Title: The Future Won't Wait
By: Bridget McKennitt
Character: Demetri, minor Demetri/Demetri
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 610
Summary: Demetri doesn't know how it happened, but he swears it must be a dream.
Contains: No warnings in as far I know that can't be extrapolated from the header itself. Spoilers for up to 1.02. Minor autoerotica (of sorts).
Disclaimer: FlashForward is owned by other companies. They are used here without permission, and for entertainment purposes only. No challenge or infringement upon the copyright is intended, nor should any be inferred.
Demetri knew working late on the case was going to get to him sooner or later. Janis had told him to go home earlier, but he felt compelled to continue working. He was so close to finding out more about his murder, and in turn, finding out how to prevent it. But he'd never suspected all those extra hours at the office would cause him to start hallucinating.
"You're not hallucinating," said the hallucination.
Demetri scoffed as he gave the look-alike, his look-alike, a wide berth. The other Demetri, if he could call him as such, wore a fitted suit with his hair slicked back and shiny black shoes. Demetri didn't wear something that ridiculously expensive, and he wouldn't even if he had the means. He jabbed a finger towards him. "Oh, I am. I must be because there is no way that you're real. I must be dreaming."
His look-alike tilted his head to the side and smiled at him. It stopped Demetri short. It was just this short of cruel, something that Demetri had never been. "What makes you think this isn't your vision of the future?" he asked softly.
"For one thing, seeing into the future happened only once, when everyone blacked out for two minutes and seventeen seconds. And another, I didn't see a vision. I die in March. I know I do."
The look-alike laughed and pushed himself away from the desk he sat on. "Oh, Demetri. I was so foolish a couple of months ago. You know, after I received that phone call about my murder on the ides of March, I did everything in my power to prevent it." He shook his head. "Didn't help when I did all the wrong things."
"Shut up." Demetri turned away, not wanting to see the smug arrogance on his whatever's face. "I don't believe you."
"Why not? I'm your future self. Well, not quite. Let's just call me your better half."
Familiar hands fell on his shoulders and down his chest, enclosing him in a mockery of a hug. "You have a lot of decisions coming up in the next couple of weeks. Big decisions. I want to make sure you do the right thing, to not make the same mistakes that I did."
Warm lips trailed a path along the back of his neck and Demetri struggled to get free, only for the look-alike's arms to hold him tighter in the embrace. "Shh. Someone from Denver is going to visit you soon, someone you don't know at present. Whatever he asks of you, say yes."
Demetri swallowed then unclenched his jaw before speaking. "Will that save my life?"
The look-alike laughed before nipping at Demetri's neck. "Perhaps. Would I steer you wrong? Remember what I said, Demetri. Say yes. We'll both be thankful you did."
Demetri jolted up in his chair and scanned the darkened office for signs of intruders before he could relax. Had it really been a dream? Or something more dire? Demetri gathered up the scattered papers on his desk into one stack before something on the top piece of paper caught his eye. Denver, Colorado. Just where his look-alike mentioned where the stranger came from.
He rubbed his face with his hand and grabbed a notepad before writing down the clue. While it's entirely possibly it was a hallucination or a dream, and it had to have been, when it came to preventing his murder, Demetri wasn't going to take any chances.
He stared at the note and shivered. Whoever that other Demetri was, with his hands and mouth and expensive clothes, he prayed he would never become so cold hearted.
