The Journal of the Time-Lost Joshua Donovan

He'd settled into what was almost a routine. Get up, do paperwork, do bills if they were needed, and then have an afternoon for Science. All of his current linear experiments were turning up nothing, so he decided to get a random Artifact from a shelf. Putting random letters and numbers into the computer elicited a small hand mirror in Raleigh Sector. He dutifully went and got it, returning to start his research.

At first, nothing was out of the ordinary, but before Joshua could even think, as he turned the mirror, a huge bright flash pushed him to the ground, knocking him out.

The shiny gold nonsense, not that gold nonsense, something else entirely, swirls around him as he lies on the floor, and scenes start appearing in the mist.

I'm pregnant, Joshua. ... How the fuck did that happen? ... Your father and I had sex, you dipshit.

Joshua? What are you. ... Oh, fuck. Claudia, don't be scared of me! Please! ... Your curtains are on fire. ... DAD WHERE IS THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER?

Why do you have to go so far away? I'll be lonely. ... I'm not that far, and you have Mom and Dad. ... But I want you! You're my brother.

They're not coming back, are they? ... No, Claudia. ... But Mom and Dad! They can't be gone! ... I know the feeling, baby sister.

Why are we going to court? ... They're finally agreeing to let me have you. ... But I was always going to be with you! It's always the two of us! ... It is now.

Artie! Make him stop! ... Claudia, remember that I will always... No!

You abandoned him once, why shouldn't you do it again ... It isn't like that. ... Oh, no. It's exactly like that. Me and Joshua on our own again. Good thing I'm used to it.

And then everything changed and the scenes changed, more chaotic, more blurry, not linear. Two small children, a second gravestone, incoherent flashes of people, Claudia huddled on a park bench, Claudia in a hospital, Helena with a trident, Helena huddled somewhere alone, then walking through a chair, explosions, Claudia screaming bloody murder, Artie with some sort of navagational object, Myka in a doctor's office, and finally, a man in some strange clothing facing Claudia down an aisle of the warehouse and a name. Claire.

And as quickly as it came, in a flash, it went away, and everything settled as he slowly started to wake up.

When he finally came to his senses, lying on the floor of his lab, he shouted at the walls around him. "Who the fuck is Claire Donovan?" The only response he recieves is a faint skittering of faiance wings.

It had been a long few weeks for Joshua. He had been ignoring all of the paperwork that he should have been doing, in favour of just doing research, but this morning, he realized that he needed to get back to his responsibilities and finish the backlog of paperwork. Turning he music up, he settled into a rhythm of getting things taken care of.

About an hour later, something jolted him out of his thoughts. A song came on his player, something that he wasn't sure if he'd put on or if he'd bumped the player into radio mode.

I remember tears streaming down your face
When I said, "I'll never let you go"
When all those shadows almost killed your light
I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone"
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight.

He stared at his computer screen for a couple minutes, then replayed the song about four times.

More than a few minutes went by, as he just stared into space, a million things going through his head. Ignoring the rest of the paperwork, he spun his chair over to his laptop and started to write:

To: claudiopolis@gmail.com
From: shinyteleportation@gmail.com

Subject: Things

Claudia,

I don't know why all of a sudden I've been thinking about things, but I've been thinking about the past.

I know I've said this a million times, but I'm sorry. I made you a promise, and I broke it, perhaps for good reasons, perhaps for selfish ones, but I still broke it.

However, even through my crappy broken promise, you've become an amazing and wonderful young lady, one that I'm really damn proud of. I am sorry that I wasn't there to help you along the way, but I think you found the way pretty damn well. I think I'm finally learning to stop being an ass and just let it go. You've moved on, I need to.

I know I say it a lot, but I love you, baby sister. (yes, you'll always be my baby sister no matter how old you get) Let's get dinner and ice cream later. We haven't had a sibling time in a couple weeks. Let me know.

<3,
Joshua

It's one of those days, where everything in the Warehouse is going pretty well.

People are around, doing inventory, prepping reports, and above everything, there's a cheerful static ball or two zipping down the aisles.

Joshua's in his lab, fussing with this and that, not really making any progress, but amusing himself in the process.

Joshua has taken over the table in the sunroom with a notebook and his laptop. On his laptop are a couple tabs' worth of recipe sites. Looks like he's trying to nail down a Thanksgiving dinner.

