Chapter Text
OA started to open her eyes and then promptly closed them again against a harsh brightness. Something smelled like … soil? She lied still, waiting for the ringing in her ears to subside, and when it did, she could hear birds singing.
She sat up with a start, finding that the brightness was actually a clear blue sky. She was sitting in the dirt. The day was quiet and serene, tree branches swaying against a light breeze.
Directly in front of her was a house—a cabin—she didn’t recognize. And there were dirty gloves on her hands. And a straw hat on the ground that must have tumbled from her head. It appeared her body’s previous occupant had been doing some gardening, rehoming daffodils from little pots into the the house’s flower bed. Whose house? She slipped off the gloves and found lightly calloused hands beneath. Huh.
She felt for her hair at once, relieved to find it long and normal again unlike the odd pixie cut she’d seen in the mirror in the last dimension. The one where she’d forgotten herself. The one where Homer had stopped at nothing to find her.
They had made the jump together—just the two of them this time—but here she seemed to be alone. Getting to her feet and turning around, she was stunned to find that the house was uphill from a serene lake, bordered by dense trees. Certainly not a place she recognized. But none of that mattered yet. She just needed to find—
“OA?” came his voice, faintly, from … somewhere.
“Homer?” she called back, spinning around, but she didn’t see him—and then the door of the house flew open and he was there on the porch.
She rushed forward to meet him and didn’t stop until she could grab him by the shoulders and pull him into her arms. He hugged back so tight—tighter than anyone ever had—and she couldn’t fight her smile.
“Homer,” she said softly, holding him still.
When he pulled back to look at her, she smiled again and ran her hands over his hair—a little longer and shinier than it had been in their first life together. His skin was slightly tanned, too, and he was clean-shaven again.
“Look at you,” she said. “You have freckles!”
“So do you,” he said, and the way he smiled melted her heart a thousand times over.
All at once, she had nothing more to say and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him once and holding the pose and her breath for what felt like a full minute before she broke off. He touched her face this time, and she leaned into his hand. When he kissed her, he did so with more finesse, pecking her once, then again on the other side, then going in for a longer passionate kiss. White hot desire bloomed inside her with a force that left her dizzy.
“I think we’re alone here,” he said, and she knew he was feeling the same thing.
Here. This … lake house? She snapped back to reality. They had just jumped. They couldn’t be reckless. She needed to know that they were in a safe place.
“Do you think we live here?” she said, looking over at the door he’d left open.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I was in the kitchen after we jumped.”
“And I was planting flowers. We should take a look around, before … um.”
She felt her cheeks go warm. Were they really finally alone?
“Okay,” Homer said, taking her hand and leading them inside. “Let’s go look.”
***
They walked into a living room that reminded Homer a little of a grandmother’s house. In a cozy way. It had all been a blur when he’d rushed outside, but now he took in the polished hardwood floors, mustard-colored rug, and old-fashioned furniture. Lots of green plants and flowers, multiple large paintings, an enormous bookshelf, and a fireplace below the TV. It set in that they might have dropped into someone else’s home.
OA turned her attention to a collection of little framed photos displayed on a cabinet, cupping her mouth and grabbing one.
“Homer,” she said, holding it out to him.
The picture showed the two of them, arms linked, wearing hoodies. They looked young—younger than now, but maybe the same ages as when they would have been in Hap’s basement? But here they were happy. They were together.
“Homer, look!”
He realized she was crying now, and taking the next photo, he understood why: It was the two of them on their wedding day—OA smiling at the camera, perfectly angelic in her white dress, while Homer was too busy looking at her to bother posing. He laughed a bit at that, and then his vision went a little blurry. The picture was a welcome explanation for the simple gold ring on his left hand.
Abruptly, OA pulled him into her arms again and kissed his cheek.
“We got married,” she said. “We found each other here and loved each other and got married.”
He wiped his eyes and kissed her again. “How’d you find this place?”
She had led the way when they jumped, of course. At the question, a big smile spread across her face.
