Borrowed Time - Hour 5

Borrowed Time - Hour 5

Heaven felt like a soft, comfy velvet couch. Scents of musty books and fragranced roses filter through the fabric. Heaven. Bliss. Lowe's head rested on a feathered pillow, so soft she wanted to sink herself into it and never come back up. It felt like a cloud, cool and light and fluffy, and lulled her into deeper sleep. The inside of her eyelids felt so inviting, sleep felt so quiet and calm. In fact, she would have slept in her heaven forever if the two people she loathed the most weren't arguing over her while she pretended to sleep.

"…troublesome. That's what she is. Trouble. The quintessence of trouble."

"Zeit, that’s not nice."

"Am I ever a nice person, Eshe?"

"Hardly. You're a royal ass."

"Amen." He muttered a stark, sharp word in German, then asked impatiently, "Is she awake yet?"

Eshe gave a haggard, tired sigh. "Yes, Zeit."

His voice was strained. "Since when?"

"Since you started caring about her."

A ghost of a smile wound its way onto Lowe's lips, although she tried to hide it in a frown. It didn't work.

"Bloody Hell," Zeit whined. "Why didn't you tell me? Look, now she's going to get ideas!"

Lowe opened her eyes, and found both Eshe and Zeit leaning over her. Eshe looked beautiful still, her dark flushed skin rosy and smooth, her dreads pinned up in a sloppy bun. She had that beautiful sort of Jamaican look about her, with warm orange eye shadow and pink glossy lipstick. She was wrapped in a fluffy white fur coat, and had specks of snowflakes sprinkled across her hair. A fairy of winter.

Zeit, on the other hand, looked awful. Sunken cheeks, pale skin, sleepless purple rings around his eyes. His silver hair hung gray, and his ever-ticking eyes were listless and hollow. His hands that gripped onto the side of the sofa were gnarled and bony, as if she could take them and snap them in two like twigs. Her heart stung until she realized it was beating, and that she was breathing. Was she…

"Am I alive?" she gasped and wiggled her way into a sitting position under the three layers of blankets. Wonder sparkled in her eyes as she examined her whole, healthy pink hands. "I am alive!"

"Thanks to me," Zeit muttered gruffly.

She felt her face and laughed. No cuts! No gashes! No gory mess! She was alive --- whole --- living!

"Oh no, you don't have to thank me," he muttered sarcastically. "I just, you know, saved you from the incubo single-handedly, carried you inside, and called Eshe to give you a heartbeat. Oh no, no thank yous are required."

Lowe looked back at Zeit with a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "You…you were the one who saved me?"

"Who else would come to your rescue?"

"Well, why did you? And why are you so old?"

At that, he looked away quickly. "None of your business."

"And how can Eshe give me a heartbeat when she said she couldn't?" She turned to the dark-skinned woman, who also couldn't meet her gaze. "What? Why won't you answer me?"

Zeit gripped the back of the couch firmly, his hands shaking with anger. "Be happy and stop asking questions."

"No," Lowe replied. "I demand an answer!"

"Well you won't get one!" the old man snarled.

"Why?"

Refusing to answer, Zeit flung his hands into the air and spat another flurry of German words, sharp and scathing. Eshe winced at each one of them, the snowflakes finally melted to her skin and hair. She answered Lowe softly. "Dear, sometimes its better not to know."

"Not know?" Lowe scoffed. "You're shitting me."

"FINE!" Zeit spun back, his eyes sinking into a cold, cold black. The hands in his eyes began spinning in a fury. "You have MY heartbeat. You're breathing MY breath. You're living MY life. You walked on MY time. Is that answer enough for you?!" He flung his hand across the air and knocked over a vase on a podium. It shattered on the ground, and Zeit's hand shook. Silence filled the study until finally he gathered himself with regal poise, straightened his tux now too big for his scrawny grandpa bones, and stalked out of study without a word.

Lowe lowered her eyes to her hands again, and fisted them. Eshe pulled a dread behind her ear and sat on the couch beside Lowe's legs. She patted Lowe's legs reassuringly, and said in a tender voice, "He's just wound up right now, hon. You'll see. He's really not all that bad."

