The silence that followed his question made him feel as though it would remain unanswered, and that hurt him. But he expected it, allowing his hurt to be shown through nothing more than a furrow of his thick brows as he continued to eat, hoping to keep an air of nonchalance about him. After all, what room did he have to care about her, right? He was a monster, a broken mind with no consolation against the darkness that plagued him. It was only appropriate for him to keep his distance from her burning light. There was no point in flocking towards her when all he would do is extinguish her life.

Just as he thought about shutting himself off from her, he was sucked back in again; drawn to her as if he had magnets in his blood that were only attracted to the girl sitting before him.

Beau ran her words through his head on a loop, confusion laced through his furrowed and downturned brows. What she was telling him was almost surreal – definitely not what he was expecting her to tell him. But before he could utter a semblance of a question she said no. The amount of fear and panic that slithered in and out that one single word made his eyes snap up to her, his chest tightening with unknown anticipation. Beau’s lips parted, words just on the tip of his tongue, when she snapped a hand out and clenched his own in a tight grasp. Now that worried him even more. What in the hell was happening with her?

Sea foam green eyes watched as her bright blue ones seemed to glaze over as if she were staring into a bright light, the sun – heaven. Perhaps that was wishful thinking, for instead of a light engulfing him, the lack thereof did. An oblivion so dark Beau thought he was actually dead. There was only enough time to think that single thought before he went under, completely numb to the world around him.

-----

Though he had never been there, Beau had always imagined hell as an eternal fire, so hot his skin melted off his very bones. For some odd reason, he felt… wet. And not the good kind.

A whimper sounds from his left followed by a woof on his right. Mattie, Max. So there were there with him, but where exactly was ‘with him’? The clomp of hooves and a soft whinny told him it wasn’t his cottage in the woods.

It was a fit of coughs that urged him to finally open his eyes, as he was previously content laying there taking in the various sounds and scents – some of which were completely unpleasant. Long lashes flutter as Beau forces his eyes open, neck craning to give him a view of Mattie coughing next to him, her hand blindly fumbling with his own. Beau hastily grabs it, squeezing the petite appendage in his large one, eyes trained only on her now crumpled form. Max barked once more, finally heaving his doggish body up on all fours and climbing onto Beau’s lap.

And then it hit him, the offending odor of horse **** and dirt.

Beau frantically looks around, his grip on Mattie’s hand only tightening as a thick layer of confusion wraps him up. It was like they traveled hundreds of years into the past. They were in what appeared to be a town, small and humble. Buildings outlined the road they seemed to be in, thatched roofs and all. It definitely wasn’t the modern and advanced town he lived near, rather it was completely medieval.

A man came up on a trotting horse, pulling the mare to a stop several feet from the fallen group. “Ay. Yeh should’n’ be layin’ in teh mud like t’at. You’ll get derty.” He said in an English very similar to Beau’s, though his accent was thicker than Beau’s.

Beau only nodded in response, unable to make himself move despite Max getting up off of his lap and sniffing curiously at the horse. The man atop said beast looked down at the man and woman with confusion, his gaze urging them to get up, taking their appearance in at the same time. “What’s wrong with yer girl?” He asked, sliding off the side of the horse and kneeling next to Beau.

Shaking his head, Beau gave her hand a tender squeeze and ran a hand over the side of her face, brushing the stray blonde hairs away. “I don’t know…” The way he trailed off seemed to get his point across, as blatant as it may be, and the stranger nodded his head before making his way over to Mattie’s other side and crouching down next to her, slinging her other arm over his shoulder.

“Let’s get her up, I’ve a place fer you to stay till she wakes up.” For some odd reason, Beau found himself nodding and getting to his feet, unable to distrust the sincere look in the man’s eyes. Beau got to his feet and immediately picked Mattie up into his arms bridal style. The man only grinned. “I’m Hadrian. Mary, meh wife, would ne’er let me into teh house knowin’ I didn’t help you. Come, she’ll take good care of yer wife – you look like ye need a drink.”

