Past is Prologue, Presently

You've never had a father. Not really.

Even in the Un-Milked Timeline, at most all you had was a worthless man who was little better than a cloud of locusts. Some stranger who would appear once or twice a year, heralding a lot of fresh promises and weeks of tears for your poor mother. When he never reemerged after skipping town with the lion's share of her bank account, you always assumed he'd landed in jail or was dead. That was around twelve years ago, and his absence has been nothing but a pleasure for every single minute. Among the many gifts Magic has bestowed upon you, permanently removing him from your gene pool ranks comfortably in the top ten.

That's how Boy Ash felt, at least. And you're starting to realize that you've been trying to approach this Asher business with that same Boy Ash mindset. You were and are certainly glad to discover Asher wasn't dead, and if he'd wanted to come back and be with your mother, well, you'd have been happy for her. For them. Whatever. But not happier than you'd have been if she'd just, you know, gotten some other boyfriend or husband or something. You don't need him; the two of you aren't anything to each other. So why, then, did his **** to just be with Mom or leave you both alone send you into such a tail spin?

At first, you told yourself that you were simply outraged on your mother's behalf. Like, this guy wants to turn down an appreciably better version of his life, just because it means he'd have to be married to the most gorgeous and cool woman who's ever lived? Talk about Magic Wish Problems. But as you're **** to consider the situation, you have to admit that being concerned for your mom isn't the whole story. Because while there's no question that regaining the love of her life, only for it to be taken away again, would be devastating, she's Mallory Goddamn Price. She started out in Z-Grade flicks that paid in catering. She elbowed and clawed her way to a position of respect behind the camera as much as in front of it. She broke Harvey Weinstein's foot at a cocktail party once. She's tough, and she'd be able to take it.

No, the real problem is one that's been exhaustingly common in recent days: fucking reality-change history bullshit. Because while Boy Ash had such a bad experience with his father that just not having one seemed like the optimal solution, Girl Ash grew up without any father at all. And in every way that matters, it is the latter's experiences that shape you now, not the former's. It's not just your mom who's regaining someone, just to lose them again: it's You, too. And it hurts. And you're going to have to find a more productive way to deal with it.

Just ignoring him is certainly off the table now, that's for certain. You don't think you could anymore, regardless. You're both sitting in the open trunk of Isabelle's car now, Asher very quiet as he flips through pictures of you and your mom on your phone. You're not certain that he's blinked a single time, his breathing very slow and deep as he cycles backwards through images of a life he's only now remembering that he missed out on. If it wasn't for his occasional question, you'd be worried he was having a light seizure or something. "Who's this?"

You crane your head around, glancing over the picture in question. It's of a fourteen year-old you, with that awful undercut you used to think was so cool. But you're pretty sure he's referring to the tiger-striped puppy in your arms, wriggling desperately in an attempt to lick your face off. "That's Pazuzu."

"We had a greyhound, too. Bub."

"Oh, I remember Beelzebub! He was such a good boy. God, I must have cried for a week when he passed."

You don't mention it, but your mom did, too. And while you hadn't thought about it this way at the time, you're now realizing that had as much to do with losing her dog as it did losing the dog she shared with Asher. Fucking Magic. For his part, Asher simply absorbs this information and goes back to scrolling. He's pretty far back into your photos now, further than you've delved yourself since you milked them into existence. Huh. In a sense, you're both experiencing these memories for the first time. There's you and Jenny proudly posing with a grade school science project volcano, there's you and your mom at some variety of theme park. Asher seems particularly taken with some of your old Halloween photos. "Kids still watch The Nightmare Before Christmas?"

"This kid did. I wore that Jack Skellington outfit two years in a row."

"That's wild. How old were you? That's a scarier movie than most..." He trails off, shaking his head with a somewhat baffled smile. "No, never mind. You're Mallory Price's daughter; of course you wouldn't scare easily."

At those words, a brief wave of elation floods your heart, and it's simultaneously exhilarating and annoying and deeply embarrassing. You attempt to come up with a suitably snotty retort, but then Asher reaches the last photo in your gallery. It's in some house you don't recognize, on some couch you don't recognize, but you do recognize the man on it and the exhausted-looking young woman snoring on his shoulder. And you've got a decent guess as to the identity of the baby cradled in his arms.

Asher slowly sets down the phone, taking a moment to drag a hand down his face. You've got no idea what to say. Honestly, you're really just **** to hear what he has to say. It takes him a while, but eventually he does manage to work through his thoughts. "Even after everything that's happened, everything that I know has happened to me, I still didn't take what you said about the past changing seriously. I'm sorry, Ash."

You shift uncomfortably. "I should be the one apologizing. You've basically been in a coma for twenty years, and I've been treating you like you should already be over that and totally up to date on the rules of magic, too. I don't even understand the rules of magic, and I'm the one mucking around with it."

"Still. I was so sure that when and if I got these new memories, it would be like some part I'd half-learned. Just memories of a character I played once, or something. It's not. It's absolutely not." He rubs a thumb into the palm of his hand, frowning down at the ground. "I just wish I understood why so much about the timeline changed, but my accident didn't."

