1963-11-26 - Reunion
Summary: Speed and (…)Wiccan reunite from the FUTURE
Related: None
Theme Song: None
tommy billy 

It's afternoon, and while a lot of Coney Island is down for the winter, that doesn't mean it all is. In particular, Nathan's is never shut down. Who could go a whole week without the crisp, crunchy hot dogs? Billy is bundled up because it's freaking COLD, thick jacket over sweater over shirt, and the colors don't quite match because although he thinks he's pretty cool (he knows he's not) he's really not exactly, so whatever.

"A chili cheese dog and an order of bacon ranch fries and a lemonade." he says, handing over the money. He still can't get over a) how little his allowance is but b) how cheap everything is. He's recently gotten a serious education in the meaning of inflation.


There's been a lot of confusion running around Tommy's head lately. Ever since Halloween, that much /does/ make sense to him… or maybe it's /until/ Halloween? He's not entirely saure, because /before,/ it's like he's got two sets of memories that conflict with each other. One side of his brain that claims he was being some kind of hero, the other half arguing that he was being his normal, delinquent self and getting into trouble. He's been playing it off as being 'sick' for a while now — thankfully, Frank didn't care enough to ask questions for the most part — and today figured it might be good to get out of the house.

So it was a short run over — literally, took only a couple seconds to get here from Springfield — but it's worth it for a good hot dog. Which he's currently in line for. Waiting. Waiting impatiently. It's taking forever. For-freaking-ever. And the person in /front/ of him in the enormous line (there's only a couple behind Billy, really, but we're talking speedster-viewpoint!) is just.. breathing. Not even talking on a cell phone.

…what's a cell phone again?

After a while (real time: maybe two seconds), Tommy decides that waiting isn't much his style. There's a rush of wind from behind the line, and those paying attention might even notice a blurred figure rushing behind the stand — long enough to swipe a meal being prepared in the midst of it being prepared — and coalesce once more in the form of the sweatshirted figure, now standing over by a table with food and drink, and a fry — covered in bacon /and/ ranch? Interesting! — en route to his mouth. For a teenager, his hair's awfully light-colored, too.

…and the poor Nathan's employee who was preparing the meal is just… dumbstruck at the moment. He was /just/ holding that hot dog, too! Maybe he just hasn't been getting enough sleep since the President's assassination. Determining that to be the cause, he sets about remaking Billy's meal.


There's wind and… Billy blinks. He totally saw HIS FOOD was there, he knows because he's freaking starving, but then … its not? Confused, he watches as the employee begins again. There's something familiar about the occurrance, too. Like this sort of thing used to happen to him all the time. Like he used to be amused and annoyed at once. But no, that's not possible.

Still, it doesn't take that long to get his replacement food into a box for carrying, and Billy is smiling, nodding, and turning to head over to take a seat. His stomach growls to tell the world that he's skipped one too many meals today— wait, what?

Billy stares at the white haired teenager for a long moment, just sort of stuck there. He remembers him! And… he doesn't. What the hell? One day he's going to figure out what the hell went wrong and fix it, but now… tentatively, Billy is like, "… Tommy?" No, that can't be Tommy. Not his Speed. That has to be like, Tommy's great grandpa or something.


Food. Food is good. Food is life. Food is especially good when it's free, and the more delinquent side of him really doesn't mind enjoying the free that his powers can bring from time to time. The world /does/ kind of owe him, anyways. So he's munching away on fries, enjoying the deliciousness, and is about to take the first bite of that delicious chili cheese dog when he hears his name.

Granted, Tommy's not one to object to hearing his name; he rather likes being the center of attention. However, food comes first, and that's why without even looking, he lifts his free hand, holds up his index finger in the direction of the voice talking to him, and then takes the first delicious bite. Chewing. Savoring. Making a mess of himself. There are some things in life that he tries not to do at high speed when possible, and eating is on the list.

Once that bite is taken, a smirk crosses over his lips and his response comes easily. "Who wants t'know?" Oh, the attitude is probably familiar. Probably a flashback to when Billy /first/ met Tommy, for that matter. There's no recognition in his tone — but his attention's mostly been on the food for the moment, so that's understandable.


