TID short story ( Fanfiction)

Chapter 5

"I don't suppose you'll explain?" Jem said in a shaky voice, backing away from Zachariah with his heart pounding wildly in his chest. There is no way his violin could've ended up here-miles away from London, and especially not with this strange man, so unfamiliar and yet so like himself. He didn't think he would have any descendants, or passed his violin to anyone else either. It would've been long gone, along with him, hundreds of years ago.

Which brings him back to his first maddening theory.

Zachariah dipped his head. "I can't-I shouldn't. I am so sorry, Jem. I shouldn't have brought you here, much less talked to you. Magnus was right, I should've avoided you right from the beginning, but I just couldn't help myself..."

His head was spinning now, with confusion and shock. "I think... I think I'll take my leave now."

Without waiting for a reply, he darted across Zachariah and left the room in a haste. He didn't stop running, his lungs and legs burning with effort, until he tripped on something large and furry.

The thing let out a loud yowl, the hair on its back bristling with anger. Jem gasped, steadying himself before picking up the well-remembered cat and stroking the back of its ears gently. "By the angel, Church! I am so sorry. What are you doing here?"

Church stared up at him with wide yellow eyes, purring with satisfaction. It snuggled more into his arms; he could sense that the cat wouldn't be leaving his side anytime soon.

Jem sighed, and took his time walking back to his room. Perhaps all of this is just a dream.

----

Once he pushed open the door of his room, he saw Will rise immediately from the bed.

"Where have you been?" Will narrowed his eyes. "I searched everywhere for you-" he stopped short when he noticed Church nestled in his arms. "By the angel, not that devil cat again! Fate is cruel indeed, to bring us back together even hundreds of years after my own time!"

Jem didn't answer, just plopped down on the bed beside Will. Church leapt from his arms to hiss aggressively at his parabatai before curling up into a ball on the pillow. Silence was unusual for Jem, for he always had something to say to Will, however irrational he was being.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

He took in a ragged breath. "Oh no. Quite the opposite actually."

"What is it? Another duck?" Will exclaimed with pretense horror. When Jem didn't respond again, his joking mood vaporized. Something was definitely wrong. "James, what happened?"

"Call me mad, William," Jem turned his head to look at him. His face was a ghostly sheet, his silver eyes afraid. "But I think that Zachariah is the future me."

Will let out a short laugh. "What?"

"Of course I am not entirely sure. But the traits, they are there."

He pursed his lips, frowning. That is impossible, Will knew. But he had to admit that there was always something so familiar about Zachariah, the way he moved, the way he talked...

"I can tell that you agree with me," Jem placed a hand over his face.

"But that's impossible."

"No, it is. Zachariah said that he became a silent brother, and silent brothers do not age. But now he is mortal again."

"Alright. Let us just assume that Zachariah is you. What are you afraid of? Two hundred years later, and you're still alive and well. I myself however-the angel knows where or even what I am right now."