It's a good question, and while you can't be certain you suspect you've got the answer. "Well, magic doesn't work between realms, remember? When the timeline changed, and you were still in Elf World, maybe that meant it couldn't bring you back. So you had to stay missing, so magic had to engineer some way for your accident to still happen."

"It didn't happen."

"I know, I know. But at the very least, the changes staged it to appear like it happened. That, or something even more messed up was going on." You nudge the man with your shoulder. "You don't remember pissing off any witches in your new history, do you?"

Asher manages a small smile as he plays along. "I don't think so. I did have a Ouija board when I was younger, though, so I'm probably damned or something."

You can't hold back your flat stare. "Ouija is fake nonsense for scammers and poseurs. It's owned by fucking Hasbro. That's, like, as un-supernatural as it gets."

"God, you sound so much like your mother."

That's not fucking fair. You twist in your seat, fingers wringing as you reflexively snatch for the first retort you can come up with. "Yeah, well, you might have known that a lot earlier, if the original You hadn't fucked up so badly."

You regret the words before you even finish saying them, but there they are. To your surprise, Asher's response is a deeply sad smile. "You're right. I was almost the luckiest man in the world."

That's so not fucking fair. You can already tell you aren't going to hold back the tears welling up, opting to simply scowl down at the ground and attempt to keep them momentarily at bay with a loud sniffle. "Well...I wish you could have been there for some of those Halloweens. Mom couldn't ever do Oogie-Boogie's voice right."

You keep glaring at your feet, tears beginning to run freely as you wait for Asher's response. When it comes in the form of a cautious hand slipping onto your shoulder, you're simply too tired to make a show of fighting it. You allow yourself to be gently guided down to your father's shoulder, slipping your arms around his waist as you finally allow yourself to release the unbearable sadness you'd always sort of known existed somewhere deep inside you.

It's a bit more bearable with someone to share it with.

"So what are you going to do?"

Asher shakes his head as he navigates the car through your neighborhood, drawing ever closer to your home. "I don't know."

You lean forward in your seat, shooting him an incredulous look. "Really? So even after all of this, you might still just go all 'Hey Mallory, I'm back but also I'm out seeya later'?!"

"I--" Your father shakes his head again, setting his jaw resolutely. "No. I don't think I could, even if I wanted to. But it's been like twenty years, Ash. And unlike me, your mother lived all of those years. I don't know and you don't know how she's going to react, and it would be wrong of me to expect anything from her."

That answer is bullshit, and far too mature for your liking. Whatever, though. "Well just remember not to waste time trying to explain all the timeline stuff. As far as I'm aware, you and I are the only people who'll ever know about it."

Something in that strikes Asher. "So she really doesn't know about any of it? Any of this magic stuff?"

"No, thank God. She doesn't need even one drop of this nonsense."

"You aren't giving your mom enough credit, Ashley. She's strong. Do you really think she'd want you to be dealing with this without her?"

You shoot Asher a sharp bit of side-eye. "Of course not. That's why I haven't told her." Your father starts to protest that, but cuts off when you point towards an upcoming driveway. "That's it, there."

"Oh." Asher takes a deep breath, nervously readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. "Okay, then."

He carefully pulls into your driveway as you pull out your phone, selecting a contact. It rings a few times, but when he hears the voice on the line he can't hold back a shiver. "Ash? What's up? I thought you were going to be at Isabelle's tonight."

"Yeah, um, something came up."

"Oh? Good or bad?"

You glance Asher's way. "I guess we'll find out together?"

The man shivers again when your mom's amused chuckle rings out. "How mysterious! Just as long as it doesn't bite or sting, okay?"

You slip your hand over the receiver, raising your eyebrows at Asher. "You don't do those things, right?" When he shakes his head, you uncover the phone. "We're good."

Your mother laughs again before hanging up. And then it's just you and Asher, parked in front of your front door. He's looking pretty shaky, and you're finally able to not blame him for that. "Hey. Just...I'm glad I finally got to meet you. Okay? And I just hope that whatever happens, I can...um, we can still be part of each others lives. Okay?"

That seems to give Asher the courage he'd been missing, the man unfastening his seat belt and stepping out of the car. You hurry to free yourself as well, following behind as he makes his way towards the front door. He reaches for the doorknob, then pauses, looking back at you once more with uncertainty in his eyes. You've got this, A...Dad. You've got this, Dad. You can't be certain your exact thoughts got through to them, but when he turns back to the door again it's absolutely with a renewed resolve. He reaches out once more, only for the handle to swing out of his reach as the door swings open to reveal Mallory Price standing in the frame.

She's already started to say something, but blinks in surprise when she finds a man standing there instead of you. That surprise quickly shifts into recognition, then slams the gears back to reverse directly into shock again. She unthinkingly clutches at her chest, brow knitted together and lips quivering as she realizes who exactly this man in front of her is. The anticipation is beyond unbearable; someone just say something!

Perhaps driven on by your unspoken plea, Asher breaks the silence. "Magic is real."

Oh this mother fucker.