Chapter Text
Nathan buttoned his jacket against the cool evening air, the faint drizzle causing a shiver to run through him. The footsteps behind him were a faint echo of his own on the wet pavement, and he increased his pace slightly, growing alarmed when the person behind him did the same. Nathan had first sensed he was being followed a few blocks back, but had hoped it was his overactive imagination.
Jack’s voice echoed in his head. “You’re a damn fool for not taking one of those DOD goons with you; that’s what they’re there for.”
Of course, if Jack had still been around, he would have been walking next to Nathan, armed to the teeth, and Nathan wouldn’t have needed the DOD goons. And even if Jack hadn’t been by his side, Nathan wouldn’t have taken the risk, because he would have been living for their next too-brief tryst.
But Jack was dead—killed by the bullet meant for Nathan, doing the job he’d long since ceased being paid to do.
Whatever the risk, however, there were times when Nathan wanted some control, even if it just meant going out for a walk without company. He wanted a little normalcy—even if Nathan Stark had never fit under anyone’s definition of normal.
Nathan ran a hand over his damp hair, moving a little faster as he ducked around a corner, and the footsteps behind him redoubled their pace. Nathan cursed himself for taking this route; the business park was always deserted Saturday afternoons, and no one was around to hear sounds of an altercation, or shots fired.
And maybe his work had been the only thing keeping him alive for the last few months, but Nathan had no desire to die like this. It would be too much like to giving up.
Nathan began to run, hearing a curse from behind him, and he ducked instinctively at the sharp report of a gun. Out of the corner of his eye, Nathan saw the brick just to the left and slightly above his head explode, and a shard of brick cut his cheek.
He ignored the sting and the slow drip of blood, and heard a second shot. This time, he felt a sharp heat in his right arm, and the pain-fueled adrenalin that rushed through his system added speed to his steps.
Nathan was running full-out when the sky tore open in front of him, and he had only a split second to make a decision.
Better an uncertain future than certain death, Nathan thought, and he dove headfirst through the rip in space.
The transition was indescribable, and seemed to last forever. The sensation was electric—hot and cold at the same time—and it stunned him enough so that he lost his footing immediately when he felt a hard surface under his feet again. He landed—injured arm first—on a white tiled floor, and pain caused his vision to gray out.
And if that wasn’t enough, Nathan heard an unfamiliar voice call out, “Watch out! She’s gonna blow!” seconds later, and he automatically covered his head with his good arm.
Nathan heard a mechanical whine, and then an explosion. White-hot pain traced a line across his right shoulder, and this time his vision went black.
He stirred slowly, his senses returning with an abrupt jolt when he felt warm, strong hands turn him over gently. “Hey, you okay?” A pause. “Stark?”
Nathan blinked, seeing a familiar pair of blue eyes. He watched as the color drained from Jack’s face, and Nathan realized that Jack’s expression probably mirrored his own—that of a man seeing someone he’d thought long dead and in the ground.
Nathan knew this wasn’t the Jack he’d known—that Jack Carter had died in his arms five months before, after throwing himself in front of a bullet. This Jack Carter was alive, his strong hands gripping Nathan’s shoulders tightly, wearing a tan uniform that bore no resemblance to the suit and tie he’d worn while on duty—or the jeans and faded t-shirt Jack preferred on an off day.
But even having made those observations in a split second, Nathan couldn’t resist reaching up and pulling Jack’s lips to his own. This Jack might be with another version of himself, or with someone completely different, or even with no one at all, but Nathan poured everything he’d felt in those last moments when he’d held Jack’s lifeless body.
I love you. I need you. Please don’t leave me.
Nathan pulled back when he realized that Jack wasn’t responding. At least Jack’s befuddled expression bore no hint of anger or disgust, and he helped Nathan to his feet with gentle hands.
“You okay?” Jack repeated, and Nathan noted when Jack’s eyes noted the cut on his cheek, and the blood on the sleeve of his jacket.
Nathan nodded. “Scrapes and bruises.”
Jack glanced around, then yelled unceremoniously, “Fargo!”
A thin young man appeared almost immediately, coughing slightly on the smoke from the still-sizzling machinery. “I’m okay, Sheriff.”
“Good. Now what the hell did you do?”
Jack’s barked demand had Nathan suppressing a grin, and he glanced around the wreckage, recognizing the remains of a high-tech lab, not too different from the one the DOD had provided for him in D.C.
