Fic: Time Lines

[csi_sanders1129]

Title: Time Lines
Chapters: 1/1
Author: csi_sanders1129
Genre: Angst. Drama.
Ratings: T
Word Count: 4,475
Pairings/Characters: Tommy Dawkins/Merton Dingle, OC’s.
Synopsis: Tommy always wondered about the past, but he hadn’t really thought about the impact his past would play on his future.
Comments: Written in response to cottoncandy_bingo prompt: ordinary day in the life. References to 3x02 (Commie Dawkins) and to 3x13 (Baby On Board). Characters not mine, please enjoy! Comments are awesome.

A few years ago, Tommy Dawkins wondered what his life would have been life if he hadn't become a werewolf. He'd obviously concluded that if his life had been different, he never would have started hanging out with his best friend, Merton Dingle, and that was probably true.

He'd always wondered about the past, about the things he could no longer change – about not being the wolf and having a normal senior year and being able to go on a date with a girl that wouldn't wolf him out – but he hadn't really thought about the impact his past would play on his future.

At least not until they found another wormhole.

It's November of 2002, a few months into their junior year at State and they're home in Pleasantville for the Thanksgiving Break. As usual, they've been busy fighting vampires and warlocks and zombies and everything else the supernatural world can possibly ever think to throw at them, but things have been pretty peaceful for the last few days.

The day after Thanksgiving, they head to the park to investigate some strange activity Tommy had noticed when he'd gone running early in the morning.

"Isn't this around where we found the wormhole?" Tommy asks, as they approach the area he'd spotted the weird, flickering silver lights in. "You know, Mr. Talk-to-the-hand and Comrade Boris or whatever?"

"Yeah," Merton nods in agreement as they look around for the mysterious lights. "Looks like there's nothing here now, anyway."

Tommy leans back against a tree while Merton closely examines some broken plant-life nearby. "What do you think it was?"

The older boy shrugs. "Hard to say, really, without seeing it myself. It could have been some sort of reaction to the old wormhole I suppose or else maybe – Tommy?" He stops talking when he realizes he's alone. Tommy has disappeared. "Tommy!"

"Here, Mert!" The werewolf calls back to him, head appearing from a sparkling silver dent in the space-time continuum just in front of the tree he'd previously been leaning on. "Found it!"

"Maybe we shouldn't-" He starts to protest. After all, things had not gone exceedingly well last time they'd tried such exploring. Tommy is not having it, though, and he reaches through and pulls Merton after him. He falls on top of Tommy in the new? old? Pleasantville. They're still in the park, like last time and part of him wonders if they've fallen into 1989 again.

"Looks the same," Tommy concludes. "Worm holes don't seem very varied, do they?"

Merton laughs. "Well, I guess you can lodge a complaint with the officers of Time and Space. Let me know if you see any blue police boxes, maybe we can get a ride back to the present with the Doctor."

"I watch way too much TV with you."

"Yeah, yeah," Merton grumbles, getting to his feet and then offering Tommy a hand. "Come on, let's go check things out."

Their first stop is, predictably, the lair.

On the way there, they pass gaggles of unfamiliar faces almost all of whom have their heads buried in some electronic device or the other. "Cell phones have come a long way, apparently," Merton comments, though they only figure out what the high-tech devices are when one starts ringing as they walk by. "And CDs have sure gotten smaller, too."

There's a newly built Pleasantville High School in place of the one they'd attended, shops on Main Street have changed, some buildings are missing altogether, new ones have appeared. Merton grabs up a newspaper from one of the stores they pass on the walk back and he finds it contains very little that would have actually qualified as news in 2002. It's dated November 29, 2012, and Merton doesn't last long before he's commenting. "What is a Snooki and should we be hunting it?" He skims further along, "Mayan Apocalypse? Really?" A lot has changed in ten years.

"Did you pick up the National Enquirer?"

"I wish." Merton huffs, putting the paper back. "Let's get to the lair already."

But the lair is not the lair. At least not unless a barrage of cardboard boxes and old furniture now represent the lair. The basement has been turned back into a storage area, like it had been before Merton had claimed it as his sanctuary.

"We probably should have expected this. It is the future," Tommy comments, nosing through the contents of one of the closest boxes. A Pleasantville High yearbook is amongst its contents, but for three years after their graduation year. Becky's then. "Looks like your sister went to college in California. Oh, and Tim and Travis finally graduated. Who would've thought?"

