Ty wasn't sure where he could turn, or if anyone could even help him with his problem. He'd been having more visions from the things he'd found in 'his' room at Sanctuary, and he wasn't sure if he was going crazy or if he was seeing the future, or what the hell was going on. But, he found an add for a clinic, and it was FREE!

He still didn't know if it would do anything, but he was willing to try anything to explain--or better yet get rid of--his visions of an older him, strange women, and six foot cockroaches. He tugged on his leather jacket, put his new phone and wallet in his pockets, grabbed his knife that he hoped he never had to use but he had to admit it made him feel alot safer, then made his way to the address.

Walking inside the building, he felt himself get nervous as he filled out the customary paperwork and found himself pausing at birthday. He knew it was in April, but he found himself writing 1992, and that couldn't have been right. He knew he was sixteen, so he did some math, wrote down the correct year, and kept going. Something was very weird here, but that seemed to be the norm lately, didn't it?

At the bottom, where it asked what his ailment was, he specified his mutation as being able to see the past by touching objects, and then wrote about the visions and the broken memories and things that he didn't understand, though he wound up having to write smaller and smaller to keep from needing another sheet. Once he had that handed in, he sat in a chair, looking at the floor and attempting to avoid eye contact with literally anyone else in the room.

Part of him was starting to think this was a horrible idea, and the other part thought he was an idiot.

It had actually been a busy day! It was encouraging that, as of late, word had spread about the clinic he had helped found, and furthermore, people weren't only just coming to see the rest of the doctors! Some were coming to see him as well. After little Tom, he'd had a few more young mutants come in, but he'd really struck it popular with those with visible mutations.

He helped them cope. It could be quite powerful, sitting there as a man who had gained a very visible mutation, and continued to get educated, and became a professional. It showed many people who had given up hope that there could be a future. He took a sip of his coffee and placed it off to the side. They were reaching typical lull times, when most people were at work. It gave him an opportunity to study his notes and get his paperwork ready.

All of the other therapists had gone on break already.

His antennae perked up as his intercom clicked in and the rather rushed voice of a young woman chimed in. "H-hey, sorry Mr. Samson. Another- uh- gosh, where did I put that file- there! Another visitor. Everyone else is gone for- uh- for lunch. Can you see him?" He tilted his head a bit, and then walked on over to his intercom, letting his little chest hands clean his face as he went.

"That's perfectly fine, Mrs. Bradbury. I always have time for someone who needs help!" He chirped back in his intellectual drone, and turned to sit on his chair and get his notepad ready.

___

"Hi, uhm... Frank? No, no, that was the last one- Ty? The Dr.Samson will see you, now. B- Bring in your clip board and give it to him when you walk in. Thank you for waiting." A young woman with equally red hair and a disheveled, appearance waved him toward the third office door on the left before she walked back to a messy desk and got to trying to look for something she'd lost.

As the door opened, Doc spoke in a calm voice. "Come on in! Have a seat in the most comfortable looking chair, my friend!" The office was strangely decorated. It wasn't cluttered, but there were odd things, such as a shoe nailed to the wall where a picture might hang, and a banana on top of the phone rack, that might cause someone to look twice.

"Tell me, young man. How can I help you today?"

Ty just sat in his seat, looking at the clock on the wall, then at his phone, trying not to make eye contact with the other people who were also waiting. But, he was committed now, and there was no turning back. His mind eventually wandered, picking through the random memories from things he'd picked up from his room.

"Hi, uhm... Frank? No, no, that was the last one- Ty? The Dr.Samson will see you, now. B- Bring in your clip board and give it to him when you walk in. Thank you for waiting." With a nod to the redheaded woman, he stood to his feet and made his way to the room as directed. When he walked in, he froze. It was a giant roach. There was one of those in his visions. And they weren't good visions. They were rather scary.

Taking a breath, he sat down, visibly shaken now, and he looked at the giant roach.

"Okay, so I have this mutation where I can touch an object and see its past. Easy enough. But recently I moved into Sanctuary, found out I was....already on file, and there was a room full of stuff. I used my mutation on it and I got...fragmented memories. They all featured someone that looked like me but older, and there were things I wasn't involved in..." He took another breath.