Nathan caught a bit of Fargo’s babbled explanation, enough to know that it involved string theory and twin particles, and that his appearance was more by accident than design. In a way, it made him feel better—since it made it unlikely that it was a part of a plot on his life—even though Jack’s frown was deepening with every passing moment.
“Okay, Fargo, in English,” Jack snapped, clearly trying to summon the remaining shreds of patience, and Nathan turned his snort of laughter into a cough.
Nathan had annoyed Jack enough in the past to know exactly what he sounded like when he was ready to lose his temper, and Jack wasn’t far from exploding now.
“I believe Fargo brought me in from an alternate universe,” Nathan supplied, watching Fargo gape at Jack like a fish, clearly intimidated.
Jack sighed. “Does this mean another explosion, or the collapse of the universe and the destruction of everything we know, Fargo?”
“No, Sheriff,” Fargo managed to choke out. “I promise. It wasn’t even supposed to open any doors, but—it did?”
“And there was an explosion because?” Jack prompted.
“Because the containment field failed?” Fargo hazarded. “It wasn’t meant to open up a gateway, or anything like that. The power—”
Jack held up a hand. “Okay, I got it. As long as you can assure me that the world isn’t going to end in the next fifteen minutes—”
“I promise,” Fargo interjected.
“—then I’ll let you get Stark here to the infirmary, while I talk to Allison. I don’t want her to hear about this through the grapevine.”
“Dr. Blake was on a conference call with the joint chiefs just a little bit ago,” Fargo supplied helpfully. “She should still be in her office.”
The name rang a bell for Nathan, but it took him a few seconds to place it. “Dr. Allison Blake?”
Jack and Fargo turned to stare at him, eyes wide as though he’d just committed a huge faux pas. “Do you know Dr. Blake?” Jack prompted, his voice almost gentle.
“I’ve run into her a few times,” Nathan admitted. “She works for the Department of Defense, doesn’t she?” At their incredulous expressions, he added, “Should I know her?”
“Never mind,” Jack murmured. “Fargo, take care of him. I’ve got to find Allison.”
Nathan watched Jack stride out through a door that opened automatically, then closed behind him, and he turned to Fargo, who was staring at him as though Nathan embodied the second coming.
“Dr. Stark,” Fargo finally managed. “It’s really good to see you again.”
Nathan decided that it wasn’t worth pointing out that Fargo was seeing him for the first time. Instead, he glanced around the lab, his interest piqued in spite of his throbbing arm and shoulder. “How does it feel to have proven string theory?”
Fargo blushed and beamed at him. “Good. Really good, especially since it means that you’re here.” He glanced at the blood that dripped from Nathan’s hand onto the floor and gulped. “Let’s get you to the infirmary. I don’t want the sheriff mad at me.”
Nathan followed Fargo out the door, feeling a smile pull at his lips when he remembered Jack—alive and well, and apparently the sheriff of somewhere. “No, we wouldn’t want that,” he agreed. “So, where exactly am I?”
Fargo’s expression was puzzled. “Eureka,” he replied, as if that would tell Nathan everything he needed to know.
“Eureka?” Nathan echoed. When Fargo stared at him silently, he added, “I’m assuming we’re still in the United States.”
“Uh, yeah. Oregon.” Fargo pushed his glasses back up on his nose. “You’ve never heard of Eureka?”
“No.”
Fargo gulped audibly. “Oh, boy. This is going to be interesting.”
~~~~~
The point of the experiment he’d been running had been to explore how entangled particles acted when exposed to high concentrations of energy. Fargo had not expected his experiment to blow up—let alone open a door to another universe running parallel to their own.
Fargo hovered inside the door to the infirmary, watching as Dr. Stark removed his jacket and shirt with help from one of the nurses. Fargo had never seen Dr. Stark dressed like this, not when he’d been out of a suit for whatever reason, not even when he was fresh from his workout at the gym.
Nathan Stark did not wear well-worn jeans, heavy boots, threadbare t-shirts, or canvas jackets. Nor did he ever go anywhere looking shaggy, as though he’d spent the last few weeks in the woods.
And Fargo had never thought of Dr. Stark as someone who spent a lot of time camping.
Fargo couldn’t quite decide what to do; part of him wanted to talk to Dr. Stark, who seemed a lot more approachable than his counterpart. Part of him wanted to check on the data collected to see what had gone wrong—or maybe gone right.
One of the infirmary doctors was currently stitching up the wound on Dr. Stark’s back, and Fargo decided that now was not the time for interruptions. He could talk to Dr. Stark later.