Merton hovers at his shoulder as he flips through it and they dig through a few other boxes, but the sound of footsteps overheard startles them into making a quick exit so as not to have to explain why they look several years younger than they should.

"We can check out your house?" Merton suggests, once they're back outside.

"Later, maybe," Tommy argues. "Let's find us. We can talk to us, right? Because they'll know we're coming? And so we won't mess things up?"

Merton frowns, "Well, I suppose we can't mess their lives up. But we can mess our lives up. If we know things we maybe aren't supposed to know yet? But then I suppose we're already ahead of the curve since we're in the future. So, yeah. Let's do that."

"Where would we be?"

"It's 2012, so not at State, at least. Do you think we would've come home after graduation?"

"Probably. At least I think I would've - there are only so many places the wolf can cope with." Tommy explains, though Merton is well aware of that already. "Maybe you went back to Heidelberg?"

"Back to crazy Flugehoff? Not a chance. I'd say we could check the Factory, but I would sincerely hope that the more mature versions of us would a) not be hanging around gaggles of teenagers and b) be enjoying an actual bar."

Tommy nods. "Fair point."

"Don't worry," a familiarly unfamiliar voice calls to them, a few feet down the sidewalk. "I assure you, we've long since outgrown the Factory. Though strangely they did hold our ten-year high school reunion there." They both spin to find an older version of Merton approaching them. "It's about time I found you. Don't need you two wandering into anyone who'd recognize you because I certainly don't want to have explain our way out of that sort of mess."

"You're-" Merton starts, taking in his older-self's change in clothing. Not a trace of anything gothic or black on him, but for his hair, which is still dyed and spiked in his usual fashion. The light blue jeans are weird in and off themselves, but coupled with the converse sneakers and fitted red v-neck t-shirt visible under his grey jacket, he looks totally normal. "Why do I feel like you'd have no interest in the Gothic Fantasy Guild?" He pouts, wondering how he started dressing like this.

Older Merton laughs, claps him lightly on the back. "I still have all the stuff from the lair, relax. There's a whole room in my house for it." He gestures to his clothes. "Just need a break from black sometimes."

Merton's still frowning at the colors, but Tommy breaks into the conversation. "So you're allowed to talk to us?"

"Yeah, we actually need to. So that you two don't freak out and mess up the time-line. But we'll cover that back at the house. Tommy's there now." He leads them down the street a ways to a sizeable black SUV.

"Aw," Merton sulks again. "No more hearse?"

"No. That got destroyed by a couple of seriously pissed off pagan gods in 2005," Older Merton answers, cringing slightly as he recalls this event, "and getting a new hearse wasn't particularly practical afterwards." Tommy claims the front seat and Merton the seat behind him, and then they're on their way. The drive is relatively quiet, as Older Merton requests that they save their questions until the four of them can all talk together. Fifteen minutes later, on the outskirts of Pleasantville, the car pulls to a stop.

The house is pretty generic in terms of the white picket fence set up. Two stories, but it backs to the woods where Tommy likes to run when he wolfs out, so there's that. Blue siding, grey shutters on the windows. Tommy notices lights on all corners and an alarm system in place. And since it's just days away from December, the house is decked out for Christmas, with lights on the railings and along the rain gutters.

"Nice place," Merton says, as they all climb out of the car.

Older Merton is in the midst of responding when the scent of other werewolves hits Tommy. "Who else is here?" He demands, fearing an attack as he instinctually settles in front of Merton. "We dismantled the Werewolf Syndicate. Are there more wolves now?" He can hear voices, too. Laughing, talking, but muffled though a phone. A dog barking in the back yard.

Older Merton stops him from charging into the house in search of werewolves. "Relax. We need to talk to you before you go barging into anything, okay? I guess I can explain that now. We'll go inside in a minute, but take some time to adjust to the new scents."

"So start explaining," Tommy says, more than a little tense. He doesn't like not knowing what they're holding back and the scents he's picking up don't make any sense at all.

With a great, heaving sigh, he starts. "You two are going to end up together. If you already are, well, great, you're ahead of where we were when we came through for this conversation. It seems like there are slight variations in the time-line but everything happens eventually. No avoiding it. And the sooner you acknowledge it, the more time you'll have before the really crazy stuff starts."

Tommy and Merton exchange glances, before they both awkwardly break the eye contact in favor of staring intently at the ground. There've been... things. Things that suggest that they're both kind of more than interested in each other, but neither of them has yet to act on those things. So Tommy tries for stoic and unimpressed, but is barely successful, and Merton's nervous giggling kicks into gear and yeah, they're going to have some things to talk about once this is over.

