Hello! I re-read Plight recently, and like a psycho I couldn't help but imagine what things would be like after they returned. I had to write it. This is more of a passion project for myself than anything else, so please don't feel pressured to read it, but it is here if you would like. It is also stupidly long, because I could not stop, sooo oops. It's about 2x what a normal chapter of mine would be.

I do apologize that characters like Hubert, Bev, Tim, and Ivy are not explicitly in it, but obviously Bev and Hubert were too far back in time, and I didn't imagine they would find Tim and Ivy the same way. 

In the next chapter are what I imagine Clara and Maverick's letters to Mickey and Alvaro would look like, so please check those out if you're interested :)

I'm tagging the people whose characters are in this story, but again I apologize if you are not interested and please do not feel pressured to read this long mess I wrote!

curiosityanddreams ceaseless-watchr Splenxst sc0rpih0e cryptidminds thnkspwte essenceofhoney golden-rebel _callmeRae

New York City, 1912

"Okay now, move your arm up a little further. Like that, yes." The photographer commanded, and Maverick did as he was told, resting his hand on Clara's shoulder. Clara was seated while Maverick stood behind her, his other hand behind his back.

They had been attempting to get this photo for the last hour or so, and the photographer was growing tired of them as Clara could not stop laughing. They were expected to stare on, blank -faced and distant, but Clara just felt silly. Every time she laughed, Maverick would crack a smile as well, while the photographer groaned and rolled his eyes. Clara's hands were folded neatly in her lap, and she forced herself to pinch at her palm in an attempt to ground herself and not giggle.

The photographer snapped the camera, breathing out a sigh of relief and nodding his head.

"Yes, I think we've gotten it."

With that, Clara quickly stood and ushered Maverick from the room, both whispering and giggling the whole way out. It was no surprise that rumors spread amongst the staff and Maverick's colleagues that they were the two most lovesick spouses in all of the city. While Clara was 38 and Maverick 43, they still smiled and flitted about their penthouse or their mansion upstate like a couple of teenagers with a secret. Maverick had never been caught with a mistress, and Clara never complained to the other wives about her husband, so they were essentially the gold standard.

Of course, their secret was simple; they loved each other deeply, but they were not in love.

"Are you going to be seeing Jay tonight?" Clara questioned, helping Maverick out of his coat. Jay was a man they had met through Maverick's work as an investment banker, who came from a wealthy family and had caused whispers and confusion when he still was not married at the age of 35. Maverick and him had been seeing each other for the past 3 years, and Clara did truly like him, though she knew he did not like her.

Their situation was a difficult one, and it was no surprise that Jay did not understand it. He could not believe that Maverick had told his wife, and he often expressed that Maverick needed to get a better hold on her, lest she reveal their secret to the world. The implication offended Clara, though she knew she should not be surprised. The world was not changing overnight. She was still viewed as something to be owned, so when she spoke out of turn or commanded something of Maverick, others looked on in horror. She was seen as out of control property, and Maverick was seen as weakened by his love for. Perhaps that view was still better than the truth, though.

Before Maverick could answer, Clara began to cough. He quickly urged her into a seat; his seat, in his study. She was doubled over with her efforts, and Maverick supplied a handkerchief for her to cover her mouth. The cough had started about two weeks back, and while Clara insisted that she was fine, Maverick had his doubts.

"Not if you're feeling unwell." Maverick kneeled before her once her heavy coughs had subsided. "I can call Dr. Thompson to make a house visit, he can—"

"I'm fine, Mav." Clara cut him off. 17 years later, and she was still stubborn as ever. Maverick often smiled at the thought. "Please, go spend your time with him. I know your encounters have been happening less and less."

Maverick studied her face for a moment, trying to find a way in to change her mind, but she was solid and unwavering. After a moment, he bit down on his lip and nodded before straightening up. He paused, placing a kiss to her hair, then exited the room to go change in his quarters.

Clara knew she was unwell. She knew something was wrong. She didn't want to worry Maverick, though. They had a countdown on a calendar on his desk, the date of March 5, 1926 circled. Although Flo had already been born, they knew she would not know them until that date. Clara and he had many plans, knowing they would find her the moment she got back, but Clara feared she did not have 13 years left in her. Which meant she certainly wouldn't have the 20-something years required to see Adwin, nor the 36 required to see Mickey. By their calculations, Adwin was probably recently born, which was odd to her. The most mature man she had ever met was no more than a baby. Mickey was not yet born, in fact his parents were probably younger than her at this very moment. She feared she would die in a world where Mickey did not yet exist and where Hubert was long gone, which did not seem right.

