered, and River felt hope explode in his chest as consciousness seemed to return after three days of absence.
“Finn?” River leaned forward, taking his hand and feeling it squeeze back weakly. “Hey, you're in the hospital. You're safe. You're okay.”
Finn's eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first, then finding River's face with obvious relief. “River,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “You're here. You're real.”
“I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.” River felt tears on his face that he didn't remember starting. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I've been living other people's lives.” Finn tried to sit up, wincing at the soreness in his muscles. “But River, I need to tell you something important. About what I saw during the treatment.”
“What did you see?”
Finn's expression grew serious, his brown eyes holding knowledge that seemed too heavy for someone who'd just regained consciousness. “I saw him. The older version of you. He's been manipulating my episodes, trying to drive us apart to prevent something terrible from happening.”
River felt the world shift around him as Finn confirmed what he'd barely been willing to believe. “You saw him too?”
“He's been interfering with my condition, making the episodes worse at specific moments to sabotage our relationship.
He thinks he's protecting us, but he's actually destroying what we have.” Finn struggled to sit up further, urgency in his voice.
“River, we need to understand what he's trying to prevent, because whatever it is, he's willing to sacrifice our happiness to stop it.”
River looked at Thomas, who was listening to their conversation with the fascination of someone whose research had just been vindicated by living witnesses.
“It seems,” Thomas said quietly, “that your temporal displacement has attracted the attention of someone who's lived through the consequences of the choices you're making now.”
“But why would a future version of me try to destroy our relationship?” River asked, his mind struggling to process the impossible situation they were facing.
Finn met his eyes with an expression that held both love and terrible understanding. “Because in his timeline, trying to save me destroyed us both. And he'd rather have us broken apart than watch us repeat his mistakes.”
River felt everything he thought he understood about reality crumble around him.
They weren't just dealing with Finn's medical condition anymore.
They were dealing with someone who had lived through the consequences of their love and was actively working to prevent them from fighting for what they had.
The question was whether they would let fear of an unknown future destroy their present, or whether they would choose to face whatever was coming together, regardless of what older and supposedly wiser versions of themselves thought was best.
Looking at Finn's face, seeing the determination in his eyes despite everything he'd been through, River knew which choice he was going to make. They would fight for their love, even if it meant battling against versions of themselves who thought they knew better.