“Ruin the mystery,” she stated, her voice stronger than it had been in a while. “Who's the killer?”

Feeling better, Tristan put the card down and smiled slightly. “Maggie.”

“Are you serious right now?” She looked around the restaurant. “This has to be the worst episode of Candid Camera ever.”

“No, I'm serious. C'mon, it's The Simpsons. Of course, the killer is a joke. That's the point. So, if you can just believe this to be true, all of it, you'll know in September if I was lying or not. In the meantime, I'm going to tell you a crazy story, get everything off of my chest, and then we go from there. Sound good?”

Jessica looked as though she was going to agree when the napkin dispenser on the table violently knocked over and fell onto the floor. Neither of them had come close to touching it. As the two stared down at it Tristan thought he saw a shadow loom over him in his peripheral. He turned to see what it was, but there was nothing there. His eyes met with Jessica's, who now seemed to at least somewhat believe him.

“Okay. I don't have a choice. I'll believe for now. So, you're not from here...now. What does that mean exactly?”

Tristan patted her hand and took a quick sip of his drink. “It means that whatever happened to Tim isn't normal. See, some family members died in a plane crash about a month ago. I got the crazy idea to come back here and stop it. We arrived late and Tim fell into the coma. Whatever it is, though, it's obviously not normal because you guys can't seem to get him to wake up. So now I'm stuck here with him and I have no idea what to do.”

Jessica had finished her pizza and was nodding along. She wasn't sure if she believed him or not, so she was just treating this all as one big hypothetical. It was all she could do to remain sane for the moment.

“Wow. Okay, so pushing aside all of the weirdness that I can't possibly fathom at this point, do you even have a way back? Like, is your...time machine...hidden away somewhere, or do you have special watches that will send you back to your time?”

Tristan couldn't help but laugh out loud. Hearing it like that, he couldn't believe she had taken him seriously at all. Jessica began to laugh with him, nervously at first, but soon they were chuckling together. “No,” he started, it's not like that at all. “I don't even know how to explain for it to make sense anyways. We have a way home, but Tim's stuck in the hospital and they won't let him out the way he is. I'm starting to think I'm either going to have to kidnap him, or go back without him and pick him up another time.” He pushed his paper plate aside, frustrated.

“Good!” Jessica exclaimed. Tristan was taken aback, but she didn't seem to notice at all. “This is something I can actually help with.”

She produced her hospital badge and winked at him. “We should be able to get Tim out, but what do we do from there? Can you get him to...whatever or wherever it is you need to go to so you can...leave?”

Tristan nodded. “We just need to get upstate to Sands Pointe. From there, we can do whatever we have to in order to get home again.”

“Great!” she exclaimed. “I'll borrow my mother's car. I can meet you at the Hospital later tonight, around 6pm. We'll sneak him out during dinner.”

“What about you? Won't you get in trouble for losing a patient?” Tristan asked, worried he was putting too much on a stranger.

“I'll figure something out,” she said, clearly excited for the adventure. Jessica stood up and clapped Tristan on the shoulder. “This is easily the stupidest thing I have ever done in my life, but I can't tell you how excited I am. I'll see you tonight.”

She grabbed her credit card from the table and dashed off, leaving Tristan alone in the pizzeria. Was he taking advantage of Jessica's kindness? He needed the help, but he could be ruining a life by trying to save his cousin. He was lost in thought when he heard a loud smash! Tristan looked up to see chili flakes and glass shards raining down on a couple by the window. The two were cloaking themselves from the raining spices while looking at him with a mixture of fear and anger. The cashier, a tall, thin, dark-haired man with a heavy five o'clock shadow called over to him.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?!”

Tristan looked around, but there was no one else in the main dining area save for him and the couple.

“Wait, what?” he stammered, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Get the hell outta here and don't come back!” the proprietor called as Tristan ran away, confused and worried.

Tristan headed back to the cheap hotel he had been staying in and gathered the things he would be taking with him. He enjoyed his last shot at 90's TV while thoughts of time travel danced in his head. Had he changed things recklessly by bringing Jessica in on their troubles? Would time continue on the same as it had? First chance he got he was going to have to remember to watch “Who Shot Mr. Burns? Part 2.” If it wasn't Maggie, he had done something pretty terrible.

Jessica and Tristan met outside of the main entrance to the Hospital a few hours later. Jessica was standing in front of a wheelchair with a bag stuffed with clothes. Tristan looked at her questioningly.

