T minus 5 years

Death do us part, brother

Vikram woke up with a sweat. He got up from the bed and found a towel to dab the sweat on his body. The scene of Rajit burning in the fire kept replaying in his head. Is this the future I'm supposed to change? Will Rajit be alive in the end if I change the future? He thought to himself. He looked at the clock in the living room, which read 5:00 pm. There's still a long time before Rajit comes back from office.

Should I tell Rajit? he thought to himself. Would he still help me if he knows staying with me would mean him getting burned alive?

He thought back to the scene. Rajit fighting the fire while he was being called to the transporter. It should've been me. I should've fought the fire. And he should've survived, he told himself. His hands went to the seams of his shirt as a reflex. Vikram felt confused for a moment but let the hands do their work. His hands removed his shirt and balled up into a fist. He didn't understand what was happening. He stopped his hands from beating himself. His brain told him he deserves to be punished for being the cause of Rajit's death, and his body was following that. His hands went towards his right pocket, where he keeps his wallet.

He ran towards the bedroom, where he has a full-body mirror. He switched the light on, and the reflection that stared at him was not just old but also scarred. His chest had scars that were still healing, and when Vikram put his hand, he could feel it was still raw. What's happening? Why do I have so many scars? He examined each scar. The scars were made through a blade; he could figure out. Who would cut me? Why would someone cut me? He wondered. He looked closely and found out that the angle of the cut was horizontal. The length of the cut was longer than the width of a standard knife. There were multiple cuts on the body. Definitely slashed after stab. But who would do that?

He touched each of the scars and winced in pain. A few were new; a few were really old. My hands were going to the wallet. Why? he thought to himself. He checked his pocket, and his wallet was still there. He opened his wallet and checked each slot. In one of the slots, he found a blade that had a red tint to one side. Was I cutting myself? Why?

Why was I cutting myself? How long has this been going on that the scars are so old? How many have healed? The more he thought, the more his head hurt. He put his shirt on and walked to the couch, and crashed on it. He tried to sleep but sleep eluded him. Rajit's burning alive kept replaying in his head.

He thought a little more about Rajit. If Rajit was there, 5 years later, then he's an important part of this mission. But can I ask him to take this task? What task is this, in the first place? His thoughts wandered around the last scene. He closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come.

Rajit! He saw Rajit's burning body. 

Vikram, there's no time. We can't delay. The vortex won't be open for long. A voice screamed at him. 

Rajit! he screamed, trying to run towards Rajit's body. Someone was holding his hand and dragging him to the other side. Rajit! he screamed, a tear running down his face. Rajit! Wake up, buddy. Rajit! Rajit! he kept crying. He felt his struggle weaken, and the pull growing stronger. He was being pulled towards the time machine. 

Vikram, we don't have time. Come on, Vikram. Get to your senses. He looked over Rajit. 

No! Nothing matters if Rajit is dead. What's the point? 

The pain took a moment to register to his brain, but the sound was on time—a slap right across his face. Get to your bloody senses, Vikram. Rajit's death will be in vain if you don't do this. Get to your bloody senses. 

Why me? He asked himself. 

Vikram, we don't have time to go into the details. You are the one to do this. We've discussed this a thousand times before.

But we never thought this plan would come into place.

It has come, Vikram. We've gone beyond a point we could do something now. It has to be done in the past. Now, get in the bloody machine. And this time, change the future, Vikram.

Vikram woke up, startled. Why do I keep getting fragments? Why couldn't you have sent one note with me? What the f**k am I supposed to do? What damning future am I to change? What am I doing here? A bead of tear made its way through his eye towards his nose. What the f**k am I doing here? I'm gonna lead Rajit to his death. I don't want to do this.

He startled when he heard a knock on the door. He took the blade in his hand and shouted, "Who is it?"

"Vicky, bro. It's me" Rajit's familiar voice. 

Rajit is still alive. Vikram felt a sigh of relief. For now, his brain added. He put the blade back in his wallet and put the wallet on the coffee table as Rajit opened the door. Vikram ran towards him and hugged him tightly. "Bro, I'm so glad you're here."

"I'm here, bro. What happened? Did you have a nightmare?"

"Sort of. We need to talk" Vikram said.

"Okay. Let me just set the food, and we'll talk" he said. He walked up to the kitchen and put the food near the oven. There was still time for dinner, and Rajit was planning on going out, if possible. He came back to the couch where Vikram was sitting with his elbows on his knees and deep in thought. "Tell me, Vicky!" he said, putting his hand on Vikram's shoulder.

Vikram looked at him, and Rajit saw a feeling he never could understand. Someone coming back. Vikram took a deep breath and narrated the entire scene. In the end, he looked over to Rajit to whom this was already too much and asked. "That's how the story ends, Rajit. I don't know what I am supposed to be doing here, but if you're stuck with me all along the way, then you'll die. I don't want that to happen to you."

"What are you afraid of, Vicky? We all die one day or another. I'm just glad I mean so much to you, and you're there for me, even in the end."

"That's the thing, Rajit. At this moment, I'm not at all sure what's going to happen. All I know is you're going to die. I don't want to involve you and cause your death."

"Bro, don't worry about that. You stuck by my side when I needed you, and I ain't gonna abandon you when you need me."

"But..."

"I don't care. Death do us part, brother. Death do us part!" Rajit said, hugging Vikram. A tear dropped from Vikram's right eye. He felt belonged once more.