Reality Changes and Other Forms of Sorcerous Catfuckery

"So, Option One."--You jerk your thumb towards the group of elves enjoying their liquid creamsicles--"You could stay here. The Queen is my friend, so we could definitely hook that up. And based on how things usually work in the stories, they're probably obligated to make you a Duke or something, anyway."

Asher seems less than thrilled with the idea. "Hard pass. I already lived through the Eighties. All I got out of it was my first public breakup and a standing invitation to Jerry O'Connell's birthday parties."

"He seems nice; he was in a movie Mom starred in."

"Really? What was it?"

"Can't Hardly Wait?"

The title in question catches Asher off guard. "But that's a real movie, though. I mean, that's a movie I remember. Ugh, this reality change stuff is hard."

"God, tell me about it. But yeah, she's actually in a lot of movies that existed in both my timeline and yours." You start ticking off titles on your fingers. "The World is Not Enough...Eyes Wide Shut..._Heartbreakers..._I Know What You Did Last Summer..."

"Why so many Jennifer Love Hewitt movies?"

"I know; weird, right? Don't feel bad, though. I looked into it when I noticed the pattern? Apparently in my timeline she went to medical school instead of joining Party of Five. She's the Chief Medical Officer to the UN now."

Asher stares at you blankly. "Jennifer Love Hewitt is."

"That's Doctor Love Hewitt. Or Doctor Hewitt. I'm actually not sure if 'Love' is a middle name or...we're getting distracted."

Your newfound father can only shake his head, wonder and disbelief vying for control over his expression. "That's crazy. Can't Hardly Wait, huh? I saw that one. That came out, like..." He trails off. "...uh, I guess around twenty years ago, now. All of those people are in their mid forties. I'm fucking fifty."

"Well you look great."

"Uh, thanks. I think there were supposed to be some more options...?"

"Yes, right. Okay, Option Two! You come back and, uh...be my dad, I guess?"

Asher raises his eyebrows at that. "What? You mean you want me to act like my memories aren't all screwed up? Just...go back and pretend that I'm this other version of me?"

You raise your eyebrows right back at him. His answer here kind of matters a lot. "Well? Would you? Nearly all of your life is actually the same, you know. You only knew each other for about two years."

The man holds your gaze for a long moment, two nearly identical pairs of pale gray eyes locked together. Eventually, he frowns. "I'm not that good an actor."

"Actually, you are. You've got an Oscar and everything."

Asher lets out a snort. "Sure, from when I was fifteen, for a movie I was in for twelve minutes. It looks great between both of my Kids' Choice Awards."

"You were at least nominated for another Oscar." At the man's curious look, you finish that thought. "...uh, posthumously. Oh, you won Best Actor at Cannes! Well not you, I mean real you. Er, other you. Fucking reality changes."

That seems to legitimately surprise Asher. "I won an award at Cannes? When?"

"Like a year before your accident. Mom directed it, actually. You'd met the year before."

He considers that for a long moment, then turns on you with something close to a glare. "Look. Even if I was the best actor who ever lived, I still won't do that. Okay? You seriously want me to...what, tell this woman her husband is back from the dead? And pretend that I'm him? Because I'm not, Ash. I won't do that to her, and I can't believe you'd ask me to."

Alright. Good answer. "You're right. I don't want that. But here's the thing: You wouldn't actually have to act."

Asher's still frowning. "What?"

"The only reason your memories weren't updated is because you've been here. But if we went home? You'd be brought back in line with the new reality. I'm sure of it."

"So...what do you mean, exactly? I'd forget about all of this? And only remember this new version of myself?"

"I don't think so. I can't know for sure, but I'm nearly certain you'll be in the same boat as me. As in, you'll still remember your older version? But it'll fade away as your new history sinks deeper into your bones. It doesn't take long for the 'original' timeline to feel like a story that happened to someone else."

Discomfort is still plain on Asher's face. "Really? And no one will know the difference?"

"Nope. Actually, it's more than that. They literally won't be able to tell the difference, even if you explicitly tried to tell them about it. Reality change shit is really picky about that. Like, I've literally told people, people who know I've changed reality, that I changed things about them or myself. Things they have every reason to suspect were things I changed. And they just laughed it off."