The young woman tightened her throat to keep herself from saying something she really shouldn't.

"You know, he had never been late to a pool game until today." She smiled and distantly watched the study door. "He's never let anyone else see him that old before either."

"Why does he get that old?"

But Eshe just shrugged. "It's not my place to tell, hon."

"Can you answer why I have his…his…" she motioned to her chest and sucked in a lungful of breath. The thought of his heartbeat inside of her was unnatural, much more than the realization that she had walked on his time. Zeit's time.

Eshe tilted back her head and watched the ceiling fan rotate on slow, creaky hinges. "The incubo are estranged creatures who hunt for abnormalities in time. Such as souls with borrowed time, like you. Zeit didn't think they would come after you…he also didn't think you'd run, either."

Lowe winced.

"If you would've stayed in the house, they would not have found you," she sighed and shook her head, "but I couldn't blame you for running. I would have done the same. So, instead of giving you borrowed time again, and in knowing you would probably sprint again ---"

This time, Lowe glared at Eshe with annoyance.

"--- he called me to put his life in you, and let him walk on the borrowed time."

Annoyance melted into anger --- anger at herself for running in the first place, for not thinking things through, and for being a tad bit selfish.

"Hon, he was doing all he could to fix his mistake."

"His mistake?"

"You weren't supposed to die. It was a…a mistake on his part."

Lowe scoffed. "Oh, lemme guess, he set my clock too early."

Eshe shook her head. "No, someone tampered with your time."

"With my ---" she knelt up and threw the covers off her " -- my time? Who the hell would do that? Death?"

"I'm not allowed to point blames."

"Anza?"

Eshe gave her a level glare with a raised eyebrow.

"Zeit?"

"Never," it was a whisper.

"Then who?"

"Good question," she stood and brushed herself off, although she wasn't dirty in the least. She looked at one of the twelve clocks constantly ticking on the back wall, and dug for her mittens in her parka pockets. "Listen, hon, try to be nicer to Zeit, will you?"

Lowe didn't reply.

"Hon, not all of us are as vocal as you. Some people bottle themselves up. Others point fingers at others. And then people like Zeit try to look indifferent."

"He is indifferent."

The deity of Life flipped up her furry hood and tugged it tightly around her face until she looked like a born Eskimo, "If he was, then why does he keep saving you?" And with that, she burst into bright golden sunlight.

Lowe sat where she was, in the dark and gloomy study, staring at the dark crimson walls, her mind all a fuzz with so many questions, guilt, and memories. Zeit was the one who called her name as the incubo ripped the watch from her. He had come to her rescue when she had called him. But why, oh why did she call him in the first place? It wasn't like her to rely on someone else, not since her Mom passed away. Ever since she first met Zeit, she had the sinking suspicion of who he was, and she could come to her own conclusions. She had always known deep down who he was. No one needed to tell her.

Zeit had killed her Mom, technically. He stopped her time. He could have let her walk on borrowed time too. He could have at least done that. And that, she realized, was why she hated Zeit. Not because of what he did to her, but because of what he didn't do for her Mom. What he could have done.

But she knew Zeit wasn't one to bend the rules. Not unless something went horribly wrong. Like someone tampering with her time. "Who'd do that?" she muttered irritably and tucked her knees to her chest.

She sat, pondering, until Zeit wandered into the study room again, needing to reset a watch. He didn't pay any attention to the curled up form of Lowe, huddled in the corner of the couch with the three blankets wrapped around her, as he opened the cases with hundreds of watches, selected a gold pocket watch with intricate angelic designs, and twisted back the hour hand. He set it in time with the third clock on his wall, nodded, and placed the watch back in its spot. It was after he had finished checking all of his watches when he spoke, "I'm sorry."

She looked up, startled. "For what?"

"Letting someone tamper with your time."

"I don't know who'd do it…I mean, I don't have any enemies. I'm usually invisible in school…who'd do it?"

He shrugged, but Lowe had the distinct feeling that he knew something. Instead, he tended to a Disney watch.