A grateful Beau nodded his head in thanks, soon after giving his name as the two set off down the dirt road, a light drizzle of rain beginning to fall down on them, though Hadrian warned it looked to be pouring in the near future, something about a smell in the air that Beau couldn’t identity over the horse **** and dirt.

In no time they were at a small house just outside the center of the small town. The second they stepped in it began pouring. Mary, Hadrian’s wife, bustled over, welcoming her husband home while greeting Beau and worrying over the unconscious woman in his arms. She hadn’t even asked his name before ushering him upstairs to an extra bedroom – which Beau would later learn was the room their daughter stayed in before she left home to live with her husband – to lay Mattie down. Max stayed close on Beau’s heels as he stepped further into the house. After Mattie was situated on the bed, Beau was then handed a pair of Hadrian’s dry clothes, his old ones so dirty they ended up throwing them into the fire.  The second he was dressed Hadrian ushered him into the room with the fire, a room Beau would normally call the living room, and a mug of drink was pushed in his hand; very potent. He’d barely finished half of the mug before he found his eyelids getting heavy. It had to be barely midday and Beau was drunk off his ass.  The hours were spent talking with Hadrian; sly questions that revealed their setting without Hadrian getting too suspicious. Hadrian knew very little about Beau, other than his name of course. He figured it was best to leave it that way – to answer them only when he got answers from Mattie.

Max dances anxiously around her feet but Mattie does not stop, only gives him a pleading look as she tries to step around him. Moments later however she feels strong, warm arms encircle her. Pulling her back toward the house. She fights, squirming and kicking like a roped animal but her strength is no match for Beau’s. She doesn’t care if it’s crazy to go out into the storm. This is one place, one time, she can’t handle it again. It was the one time she let her guard down with someone, more than anyone else she has ever known.  The first time she felt truly alive since she was ripped away from her life. She has only been back for hours and she can already see it could easily happen, only to break her all over again.

“Let me go! You don’t understand!”
 
Only moments later she is back within the warmth of his home, still wrapped in his arms to keep her from heading right back out the door. Something she hates to admit was a smart idea on his part. Still, she doesn’t stop pulling, squirming, trying her hardest to break free.

The grip of his arms around her middle only tightens as he tries to reason with her. Yes, she could die out there. Just from those few short moments outside her body is chilled like ice. Maybe the past five years of shifting time has driven her mad but she can’t help but think it would be better than the alternative, to stay here and have her heart shattered all over again. At least the jumps would stop.

“Yer not leavin’ until that storm is gone, Mattie..”

His breath on her ear, or maybe the way he spoke her name, stills her. The fight having left her she instead sags against him, spent. The tears she held back before have now returned with a vengence. A sob shakes her chest, her head sagging down to stare blankly at the floor boards and melting snow clumps brought back in with their shoes. “You don’t understand.. You have to let me go, Beau.. Please. I can’t..” I can’t do this again.

A little bitterly she acknowledges that he probably doesn’t even remember her. If he did, he most likely hates her now for leaving him before. She can’t blame him. She hated herself too.

Maybe it’s the familiar smell of his skin she had forgotten until now, or the pain she knows is coming, but she finds herself taken back to the last day of her time here so long ago. Strange how things so small can trigger memories buried so far down she forgot she even had them.

The smell of late spring rain permeated the air, heavy clouds moving slowly across the sky to spread their moisture elsewhere. Mattie sat on the large bowed root breaching the earth’s surface of their favorite  spot, a large Yew tree two  miles out of town. He had asked to meet here there again that evening. This wasn’t unusual as they met here a few times a week. On this day though, she wouldn’t be there when he arrived. She had been waiting patiently, twirling a flower she found on her walk there between her thumb and index fingers when the light came and carried her away. Just like that she was tossed into a new era. Any chance of  a happy life again wreaked beyond all hope.

