Story Summary: Jason Sadler's memories are broken into fragments. These are some of them.

Story Notes: Non-linear narrative. T for swearing. See the end of the last chapter for more extensive notes.

Content Warnings: Mental Instability, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Medication, Kidnapping, Solitary Confinement, Physical Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Every Day is Half Past Four

It's never dark, always bright light, never dim never, white and bright and endlessly lonely. Time stretches on and on and maybe it stopped. Maybe it froze you here like this and even in your time that's just fiction, science fiction, but you did it, you did it, the machine worked and you're here. Trapped by Guardians or Freelancers or maybe you're still at Riverview in the corner of the shower room babbling about going back. The idea pervades your thoughts consuming everything. Getting back, getting home, and if the Guardians/Freelancers/kidnappers/monsters can go back and forth, then why can't you?

Is it a week later or two weeks? You don't feel hungry here, your bowels don't move, there's no thirst, only air holes at the top they can close to torture you. Time has to have stopped. Then why are you conscious and counting the seconds? What year is it? "What year is it?" you almost asked someone, before picking up a newspaper, because paper still exists here, and the feel of it under your fingers was alien.

Alien. Aliens. Is that what these men are? They say they're defending the timeline. Who decides what happens? You failed fail fail. Are they not satisfied you speak to ghosts, now? Like Father…always Father.

"Why is it so important to get back to 2077?" they asked at Riverview. "Did you leave a family behind? A wife, children?"

You laugh, imagining giving your girlfriend a ring and asking her to marry you, imagining her saying yes and never knowing if it was for you or the Sadler fortune.

You miss the taste of her but can't remember why.

"My father," you say. "I want...need to get back to my father."

The social worker smiles and pats your hand.

Warren sneers through the glass.