There Was No One Else

CONTENT WARNING:

This story contains themes of depression, suicidal ideation, and emotional distress. These moments are central to the characters' emotional journey. Readers should exercise discretion. If you need support, please consider reaching out to a mental health professional or someone you trust.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This is a slow burn, at least for me. It's also the longest story I've ever completed. This story doesn't provide comfort. If you're looking for something light or easy, this probably isn't it.

Thanks for giving it your time. I put a lot into this one.

-- M

====================

"Grandma..." Isaac groaned, having to pull the phone away from his mouth to keep from saying something he shouldn't. Rosemary, his grandmother, had lived a pampered life. From the moment she was born, her parents gave her the world. By the time she turned twenty-one, she had inherited everything. After she met her husband, things didn't change much. Dwight dedicated his life to keep her from having to lift a finger. Isaac wasn't sure his grandmother had worked a single day in her life.

"I know you're worried," he finally said, bringing the phone back to his mouth. He knew what her concerns were. "They rarely let pilots fly these routes alone, but I think I can do it."

"You think?" she asked, her voice shaking with worry.

"I... I know I can," Isaac corrected himself, turning away from the control room as a pair of men entered the long, empty corridor. "Jackie's too sick to fly, and they desperately need these supplies. If these aren't there before the storm rolls through tomorrow afternoon, it puts everyone there in danger."

Silence flooded the line as he waited for her to process what he'd just told her. Worry about his wellbeing always seemed to occupy her mind when talk of flying was involved. He was grateful that she loved him so much. If he was being honest, they were a lot closer than he was to his own parents. She was always the one he went to for advice. If she told him not to go, he wouldn't.

"Alright," she sighed, a heaviness weighing down her words that he'd never heard before.

"Are... are you sure?" Isaac questioned, unsure if he believed her.

"These supplies are critical, right?" she asked, her voice becoming distant as she pulled the microphone away from her lips.

"Yes." Isaac shifted on his feet, glimpsing the two men turning into the mess at the end of the corridor, their muffled conversation disappearing along with them.

"And the storm isn't supposed to be there until tomorrow?"

"The afternoon, yes," he clarified.

"Then..." she choked on the word and had to clear her throat before trying again. "Then I trust that you'll be okay."

Isaac hated to worry her like this. "I don't have- "

"You do," she said, cutting him off. He jumped a little at how abrupt and insistent she was about it. "You said it yourself. They need the supplies and you are the best person for the job... it's just a grandma's job to worry, you know?"

He could hear the sniffles and smiled. She was always so dramatic.

"You're sure?" he asked, stretching his words, knowing he would drop the flight in a heartbeat.

"Yes," she said, trying to pull herself together. "But you have to promise me..."

"You are always my first call," he said, knowing that was going to be her one request. She always wanted to be the first to know when he landed.

"And I'll see you next week, yeah?" She was trying to sound cheerful, but the continued sniffles gave her up.

"Yes," he chuckled. "I will be home for a few weeks this time."

"Isaac..." she said, her voice trailing off like she couldn't bear to end the call.

"I love you too," he sighed, trying to give her reassurance. They'd had a similar call a hundred times before, and she still hadn't gotten used to it.

Over the loudspeaker, control called for his presence.

"I gotta go, Grandma," he said, turning back down the corridor. "Love you. I'll see you next week."

As he pulled the phone away, he thought he heard a voice. Soft. Just a whisper. But there wasn't a lot of time. They tried to avoid having pilots fly at night and needed he was pushing up against the deadline.

++++++++++

The first leg of Isaac's flight took a little more than a couple of hours to complete. As expected, the trek was relatively uneventful. Clear skies above, crystal-blue water below, and mild winds made the small pod of whales heading north the most interesting thing to happen.

He felt free, floating above the ocean. The sound of wind whistling through the small gaps in the captain's side window, combined with the constant drone of the prop engines on either side, made the flight feel almost meditative. It had been a while since he got to experience such a serene trek.

Jackie, his first officer, spent most of their flights talking his ear off. There was always some guy who had worked up the courage to strike up a conversation at the bar, only to be called a creep and unfairly brushed off. On another flight, she'd complain about being unable to find a "good man"--usually after letting some asshole take her home. And he was very aware and tried to point out once, early on, that she was a flying contradiction. That was probably the worst flight he'd experienced, and he learned to just keep his mouth shut.

And then there was her mother. Isaac actually loved hearing about her mother. Isabelle was hilarious and always getting on Jackie's nerves.

As the most competent co-pilot on base, Jackie's oversharing was a small price to pay for someone he trusted at his side.

Shortly after his first check in with control, Isaac spotted something in the distance. Hovering just over the horizon, he could see a terrifying thick mass of black clouds that wasn't there before.

"Hey, control?" Isaac said, the radio crackling as he pressed the mic.

"What's up?" Vince's voice came through the headset, easy as always.

Isaac chuckled. Out of everyone on the ground, he was the only person who didn't talk like they were in the military, and he appreciated the more relaxed approach.

"Do you have an updated forecast on the storm?" he asked, eyes fixated on the clouds crawling through the sky.

The sound of Vince's keyboard filled the silence as Isaac waited. They weren't expecting the storm until tomorrow. How someone could have missed this massive shift in the storm's location was beyond him.

"The projection still shows it arriving tomorrow," Vince said, but there was hesitation in his voice now. "Why?"

"Because I see a mass of nasty clouds heading in my direction," Isaac said, pulling up his monitor. The ancient GPS glitched, showing him bands of the images that made it useless. The clouds were moving faster than Isaac had ever seen. "Vince, I need to find a place to land."

"I'm not seeing anything on radar, forecasts, even satellite images," Vince said. "Are you sure it isn't just a big cloud of birds?"

Isaac was about to respond when streaks of lightning ripped through the clouds.

"I'm sure," he said, voice wavering with panic.

Vince responded when the radio stuttered, only partial words making it through. Isaac couldn't understand anything he was saying.

"Vince," Isaac said, slamming his fist against the radio. "Stupid piece of shit."

The static rose to a shriek, forcing him to yank the headset off, before cutting out completely. He quickly set the plane to cruise and reached behind the seat, pulling a paper map from one pocket. Frantically, he flipped and folded the map, searching for the area he was in. A quick glance at his instruments and everything was going haywire. He pulled out the small notebook which he used periodically tracked his position, a habit picked up from an old mentor. From what he could tell, there weren't any good places to land. He was halfway between base and the outpost. There was an island much closer to him, but it was toward the storm and he knew there wasn't anywhere to set down safely.

The plane jerked to the side, slamming Isaac's head into the window...

++++++++++

Isaac woke to the sound of birds chirping and a high-pitched ringing that sent a sharp pain through his head. Groaning, it felt like he'd been run over by a train, and... he shifted... something was off. The bed was hard... but shifted when he moved, drawing him in.

Light filled his vision, illuminating the inside of his eyelids with an uncomfortable mix of red and yellow hues. He let out a short, shallow cough, as it only amplified the pain in his head.

He tried to inhale, but the short, tight breaths only deepened the pain. A cry escaped before he could stop it. His lung burned, and it felt like his chest was being ripped apart...

++++++++++

There was a cool feeling against Isaac's tongue. Then a burning sensation in his throat. Followed by a coughing fit that only made everything worse.

"Oh, thank God," a wonderfully melodic voice said, an undercurrent of relief coming through.

His head was tilted forward. He tried to move. An overwhelming amount of sharp and dull pain covered his body. Everything hurt, including his eyelids. They were too heavy for him to open.

"Don't move," she said, his head shifting back to lie flat with the rest of his body. If he didn't know any better, he'd thought the world was spinning around him.

She mumbled something, her voice sounding angelic in his current state, before it disappeared into the ether. Time slipped by as he waited. A rush of memories came flooding back, making him wince... which made him wince even more. He was alone. There was his plane. Everything was going well. The first leg made it look like the perfect flight. Then there were clouds. Vince's voice, but he couldn't make out the words. Lightning. The clouds lit up like a strobe-light. Then... nothing. He didn't remember what came next. Did he crash? His body was telling him yes. Who was the woman? The nurse? She ran out of there in a hurry, maybe to grab a doctor... but he didn't feel like he was in a hospital. He stopped and focused on his surroundings. In the distance, he could just barely make out the sound of waves crashing against the shore, followed by the salty stench of ocean water. It was dark... unless he'd gone blind.

"Okay," the voice said, sounding out of breath. "I don't really know what I'm doing... can you speak?"

She didn't know what she was doing? This was definitely not a hospital. At least she spoke English.

Isaac tried to open his mouth, but the pain in his jaw was too much. A turn of the head caused a muscle in his neck to scream out, stopping him after only a few millimeters.

