Marty woke up with a start, shivering. He had realized he left his window open the night before and forgot to close it, allowing the cool winter breeze to wander into his room, coating him in cold air. He got up and hastily closed the window, rubbing his arms and shivering. He flopped back into his bed and curled up in his blankets. He seemed to have fallen asleep in his odd position again the night before, having crashed after a busy day, neglecting to get under the covers.
Marty had quite the restless few months. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn't seem to get Lorraine off of his mind. This being, of course, the young and beautiful girl who he had mistakenly chosen to have a risque love affair with when he had ventured back in time. While he himself was not affected, he had noticed that when he returned to his own time, his life was completely changed - he and his family were considerably better off, his father quite confident in himself and his mother had stopped drinking. But Marty could still tell that despite all of this, his mother always seemed a bit down. His father was quite capable of bringing her up again, but it was more like she leaned on him when she needed him rather than the two being together because they truly cared for each other. Of course, Marty could tell his mom and dad did love each other - just perhaps not quite in the proper way they should. Their marriage wasn't dysfunctional or anything of the sort - just rather lackluster and possibly disappointing.
Marty had told Doc about how his life was changed, and how things seemed to be kind of on edge with his parents. Doc had concluded that, due to Marty having become enamoured with Lorraine and vice versa, and then having spent so much time with her, that his sudden disappearance had caused a great deal of depression in her young mind when she realized that her first would not be returning to her.
Marty was also rather distressed, his dreams concocting up images and scenarios of him and Lorraine doing things together - whether they be sexual or not. Marty had many a sleepless night waking up and feeling a strain due to his intense dreams. He thought maybe he could forget about it, ignore the problem. But the issue persisted on and on. It wouldn't seem to go away.
The problem had gone as far as causing issues between Marty and his girlfriend, Jennifer. When he had gone to the lake with her the day after he returned from 1955, he had originally planned to make a move on her. He wanted to be her first and she his, however he lost the courage to go through with it, as all he could think about at the time was Lorraine. Jennifer was none the wiser, not knowing what was going through his head. Even after much kissing and touching, Marty still couldn't go through with taking Jennifer. She had labelled him a prude a bit jokingly and was obviously quite disappointed, but she wouldn't know why. Marty had confirmed with himself that he would not tell Jennifer that he had slept with another girl. He knew she would be crushed. Despite Jennifer being blissfully ignorant of any issues, Marty fought an inner battle each time he was around her, feeling a great deal of guilt rack over with each kiss she gave.
Now he sat curled up in his bed, still feeling the dread and guilt hang over him like a heavy rain cloud. What could he do? What would he do? What was he SUPPOSED to do? He couldn't get the idea out of his head, but he shook himself vigorously whenever this particular thought popped up. Hoping to take his mind off of things, he turned his radio on. It was already tuned to the rock channel. Much to his dismay, however, he heard the song "Always Something There To Remind Me", by Naked Eyes. The lyrics pertained to his situation too well, and it definitely did not help him forget about the problem. As the lyrics rang through the air, he tossed and turned on the bed. 'I walk along the city streets you used to walk along with me-' The image of him and Lorraine walking side by side after their little movie date flashed in his mind. He uncomfortably rubbed his arm across his face in some sort of feeble attempt to shoo the thought away.
'And every step I take reminds me of just how we used to be-
Well, how can I forget you, girl?' He groaned as the song continued. Oh, how he missed her. The singer was taking the words right out of his mouth. How COULD he forget her? It seemed like she was in his mind, every hour, every minute, every SECOND of every day. '...And I can't help recalling how it felt to kiss and hold you tight- Well, how can I forget you, girl?' The memories of holding her close to his body - so many times - popped into his head. How he missed her, how he missed the feel of her gentle hands along his body, her sweet smell... the way she caressed him and the tidal waves of emotions she expressed through the gentlest touches of her hands - the shivers that wracked his body every time her lips brushed tenderly against his own, the flurry of feelings he experienced when he allowed her to take him, and he her...