“I just imagined us happy together.”
He nodded. “I think this is our house.”
She laughed a happy laugh and turned back to the other photos. He followed, coming upon a childhood picture of himself with a white dog—holy shit.
“Oh my god,” he said, snatching it up. “I had this same dog. This is Roxy.”
OA smiled again. “You’re both so cute.”
He was placing the dog photo in its spot when he realized she had sank into a chair—holding a photo that had apparently stunned her. Without saying anything, he moved to sit next to her and looked over her shoulder. At once, he understood and grabbed her forearm. The picture was her—adult her—standing next to an older woman with the same long blonde hair.
“Is that…?” he asked.
“My mother,” she said, nodding, her voice a whisper. “She survived?”
OA stood again, still holding the photo, and took up the one next to it. In that one, she was with her father, but she was a child in the photo with him. That probably meant she’d lost him in this life, too, Homer reasoned.
She turned around to survey the room. “I wonder how long we’ve lived here. And how we met.”
Homer glanced back over at the wedding photo. The hoodie photo. The versions of themselves they’d abruptly replaced.
“They seem so happy,” he said, feeling a little bad about having interrupted their lives. “We should … probably let them out.”
OA turned to him, seemingly considering his words. She took his hand again, a near-smile playing on her lips.
“I think we should make some memories of our own first.”
He squeezed her hand in his. She was right, of course. They were finally together, after waiting so long, after finding and losing each other over and over—wait, did she mean?
She kissed him again and ran her hand up his chest. He forgot everything else he’d been thinking about.
***
OA found their bedroom just as charming as all she’d seen of the house so far. It was surreal to think they lived here together as husband and wife. Just the thought of it made her feel weightless. The bed was big and plush, with a fluffy comforter in lemon yellow, and they fell into it together like it was the most natural thing. Like they hadn’t fought through several lifetimes to get here.
Her desire bloomed anew and tenfold to feel his skin against hers, to run her hands and her lips across his body. All at once she was overwhelmed by it and paused to just look at him. Homer held her gaze and smiled, the same way he always did. The way that said a million things and one thing.
She sat up, still looking at him, and he followed her lead. Leaning into him, she pressed her lips to his chest over his heart and then turned her head and pressed her ear to the same spot. She smiled as she listened, drinking in the sound of him. Homer ran his fingers through her hair, and for this single beautiful moment she felt and heard only him.
When she straightened up again, she kissed him, thinking he must be ready to get on with this. But then he leaned into her, repeating her gesture, planting his own ear against her chest. She held his head, carding her hands through his soft brown hair and stroking his neck.
Rather than sitting up again, he moved to trail kisses across her shoulder, and they were swiftly nested in the soft sheets. OA had acquired memories of making love, as other versions of herself, but that didn’t erase the fact that she had never done so in present tense. Nor did it, in any way, prepare her for what it meant to do so with her Homer.
Her eyes were shut for a while, as she felt him and felt her body respond to his, waves of bright bliss pulsing through her. When she looked at him again, something was different. His face looked hazy or ... illuminated?
Homer looked at her and laughed.
“OA,” he breathed, “you’re glowing.”
“Oh,” she said, lifting up her arm and seeing that, indeed, she was emitting an ethereal white light.
She laughed too, and kissed him once more as he rocked his hips into hers.
Her glow subsided as they lied together afterward in the peaceful stillness of the bedroom, taking turns running their fingertips across each other’s backs. OA turned to him after some time and touched his cheek, marveling just at being so close and wholly alone. Finally.
An idea occurred to her that she couldn’t resist. She grasped the thin, white bed sheet below the comforter and yanked it upward.
“Come underneath with me,” she said.
He did without hesitation, mirroring her action and pulling the sheet up and over his own head. With the sheet draped over them, she smiled at him and saw him smile back through the shadows.
“I used to imagine this,” she said.
“Me, too.”