"Okay..." she said, shifting from panicked to freaking out. "Okay... okay... I... ummm... Can you open your eyes at least?"

He didn't want to open his eyes. It felt like he was fading. Concussion. Can't sleep. Seconds passed as he built up the courage and willpower to try. If his eyes remained closed, he would fall asleep. One... Two... his lungs felt like they were working overtime... Three.

"Oh!" the woman screeched in excitement, her pitch bringing even more pain to Isaac's head. "You did it!"

All he saw were stars... well, he hoped they were stars. They were fuzzy white spots.

"You're going to be okay..." she sighed with relief, her voice trailing off. "At least I hope... I don't... I'm not a doctor... you're... you had me worried."

Along the far edge of Isaac's vision, he spotted a flicker of light bouncing off something he couldn't figure out. He felt a cooling sensation over his brow, presumably a water soaked cloth, before a woman's face came into view. His short breathing hitched, and he wondered if he had died. There was a golden halo circling her face like an angel. It was difficult to make out her facial features, aside from her generally slim face.

"If... ummm... do you think... would... would you mind if I tried sitting you up?" she asked, uncertainty seeping through her shaking voice. "Oh... right... ummm... one blink for yes and two for no..." she then mumbled to herself, just barely loud enough for Isaac to overhear. "Is that right? Yeah, I think that's right."

He let out a grunt, moving his eyelids slower than those old, creepy animatronics. Getting them reopened was a lot harder than closing. It felt like someone had lathered his face with glue with how much he had to fight. He was going to try blinking again, letting her know it would be too much for her to move him, but he didn't think he would get them back open if he did.

"Okay," she said, letting out a quick breath, trying to psyche herself up.

Several excruciating minutes pass as she dragged Isaac along the ground. They were on a beach. The sand rubbing against his bare legs gave that away. He screamed out in pain, muffled by his gritted teeth and inability to pry his jaw open. The woman, meanwhile, apologized profusely with every step, matching his cries.

"There," she huffed, leaning him against a wood board that was propped against something Isaac couldn't see.

He watched as she moved around and collapsed to the ground by his feet.

This was his first look at the woman. Now that the blurriness had abated, he got a proper look at her. She was definitely younger than him. He suspected she was in her mid-twenties, but guessing someone's age wasn't really in his wheelhouse. For the longest time, he thought Jackie had crested thirty. Turned out, two years after they started working together, that she was twenty-two. He felt like such an idiot, thinking she was older than he was. Thankfully, he never voiced that and didn't have to deal with the backlash of such an assumption.

Able to see, he could make out some of the woman's features. She had a small button nose that bordered on being "normal" sized, with a sharp jawline framing her face. His gaze was promptly drawn from her cute face when the heaving of her chest caught his attention. Draped in an extremely loose button-up shirt, the holes and tears exposed a generous amount of skin beneath. She was trim, but her figure left no doubt. The curve of her chest was especially helpful, as it defied the fabric and any uncertainty. Isaac figured she was a little more than a handful. His interest, while it didn't go away, faded into the background as he got a better look at her clothing. The shirt was well faded, more yellow than white at this point. Hugging her hips were a pair of uncomfortably short jean-shorts that were frayed along the bottom. More than Isaac thought was intentional. Her hair was long and cut uneven. It frayed out from all angles. She'd been here a while... wherever here was.

"I guess," she said, letting out a heavy sigh as she twisted in the sand to sit up and face him. "I should probably introduce myself. My name's..."

Her voice trailed off like she was trying to remember what her name was.

"My name's Rose," she finally said, bringing a warm smile to her face. Isaac could see the exhaustion around her eyes, and it wasn't just from dragging him through the sand.

Rose sat there, staring at Isaac like she expected him to respond.

"Oh, right," she chuckled to herself before returning to a more serious tone. "You can't speak right now. That... that's okay. You can introduce yourself later. For now, I'll just call you... Bobby... yeah, that feels right."

"I don't know how you ended up here," she said, crossing her legs, then fidgeting with the sand. "But you were in pretty terrible shape, much worse than you are now. That was a couple days ago..."

A couple days? Isaac's eyes went wide at the new information. Two days, unconscious, without a hospital? He was lucky to be alive.

"I was taking my morning stroll down the beach... checking to see if anything new had washed ashore... oh," she ended excitedly. Leaning to the side, her blouse, with a few buttons missing near the top, pulled gently to the side. Not enough to show him anything, but that didn't stop his mind from wandering. By the time she returned to her sitting position, he managed to suppress the thoughts. This was not the time for that.

"Here, Bobby," she said, holding out several small shells for him to see. There was a look of confusion on her face as she seemed worried about what he thought, and it only worsened when he couldn't respond. "Anyway, I found you at the far end of the beach. You were the new thing that washed up. It took me all day to drag you from way over there."

Rose motioned behind her, like he could see that far in the dark.

"You're really heavy..." she said, freezing at the words. "I... I... I mean... you're not fat... just ummm, tall... so there's a lot of you... I mean... I'm sorry."

Isaac wasn't sure how he felt about Rose. She was clearly going through something with the speed at which she spoke and the rapid falls into apology.

"Let's see..." she said, rocking back while holding onto her legs, pulling them out of the sand. "You've been unconscious the whole time... well, except for yesterday. You scared the crap out of me... not that it's your fault... I just didn't expect you to scream like that... ummm, I tried to figure out where you washed ashore from, hoping to see a boat or something, but I couldn't see anything. I would've gone over the rocks, but I didn't want to leave you alone..."

Her voice trailed off, giving Isaac a bad feeling about her... not about her as a person, but about how long she had been stranded here. How long did it take for someone to become that desperate for human connection? He wasn't even speaking, and she only really noticed when she wanted an answer from him.

"Do you want some water?" she asked, getting up. Turning around, Isaac found his gaze drawn to another one of her assets. It wasn't a lot. He thought it was better described as a slim bubble butt. He hated himself for the thought as she rummaged through a metal box. She was trying to help him.

"Here," she said, coming over to his side. He could see her arms and hands shaking as she lifted a small plastic container to his lips. Like before, the water burned as it slithered down his throat. Prepared, he didn't cough at the sensation, only wince at the pain.

There was a long pause after Rose finished the water and returned the container to the box. Isaac felt like she wanted to tell him something or ask a question with the way she shifted in her seat.

Eventually, she pulled her knees to her chest and whispered. "It might be a weird thing to say, but I'm glad you showed up... I hate myself for feeling like that... I shouldn't be glad that you had an accident and are now stranded on some stupid island... but... but it's..." she started to cry, leaving Isaac unable to do anything to comfort her. "I've been alone for so long..."

They sat. Isaac did his best to stay awake while Rose cried, but exhaustion pulled his eyes closed and wrapped him in a blanket of darkness.

++++++++++

The sun hung high overhead when Isaac awoke, its brightness forcing him to squint as he tried to orient himself. Encircling the sand was a ring of wooden planks, reminiscent of Stonehenge, but with smaller gaps between the pieces. Some boards leaned precariously, doing their best to remain upright. On the far side, a tarp had been stretched over a tree branch, offering a modest patch of shade from the sun and the rain that would surely come. To his left was a small fire pit, its base lined with charred remnants of wood.

Isaac turned his head slowly, the pain still present but more bearable than before. Moving his attention away from the fire pit, to where Rose sat the night before, he found a note written in the sand.

"Back soon," was all it said.

Rose had gone, leaving him to figure out what was going on and what to do. The idea of trying to stand up was laughable in his state, especially on his own. Maybe he could... Isaac paused. It just clicked in his head that he wasn't wearing any pants. Up and down his legs were bruises, scrapes, and a crudely bandaged wound. Thankfully, his light-blue boxers were still intact, although his shirt had been mangled and become tassels hanging from his shoulders more than actual clothing. His pants, however, were nowhere in sight and he had on one sock. Why did the sock mattered? He didn't know.

Rose. Had she removed them? The thought worried him. Why would she have removed his pants? The questions didn't linger long as another issue cropped up. There was a pressure growing inside his bladder. He needed to... Two days. That's what she said, right? The odds of him not needing to pee over the course of two days were virtually nonexistent. Yet, his boxers were clean... relatively speaking. No evidence that he'd soiled himself. His cheeks went flush. She definitely removed them. There was no way for her to know if he had to pee, so her only options would've been to remove them after the fact to wash them. The idea sent his heart racing with embarrassment.

Isaac spent far too long, he didn't know exactly how long without being able to check his phone, trying to drag himself out of camp. But each time he tried to push himself in the sand, a pain would shoot through his arms and the sand would give out. He was six humiliating feet from where Rose left him when he couldn't hold it any longer. A warm stream of liquid soaked into his boxers before dribbling out the side and down his left leg. A cocktail of relief and dread washed over him, knowing she would return at some point.