Right now, he had a lab to clean up, and data to analyze. Assuming he could figure out what had happened, and assuming the whole thing didn’t remain classified, Fargo might even get a Nobel out of it.
~~~~~
Jack swiped a hand over his mouth, his lips still tingling. He’d been inappropriately turned on by Stark’s kiss, considering that Stark would have been Allison’s husband right now had he survived.
A version of Stark, anyway—this Stark had kissed him as though his life depended upon it, and had looked at Jack with something that looked a hell of a lot like love.
Then again, Jack would have known that this wasn’t the Stark who had dissolved before his eyes even without that uncharacteristic gesture. This Stark was thinner, without the bulk that only came from hours in the gym, and he had the pallor of someone who rarely saw the sun. His hair was longer and shaggier, his beard scruffy and untrimmed. The well-worn jeans, blue t-shirt and brown denim jacket were nothing like the suits he’d favored in Eureka.
This Stark looked like someone who didn’t much care about his appearance, and hadn’t cared for a very long time.
Jack hurried towards Allison’s office, knowing how quickly word spread around Global Dynamics; he didn’t want her to hear that Nathan Stark had returned, or that his ghost was floating around the halls, before he had a chance to talk to her.
He caught Allison just as she was leaving her office, a worried frown on her face. “Carter! Did you hear—”
“I was close,” Jack assured her, putting a steadying hand on her arm. “It was Fargo’s lab, and he’s fine.”
Allison seemed to catch his deliberate omission. “Was anyone with him?”
“No one was badly injured.” Jack nudged her back into her office. “Let’s talk first, okay?”
Allison allowed him to lead her inside. “What is it?”
Jack sat down in one of the chairs facing her desk, waiting for her to join him. “What do you know about Fargo’s experiment?”
Jack was glad to see that Allison trusted him enough to answer his question without a show of impatience. “He was testing the hypothesis that other universes exist.” Allison’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“He brought something—someone—from a different universe,” Jack replied softly. “That’s where the explosion comes in. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting it, and the seal didn’t hold.”
“Who, Jack?”
He could see that she already suspected; her eyes were huge and shiny, and Jack hated to see the flare of hope. “It’s Stark—Nathan,” Jack corrected himself. “He’s different, though. I think you’ll understand when you see him.”
Allison took a shaky breath. “Did he—what did he say?”
“Not much,” Jack replied honestly, then added, “You should know that he didn’t seem to know you, although he thought you worked for the Department of Defense.”
Allison was already shaking her head, as though to deny Jack’s words. “He didn’t know me.”
“Or Fargo.”
Allison was a pro at reading his omissions by now, Jack thought. She immediately asked, “And you?”
Jack shrugged. “He seemed to know me pretty well.”
Allison put her hands over her eyes, and Jack ached to reach out and comfort her. He’d done everything in his power to simply be there for her since Stark’s death, trying to be content with her friendship, and not pressing for anything more.
In truth, Jack had given up, his guilt making it impossible for him to ask for anything more.
“I want to see him.” Allison looked up, her eyes full of determination.
Jack had known she would, and he nodded. “I’ll walk you down there.”
They made the trip to the infirmary in silence, Jack’s hands shoved deep in his pockets as his mind whirled with possibilities. He had no idea what his reaction to the kiss should be; this might be Nathan, but it was a different Nathan than he’d known. It wasn’t like he was stealing Allison’s boyfriend.
And really, Jack hadn’t kissed Nathan; it was the other way around.
They both stopped just inside the infirmary, spotting Nathan across the room. He sat on the edge of an exam table, shirt and jacket off, blood marking his cheek and back. Jack had seen Nathan’s bare chest on two separate occasions, and he could see the differences even more clearly now.
“Oh.” Allison’s exhalation told Jack that she understood what he’d meant. “He’s—”
“Yeah.” Jack reached out, touching Allison’s arm in a supportive gesture. “Whatever you need, Allison. I mean it. You just tell me what I can do.”
“Thank you, Jack.” Allison touched his shoulder in a friendly gesture. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Yeah, sure.” Jack stepped back, just out of sight of the examining table. He lasted for about thirty seconds before repositioning himself so that he could see Nathan and Allison, but they couldn’t see him.
Jack could see the tension in Allison’s shoulders as she stood in front of Nathan. The other man scratched at his beard, looking uncomfortable. Allison reached out to touch Nathan’s face, then drew her hand back before making contact.
Nathan reached out, grasping Allison’s hand, his expression sympathetic, but with the sort of compassion reserved for a stranger or an acquaintance.