“After I lost you. After … Hap threw me out, I was back in my old room for a while. My old house. I would lay in bed under the covers like this and talk to you like you were still right there with me. I hoped you knew I wouldn’t have left you behind willingly.”
Homer turned his gaze down before he spoke.
“He told me I’d never see you again,” came his soft reply. “He wouldn’t say what he’d done to you, but I was so afraid it was true … I got sick, I was out of it. And when he made us all jump without you, all I could think was that I didn’t want to be leaving you. I didn’t want to be going without you.”
All at once, something clicked in OA’s mind and she propped herself up on her elbow, letting the sheet fall away.
“That’s why you were suppressed there,” she said. “In Dr. Roberts. You were a passive traveler.”
Homer nodded again. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess that’s why.”
OA looked at him for a moment, just at his sweet face and his new freckles and his chest hair. She scooted closer to him, then, and gathered him into her arms. They held each other tightly for a long time there in their shared bed.
***
Feeling a little groggy and hungry in the afterglow of their intimacy, Homer eventually put on pants and set out to mine the kitchen for food. OA was behind him, admiring her wedding ring, which she’d found in a little dish on the nightstand.
He started by opening the fridge and did a double-take. He hadn’t had any real expectations, but finding it crammed full of fresh produce was still a surprise. Turning to look over at the counters, he realized there was even more: Clusters of squash and carrots and tomatoes that didn’t need to be chilled.
“Oh my god,” he said, a realization dawning.
OA looked up just as he dashed by her for the back door. He threw it open and burst outside onto their back patio, stomping over to the railing and inspecting the yard behind their cabin. He laughed out loud when he saw that he was right: They had a vegetable garden.
Her arms found their way around his waist, and he turned to her to share his discovery only to see that she already fully understood.
“What are the chances?” he said.
“It’s an echo. Don’t you see? This dimension is an echo of our lives. Our paths crossed, just in a different way. With a different outcome. They’re still us.”
That made sense. Somehow, seeing the garden had made it all starkly real for him. He thought about that other version of himself, happily plotting out the different patches for vegetables and enjoying the sunlight while he’d been stuck underground. He tried to push away the pang of envy that followed.
Back inside, Homer insisted on making salads for both of them, rinsing and tearing the lush, green lettuce and adding in a rainbow of other ingredients, stunned to think that their “echo” selves had grown it all. Topping it off with some bright slices of squash, he carried the bowls to the table and found OA beaming proudly. His salad-making skills were maybe a bit rusty, but the fresh plants were all crunchy and fresh and delicious.
It felt a little surreal to be sitting across from OA, to see her so happy. In fact, a lot of this dimension felt like a dream so far. What were their jobs? What state were they in?
“What is it?” she asked.
Looking into her kind eyes, he decided all those questions could wait.
“You know,” he started, fighting a smirk, “I couldn’t help but notice that we also live by a lake.”
“Uh-huh?”
“And it’s definitely warm enough for swimming.”
She beamed again. “It is!”
They left their empty salad bowls in the sink and managed to find some bathing suits tucked into the bottom drawer of their bedroom dresser.
Homer pulled on his swim trunks, striped with navy and gold and white, and found that the drawstring was worn from use. OA had taken hers to the bathroom to change, and she emerged in a pastel yellow one piece. The pale material hugged her form, standing in an attractive contrast against her lightly tanned skin, and he idly considered abandoning the swimming idea altogether and just whisking her into bed again.
“Wow,” he said instead.
“You, too,” she said charitably. “Ready?"
They headed down the path from their cabin toward the lake pier, OA’s long hair whipping against her shoulders in the gusting wind. Homer took her hand, linking his fingers through hers, and she smiled at him.
He wished he could promise her that she’d always be this happy. That nothing would ever tear them apart again. That he’d protect her. But he couldn’t promise any of that. He couldn’t promise her anything other than himself.
OA turned to him, a silent question on her face, and he realized he’d tightened his grasp on her hand. As though she could hear him thinking, she pulled him into an embrace. He nuzzled her shoulder, pressing his nose into the fabric of her swimsuit strap. There was an especially strong gust of wind, then, rustling the trees that surrounded the lake. She pulled back and touched his face, and he knew he didn’t need to say anything.