++++++++++

"I- I'm so sorry, Rose," he said, the moment she appeared inside the circle. He'd been laying in the sand for an eternity, feeling helpless. Cleaning up after himself, even if he had the energy to bring his arms up again after all the time trying to move himself, wasn't even an option.

She looked at him with a quizzical look until she spotted the wet spot.

"Oh," she said, setting a handful of mangos down. She had this look in her eye. Unfazed by his predicament, but the look you'd give a puppy who couldn't make it to the door.

"When..." he started, not wanting to ask but needing confirmation. "When I was... ummm, out. Did you?.."

"Yes," she said, the word coming out short and hurried. Turning her attention around, she moved to open the small metal box from the night prior. As she rummaged through, he was too humiliated to even admire her butt.

"I didn't think it was a good idea to leave you soaked in your own... ummm, pee. So, I, uhhh, cleaned you up whenever it happened... I hope that was okay."

"It's..." He wrestled with the kind gesture and way she was handling the situation, including his embarrassment. "It's okay. I understand you did what needed to be done. I'm just sorry you had to do it... and I'm really sorry now."

"I didn't mind," she said a little too quickly, then froze. "I- I... I mean, it needed to be done."

Before Isaac could say anything else, she stood up and left camp without another word.

He slumped back in the sand, guessing at what she was doing. In a few minutes, she'd return with something to clean the urine off him. They would be required to work together to remove his boxers, exposing himself to her. She would then go off and clean his boxers while he continued to lie there until she returned and they worked to get him redressed. He wasn't strong enough to lift any significant portion of himself, the pain from the whole body bruise and effort he'd already spent was too much.

As he suspected, Rose returned after a while, holding a small container of water and a piece of cloth that looked like it came from a shirt. She quietly set the container in the sand and the cloth into the water. Their cheeks were flush as she gripped his boxers and slowly worked them down his legs. Isaac was too much in his own head to notice the small glances she made toward his exposed privates. He had to throw his head back in order to save what little dignity he might have left. When the garment was removed, she waited to see if he needed help washing.

"Could you..." He closed his eyes, telling himself to just say it. "Could you hand me the cloth and pour a little of the water over me?"

Rose didn't speak. With one hand, she pushed the container close enough for Isaac to grab the cloth, then picked it up and poured half of it over his crotch. The water was freezing, and he thanked her. With a nod, she hurried out of the circle with his boxers in hand.

After cleaning himself the best he could manage, Isaac waited for Rose's return. The process of getting him dressed again was as if not more awkward than undressing. When they finished, she broke open the mango and handed him a few pieces, which he ate slowly.

They spoke little the rest of the day, only enough for him to understand how food and water worked around the camp. Rose spent a majority of her time scavenging along the beach, picking up anything she found useful and several new shells to add to her collection. He didn't ask what they were for, figuring she'd tell him if she wanted to. Most of his day was spent resting, trying to recover his strength. They silently came up with a routine, where she would periodically check on him. With her being so close now, she could drag him out of camp and... the logistics of his bathrooms outside the camp aren't really relevant. Suffice to say, he could use the bathroom with a smidge more dignity than before.

++++++++++

In the hour leading up to sundown, Isaac was left to replay the events of the crash. The details were becoming more clear as the fog he'd been struggling with surrounding the memories dissipated, but everything after the lightning was just gone. He didn't remember the plane spiraling out of control, whether he bailed out of the plane before it hit the water, or how close the island might've been. The beach they were on was tucked into a small cove on the eastern side of the island, but it didn't match any of the landmasses that were present on his maps... and he didn't recall seeing them on radar or during any of the runs he and Jackie took before.

When the horizon swallowed the day, Rose returned. The first thing he saw was a giant spool of seaweed peeking through the pieces of wood. He could hear her huffing as she brought it over to rest beside him. His heart jumped in his chest when she dropped it into the sand. The shirt, tattered and worn, had gone transparent. He averted his gaze, only catching a glimpse, but the sight of her full chest topped with bright pink nipples had burned into his brain.

"What's wrong?" she asked, unaware of the show she was putting on.

"Your... ummm, shirt," he said, holding his hand to block her from sight.

She squeaked, a word not really forming on her lips, before he heard the sand kicking up behind her. With caution, he slowly dropped his hand to find she'd sprinted from the camp.

Not long after, she returned with a completely different, but just as worn, shirt covering her torso and an embarrassed smile on her face.

"Sorry," she said, moving to where she dropped the seaweed. "I ummm... There aren't that many people here... I guess I got a little complacent."

"Really?" he asked, looking around. "I thought this place was bumpin'."

"Bumpin'?" she asked, a smile mixed with confusion on her face.

"Too old of a reference?" he asked, wondering how much younger than he she really was. "How old are you?"

"I turned twenty..." she closed one eye and looked up at the sky. "Two months ago."

She was definitely younger than he thought.

"Do you mind if I ask how long you've been here?" He watched as she pulled the leaves from the stalk and set them to the side.

"Six months next week," she sighed, unable to look at Isaac.

"Si... six months..." his voice trailed off, not believing what he just heard. She'd been on this island for six months and probably lost hope of a rescue... he wasn't sure how she managed. Just sitting here while she was off doing stuff was weighing on him... he couldn't imagine. "How... I'm sorry, but six months... alone?"

"Not in the beginning," she said, leaning back to sit in the sand as she worked. "There were two other people with me... members of the crew."

"Do you mind if I ask..." He wouldn't want to talk about, their absences were enough to presume, but he wanted to give her the space. She'd been alone with no one to talk to about it.

"Not... not today," she stopped working and stared at the seaweed.

"Can I know how long?"

She let out a heavy sigh. "Three... no, four months."

Four months. By yourself. No one to talk to. No one to share the burden of survival. How long would she have been here if he hadn't come? Except... his arrival changed nothing. Sure, she wasn't alone, but he couldn't get her off the island anymore than she could.

"Bobby?" she asked, the name catching him off guard. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ummm," he half-chuckled when he realized he never told her his name. "I think I forgot to introduce myself."

She lifted her head to look at him, the weight of her time on the island drooping her eyes.

"My name's Isaac," he said, passing her a warm smile. It was difficult to feel happy after hearing all that, but she needed it.

There wasn't a smile in return. Instead, her head dropped back down to the sand. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ummm," he started, unsure why she would feel the need to get permission. "Yeah, of course."

"Do you think anyone's looking for you?" The question dropped in his chest, bringing up the fears he had about her not being found for so long.

"I hope so," he said, knowing there were people looking for him but not sure what she was after.

"I'm getting tired," she said, the way she said it making Isaac wonder if she was talking about sleep. "Do you need to use the bathroom before I go to sleep?"

"I think I'm okay," he said, letting his head rest against the plank. There was something he didn't know how to say, but decided now might be a good time. "Thank you for saving me."

"I didn't save you," she mumbled, curling up in the sand and facing away from him. Her voice lowered so much that he didn't understand what she said after.

++++++++++

More than a week passed, though Isaac was already struggling to keep track of days, and his strength had slowly returned. His steps were still slow and uneven, but he could walk short distances without her help before needing to rest. He was grateful for the newfound freedom of using the bathroom without her help. They spoke more now, though it was relegated to soft acknowledgements, simple gestures, and practical questions about surviving on the island. There were bits and pieces about their old lives, but neither was really interested in bringing up those memories. She didn't really smile much and her pace to get things done slowed as the days wore on. But everything changed when he woke to a handwritten note anchored to her box with a rock, something she made clear needed to be used sparingly since she had a limited supply.

"Isaac, I'm sorry," he read to himself. "I can't do this anymore. There's no escape from this island. I tried to believe, I wanted to believe that you might've been on my way out... but it was too good to be true. I can see now that no one is coming for you. I should've left you in the sand that day and gone through with it. I'm sorry that I saved your life. You didn't deserve this."

Panic shot through Isaac's core, forcing him to read the note four times over before it sunk in. Each time, the anxiety over her words grew. Whipping his head around, he saw nothing out of place. Anything that would tell him where she went. He hobbled out of camp, tripping over the sand until he was in the open. Eyes darting up and down the beach, there was no sign of Rose. There were footprints in the sand, but there were always footprints in the sand. Then it hit him. He glanced back down at the note.

"I should've left you in the sand that day and gone through with it..." His head spun as he tried to understand what she meant. That day... she found him at the far end of the beach... gone... she was headed for the cliffs.