'...I was born to love her, and I will never be free-
You'll always be a part of me...' Marty lamented on the lyrics. Of course, he knew what they meant. It was metaphorical - the girl he was singing about in the song wasn't LITERALLY a part of him. But, much to Marty's dismay, this was indeed the case for Lorraine, and another reason he couldn't be with her. 'If you should find- You miss the sweet and tender- Love we used to share- Just go back to the places- Where we used to go- And I'll be there-" Marty thought about Lorraine, trotting delicately down the street of Hill Valley, passing the places where she and him had spent even the tiniest amounts of time together - and the twinge of pain and sadness in her eyes. Even if it was just a thought, it still made Marty's heart sink, because he was sure that this is something that definitely happened when she realized that he wasn't coming back. Another thought popped into his head - what if the little "problem" he and Lorraine had discussed having possibly becoming real... came to fruition? Marty thought about it for a moment. He didn't have an extra brother or sister, so he supposed it didn't happen - but who's to say she couldn't have given the child up for adoption? Or... well, no, it was the 50s. They wouldn't have allowed abortion.
But now Marty had some excuse to go back and see her again. To check up on her, to make sure she wasn't... carrying his child. He gulped. And, if she was? He couldn't possibly stay there with her. The idea of going back, under the pretense he make sure she was okay - Marty knew he was putting up a front to try and pretend to himself that he wasn't totally addicted to her. He was torn. If he kept it up like this, he was afraid he might go crazy. What if he had an angry outburst because of all his pent up frustration? He would hate to yell at Jennifer. Marty lay there on his bed as the song continued.
Marty could see, in his mind, what these lyrics meant to him. He loved her, and he wanted to be with her. He knew she yearned for him as well, and if he really wanted to, he technically could go back and see her... right now, in fact. But as the song continued, he felt himself getting fed up. He hastily shot up and turned the radio to another channel - another rock channel - and luck wasn't in his hands, because an even more patronizing song came on. It was "Addicted To Love", by Robert Palmer.
Marty felt defeated and too annoyed to try looking for another song to listen to, so he fell back onto his bed and stared up at his ceiling, with a dissatisfied look on his face. Even though he tried his best to ignore the song, the lyrics made themselves painfully obvious to him. '...Your heart sweats, your body shakes...' While this part was a bit exaggerated, Marty could understand. He could imagine himself having this kind of reaction 'Another kiss is what it takes, You can't sleep, you can't eat' He thought of the feeling of her velvet touch against his lips. He closed his eyes and found himself imagining her touch again. 'There's no doubt, you're in deep, Your throat is tight, you can't breathe' There was no denying, he really WAS in deep. He remembered his initial reaction to her - he had completely stiffened up. 'Another kiss is all you need, Ohh oohh' He imagined, visualized, and seemingly reached out. Just one more... that's all he wanted. No, all he needed... No! It wasn't true! He couldn't think like this. 'You like to think that you're immune to the stuff...oh yeah' he huffed in denial. 'It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough' No, that's not true. It's... simply not true. No, of course not! 'You know you're gonna have to face it' He didn't have to face anything. No, nothing at all. 'You're addicted to love' No, no no! And yet...?
"No, I-I'm not.. I swear. I'm not... am I...?" he spoke softly aloud to himself, keeping his voice low so as not to alert anybody of his internal struggle. 'Another kiss and you'll be mine, a one track mind-' "I-I don't have a one track mind...!" he argued with the song, also as some kind of argument with himself. '-You can't be saved' the song was taunting him. '-Oblivion is all you crave' he shook his head, as if he were responding to the song, as if the singer could see him. "N-no, it's not." he uttered quietly.
The song repeated - 'You like to think that you're immune to the stuff It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough You know you're gonna have to face it You're addicted to love' Marty just sat there, too guilty to turn the radio off. Then, it began to repeat the phrase that he knew was all too true.
'Might as well face it, you're addicted to love Might as well face it, you're addicted to love Might as well face it, you're addicted to love Might as well face it, you're addicted to love Might as well face it, you're addicted to love'
With each repeat of the lyrics, he told himself he wasn't. That it wasn't true.
'...Your will is not your own, Your heart sweats and teeth grind...' he grit his teeth in response. He couldn't bring himself to turn the song off, so he sat there in his own shame and waited until it was over. Then he quickly got up and turned the radio off, shaking himself off in some attempt to clear his mind and calm himself down. But it didn't work.