"You were in them. You gave the person whom I guess was me? A knife. Gave the person people to kill. Made them--me--do horrible things. And there are more like that featuring other people that I also don't recognize. I...I don't know what's going on. Am I seeing the future, an alternate timeline, do I have an older doppleganger out there? Or am I just losing my mind?" He buried his hand in his palms after unloading all of that information.

The already somewhat pale boy went ghost white as soon as he walked into the room. The doctor nodded, as if to say 'yes, I am a giant cockroach.' Many people gave him a similar look when they walked into his room, but after a moment about 75 percent of them tended to acclimate.

The young man came and sat down, and the giant bug tilted his head a bit as he grabbed the chart. Odd, the look in his eyes told him the blanching might not have been as simple as the usual case. He got to reading the chart as Ty started speaking, but soon he'd abandoned the paper and was staring right at him.

An ever Faithful Pet... Time and distance are but distractions when destiny is at play. He shook the strange thought away. Where did that come from?

Mr.Fisher finished speaking, and doc leaned back, staring at him. "Mr... Fisher." He said, looking down at the chart. "The good news is I don't believe you are losing your mind. I have had a strange increase in people coming in and insisting they have traveled forward in time. This, however, is a first for me." He looked up again, antennae twitching with apprehension.

"We'll start at the beginning. Have you noticed any inconsistencies in the current date, and the date you recall it being last." As he spoke he reached into a drawer in the table next to him and pulled out a composite notebook, opening it and reviewing what he knew about the him from this place.

He stopped, and looked up again. "If... I were to describe a room to you, would you be able to recognize it from your visions?"

"Honestly...I don't remember. I do know that when I write my birthdate, the year trips me up. I want to write 1992, but that would make me twenty-seven, and...look at me, that's clearly not the case, right?" he said, not having the first idea what was going through the doctor-roach's head, but still it seemed like he may be able to help.

"I do know, a few weeks ago, I woke up on a park bench. I had no idea what happened the night before, no wallet, no phone, no nothing. My power wouldn't even work on the clothes I was wearing, even though I didn't recognize them. And then I was taken to Sanctuary only to find that I was already on file? Even though I didn't recognize anything in the room...as I mentioned earlier." He let out a sigh.

"Though I guess it kind of helps knowing that I'm not the only one who seems to be going through this...My question is....how do I fix it?"

The Doctor nodded in confirmation as he stated dates seemed off. Perhaps it was some sort of mass psychosis, then?

He listened patiently as he mentioned finding a space at the sanctuary that... already belonged to him? Odd. In regards to how he would fix it... Well, the giant bug merely shrugged. "I cannot help with that, though I may be able to take you to a place were you might find answers."

He folded his comp notebook neatly, and stood, placing it under his arm. "Did you see a room in your visions... A living room, with an old, green couch?" He listed more details, speaking of the apartment that the one named Roach used to live in... Where he'd found this universes' version of him... deceased.

"If your power works as you explain it does, you may yet answer some questions for me as well." He walked over to a hat rack and pulled off the sister shoe to the one nailed to the wall, placing it on his head, and grabbing his coat as well. After a beat, he looked back. "That is... If you don't mind a little adventure."

"A room?" he paused, brushing his hair out of his face with a gloved hand. "Actually...some of them did take place in that room. All the ones that did had you in them. Or...someone that looks like you? Fuck, I don't know. They had a giant roach and somebody that looks like an older version of me." Ty sighed deeply. Every time he explained it sounded more and more confusing. Maybe he wasn't going crazy; he was more than likely already there.

Ty stood to his feet, stretching as the dotor put a....shoe on his head? Okay. Sure. Why the hell not. "Well, I'm always up for an adventure," he said with a mischievous smirk as he prepared to follow Doc wherever they were headed. Besides, maybe it was the visions, or maybe it was some unseen force but...something about the two of them working together....


Something about it just seemed right.

Yes, yes it all made sense. Based on what he'd gathered, the Roach had cohorts throughout the city. Perhaps this young man was related to one somehow? Maybe he was one, and he had, indeed, traveled forward through time. Far stranger things had happened, after all. He was from a different universe. Even so, with his ability, and closeness to all of this, he may be the final piece of the puzzle in solving just who Roach was.

