Mixing a new show with an old one. I don't even know why I do these things... Got handed this crossover idea, and started getting too many ideas of my own. But I like to go back to old shows sometimes, and Early Edition was a great one that seems like good crossover material. I guess we'll find out.

In case you're interested: I decided to pull Gary out of time a bit to make this story work. I could have just changed EE to a modern setting AU but I like the "old fashioned" feel of the 90's for him. (The 90's doesn't really seem that long ago... really I don't think of anything as real history if it's after the 50's, but anyway...) Those sweaters, man. No one else could pull off those sweaters.

Important: For Arrow, it's the end of season 2 with a couple of changes. SPOILERS! Read no further if you haven't seen season 2 yet. So, for this story, Malcolm Merlin died when Oliver thought he killed him in the first place. That frees up Thea to be a little more normal for the sake of this plot. The major intrigue in Starling City has died down, but the Arrow still patrols here and there to protect the innocent. The Black Canary is watching over Laurel and her family; Roy has become a normal guy again.


It was 6:30 am in Chicago. Gary Hobson smacked his radio alarm and pulled a pillow over his head.

"MEOW." THWACK

Gary groaned. "Okay..." he mumbled into his other pillow.

"MEOW!"

"Okay," he said louder, rolling over and sitting up. "Can't a guy get a day off? Just once? How 'bout a half day, huh?" He staggered to the door and opened it.

An orange cat ran through the door and Gary picked up the waiting newspaper. The front page headline and accompanying picture told him right away that today would be a long and hard one.

Starling City Devastated By School Shooting

"School shooting," Gary murmured as he closed the door and headed for the all-important coffee pot. He read the story as the coffee brewed.

It was an ordinary day at Starling Technical College until junior Mike Johansen brought a gun to his two o'clock physics class. The class and its teacher was held hostage for nearly an hour before a SWAT team rushed the room - by that time, five were dead, and another four wounded. Survivors report that Starling City's local vigilante known as The Arrow intervened, but a deadly standoff did not bring the hostage situation to an end. Police have neither confirmed nor denied the rumor that the vigilante was a sixth body taken dead from the scene. If this speculation is correct, Starling may soon know the identity of its erstwhile protector.

One of the wounded survivors was Gabriel Cleveland, Johansen's physics teacher. Witnesses say Cleveland attempted to stop Johansen after the first victim was killed, but instead he took a bullet in his right side. Cleveland suffered a fractured rib and damaged lung, but is expected to recover. Five students, including Johansen, were not so fortunate. At this time, the press is not releasing the names of the other deceased students, as loved ones may not yet have been informed of the incident.

Gary went to his phone and dialed the operator.

"Meow."

Gary rolled his eyes. "I'll feed you in a second. The sooner I get this taken care of, the better." The operator picked up. "Yes, I want to place a long-distance call to Starling City. I need to reach someone at Starling Tech. That's the one. Just the administration office is fine. Thanks."

"Meow!"

"Shh! I'm on the phone." Gary waited to be connected.

"MEOW!"

Suddenly, Gary decided that there might have been something he missed. Maybe there was another story, an even more urgent one. After all, the shooting wouldn't happen until two o'clock at least. He began flipping the newspaper's pages.

"Thank you for calling Starling Technical College. Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line until an administrator can assist you."

"Meow."

"Yeah, well, I don't see what's so pressing." Gary continued to skim headlines. "There's nothing here." Some annoying music came over the line.

"Mrow," the cat insisted.

Gary flipped back to the front page. "What?"

"Mew."

"What?!"

"Thank you for holding. My name is Leslie; how may I help you?"

Just then, Gary's eyes fell on the newspaper's date. He was used to it by now - seeing tomorrow's date on today's paper. But he certainly hadn't expected this. "Uh... I wanted to... um... I'm sorry, I just found the information I needed. Thanks anyway." He hung up the phone.

"What's this?" he demanded of the cat. "What the hell is this?"

The cat sniffed carelessly and went to its bowl.

"Yeah, fine. Milk first, questions later.


It was Saturday, so Gary wasn't surprised to find Marissa Clark already at McGinty's, getting ready for business. He counted himself fortunate to have a friend that would always listen to his problems, no matter how bizarre they got.