Clara took some blank pieces of paper from Mavericks desk, and began writing letters to each of them. She'd had nearly two decades to think of all the things she did wrong, all the things she should have said, and she would be damned if she let something as silly as death keep her from sharing.

In his quarters, Maverick loosened his tie and pulled down his suspenders before beginning to unbutton his shirt. While his mind should have been on Jay, it was instead on Clara. She had grown to be his very best friend, something the others surely would find odd when he got the chance to tell them. With her at his side, he had built a life he had only ever dreamed of before. They had moved to New York a few years after they married, with Maverick using the knowledge of the future that Clara had gathered to become an extremely successful investment banker. He owned his own firm, in fact, and was the main funding source for aircrafts (he had thought Clara was mad when she had told him to put all of their money towards the invention, but she assured him that it would be worth their wild).

As he dressed in more casual attire, his mind wandered to Alvaro. This did not happen as often as it once had, but he supposed he could not help it. Sometimes, Clara and he would stay up late by the fire before retiring to their separate rooms, and Clara would read him classic romance novels. He loved Jay, and he had loved a few before him, but Alvaro was his first love. In those stories, that was always enough to overcome everything; in Maverick's case, time and taboo were a bit stronger of forces. He knew he would not live to see Alvaro again, and he knew that was for the best. That did not mean it hurt any less.

Clara and Maverick were not frozen by their shared tragedies. They were both strong forces, stronger than Maverick had ever imagined. They were successful, and popular, and well liked amongst the New York elite. They had fought tooth and nail to make a happy life for themselves, but that did not mean that sometimes, when they were out on Maverick's boat, staring out at the expanse of the sea, they wished the water would pull them in once more. Without ever saying it aloud, they both knew they would trade all of their riches for one day in any time or place across the entire Earth's history, with the group of strangers they had grown to love.

—

New York City, 1926

On March 6th, 1926, Flo received a knock on her door. She had stayed up until the early hours of the morning, drawing dresses on a model who was undoubtedly Bev. She assumed it would be an acquaintance of her's, Margaret, chastising her for not showing up last night, but instead found Maverick, his hat held to his chest. He was older, much older than when she had seen him yesterday, with gray peppering his brown hair and wrinkles around his eyes. Still, he looked kind, and somewhat bashful, and although they never had been close, Flo pulled him quickly into her arms.

Flo found that he felt very skinny, and if it weren't for his obviously expensive suit, she would fear that he'd spent the last 35 years living in squalor. When she pulled back, she studied him, finding that there were tears in his eyes to match the ones growing in her own.

"This is so very strange." Flo breathed out, before stepping aside. "Come in, come in. How did you find me?"

"Clara and I..." Maverick paused, and Flo heard the way his voice pinched up. Her heart ached at the mention of Clara's name, wondering if she would get to see her soon, too. She imagined her with curly gray hair but the same fierce eyes, and she wanted to smile. "We spent some time searching for you for years, so we would be able to find you when you returned."

"And where is she?" Flo cocked her head to the side. She still felt sick, and miserable, and like none of what she had before had any meaning. But Maverick was there, proving to her that it all had been real, and that helped. When Maverick chose to look away rather than answer, Flo realized. She brought a hand to her mouth and shook her head. "No."

"1921." Maverick nodded solemnly, and Flo wanted to scream. That was only 5 years ago. She had been so close. A small smile grew on Maverick's face as he spoke his next words. "I think she held on long enough to vote, but she'd grown very weak in the last years of her life. Consumption. She fought it like hell for years, but..."

Flo collapsed on her couch, the feeling of her soft velvet throw blanket warming her. Yesterday, she had come to terms with the fact that Bev was gone, for she had lived her life so long ago. She hadn't even considered that Clara or Maverick would be, too. It was all too much to take in, and she sobbed so hard that she didn't feel Maverick wrap himself around her. They stayed like that for some time, until Flo found her voice.

"And Adwin?" She sniffled, rubbing at her nose.

"Still in Germany, I suppose." Maverick responded grimly. "Adwin was always so careful not to share things about his time, it's going to be hard for us to find him. Through things that Mickey told Clara, we know that he came from a time before Mickey but after you. That's about all that we have to go off of."

Flo shook her head furiously, thinking back to the night where Adwin warned her about the future of the country.

"No, no. He is from the 30s, he warned me that another war would be coming and that there would be an economic crash soon and–oh dear, tell me you are well protected for the crash?" Flo went off track through her rambling, her eyes wide.