At the index finger, Billy arches a brow, then shrugs, and helps himself to sit down across from his future friend's great grandpappy. Apparently attitude is genetic. Once settled, he lifts his chilly cheese dog and takes a moment biting into its crispy gooey goodness, making not-Tommy wait for his response. Once he's done chewing he goes for lemonade, and then he says, "Billy. Billy Kaplan."

He takes a minute to get a really, really good look at Tommy then: he's staring, really. Man, he not only looks just like Tommy, he kinda looks like Pietro, too! But he can't be. Tommy's some ways into the future. So! Billy nabs a fry, makes sure its gooped up with ranch and some bacon bits, and chews on it. "You must be related to my friend Tommy." Which is probably going to be interpreted as cousin and not like, ancestor.


Tommy isn't the kind to wait for /anything./ Billy's pretty fortunate, however, that Tommy's got food to distract himself with… and distracted he most certainly was, as it almost seems like a surprise when Billy speaks again — not just because of what he says, but because /anything/ was said.

It takes a while for Tommy to process the words (which is to say, not really long at all), but once he does? He echoes them. "Billy Kaplan." There's a tiny pause. "I /know/ that name."

Green eyes close and brows furrow, now, as the speedster tries to place /where/ he knows the name from. "You're Stitches' cousin, ain'tcha?" Pause, shake of head. "No, that's a Bobby. One of the 42nd street boys, maybe?" he asks, opening an eye as if trying to catch a sign of agreement. Seeing none, he continues pondering.

Until Billy says he must be related to a Tommy. That's when Tommy reacts. Blink of an eye, Tommy's from his spot on one end of the table and looming over Billy on the other side, waggling a fry like an angry finger. "Nuh-uh. Ain't /nobody/ who shares my name in my family. Ain't nobody who /deserves/ it, either. There is and always will be just /one/ Tommy Shepherd, and don't you forget it. Unless you're a cop or somethin', in which case feel free to forget it, and there might be twelve of us."

Smooth. Real smooth, Tommy.


Billy blinks and Tommy goes from there to here, loomin' and stuff. Billy can't help but grin: that's not Tommy's grandpappy, that's Tommy. No way his grandpappy is a speedster, too! And since he's waggling a fry, Billy will lift his own fry up and waggle it right back. Take That. "How're Frank and Mary? Frank still an ass in 1963?" he ventures, his entire demeanor electric. Not literally, because Billy can totally do that. "Do I look like a cop? Jeez. Man, the spell really *worked* on you, didn't it? You think you're from here. Now."

But Billy can't stop grinning, "I'm Billy. Come on, look at me. Nothing familiar? Speed and Aether, with the others, fighting crime and saving the world?" He's a bit vague on 'others', and Aether is totally not what he was called … then.


Well, this guy definitely knows /some/ things about him, and the surprise is evident in Tommy's eyes. They widen, then narrow. Then widen again. "I ain't their keeper, though they should probably look into that," Eyeroll. "Frank's /always/ an ass. Just like he was in 1962. 1961. 1960…" he corrects, interrupting himself to chomp on his emoting fry. "…and yeah, kinda. You look as straight-laced as they come. Kinda like a choir boy 'cept without the robes and fancy candles and stuff." He points out.

Then there's something that changes. Spell? Worked on /him?/ Thinking he's from here? That gets another narrow of his eyes. Is this guy responsible for…

"Speed and Aether…" he echoes… then shakes his head. "and /Wiccan./" Something softens a bit in his eyes. Something seems to click, and for once, his attention is focused like a laser. "You're /Billy./" Pause. "Wait. You're saying that you're behind my head bein' all split in two lately?" Eyes narrow /again./ "I should knock your lights out, right here and now. Gimme a good reason why not."


"It was an accident!" Billy sighs, running a hand through his hair, "I don't remember what happened— heck my memory is all screwed up. But I was doing something, and back here in 1963, Wanda was doing something, and our somethings intersected, and ripped our lives out of then and stitched them into now. I don't at all understand how it happened, but I thought it was just me— and my family. I have NO idea why it would yank YOU and yours too." He winces, "Coulda left Frank in the future, really, and you probably would write me a thankyou note."

