Written for the prompt - Derek rediscovering something about the world pre-Doomsday (345 words)

He doesn't know what made him come here, of all places and now, of all times. But he is here. The park doesn't look all that different from the last time he saw it, more than fifteen years ago and still four years in the future (give you one mother of a headache, if you let it). Maybe a little cleaner, a little newer, the trees not so tall and the Little League diamond not so soft around the edges, but it's still the park he used to bring Kyle to when they were kids. The safe house is only a ten-minute walk from here.

In the distance, a woman pushes a small child in a swing, the kid's legs pumping out of synch with the sway of the swing, threatening to put it into a tailspin. Just beyond that a couple of guys throw a frisbee, playing keep-away with a shaggy black dog – Derek hears the frustrated barking, sometimes louder, sometimes softer, depending on the dog's relative orientation.

Leaning back on the park bench, he smiles, just a little, thinks, We should get a dog for the safe house. Added security, if nothing else. But the truth is, he just wants a dog. They don't ask questions and they know who to trust and who to not.

"Hey, Derek! Race you!"

For a moment, his heart stops in his chest, and then it pounds double time. There's a roaring in his ears as he turns toward the childish voice, terrified that he's about to come face to face with… himself.

Not twenty feet away, a pair of boys runs past him toward that crisp, new baseball diamond, the taller of the two just about to overtake the smaller. Kyle. He can't look away; neither can he stay here. Not now. But he feels as though he's paralyzed.

"Hey, Derek," Sayles says as he drops onto the bench, breaking the spell. The other man frowns. "You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Derek stands, feeling a little sick. "See you at the house."