"I am." Maverick smiled softly. "Mickey told Clara about all of it, too. I suppose I shouldn't have gone the wall street route for that reason, but it's no matter now. I've made more money than I could ever need, and I no longer have anyone to share it with. I'm retired, essentially, though the bank still holds my name. I will be fine when things go bad, and so will you, and so will the others."

Flo stared at him in confusion, and began to feel like her head was hurting. None of what he had just said made much sense to her, and her mind kept trailing off to Clara, whom she would never see again. She sat up, freeing herself from Mavericks arms, and rubbed her eyes.

"Come on, we should get something to eat. I can explain everything better then." Maverick stood and offered a hand to Flo, who after a moment expected it.

They went to a diner just outside the city, and Flo did not bother to ready herself in a way that she would have before. Flo oggled Maverick's car, coming to the conclusion that between his suit and his automotive, he had done very well for himself. Once inside, Maverick explained everything. He told her how he had found Clara, how they had married in Canada before relocating to New York City. He told her stories of their time together, and Flo knew that he had grown to love her. Without saying as much, Flo realized that Maverick was lonely, with no intentions to remarry another woman after Clara and no one to share his success with.

Maverick did not tell her about Jay, whom he had broken up with shortly after Clara's passing. Jay did not understand Maverick's grief, mistaking his sadness for some sort of romantic affection that he had hidden. Maverick supposed no one would understand, for no one had lived in the past, present, and future but he and Clara. Now he had Flo, though, and he knew she would understand.

Finally, Maverick told Flo that he had made enough money to share his wealth with her, and the others, and that when he was gone too, his entire estate would go to them. Flo didn't want to think about Maverick passing, not when, to her, he was just a young man yesterday, but she listened anyway. At the end of their meal, Maverick gave Flo a letter from Clara, but she found she was not ready to open it anytime soon.

—

Chicago, 1933

When Adwin went to the library to search through records and try to find a Flo McWilliams, he thought it would be an impossible task. Instead, he found something else quite quickly. Maverick Donovan, business tycoon and former Wall Street elite. He was in the newspaper, something about him donating large sums to orphanages and working at soup kitchens. Adwin had to read and reread the article a dozen times before it had finally set in. He tore through a business history textbook, finding Maverick amongst the likes of John D. Rockefeller and J.P. Morgan.

Adwin sat back in his chair, and he laughed. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid, because prior to Alaque, he had never heard of Maverick before. They had changed history, and for some reason he wasn't even upset about it. Maverick was alive, and real, and successful. He deserved that, Adwin thought.

Adwin left the library and went straight to the train station, using what little money he had to buy a ticket for the next train to New York City. He wasn't sure how he would find Maverick, but he would. From there, he would find Flo. Maybe Clara, too.

Despite the exhaustion that had filled his body from the moment he got back, he found he couldn't sleep throughout the entire train ride. This was so very unlike him, but he needed to go. He had the newspaper with him, and he found himself unable to stop reading it. The article mentioned that while Maverick had become more of a recluse in his later years, retiring to his estate in upstate New York and rarely being seen out after the passing of his wife, he still had kept his philanthropic endeavors strong. Adwin tried to picture Maverick with a wife, but found it impossible. Though they had never spoken of such things, Adwin had noticed the way that Maverick only seemed happy in the presence of Alvaro. Most likely, Maverick married to appease expectations, but the thought did little to make Adwin feel better.

He wasn't sure what he would do when he got into the city. He supposed he could search records and find Maverick's address, but then he would have to hail a cab out of the city and go upstate, which he surely didn't have the money for. Adwin was not an adventurer, and he was not someone who rushed into something without a plan, so he felt at that moment like maybe he wasn't himself at all. If he began to speak French and curse Hubert, he would not be surprised. Perhaps the spectre was still within him.

When he arrived in New York City, he was as lost as he anticipated. He spent some time asking strangers if they knew Maverick Donovan, before realizing that he probably appeared mad. He then began to ask for the directions to the nearest library, but was stopped in his place on the way there. Through the crowd, he saw a girl approaching him with a stack of magazines in her arms. Her head was down, perusing the cover page of one of them, but he would recognize her anywhere. Even now, slightly aged but still so beautiful. A long coat fell to her ankles, fur trim around the collar. Her blonde hair was curled perfectly and pinned back, a hat sitting lopsided atop her head. People brushed into Adwin, urging him to keep moving, but he was frozen.

Flo finally looked up, and her eyes fell on him, too. She dropped her stack of magazines without a care and barreled towards Adwin, slowed only by her heels as she leapt into his open arms. He spun her there, not caring what anyone else in the world could possibly say. It had all been real, and her weight in his arms proved as much.