But he blinks, "Wiccan? What's that even mean?" Billy shakes his head slowly, "I don't know, I don't remember everything clearly. And hell, I remember growing up now, too. Its like the effect tried to rewrite us into now but it failed. It totally worked on my parents, though." That makes him hesitate.


Tommy rears back a fist and… stops. The explanation was fair. Accident is a get out of jail free card for Tommy, originator of plenty accidents himself in the future… and past, apparantly. Another blur, and he's sitting across from Billy. Another fry in mouth. Actually, more like five. But it gives him time to chew physically /and/ mentally over what's being said; and swallow. "I don't do thank you notes." he points out. "Mighta hired you a Chippendale's dancer or something, though." Yes, he hasn't forgotten that detail. "Well. I woulda paid half. Teddy woulda had to pay the other half if he wanted to watch too." And that detail. He doesn't know it all, not by a long shot, but there's certain things that stick out.

"So this Wanda's responsible for the mixed up thoughts in my head too, huh?" There's a crinkling of his nose, followed by an afterthought. "Wanda's a girl's name. Is she hot?" Because it's harder to get mad at a hot girl. As to the rest? That draws a frown. "Yeah. I remember all sorts of weird things. I remember now and not-now. Like… I remember being let out of juvie, and being /broken out/ by you and the others." There's a half-pause and Tommy's fingers start tapping on the table. Tapping faster than anyone's fingers should be able to tap and threatening to leave an imprint before he stops. "The others. If what you and this Wanda chick did brought /us/ here, messed with /our/ heads… what about the others? Are they here, too?" There's something in his eyes. Something that borders on hope and anxiety; as if he's hoping for two different answers that sit at polar opposite ends from one another, and neither one that it's clear that he wants.


"I wonder if Teddy's back here somewhere." Billy sounds pained, looking away. Looking crestfallen, really. But he'll cover it with a big ol' bite of hotdog. And then he'll nearly choke to death at 'is she hot' "Dude you can't ask if she's hot, she's my mother." Except his mother is Rebecca, a psychologist. So that totally doesn't make any sense at all.

"I thought it was just me and my immediate family, but I guess maybe it might be them too? Except I can't remember them. Well I remember Teddy. Of course." He could never forget TEDDY. "And you. But I don't remember the others. I just remember there was …more. And I remember doritos and you have absolutely no idea how much I want doritos."

He sighs, and goes for a fry instead. "See, Doctor Strange says what I do is reality manipulation, whatever that means, and Wanda does that too." And there's someone named 'Doctor Strange' and there's nothing weird about that. Uh huh.


Tommy's not the comforting type. But there's a blur, a brief patting attempted on Billy's shoulder, another blur, and a look that reads: 'Tell anyone, you die.' that gets shot across the table. "Nuh-uh. That ain't fair. I know your mom's name, it's /Rebecca./ I get /she's/ on the no fly list, no fair adding more names to the list, /especially/ if they're hot." Tommy points out helpfully.

"For your sake, I hope so. For my sake…" There's a pause, and a bit of sheepish rubbing at the back of his neck. "…I dunno." Grimace. "What if there's somebody out there that I'm supposed to remember, too? Like, what if I have a Teddy — well, not a /Teddy,/ but, you know, hot, maybe blonde… or brunette. Or redhead. /Female./" Clarify. Important. "…but I don't. I mean, I like the freedom, and I don't /think/ I'd settle down, but I didn't think anyone would get me to wear a uniform, either. At least not anyone who wasn't carrying a taser." 'cause, you know, juvie.

Doritos gets a long look from Tommy. "…you can't… /make/ doritos, can you?" There's so much hope in those words. "Who's Doctor Strange?" Pause. "Doctor Strange. Did I just ask /who/ Doctor Strange is?" Nosewrinkle. "This is all some kind of dream, and I'm gonna wake up any second now. Or, like, some kinda VR game set in the past with horrible music."


"No, seriously, its like… I don't know how it happened but apparently I was adopted or something and my parents never told me— I haven't worked it out. But, man, you have to meet these people." Billy has so much to tell him, but he looks absolutely bewildered in how to start, "Look, so like, there's this guy, Doctor Strange, who is like the Sorcerer Supreme and stop laughing. That's a thing, apparently. It means he's like the head of magic school or something. And he's dating this lady Wanda, who has powers almost like mine. And her brother has powers almost like yours. You won't believe it until you see it, but somehow, like… We're her kids. You and me. Only our families raised us. Adopted us. Somehow." He takes a long breath and lets it out slowly, "And never told us." That hurts. He winces, "And obviously I got the better deal in the family department."

