I never really had time to grieve June's death properly. It's not like the world--or the War--stopped because she bled to death in that street. Everything kept moving, faster and faster. I mean, I cried. Obviously. I bawled my eyes out whenever there was a pause in everything else going on. But it wasn't long before I was on that escape pod, and then it got blown up--I got blown up--and got turned into... whatever.
It's a sick joke that I definitely lost memories about plenty of other things when part of my brain was shredded by the escape pod explosion, but not June's death. Not that image of me holding her while the life went out of her eyes. She was terrified. The only people who say the approach of death is peaceful are those who've had time to make peace. She didn't get to have any peace. Her life was just snatched away in a heartbeat, and she didn't want to go. I didn't want her to go.
Things just kind of accelerated from there. I got cyberneticized, spent about 10 years doing black ops shit for Dr. Agon, then I was finally allowed to transfer into the Interstellar Operative Navy. With my experience, they let me in as a Lieutenant. Got to be a Commander. Got to end a war. Got to be a Captain. Got to end another war. Got tossed back in time. Got wrapped up in a whole different century's problems.
I'm not stupid. I mean, I am stupid, but I'm not a fool. OK, I am a fool.
Pick one, dude.
Sorry. All this stuff about changing the future for June... obviously, it's about her, but it's not really for her. It's for me. And I guess I thought that if I could find some way to save her, then I wouldn't have to accept her death. I wouldn't have to grieve her.
Yeah, so now you have the benefit of hindsight. How do you feel about it now?
I don't know. Remember, there is a June out there who didn't die. I died in her place. She turned out kind of like me, kind of not. You know what's fucked up? I got to spend a fair amount of time with her. And it just... didn't feel the same. She was June, but she wasn't my June. And she was... well, old, frankly.
But you're old! You're being hypocritical.
What I want are the memories I never got to make. I know I can't have those, not really. So I'd settle for some version of me getting to make those memories. Being with her through young adulthood. Seeing where life takes us, together.
Isn't it naive to think you'd spend your life with your high school sweetheart?
Maybe? Probably. If it didn't work out that way, I could accept that.
Could you, though? Or would you go crazy because you'd feel like all your fucking around with the timeline didn't get you what you wanted?
Ah, who can say?
You're ducking the question.
I guess I sounded flippant. I don't know how I would react to something that hasn't happened.
Don't you know yourself well enough to at least make a guess?
I don't really want to put myself in that frame of mind, frankly.
You're the one who started talking about June today.
And I can stop talking about her any time I want. I choose the topics, remember? You listen, and I decide how many questions I want to tolerate. That's the deal.
I'm not going to be quiet just because you're going to pull some "I'm the one who pays you" shit.
I respect you more than that, Brynn.
You have a funny way of showing it.
I'm also a stubborn ass, what can I tell you?
It's cool how you jerked me around so you could get out of answering a simple question.
What was the question again?
Sigh. If you succeeded, and you and June both lived, but you didn't end up together, how would you deal with that?
Drink myself to death? What kind of answer do you want, here?
An honest one that isn't some flippant bullshit?
I don't think it's any of your business.
Everything else about you seems to be my business. You're an open book about almost everything. But you don't want to answer this, which is a crystal clear answer by itself.
Then draw whatever conclusions you want. You don't need me to spell it out.
It's not about me and what I want. It's about you lying to yourself. You're lying to yourself about why you did all this shit, and you're lying to yourself about how you'd feel if you succeeded and things still didn't turn out how you wanted. I think you're glad you weren't able to prevent the War because now, no matter what happens, it's not really your fault. You can lay your failure at the feet of fate. It was all just inevitable, somehow. You get this comforting myth about a lost cause, martyring yourself. You would actually rather that than have to confront a success that doesn't give you the happy ending you want.
I'm clapping. Bravo.
You know I'm right.
You know I don't care.
You're being an asshole.
You're being a bitch.
Don't fucking call me that. I will walk the fuck out of here and not come back, you hear me?
...Sorry.
Louder and in a complete sentence.
Oh, come on.
I fucking mean it, Robert.
Fine. Brynn, I'm sorry I called you a bitch, even though you're totally being one.
Motherfucker. I'm out.
Wait!! Come on. I'm just being a dick.
That's the fucking problem, dumbass!
OK, OK. I'm truly sorry I called you that. It was uncalled for. I'm just mad because you always know exactly how to poke me right in my wounds. Happy?
I'm glad you apologized. I wouldn't say I'm happy.
Then what will make you happy?
Nothing you can give me, dude. No offense.
But you're not leaving?
No. But don't talk to me like that again. I won't put up with that for any amount of money.
They really teach you girls not to take any shit these days, huh?
Robert, you're born like 30 years from now. You don't get to do a "kids these days" with me, I don't think.
Yeah, fair point.