"We've been trying to find you!" Flo sobbed out, feeling her feet touch the ground as he set her down. "We didn't even know if you were in America, or Canada, or what year to search, but... You're here!"

Adwin pulled back and studied her with a smile. She didn't appear much older than him, but somehow much older than days before. She suited the outfit she wore now much better than the dress she had been given before, but he didn't say as much. "We?"

"Well, Maverick and I." Flo smiled up at him. "Oh darling, I wasn't prepared to tell you everything alone. Maverick is so much better at this than me." Flo took his hands in her own, pleading with him with her eyes. "Please, please don't ask me any questions just yet. I can take you to see him, he will do such a better job."

Although Adwin wanted to ask her everything, he also did not want to push her. So, in lieu of a response, Adwin simply nodded his head, smiled once more, and stole another hug from her. Flo guided him to the train station, assuring him the whole time that her work can wait and that the magazines that had been taken with the wind could be replaced. She paid his fare, despite his protests, then called Maverick from a payphone at the station. She told him to have a ride waiting for them there. Adwin used the phone to call his school, whose number he had memorized, and told them he would need a few days off due to feeling terribly unwell. He did not like lying, or letting down his students, but he had to go.

On the train, Flo explained how she was working at a luxury fashion brand in the city, with plans to start her own brand once the economy rebounded. Adwin thought about the looming war and internally wondered if even then would be a good time to start a brand, but did not say so aloud. He noticed that her ring finger was bare, and hated himself for being relieved.

Once they arrived, a driver was waiting for them. Adwin had expected it to be Maverick, and he was slightly disappointed that he couldn't make the trip himself. Flo seemed to pick up on his disappointment.

"Maverick doesn't leave the house much these days." Flo whispered from beside him, where they both sat in the back seat. "He's... Well, you'll see. He's not well. He's been trying to hold on until we found you, and I think he wants to live long enough to see Mickey, but..." She trailed off, her eyes looking out the window at the passing scenery. "I know it will be jarring, but I want you to be prepared to see him much older. Please don't dwell on it too long, I think it makes him a bit sad."

Adwin was of course prepared to see Maverick older. He assumed he would be in his 60s, which was odd to think. When they were in Alaque, he was older than Maverick. Now, Maverick had him beat by decades.

"And Miss Bennet?" Adwin looked at Flo.

Flo bit down on her lip, glancing at him for only a second before returning her eyes to the window. "I said no questions, darling."

That was all the answer Adwin needed.

Once they arrived, Adwin was shocked to find he was much less prepared to see Maverick than he had anticipated. He was old, and frail, and his posture had gotten worse as he aged. Still, upon seeing Adwin, he straightened up and hugged him like they were old friends. He supposed to Maverick, they were. To him, he was a guy he had seen only yesterday.

"You look good, Adwin." Maverick clapped him on the shoulder, looking over him with a smile.

Adwin smiled back, though it was hard. Adwin looked around from where they stood in the large mansion's foyer, taking it all in. He cracked a small, teasing smile. "It seems you have built a beautiful life for yourself."

"You can thank Mickey for that." Maverick winked. He wanted to say Clara's name, too, but it had grown harder to think about her the older he got. Still, had Mickey not shared all of the secrets of history with her, then they never would have been able to know where to work and put their money to be so successful. "I don't suppose you've come to lecture me on messing with history, but if you have I'll have you know that I am your elder now." Maverick teased, pointing a finger at Adwin.

"Well, it seems you altered history and the world didn't end, so what do I know." Adwin smiled back sheepishly, feeling so very odd and so very young. "Flo promised me that upon arriving here, you would tell me everything."

With that, Maverick straightened up once more and led them both into the sitting room. He called for one of his staff to make some tea, and waited for it to arrive before drawing the doors closed to give them privacy.

Much like with Flo, he started from the beginning and told Adwin his history. His mind wasn't what it once was, though, so he stumbled on dates and forgot a few details. When he got to Clara's death, he cried, and Flo placed her hand in Maverick's, giving it a light squeeze. She feared she no longer had any tears left for those she lost, as she had spent years grieving them. There was a sort of comfort in knowing that Hubert's wife had reworked the very laws of nature to stay mortal with him, because to Flo that meant there was another option after death. She knew that Bev and Clara would be waiting for her there, probably exploring every facet of the afterlife hand-in-hand.

When Maverick began to wrap up his retellings, he grabbed an envelope off the side table. This one had Adwin's name on it, and Maverick explained Clara had left it for him. He also explained the money he had set aside for him, an amount so high that Adwin's eyes bulged. He would be able to bring his family to America with that amount and buy them a separate house to stay in. With the news, he couldn't help himself, so he threw his arms around Maverick's neck.