When they walked out onto the little wooden pier with its sun-bleached planks, OA stopped, face upturned, seemingly scanning the sky and the trees. She closed her eyes and just stood for a moment, listening, and Homer closed his eyes, too. He suspected—knew—that she heard or sensed something he couldn’t. But it was beautiful all the same.
The water was a cool shock to his skin when they leapt in, and he surfaced laughing. It had been a long fucking time since he’d swam. She laughed beside him, wet hair slicked back like a mermaid, and, damn it, how did she seem even more radiant every time he looked at her?
As they swam together, he let his mind go blank and enjoy feeling the water around him, enjoy knowing she was next to him. He found that he didn’t much care for his head being underwater and stuck with surface swimming, which came to this body with ease. After some time, he lost himself to thoughts of his other self, again, wondering about all the times he’d swam with his wife. In their pretty lake by their perfect little cabin. Yeah, he was jealous, he guessed. But how could he not be? This Homer had everything. Swimming here would be an average day for him. Had he taken moments like this for granted? Had he known how lucky he was to be with her? To know her? To wake up next to her? Had he taken her for granted? That thought didn’t feel far-fetched. And he resented the other him for it.
OA splashed him, ending his weird daydream.
“Hey!” she said, coming over to where he was sitting on the bank and pulling herself up to sit next to him. “Where do you keep going?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s just a lot. This life. It seems too perfect, almost.”
She looked thoughtful, water dripping off her nose. “I’m sure it’s not all perfect. But whatever struggles they had, the most important part is that they ended up right here. Together. And so did we.”
He smiled. “Did you always know we’d get here?”
“No,” she said earnestly. “But I believed.”
As the sun was setting, they raced back to the cabin and all but tumbled inside, dropping to the floor and kissing and laughing and dripping everywhere. Homer peeled off OA’s swimsuit and tasted the lake on her skin, moving from her shoulder to her breast to her stomach to her hip and down farther still. When her breath hitched, he paused and looked at her, and she smiled at him the same way she’d been smiling all day. Only, this time, there was the subtle hint of a glow rising in her cheeks.
It hit him in an instant how wrong he’d been earlier when he thought he was pissed at his other self. No, it was him who was the idiot. Him who needed a wakeup call. What a fool he’d been to think that any single version of him could ever possibly love her enough.
***
After they made love on the floor, OA and Homer collected their wet swimsuits and headed to the shower. As the water warmed her skin and she pressed her forehead to his under the stream, OA relished in the feeling that she could repeat this day over and over until the end of her life and never tire of it.
And then, for the first time ever, they climbed into the same bed to fall asleep holding each other.
“Can I ask you something?” he said after they’d settled in under the covers.
Was he serious? “Of course you can.”
He looked oddly hesitant. “The glowing thing. What is it? Why … is it?”
She smiled and turned her gaze up to the bedroom ceiling. “I don’t think it’s something I could ever understand with my brain. But …”
Gathering her words, she shifted to her side to face him.
“In here,” she said, palm to her chest, “I just know. It’s like a question I’ve been asking for so long is finally answered. It’s serenity. It’s … wholeness.”
Instead of responding, he moved a lock of hair away from her face. When she met his eyes again, she realized he looked almost worried.
“I hope I can always give you that.”
She held his gaze for a moment, abruptly understanding that he felt a great weight on his shoulders.
“Homer,” she said, taking his hand. “It’s not a measurement or a goal or a test. It’s just me and you. I love you. I need you. As long as you’re here with me, as long as you love me, you are giving me everything in the universe. So, I glow.”
He relaxed, then, smiling with her, and he leaned in and kissed her long and deep.
“You’re giving me everything, too. More than I’ve ever deserved. I love you, OA.”
She touched his cheek, and the two of them drifted to sleep in each other’s arms.