He didn't wait, he just moved. The pain in his legs flared with every sunken step, but fear pushed harder than any pain he could suffer. Sand clawed at his feet, sending him face first into the ground more than once, but he forced himself up each time. It didn't matter how much it hurt to breathe, hurt to run, or hurt to chase after her, he needed to catch her. All he did, crawling his way up the steep incline, was pray that he wasn't too late.

++++++++++

Isaac reached the top of the cliff and spotted a familiar silhouette standing near the edge. Instincts told him to call out, to beg her not to do it... but he froze. What if it scared her? He couldn't tell how close to the edge she'd gotten.

Minutes went by and she didn't move, only stared down in front of her. He could just make out her sobs through the heavy winds whipping across the rock.

Took a step forward, grinding his teeth through the pain, and waited. She didn't notice. Another step. No acknowledgement of his presence. Step by step, Isaac moved closer. When he was close enough to grab her, he stopped. If he thought she would go, he could try to grab her.

Seeing that she was a couple feet from the edge, he spoke up.

"You can't do this!" he yelled, trying to keep the growing winds from drowning out his voice.

His sudden appearance startled Rose, but her feet never moved.

"I don't have a choice!" she called back, shifting on her feet.

"Yes! You do!" he said, ready to grab her.

"I can't do this anymore! You don't know what it's like to be alone for so long!"

"You're not alone!" he said, realizing where she was. The day she found him was her breaking point. It didn't matter that he was here. She still felt alone.

"You don't understand!" she yelled, waving him off. "They left me... you will too... eventually!"

"You don't believe that!" he said, leaning forward slightly. "You wouldn't still be here if you did!"

Before Rose could respond, Isaac wrapped his arms around her and threw his bodyweight back. They landed hard against the rock; him taking the brunt as she came down on top of him. Rose struggled to get free, but he wouldn't... couldn't let her go.

"I'm here, Rose," he said, his voice strained. "You aren't alone."

"I can't!" she cried out, pain leaving her mouth more than words.

"You want to go?" he asked, willing himself to stand. He shifted and push to bring them to their feet. It helped that Rose tried pushing against the ground to slip out of his arms. "Let's go."

"What?" she asked, still struggling to get out of his embrace.

"You want to go. I'm going with you." He moved them a single step toward the ledge.

"No... you can't," she said, a terrified look appearing. "You don't understand."

"You don't understand!" he snapped, yelling in her face, jarring her into looking at him. "You're not alone, Rose."

"I..." she started as she stopped fighting, only pushing enough to keep him from letting go. "I have too."

"I'm here, Rose," he said, calming down. "I'm not going anywhere."

The words buckled her legs, sending them both back to the ground. Isaac pulled, ensuring they fell away from the edge. Again, he took the brunt of the fall as she landed on top of him. He didn't let her go, but he couldn't fight her anymore. Everything hurt.

"Promise," she said, her torso shaking as she muffled her cries. "Promise you won't leave me."

"I won't leave you," he said, giving her the lightest of squeezes. "I promise I will never leave you."

She broke down, turning her head into his chest, and cried.

It took them several hours to find their way back down the mountain. Isaac could barely move, causing them to stumble repeatedly. Every time Rose gave him a look of worry, he repeated his promise.

++++++++++

Two weeks went by with Isaac spending the majority trying to not wake up in pain, while Rose lay curled up beside him. She wasn't fully out of it, needing constant reminders of his promise, but time spent together with words unspoken helped bring her into a more centered place. They had to rely on each other to gather food and water, not enough to be satisfied, but enough to survive.

A storm pounded the beach in the last few days, leaving them huddled beneath the tarp, using each other to keep warm.

After over a month on the island, Isaac had given up any hope of being rescued. He knew the search patterns they would take and how long the company would throw resources into finding him. While his family might not have stopped, it was over. Guilt was the hardest part of this acceptance. If he'd just listen to his grandmother's worry, he wouldn't be in this situation. Then again, if he did, Rose... he didn't want to think about that. The only thing that mattered was that they were here.

++++++++++

"You never learned to ride a bike?" Isaac asked in complete disbelief. They had opened up about their home lives, mostly keeping it to small stories from their childhood.

"No," she said, picking a small shell out of the sand. "It wasn't the Proper thing to do."

"Proper?" he mocked, not expecting anyone these days to refer to something as proper, let alone that riding a bike wasn't considered proper.

"Yes, proper," she said, a smile on her face... Isaac's heart warmed. It was the first smile she'd had since... since he arrived.

"Don't tell me you're one of those hippies who thinks everything should be chill and 'like' far out man," she asked, watching as he went after another sand crab, only to come up empty.

"Not at all," he said, a little thrown by the reference to 'those hippies.'

"Tell me something embarrassing about you," she said, bending forward. Isaac couldn't help himself, but looked away before she stood straight.

"There's nothing embarrassing about me," he said with a huge grin. "I'm perfect."

"Nobody's perfect," Rose said, the smile falling from her face as she looked to the ground.

Isaac didn't know what nerve he hit, but gave her what she wanted. "My first kiss was... it was mortifying."

Rose picked up her gaze, the smile not there but a look of curiosity instead.

"It was Tiffany Waldorf," he said, pausing until she glanced at him. "I know, I know... we were in the tenth grade, if you can believe it, and... I sneezed when I pulled away from the kiss and she ended up with a broken nose and a bruise below her right eye. That destroyed my dating life for the rest of high school and I didn't kiss anyone else until college."

"What about you?" he asked, motioning to her.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Your first kiss," he chuckled. "What was it like?"

"I... ummm..." she said, brushing a strand of hair back while turning to continue down the beach. "I never... ummm. I've..."

"You've never kissed anyone," he said, keeping his tone soft and nonjudgmental. Internally, he couldn't believe she had kissed no one. She was twenty years old.

"No," she shook her head, unable to look at him.

"Were there no boys that-"

She cut him off. "Mother is very big on what is proper for a young lady... and a kiss... I don't remember what she said."

"Do you feel that way?" he asked, curious.

"I wanted to... kiss a boy, that is..."

"What's his name?" Isaac asked, not wanting the answer, but knowing that opening up was a good thing for them.

"Boris, something," she breathed.

"Boris?" he couldn't hold back his laugh, but stifled it enough. "And I thought Tiffany Waldorf was bad."

"Hey," she said, swiping at him. "I didn't make fun of you... Besides, I found someone I like more..."

"Oh?" he asked, her heavy hint flying right over his head. "Who?"

Rose went quiet. For a moment, Isaac thought she hadn't heard him.

Then, with her head still turned away, she mumbled, "He's... kind. Makes me feel safe."

She picked at a shell in the sand, brushing grains off its surface, like she needed something to do with her hands.

"And he's been unexpectedly nice to me." She said, the words struggling to come out. "Even when I don't deserve it."

Isaac tilted his head, watching her more closely now.

"He's just..." she trailed off, then shook her head. "Never mind. It's stupid."

Isaac gave her a soft smile, even though she wasn't looking at him.

"It's not stupid," he said after a pause. "Not even close."

"It is," she said, unable to hide her embarrassment as her cheeks went flush.

"You can tell me," he said, taking a step toward her and placing a hand on her shoulder. When she winced, he pulled back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"No," she said. "It's fine. I just worry... about the way he sees me."

"Why's that?" he asked, still not getting it.

"He's seen me at my worst and I'm afraid... I'm afraid it might've scared him."

"I'm sure you haven't," Isaac said, wanting to give her a hug. "You just have to tell him... if we ever get out of here, I mean."

"I'm trying," she said, sniffling.

"What?" Isaac's smile faltered, realization hitting him like a pound of bricks to the head. She wasn't talking about some guy back home... she was talking about him. "Oh... You mean me."

"Forget it," she said, moving away from him.

Isaac's hand reached out, catching her wrist, allowing him to pull her back. She stumbled through the sand, landing in his arms.

"I'm such an idiot," he said with a smile. He waited for her response, making sure she wanted this, too. When she smiled back, he went in slowly for the kiss.

Their lips met with a softness that answered every unspoken question about their feelings. It wasn't rushed; it was quiet and patient. He felt a deep, guttural connection forming the more time passed. She was more than the person who saved him. More than the woman who nursed him back to health. More than someone lost, standing by a cliff's edge. She was everything.

Isaac pulled back, a small string of saliva holding their kiss for a moment longer before breaking. They didn't speak.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Isaac felt Rose's fingers brush lightly against him, hesitant at first, but then slipping inside his. They stood there, watching the last light bleed gold across the waves.

++++++++++

They worked side by side, clearing debris and dragging the heavier planks back into place. The air was thick with heat, the kind that made everything stick--sand to skin, hair to forehead, clothes to every wrong part of the body. Neither of them complained.