Maverick chuckled, which turned into a cough, and Adwin pulled back. He watched as Flo rubbed his back soothingly, her eyes soft and her jaw tight. When Maverick regained his composure, he cleared his throat and pulled out three more envelopes.

"I don't imagine I have much more time left on this Earth. Certainly not enough time to see Mickey, so I want to give these to you both." He held the envelopes out, and it was Adwin who accepted them. Flo had begun to cry, softly. It appeared she did still have tears to grieve the living. "Clara wrote these to both Mickey and Alvaro, and the third is for Alvaro from me. When I pass, my entire estate will go to the both of you. Sell it, if you please, though you should not have to with the money you've been left. Ensure that Mickey and Alvaro get their fair share as well, and try to look after each other. It's what Clara and I always wanted."

"How are we supposed to find them?" Adwin furrowed his brows. He had been so careful not to share anything, and had instructed the others to do the same. Of course, Mickey had clearly not listened. Maverick smiled at that, a smile that said he had all the answers for any of Adwin's concerns.

"Boston Common. March 5th, 1947. Mickey told Clara he was at a bench near the entrance of the park when he was pulled underwater. With you and Flo, I wanted to give you guys your space to resituate yourselves before coming to you; with Mickey, I suggest you find him right away. I fear he will panic otherwise." Maverick smiled sadly. "Alvaro was never as specific with me, but I know that he came from 1971 and was in New York City. I suspect now that he had ties to the mafia, though he never said as much, so I suggest you both be careful. Don't snoop around and try to find him too soon, or they might get suspicious."

Adwin gulped, and Flo straightened her back, while Maverick simply laughed. If he were to live until March of 1971, he would be 101. The thought of Alvaro returning and seeing him like that made him feel sick. He only would want to live that long if Alvaro could live that long beside him. Now, he had made peace with the life he had made for himself, and for Clara. He'd had a stroke a year back, and the look on his doctor's faces each time they saw him told him it wasn't good. He didn't know how much time he had left, but he was happy he got to see Adwin at the very least.

"And what about Tim and Ivy?" Adwin pushed on, finding that this question was the only possible one that could stump Maverick.

"Go to Tim if you must, share the money with him if you see it to be fit, though I doubt Mickey and Alvaro would like it. I'm not sure where you would find him or Ivy, because we know nearly nothing about them. In fact, Ivy could have been from hundreds of years from now. If you find either of them, the decision is yours. I used to hold a lot of regret about exiling Tim, but knowing now that we all returned to our timelines, I've grown neutral. He didn't kill Ivy, and he didn't kill himself. All he did was get them both out of Alaque."

Adwin gulped and nodded, and Flo's eyes found him. He decided that he would search for Tim, and if he found him, he would share. Flo's eyes told him that she felt the same way.

Maverick passed 3 months later. While many people attended the funeral that Flo and Adwin did not know, it felt as if they were the only people there. Flo liked to imagine that from the moment Maverick went, looking frail and sickly on his deathbed, his spirit emerged and took the glowing form of him at 23. She imagined him handsome and healthy albeit a spirit, and he imagined Clara was waiting there for him. Although she was wrecked, truly devastated, she found that she was jealous of him, too. He was with sweet Bev and strong Clara.

Adwin was more composed at the funeral, holding Flo's hand and anchoring her down to earth. He was grateful for the three extra months he had gotten with Maverick, even if most of their communication was through letters and phone calls as Adwin had returned to Chicago. He continued working as a teacher, despite having enough money to retire, because he loved teaching. His family had arrived in the states a month ago, after Adwin had done sufficient pleading and convincing that the socio economic climate did not look safe for them. What really convinced them was the promise of a house, which he would pay for. They did not question where he got the money, but instead were just thankful to get away from Germany's depleted economic state.

Flo and he had grown closer as well, and Adwin was struck with the confirmation of something that he long since knew; he loved her. He knew that she loved him, too, but that she also loved Bev. This was something she revealed through drunken tears during one of his visits to the city, and he held her through her sobs and grief. Flo never mentioned Bev or Clara or Hubert, unless she was drunk.

It was the summer, so Adwin had off work and he planned to stay at Maverick's home and help Flo clear things out. They didn't plan to sell the place, not until they found Mickey and Alvaro and got their take on things. When they found Mickey, he would be 37 nearing 38, and Flo would be 44. When they found Alvaro, he would be 61 nearing 62 and Flo would be 68. That seemed doable, he supposed. Together, they would find them both. Until then, they would keep living.

