Scarlett felt her body slam into something soft. She heard a soft "oof" as breath left Roger's mouth. She had fallen on him. Damon was sprawled a few feet away, still unconscious. Scarlett scrambled desperately to her feet, a hand clapped over her mouth. She sprinted a few feet away and vomited, shaking as she retched.
When she was done, she spit and wiped a hand across her mouth. She turned back to Roger and Damon. Roger was slowly peeling himself from the ground, favoring his left shoulder. Damon lay in a crumpled heap. Scarlett's heart twisted in fear.
"Damon!" she yelled, running to him. "Damon please wake up," she fell to her knees next to him. Relief flooded through her as she saw his chest rising and falling. She brushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead and pulled his head into her lap. A twig snapped as Roger came up behind her.
"He'll be fine," he stated, looking down at the small child in Scarlett's arm. "It was just a mild tranquilizer. It should wear off within the hour."
Scarlett turned her face toward Roger. He was cradling his right arm against his chest. Twigs and leaves stuck out of his hair at odd angles. His black coat was torn in several places. Scarlett looked down at herself and realized she looked no better. There was a long gash along her arm and blood was welling out of it, staining her sweater. Her jeans were ripped at the knees and she could see leaves in her hair. Damon had somehow managed to avoid getting foliage in his hair, but his jeans and shirt had several nicks and tears.
"Roger," Scarlett began softly. Her head was spinning and she feared she might be sick again. "What just happened? Where are we? What's going on?" hysteria had crept into her voice, driving it up several octaves.
Roger sighed and sat down across from her. Scarlett looked around briefly, taking in her surroundings. They appeared to be in woods of some kind, not unlike the woods surrounding her back yard. But that wasn't what was strange. It had been dark when Scarlett's father had stormed out of the house. Now, the sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in an eerie orange glow.
"Scarlett, this is going to sound absolutely crazy but you're going to have to trust me." He eyed her warily, and Scarlett realized he was waiting for a response. She nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak. She could feel herself shaking and hoped that Roger didn't notice.
"Your brother…he's different, you know that right? With the dreams and hunches, you know those aren't normal, don't you?"
Scarlett nodded again. In her true heart of hearts she had always known that Damon was far from ordinary. His dreams, when he remembered them, were usually spot on with what was happening behind closed doors. Their parents fighting, their fathers drinking. One night he had even dreamed about the bruises that often laced Scarlett's arms and legs. She always brushed them off as his subconscious picking up cues at the dinner table, or her not being careful enough about when her sleeves slid too far up her arms. But she knew, she'd always known.
"Scarlett, I don't think you do understand. Your brother is one of the most important people in the human race. He will change history, given that he lives long enough. And he's in danger. People are starting to find out, to realize his importance."
"I-I don't get it," Scarlett stammered. What was Roger talking about? How could people know about his dreams? Scarlett was the only one that he ever told.
Roger sighed, his eyes pleaded with her to understand. Scarlett's head was whirling. "Not necessarily people from your…timeline" he paused a second, letting that sink in. "Time is a very dangerous thing. Especially when humans manipulate it. And now, they've started learning how to manipulate it. How to twist it and wrinkle it. How to step through dents in time. Do you understand?"
"You-you're saying…time travel?" Scarlett asked, bewildered. Roger's shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Yes," he breathed, sounding relieved. "Yes. That's exactly it. There are bad people around here. They want to change the past, make it how they think it should be. When that happened they created an agency dedicated to stopping those people. The Reformers, they call themselves."
Scarlett's head was spinning with all the new information. She couldn't comprehend what was happening, so she settled for nodding again.
"They-the agency- assign an agent to protect certain people, such as your brother. An agent is responsible for the wellbeing of their assignment. They're required to make sure they stay alive, and if things start to get messy, they pull them out. Do you understand what I'm saying?" he fixed her with a no nonsense look.
"You're a…time agent and you have to keep Damon alive at all costs. We just traveled in time because…" she broke off as she realized what he was saying. They were unsafe. Their father. He was…he might have. Scarlett felt nausea wash over her again and she clamped her mouth shut. Roger's eyes softened.
"It's okay," he said laying an arm gently on her shoulder. His touch was familiar and foreign at the same time. All this time, everything had been a lie. It'd had never been about her, it had always been about Damon. Scarlett wasn't even supposed to be here. Looking at Roger looking at her, she felt her heart constrict. It was a lie, it was all a lie.
Scarlett was numb with shock and fear. "What's going to happen now?" she whispered shakily, drawing Damon closer in her arms. Some of his color was returning, which seemed like a good sign.
"I'm going to take you and Damon to the agency, you'll be safe there. We'll send agents back to your house until it's…safe. We have a safe house where an agent has been preparing for your arrival. There's someone Damon should meet. You'll be here a day or two. Three tops."
"What about our father," Scarlett breathed. There was a knot in her throat. She willed herself not to cry. She would not cry in front of Roger. Never again.
Roger's face twisted in sympathy. "Damon's safety is…paramount. Certain risks must be eliminated."
Scarlett was ashamed to admit that she felt no remorse. She was thinking how much easier their lives would be without their father's looming presence when Damon stirred in her arms. Roger looked at him fondly. Scarlett silently wondered how long Roger had been assigned to Damon. Scarlett felt a flare of anger twist through her as she thought of everything she'd told Roger. He'd used her. She felt violated and useless. Tears welled in her eyes and she brushed the away angrily before Roger could notice.
"Come on," he urged gently. As he stood his face twisted in pain as his arm moved. "We should get to the safe house before he wakes up."
"Wait," Scarlett said, as she stood up, lifting Damon into her arms. "Where…when are we?"
Roger grinned. "Welcome to 2094."
ns 15.158.61.17da2
