Hello! A new Back to the Future story for this barren archive.
TW: Rape discussion, implied.
"We weren't careful, no, not careful enough," Marty thought to himself as he sat in his shut in bedroom, mind swimming with various subjects. Hindsight is twenty twenty, of course, but what's hindsight when you have a time machine? Marty knew he would always have hindsight if he set the digital number pad in the DeLorean further into the future, but does it matter if the damage has already been done? Marty pose this question to himself daily, but yet, he'll do it again. Doc's voice echos in his mind as it did when the older first asked the damned question.
"If you can't alter the past, what good is hindsight?"
Marty let out a breath of air as he rubbed the back of his neck softly, his nails leaving fine white marks on the tanned skin. He felt the irritation of his plastic hospital wristband rub uncomfortably, complete with name and date of birth accompanied by various numerals that correlated to his own personal ID. Removing his hand from his neck, he studied the plastic bracelet as his arms rested on top of his jeaned thighs. It was laminated and on tight, not wanting any patient to get any bright ideas of choking on it as a form of suicide. Frowning to himself, the morning light hitting his face from the poorly shut blinds, he stood up from where he resided and decided to leave his room, but not before giving a small pat of the head to Einstein, who slept soundless on the floor of his dirty laundry. At least one good thing came of this disaster.
Walking out of his cluttered bedroom, Marty shuffled his socked feet along the carpet till he entered the high end kitchen. Opening drawers slowly, not wanting to make too much noise, he rummaged until he found a pair of old red scissors that would do the trick. With a nice, "snip," he cut the wrist band away from his body and made note of the imprint he saw against the once smooth skin. Though tacky, he did what he saw the prison inmates do in movies. With his right hand, he rubbed and massaged the left wrist where the skin was red from the plastic, as if one would do with handcuffs.
Marty stopped all movements and held his breath, raising an eyebrow when he heard a creek from the hallway that was short lived. Judging by his opinion of the only person who cared enough to spy on him, he spoke while facing the front door, still in the kitchen, headed tilted down with shut eyes.
"You don't have to hide, Mom. I'm just taking off my wristband, nothing more."
From the hallway after a moment of silence in the air, Lorraine stepped out from hiding. She walked slowly into the kitchen with her pink floral pajama outfit, crossing her arms with a soft frown plastered on her face. She stood in the entry way, a good ten feet from Marty with a soft sigh that left her lips. She spoke softly, only when Marty opened his eyes and turned himself to see her. "I'm not hiding, Marty. I'm hovering."
Marty give a small scoff, a smile creeping onto his lips. He felt self conscious of himself when he saw his mother eyeing his body with a disapproving, "Oh, honey, you slept in your clothes again?"
She walked closer to him until she could reach out and pull the red t-shirt fabric away from the center of his chest with two fingers, pinching the fabric and letting go after a moment. Chalk it up to a mother action rather than a fashion judgement. Sticking his hands on his jean pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet, Marty shook his hand. Hesitant to cause his mother anymore worry, which he was certainly it would, he confessed with a cringe from the pending damage, "I, uh, didn't sleep last night. Too much on my mind. I was thinking about how I gotta start school next week and I'm already falling behind wh-"
Interrupting with her right hand going to his left cheek, the richer timeline Lorraine shook her head slowly. She stopped him mid sentence with the warming action. Using her thumb to slowly drag across his cheek lovingly, she talked at a hushed volume to not wake the others. "Now, Marty, we aren't going to rush this. You're not going back until your father and I feel like you're ready. Your school has already agreed to work with us to make sure you don't fall behind. They'll help you work extra hard to catch up. Actually, Mr. Strickland said he'd help you himself."
Letting go of her son when a synchronized timer went off, Lorraine gasped at the noise and turned to her stove to shut off the pastel pink timer that rested on the upper lip. Marty muttered to himself, nose crinkling and mouth twisting, "That's what I was afraid of."
The mother hummed a meaningless tune as she turned off the timer and began to fill up the fancier black coffee pot with hot water from the tap, all expensive filtered water, of course.
Turning to escape into his room, Marty walked out of the kitchen and creaked the lower floorboards until his blood ran cold and heart froze from the words of his mother's lips. She called from the kitchen, voice warm and full of good intentions, "And, Marty? Try to sleep and smile some. You were violated, not killed. You're still here."
Hands going numb as if he was truly frost bitten, he shut his eyes tightly for a moment. Marty tried to answer with something of a, "thank you," but instead produced the sound of his voice cracking with a pained noise that led to a coughing fit, throat dry. He walked into his room with a quick pace, shutting the door behind him. Back against the door, he locked it with the golden handle and slid down the painted wood into his own puddle of sorrow. Marty, without warning, sobbed into his hands as he tried his best to muffle his cries. Oh, what a month.
Einstein comforted him, now awake with a soft yip of a yawn, laying his head on Marty's jeans while his brown eyes stared up at Marty, occasionally moving his tail a few ways every time they made eye contact as he waited patiently for another exchange of looks. Marty thought back to the start of all this, forcing himself to remember the truth without a bias opinion. Think, McFly, what really happened?