—

Boston, 1947

Mickey placed his head in his hands and began to cry, not caring that those around him would look on and stare. He was tired, and hungry, and his heart hurt more than he could put into words. Before he could devolve into full on panic, though, he felt arms around him. Two pairs. He didn't bother opening his eyes or question who was holding him, instead he just accepted the comfort.

"Oh darling, it's okay." Flo spoke softly, combing through his hair with her fingers. The sound of her voice is what made Mickey sit up quickly, red eyes falling upon the gorgeous and refined Flo McWilliams. She was stunning, albeit aged from the last time Mickey had seen her. Her voice was smooth and regal, and her eyes sparkled while she looked at him. He pulled her into his chest, still not registering the other person who was there with them.

Once he pulled back and finally realized that Adwin was there, he hugged him as well. Fuck the fact that they never got along, or the history of their birthplaces. None of that mattered at the moment, because they were there and they were real.

"And the others?" Mickey pulled back, searching Adwin's eyes. There was a foolish hope filling his chest, and his eyes trailed all of the people passing by, somewhat expecting a lovely gray haired Clara to wander up with her fierce eyes and strong fists.

In lieu of a response, Adwin looked Mickey in the eyes before shaking his head. He knew that answer would hurt him, but he also knew there was no hiding the fact. Maverick and Clara were gone, all that was left of them being their impressive history, their estate in New York, and the letters. The thought made Adwin reach into his coat pocket and supply Mickey's letter, handing it to him quickly. 'Mr. Gallego' was written in curly letters on the front.

Mickey's mouth went dry as he turned the letter over in his hand. An hour before, she was real. She was there. He could touch her, though he hadn't. Now it seemed she belonged to the Earth, which in a way was fitting. She had never belonged to him. She had never even belonged to Hubert, despite the ways the thought had tortured him.

"I wouldn't read it here." Flo spoke softly. "Clara had a way with words, and surely whatever she said is going to be hard to read. Her letter to me left me crying for days."

Although Adwin didn't cry at Clara's letter, he agreed. Clara was a poet, and while he was more logical and practical, she still managed to touch him. He sometimes thought that he would really like to have known Clara at 35. He nodded his head at Mickey before standing.

"C'mon, let's walk and talk for a while."

And so they did, with Mickey sandwiched between them. Flo couldn't help but worry that people passing by might mistake her and Adwin for Mickey's parents. Oh, how she hated aging.

They shared the stories that Maverick had told them, the ones of their marriage and friendship. Mickey smiled when he learned that they made most of their money backing airplanes, thinking back to when he told Clara about them. He wondered if she ever got to ride in one, a sadness filling his heart when he realized he would never know. After a bit, Adwin supplied a photo of Maverick and Clara, one that he had found while clearing out Maverick's house. Clara was sitting, her hair curled and pinned back in a fashion much different to what Mickey was used to. Despite the serious look on their faces, he could see the smallest upturn at the corners of her mouth, as if she were containing a smile. What he wouldn't give to see that smile again.

"You should have this, I think." Adwin spoke, smiling softly when Mickey accepted the photo. "Maybe when we find Alvaro, you can pass it on to him."

His eyes finally left Clara and he studied Maverick. He looked tall and powerful, and that made Mickey happy. Only days before, Clara had told him she loved him, and that had broken his heart, because it was not enough. Still, he wanted her to be happy. It seemed she was.

They continued their stories, keeping the details to a minimum when they got to Clara's death. Flo took over, sharing how she had spent years with Maverick before they had found Adwin. They told him how Maverick died shortly after, and assured him that Maverick wished he could have lived long enough to see Mickey again. Mickey believed them, even if he and Maverick were never close. They told him about the money left for him, and the estate, and how they could take him there, if he wanted. He could see the place where Clara lived a life without him.

Flo grew sheepish when they discussed clearing out the estate, revealing she had given most of it to charity and consignment shops. Unfortunately, one of the books she had given away was Clara's diary, and she had never realized. It was published about a year later, becoming a popular read for many. The unfortunate part came from the fact that it revealed she and Maverick were not in love, and despite never outright saying so, led people to believe that she was no more than a cover up for Maverick's homosexual affairs.

"What did she write about in it?" Mickey swallowed. He imagined Clara meeting some mysterious man, one that looked strikingly like Hubert. He imagined her writing about the details of their passionate love affair. His stomach began to turn.

