Chapter Text
The world bent.
Light surged.
The hourglass pulsed like a heartbeat.
And then—everything stopped.
The six Heathens landed hard on a familiar floor they know so well, they where at their mansion.
The air was dry, heavy with silence, as though no time had passed at all. The golden hourglass that once shimmered and pulled them into their future sat on the old table, dull and lifeless with cracks all over.
Its magic had ended.
But something in them began.
Everything was different now.
Killian sat up first, gasping like he had just breached the surface of deep water. His hands trembled as he looked down at them. They weren't bloodstained. They weren't bruised. Just hands. Hands that had once held his son. Hands that Eli King would one day hold while promising him forever. His chest felt hollow and full at the same time. He’d spent his life thinking he was too broken for love, too dangerous to be chosen—but in the future, he had been someone's entire world. A father. A husband. Loved.
Dimitri lay still, staring up at the ceiling, blinking slow and hard. He'd seen the inside of his future home—a fortress of black steel and silent elegance. But within it? A room of pink. A child who had curled up in her bed feel safe. And Creighton. The boy he never thought he wanted, standing beside him, not afraid of the monster within but reaching for it anyway. Dimitri didn’t know how to process the peace he’d felt—the warmth. It was too foreign. Too fragile. And yet, he wanted it.
Vaughn leaned against the wall, his head tipped back, a faint smile on his lips he didn’t bother hiding. He couldn’t. He was trying to burn every detail of the future into his memory. The soft touches. The laughter. The two kids who looked like him but grinned with Remington’s mischief. And Remington... gods. The same man who once referred to himself as "his lordship" was now calm, grounded, and still annoyingly perfect. Vaughn had fallen in love at first sight years ago—but now he knew what that love would grow into. He wasn’t going to let it go.
Gareth sat silently, staring at the floor. His mind replayed the moment his future son had run to him, confused and upset because he wasn't pregnant. The way the boy sobbed in his arms broke something inside him. But it was seeing Kayden—older, still intense, still terrifyingly observant—who brought everything together. The professor who he hated and he hated him will pick him apart and will stand by his side, and be protective, loving, the father of his children. Gareth, the hidden psychopath, had become a partner, a parent, a man reborn. And he looked beautiful. He had glowed. And for once, he didn't want to hide anymore.
Nikolai hadn’t moved. His breathing was uneven, shallow. He was still seeing Brandon. The way he held their baby. The garden bathed in sunlight. The pure elegance that radiated from him. The passion in that kiss. The joy in the chaos. A newborn who looked just like him—the same midnight hair, the blue eyes touched with Brandon’s love. That had been his family. His home. His safe place. He wanted to go back. He wanted to hold all of kids. But more than anything, he wanted to hold Brandon onto arms again.
Jeremy paced.
Of course he did.
He muttered under his breath, tugging at his hair, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"No. Nope. Not happening. I did not marry Landon King."
The others turned.
Killian raised a brow. "You literally kissed his neck."
Dimitri leaned back, smirking. "You wrapped your arm around him. Like it was muscle memory."
Vaughn added with a laugh, "You guys had twins. They were mini Landons...I'm scared."
Jeremy groaned, slapping a hand over his face. "This is a nightmare. I want to speak to the time gods. There has to be a reset button."
But beneath the banter, beneath the teasing and disbelief, none of them could deny the truth. They had seen their futures. They had seen what they could become. And what awaited them wasn’t pain or ruin. It was love.
Messy. Unexpected. Ridiculous.
But love.
They weren’t just six reckless boys anymore.
They were future husbands.
Future fathers.
Men who had purpose. Who had meaning. Who were chosen.
And it terrified them.
Because now they had something to lose.
Nikolai whispered, almost too softly to hear, "...What do we do now?"
The room was silent.
Jeremy stopped pacing. His voice, when it came, was low but steady. "We live. We protect each other. And when the time comes... we become them."
And the Heathens, for the first time, stood together not just as brothers forged by chaos—
But as men preparing to build the future they saw.
Together.
The End.