It was the beginning of October when everything went wrong, currently the start of November. It was a day like any other. School, Strickland write-ups, Jennifer's kisses- nothing was out of the ordinary. Marty had decided to skip out on going to his father's celebratory dinner at a fancy restaurant that Friday night with his family (and father's editor) to recognize another best seller his dad had produced, this one being a sequel to, "A Match Made in Space", where the protagonist has three kids who turn out to be aliens.
Uncanny.
Marty, hoping to get lucky and not thinking his rewrote timeline family would care if he hung back, he invited Jennifer over for a romantic evening alone. His parents promised that the house would be clear for the evening and that they'd return the day after, going out of town to a five star restaurant they heard only positive raves about. It worked perfectly for Marty, the only hard part reassuring his mother that he didn't need a babysitter since he was almost eighteen.
Emergency contact numbers on the fridge along with pizza money, he was golden for an evening of sensual jazz music and freedom of his virginity. He didn't think it was a half bad plan.
His family left once all the kids got off school, being teased by his siblings of being a loner and worried questions from both parents, they all left with a change of clothes and empty stomachs. Marty dashed to the phone once he saw the car leave his driveway, still watching out the window for a solid minute.
Nearly clicking his heels when Jennifer answered the dial tone, his excited attitude quickly turned sour when he heard his girlfriend explain how she needs to stay with her grandma for the next few days to help out and do chores for her. Voice cracking, Marty wrapped his fingers around the twisted wired phone, "J-Jen, hey, you can't, uh, get out of it? I mean-"
He shifted his weight, letting out a nervous chuckle as he felt his mood sink quicker than a bowling ball in water. He whispered to the phone, as if his parents were waiting outside of the front door to bust him, "Tonight is the big night, Jen. We didn't get to go to the lake because it rained- My parents are out of town and I got my room cleaned-"
He was cut off by the annoyed sigh of Jennifer on the other line, something he heard so rarely that made him pull the phone away from his ear, squint at the corded white plastic phone, then put it back to his ear.
"Marty. I can't get out of it. I know you keep saying how you're worried your gonna be the only eighteen your old who hasn't, you know, but I promise you that we'll have some alone time soon, okay? When we do, I'll make it worth your while, babe. I'll let you do whatever you want to me and show you just how heavenly I can make you feel."
A shiver electrifying Marty's spine, he couldn't help but smile at the phone that rested on a wooden table near the front door. Not wanting her to get caught having phone sex at her grandma's, knowing this would keep his active imagination entertained for a while, he gave a nod to nobody and replied with a small, low chuckle, "How can I say no to that? Reschedule it is, then. Hey, tell your grandma I said hello. I'm gonna call in some grub."
Saying their goodbyes, the pair hung up their phones. A satisfied smile from Marty, his eyes glanced over the cream colored walls to the photos of the children from various stages in their lives. It was something he had been meaning to talk to Doc about, wanting to know if there was a way to somehow access this timeline of Marty's memories. He wanted to remember going on expensive vacations and quality time together as a family unit, but alas, he wasn't the Marty that was in the photos.
Shaking his head, Marty dialed the Doc's phone number and waited for an answer. Talking briefly, Marty invited over his close companion to stay for a order in pizza dinner and explain to him how memories in timeline worked, even offering to throw Einstein a slice of the older brought him. Emmett agreed with a cheerful tone, not ever much leaving his garage due to social anxiety. He could do a night away with Marty and Einstein, excited to chat the night away with the house to themselves.
What awaited them that night was anything but casual. The stars had aligned their future to be more intimate than Marty had ever dreamed of. Doc came over an hour after their phone call with Einstein following happily at his feet, greeting Marty in the doorway once he was invited inside and instantly began to talk about various relationships and how they can form your own different versions of memories on a timeline, explaining that if you had a close relationship in another timeline, those feelings will still be present in this new one and previous memories you shared may still be intact and have happened in the current timeline.
Discussing feelings, using Jennifer as example, led the pair to talk about Marty and Jen's relationship as a whole. The two sat on the couch with a space between them, curtains closed and yet having to order their dinner on the telephone, but instead Marty having broke into his mother's very small stash of red wine that she kept tucked away in the higher pantry for special occasions, pouring both of them a generous portion in vintage wine glasses encrusted with etch. Marty expressed with embarrassment, but confidence the secret was safe, that he was going to be eighteen and still a virgin. Flirting arose from Marty's mouth when Doc was curious how he hadn't done the deed with how popular he was with the ladies, Marty going into detail of how he was awfully lonely at night when he had nobody to help wear himself out enough for bed. It was either the half glass of wine talking or his feelings, knowing he wasn't drunk, but buzzed. It was him pouring his heart out, not any alcohol, but why drink and say things you'll forget if you don't have the liquor as a possible excuse if things got too awkward?