It wasn't a long walk, though it wasn't a short one, either. "Mr. Fisher, it is at this point I must admit that I am new in town, relatively. New in universe, actually. I came from the alternate world that joined with this one a while back. Though, I suspect you have no idea what I am talking about in that regard. Asking you to suspend your disbelief, I would state plainly that anyone who lived in the universe I came from also had an alternate self in this one. In this world, my alternate self was called... Roach. Does the name ring a bell?"

He turned a corner and oriented himself for a moment. Ty might notice they were getting rather close to the sanctuary. "Ah, yes. This way. Roach... From what I gather, Was not as balanced as I. Where I sought to control the more base urges that come with this form, he embraced them to... startling extremes."

The sanctuary came into sight, but rather than walk toward it, he hung a left into an old, tall apartment building. "This way, then." Several flights of stairs later they came to a worn red door. He opened it, and stood in the hall for a moment.

Home, sweet home.

"I... Haven't come back here since soon after I arrived in this universe. I found him here... Dead. His body is gone, though the place is still a little... Messy. Perhaps something will stand out for you to use your power on?" He invited the young man in first.

"I missed that one, but in all fairness, considering the theories I've bounced around in my head about my power right now...anything is possible, right?" he said with a shrug.

"Not outside of my visions, no. But in the few scrambled sound bits I've gotten from them, the names Ty, Mr. Fisher and Roach get tossed around alot. It's...confusing as hell, honestly."

Ty noticed how close they were getting to sanctuary, but then they turned into an apartment building and then climbed a ton of flights of stairs. "This place gives me an odd feeling of deja-vu..." Ty muttered as he looked at the red door.

With a nod, Ty peered into the room, and slowly stepped inside. At first the stench made him cringe; this place hadn't been touched in awhile, it seemed. Much worse than his room at sanctuary had been, too. Looking around the room, Ty dug through the mess, finding something that made him shy away a bit, but he figured it would work. It was a handgun, but it hadn't been used or properly taken care of in ages, it seemed.

"This is as good a place to start as any," he said, looking over at the Doc before he removed one of his gloves and let his bare hand touch the cold metal, closing his eyes and letting his power show him the way.

"Indeed, my boy, anything is indeed possible." My Boy. Odd, he didn't know this young man well enough to say something like that. Where had that come from?

The Doctor nodded as Ty mentioned a feeling of Deja Vu. Why was it so that he felt the same, now? Odd. It was a feeling to explore at a later time, though. They were headed here for a reason! He would have to return to his office soon, else he would miss the evening rush. He couldn't leave his poor patients out in the cold, or worse, in the care of that young upstart.

The search of the apartment was interesting. While young Mr.Fisher dug around, Doc found himself staring at... a lamp shade? Why did it make him feel happy? An old TV set. He reached out and touched the dial on it. Fondness. He took off his hat, placing the shoe on a handy coat rack with a different shoe on it already.

It really was a strange feeling. He looked up when the young man produced a gun, flinching a bit before recognizing the calmness of the situation. Oh, how he disdained weapons meant for killing. Still, the one called Roach by all reports did not. "Y-Yes. Careful with it, though, Young man." Ah, yes, Young man, a much better thing to call him.

The boy removed his glove and touched the weapon.


---

At what point was a gun, a gun? In the case of the powers of one Ty Fisher, It was when it was fresh off the factory line! A pristine gloved hand tested the action, found it passed inspection, and boxed it carefully, neatly, to avoid finger prints. There it lay for some time, a young weapon with so, so much potential!

And then someone purchased it! Simon. Lots of happy memories with Simon! Then, Simon put it on top of a shelf one day, and left it forever. Could a gun feel sad? A new pair of hands found it before too long. One Tyler Fisher's nervous hands. Plenty of interesting things happened, until a faithful moment in which, with only three bullets to its name, it fired upon a woman moping on a fire escape, and then fell... It hit the grating of the fire escape, and then slid, slid, sliiiiiiid.

And it fell to the earth below.

Was that to be its fate, then? Left to rust in an alley way ditch in New York City?

It seemed so, for hours, until... A figure danced into the alley. Grasping a folded up umbrella it swayed from left to right, taking a few steps one way, pirouetting and drifting to the other as it made its way closer, and came into focus. The Giant cockroach ceased humming a tune he'd had on his mind, placing a set of hands on his hips and huffing.