Occasionally, Rose would lean in to see what Isaac was doing, and her shoulder would press into his. He didn't move. Once, when she reached up to tie off a corner of the tarp, the hem of her shirt rode high enough to catch his attention. She noticed. Didn't fix it.

He made a joke about her knots not holding. She threw a handful of sand at him, missing by a mile. He laughed, maybe more than the joke deserved. She smiled, not looking at him when she did.

They didn't talk much. But there were glances. A couple brushes of fingers, neither one pulling away fast enough. She rested her hand on his back once, steadying herself as she crouched, and he felt it linger just long enough to know it wasn't for balance.

By midafternoon, the wind shifted. Nothing dramatic--just enough to make one edge of the tarp snap. The remaining three points left half the space covered still. They kept working, ignoring it, like the clouds wouldn't dare interrupt whatever this was becoming.

But they did.

The first drop landed with a splat against the back of Isaac's hand. The second hit his forearm.

They looked at each other.

Then the sky gave in all at once.

"Ahhh," Rose screeched, hands going up like they'd protect her from the downpour that just opened up on them.

The rain came fast, turning the sand beneath their feet soft. Rose squealed again, ducking under the tarp as droplets transformed into thick sheets of water. Isaac was only a second behind her, his clothes already clinging to his skin. They huddled close in the narrow patch of dryness, breathless from the sudden sprint. Laughter followed as they looked each other over.

Her hair, soaked, and curling at the ends, stuck to her cheeks. She moved to brush it away, but froze when she noticed how close he was... how close they were becoming.

Isaac really looked at her. Not the way he had before, not with subtle glances when she wasn't watching. This time, his eyes didn't shift away. They held her gaze, as if searching for every unspoken thought behind her expression.

The sound of rain hitting the tarp above them filled the silence. The air between them changed--charged with a wanting neither could pretend wasn't there anymore. Rose's eyes softened. She wasn't smiling, but her lips parted like she couldn't breathe otherwise. Her chest rose with a shaky breath, the thin white material of her shirt turning translucent as the wind shifted, sending water skimming into their small refuge.

Isaac didn't care. He lifted his hand, slowly, giving her the chance to pull away. She didn't.

He brushed his fingertips along her jaw, tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear. She leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed for just a second. He planted a kiss against her jawline, soft, the contact warm even through the chill. Another, just below that. No words passed between them. They didn't need to.

Slow. Deliberate. Careful.

He moved lower, to the curve of her shoulder, kissing against skin warmed only by his breath and the blood rushing just beneath. Her eyes were still closed, her face tilted toward the rain, her lips parted. She didn't say a word as he slid the damp fabric from her shoulders. She let it fall.

The soaked shirt slipped down her arms and dropped around her ankles with a hushed weight. Isaac paused--not just to take her in, but to make sure. She gave no sign of hesitation.

His lips returned, tracing a path down the slope of her breast. Her breath caught when he paused at her nipple, lips just brushing against the rigid skin, his breath hot despite the rain. She squirmed as he opened his mouth, sucking gently on her.

Down again, shifting into the valley between, each new kiss forging a path of desire. When he reached her bellybutton, she recoiled. Not out of fear. Nor anger. Just a helpless ticklish twitch.

On his knees, he stared up. Peeking out from behind her beautiful mounds there was a smile, larger than she'd ever held. With light fingers, he carefully pulled the button on her shorts free and guided them down. When she stepped out of them, glancing at him for the first time since he started, their eyes met. He blinked as the rain tried to keep him from seeing her, but he refused.

Leaning forward, he started just above the hair between her legs. Watching her face, he continued his trek south, gently pressing down her delicate curls. Rose struggled to keep still as he moved closer to her slit. When his lips landed in her sweet spot, he reached up, parting her hair. He ran his tongue along her lips, tasting her.

"Isaac..." she breathed, her voice laced with desperation.

He glanced up to see her struggling to keep upright. Standing up, he took hold of the tarp and yanked as hard as he could. The rope holding up the other side snapped, allowing him to lay it down on the cold, wet sand. He turned to Rose; her face beaming in the unrelenting rain. Taking her hand, he guided her onto the tarp. With the help of his hands, she parted her legs, allowing him to slide up to her.

Around the outer edge of her entrance, he ran his tongue over her aching pussy. Heat provided a beautiful contrast to the cool summer rain.

Her legs shifted when he guided his tongue along her lips, this time slipping between the folds ever so slightly. Each pass, he sunk his tongue a little deeper, exploring her a little more. The sound of rain against the tarp made her quiet moans and pleas to stop impossible to hear. As his tongue brushed against her clit, he felt her body go tense. Her knees moved up as she dug her heels into the tarp. She was there. He continued to explore her with his tongue, giving her moments to breathe before returning to her clit. Time fell away as he enjoyed her, ending when he felt her hand brush against his head.

Sitting up, the rain quickly washing away the evidence of what he'd done, he knelt between her legs. Rose's chest heaved, rising and falling like she was breathing air for the first time. There was a smile absent from her face as she moved to sit up. A deep and hungry kiss passed between them when she sat up to meet him.

"I..." she said between bated breaths. "I want to... feel you... inside me."

A smile crossed his face, followed by his lips coming back to meet hers. He pushed forward. Slow. Allowing her to lie carefully on her back. She was eager. Her hands were tugging at his boxers before he could push himself back up.

Their kiss broke as her hands slid down, wrapping gently around him. He pushed himself up, making space to move gently, to get it right. She wasn't practiced, but that didn't matter. She mattered.

Replacing her hands, he guided the tip of his cock to her opening and waited. He brought his breathing down to a steady rhythm as he moved gradually inside her. She was tight and the way her muscles contracted around his cock and his long period without self release was going to make this part of their session very short.

Her face contorted the more he pushed inside. Love. The word was unexpected, but it's what popped into his head the moment she let out a small gasp. He no longer cared that they were stuck on this island. He just wanted to be with her. When his pelvis met hers, she propped herself up on her elbows and stared at their connection. He didn't move, fearing that he would not last more than a handful of careful pumps and enjoying the glint in her eye.

"I love you," she said, grabbing his arms and shifting to sit in his lap. Isaac had to swing his legs so they wouldn't get caught beneath him.

"I love you too," he said, kissing her deeply.

She adjusted herself in his lap, moving him around inside her.

"I'm not gonna last long," he grunted, doing his best not to explode.

"So..." she said, trying on a playful smirk as she shifted in his lap. "If I keep doing this... you fill me up?"

"Mmmm," he moaned, the pleasure tightening low and fast. "I'm gonna cum."

Rose stared into his eyes while her hips continued to grind his cock against her walls. True to his word, Isaac felt his body tense. The pressure valve he'd been holding closed released. Cum flew down his shaft, landing deep inside her. She held him close, experience every spasm until he was empty.

The rain still poured, drumming softly against the tarp. Water pooled around them, creating a shallow pool for them to share.

Rose lay tucked under Isaac's arm, resting her arm and head over his chest. She breathed slowly, almost sleepily. He traced a finger in idle patterns against her back, not wanting this moment to end.

Neither of them spoke first. There was no need. The smile on their faces said everything.

++++++++++

As the rain let up, shifting from torrential to a light sprinkle, Rose pushed herself to sit. She set a hand on his chest when he tried to sit up with her, keeping him laying on the tarp.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely carrying through the tapping of rain. "That was... that was more than I thought sex could be... you made me feel wanted. Like I mattered."

"Rose..." he said, sitting up. "You will always matter to me. I meant what I said. I love you."

She smiled, giving him a small peck on the lips, then did something that confused Isaac. Holding her hands out, she brought her left hand up like it was holding something precious. Her right hand reached over and pulled the invisible item's lid open before reaching to the side of her head. A strange, familiar ache settled over Isaac as he watched her take something invisible from her head and place it gently in the air between them.

"What was that?" he chuckled, tilting his head with curiosity and unease.

"Oh, I put that in my memory box," she said, her face turning bright pink. "I know, it's stupid."

Isaac froze. When she spoke the words, memories flashed through his mind. Memory box... when you have a memory you never want to forget, just pluck it out and put it in your memory box... his grandmother used to tell him that. It had been ages since he'd seen her do it, but she did the gestures and everything too... just like Rose.

Rose leaned forward and kissed his cheek. The warmth from her lips lingered only a second before the rain washed it away.

"I need to pee," she said, hopping to her feet and rushing out of camp.

Isaac stared down at the mess of clothes they'd left around the camp, his head spinning. The... the woman he just... no... she couldn't be... if she was, that would mean... they... He twisted the questions and thoughts screaming through his head, trying to make sense of everything. She couldn't be... could she? But that would mean either he went back in time or she went forward and that was impossible... right? This was just a coincidence.

