Written for the December backtothefanfic challenge.

It's never a good day when you're stopped by a guy in a ski mask.

It hadn't been a good day to start with, anyway. Strickland had given him another tardy slip, which wasn't in itself so bad, but the ten-minute lecture on slackers he'd had to endure sure was; also, he and Jennifer had been getting on each other's nerves lately, and the school day had ended with the two of them sniping at each other and parting in mutual silence.

Worst of all, he'd stopped by Doc's house after school and the two of them had somehow had a row. They'd been in the lab outside Doc's house; Doc had been taking something apart on a workbench and Marty, bored, was flipping through a newspaper he'd found lying around. There was silence between them, until Doc spoke.

'Marty, can I talk to you?'

Marty frowned and looked up from the newspaper. 'Well, I'm right here, Doc.'

The scientist frowned, seeming to search for the words he wanted to say. 'I'm right here too, but you aren't talking to me.'

Marty blinked, puzzled. What was Doc going on about now? He dropped his eyes to the newspaper again. 'What do you want me to say? I don't have anything to talk about.'

'You used to.' Doc's voice was quiet. 'It didn't matter whether you had anything to say or not. We had conversations.'

'Doc.' Marty's voice was low and steely; he didn't look up at Doc, but his hands were clenched around the edge of the paper. 'Could you please tell me what the hell you're talking about?'

He wasn't given an answer. 'You hardly ever look at me anymore, either. Not since…'

Marty now dragged his gaze upwards to rest on his friend's face. 'Since when?'

'Since Halloween.'

Suddenly furious, Marty leaped to his feet, the newspaper sliding to the ground. As well as being angry, he was scared. Terrified. His heart began to race. Please, Doc, don't talk about that world. Please don't talk about that awful alternate you. Please, Doc…

'What the hell are you talking about, Doc?' Marty strove to keephis voice steady, but despite his attempts it quivered and shook.

'You know, Marty. Since we met the alternate Emmett Brown at Halloween you keep to yourself; you still come over here but you just sit in that chair and don't say anything to me or look at me. And it's just me. I've heard you talking to the boys and occasionally Clara when you don't think I'm around. You don't talk to your family either – '

'How do you know?'

'Your mother rang me a few days ago. She's been worried about you, Marty. You've been like this ever since Halloween – '

'Yeah, you said,' snapped Marty. 'So? What's your problem, Doc?'

Doc was beginning to look a little annoyed himself. 'Marty, all I want is for you to talk to me – not attack me.'

There was silence between them for several moments.

Finally Doc said, in a very soft voice, 'It's the alternate Emmett Brown that's been bothering you, isn't it? Look, I know you were a little shaken up by that experience, but it's been three months, Marty.'

'No, it's not that guy,' Marty said angrily. 'You always think you know everything, don't ya?'

'Marty, you don't have to get so defensive. I just want to talk to you.'

'You've talked enough.'

'Please, Marty, you're not helping anyone with this attitude - least of all yourself. All I want to do is help you.'

'Well I don't need help, OK? And I got better things to do than hang around here and listen to you – you – you thinking you got it all worked out! You don't need to act like a goddamn phsyciatrist or something. I'm going, Doc. I'll see you around.' Before his friend could say anything Marty was slamming the door behind him.

Now, as he made his way home, his anger had gone, replaced by unhappiness and confusion. Things were tense between him and Doc; things were tense between him and Jennifer; things were tense between him and his family. What was wrong with him? It wasn't because of his experience with the other Doc – mad hungry eyes, no don't think about it don't think about it – like Doc assumed. Marty could feel himself growing hot with rage again just remembering the scientist's words. 'You've been like this ever since Halloween.' So it was true he had been a little on edge for the past few months, but he was just - tired, that's all. He was especially burnt out by the past week. At least it was Friday – all he wanted to do was go home, put his feet up and watch TV, and not have to think about school, homework, or – if truth be told – Doc and Jennifer.

If he ever got home. His truck was in for repairs so he was skateboarding home, and no handy cars were around to catch hold of. As if he wasn't exhausted enough.

Now there was this guy in the creepy-looking ski mask who had just stepped into his path and caught hold of his arm. Marty lost balance and would have fallen if he hadn't been held up by Ski Mask. The skateboard rolled away.

'Hey, watch it!' he said, annoyed. Normally he wouldn't have been so aggravated by the incident, but after everything else…

'Oh, I'm so sorry,' said the man, in an amused tone; but he didn't let go of Marty's arm.

His voice was familiar. Marty frowned. Where had he heard it before? And why wouldn't this guy let go of him? He tried to twist away, but the stranger gripped him more tightly.

Marty froze at this movement, suddenly uneasy. 'Could you let go of me now?'

The stranger laughed. The only part of him that Marty could see was his eyes, glinting ice blue through the gap in the ski mask. 'Don't you recognise me, Marty?'

Marty squinted at him uncertainly.

'It's me, your Uncle Joey!'

'Uncle – Uncle Joey?' Surprise and relief flooded through Marty, and he laughed out loud. 'Jesus Christ, you gave me a fright! Yeah, you got released a while back, right? How come you haven't been to see us? And what's with the mask?'

'Well, I don't really want anyone to recognise me,' said Uncle Joey. 'What would they say if they saw Lorraine Baines' little brother kidnapping her youngest son?' With those words he pulled a gun from his pocket and pressed it to Marty's ribs.