He shouldn't.

He really, really should not be here. It was against the rules. He was cheating. But did he care? He wasn't exactly in a state to decide if he cared. He hadn't eaten in days. He hadn't slept in nights. None of that mattered now because he had figured it out... for now.

He knew the familiar stone corridors. He could walk them with his eyes closed he was sure. Every narrow lane leading to separate, although connected, destinations. Was it a sign? A coincidence? He pushed it out of his mind in an attempt to make way for more important matters.

The big wooden doors looked cold and uninviting so he passed them without second thoughts. He knew where he was headed and hoped he wasn't too late. He couldn't be too late.

Pushing his way through a group in their early twenties, he mumbled some apologies that fell upon deaf ears. It had to work, it had to.

The grass is yellow, that horrible shade it turns when it's dying. He doesn't look at it. He walks on the stone instead.

He hasn't been here in years and yet it still looks the same. It must have looked the same for decades. He never did visit the department as much as he had liked in the past but... no, he can't think about that now. He can't think about that ever again. He's feeling guilty and maybe a little hopeful as he ascends the stairs.

He glances at the timetable hanging on the door, March 1992. One small triumph. He hadn't checked the date until now because uncertainty was the only thing that kept him going.

The tiny window on the door revealed an almost empty lecture hall. He saw a silhouette cast down the aisle of stairs. Pushing the heavy wooden door open will have unknown consequences but he doesn't care right now... he doesn't care at all anymore.

It's her. Thank God, it really is her. And she's alive. So alive it's astounding.

"May I help you?"

Her voice isn't laced with fear. It's everything he wished she sounded like before... before it happened. His heart wants to break.

"Actually I was looking for... you."

She raises an eyebrow and somehow it's like he's really here... like she's really here. It has to work, it has to work.

"I don't reckon I know you, do I?"

Her hair's tied back in an elastic but it's just as red, perhaps even redder. My God, she's alive. She's so alive and in colour and he wants to make it stay that way forever.

"Unfortunately Charlotte, you will. You'll..."

He didn't know how to say this. He never thought to go over what he'd say to her. How do you warn the woman you love that if she does the one thing she wants to do the most in this world she'll die?

She looked at him with a curious smile. He sighed with a heavy and knowing heart.

"You'll meet me if you look for the place you were born. I know it's... it's complicated. You can't go back there, it's not... you just can't."

Her eyes went wide and she almost dropped the books she was carrying.

"Who are you and how do you know about that? How do you know about that place?"

Her voice went low and she looked rather scared. He never intended to scare her but he did, just like when she was a child. Why didn't he remember?

"My name," he said, for what sounded like the millionth time, "is Daniel Faraday."

She stared at him as if expecting to suddenly tie the name to a face but didn't succeed.

"You meet me on an expedition. I'm a physicist and you're an anthropologist. We're part of a scientific team recruited by a man named Charles Whidmore sent to explore...well, like I said, the place where you were born."

She looked at him, dumfounded. Perhaps a little skeptically as well. That's okay, he expected that. If someone took him seriously from the get go that would mean they were in fact crazy as well.

"You're trying to tell me you're from the future or something Mr. Faraday? Maybe you should check with that loon down in the physics department here, I don't know what his name is but he's full of those crazy ideas and..."

"That's me, Charlotte. I'm... wow, I cannot explain this to you... to anyone, really. I went here, to Oxford. I taught here for awhile too until... nevermind, nevermind that's not important. This place where you're trying to go? It's not like... it's not like it is here. It's unique. Time and space don't really follow our rules... it's..."

She looked at him and laughed. He knew he shouldn't be, but he was hurt by it.

"Oh, okay. I get it. I knew I shouldn't have told anyone about the crazy island that doesn't exist. There I go again, opening my big mouth. Who put you up to this? Come on then. Was it Jules? She'd consider this a riot, that one. Or what about Lyle? Yeah, he's had it in for me since day one. Look, whoever you are, nice try but I know I'm not crazy. Stop wasting your time."

She pushed her way past him and made her way towards the door. How could he explain to her that it was she who was wasting her own time? He hated himself so much right now but if he didn't say it then there was no hope of changing it. Ever.

"Charlotte if you walk through that door and continue doing whatever it is you're going to be doing for the next 12 years, you're going to die. You're going to die on that same island you were born on. I saw it and... and I promised you that I'd fix it. So here I am, trying to fix it."

She stopped and turned around, looking at him a little more seriously this time.

"You're not supposed to go back. Please, don't get on that boat and don't go looking for something that doesn't want to be found."

She glanced down at the ground. He wished he could hear the trillions of thoughts undoubtedly swirling around in her head.

"This island," she said quietly, "are you sure it's the one I'm looking for? Are you sure it's me you're looking for?"

He nodded slowly. "You said so yourself. You told me all about it."

She laughed softly. "I can't believe I told a bloody stranger all this nonsense about my childhood. You must think I'm crazy."

He smiled and looked over at her, meeting her eyes. "No, not at all. No one's crazier than me."

She nodded slowly and took a few steps forward.

"I can't say I believe you entirely. You don't make a whole lot of sense, do you?"

He frowned. "It's complicated, I understand that but..."

"I can't make you any promises."

He looked at her with a pained expression. Promises? But... it wasn't for his benefit, it was for hers. Or was it?

"What? Charlotte, if you go there you're going to die. I was there. I saw it and I can't.... I need to know that it won't happen...again."

She sighed and readjusted the books she held under her left arm. Impatient then like she always was.

"Finding that place is something I just have to do. I don't expect you to understand... it's just... look, thanks for letting me know I make it there."

"But... you can't!" He had to make her understand.

She glared at him fiercely. "I appreciate your concern Daniel Faraday but I think I can make my own decisions. If what you're saying is true then I guess I'll see you in 12 years then, yeah?"

He looked at her pleadingly. No, it couldn't end this way. He had the power to rewrite the future. He could erase it all.

"Charlotte, don't..."

"Goodbye, Dan."

She turned on her heel and pushed through the door, ripping a new hole in his heart and the very fabric of time itself.

Science had failed this time. The calculations and formulas were correct but not even he could predict the outcome. It was foolish to think that he could change the rigid rules he had so clearly pointed out beforehand.

What hurt more than anything, however, was knowing that she stood so alive before him in this moment and there was nothing he could do to keep her like that in the future. No science was capable of altering our intentions and he knew it.

No matter how hard he tried, she would never be the exception to his rule.