"Wait," Merton says, catching on. "What crazy stuff? Can our lives actually get any crazier than they already are?"

"You... ugh, recall our alien run in?" Older Merton asks his younger counterpart.

"Kind of hard to forget that," Tommy cuts in. "What about it?"

"There are some lingering side effects from it." A new voice cuts in, as Older Tommy appears from the gate blocking off the backyard, a mutt of a dog trailing after him obediently. He still looks strong and fit, presently clad in a pair of cargo pants and a long-sleeved concert t-shirt. His eyes flash yellow when he approaches, and Younger Tommy's echo the switch. The dog gives a muffled 'whuff,' wagging its tail contentedly at the people who smell just like the rest of his pack.

Older Merton shakes his head. "And by side effects, he means babies."

Merton and Tommy can only stare, speechless at the older versions of themselves as they absorb this ridiculous information. "Ha ha," Merton laughs slowly. "You guys are hilarious. Playing tricks on us. Right."

But Tommy's pretty sure they aren't joking. There's the illogical smell, for one, werewolves that smell like a weird combination of himself and Merton - probably what they wanted him to catch on to - and Older Tommy's frowning face and serious comments cement the idea. "It's not a joke. He almost died having them. It'll probably be different for you, but I had to drag him out of the hearse after it was totaled and I couldn't take him to a hospital because there would have been way too many questions. Luckily, we knew where to go for help with the pups."

Solemn and serious now, Merton finds himself clinging to Tommy because he doesn't particularly look forward to putting his Tommy through any sort of situation equivalent to that. "I... I guess that's why another hearse wasn't practical?" He asks quietly. Older Merton nods in agreement.

"And they're wolves, too?" Tommy questions, tries to scent for the answer to his next question but finds he can't quite pick out the differences between them. "How many?"

"Three," Older Merton answers. "Two boys and a girl. All wolves, but they seem to have inherited Tommy's good wolf genes and not our evil wolf genes."

Younger Merton frowns at the reminder of that, that he can never be a wolf, too, but he pushes that aside. There are too many other questions at hand, here. "So, ugh, how exactly does this get explained? Us having kids? Is that, like, normal in 2012?"

Their older counterparts lead them inside to continue this conversation, through the front door into the living room. And they explain that, no, having kids like they did is not normal, but that they've convinced everyone that the kids are biologically Tommy's, that some girl from State left them with him, didn't want them, and that everyone has bought the story. They explain that after that part was cleared up, Merton 'adopted' them as his own, too. They explain that some things are normal - that they've gotten married, because that's legal now, and Tommy and Merton feel a little dense for not noticing the rings that each of them are wearing (gold, not silver, because werewolves) and that the living together thing and being together thing are both pretty much accepted in Pleasantville. In fact, no one was surprised by it at all.

Older Tommy and Merton ply them with drinks (because they need them, after all of this extraordinary news) as they continue to talk.

"Where are the kids?" Tommy asks, when he realizes that he hasn't heard or seen a trace of them around the house, except for pictures on the walls.

"Yeah," Merton echoes. "Shouldn't they be here?"

"They're at Mom and Dad's," Older Tommy says. "That's one thing you can't do, meet them. Or know their names."

Merton pouts, but Tommy has more questions. "Do they know? That we're werewolves?"

A nod. "Yeah, it would've been too hard to hide it. They know the truth about how they were born, too. Even if it took them forever to believe it. Becky knows, too. She's an awesome babysitter."

"And they're all okay with it?"

"Well, yeah. It took a little getting used to, but they all came around. It wasn't so bad."

"Oh," Older Merton says out of nowhere. "I have to give them the book. Phew, almost forgot."

"Book?"

But he's already up and heading to the stairs. Tommy tracks his movements down the hall and into a room at the back of the house. He hears a muted, 'aha!' and then the sound of footsteps returning. "Here," he declares, passing it to his younger counterpart. "You'll need this."

Merton frowns at the text, one he doesn't recognize from his own collection. "Uh, what for?"