He waves a hand around here, and lowers his voice, "And this place is freaking crazy." Billy does not cuss. "They're all racists and homophobes, apparently if I said I was gay they would first be confused and ask why I'm happy and then kill me because everyone is an asshole in 1963."

"No I can't make doritos." He handled the importance of issues in order: and the most important issue was last.


"Oh." Is the only response that Tommy gives at first. Not laughter, not anger, nothing but.. a blank little 'oh' and attention turned back to food. Chili dog up, chili dog in, BITE. Chew. Chew. Chew. Gulp. This repeats a couple times as inside, Tommy's dealing with it. Raging against everything at even the possibility that it's true.

"So either this /ain't/ real and I just can't turn it off… or I've lost my fuckin' mind," Tommy cusses, no doubt. "…or I have a family that's /NOT/ Frank and Mary who let me get stuck with Frank and Mary and didn't even bother writing some kind of 'Hey kid, sorry I'm ruining your life, but I got knocked up and couldn't handle it so there you go'?"

Chili and cheese both are starting to spill from the bun as anger makes the speedster's fingers /squeeze./ He doesn't even seem to realize it. There's a fire in green eyes that Billy probably hasn't seen before. Everything in Tommy's life? Just got an upgrade to worse, if Billy's speaking true.

…but it's not Billy's fault. "Fucking hell, man. If you're lying, tell me you're lying and I won't even punch you. Honest." There's a brief glimmer of hope, there. It fades quickly. "If someone /does/ try to mess with you, I've got your back, and they'll be on theirs. That's a promise." Then a frown.

"Damn. Doritos would be really good right about now." Comfort food, go.


"We… don't know. She's like, 25. She's never been pregnant: whatever the situation is that led to … whatever it is that got us with these families, happens in her future. She's like… this badass monster hunter, I'm serious. And he's like Magic Head Honcho." He hesitates, then waves a hand, "Dude did you miss what that means? No, I'm not lying, but that means we're brothers. I know, like, people … then … always used to tease us but like, obviously it wasn't true since I have the Kaplans and you have the Shepherds and there was baby pictures and everything. But it's true."

On this subject, Billy's mind is blown. "And we have an uncle who is just like you. Same hair, same power. And he's kind of cool. Pietro. Pietro and Wanda. Twins. One a speedster, one a magicer. Tommy and Billy. One a speedster, one a magicer. I still don't at all know how to process this crap. But… I like these people, man. Well, mostly. The Doctor is kinda bossy and seems used to getting his way." He pulls a face at that.

And spends some time gnawing on his dog.


There's a lot of thoughts bouncing around his head right now. Most of them aren't happy. The words spoken seem to make him less happy at first. "Damnit. So it's not even their fault yet." So much rage. He /really/ wants to take it out on something. Maybe he'll have to sneak into a boxing gym, or something. Just to punch /something./ Or maybe just start painting the town red. He knows he saw a paint store a while back.

But then there's another pause. And a thought that makes him feel ten times better. "If this is true… that means I have family that /doesn't/ suck." he realizes, eyes focusing on Billy. "You don't suck, Billy. You didn't know either… and you've never been an ass to me." Pause. "That I can remember. This spell thing might qualify, but…" There's a handwave, a bite of the hotdog, and he continues.

"So.. we're like a younger them that haven't been born yet but have been born yet and…" The thought loses him for a moment and his eyes go crosseyed so he stops and refocuses. "So. if you're supposed to take after Wanda, and I'm supposed to take after Pietro… why aren't you a chick?" …actually, that's probably a good thing. A chick, who looked as good as Tommy thinks he does, who Tommy /didn't/ know was related to him? That could've been bad. "Nevermind. I mean. I guess I can give them a chance, you know? Whatever they are where /we/ came from, they're not yet. Maybe we can stop that. Maybe we can /change/ things. Like. Butterfly effect." Pause. Grin. "This Strange guy; he's used to getting his way. He hasn't met Tommy Shepherd, yet. I'll get him in line, don't worry about /that./" …he doesn't seem that concerned about Strange being the Epitome of Magic. But then again, Tommy Shepherd has been known for making many bad decisions.