“I thought about it long and hard. If I go in there, someone might realize that I'm there when I shouldn't be and I'll lose my job. So, you're going to go inside, change into some scrubs and use my badge. No one looks at them anyways, but it will at least make you look like you belong. You're going to go inside, detach him from the equipment that we're using to observe him, pull out his IV, and then bring him down to the parking lot in the wheelchair. Any questions?”

Tristan asked about how to properly detach Tim from the monitoring devices and how to pull out the IV without hurting him. She explained things as simply as she could and he was on his way.

Twenty minutes later Tristan was wheeling Tim through the parking lot towards Jessica, who had the car turned on and ready to go. They helped Tim into the backseat, propping him up against the window with a pillow. The wheelchair was placed in the trunk and the three-headed off into the terrible, New York City traffic.

Several hours had passed by with the two making small talk when they heard a groan from the back seat. Tim's eyes were opening as he stretched, looking about confused.

“What happened at that bar?” he asked slowly, seeing Tristan first and then realizing that they weren't alone.

“It's a really long story, and I don't have any good answers for you, sorry. The important thing is, you're okay and we're headed back to Essence House,” Tristan said, relieved to see his cousin finally conscious again.

“We're going where? Why? And...sorry, who is she?” Tim asked, caution taking over for the time being.

“I'm a friend who is temporarily believing in time travel to save two weirdos who were taking up a perfectly good hospital bed for far too long,” Jessica shot back with a wry smile.

Before Tim could say anything, Tristan stopped him. “I had no other choice, man. Let me explain.”

By the time the three arrived outside of the Essence House grounds Tim understood what had gone on, and as much as he wasn't happy with it, it was all completely out of his hands. He thanked Jessica, told her it was a pleasure to meet her and thanked her for taking care of him.

“I don't know what happened to you completely, but take care of yourself, Tim. Try not to time travel for at at least another week.” Tim laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I'll do that,” he said, opening the large, onyx Essence House gates and stepping through.

Tristan regarded Jessica for a long moment, unsure of how to show her his appreciation. “I...I don't know what to say, Jessica. I can't honestly know if I would have believed me if the roles were reversed. Thank you so much.” He held his arms out for a hug which she gladly accepted.

“As far as I'm concerned, I just did a nice thing for two strangers. This won't officially be weird until the end of May when I find out if you know what you're talking about or not.” She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek before stepping back. “Thank you for the weirdest story I can never tell,” the young woman remarked stepping back and watching as he nodded with a smile, turned, and headed through the gates.

The two made their way to the wine cellar door on the left side of the building. They opened it and walked all the way down to the cellar which looked to have a lot more wine than there had been the last time they had been there.

“Alright,” Tristan said, unsure of himself. “If I'm right, all we have to do is concentrate on going back to January second, 2020, in the early morning so we know that we won't come back before we left. Hopefully, that works.”

Tim gulped. “If it doesn't, I hope you end up in the coma this time. I shouldn't be punished twice for you wanting to do something stupid.”

Tristan walked back up the stairs and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I deserve that.” He opened the door and stepped up to find himself temporarily blinded by a bright light. When the two were finally able to see properly again they found themselves alone in the shed with none other than Uncle Rick. He looked so much worse than Tim had remembered. It had been years since Tim and Rick had been in the same room. The job with the plaza had been presented to Tim over the phone and he had retrieved the keys from the plaza’s post office box. The once spry uncle who had taught Tristan and Tim how to build a proper tree fort didn't look like he could lift a hammer. He was slumped in a wheelchair, eyes a pair of slits with little life left in them. Anger emanated from him as he leaned forward and glowered.

“I asked for one thing, keep people out of the tool shed, but you just couldn't listen.” He leaned forward, his hair shifting to reveal the bald head poorly hidden under the obvious comb-over. “Hand over the keys, Tim. You're fired. I can't have you two fooling around with things you don't understand.”

Tim dug out and passed Rick the ring of keys in annoyance. “You've been hiding whatever the hell is going on down there for decades, Rick. This is something the whole family should know about and be able to decide on.”

Rick started to laugh but choked on it. “Well the whole family knows now, but the property is in my charge, so the decision is made. Get off the property, and if either of you are seen here again you'll be dealing with the police. The two of you have made enough trouble.” He turned towards the door and barked, “Girl, come in here and help me lock up!”

A woman who looked in her mid 30's, with long, dark hair tied back, and a slim figure stepped into the shed. Tim walked past her, wanting nothing more to do with any of this nonsense, barely giving either the woman nor Rick a second look. Tristan followed behind, not wanting to talk to his father after everything they had been through. When he moved towards the woman she offered him a quick nod and stepped aside. Tristan slowed and gave her a second glance before the door was shut behind him.

“Jessica?” he whispered, to no one at all.