"It has information on things you haven't had to deal with yet. Tommy calls it the 'Grimmopedia,' but he totally stole that from Grimm - before that it was the 'Monster Book of Monsters,' which, Harry Potter - so we'll call it the 'Libro Creaturarum,' like the title says it is. It'll come in handy. There's stuff on Pagan Gods, Harpies, Sirens, Wendigos, Phoenixes. You know, the usual stuff." And it's sad that those things don't sound all that far off from their usual monsters of the week. "It also has information on some other people we've found that hunt. And some police officers and, like I said, doctors, who know what's what in terms of supernatural happenings. So. Useful."

"Add to it," Older Tommy puts in. "If anything you fight isn't already in there, or you learn anything new about something that is, write it. Also, make copies. Digitalize it, when you get the technology. And then give it to yourselves when you come through like this."

Tommy and Merton exchange confused looks, because time loops are complicated. "You mean when we come through to talk to us?" Tommy unhelpfully summarizes. "When we," he gestures between himself and his Merton, "are older. And younger versions come through."

"Right," Older Tommy answers. "It'll be today. But you'll have to find them before they do anything that'll cause trouble. When we came through, we almost walked straight into Mom and Dad. They probably would've been okay, but we didn't know that at the time. November 29, 2012. Don't forget."

"Thinking that's not possible," Merton answers, practically humming with nervous energy. He wants to read the book - for the invaluable intel on new monsters and for the important information concerning his own future because he feels like he should start planning for the crazy bits as soon as possible - and this has all just been a very stressful day.

Tommy's hand settles on Merton's back, because the wolf picked up on his stress and a stressed Merton is not a fun Merton. "Anything else we need to know? Winning lottery numbers? Super Bowl champions?"

"Hah," Older Merton laughs. "Very funny."

"At least tell me the Bronco's make another Super Bowl," Tommy pleads with his older self, sure that he'll get that answer.

A frown, and "Nope. Not since 1999. They haven't even played in it since then. Made the play-offs a couple of times, but no luck." Older Tommy explains, sadly. "But, you guys should get going. The wormhole won't be open much longer."

And that's sobering news because they definitely don't want to go getting stuck here - who knows what effect that would have on the time line that is their lives? So, they take their book, say their goodbyes, and Older Tommy drives them back to Emerson Park while Older Merton goes to pick up the kids.

The silvery flicker of light that is the wormhole is considerably smaller than it was when they'd left it. "Good timing," Merton says, the book tucked tightly under his arm as he and Tommy approach it. They step through the wormhole, back to 2002, and while they should be used to it's unbalancing effects, they fall through the other side with less grace than they'd stepped into it with. It's not a problem for Tommy's werewolf reflexes, but he has to catch Merton so he doesn't go face-planting the adjacent tree.

"Yeah, I vote for drinks at the Factory," Tommy declares, as they leave the park. "And then I think we need to talk about all of this."

Merton pauses in his steps, forcing Tommy to run into him. "You mean the whole 'we just spent the day in the future part' or the 'we get married and have puppies' part?" He swallows hard, a little afraid of what all of this means for a relationship that hasn't even started yet.

"Puppies? Really?"

"Hey!" Merton defends. "Older you called them pups!"

Tommy laughs, and laughing is a good thing right now, but it can't last long with this conversation lingering over them. "But, ugh, both. Both of those things."

They're still in the park, and he's sure he doesn't want to have this conversation at the Factory. Maybe not at the Lair, either, because there's Becky and his parents to interrupt, whereas out here, there's nothing. "Can we have it now? Because I'm kind of freaking out and I would like some verification that you are, too."

"What are you freaking out about, exactly?" Tommy questions, stopping their forward progress to lean against a tree. "The being with me part?"

Merton frowns, tilts his head in confusion. "What? No. I'm freaking out about the fact that at some point in the next ten years, everything that happened to them will probably happen to us, too. I'm freaking out about the fact that I haven't even kissed you yet and I know I end up repeating the whole 'Junior' thing with you. And that - what? why are you smiling? There is nothing smile worthy about this rant that you are interrupting with your smiling and-"

"Haven't kissed me yet?"

"Yeah, well," Merton mumbles. "Not like you didn't know it was coming."

Tommy barks out another laugh and moves in to kiss Merton soundly on the lips. And it's not like he had any doubts, either, not after today. Merton's the only one who has ever accepted him as he is and as the wolf. Merton's the only one the wolf is oddly protective of, the only one it really thinks of as totally trustworthy. The kiss drags on and on, and the wolf flashes out a little bit, mostly just in his eyes, but then gives in just as easily and that's never happened before. Usually that part of him rears its way to the front and won't back down until its ruined the moment. Apparently that was frustration and not excitement, because he can feel the wolf practically purring and he feels more relaxed that he has in months, like he's been on edge and didn't even know it until he wasn't anymore. His hands curl around Merton, pulling him in closer as the kiss deepens.