All that is left to do is continue hiding who she is until she can leave. She may not be able to protect herself from this car crash that is her life, but she can at least refuse him entry again. Shifting her feet she stands up straight again, no longer leaning into Beau’s chest for support. “You can let me go. I’ll wait out the storm, but as soon as it clears I’m leaving.” Stepping away from the warmth of his body she gently reaches down and rubs the top of Max’s head, refusing to make eye contact with the man across from her. She turns toward the stairs and thus the bedroom intending to shut herself in for the duration of this ill timed blizzard she speaks to the blue-tick, beckoning him. “Come on, Maxie.” A soft yet sad smile almost reaching her lips as she remembers the nickname she used to call him. At least he won’t question her, make her hurt them all over again. It’s the only solace she can find in her crumbled world that has already been destroyed so many times already.

“Matilda? Sounds like an old lady’s name.”

Mattie feels the corner of her lips pull up into a light smile as she looks up from her plate at the man across from her.  Matilda hasn't been a very popular name in any time she has found herself, so it’s not surprising to find it unusual here as well. The fact that she should be an old lady or even dead by now is a joke only she will ever know, though.

Beau.. Why does that name sound so familiar? It’s an old name, so surely she has met others with the name on her troubles. Something nags at the back of her mind though and she can’t place why.  She puts the thought aside, not wanting to dwell.  Her past has no place in her present.  All the people she has left behind, they had to move on and so must she.  She has met countless people.  At first she tried to create a life in her new times, start over with new friends, a new life. But every time always ends the same.  She starts getting comfortable and only to be ripped away to a new place all over again. So she stopped trying. She started keeping to herself, only getting jobs to support herself and staying on her own. That way she never had to get hurt again. Never had to feel the pain of losing those she cares about every time she let her guard down.

She has finished most of her plate now, and the gnawing hunger felt in her stomach is slowly fading away into a warm comfortable feeling. Taking another slow sip of water she shakes her head gently. “I don’t know.  I’m not even sure where I am to be honest.” At least there were some things she could be truthful about. She hates lying, even to strangers, and yet her whole life revolves around them now. Not only has this taken her ability to a normal life away, but it even strips away pieces of herself she holds dear.

Any thoughts she had previously were dashed at once, the moment his shirt came off. Not so much from the now bare skin of his muscled arms, but a small patch of skin on his left shoulder. In that moment, her whole world freezes. Her brown eyes lock onto the mark, trying to explain away it’s existence. It can’t be. It’s not possible. But it’s there all the same, a paw print.

Beau…

All at once, it falls into place. Max, Beau, his accent, the birthmark.. It’s him.. She’s back. The metal fork in her hand clatters to the plate as she tries to take in this revelation. How did she get back here? Clearly it’s much later, they were both only teenagers when she ended up here last. Now he is grown up, a man. Pain lances through her heart as she thinks back to their time together. The time spent on the lake, the nights of camping under the stars. Meeting Max for the first time. She had no idea how much she had cared for the boy with the strange birth mark until it was too late. And now she is back, given a second chance she knows is just someone’s cruel trick. As if she hasn’t suffered enough.
She does not even register his next question. All she can think about is getting away from here. She can’t go through this again, can’t leave him a second time.  Pushing back from the table she stands quickly. “I, I’m sorry. I have to go. Thank you for all your help..”

Without another word she makes a beeline for the door just around the corner, intending to walk as far away as she needs to. Her eyes brim with tears as she steps out onto the wooden porch, arms immediately going up to wrap around herself. Was it this cold when she arrived? The ground is already covered in a shallow coating of snow, fat snow flakes falling consistently from the sky as if to add insult to injury.  She doesn't have much choice though, she has to leave. So she steps down the four stairs to the frozen ground, her simple two inch heels no match for the snow as it piles up over the rounded toes onto the exposed tops of her feet.

Without turning back as she tries to find a road, she whispers an apology. Not only for now, but all those years ago. “I’m sorry, Beau..”

The man follows her into the kitchen area, setting a glass of water on the table for her before making her a plate of wonderful smelling food. She takes greedy sips from the glass, the liquid quenching the desert that is her parched throat. She still has no idea how long ago she arrived here, how long it has been since the last time she ate. She had been so busy in 1932, she probably hadn't even eaten breakfast before she jumped time again.
As she waits for him to finish making her plate of food she thinks back to that day.