"Isaac?" Rose's voice broke his panicked and wandering thoughts. "Is everything okay?"

He looked up, seeing a beautiful young woman standing before him. She wore a concerned look on her face and nothing else. His eyes darted to the sand after glimpsing her perky breasts. The thought wouldn't go away. They hadn't talked about their time away from the island, not much anyway.

"What... what year is it?" he asked, closing his eyes, praying it was just a coincidence.

"1961... no 62... I think," she said, taking a seat on the tarp beside him. "Why?"

"I..." There was only one other question to ask, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "What's your name? Your full name, I mean."

She placed a hand against his shoulder as she spoke, causing him to wince. "Rosemary Mallory Everson, why?"

Shit.

"No, no, no, no, no," he repeated, pushing himself off the tarp. She tried to follow, but slipped as he disappeared between the wooden border and down the beach.

++++++++++

Heart pounding and throat tight, Isaac didn't know where he was going. He just needed to go... away.

Away from the thoughts.

Away from the impossible.

Away from her.

Away from Rosemary Mallory Everson.

Images slammed his mind as the sand shifted, trying to bring him to the ground. Christmas morning. Silver hair framing her face. A giant smile as he opened the door in excitement. Her laugh when he spilled juice on the carpet after telling her he wouldn't. The heavenly scent of cinnamon coming from her shirt after nearly a day of nonstop baking.

The memory snapped from his mind when his cheek slammed hard into the sand.

Angry. Frustrated. Distraught. They each fed into his limbs as he dug. Where? He didn't know. Anywhere but here.

His stomach turned.

They'd kissed. Touched. He'd pushed himself inside her, taking her virginity... defiling her... dumping his seed into her.

He pushed the thoughts aside, trying to convince himself that it wasn't real, that she wasn't his grandma. She'd never mentioned being stranded on an island. As far as he was aware, she'd never been in a crash.

"Does it matter?" he asked himself, sitting in the sand to look out at the water.

Rose might be his grandma. He still wasn't sure how to wrap his head around it. But it didn't seem like she was HIS grandma.

The branch theory. He saw it in movies all the time. This is a version of her, not HIS grandma. One who never had his dad.

His thoughts ricocheted between Rose and the truth. If she'd never done the memory box, he might not have figured it out. That didn't change how he felt about her. She wasn't the grandmother figure he grew up with. That version of her was with the rest of his family, disconnected from this reality. He was in love with Rose. The young, vibrant woman who saved him. She nursed him back to health when she didn't have to. She was strong and made life more than just surviving.

So, did it matter? He didn't think so. The odds of them even making it off the island were slim to none. At least, if he was stuck here, he was here with someone he'd found love in. That was all that mattered.

As Isaac worked his way back to camp, he contemplated what to tell Rose about his freakout. How would she react to him being her grandson? How would she react to him being from the future? Would she still love him?

"What happened?" Rose asked. He was barely through the gap in their shelter when she'd said something. She'd put her soaked shirt back on, but it did nothing to hide the wonderful lumps beneath.

"I..." He still wasn't sure what to say. The longer trip back to camp had given him time to question whether she would even understand time travel. "I'm probably going to sound crazy."

"Ummm," she said, pulling her arms around her torso.

"I think I'm from the future... or you're from the past... I'm not really sure which," he sputtered.

"W-what?" she asked, stifling a laugh.

"I... I'm not from the same time as you," he said, pausing to consider his next words. "So, imagine-"

"I know what time travel is," she chuckled. "Like The Time Machine."

"Not really a machine..." he said, not catching her reference.

"No..." she shook her head. "It's a book..." she waited, trying to see if he understood. When he didn't, she continued. "It was about a man who built a time machine to travel through time... it's been a while since I read it, so I don't remember all the details."

"Then..." he said, surprised that she understood him. "Yeah, kind of like that... except without the machine or, I guess, the intention to. You're taking this a lot better than I thought."

"You're insane," she said. There it was. "Time travel isn't a real thing."

He closed his eyes, considering how to approach this. Telling her about their relationship was definitely not going to happen now.

"I'm from 2016," he said, sitting himself down. "And I know you... I didn't realize it until you started doing the memory box, but I do."

"2016?" she asked, disbelief written all over her face. "And you know me... in 2016... when I'm-"

"74, yes," he finished for her. "Your birthday is February 23rd, 1942."

"I..." That caught her off guard. "How do I know you?"

"You live next door to my parents," he sighed, deciding to lie. "You used to watch me when they went out of town or wanted a date night."

"Are you..." She pulled back from him, covering herself more. "Are... what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, not moving from his spot. If she was scared, he wouldn't push her physical space.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Genuine panic was bubbling over. "Are you with the search party? You just 'happened' to find me and-"

"No!" Isaac said, startling her. He'd only just realized what she was implying. "I'm not part of a search party. I was running a supply run and crashed..."

"Prove it," she said.

Isaac sifted through memories of his grandma. Almost nothing he could think of would apply to this young of a woman as they were future events... but one stood out.

"You used to sit in your closet when you were little," he said.

"That's a lucky guess," she said, a little freaked out that he knew that.

"But you never told anyone about why," he said, staring down at the sand. "You did because it was a quiet place for you to read when you got scared... you would bring your stuffed teddy bear-"

"Melvin," she mumbled, disbelief coming to her face.

"Yes, you would bring him with you so he wouldn't be out in the world alone." Isaac looked up at her.

"How do you... how do you know that? I've never told anyone that. My... my parents don't even know that," she said, tearing up.

"You told me once..." he said, contemplating revealing the truth but deciding against it. "My parents were out on a date night and you had come over to watch me. I... I was scared, a lot, as a kid, but I trusted you. That's when you told me the story, to help me feel better."

"But..." she blinked several times, taking her time opening them, as she tried to do the mental gymnastics he'd already performed.

"It's a lot to wrap your head around," he said.

"In the future..." she said, giving him a weird look. Her eyes scrunched in while the side of her lips lifted. "Are we... I mean... does this mean that... I get off the island?"

"I... I don't know," he said. "You never mentioned being stranded on an island, let alone for as long as you've been here."

"That doesn't make sense... How could I have never come to the island?"

"What?" Now he was confused.

"In The Time Machine, the character traverses through time. He interacts with people and things. But when he returns, nothing is changed... does that mean, when you go home, my life goes back to what it was? And I don't remember you?"

"I... I hope not..." he said. His brain was hurting, trying to follow her logic. "Does he remember what happened?"

"Yes."

"So, in your understanding of how this could work, I would remember, but you wouldn't?"

"I guess," she said, her voice dipping. "What did you think would happen? That was the better way to ask my question."

"Well..." he brought his mind back to movies, because he wasn't much of a reader. "There are two thoughts about time travel where I come from..."

He reached for a stick and began drawing in the sand.

"The first is pretty simple. It's branching." He drew dots for where 1962 and 2016 were. "When I traveled back, just assuming that's what happened," He added in a line from 2016 to 1962. "Then showing up here, I've created a new timeline." He added a line going off to the side.

"Okay..." she said, reviewing his drawing. "I guess that makes sense. What happens to the other timeline?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I don't really remember."

"What about the other?"

"The other..." He let out a sigh, hoping he could make his words make sense. "The same thing happens where I go back... but the timeline itself doesn't change. I would've always come back here, with you..." They passed a smile. "Then we live through your time and future born me repeats the cycle... But I don't think that's what's happening."

"Why not?" She looked at him with a puzzled face.

"You never mentioned being stranded on an island for such a long time," he said, plopping himself down in the sand. "I don't think you've ever worked a day in your life, and the story about how you met your late husband was very different from any of this."

"Late husband?" she asked.

"Yeah, his name was Dwight."

"Dwight?" she burst into laughter. "That sounds like a guy my mother would set me up with."

When she finally stopped laughing, Rose hugged Isaac. "I promise, whatever this messed up time stuff is, I will never leave you. Let alone marry someone named Dwight."

The days that followed fell into a rhythm so natural it was easy to forget there was a vast world outside their little bubble. They woke with the sun, traded chores with jokes and quiet kisses, cooked together when the fish cooperated, and did what any newlywed couple would do when the stars came out. Their tattered clothes were all but useless by this point and had lost all meaning, leaving them walking around in their birthday suits, which only added to the number of times they'd jump on each other.

Overtime, they relaxed their rigid daily schedule, mostly when peak summer heat hit and their constant need to have sex left Rose exhausted.

But in their third week after being married, Rose suddenly didn't come to the fire when Isaac called for dinner.

"You okay?" he asked, finding her sitting in the sand a little way down the beach. She had her knees pulled tight to her chest.

Rose didn't speak, only closing her eyes as he sat beside her. When he wrapped his arm around her naked form, she lost it.

