They were lucky that the instructions were kept with the machine.
If they hadn't been, they would not even be having this argument right now, because Hank Pym was dead - of old age, shockingly enough, when everyone else around them was dying left and right from exposure to the elements, or conflicts with other survivors, or starvation. Pym died toward the start of the Burning, but he had already been working on the machine prior to that.
Thank goodness for scientists and their endless curiosity.
Regardless - the argument:
"He's known me longer," Foggy insists. "It would be weirder if I came back and started acting different."
"But you know him better than anyone, too. And we don't even know if this thing will erase our younger selves when it sends us back. You might not be able to interact with him at all. Not as yourself, anyway."
Foggy raises his eyebrows. "And how else would I interact with him? With those super senses of his, there's no way he wouldn't know who I am if we met face to face, and there's no reason he would trust me if I tried to contact him over the phone or through the internet." Shaking his head, he tells her, "It has to be you." Even though he misses Matt desperately. Even though all he wants is to see him again. (Warning people about the Burning sounds great, and is arguably far more important, but Foggy isn't Matt. He has no world-saving complex. If he goes - if he does this - he will be doing it for him, and not for anyone else. And that's the number one reason on his list that he shouldn't be the one to go, and the number one reason he doesn't think he can admit to Karen.)
"You're wrong about this, Foggy, and if we don't get this right-"
"Then the world will probably fall apart all over again, and you can make me do it the next time."
She winces. This is something they've worried about. The very real possibility that this has been done before, and theirs is the second, or third, or fourth, or nth timeline. But they can't think about it too much, or they will go crazy, and nothing will get done. They at least know that they have to try. "Don't joke about that," she tells him quietly. Lately, she is never anything but quiet. Yet another sign among many that she is slipping away. "It's not funny."
It kind of is, though, in a horrifying way.
But that's not what she needs to hear. "Yeah. Sorry."
"It's fine."
It's not fine.
He closes his eyes and then sighs. "You really think I should be the one to go?"
"I really do."
Opening his eyes, he nods, because he is tired, and she is tired, and she deserves to win something, even if it is just an argument with Foggy. They've both lost too much, lately.
He'll just have to hope that seeing everything the way it was will remind him that there are more pressing concerns than spending every waking minute with Matt, because otherwise, this will all have been pointless.
"All right, yeah. I'll do it."
She lets out a soft huff of relief, and Foggy knows that he has made the right decision, at least for Karen, if not for anyone or anything else. "Good. Than you, Foggy."
There is a part of him that wants to say 'Don't thank me yet,' but they're still not talking about the possibility of multiple timelines, so he refrains, settling instead for reaching for her hand and squeezing it softly. The fine bones beneath his own feel like marching orders.
He might fail. There is a depressingly real chance of that. But he will try very hard not to.
Mini Fill - Not a Saint, Not a Sacrificial Lamb
If they hadn't been, they would not even be having this argument right now, because Hank Pym was dead - of old age, shockingly enough, when everyone else around them was dying left and right from exposure to the elements, or conflicts with other survivors, or starvation. Pym died toward the start of the Burning, but he had already been working on the machine prior to that.
Thank goodness for scientists and their endless curiosity.
Regardless - the argument:
"He's known me longer," Foggy insists. "It would be weirder if I came back and started acting different."
"But you know him better than anyone, too. And we don't even know if this thing will erase our younger selves when it sends us back. You might not be able to interact with him at all. Not as yourself, anyway."
Foggy raises his eyebrows. "And how else would I interact with him? With those super senses of his, there's no way he wouldn't know who I am if we met face to face, and there's no reason he would trust me if I tried to contact him over the phone or through the internet." Shaking his head, he tells her, "It has to be you." Even though he misses Matt desperately. Even though all he wants is to see him again. (Warning people about the Burning sounds great, and is arguably far more important, but Foggy isn't Matt. He has no world-saving complex. If he goes - if he does this - he will be doing it for him, and not for anyone else. And that's the number one reason on his list that he shouldn't be the one to go, and the number one reason he doesn't think he can admit to Karen.)
"You're wrong about this, Foggy, and if we don't get this right-"
"Then the world will probably fall apart all over again, and you can make me do it the next time."
She winces. This is something they've worried about. The very real possibility that this has been done before, and theirs is the second, or third, or fourth, or nth timeline. But they can't think about it too much, or they will go crazy, and nothing will get done. They at least know that they have to try. "Don't joke about that," she tells him quietly. Lately, she is never anything but quiet. Yet another sign among many that she is slipping away. "It's not funny."
It kind of is, though, in a horrifying way.
But that's not what she needs to hear. "Yeah. Sorry."
"It's fine."
It's not fine.
He closes his eyes and then sighs. "You really think I should be the one to go?"
"I really do."
Opening his eyes, he nods, because he is tired, and she is tired, and she deserves to win something, even if it is just an argument with Foggy. They've both lost too much, lately.
He'll just have to hope that seeing everything the way it was will remind him that there are more pressing concerns than spending every waking minute with Matt, because otherwise, this will all have been pointless.
"All right, yeah. I'll do it."
She lets out a soft huff of relief, and Foggy knows that he has made the right decision, at least for Karen, if not for anyone or anything else. "Good. Than you, Foggy."
There is a part of him that wants to say 'Don't thank me yet,' but they're still not talking about the possibility of multiple timelines, so he refrains, settling instead for reaching for her hand and squeezing it softly. The fine bones beneath his own feel like marching orders.
He might fail. There is a depressingly real chance of that. But he will try very hard not to.