Chapter Text
He patted himself down first.
He didn't remember putting on his current shirt, or the pants he was wearing.
His clothes crumpled under his hands. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before slowly looking down further.
Nothing. No blood on his shoes or anywhere else really.
His head didn't hurt, he didn't hurt at all really.
He assessed his surroundings, the same cold garage, and the same tech from all those years ago. No doubt impressive to the average person, but nothing compared to his newer inventions.
“A mirror…” he spoke softly to himself, tasting the words in his mouth. Rough, and far too unlike himself.
He made a mental note to drink water after checking his appearance.
He usually didn't keep mirrors on him, but he did have one in the bathroom. If his guess was correct, Diane wouldn't care all that much.
Still, he moved around quietly, each step calculated. The house was seemingly vacant, a relieved sigh was all that he let himself have.
The bathroom was as cold as the rest of the house, “Jesus, I should've fixed the thermostat sooner.”
He preferred it cold, so things didn't overheat. In times like these he wished they did.
He touched his hair, scavenging for a white line that he knew wasn't there, leaning closer to the cracked mirror. The familiar buzz of cool lighting radiating above him was enough to make his head spin.
He had theories, ideas, and thoughts of his own, but this was confirmation.
Eventually, his hands stopped moving as he backed away, looking at himself in his entirety.
His face was blank, unwrinkled and pale, only a little pink at his cheeks.
He stared, mouth a straight line before shifting to a performative grin, like someone was watching, and honestly, someone could've been watching.
“Now, why isn't the time police here?” He huffed, face falling, he headed downstairs. No point in worrying yet.
His eyes hung on the unwashed mugs, and the mess of toys on the ground, then he saw what he had been looking for.
The thermostat was set way too low, he hadn't even realized his hands had been shaking until he turned the knob to a preferable degree.
He quickly tidied up the rest of the house, washing the mugs and trashing the toys, especially the pirate stuff.
Eyepatch's had only grown more distasteful with time travel. Diane had a sick way of getting back at him, she knew he hated pirates.
By the time he went back to the garage all he could feel was annoyance despite the opportunity, unexplainable time travel couldn't be good.
He picked up a box of materials and got to work. “Why send me through time?” He screwed the scraps, “The cops aren't here— ACK—” his work fell onto the ground. He quickly picked it back up and put on gloves, it'd have been embarrassing if he burned his hand again, and been shocked by it, again.
“So the cops either don't know, don't care, or are in on it. F-fucking great.” He shoved the device into his pants pocket, it didn't fully fit but that didn't matter, he planned on upgrading his gear anyway.
While walking to his neighbor's house he took a moment to look around for clues. Same shitty decorations, same shitty houses, same shitty neighbor he didn't bother remembering the name of.
When he reached his neighbor's house he hesitated before knocking. He couldn't help but feel just a bit bad that it was happening this way, but this guy had it coming for a long time.
He opened the door, same dorky glasses and generally dorky face too. “Howdy Rick! You never visit! Did something happen?” He whispered the last part.
Rick groaned, “Yeah, yeah, so, what day and time is it and uh, any general information you have about this world. If I'm in prison you should tell me now.”
His neighbor looked a little confused but kept a cheerful tone, if only a little skeptical, “You feelin’ alright? I mean you can come see my calendar but if you need any help I can—”
Rick pushed past him and checked all the clocks, calendars, dishes, and souvenirs in the house, if anything had been tampered with, those would be the most obvious.
“Feel any… murdery as of late? Or feel like suckling on a toad?” Rick threw out a few unlikely theories, that his bitch-ass neighbor probably wouldn't get. Unless those theories ended up being correct.
“Uh, no? A-and do you need to be taking my flask? I thought you were going sober?”
Rick smirked “Yeah, It's just that all the alcohol in the area might be contaminated. The FDC and BLT or whatever sent a letter— hey! Since when did you go to Niagara Falls?”
His neighbor scratched his head, “Oh. I dunno Rick? Maybe 3 years ago? Don't break it though!”
Rick examined it closely but sighed and put it back on the kitchen counter. Horrible placement for a snow globe by the way.
But, more importantly, he was right, and he wasn't sure if it was the best thing to ever happen to him or the worst. It scared him, but only a little bit.
Whoever did this would be sorry, that was what he tried to focus on.
“Hey pal, everything alright? If you ever need anything there are people who can help you.” His neighbor put a hand on Rick's shoulder. Probably meant to be comforting but it only felt like an insult.
Rick gave a non threatening smile while brushing his hand off and backing up, “I know. Thanks, John Doe. Or… something like that.” He looked up, squinting, as if thinking hard, “If I'm being totally honest I don't remember your name. Sorry about that man, I'm sure someone'll remember!” He looked back at his neighbor whose confused expression only deepened.
“What? I don't—!”
Blood splattered across the walls. He hadn't even purposefully aimed for the head, he just felt so annoyed by his voice he did it on instinct. All that was left of his neighbor was flesh chunks spread across his kitchen.
“Oh wait. Was his name Gene? Or was it actually John? God, I should've asked BEFORE shooting him. Well, too late now.”
He shivered at the thought. He shivered. He paused, the blood, the gore, the flesh, it was too similar to something so distant yet all too recent. It really shouldn't be affecting him this much.
He could still feel the ghost of a fist slamming into his face. At some point it hurt so much he grew numb, like white noise over his thoughts.
He thought about what led up to that moment. He couldn't forget the moment, the moment when they first met and when they last met.
It was fucked up, the way it had him trembling, blinking a bit too rapidly, having irrational thoughts. It's not like it mattered, it shouldn't matter. Even so, he was still keeled over the flesh chunks of his former neighbor on the ground.
He gagged, nothing came out. Taking in deep ragged breaths, he slowly stood up and wiped his eyes. He walked over the sink and wiped his face with cold water. Taking another breath, calm and collected, he went back to his garage.
He took a shower, changed into his usual outfit, making a few upgrades while he was at it. Taking another breath, calm and collected, he went back to his bathroom.
He took a shower, changed into his usual outfit, making a few upgrades in his garage while he was at it.
It was a bit early, but he had a visit to make.