"That is fucking terrifying."

"No kidding. It's some grade-A insidious nonsense."

"Was there another option?"

You shrug. "Sure. You clearly don't want to stay here forever, right?" He nods, so you continue on. "Well, if you were willing to hang out here for a little while, I'm sure I could eventually come up with some sort of magic that would keep your memories from getting updated. Once we did that, you could just go about your life however you wanted. Think of it as a sort of magical Witness Protection Program."

"What, like with a new identity?" Asher shakes his head. "I lost almost twenty years of my life. And you're suggesting I just...throw away the rest of it?"

"Yes." You raise your chin in defiance at his blank stare. "You think I'm going to let my mom, who I love more than anyone, find out her husband is alive, but doesn't want anything to do with her?"

"I keep telling you, I'm not--"

"And I keep telling you, you are. You are, Asher. The new reality isn't an illusion, or some lie every else has agreed on. It happened, and it doesn't particularly matter whether or not you're on board for it."

The man is doing his best to keep his frustration under control. "What about my estate? My royalty checks must have been going somewhere all these years."

"Sure they have! They've been added into your total assets, which are controlled by Mallory Price. You know, your actual wife. Did you know the Asher Isaacs Foundation is the single largest provider of scholarships to kids in the foster system nationwide?"

Asher pauses at that. "...I was in the foster system, you know."

"I know."

"I always wanted to set up something like that."

"I know. It's almost like my mother is the goddamn best. Not that you're interested in finding out, apparently."

Asher frowns, looking as tired as he is annoyed. "Will you give me a break already?"

This fucking guy. "Oh, I'm sorry; I thought I was offering to give you back your life as a rich actor, only twice as rich this time and married to the world's most beautiful and awesome woman. I must have been saying something else this whole time. Well my heart fucking bleeds for you, pal, but your only options are that apparent nightmare or a new life of quiet comfort somewhere far away from us. It's a real tragedy, I know."

"No. There's another option."

What? You tilt your head, folding your arms under your chest as you cede the floor. "Well go ahead, then. Let's hear it."

Asher sets his jaw, gathering his thoughts before offering his reply. "I'm going back, and I'm going to tell your mother the truth." He cuts you off before you can snarkily re-explain how reality changes work. "Not about all of this. We'll just say I've had...I don't know, amnesia or something. It's pretty much what happened, anyway."

"How is that any different from what I suggested?"

"Because after that, I'm going to tell her the truth. That it's been twenty years, and I'm not the person she married. That I'm not the person she loved. Because I'm not. I'm just not, Ash."

You really don't like how this is going. And he's also somehow making you feel guilty, which annoys you even more. "You don't know that. When you're back on Earth, the new reality will catch up with you."

"Maybe. But I'm going to tell her anyway. It's the only way we can both move on with our lives. It's the only responsible choice."

It's really starting to piss you off how he's managing to look dignified, even while in that ridiculous Tweety Bird shirt. "That stupid sentence almost sounded like a final decision."

"It was." To your deepening annoyance, he manages to offer you a sad smile. "I'm sorry."

You let out tsk at that. "Hey man, don't apologize to me. I haven't had a dad my whole life; having one now would be a fucking inconvenience. Oh and also? You did not deserve those Kids' Choice Awards."

The fucker's still just giving you that sad little smile, and when you feel a bit of moisture welling up at the corners of your eyes you want to scream in primal rage. You are not sad, goddamn it! You're pissed on behalf of your mom! You're so wracked with emotions that you don't notice Isabelle approaching until she's calling out to you. "Ash? Is everything okay?"

You sniff, furiously hoping it comes off as an expression of disdain rather than an attempt to hold back tears. "Asher, this is my girlfriend Isabelle. Isabelle, this is the man who's too responsible to be my father." Asher and Isabelle stare at each other for a moment, then exchange the most awkward wave you've ever seen. Good. "We're going to go break my mom's heart now. Sound fun?"

"Um, no."

"Too bad."