It was Marty who moved himself into the shocked Doc's lap with a soft giggle as he wrapped his shaky arms around the Hawaiian collared neck. It was Marty who sloppily kissed the man with a red stained tongue slipping in after Emmett stopped fighting back. It was Marty who slowly started to remove both of their shirts with a soft grind of his hips, moaning into the kiss when his growing erection bumped Doc's stomach just right. Emmett didn't resist, no, but suggested that what they were doing was wrong and could land them in trouble that they weren't prepared for. Not listening, Marty insisting that Emmett took him right there on the couch and fulfilled his wish of losing his virginity, something Jennifer had promised him that night. He had wanted Doc for months, and damn it, he was going to pop his cherry tonight one way or another.
Their actions heating up, fifteen minutes later Marty was groaning with Doc's panting as a background symphony that was loud enough that Einstein awoke from his nap. Doc was fully in Marty as the younger rode him from the couch, bouncing his body on Emmett's lap as he begged for the older to not let him go and to never stop. Doc gave Marty kisses any chance he could, offering to stop at anytime contrary to his request of never easing up as Marty's pink hole engulfed the thick cock on repeat. Marty's own hard erection bounced between them as he felt Emmett explore his tight cavern roughly, switching from pinching Marty's erect nipples to his hands guiding the teenager on his dick to match rhythm. "You're so fucking hard, Doc, I'm gonna, ah, cum!" Marty's head swam with emotions as he neared orgasm- until his front door opened without the single sound of keys. He hadn't locked it earlier, too excited at the thought of calling Jennifer.
Marty doesn't remember how he felt or much of what happened. He dissociated in its purest form, only recalling bits of the facts and not his feelings. He couldn't place what happened when his family opened the door, but instead his mind only allowed him to jump to the memory of his eyes frantically searching for Doc from the living room floor as his mother covered him up with a blanket that rested on the back of the couch. It's as if the timeline, for him, glitched. One moment he was on top of Doc and the next he was confused on the carpet, buck naked.
He remembered how angry and disgusted his mother and father were for about five seconds, till they saw the delayed response of Marty's eyes along with his cherry red tongue that had the odor of strong straight alcohol. Realizing the involvement of booze, they connect two and two themselves while sudden pained cries from Lorraine and sheer anger from George. They came to the conclusion that:
Doc had came over with the intent to get Marty drunk, relaxed, and to get their underage baby boy naked and brain washed to think it was normal.
Marty tried to protest, reassuring that no such thing happened and he was the one who asked for it, but his words were drowned out at the voice of his father calling the police chief that he was close friends with. During the time that Marty's memory blocked out what happened, Doc had someone escaped the house in a hurry. The police, now being in formed, sent out a massive search for Doc that turned into a state wide manhunt. His information and portrait was printed onto flyers and hung up anywhere that had a barren wall all over the state of California. Not even the homeless could escape the face of Emmett Lathrop Brown as they resided under bridges of highways, his face appearing on the pillars that held up the cement roadway.
Rumors spread, some saying Emmett broke into the house and raped Marty while he was sleeping, others saying that he drugged Marty and kept him as a sex slave for weeks in the house basement, thought the home didn't even HAVE a basement. The only part that stayed consistent was that the boy, Marty Seamus McFly of 9303 Lyon Drive, Lyon Estates, CA, had been raped by a man four times older than him in his own home. That part was spread with every repeat of the story, every new detail that was created out of thin air by some nosy community member. Marty was no longer an aspiring musician who had big dreams and a loving home and several hobbies- No, he was the stupid boy who didn't watch out for the warning signs of a predator and turned from a human being into a victim.
After several police questionings, all of which Marty insisted Doc was the one who protested if anything, Marty was committed to a mental institute for nearly three weeks. They were worried of not only his sanity, but of suicide attempts that he may pursue since rape victims often found themselves "confused". His parents, scared and unsure of what to do, signed over the rights of the almost adult.
Marty recalled, still laying against his door, the torture it was to talk to a psychiatrist. A man who knew nothing about him reassured that his thoughts were wrong and that, obviously, he had been manipulated by an older man and sexual assaulted. He used the evidence of alcohol against Doc, claiming of how he "knew what he was doing" when MARTY pulled out the booze. After literal hours, several days, of the same psychiatrist, Marty started to believe him. He couldn't escape the words that he was a victim and was took advantage of. After hearing it so many times, he started to question his memories of the situation. He was released on the terms that he would be under close watch of his parents and would return to school only if he was ready, and this was only after his brain had been shook up enough to believe that Emmett, his Doc, had came over with malicious intent and raped him.
As Marty sobbed against the door, enter body quaking and begging for stress relief, he half heartedly patted his new pet. His blue eyes drifted to the ceiling as the tears spilled uncontrollably. His mind was confused, unsure if that night even happened or if his life was even real. What kind of fucked up timeline did he create for himself? Why couldn't he just have locked the door? Why couldn't he had waited for Jennifer and not cheated? Why couldn't he just be held, in this moment, by the one person he was told he should hate the most that was still missing and on the run?
If you can't alter the past, what good is hindsight?