Punching the Clock, But It's Already Broken

Great Value Back To the Future

"Wait. Explain it to me again."

Henry and Michael were sitting down at Henry's welding table, an endoskeleton between them as a sort of poorly-times comedy prop.

Michael sighed, hugging his elbows and resisting the urge to smack his head against the endoskeleton.

"I'm from the future, Uncle Henry. I got thrown back in time, to now. I came from- shit, what year was it...?"

"Language." Henry responded, clearly acting on an automatic response.

Michael stared at him. "You do realise that by technicalities, I am older than you, right?"

Henry chuckled. "Yeah, I... kind of get that. ... Do you know how you got here?" He looked at Michael, who shook his head.

"I wish I did, but I've got nothing. Most I can think of is either Cassidy or-" His gaze drifted to the doorway, where a familiar little girl was standing forlornly at the top of the steps.

"Charlie." Michael finished his sentence, turning his entire body to face her.

"Mike." Charlie's voice sounded serious. "Theo n' me wanna talk." She beckoned for him to follow her, turning around and plodding off.

Michael banged his head against the table, and Henry reached out on second instinct. "Don't do that, Superstar. You're not dead anymore, you can actually get hurt now." He reminded the boy.

"Thanks, Uncle Henry. I keep forgetting that." Michael said sincerely, then got up and hugged the man.

Henry was still for about 5 seconds before getting up and bear-hugging Michael. "I love you, Michael. I always will."

"I know, Uncle Henry. I know."

After Michael broke away, he turned to the doorway. "I'd better see what she wants. It could be important, knowing that little girl." He grinned at Henry, who returned the expression.

"You'll never know unless you check it out."

Mike nodded, then trudged up the stairs.

Back in the living room, Charlie stood with her arms crossed over her chest, looking very serious for a little girl carrying a purple bunny. "Mike." She said demandingly, then pointed at the couch. "Sit." She ordered.

Michael sat.

"You aren't Mike."

It wasn't a question. Michael felt a chill run up his spine.

"... Well, I kind of am. I'm from the future, Charlie. I was brought back by someone."

Charlie's expression shifted into one of satisfaction, and that was somehow more terrifying than when she had no expression at all.

"I know," She said, and Michael stared at her. "You... Know? How?" He wanted to ask a million questions, but had to remind himself that this was still a toddler.

"Other me brought you back. Fix things. Not enough time to. She told me." Charlie looked rather proud of herself, and Michael wanted to laugh. Not at Charlie, but at the idea that future Charlie wanted him to try and fix things further than what he'd already set his mind to.

He couldn't exactly find any trapped spirits when those spirits weren't even trapped yet.

"Charlie, did she tell you how exactly I was supposed to do that?" Michael asked carefully, and Charlie nodded.

"Mhm! Leave Evie alone, watch Ellie, and... keep Auntie from a car!" Charlie responded cheerfully.

Waves of cold ran through Michael's blood like electrical shocks.

Don't prank Evan. Keep an eye on Elizabeth so she doesn't check out Circus Baby. Keep Mom away from the car she crashed in.

Simple enough.

He'd just have to completely alter the timeline in a way that Charlie deemed fit.

A part of him wondered if Cassidy had anything to do with this. Probably, considering she had been working with Charlie and him to plot William's demise as well. She probably wanted to make sure at least one version of her stayed alive. He couldn't say he blamed her.

He'd forgotten how nice it was to be breathing, to feel your heart pounding in your chest and not have a constant pain in your body when you move. How pleasant it was being able to sleep and eat and love without fear of anyone thinking you were a demon.

... For the most part.

His mind drifted back to his friends. The ones he'd gotten high with, the ones he'd driven places, the ones he confided his deepest secrets in. The ones he'd made a blood oath with under the slides in the third grade.

The ones he'd fallen in love with, and who loved him back.

He wondered how they were doing. He wondered how they had been after he'd died, after everything that had happened. He wondered if they heard about the security guard dying at Circus Baby's and asked themselves if it was him. If they went to his funeral that he barely remembered. If any of them cared enough to ask around about where he'd gone when he ran away from Hurricane.

He wondered if they ever cared after the Bite.

Charlie's voice snapped him out of his trance.

"Mike? Are you okay?"

He looked down at Charlie. Sweet little Charlie, unfettered by death, free and innocent.

He nodded shakily. "Uh- yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

"About your timeline?" Charlie asked, adept and observant as ever. Even in another timeline, she was still sharp as a whittle. 

"... Yeah. About my timeline," Mike replied, looking down at the carpet. He was sure it used to be white, but wear and tear had worn it to threadbare stains. "'Bout my friends n' stuff, y'know?" 

Charlie wrapped her little arms around Mike's torso, burying her face in his gut. He smiled softly, and picked her up, holding her in his arms. She immediately flung her arms around Mike's neck, and rested her face in his shoulder. "'M sorry, Mikey..." She mumbled, her words muffled by the cloth of Mike's shirt. "Don't be," came the ready reply. "It is in no way your fault. Charlie Emily, you have done and will do great things. If anyone deserves a chance to be happy, it's you. I'm going to make things right for all of us, okay? I promise." 

Charlie looked at him, brown eyes droopy and hazy. She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve because that was what 3-year-olds did. "You promise?" She repeated, trying to blink the tears away. He nodded, smiling reassuringly. Or, he hoped it was reassuring. 

"I promise. No matter what, I will make things right."