"So, in the paper," Gary told her, "it says there's going to be a shooting at Starling Technical College."

"Like Starling City? Wow. What are you going to do - call posing as some sort of official and get them to do a surprise contraband search?"

"I was going to do something along those lines, but then I saw the date."

"Tomorrow?"

"No... twenty-fifteen."

"What?"

"Yeah, something like twenty years from now, this is gonna happen. So I wanna know why I'm getting this paper today."

"Are there any other major catastrophes in there for that day?"

"No, and that's really weird. Heart-warming local color, normal sports lineups... even the obits are practically cheerful. It's just this."

"Okay, there must be a reason the paper is telling you this now."

"Such as?"

Gary knew Marissa's thinking face well, and she was wearing it now. "Maybe something happens today that will change the course of the shooter's life. Maybe if you change what happens today, he won't grow up to be a killer."

"So... I just call up this baby boy named Mike Johansen, tell him to be good, and everything will turn out okay?"

"No, but..." Marissa frowned. "You might have to go there."

"To Starling City?"

"Mhm."

"Marissa... there are like fifteen states between here and there!" Gary exaggerated.

"I think it's more like four..."

"I probably won't be able to get a flight at such short notice. What if I can't get back here in time for tomorrow's paper, huh? What then?"

"Then I'll get a hold of your mom or someone and we'll handle it."

"You and my mom?" Gary couldn't help a little chuckle. "Yeah... no, I don't think so."

"Look, if the paper is telling you that this needs to be handled today, you need to do something about it today, right?"

"That's... logical."

"So, you have to go."

"What about -"

"I'll run McGinty's for you."

"Yeah, but -"

"And I'll feed the cat."

"But what if -"

"It'll be fine. Call me from the airport when you've got a flight booked."

Gary stared at her open-mouthed for a few moments. Finally, he swallowed. "Okay, fine. But only because there's nothing else pressing in the paper... and I have no idea what else to do."


Next thing he knew, Gary was at the airport, ticket in hand. He had called Marissa and reminded her of several things she already knew, including that he thought this was a mistake. Then it was time to board. He was in the air before nine o'clock.

It had been a rough night, and Gary took advantage of the chance to get a little extra sleep. He didn't wake up until his non-stop flight was about to touch down.

I must have really been tired, he thought as he took notice of his surroundings as if for the first time. Everyone seemed strange and unfamiliar, the plane seemed like it had been in service a little too long... if he'd noticed that when he boarded, he probably wouldn't have slept so easily. It seemed like the flight had gone quickly, too. Sure, it was only about a two-hour flight and he had slept through most of it, but it still seemed a little weird.

As he deplaned, he thought that none of the flight attendants looked like the one who had explained the safety regulations at the beginning of the flight. The Starling City airport was also a little bigger than he had expected.

Well, I'm here... now what? I have to find some folks called Johansen, I guess. Hope it's not a common name around here.

Gary found his way to a pay phone and flipped through the phone book. "Johansen," he muttered quietly, turning to the J's. Aaron and Jane. He consulted the paper. That's them. He wrote down the address and as an afterthought took the whole pad of paper left for taking messages. On the cab ride over he started thinking up a cover story he could use.

"From out of town?" the driver asked.

"Yeah. Chicago."

"Ah, the windy city. What brings you to Starling?"

"Uh... business."

The cabby glanced in the mirror at him, and Gary thought he looked skeptical. "What kinda business?"

"Department of Statistics."

"Oh, yeah? What's that like?"

"It can be interesting... but it's a lot of polls and surveys, and people don't like taking the time to answer questions."

The cabby seemed satisfied. The ride didn't last long, and soon they were in front of a medium-sized house with a neat picket fence around it.

"You want me to wait?"

"Nah, I'll work this whole block before I'm ready to ride anywhere else. How much I owe you?"

"Eight-fifty."

Gary stared at the display in the front of the cab. "Eight-fifty... that seems a little steep," he said, digging out his wallet. "What's the cost of living like in Starling?"

"Oh, about like most places, I guess... didn't the recession hit Chicago?"

"Recession...?" Gary frowned at the newspaper. "Hey, you're gonna think I'm a head case, but I just drew a blank... what year is it?" he asked, handing over his fare.