"You and Hubert, mostly." Flo bit down on her lip, hating having to say Hubert's name aloud for Mickey. "Maverick, too, but she didn't write about him the way she wrote about you two, obviously. In one of the passages, she wrote 'he is a soulmate to me in the same way Mercutio is a soulmate to Romeo; I love him, but I do not crave him. I would die for him, but I do not die for him.' Kind of told everyone everything they needed to know." Flo paused, before turning her eyes to him. "I wouldn't read it if I were you, Mickey. I imagine all she ever wanted you to know is in that letter, and she never thought her words in that diary would see the light of day. It's my fault, really."

Mickey mulled over her words before nodding. He was the boy who would live and die for Clara's comfort, so even in her death he could not bring himself to betray her. Even if the curiosity would kill him.

When the story finished, Mickey felt both empty and completely full. He was suddenly much more than he had been on March 4, 1947, but much less than he had been on March 5, 1651. All because he had known love and loss. Now, he had to continue on living as if he had known neither.

—

New York City, 1971

Adwin and Mickey found Alvaro three days after he returned. In the early days, when Adwin had told Mickey that they would go to him in 1971, Mickey had imagined bursting into whatever fight Alvaro was in and pulling him into his arms. Now, at the age of 47, Mickey was much more cautious than he had anticipated he would be. Now, he was a man who had something to lose.

They waited until Alvaro was alone and in broad daylight, walking the streets of the Bronx. The RICO act had been enacted one year earlier, taking away much of the mafia's power and largely diminishing their hold over the city, but Adwin and Mickey still weren't taking any chances.

They called out from behind him, and Alvaro froze in his tracks, his hand raising to his gun on instinct. Their voices were foreign to him, they didn't hit his ears and immediately remind him of his time in Alaque, but upon turning around and seeing their aged faces, he stopped.

"Costa!" Mickey laughed out, his arms closing around Alvaro as they reached for an embrace. They patted each other on the back a few times, then Adwin awkwardly raised a hand to wave at the boy. God, he felt old.

"Damn, Gallego, you did not age well." Alvaro teased, pulling back and eyeing the man up and down. Mickey simply laughed and pushed the boy lightly, feeling once more like a boy himself. "God, I can't believe you guys are real. It was all real, wasn't it?"

"It was all real." Adwin nodded, placing his hands in his pockets. "Do you have a minute to talk?"

When Alvaro nodded, they pushed on. Adwin wanted to get out of the Bronx, but it was a surprisingly nice day for March, so they walked through the city rather than hailing down a cab. When they finally reached a nicer spot of town, they went into a Bodega and each ordered a slice of pizza. Alvaro sat on one side of the table, with Mickey and Adwin across from him.

"Where's Flo?" Alvaro questioned between mouthfuls. He had felt so hungry ever since he returned.

"Oh, she didn't want you to see her just yet. She said once we found you, she'd need time to get her hair done and get herself together." Mickey rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile on his face.

"Flo fucking McWilliams." Alvaro sat back and swallowed before smiling. "She ever get married? 'Cause she was perfect wife material if I ever saw it."

Adwin looked down, and Mickey glanced over at him, his smile widening. He elbowed Adwin a few times, who had grown to be his best friend over the years. Alvaro's eyes widened, and he sat forward.

"No shit." Alvaro barked out a laugh. "You and Flo? Shacked up? You got any kids?"

"Oh, no." Adwin finally raised his eyes, a blush painting his cheeks. Even after all these years, she was still able to reduce him to a puddle. "Flo never wanted to get pregnant, and I much prefer teaching other people's kids."

Alvaro nodded in understanding, a cocky smile still lit up on his face. He let his eyes travel over to Mickey, who had returned his attention to his pizza.

"What about you, Gallego?" Mickey looked up, and there was sadness in his eyes. Alvaro's smile fell away, and he leaned forward. "Please don't tell me you've spent the last 30 years hung up on Clara?"

The sound of her name aloud made Mickey flinch, because even after all this time, it hurt. Still, he shook his head and fished around his back pocket for his wallet. He flipped it open, revealing two pictures to Alvaro.

"Got married, then I got divorced. But, it gave me my daughters, so I don't complain much." Alvaro's eyes widened as he studied the pictures. He had twin daughters, aged 19 and going to college in the city. "Don't get any ideas, though. They've been specifically instructed to stay away from Mobsters with nice smiles."

Alvaro rolled his eyes, flashing the aforementioned smile. God, this was all so fucking weird for Alvaro. He couldn't fathom how Mickey could have two children who were much closer in age to him than Mickey was. It was too surreal.

"So what happened to the others, then?" Alvaro asked casually, biting into his crust. He wanted to ask about Maverick specifically, but his mouth wouldn't form his name. Mickey and Adwin looked at each other, then Adwin supplied two envelopes from the inside pocket of his coat.