Billy nods a bit grimly: not their fault yet, "And the worst part is I'm pretty sure if I asked my parents now, they wouldn't even know. You're the first person affected by the spell that remembered anything: my parents were written into now perfectly. Hell, my mom is a nurse now." Not a psychologist. "And she cooks dinner every night and thinks this is all normal. Its so weird."

That said, billy does grin when Tommy say he doesn't suck. He knows what the guy means, but he grins anyways. Billy doesn't cuss but that doesn't mean his thoughts are all pure. "Well, I'm not a chick, but think about it a bit. Wanda and I both want the same thing, when it comes to romantic interests." He waggles eyebrows as his grin deepens.

But more seriously, "I don't know if we can change it, the entire situation gives me a headache. Will Strange and Wanda get their groove on and have twins and will those be US? Can there be two US's in the same time and place? I don't know, if I touch baby-me, does the universe unravel? Time sucks."

But he has to laugh. Strange is having trouble keeping Billy in line. Waaaaait until he meets Tommy.


"My folks… uh… the ones I've always known. Nothing's really changed about them. Not that I can remember. Not that I'm sure I'd remember even if there was something different… or if I'd care, to be honest." Family's not really been a big thing to him. Maybe the occasional thought of, if he ever has one, he's not going to grew /them/ up like his did to him, but nothing beyond that.

…and Tommy sees that grin. Eyes widen, hand reaches up to smack his own forehead, and a fry is lobbed across the table. "You /know what I meant./ God, it was bad enough thinking about that when people said you looked like me. Just remember, /my/ face likes girls and does things with /them./" So there. To show his maturity, he even sticks out his tongue.

"Maybe if we get born, we'll go back to the future. Like Marty McFly. But in reverse."


Billy gets his nerd on: "Look, I've read enough books" Billy super duper is into reading books. Primarily sci-fi. "to know enough about temporal mechanics to know that us being here, in the past, means we've now branched off into an alternate timeline. Every second we're here our timeline diverges from the one we're from, and there's no way we can ever get back to it. The possible-future that was where we're from? It no longer *exists*, because we've invalidated it, because in that future there's one simple unalienable fact: Tommy and Billy are in it, not in 1963. In this timeline, we're in 1963. So there's no way to know what our future will be. We're creating an entirely new future just by being here."

The nerd is strong witht his one. "My parents are mostly the same, they just… 'fit' into 1963 and don't recognize anything weird. Mom's job changed because women psychologists in 1963 are rare. But she thinks she's always been a nurse and was always going to be a nurse. I… subtly… questioned her about it."

And he grins. And yes, he knew totally what Tommy meant. "Hey, I know you're a ladies man, dude. I've got no problems with the fact you have no taste at all and in no way realize how awesome it is when you don't have to deal with girls being you know girls." He waves a hand dismissively, but is like >this< close to cracking up.


Billy might know plenty about books, but Tommy spent his days pursuing other things; he may have been the less wiser of the two, looking back at it all. "That just made my head hurt, you know? You just made my head hurt. But… that means we can't go back, doesn't it? Everything we had, right down to the doritos… 'poof'." Everyone they /knew./ The people who believed in him enough to break him out of jail, even though it went against everything heroes did.

Well. That sucks. "So. Is anything different about /you?/ I mean, you still like guys, obviously, even though now doesn't really accept that." Would they even know if something was different about them? There's a bit of confusion that crosses his expression, but it passes quickly.

"What I said earlier still goes, by the way. Especially if we're. You know. Brothers now. Dating won't be easy, so. Y'know, feel free to give me a yell if you're gonna hit on someone, in case I need to hit them for you." It's a problem he's thankful not to have. Although. "…but you need to point out this Wanda chick ASAP so that I /don't/ hit on her in case she's hot." Because he will. And then it will be awkward.