"Twenty-fifteen."

"Wh..." Maybe he thought I said what time is it, and he answered in military time. No, that doesn't make sense... it's morning. No, he was saying the year. "Twenty-fifteen... boy, time flies."

"Sure does."

"Hey, um... you know what, I may not do the whole block after all. It'll depend on how the first one goes. Why don't you stick around for a minute?"

The cabby agreed to wait and Gary walked up the neat walkway toward the house.

2015. Did I seriously travel almost twenty years into the future? Can I get back? Does that mean that today's the day... He knocked on the door and it wasn't long before a man answered it. The man looked about fifty, so that settled it. Mike Johansen wasn't a baby. He was a college-age shooter, and he'd be walking into class that afternoon with a gun.

"Yes? How may I help you?" the man asked.

"Mister Johansen? I'm from the Department of Statistics. If you have a minute I just want to ask you a few questions."

The man checked his watch. "I can spare a minute, Mister...?"

"Hobson. Gary Hobson." Gary shook the man's hand. "First, how long have you lived in Starling City?"

"Fifteen years. My wife was born here."

"I see." Gary took notes on the paper he'd taken from the pay phone. "Any children?"

"Two: Mike and Linda. She was born right before we moved here."

"Uhuh... and how old is Mike?"

"Twenty years old. He's a student at Starling Tech."

"Oh, you must be very proud of him."

"We are... it's not all easy, of course."

"Of course. College life..." Gary shrugged in sympathy. "I remember my college days. Homework that never quite got finished, the food, the roommates... is your son a dorm student?"

"Yes. We moved him into the dorm this year because we hoped it would take some of the hassle out of his day. Getting ready here each morning and driving over - it's just a bit much, you know? He's an engineering student."

"I get that. I was an accounting major. Nothing but respect for engineers. Is he making good grades?"

"So far. He's got a scholarship, so he has to maintain a high average."

"That must be a lot of pressure."

"It certainly is."

Gary tapped his pen against his chin. This was the tricky part. "This has nothing to do with the survey, but... just out of curiosity, have you taken any other measures to help him deal with the stress? Other than moving him into the dorm, I mean?"

"No..." Johansen was eying him in a way very familiar to Gary: the "Is there a point to this, or are you just nosy?" look.

"Well, it's just..." Gary thought fast. "See, when I was an accounting student, I had a college math class with an engineering student, and we were pretty good friends," he invented. "But he was under a lot of pressure from his family, and competition in the class was pretty strong, too. My friend, he actually tried to kill himself."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah... he's better now, but it makes you think - there could be other kids like that out there, ready to snap any time. Kids are under so much stress these days, you know?"

"Mm."

"Maybe they can't all get counseling on a regular basis, but sometimes I think if someone close to them could just give them a little encouragement... you know, give them a call and tell them they're behind them... say they're proud of them... My friend's folks never called, and I think it could have made a huge difference."

"Maybe."

Gary cleared his throat and looked back down at his notepad. "Sorry, where was I?"

He went on with a few more bogus questions and then wrapped it up.

"Thanks for your time, Mister Johansen. I really appreciate it."

Johansen shook Gary's hand again, and he walked back to the waiting cab. He flipped the paper back open as he walked.

"Come on, change," he whispered, watching the front page headline. "Change..." It wasn't enough. He sighed and leaned on the cab's passenger side door, looking in through the open window. "Looks like this isn't a good area for what I need after all," he said. "Could you take me over to the college, Starling Tech?"

"Sure, hop in."

Gary got back into the cab, noticing a heavy, sick feeling that he realized had been growing in his stomach since the cabby told him the year. Here I go to find the kid who's planning to shoot up his classroom... I don't know if I can ever get home, and I have no idea what I'm dealing with. What am I supposed to do? He stared at the paper some more, willing it to change, but nothing did. Not a single word.

He wondered who the vigilante in the article was. He hoped whoever it was wouldn't make things more difficult for him. Things were going to be plenty complicated enough without some hot-head trying to take the law into his own hands. But then again... that's kind of what I am, isn't it?


Hope you liked the first chapter. If you did, I'd appreciate some feedback.