Title: there comes a time for us all
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for movie
Pairings: one-sided Nick/Cassie
Point of view: third
She first crawls into his bed when she's sixteen, after a horrible vision of the future wakes her up(they all die, again, but this time there is no changing it).
She's been Watching him her whole life, ever since Mom told her(she was three and didn't understand) that he was important, the catalyst, the potential that could save them all.
She could see years ahead, then, before actually knowing what she was doing got in the way. She'd scribble down the visions and Mom would translate, and it was a game. The best game in the world. Something that made her special, made her Mom's baby girl.
But Mom's gone, now, let herself be captured even though she could see every twist and turn of the future. Let herself be taken, after telling Cassie exactly how to get out, avoid the agents that'd be crawling the street, how to see an agent for an agent, a danger for a danger—Mom could have escaped with her. But she didn't. (You'll understand one day, sweetie. Remember to give the boy a flower.)
She first crawls into his bed when she's sixteen, when she's just dreamed of his painful and bloody death(again—sometimes it seems that all she sees is the dead and the dying), when she's crying because this time she doesn't see it changing at all.
She's been Watching him her whole life. She knows him. Mom even told her to give him a flower, to make sure they were together.
So she buries her face in his chest and sobs because he's going to die soon(again) and they'll never save Mom(she's gonegonegone) and she'll never get the chance to kiss him.
She's been Watching him since she was three. She's seen him die a hundred and fifty different ways. She's never seen him kiss her. In one future(she never ever told him about) he married Kira and had a daughter named Abigail.
He'll be dead by noon and she sees nothing she can change. Mom could, but Mom's not here(gonegonegone).
"Cassie?" he asks, arm settling along her back. "What's wrong?"
She's crying, fingers clenching in his shirt, head against his chest. "Nothing," she says.
"Okay," he mumbles, still mostly asleep. They're safe here, after all. She told him so. "See you in the mornin'."
He'll be dead by noon, she'll die screaming two minutes later, and she's not Mom.