Title: Forever
Fanfic Of: Back to the Future Part III
Author: This is Da Vinci Speaking
Rating: T
Pairings: None
Summary: Marty's thoughts on things while he's being hanged by Buford Tannen.
Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm just obsessed.
Notes: This was inspired by listening to the song "Forever" by Chris Brown (which befittingly I had on repeat forever)…and they have nothing to do with each other, lol. It's another vignette—I have a tendency to be in love with those—and it takes place when Marty gets rescued by Doc from being hanged by Buford Tannen in Part III. I love that part…I just think it's the sexiest thing they made Doc do. Okay, so it's more of a point-of-view than a vignette…I suppose…just…shut up and read!
Forever
He was going to die. Marty knew for sure…that he was going to die. It was almost ironic—he would have let out a sardonic snicker had a rope not been secured around his neck and started to pull him towards the sky. He'd avoided getting run down by cars, he'd avoided getting shot, and he'd avoided becoming road kill to Indians and the Calvary…and he was going to die of oxygen shortage.
Well, that just sucked.
Still trying to free himself, Marty thought about the space-time continuum. Doc would be devastated to learn his best friend had passed, but then he might realize the repercussions and just get pissed that he screwed up the universe somehow. The idea was actually rather hilarious….
Marty was starting to fade into blackness. He wished he could say goodbye to Doc, for real…not just because he was dying but because he would probably never see him again anyway. But that didn't make sense; he was in 1885 specifically because he was searching for him. Then again, his brain was being deprived of something very crucial to its function, so nothing fit anymore.
He started to close his eyes and give up, but he stopped and, through clouding vision, saw someone in the vague distance making their way in his direction. The person's eyes were blocked from view, and he bleakly saw a very long shotgun in their hands. Marty fought unconsciousness just enough and he could see the figure expertly operate the lever to cock the gun and raise the viewfinder to his eye….
When the distant figure lifted his head enough for his face to be recognized, Marty's heart jumped into his constricting throat and his stomach dropped considerably low, all simultaneously. It made him dizzy…or was that because he was being han—
Doc fired.
Great, so I'm going to die at the hands of my best friend was the first clear thought Marty had since being choked to death.
Wait. He could breathe now. Suddenly everything seemed at the right angle…which meant he was on the ground. He inhaled sharply, causing an onslaught of hacking coughs. His knee hurt quite a bit from the fall, but he didn't care at that moment. He glanced over at Doc, who looked like an absolute hero in the dim sunset, holding his rifle up, ready to shoot again, giving Buford a stare of pure hatred.
"It'll shoot the fleas off a dog's back at five-hundred yards, Tannen, and it's pointed straight at your head!"
Marty decided to gather his bearings and wait for the world to stop spinning before he removed the rope. Buford was edging his horse toward Doc.
"You owe me money, blacksmith."
"How do you figure?"
Marty realized, in a moment of delusion from the feeling returning into his synapses, that if he wasn't Marty and was—at random—Martina, Doc would have just inadvertently enamored her into oblivion.
Hell, he did anyway.
"My horse threw a shoe," Buford was bitching. "And seein' as you was the one who done the shoein', I say that makes you responsible."
"Well, since you never paid me for the job, I say that makes us even," Doc retorted.
The young McFly kept his eyes on his best friend the entire time the scientist-turned-blacksmith and the brute on the horse argued. There was irony in the situation, he thought, but he couldn't place exactly what it was. And truthfully, he didn't care.
Buford Tannen rode off with his cronies on their horses, and Marty rubbed his throat gingerly. Doc looked over at him and shook his head, smirking.
"Marty…I gave you explicit instructions not to come here, but to go directly back to 1985."
"I know, Doc…but I had to come."
Doc placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and they smiled at each other. "But it's good to see you, Marty."
Marty thought back to those moments hanging from the courthouse. He thought about what he'd seen and what he'd been through, and how it was all going to be over with a simple gesture of pulling a rope. He thought about how if Doc hadn't come at that moment, he would've….
They simultaneously pulled each other in for a tight hug that was much appreciated by both parties, and after a bit of joking at Doc's expense, it all unraveled before him. All of it.
He was near his death a few minutes ago. As he remembered it, a lump formed uncomfortably in his throat. The few seconds it took for Doc to set him free…actually took forever. In that span of forever, he could've died. In that span of forever, Doc could've made sure he was alright.
But all he did in that span of forever was put a bullet through a rope.