"I'm such an idiot," she cried.

Isaac said nothing, instead holding her tight and leaning his head against hers.

When Rose had a better handle on herself, she spoke.

"It didn't even occur to me..." Isaac wondered what she was talking about. "It should have, but it didn't..."

"What didn't occur to you?" he asked quietly.

"Isaac..." she turned to look him in the eyes. "I think I'm pregnant."

Isaac's first thought was panic. He was always careful... well... they actually hadn't been. The thought just never occurred to him. They were so caught in the love they shared... Plus; they didn't have any way to be careful. Shit.

"I... I don't know what to say."

"It's okay," she said, putting a hand on his knee. "I didn't either, which is why I'm out here."

"What do you want to do?" he asked, not sure why the thought that they could do anything about it pushed that out of his mouth.

"I want you to hold me," she said, leaning into him.

Isaac pulled her in tight, fear racing through him about what a pregnancy on this island meant. There were no hospitals, and he had no way of looking up how to deliver a baby. His knowledge went as far as TV and movies. All he could do was hope she knew what to do when the time came. But a kid... he had always wanted a kid... thoughts about quitting his job to settle down had sunk in before he left... but now... this wasn't a life for a kid... what choice did they have?

"Hey," he whispered. "Whatever happens, we do it together... okay?"

"Okay."

++++++++++

Life on the island changed. They were no longer trying to just survive and enjoy each other; they needed to prepare. Once they were over the shock of their new reality, Isaac threw himself into building a crib from drift wood, vines, and anything else he could get his hands on. The project took far longer than it should have and drew more laughter from Rose than progress, but he eventually had it standing near the back of their shelter... more stable than the shelter itself.

Rose organized their space and outline her plans for birth and the baby's arrival. It was more than her need to plan that drove her. Isaac was freaked out about having to do more than hold her hand through the process, so it was more about preparing him than anything. She wrote everything down in a small notebook she'd been keeping in her box of stuff, something she wasn't sure what to do with originally and didn't want to waste it on nonsense.

"I want to hold on to more of this water," Rose said, hand pressed against her side as she pointed up the small creek. Her stomach clearly showed her progress.

"Ummm," Isaac said, not believing what he saw.

"I know, it's going to be a lot of hard work for you, but I really think-" she said, not realizing he wasn't paying attention.

"Rose..." he said, tapping her on the arm.

"What?" she asked, shifting to where he was looking.

"Boat."

Rose's arm flew up to cover her chest as her other hand planted itself over her crotch. There was a mild amount of confusion in Isaac about the sudden embarrassment when he realized there were probably men on that boat.

"Maybe you should hang out in the shelter," he said, motioning her away. He didn't know if the boat had spotted them yet, but it was better to be safe. Quietly, he was also worried about how dangerous they could be. Even in his day, pirates weren't just old stories. They might've looked different and adapted to a modern world, but they were still dangerous.

It didn't take long for a small dinghy to launch from the vessel and head in his direction. Isaac called to Rose to keep herself hidden, just in-case they weren't friendly. With them finally approaching, he wanted her to be cautious.

"Hello!" a man in a lightweight, open-buttoned shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. There were two other men in the boat with him. One was driving from the back and the other hunkered down in the front with the barrel of a gun covering part of his face.

"Hi!" Isaac called back, wary of the intruders.

The boat slid onto the sand with a low scrape. The man in the buttoned shirt stepped out, water sloshing around his calves as he dragged the dinghy up farther onto shore. He gave Isaac a quick once-over. Isaac must've looked insane standing there with his long tangled hair, sun-darkened skin, and not a stitch of clothing in sight.

"Are you alone?" the man asked, his accent thick but his English clear.

Isaac hesitated. "Yeah," he lied.

The man squinted. "How long you be here?"

Clearly, he understood that Isaac's current state wasn't exactly a choice. "Months, not entirely sure how many."

The man exchanged a look with the driver, who only grunted with a nod. The guy with a gun stayed in the boat, scanning the tree line.

"You lucky," the first man said. "This island... not on map."

"You could say that," Isaac said, thinking about how lucky he was to find Rose.

The man looked around at the work Isaac and Rose had done on the beach. "Good job."

"Didn't have a choice," Isaac said, forcing a smile.

The man pointed back toward the larger boat. "We fish, ummm... the waters... tide push us here."

Isaac felt better about the men, but he was still worried about Rose. They could do what they wanted with him. It made his heart rate to think about what they might do with her... but he would not leave her here.

"You want... passage?" he asked, his face sincere and the only look of worry came when he look anywhere but at Isaac.

If it was only Isaac, he would've jumped at the chance for a rescue. Who cared if they killed him? The chance of going home was better than being stuck on the island... but Rose and the baby. They meant everything to him, and he couldn't guarantee that going with them was the right move. What if they attacked her? They seemed friendly enough, maybe cautious, but so was he.

"Clothes?" Isaac asked, deciding to test the waters first.

Without hesitation, once the man understood what Isaac was asking, he slipped his shirt from his shoulders and handed it to him. Isaac quickly wrapped the garment around his waist.

He closed his eyes and thought through his options. Life on the island was hard. Rose told him about those first two months, the ones her crew couldn't handle. Even if he could guarantee they'd survive all that, the birth of their child scared him. He never let her know, although he was certain she could see it on his face. What if something went wrong during the birth? He could lose them both. That thought was enough to make up Isaac's mind.

"My wife," Isaac said, pointing back toward the shelter. "Clothes for my wife?"

The man looked back at the others before saying something in a language Isaac didn't understand. The one driving the boat pulled his shirt off and handed it to the first man, who handed it to Isaac with a smile.

"One minute," Isaac said, holding his finger up before sprinting for the shelter.

"Is it safe?" Rose asked, worry on her face as Isaac wrapped the shirt around her shoulders. He pulled the other off his waist and wrapped it tightly around hers.

"I think it's safer than staying here," Isaac said, planting a kiss on her lips. "Our baby deserves more than we can give it here."

"Her," Rose said.

"Her?"

"I think it's a 'her.'"

"Well, let's get you and our baby girl home," he said, ushering her out of the shelter.

"What year is it?" she asked as they trudged through the sand.

"No idea," he chuckled. "Their English is a little broken."

They took their place in the dinghy, between the driver and the other two, and settled in. The boat bounced through the rough waters until they reached the boat. As Isaac climbed aboard, the name of the boat came into view. Silver Wake.

His breath caught. Grandma had told him the story a hundred times--how she met the love of her life on a tropical trip, how they'd fallen for each other on the beach. And how they left on this boat. She made it sound like a cruise, a postcard romance... but it wasn't. It was this.

They weren't having a baby girl; it was a boy.

"We're having a boy," Isaac whispered to her as the crew brought them blankets and proper changes of clothes.

"What? Why do you say that?" she whispered back.

"I'll tell you later," he said, unable to hide his smile. "But my name is Dwight from here on."

Rose's eyes narrowed at the name and the smile on Dwight's face.

++++++++++

Time, as it almost always did, moved forward. Dwight spent months explaining to Rose the semi-loop he'd figured out. How he was always meant to come back in time and fall in love with her. Why they needed to lie about how they met and not go back to her family. She pushed back on him, but every argument ended with him saying, "If anything is different, I don't know if I'll ever find you again."

He kept their familial connection a secret, continuing to refer to her as his parents' neighbor. It worried him that she might find him repulsive otherwise. When she asked questions about why he changed his name and a few other oddities he'd requested, he just said that she was going to meet a young boy named Isaac one day and didn't want his name to change anything.

They raised their son, Kevin, to be a beautiful and happy young man. Then, shortly after Kevin's eighteenth birthday, Dwight had to have the hardest conversation of his life.

"Rosy?" Dwight said, stepping into the sitting room. Rose was sitting on the couch, her knees pulled up to her chest, with a book in her lap.

Rose looked up from her seat with a smile brighter than Dwight felt like he deserved. "I was almost done with my book."

Dwight pulled the book from her lap and read the cover. "The Time Machine? Again?"

"What?" she laughed. "I like it... reminds me of the day I met you."

"About that..." Dwight sighed.

He sat beside her, setting a hand on her knee, causing a look of worry to spread over her face.

"You're scaring me," she said.

"And you should be," he said, calming himself. "What I'm about to tell you... it's going to change the way you see your life..."

She stiffened under his hand. "Dwight... what are you talking about?"

He looked at her, really trying to take in her beauty. "I told you once that you were my next-door neighbor..."

"Yeah... what are you getting at?" She placed a hand over his.

"I lied to you," he let out with a heavy breath. "We weren't neighbors. We weren't even friends. You helped raise me, Rosy..."

