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lily's not sure what's worse - the eldritch abomination trying to eat reality, or her alternate timeline selves (or, heartsbloods and fuchsias in all night laundry)
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" - What? No, my nose started bleeding when we stepped through, it's not - "

Didn't it? Why hasn't she wiped it off...

"I'm fine."

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Her head hurts, too.

"...I didn't notice. Sorry." She should have.

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"It's fine." She rubs at the dried blood a bit. It flakes off. "Has anything changed in the room?"

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"No, I don't see anything new..."

"...But."

In bold, tarry letters on the window -

what kind of maggot grows in the corpse of a day?

 

"Was that writing there before?"

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"I - no, it can't have been - "

Her nose starts bleeding again. A few little drips.

"...But we saw it, and thought - someone wrote that, someone who hasn't been caught - "

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"And there's only one way to find out if they're friendly."

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She holds her nose closed until the bleeding stops. It doesn't seem too bad...

"Two timelines. One with the writing, one without. And - they're colliding in our heads."

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"The collision happened when we snapped back here."

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"Yeah."

"So."

"No more changing the past."

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She laughs suddenly. "Just like that?"

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"Just like that, as easy as one two three."

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"We'll find a closet to hide in next time."

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Giggle. 

"Well, if it's 1911 again, at least no one will know to comment on us coming out of it."

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"We'll leave it out of the story later. Closet jokes do get old."

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Small blush. But... "Dunno I have anyone to tell that story to."

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Lean.

"Well - if you have any bizarre adventures when I'm not there... You'll have me."

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"Just like that?"

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"I think the point where you've timetraveled half naked with someone is the point where you're officially friends."

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"Maybe so."

"Speaking of... C'mon. I don't want to sit around in here now..."

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"...Yeah."

And up?

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Up!

She manages to stay steady on her feet, at least.

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Always good.

She detangles from the other girl, but only slowly, and she keeps her hand near hers.

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Having the girl next to her still is... Weirdly reassuring, actually.

She straightens her clothes - then -

"My knife and screwdriver are gone."

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"Could they have fallen out?"

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"I mean, these are women's pants, so, the answer is 'it's a miracle they ever fit.'"

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