He shouldn't be thinking like this. He told himself, over and over, he had repeated it... but despite this, so many arguments with his own reasoning ensued within his mind. Why couldn't he think about it? Why couldn't he think about her? He had Jennifer! But at the same time, he had gone on with his excursions with Lorraine despite the fact he knew what he was doing wasn't right, and that he was cheating on Jennifer. But at those times, he truly didn't care. He had fallen in love with Lorraine, as much as he hated to admit it now.
Marty took a deep breath and sighed. Maybe Doc would know what to do? It was worth a shot... even if he knew the older man wouldn't be too happy discussing Marty's attraction to Lorraine. Marty groaned as he sat up, still fatigued. He slipped on his jacket and vest, headed into the garage, grabbed his skateboard, and headed off to Doc's modest little home like he usually did.
Upon entering through the gate as was custom, Marty found his older friend still trying to tune up the DeLorean a bit. Marty wondered what else could be added to it - it was practically perfect! But, that was besides the point. Marty knew why he came here and he was going to discuss it.
"Hey Doc." Marty's adolescent voice cracked as it rang through the air, startling Emmett, who rolled out from underneath the DeLorean. He looked at his young friend with wide eyes, and Marty just smiled back sheepishly.
"Marty! You scared me half to death!" Doc said, sitting up and dusting himself off. Marty shrugged.
"Sorry." he apologized. Marty knew if he didn't start talking now, that Doc was going to start going on and on about what he was doing and how great his improvements to the DeLorean were. He could see it on the older man's face that he was very eager to tell him about his tune ups.
"No, no, that's fine. Look, I want to tell you about my new-" Doc began to ramble as he usually did, and Marty steeled himself and huffed a firm breath.
"Look, Doc, I-" Marty began, but he seemed to be ignoring him. He shook his head. "DOC!" he raised his voice, effectively getting Doc's attention just like he wanted. Seeing the look of shock on his face, he smiled guiltily and chuckled lightly. He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that. Look, I'm sure whatever you're doing's real great, but I need to talk to you about somethin'." Marty said in his regular tone, his voice seeming to waver a bit near the end of his sentence. This got Doc's attention.
"Sure, Marty. What is it?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice, although it seemed he was more curious than concerned.
"I, um... well, you know how I told you my mom seems a little more... down in the dumps, since I got back?" Marty noted. Doc nodded at him, listening. "W-well... I was thinking, maybe it was wrong of me to-"
"Have sex with your mother? Of course it was!" Doc cut him off, and Marty's face flushed a deep red at the mention of his excursion of affection.
"N-no! Doc! I-I mean, what I mean, is, maybe it was wrong of me to have promised Lorraine I'd come and see her again, to give her false hope like that. Since I did, my mom's sad now!" Marty pointed out. He noticed how he referred to "Lorraine" and "his mom" as two separate people.
"So what? Maybe it was wrong, but what are you implying?" Doc eyed him suspiciously.
"What I'm saying is, maybe it would be good if I went back in time and-" Marty began, but once again Doc jumped the shark and cut him off.
"Ohh, no. You're not having anymore relations with young Lorraine!" Doc scolded him. Marty felt his face flush again - he knew, even though he was using the excuse of her being sad without him as a way to get to go back in time and see her again, there was absolutely no denying that the thought of her pressing her heat against his groin hadn't crossed his mind. Just the thought made him melt.
"Doc, will you listen to me?!" Marty yelled at him. "I just don't want my mom to be miserable the rest of her life because some jerk played her like a card." Marty told him. Doc stared at him for a few seconds. Marty stared back, and in the silence, his true intentions for going back to Lorraine were becoming very clear to him - no matter how much he hated to admit it. He was addicted to her.
"If you think you can go back and fix this problem..." Doc started, and Marty got his hopes up. "Then I guess you can go, if you want to." he finished, and Marty resisted letting out a victorious "yes". He smiled at him.
"Thanks, Doc." Marty looked eagerly at the DeLorean.
"Yeah. But! No more sex with her!" Doc said firmly. Marty's cheeks burned. He wasn't so sure he could keep that promise.