It wasn’t something that Joshua dreamed about much, but suddenly being in the apartment his parents had before Claudia arrived wasn’t too far off the map.

Smelling a very familiar scent, Joshua wandered into the kitchen to find his father at the table smoking a joint.

“You sure you don’t want one? I have extra.”

Joshua rolled his eyes and walked over to the table. “If it was something other than a dream joint, then perhaps I would, but it would probably just frustrate me more.” He paused. “Hi Dad.”

“Hey, you.” Before Joshua could sit down, Peter got up and pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry I fucked up.”

Joshua hugged his father back, clinging a bit. “I should have been there. It was my own damn procrastination that kept me in Lincoln that weekend. I should have been there, and then I could have helped, or reminded you, or something.”

Peter sighed. “Oh, stop blaming yourself, you dumbshit. We were on a date, and you stopped wanting to tag along on those when you were five. And it’s not like either of us had a phone handy - and even if we did, I wouldn’t have thought being tired was worth bugging you. If you’d been there, I might have plowed the damn car into a tree anyway. It’s not your fucking fault. This one’s all on me.”

“Yeah, well. I...” He shook his head, and plunked down on one of the chairs. “I still feel like I should have been there, should have done something to help.”

“And that is because you never did deal with anything unless you were high.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Get on that, kid, seriously. Besides, you did what you needed to. You took care of Claud. Couldn’t ask for more than that.”

“Yeah, well. You tell me how to get some fucking pot in buttfuck South Dakota. I remember you had it bad in Sioux Falls sometimes.” Joshua sighed. “And, I did to a point. And then I fucked up again and left her.”

“You didn’t fuck up, you had an accident. There’s a difference.” Peter pulled the ashtray closer and stubbed out his joint. “As for the pot, let your girlfriend do the driving, keep an eye on the landscape until you spot some, buy some seeds from the owner and grow your own. Problem solved. You have a fucking satellite interference machine, don’t you? Not to mention there’s enough badges around that damn place to deal with anyone who came prying.”

“Damnit, Dad, why do you have to be so logical when it comes to pot?” He leaned back in his chair. “Maybe I will. Besides, I could always say that it’s just a plant-based Artifact that I’m fucking around with. Honestly, the only person who’d care would be Artie, and he can shove it.” He pauses. “And… I knew what I was getting myself into. It wasn’t just an accident. I knew I might be leaving Claudia behind, and I didn’t care.”

“Yes, you did. You wouldn’t be beating yourself up over it fifteen years later if you didn’t care.”

“That’s not the point, Dad. I care now, I cared before. I just… in that moment, I didn’t.”

“The Donovans, way too fucking hard on ourselves since 1954.” Peter rolled his eyes. “You cared even then, and I bet some part of you knew Claud would be fine. She’s resilient. So are you. And it all worked out in the end. Get yourself stoned and let it the fuck go, kid.”

“You do realize, Dad, that most parents would be telling me the exact opposite.” He shook his head, laughing a bit to himself. “Donovans, doing what people least expect since… who the fuck knows when.”

“And since when were Claire and I most parents? You won’t relax enough to get anything really useful done if you don’t. Let go of all the baggage that’s weighing you down and trust your instincts. You got this.”

“If it was anyone other than you, Dad, I think I’d tell them off for shit advice.” Joshua shook his head. “It’s just with you and Mom somehow it all worked out. How the hell’d you pull that off?”

“Hard work and dumb luck. Me knowing how to balance a budget and her being smarter than me. You guys completely outclassed me.” Peter smiled. “I’m proud of you, though. You and Claud. You both turned out great.”

“You’re pretty damn smart yourself, Dad. Don’t try to say you aren’t. You kept up with Mom and Claudia and I pretty damn well.” Joshua shrugged. “Besides, finance isn’t easy.”

“Never said I wasn’t, but you guys had me beat by miles. I’m just glad you and Claud found a good use for your talents. You two are good for that place, and it’s good for you.”

“Well, I know it’s good for Claud, at any rate.” Joshua shrugged. “I’m still not completely certain that I won’t fuck it up, though.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “As I recall, the debate team problems came from the people who gave a shit not having the time and the people who had the time not giving a shit, and you still took that clusterfuck and won nationals. You’re a leader, Joshua, whether you like it or not. And you’re not going to fuck it up any more than Claud will.”