It has been spring, May 12th to be specific. Mattie had been in 1932 for almost six months. The longest she has been in one place in a long time. It seems with every shift her reaction is worse and the time spent gets shorter. She worries about what that means for her future. In this time, she was working in a library in a small town in the U.S. It was quiet, and she was able to learn about the current technology and world events without being bothered or looked at funny, as if she just shifted to a time she knew nothing about. It had been a busy day, the monthly book club meeting scheduled had been cross scheduled with a separate book reading in the same room by one of the other assistants. The head librarian had left it to Mattie to fix the problem. She had been setting the room next door up to allow both events their own space when it happened again. The tingling sensation, turning into an almost burn that consumed her whole body until in a flash she disappears. Carried off into a new time and place.

 "Eat up, you look dead."

His words bring her back from her thoughts and a blush flushes her cheeks. Did she really look that bad? Self consciously she looks down at her dress, the previously Snow White lace is now an ugly brown dotted with grass stains and heavier patches of dirt. She really does look dreadful. Futilely she brushes at the fabric with her fingers, a weak attempt to make herself a bit more presentable in this strangers presence. 

She looks familiar to him? That's so strange. There is no possible way they have met before, but she feels a strange sort of familiarity here too. "My name is Matilda, you can call me Mattie though. I don't believe we could have met before." That is an understatement, but she can't exactly say why that is impossible so she leaves it vague. When he asks if she knows how she got out there in the forest she becomes focused on the food in front of her instead of answering for a moment. Bringing a forkful of egg to her mouth she savors the food on her tongue. The warmth and taste is heavenly, just as the bacon she tries next. When she can stall no longer she finally mumbles an another vague answer. Lying has never been her strong suit. "I.. Don't remember.." Instead of looking at the handsome man across from her she goes back to eating. Despite how badly she wants to devour the food on her plate all at once she forces herself to take her time and eat politely. Old habits still ingrained in her very being it seems.

The floor gives an uncomfortable creak as she shifts her weight from on leg to another, waiting for the man before her to say something. He's clearly handsom. Rugged in the best of ways. And almost surprised to see her standing there before him. What if he wasn't the one who brought her here? Maybe someone else did and didn't tell him. Embarrassment blushes her cheeks as she waits for him to say something. What if he throws her out thinking she's some strange burglar? Thankfully after a moment he speaks and it's clear he was the person who allowed her here after all. She almost gives a sigh of relief as she takes a small step forward and into the room instead of lingering by the stairs.

She didn't notice the food smell until he offered her some, but once he does the smell immediately makes her mouth water. Food.. When was the last time she ate?  As if in answer her stomach growls quietly, her eyes flitting to the food on the plate as she tries to act as if she isn't as hungry as she is. "Um, maybe just a little.. And some water, please."

Slowly she walks toward the table, careful to take her time in case her dizzy spells haven't dissipated yet. Once she reaches the table she pulls the chair across from him back, the legs making a grating sound against the floor. The sound sends a throb of pain shooting through her skull again and she winces slightly just before she sits. She waits patiently for him to set out a plate and cup for her, wringing her hands in her lap. As she sits there, she watches the man who apparently saved her. His accent sounds distinctly Irish, but she hasn't been in Ireland in a long time, too many jumps have happened since for her to remember accurately. She knows she can't be in the same place though, she never ends up in the same places or the same times. Somethin about him though.. It's so.. Familiar. Maybe she met someone like him at some point, though it would be hard to forget someone who looks the way he does.

Finally, she speaks up. "I want to thank you.. For letting me stay here. It was very kind of you. I hope I'm not imposing though.." She waits for his reply before offering to leave. She doesn't want him to think she will take advantage of him, but she also doesn't want him to think she is ungrateful. The hound she woke up with stills sits next to her on the floor, and Mattie has found herself gently rubbing the dog's head. It's curious that the animal has taken to her so quickly. She can't say she really minds though. His presence is calming. Though she can't say she feels fearful or truly uncomfortable in this strange man's presence either.