"Really, I must teach that troublesome young man to clean up after himself!" A buggy hand reached down and grasped the weapon, pulling back the slide to check if it was loaded. It was. "You, though, you are a treasure, aren't you? Yes, I think I shall name you.... Reginald! Come Reginald! We have much work to do!"

Indeed, they did. It was the beginning of a strange, but wonderful partnership! Reginald spent much his time inside of a comfy shell, coming out to be cleaned occasionally, but more often to shoot someone! Plenty of times, too! Shooting people crossing the street, shooting people looking at father funny, shooting people who didn't look at father funny when they should have! Reginald was a busy gun! Why, one example was particularly neat.

Reggie was already out of the nice warm shell. Warm air rushed about as he was waved around in a hand that talked casually. "Yes, that is indeed why I am here, Miss. I really do wish to kill your husband!" The bug sat at a kitchen table in a small suburban home, his legs crossed before him as he spoke to three people, a woman and two teenagers, all tied to chairs. and staring at him in terror, their mouths taped over several times.

"You see, he and his partner are the only two loose ends left, and might I say, they have done some... very good work for the cause!" He poked at a phone with his tiny chest hands, and showed the family the video of one Mrs. Maxine from Wolf news getting knocked around by several police officers. "Yes, it's from this morning! Neat isn't it!" He tilted his head as a little bug skittered up and spoke to him.

"Oh, that'll be him! Great! I'm going to have him watch me eat all of you, and then kill him! It's sure to be a good time!"

The bug danced to the front door as a key was put into the lock. He then opened the door, and Reginald got to put a bullet in each knee cap!

He then kept his promise to the family. Reginald got to watch from the kitchen counter, and then got to finish the weeping officer off!

He stayed warm in his shell case for a time after that, until he was produced to father singing a song. "Gun sandwitch, gonna, gonna eat a gun sammich~ Gunna gunna eat. a. guuuuun sammich!" As he slathered Reginald in Mayonnaise and placed him inbetween moldy bread slices. All went dark for a moment as a bunch of gnawing and a bit of a crunch was followed by an angry screech, and Reginald was tossed behind the couch into a pile of refuse, punishment for chipping his father's tooth.

There, Reginald sat, as lonely as an inanimate object could be, until one Tyler Fisher picked it up again.

'My boy?'Why did that phrase in that voice ring like a bell? Why did it feel..right? It was almost like he could hear that phrase in his head, over and over again. It was familiar, endearing yet threatening.

"Yeah, I am. It's rusted to hell but I'm bein' careful. I hate these ****ing things, but it's no doubt seen some ****, yeah?"

When his hand touched the cold, unforgiving metal of the gun, his powers worked as usual: No skipping around, no stabbing pain, no fragments. Just an instantaneous and uninterrupted info dump from the factory line to this moment right now. When it had finished, Ty was pale, and his head was throbbing. He sat on the couch, resting his head on his gloved hands before setting the gun gently on the table. He took a breath.

"Okay, so I'm assuming that's other you in that memory. This is the gun I--or the other me? Hell I don't know Some redhead who looks like an older me, was given this gun by other you, to shoot whom I assume was my? on again, off again, girlfriend. And then...it was put on a sandwich?"

He shuddered, pulling a bottle of aspirin out of his jacket pocket and taking two pills dry. "Ugh. Whoever these alternate selves of ours were...they were pretty tight, it seems. At least for awhile, from what I gather. And...they/we have done some pretty questionable shit. Doesn't really explain much about the situation now though, does it?" he rambled, not once looking up from where his head rested on his hands, icy blue eyes staring at the floor to keep the room from spinning.

Doc nodded at the... weary appearance of the weapon before them. It smelled like old Mayo.

He watched with incredible interest as the boy experienced the memories of the object. It was a fascinating ability, with incredible connotations. Walls did have ears, Young Mr.Fisher here was proof. He went pale, and Doc reached out a supporting hand, guiding him gently to sit on the couch.

The Ginger relayed the story of the weapon, and Doc paused, looking down at the weapon.

It does look quite delicious, doesn't it?