She looked down to the silver watch clasp around his wrist, and instead tried a different approach, Eshe's words of wisdom ringing clearly in her ears. "Will the incubo come after you now?"

He smirked. "They wouldn't dare."

"How'd you kick that incubo's ass?"

"The normal float like a butterfly sting like a bee thing."

His voice was so nonchalant, she couldn't help but to laugh. "You, boxing?"

"Maybe," this time when he smirked, the age lines disappeared. He didn't notice, but Lowe certainly did.

Her eyes darkened with an idea. Maybe I can fix at least one thing. "Maybe as in boxing maybe, or as in running away screaming with the incubo chasing after you maybe?"

"I don't run," he put the Disney watch back, "I float."

"Like a butterfly."

"Yes."

"So you did run."

He gave another tale-tell shrug, his eyes brighter, clearer, the clock hands inside so pristine and dark against glowing blue.

He's enjoying himself! Lowe thought, surprised. "And you chased the monster away?"

"The best I could. I'm not a fighter, Lowe."

It was the first time he had ever said her name --- truly said her name. Something inside of her squirmed. Something unsettling. Something amazing. She stood, the multi-colored quilts draped around her like a huge cocoon. "But what if he comes again?"

"She won't," he replied, and finally closed the watch cupboard for the last time. He ran his eyes across each watch to reassure himself that they were all on time, then turned to Lowe. When he noticed she stood with all three quilts wrapped around her, he asked with concern, "Are you cold?"

"Freezing."

He nodded. "It happens. Here, I'll light a fire in the hearth for you."

"No, you really don't have t---"

"I insist," he replied as he faced her directly, and another decade washed away. His tux almost fit again. He turned and made his way across the crowded book-covered study to the ancient cobwebbed hearth.

Does he notice? she wondered. He has to know he's getting younger again… About to say something about it, she thought differently and proceeded to make small talk. It was better than the alternative anyway. It felt like years since she had a nice normal conversation with someone. "So, Zeit…that's German, right?"

"Yes. Ever taken German in school?"

"No. My great grandmother was German, but I never met her."

"Beautiful country, despite the wars and such. I grew up in Berlin ---" he stopped himself with a start, and began chunking wood into the fireplace. A sudden coldness settled between them.

OK, so no talk about his past. Understood. "My full name's ---"

"Lowe Michelle Engels. I know."

"Oh…of course." She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "Stalker," she muttered.

He turned back to face her, matchbox in one hand, lit match in the other. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, stalker."

"Oh don't flatter yourself," he scoffed. Something in his face changed again. Grew younger. "Like anyone would actually stalk y---"

"Zeit?"

"What?" he replied irritably, his face smoothing still.

"The match---" and just as she said that, the flamed nipped at the tip of his thumb and first finger. He yelped and tossed the match into fire, stood, and began pacing with his fingers in his mouth, murmuring explicit English curse words Lowe could very-well understand. She quickly dropped her warm blankets and hopped over the couch to him. "See?" She took his hand out of his mouth and examined his fingers. They were red, and would blister later. "This is what you get for arguing with me."

"I wasn't arguing," he snapped and snatched his hand back. "And you started it."

"Did not," she toyed, and watched as the wrinkles on his forehead ironed out, as the dark circles faded, as his hollow cheeks regained color.

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too!"

"Did NOT!"

"DID T---"

She smiled and fingered a lock of his platinum blonde hair. He froze, startled. "The portrait really doesn't do anything for you," she said.

He reeled back and felt his face. Young, familiar. He darted his alluring blue eyes back to her with a mixture of blame and curiosity. "W-What did you do?"

"I don't know," Lowe replied truthfully. "I think I got your mind off Despair."

"D-Despair?" he asked, confused. "I wasn’t…" but he too knew he was in despair. He blinked and regained his composure as he straightened his fitting tux, and knelt again to the hearth. "That isn't your place to mettle."

"I wasn't," she replied softly, afraid he was mad. "I'm not." She bent to the hearth too, and picked up the matchbox. "I just needed someone to talk to get my mind off despair."

"Selfish," he scoffed.

"Just a little," she smiled.