Allison took a step backwards, breaking contact, saying something that Jack couldn’t hear, and he realized that Allison was on her way out. Jack moved quickly, not wanting her to know that he’d been watching.
“Carter, I need you to take care of him,” Allison said as soon as she saw him. “I—I have to figure out how to explain this to Mansfield, and get things settled. There’s paperwork, and finances to figure out, and I can’t have Kevin confused.”
“I understand,” Jack replied gently.
“He doesn’t have anywhere to go.” Her voice trembled slightly. “I don’t know—”
“Allison, I get it.” Jack put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. “I told you—whatever you needed me to do, I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of him, too.”
“Thank you,” Allison breathed. “It’s just—I can’t do this, Jack.”
Jack nodded. “I understand. Don’t worry about it.”
“There are some clothes—things of Nathan’s I hadn’t cleared out yet—in my garage.” Allison took a deep breath. “You know the code?”
“I know the code.” Jack drew her into a brief, friendly hug. “Go. I’ll take care of him.”
“Thank you,” she repeated. “I’ll see you later?”
She made it into a question, and Jack nodded, watching as she rushed out of the infirmary. He headed over to Nathan, who was staring at the floor, apparently lost in thought.
“Hey.” Jack spoke softly, not wanting to startle the other man.
Nathan glanced up. “How is she?”
“I’m not sure,” Jack admitted. “It’s been a rough few months.”
A frown creased Nathan’s brow. “How long has it been?”
“Five months.” Jack spoke without thinking, not realizing until that moment that he had been keeping track of the time. “You—he—” Jack stopped, unable to figure out how to refer to the dead Stark and this Stark.
“Call me Nate.” Stark’s gaze was tender, and Jack was forcibly reminded of the day the other Stark had died. “Allison said that no one called the other me that. I thought it might be a way for you to distinguish between us.”
Jack nodded slowly. “Yeah. Stark died to save the universe. There was a time loop, and there was only one way to stop it.”
“And he and Allison—”
“That was supposed to have been their wedding day.” Jack found it easier now. Nate sat in front of him; Stark had died. “Look, uh, Allison asked me to…” He trailed off, realizing that his initial explanation might be insulting.
“She asked you to look after me?” Nate supplied easily. “Yeah, I thought she might. I told her I didn’t mind.”
Jack scratched the back of his head. “About earlier—”
“I’d tell you I was sorry, but I’m not.” Nate interrupted him, not letting Jack finish. “But I know you’re not him. I’m not going to push it. Just—seeing you alive is enough for me.”
“How long?” Jack asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
“Five months.” Nate gave him a wry smile. “This is more like a mirror universe than a parallel one.”
Jack frowned. “Star Trek?”
Nate gave him a delighted smile. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure…” He trailed off. “Never mind. Like I said, I’m not going to push anything.”
“You ready to get out of here?” Jack asked, uncomfortable.
Nate nodded. “Yeah.”
Jack found Nathan’s torn, bloody t-shirt and jacket without too much trouble. Nathan glanced at the bloodstains and tears with a rueful smile, then pulled the shirt over his head and shrugged into the jacket with a wince. Stark would have made Fargo find him clean clothing; Nathan didn’t seem to care one way or another.
“Fargo told me that we were in Eureka,” Nathan said as they made their way out of the infirmary, through the halls of GD. “He didn’t tell me how a U.S. Marshal wound up the sheriff of a crazy town in Oregon, though.”
“Car crash,” Jack replied, deciding that it was easier to explain than it was to question why Nathan wanted to know. “I was retrieving my daughter.”
“Zoe? How is she?”
Nathan sounded interested, as though he really cared, and Jack found himself responding without thinking about it. “Good. She’s good. She’s about to graduate from high school.”
“She’s with you?”
“Yeah.” Jack didn’t bother asking if he had custody of Zoe in the other universe, knowing how lucky he’d been to get her in this one. “Look, we need to stop by Allison’s to get you some clothes, but once you get cleaned up, do you want to get something to eat? We can stop by Café Diem, or order a pizza and get a beer.”
Nathan’s eyes lit up at that idea. “Extra mushrooms?”
Jack eyed him for a moment; he had no idea if this was a memory, or a preference that remained true, no matter how many dimensions were crossed.
“Sounds good.”
And while Jack had planned on dropping Nathan by the bed and breakfast, he now figured that he’d offer Nathan the guest room. It would offer Nathan more privacy, and it would cut down on town gossip, at least for the time being.
It was the least Jack could do for the double of the man who had saved Eureka, and the universe.