"Tommy," Merton says quietly, when they finally break apart. "That was..."

"Really, really good?" He supplies, a grin on his face.

"Yeah, let's go with that," Merton answers, letting his hand curl in Tommy's shirt to pull him back. He pauses before the kissing can start anew, "And for the record, we are not doing anything else until I have researched this whole puppy thing extensively because we do not need any surprises until after we finish school, okay? Okay."

Tommy's laugh is lost against Merton's mouth, but he doesn't really mind.

---

"Everyone in the car!" Tommy announces, in the early hours of a cold, November morning just a few days after Thanksgiving.

"Why are we goin' to Grandma and Granddad's so early?"

"Because," Merton says, shutting the door behind them once they're all outside. Everyone is bundled in warm clothes (because it snowed last night and they have no delusions that playing outside will happen once they're more awake) and sipping hot chocolate as they clamber into the car. "They're extra excited to see you."

"They just saw us three days ago!"

"I'm excited to see you every day," Merton counters, making sure that everyone is buckled in. And he gets a giggly smile in response, so mission accomplished.

"And me?"

"And you. All of you." He corrects, looking in the rearview mirror at the trio of six and a half year old werewolves. Connor, Caleb, and Hannah Dawkins (because Merton is not cruel and Dingle is not a cool last name). Born May 10, 2006 - happily after graduation and not in a life-threatening, pagan god related car crash situation. The boys have Merton's blue eyes and Tommy's hair. Connor is shy and likes to read. Caleb loves soccer and football and baseball and anything that means running. Hannah has Merton's black hair and Tommy's eyes. She's into sports like her brother, but is a total girly-girl when she's not competing with him.

"Can Chance come, too?" Hannah asks, looking out the slowly fogging window to mutt of a dog waiting obediently on the porch.

"No, Chance can't come, sorry," Merton says.

Tommy leans in through the open driver's side window and kisses Merton quickly. "Be careful," he says. "Roads might be icy."

"Will do," Merton answers. "Try my old place, then the school and the factory. Once I drop them off, I'll check the park. Call me," he says, as he pulls away.

The drive to Tommy's parent's house doesn't take long at all. Only about fifteen minutes. Traffic is lighter than normal because of the hour and the weather, so they make it there in ten, even with slow snow driving.

Bob and Sally are waiting at the door and despite the trio's lack of enthusiasm, they've apparently reconsidered the idea now that they're here. "Grandma! Grandpa!" come the chorus of shouts, as the kids pile out of the car and toward the door. "Can we play in the snow later?" Hannah asks, just as Connor cuts in with, "And make a snowman?" Caleb adds his own thoughts, "And have a snowball fight?"

"Sure, kids," Bob says, "but let's wait until after breakfast, okay?"

The three run inside with Sally, but only after Merton gets hugs and kisses goodbye, and he turns to his almost-father-in-law (the state's taking a little longer to get on the same sex marriage bandwagon in this time line, apparently) to assure him that he'll be by sometime this afternoon to pick them up.

Bob shoos him off and Merton goes. He's just turning off of the street when he sees the familiar figures approaching, coming straight from the Park. He shoots off a quick text message to Tommy, telling him to head back home, and stop the car.

"-think we'd be? At the Lair? I really hope I wouldn't be living at home after all this time," he hears himself complaining to this younger version of Tommy. "And why would we be at your place? We're never at your place. Your parents might know we're together, but that doesn't make them any less intimidating."

Merton hums in thought. Already together, jeez, they're way ahead of the curve. The sooner they get this warning, the better, then. "Looking for me?" He asks casually as they walk by the parked SUV.

They both startle and he lets them take a long moment to absorb all the changes (his younger self pouts at the lack of gothic clothing (he's chosen black jeans, a red shirt and a pale blue hoodie that is actually Tommy's for this meeting) and the lack of hearse (they might have avoided the pagan god puppy thing, but that didn't stop some drunk guy from plowing into the hearse while it was parked in the driveway, either) and the Disney channel music that's still coming from the speakers (one grows immune to the tortures after so much exposure)) before he grins and says, "get in. We've got a lot of stuff to tell you."

November 29, 2012 is going to be an entertaining day, Merton thinks.