The first match had already caught a bit of the dry wood on fire, but Lowe struck another match and tossed it in to help the fire grow, and soon a blazing hearth roared in the fireplace. Above them, she heard Anza's footsteps and wondered what she was doing, but a suspicion tattled that Anza had heard every word and was currently relishing in her victory.

Lowe and Zeit pulled up two chairs and sat near the hearth, and didn't speak another word while listening to the fire pop and fizzle. Lowe wrapped herself in her quilts again, and Zeit busied himself with fixing a broken watch. One that looked a lot like the one around his wrist.

"Hey, who's watch is that?"

"Yours."

Lowe gave a start. "What?"

"It's yours," he replied again, and handed it to her.

"It looks like yours!"

"Does it?" he asked nonchalantly.

"DUH! I mean ---" she inspected the watch inside out, and found the only difference to be her initials carved on the inside wristband. Just to think, while others had expensive golden watches, she ended up with a cheap knock-off Rolex. "---Hey, wait. Could someone have destroyed mine thinking it was yours?"

Zeit neglected to answer.

"Answer me please!"

"I don't know," he replied levelly, "but I do know that I do not like your tone." Slowly, his hair began to shrivel to silver again.

Lowe snuggled into her covers and bit her fist to keep herself from raging at him, remembering Eshe's words. He only meant the best, after all. And he probably knew from the start that they had smashed her watch on accident when clearly thinking it was his. "Sorry," she muttered after a while. "I'm just…just…"

"Mad. I know."

"No, not mad. Not really." She fingered her crushed watch tenderly.

Zeit raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Then what?"

"Shocked. Scared that this is happening to me."

"I never meant for ---"

"I know. Stop kissing ass. I hate that." To Lowe's surprise, he grinned and shrugged. "And don't do that either! Just because you're all suave and smooth-ish doesn't mean you gotta flaunt it."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

"Am not!"

"Are TOO ---"

"--- We're not starting that again!" Blonde again. No older than her. He stood and placed his hands on his hips. "You know, you're really annoying."

"So are you!"

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am no---and stop laughing!" He stomped his foot, but Lowe couldn't stop her fit of giggles. She held her sides and collapsed on the ground in fits of hysterics. He towered over her, foot tapping impatiently, hands commandingly on his hips. "Am I that funny?" he demanded.

"No!" she squeaked between giggles. "We both are!" And, again, she burst into another round of giggles. He watched her nonchalantly, but not even he could disguise the sides of his lips twitching into a smile. When she had calmed, she looked back up to his towering form. "OhMyGod, I never thought I could laugh in front of you, you know? I always thought I'd hate you, you know? But I don't. I don't think I ever could!"

"And how did this change of heart come about?"

To that, she frowned. "It didn't. I just realized, you know. Why I didn't like you."

"And why's that?"

"Because you could've saved Mom, right? You could've given her more time too. Borrowed time."

His face darkened. "That's not what ---"

"--- But I realized she wouldn't have wanted that anyway." Lowe lied on her back and looked up to the ceiling. "And it wouldn't have been right. And you don't call the shots anyway, do you? You just keep time."

"So you figured me out."

"Yes sir, Father Time."

"He died," he bluntly stated. Lowe gave him a wide-eyed look, so he explained, "I'm actually the third Time. Grandson Time or whatever." He shrugged and put his hands into his pockets. "No blood correlation, of course."

She nodded and sat up. "Thanks for saving me."

"Which time?" he asked, squatting down.

"Both times."

"Huh." He looked down, and then back at her. They were not even three inches away from each other. "You're welcome."

"Isn't this sweet," seethed a voice from the fire. Zeit grabbed Lowe's forearm and shoved her behind the couch before the fireplace burst with flames, and out stepped a visitor, his henchmen skeletons who chattered their teeth and rattled their bones in cackling laughter. Lowe gulped and sank down behind the couch. "Nice look, Zeit. When was the last time I saw you that young? The day you died, right?"

"What are you doing here Death?" he growled.

"My Lolita died again, Zeit. She's past her expiration date now. I've come to claim her." Death fixated his golden eyes on Lowe, grinned, and the skeletons lunged.