"One from Clara, one from Maverick." Adwin slid them across the table. "We don't know much about Bev, because she didn't come from a wealthy family so she's pretty much excluded from the records. We tried to find her grave, but..." Adwin trailed off. Speaking about Bev always made him sad, because it made Flo sad. He did not mind that she loved her, even to this day, because she loved him, too. "We do know about Maverick and Clara, though. They married, not long after Clara returned, and—"

"Wait, what?" Alvaro sputtered, wiping at his mouth. "Clara and... Maverick? They got married?"

"Just so he could save her from her husband." Mickey spoke quietly. "It wasn't romantic, of course."

Alvaro wasn't sure if he should believe Mickey, because they both had vested interest in this. While he was certain that Maverick loved him, he did not exactly know where Maverick's interest lied. Was he only interested in men, or had he just been interested in Alvaro? Mickey seemed to sense the hesitation on Alvaro's face, and he continued.

"Really, I'm serious. The whole world now knows that their marriage was just for appearances, after Clara's diary was published a few years back."

"Why would the whole world care about their marriage?" Alvaro raised his eyebrows, and Mickey and Adwin shared an exasperated laugh.

"Let us just start from the beginning."

And so they did. They explained everything to Alvaro, in the same way everything was explained to them. They even promised to take him to The Donovan, the largest bank in the city. They told him about his share of the money, and how he could get out of the mob now and go wherever he pleased. Finally, they told him about the estate, which hadn't been visited in years and surely was caked in a layer of dust on the inside. Mickey still paid for someone to keep up with maintenance on the place, but it had been awhile since he had been able to bring himself to go back.

By the time they were done, Alvaro's head hurt and his heart ached and he was angry. He was angry that the world had chosen him of all people to be thrust back in time, to meet a man so beautiful and so right, and then to take it away from him. He was used to people letting him down, but he hadn't known that mother nature could do it, too.

"So what about Tim?" Alvaro questioned, although he didn't really care. His mind was filled only with Maverick, but he feared that if they stopped talking, he would break.

"What about Tim? We never found him." Mickey shrugged, and Adwin tensed beside him. Luckily, the others did not notice.

The truth was, he and Flo did find Tim. It was years after he returned, and the boy was a wreck. They each gave him a cut of their fortune, and they still checked in with him from time to time. He knew that would only anger Mickey, so he never told him.

"Do you guys believe in Heaven and Hell?" Alvaro asked after a moment, balling his hands into fist. He did, because he was a Catholic. He had long since made peace with the fact that he would not see the pearly gates, what with all the sins he'd committed over the years. But now, more than ever, he wanted to go to Heaven. He was certain that was where Maverick was waiting.

Mickey and Adwin didn't know how to respond. Mickey wasn't sure what he believed, but he knew that he had once seen Hell on Earth. Adwin was logical more so than he was religious, but he did believe in an afterlife. His time in Alaque had taught him to do so. Seeing proof of a ghost told him that there was some other place her spirit was meant to go.

"Because I do," Alvaro continued when neither spoke. "And now that this was all real, I'm angry. Because I have to do better, I have to be so goddamn good, so I can see Maverick again."

Mickey gulped. He often wondered what he would find when he passed away. Some part of him feared that Clara would not be waiting there for him, that she had found Hubert the moment she crossed over. It would be an entirety alone.

Neither of them responded, and they all sat in silence for some time. Eventually, when Alvaro calmed down, Mickey and Adwin shared small stories about their times with the families they had made along the way, until it started to get dark outside and they had to part ways. Mickey and Alvaro hugged for a long time, then Adwin hugged him, too. They made plans to meet again, and Mickey slid the photo of Clara and Maverick into Alvaro's hands. 

Once they were gone, Alvaro studied the picture, and he cried.

In the years to come, the group decided to turn the Donovan estate into a museum. They didn't do it for profit, for they all had much more money than they needed. Instead, the workers at the museum were paid, and the rest went to charity.

To history, Clara became an inspiration for feminists. Maverick was an LGBTQ+ icon. Flo was the creator of Florence, a high fashion brand with the longevity of Chanel and Louis Vuitton. Tim became a famous actor, heralded for his raw portrayals of despair in drama films. Adwin was known as Flo's husband, but he was hardly a household name. Mickey and Alvaro never reached any level of fame either, but none of them minded much. It did not matter if they were known to millions, but only that they were known to each other.

Their legacies are the only thing that let Ivy know that any of it was real.

---

See this was so long and I apologize for that. Again, next chapter is the letters from Clara and Maverick to Mickey and Alvaro if you're interested!! Okay thank you byeeee :)