Page 39 of Evermore

“He became obsessed with curing my condition instead of accepting it.

He turned love into a medical mission, and it destroyed everything we'd built together.” Finn met River's eyes, seeing understanding dawn there.

“He's trying to save us from his own mistakes by sabotaging us before we reach the point where you start seeing me as a problem to solve.”

River reached for Finn's hand, intertwining their fingers with the automatic intimacy that had survived every episode and crisis. “But I don't want to cure you. I want to love you exactly as you are.”

“I know that. And he probably knew that too, at first. But grief and desperation can change people, make them do things they never thought they'd do.” Finn squeezed River's hand, feeling certainty build in his chest. “The question is whether we're going to let his fear write our story.”

Maya knocked softly before entering with Thomas Wright, both carrying documents that suggested they'd been collaborating on research.

“We've been looking into similar cases,” Maya said, arranging papers in the systematic way her psychology training had taught her. “Thomas has documented dozens of families affected by temporal displacement over the past century.”

Thomas opened a leather folder, revealing handwritten accounts and newspaper clippings. “I've had some time to rest and gather more documentation since we talked yesterday,” he said, settling back into his chair. “The pattern I mentioned is even more extensive than I initially showed you.”

“What kind of additional evidence?” Finn asked.

“More detailed accounts of the temporal echoes we discussed. Family members not just seeing alternate versions, but experiencing direct interference.” Thomas pointed to a faded newspaper account.

“This case from 1962 - the husband reported that the older version of himself didn't just appear during episodes, but actively sabotaged medical equipment to prevent certain treatments.”

River leaned forward with obvious interest. “Are there accounts of people successfully confronting these temporal echoes?”

“A few. Families who chose to face the manipulation directly rather than being controlled by it.” Thomas pulled out a handwritten letter.

“This woman documented her experience confronting a temporal figure who'd been sabotaging her marriage. She wrote that understanding the manipulation was the first step toward reclaiming control.”

“How did she confront it?” Finn asked.

“She returned to the place where the interference had been strongest and demanded direct communication rather than continued manipulation.” Thomas looked between Finn and River with eyes that had seen too many impossible things.

“She forced the temporal echo to explain its actions, then made her own choices about how to respond.”

Maya spread out more documents, showing patterns Thomas had identified. “The key seems to be understanding that temporal echoes aren't trying to harm people. They're trying to prevent specific outcomes based on their own traumatic experiences.”

“But they don't have the right to make those choices for other people,” Finn said, his decision crystallizing. “Even if the future version of River has lived through losing me, that doesn't give him the authority to destroy our present.”

River nodded, his grip on Finn's hand tightening with shared determination. “We need to go back to the lighthouse cottage. That's where the interference has been strongest.”

“Are you sure you're ready for that kind of confrontation?” Maya asked, her protective instincts clearly warring with her understanding that Finn needed to fight for his relationship.

“I'm ready,” Finn said, feeling stronger than he had in months. “I'm tired of being a victim of someone else's fear. I'm tired of having my episodes triggered by manipulation instead of natural causes.”

Thomas began gathering his documents, but paused to look at Finn with an expression that was part encouragement, part warning.

“Just remember that temporal echoes are usually created by profound trauma and loss.

Whatever you're confronting experienced the worst possible outcome of the choices you're making.”

“Then we'll have to prove that the worst possible outcome isn't the only possible outcome,” River said.

As they prepared to leave the hospital, Finn felt cautious hope building in his chest for the first time since his condition had begun. He understood his family history, knew the genetic basis of his condition, and recognized the scope of the manipulation they'd endured.

Most importantly, he had River beside him—not trying to cure his condition but willing to accept it as part of loving him. That felt like the kind of foundation they could build a life on, regardless of what temporal echoes thought was best.

“Ready for this?” River asked as they walked toward the hospital exit.

Finn looked at the man he loved, seeing determination and fear and hope in equal measure, and felt his own resolve solidify into conviction.

“I'm ready,” Finn said. “Let's go home and face whatever's been trying to destroy us.”