His antennae twitched nervously. Why was he hungry all of a sudden? Focus, Gregory!

The giant bug stood, stepping toward the one window into the apartment, and looking out at the sanctuary a stones throw away. "It does seem so... I have been trying to learn more about the other me, and have unfortunately run into many road blocks. To start, many of his bugs avoid me. I have had to develop my own since arriving." He looked back.

"Believe it or not, I think this may tell us more than you know. I have two theories. The first. You came from the alternate universe like myself. That we can prove, or disprove easily. The second... People are not time traveling, but rather... Somehow reverting to a prior form. A younger self, if you would. It would make sense, if you consider the facts... A woman came to me the other day, inexplicably having woken up in a different time, much like you, but she had a wallet on her. In that wallet, photos of her and her family, older... Identification." He nodded. "Yes, I think the latter is the most likely."

He turned back, steepling both sets of his hands. "Mr.Fisher. You have been De-Aged."

He let it sink in for a second before adding in. "The real question is... How, and what now?"

Everything felt so surreal. He was seeing things that happened in the past, but to other versions of them, he felt like his very soul was trying to leave his body, what with the headache combined with his stomach deciding to turn cartwheels. Plus, the visions hit him all at once, but the memories of the visions stayed with him and took time to comb through.

So many people he didn't recognize now occupied a space in his brain. People he'd never met but another version had. Wait...he was pretty sure there were memories of Lenna. She was...different, and she didn't kiss him. Part of him wanted to sort this out, but the other part just wanted to go about his life the way he remembered it. Not...not that he remembered it.

"Mr. Fisher, you have been DeAged."

"What. The. Hell." He looked at the giant roach as if he had sprouted another head or something, but Ty was starting to realize that maybe 'weird' was just something he was going to have to get used to. "That's a good question. From what I can tell...from my visions I grow up to be kinda a dickhead," he said with a sheepish grin.

"I guess for starters I can try to...not be that guy? Not so much liberal killing, actually keep a girlfriend, that sorta thing," he said with a shrug.

He felt... a little odd. It was a strange, mercurial sensation that fell about him as he looked down at the boy talking to him. It was odd, he thought, he hadn't felt such a sensation since not long after he'd awoken to discover he was a mutant. He placed up his usual walls over the impending wave of compulsions, and looked back down at Ty.

The boy called the older version of himself a dickhead. Why... Why did he feel somewhat... offended by that? The walls. Was that a crack? He stayed perfectly still as he tended to them, patching them with mortar. The visualization of the process in his head allowed him to work through the bit of self therapy easier.

Odd, though, why did the walls keep cracking in his vision? He was running out of mortar.

The boy said he would do it again... differently. Not. Be. That. Guy. Not be Ty?

The walls collapsed.

"Oh, my dear boy... You cannot change who you are so easily. To fight against one's nature is to cause internal stress that damages the psyche. True freedom is found in embracing who you are fully. Not being ashamed." Was that... a bit of an English accent?

Ah, there were were, walls back up, nice and tidy. He was staring down at Ty still... Had he been speaking? No, he'd blacked out for a moment, hadn't he? Odd.

"Ahem. Anyway, it seems we have run out of time. I need to be off to my next appointment! Mr. Fisher, I think it would be beneficial for us both if we met again. Would you consider stopping by again in the near future?" He started gathering up his things.

Doc spoke again, but this time there was something about it. Something about not only what was said, but the voice. There was a more menacing tone, and a bit of an English accent. Doc hadn't been using one of those before. But the words...he was encouraging Ty not to change? To become the future he saw?

The boy was pale again, this time processing the giant bug's words. In fact...he'd definitely heard that voice before.

""By the way... My name is Gregory Samson... Most people call me Roach... Not quite sure why... And you are?""
"You really should cover that eye..."
"I'm sure you haven't forgotten your objective, my boy. After all, you're sleeping with it."

And then, Doc was talking normal again. "Yeah....right," Ty said. Oh hell no. I'm gonna figure this out on my own...

As the roach gathered his things, Ty pushed himself to his feet, eased his way out the door, and briskly made his way down the steps and as soon as his sneakered feet hit asphalt, he took off running for Sanctuary. For home.

Somehow, this therapy session only left him with more questions.