"I don't know… I'm going to try, Tommy, believe me, I'm going to try, because.. Teddy is there." The anguish is real in Billy's face before it falls, and he shakes his head slowly, and he finishes his hot dog in a few moments of silence just to gain composure there. "I don't really know. You called me wiccan? As far as what I remember, I'm Aether. Son of the Sky. I do like, lightning and flight and stuff. This… magic thing I could do in the future, that led to this? I have no idea." As Wiccan, in the future, he was much farther along then he seems to be now.

But Billy cringes at the thought of hitting on Wanda, "You'll know not to when you see her. There's something about her that will just… she like… she has a mom voice even though she's only a few years older then us. But yeah. You. Me. We're going to the Sanctum…" ??? Who the hell calls their house a Sanctum, "…and I'm introducing you to both of them. Our… parents."

He does reach across and sorta friendly-punches Tommy's shoulder, "Yeah well I know you got my back, and I got yours. Anyone you want to electrocute, point 'em out and I'll zap them in the ass."


"If I can help, I will. The whole magic stuff, I can't do that, but let me know. We're… here, we're us, so if there's a solution, we might just be linked to /it/, too." It's not a perfect theory, but it's the best theory his brain is willing to come up with for the moment. "…and got it. I'll remember that in case we ever go into the old business." There's a laugh there; he might have to be convinced.

"Back then…. err.. forward then? You used to do a lot more, and went by Wiccan. Maybe it's something to think about when you get back to doing now when you did then? Mine's always been pretty simple, tells you everything you need to know in one syllable."

"I'm gonna hope you're right on that, but I'll appreciate the heads up when the time comes." Then there's a pause, and one eyebrow raises. "Wait, Sanctum? That sounds like a prison. It's not a prison, right?" He's pretty sure Billy knows better than to take him to one of those.

The punch doesn't draw pain, but a laugh. And a grin. "I'll keep that in mind. … and try not to make you regret making the offer." Because. well. He /is/ Tommy. "…and lead the way." Pause. "Or do you still teleport? That's faster. Faster is good." Just in case, he's going to grab his remaining food. He'll take all that to-go!


Billy hesitates, and looks around, momentarily clueless, and he throws his hands up in frustration a moment later, "Shit I want to give you my email address or cellphone number and what the hell." How do people in the stone ages manage to stay in touch? Billy has no idea, still. Somehow they seem to but it is beyond me. So he rises, heads over and grabs a pair of napkins, and is back. Fortunately, he had a pen. "This is my number." He passes the napkin over to Tommy.

"I remember… doing more. Changing things. But not specifically. I have no idea how it works. Sometimes things just happen. Strange gets super pissed at me when they do, which is totally unfair because really I don't know how I do these things."

"I'll call you." Billy nods, "Gimmie your number, I'll call you and we'll head over to the Sanctum and meet. And no, its not a prison. I don't know what it is, its some mystic mumbojumbo." Billy makes handwaving gestures which he thinks look 'magical', which probably would make Doctor Strange facepalm if he saw.

"And yeh I totally teleport. So I'll make the introduction. Tomorrow. God I'm so glad to see you man. Sometimes I think I'm going nuts."


"Give me a sec."

With that said, Tommy's gone. He's not gone for long, though, just a second or two, and he's back, and if he was successful at snatching it? Already writing down his number on the other napkin with Billy's pen. Then both are offered back, Billy's number tucked away.

"That's the number at Frank's; that's where I am this week." There's a part of him that wants to go to college /just/ for the fact that it means he'd be able to be in a dorm rather than at either of his parents' homes.

"Don't worry about Strange. When he realizes that I'm on board, I get the feeling he'll have plenty more to deal with… and God help him if he tries to set /rules./" There's a grin that crosses across Tommy's lips that just /promises/ trouble on the horizon.

"I'll make sure I'm home and get the phone first, then." Tommy decides; it's better that way. Frank doesn't want to be bothered about things like that. "It's good to see you too, Billy… and I'm right there with you. I didn't know what was the real and what wasn't… but I think I'm starting to get a handle on it now. Hopefully." A nod to that. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, then." There's a bit of bracing in his form, if Billy's watching. Tommy's getting ready to run; but he's waiting in case there's anything else of importance to say.


Billy just lifts his hand, and with a quick grin, there's a ripple of reality around him and he falls into a perfectly Billy sized hole and vanishes. That's him saying: gotcha, dude. Talk soon.

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