He made a grumpy face, shaking his head. “Damn it, Dad, why can’t you be as illogical as people think you are? It’s awkward sometimes.”

“Because I don’t believe in lying to my kids. You’d figure it out sooner or later. Your heart’s already there, we just need to get your head in the game. That’ll come with time, though.”

“We’ll see.” Joshua paused, and poked at the joint in the ash tray. “I miss you, Dad. I don’t think I realized how much until lately.”

Peter sighed. “I miss you too, kid.” He reached across the table and ruffled Joshua’s hair. “But we’re still with you, and you damn well know it.”

“Heeeeeeeey.” Joshua made a face and fussed with his hair. “You know how terrible my hair gets when you do that.” He smiled, though, and took a deep breath. “I know you’re with me. Even more when I see Mom in Claudia.”

“And you’re too much like me for your own good.” Peter smiled. “But you’ll be fine. Trust yourself, Joshua. You got this.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

A few days ago, Joshua's boss had rung him up and told him that one of his fellow Regents had died in a boating accident, and everyone was going to New Hampshire for the funeral. Halfway there on the plane, Artie (seated beside him because he refused to upgrade to first class, and Joshua was the one who bought the tickets) started chattering about the case he had sent Claudia on, and his intention of going to check up on her after the funeral.

"Bad idea, Artie." Joshua shook his head. "She doesn't take that shit well."

"Oh, she'll be fine. I just want to see how she's doing."

"Bad idea theater. Honestly."

With another shake of his head, Joshua fell silent again and the rest of the flight was uneventful. At the airport, they met up with his boss and Jane. Artie wandered off to rent a car mumbling something about driving to Boston. After even more admonitions about how bad of an idea driving in Boston would be, the Regent trio shook their heads and drove off to the service.

Joshua was quiet during the entire thing, which seemed so out of place, all of the loud and emotional prayers, all of the gospel singing, and the tributes to the dead woman that made Jane roll her eyes and mutter things under her breath that Joshua never really caught.

Eventually, the service was over, and they proceeded to the cemetery. Everything was fine until the minister started talking about ashes and dust, and something caught in Joshua's throat. Closing his eyes, he quietly backed up and walked away from the group at the grave.

A moment to himself would be enough. He just needed a moment. Really.

Even though Agent Donovan and Agent Lattimer were hoping for a fairly simple swap of the Artifact for a replica, I have to admit that I was hoping for something much more colorful which did end up happening.

When we got to the museum, we found that we weren't the first ones there. One of the museum's employees, in order to impress someone, played the guitar, which set off its electrical properties. Someone had already called various agencies, so the area was crawling with law enforcement. Agent Donovan and I went in, but I had Agent Lattimer catch the eye of one of the ATF agents (now Warehouse Agent Jinks) and draw him inside.

Agent Donovan used her new Tesla Grenade on the bomb squad to much benefit, and Agent Lattimer used the Equitable Life Building Fire Nozzle to put out a secondary fire that threatened a civilian.

Agent Jinks appeared, questioned Agent Donovan and I, and proved to be quite excellent in the face of all of our typical weird. After calling Agent Donovan on a cover story, he allowed us to make the swap.

At the end, the civilian was saved, the guitar is securely swapped, and Agent Jinks is a great asset to the Warehouse.

Joshua pulled into Featherhead about an hour later than expected, running up the stairs, and into a room occupied by two other people.

"Sorry I'm late, guys. Got out of Minneapolis late, and everything spiralled from there."

Unlike many of the pings that we find, this pot was discovered because I was watching a cooking show on the internet. I noticed that one of the cooks was not following proper cooking procedures, however, the judges were enjoying his food anyway. As I know more about cooking than Agent Wells (the only agent available other than Agent Donovan) I went along with her to see what was going on.

Agent Donovan and I went to a taping of the show, ascertained that the pot was in fact an Artifact (using a ball I have aquired that reacts when Artifacts are in the room), and snagged it by taking the pot when no one was looking.

Yes, it really was that simple and uninteresting. Too bad everything's not like this.

Joshua has not been doing science today. What has has been doing is making a pile of notes about things that he's observed in the Warehouse in the past couple weeks. He's come to the conclusion that there are a few holes in the way things are being run. However, instead of fighting Artie about it, he decides to take matters into his own hands.

Thus, he picks up his Farnsworth and buzzes his sister.