He let that sink in, watching her reaction. She didn't move.

"Tomorrow," he said, sandwiching her hand between his own. It was taking everything in him not to burst into tears. He needed to do this. He needed her to know. She needed to be okay. "I suspect Kevin is going to make us a grandson."

"Wh..." she chuckled, but looking confused. "I mean, they told us they were going to try."

"Our grandson's name will be Isaac," he said, the name draining all the blood from her face.

"But... wait... you..." she looked just like she did that day on the beach when he told her a secret she told no one else. "That would mean... it's a loop?"

Dwight nodded.

"You're my grandson?" She shook her head. "You're your grandson?"

"Wh... when did you know?" she demanded before he could answer her.

"I knew about our connection when I figured out that I was from a different time," he said, looking down at their hands. "I figured out the loop the day we left the island. The boat was called Silver Wake, just like in your stories."

"And that's why you wanted to change your name?" she spoke her thoughts. "I figured your name change had something to do that... I never expected... Grandma? All these years, whenever you brought up Grandma, it was me?"

Dwight shrugged as another thought came to Rose's mind.

"Why are you telling me this now?" she asked hesitantly.

"Tomorrow-"

"No!" she screamed, having put it together. "Don't say it."

"I will have a heart attack," he sighed, tears finally breaking through and forming in his eyes. "I know-"

"No!" she screamed again, this time through cries of pain. "You don't get to leave me!"

He wiped at his face, but the tears kept blurring his vision. "I don't want to leave you... but I don't have a choice."

"Of course you have a choice!" Her fists were clenched like she wanted to punch him. She looked up at him, that heart-wrenching glint of hope in her eye. "We'll go to- to the coffee shop near the hospital. That way-"

"No," he said, moving his hand to her arm. "We can't do that."

"Why not?" she begged.

"Because..." he took in a breath. "We can't risk things changing. The last twenty years of my life have been nothing short of incredible... and I wouldn't trade it for anything... even my life."

"But you don't know-"

"You're right, I don't... But I can't risk not falling for you. What if it's like your book?" He tapped on the book. "What if me living resets everything... and we never meet on that island?"

"But I need you..." she didn't beg this time, only collapsed into his chest.

"I know..." he sniffled. "But you get to spend the next thirty years with me... and I think they'll be great."

They sat in silence for what felt like hours, Rose crying quietly into his chest.

When she lifted her head, eyes swollen, breath shaky, she whispered, "if this is our last night... I don't want to spend it crying anymore. I'll have years to do that..."

With a knowing nod, Isaac twisted and scooped her into his arms as he lifted her off the couch.

Her head rested on his shoulder, and he could smell the fruity scent of shampoo in her hair. As he walked toward the bedroom, he couldn't help but think about how much he was going to miss this... miss her.

The room was dimly lit, only a small lamp in the corner casting shadows on the walls. He laid her on the bed, then stood back for a moment to take in the sight of her. Bringing himself onto the bed, he brought his lips to hers.

She reached up, slowly undoing the buttons on her shirt, revealing inch after inch of skin. When she reached the last of the buttons, she paused, causing him to pull his lips back.

"What's wrong?" he asked, staring deep into her eyes. She was thinking about something.

"Grandma? Really?" she said, bursting into laughter. "Didn't know you were into older women like that."

"Hey, you're the woman sleeping with a guy who isn't even born yet," he shot back, cutting off her laughter... they couldn't hold that long before they both erupted.

When they finally calmed themselves down, Rose undid the last button on her shirt and pulled it off. She never wore a bra... well, almost never, much to his delight. Isaac took the shirt from her and tossed it somewhere else in the room. Neither of them cared and leaned in to kiss down the curve of her neck. She shivered beneath his touch as he felt a surge of excitement run through him.

His hands moved to her pants next, carefully unzipping them and sliding them down her legs. He was rewarded with a well-manicured bush hiding a delectable pussy beneath. He couldn't help but groan in appreciation.

"What now?" she asked, a playful smile on her face.

"Now..." he said, lowering himself between her legs. "I take what's mine."

He started slowly, just like he did that evening, using his tongue to explore every part of her. Unlike that night, he already knew exactly where it was and teased her sensitive nub, causing her to moan and buck her hips. His lips closed around hers, sucking gently as he brought a finger into her. He worked her slowly, bringing her right to the edge, then shifting to another part of her anatomy while she begged him to finish her. He savored every moan, every shudder as he teased. Each time he put her on the edge, she tried to grind against his face in a desperate attempt to get more friction.

When she finally had enough, made clear by her attempt to shove his face inside her, Isaac gave her what she wanted. He pressed his tongue against her and dragged it slowly north. Her body tensed up as he brought her to the edge one last time, then pushed her over. Silence filled the room, save for the gentle sucking sound of his mouth, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through her body. She couldn't breathe, but he continued, fueling another orgasm as she shook. This time, she squirted.

"Stop," she begged, gasping and panting.

"Too much?" he asked, lifting his head. Evidence of her orgasm splashed across his face.

"Fuck me," she demanded.

"As my love wishes," he said, standing up.

She didn't give him a chance to undo the buttons on his shirt before she reached out and undid his buckle. Like someone who'd done this a million times before, she had his cock bouncing over top his boxers as his pants slid halfway to his knee.

Rose was warm and wet, and he felt like he was home as he slid deeper inside her. He started slow, gentle thrusts, giving them time to get in sync. But soon he couldn't help himself. Grunts escaped her lips as he picked up the pace, driving into her harder and faster with each stroke. She tightened around him, letting out a moan as she approached another climax.

He reached between them, slipping his finger inside to find her clit to rub it in small circles. The combination of his cock and his fingers were too much for her. Her mouth closed as her next orgasm hit, contracting her muscles around his shaft. It was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he held back, wanting to savor this moment with her. Thrust after thrust, he enjoyed her body quivering around him.

After another minute, he felt his own orgasm building inside. He leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss as he pushed himself all the way inside her. She smiled when jets of cum began filling her.

For a long moment, they lay on the bed, panting and clinging to each other.

Isaac didn't know how long they spent enjoying each other in every way possible, but they eventually drifted off to sleep.

The following morning Isaac pulled himself out of bed, thankful for her ability to sleep through anything, and got dressed. After leaving a small note on the nightstand, giving her the last pieces of information that she needed and a difficult farewell written years ago. He knew that if she saw him, she'd ask him to stay... and he couldn't bear the thought of telling her no. With a heavy heart and a purpose, he walked out the front door.

++++++++++

[The following echoes an earlier moment--this time, from her side.]

"Grandma..." young Isaac groaned, the phone going silent for a moment.

"I know you're worried," he said, bringing the phone back in so he could address her concerns. "They rarely let pilots fly these routes alone, but I think I can do it."

"You THINK you can do it?" she asked, worry shaking her voice. She knew he needed to get on that plane, but needed to play along as the worried grandma.

"I know I can," Isaac corrected himself. His voice changed as he spoke closer to the microphone. "Jackie's too sick to fly and they desperately need these supplies delivered before the storm rolls through tomorrow afternoon."

Silence filled the line as she fought back the tears. She knew that if she told him not to go, he wouldn't... Wiping away the tears, she sighed. "Alright."

"Are... are you sure?" Isaac questioned, confused by her reaction.

"They need the supplies, right?" she asked, doing her best to keep herself together.

"Yes." Isaac said, confidence growing in his voice.

"And the storm isn't supposed to be there until tomorrow afternoon?" she confirmed, reading from the list of things she didn't want to forget, including Isaac's list from thirty years ago.

"Yes."

"Then..." she choked on the word. "Then I trust that you'll be okay."

"I don't have-"

She cut him off, not wanting him to say it. "You do... They need the supplies and you're the best person for the job... It's just a grandma's job to worry, you know?"

"If you're sure," he chuckled.

"But you have to promise me..."

"You are always my first call," he said, knowing what she was going to ask. She always wanted to be his first call.

"And you're coming home next week, right?" It would be an empty promise, but she couldn't let him know anything was wrong.

"Yes," he chuckled, again. "I will be home for a few weeks this time."

"Isaac..." she said... catching a sob in her throat.

"I love you too," he sighed.

Over the loudspeaker, control called for his presence.

"I gotta go, Grandma," he said, voice dimming as the phone moved away. "Love you. I'll see you next week."

"It hurt..." she said, unable to get it out in more than a whisper. "But I did everything you told me to... I'll see you soon."

Rose laid back on her bed and curled beneath the covers, tears falling from her eyes. This had to happen. He had to go back. For hours she cried for the boy she'd raised, for the man she'd loved, and for the truth that their brief life together would never be enough. And when her breath finally left her, it carried his name... Isaac.