In the dark Mattie hears voices and glimpses of her many pasts flashing before her eyes. The village she grew up in and their small house made of simple thatch and wood. It's the first time she has seen it since the time shifts started. Well, other than in her dreams and the time she travelled there while in the future. All that was left was rock and overgrown wreckage of the past. Is this a dream? It's so muddled, mixed in with all the other places she has seen in the last five years. She yells to her family, her mother, her brothers and sisters. No one seems to hear her though. Finally she collapses back into the darkness, exhausted from even dreaming.

It must be hours later, maybe even days when she finally starts becoming aware of her surroundings. Who knows how long it's been since she arrived in her new time. The first thing she notices is the soft texture of fabric all around her body. A bed? She then notices a heavy weight pressed against her side. Warm, and soft. And.. Breathing? Mattie opens her eyes slowly, even the dim light in the room is enough to make her eyes squint. Her head throbs in pain, as if her skull could spilt open right between her eyes. The soft warm body warming her side is some type of animal, she sees. A dog. Where is she?

Slowly, painfully, she sits up in the bed she has no memory of entering. How did she get here? And where is here? Moving her legs over the side of the mattress she pulls herself up using the tall bed post, clinging to the wood for dear life as the room spins. This is not good. How long has it been since she shifted time? Surely the effects should have subsided by now. Gingerly she takes a step foward the door and away from her stable crutch. A bout of dizziness and nausea hits her like a wave onto sand. Off to her side she sees what looks to be a bathroom. Quickly her bare feet move across the wood floor and into the small room carrying her immediately to the toilet. She releases what little is in her stomach before turning to the bathroom sink before  turning the water on cold and rinsing her mouth out.

A pale woman stares back at her from the mirror, her face looks almost lifeless and there is still a tiny bit of blood on the corner of her mouth and at the base of one nostril. Using the water still running in the sink she scrubs her face with her hands to get the grime off her skin. Once finished her cheeks actually have a slight pink color from the friction and she no longer looks so dead.

Claws on wood make her turn to the door, the dog from the bed stands there. It's tongue lazily hangs from the side of its mouth a happy grin almost visible in it's canine expression. With a bark he practically prances up to her, jumping to put his paws on her chest. A surprised "oh!" Escapes her lips as she catches his weight and gives him a gentle rub behind his ears. Feeling a collar present she turns the red fabric in her hands and reads the inscription. Maximillian the name makes her smile. She used to know a dog with that name. Same breed even. He was only a puppy then, though. And she's never ended up in a time where the same people are still alive. Still, the memory is a good one.

Now she needs to find the owner of this home and thank them for their hospitality. Then maybe see if a hotel or inn is near by. She is at least in the era of technology it seems, a time she has grown very fond of. She could possibly hitch hike a ride to a town if one isn't near. Gently she shifts the dog named Max off her chest and walks quietly back into the bedroom and then down the short hall to the main rooms. With a soft clearing of her throat she speaks into the space, unsure if anyone is even in here.

"Hello?"

The forest is peaceful. Only the gentle chirp of birds filter down from the trees above and the gentle sounds of wildlife going about their days can be heard. A peace that will soon be shaken. A flash of light appears in a small meadow, cutting through the soft mists given by a creek near by. With that light the meadow goes silent. A new noise can be heard. A cough.

Mattie rolls onto her side on the bed of Bluebells covering the meadow, a cough wreaking her lungs. Shakily she brings her arm up to wipe the side of her mouth, a light smear of blood is left on her wrist. It's still getting worse she inwardly groans. At this rate, she has no idea how many more times her body can take this. But she can't stay here. Who knows how far from civilization she is this time. Or what time she is in. She sends up a silent prayer that she isn't in a time and place that her clothing could get her killed. The sooner she finds a dry safe place to hide the better.

Slowly she attempts to push herself from the ground, her now dingy 1930s style white dress pooling around her. The attempt fails though, her body too weak from the recent shift. Collapsing back into the flowers she coughs into the dirt. With her last bit of strength fading she rolls onto her back, the dense tree cover the last thing she sees before her world goes dark.