Doc had never regretted a decision so much in his life.
His lab had never been more quiet, now that Marty was nowhere to be seen. There was no sound of a guitar, a teenager asking what something was or what it did. No sound of something breaking. At the moment Doc would have preferred even that to the absence of the teenager. Einstein seemed to be able to tell what had happened as he was sat in his bed whining.
Doc frowned and walked over to him, kneeling down and patting his head. "I'm sorry Einy, but it's for his own good. He'll get into serious trouble if he hangs around me any longer,"
Einstein whined again before laying his head back down. Doc sighed and stood up, going over to the DeLorean. He narrowed his eyes. That blasted time machine was what had caused all this trouble. It had caused Marty to be hurt both physically and emotionally several times. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but Doc was beginning to regret ever building it in the first place. All it had done was cause problems.
Sighing, the scientist grabbed a screwdriver and pulled the door open. He moved the tool towards the time circuits, meaning to dismantle them, but he stopped. He couldn't take this machine apart, not after spending thirty years and most of his family fortune on it. It was the only invention that had been successful so far, the only one that had been worthwhile. It had made him feel so happy, knowing he'd made something that worked.
Doc got out the car again and shut the door, carelessly tossing the screwdriver back into the toolbox. He sat down on the sofa and laid back. His usual over-the-top enthusiasm was completely gone. He felt tired, old and lonely. It occurred to him that he didn't actually have many friends. If he had, he'd be able to go and see them. But he didn't. Marty was the only person he knew well, and he was distancing himself from the teen in what he believed was for Marty's own good.
A picture frame on the table next to him caught his eye. It was of him and the teen, taken on Marty's thirteenth birthday by his mother. Doc had presented him with some new CDs, which Marty had tucked under one arm in the photo. Both of them had ridiculous party hats on and they were grinning like idiots. Doc took the photo in his hands, running his fingers over the embossed wooden frame. He sighed and replaced it on the table.
Geeze, Marty's only been gone a few days and I'm already miserable.
Doc got up again and tried to focus on an older project, one that had been sitting in the corner of the lab for a while, collecting dust. It was supposed to be an automatic stereo system, but so far it had been a complete failure. Maybe trying to fix that would make Doc forget about the fact that he'd told Marty to stay away from him.
…..
Marty aimlessly rolled a pencil around his desk as he listened to his Physics teacher bore on and on about space or something. He wasn't paying attention. This became evident when she called on him to answer a question.
"Marty?"
His head snapped up so fast he could have sworn his neck nearly broke. "Y-yeah?"
"Do you know how long it takes for sunlight to reach Earth?"
"Uh… um… an hour?" He guessed, shrugging a little.
"No, clearly you weren't listening. I assume that if you fail your exam you'll know why?"
"Because I wasn't listening?" Another guess.
"Yes, now stop being so ignorant and pay attention," She sighed, going back to wittering on about something.
Marty put his chin in his palm in a vague attempt to look as though he was concentrating, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't help but think about what Doc had said a few days ago. Did Doc really think Marty had few friends? Was the scientist seriously a bad influence? Marty had been friends with Doc for years, and only now did Doc suddenly decide that he should stay away from him. If anything, Marty was furious.
Classes dragged by like paint drying, and as soon as they were over Marty got on his skateboard and headed home. He was still grounded. As he passed the town centre, Tiff and his gang approached him, sitting in Tiff's brand new BMW convertible. Tiff was behind the wheel, a retarded sneer on his face as usual, a trademark of the Tannen family.
"Well look who it is!" Tiff sneered, driving slowly alongside the pavement where Marty was.
"Fuck off Tiff," Marty sighed, not looking at him.
"Oooooh," Alex sneered. "Someone got up on the wrong side of bed this morning."
"Where you going McFly?" Katrina called, wearing a ridiculously short skirt as always.
"Home, where the fuck do you think I'm going?" Marty snapped, grabbing a lamppost to pull himself round the corner.
"So you're not hanging round with that old freak anymore?" Michael laughed.
Marty growled and ignored him. He wasn't going to retaliate, not after what happened last time. Michael could go and-
"Leave the poor kid alone," Tiff said in a fake mocking voice, still driving the car slowly alongside Marty. "He just wants to go home and jerk off to some kid's TV show,"
Don't react Marty, he's doing it to annoy you. Don't give them what they're looking for.
"You're so gullible McFly! Look! Your shoe's untied!"
Don't react don't react don't-
"Oof!" Marty was sent flying off his skateboard as one of his legitimately untied shoelaces got caught under the wheel.
Man, I hate irony. Marty grumbled as he got back on his board, wiping his hands off on his jeans. He wasn't going to so much as look at the group in the car who were still stalking him.
Marty's fall had caused the group to laugh hysterically, and Marty's face went red, but he soon turned onto his street. Before he could approach his house, however, Tiff pulled the car over and parked it in the middle of the path, blocking Marty's way. The four jumped out and stood in front of Marty.
Marty didn't care at this point and tried to push past them, only to be shoved backwards, hard, and he fell over. He was briefly reminded of his early years at high school, when he wasn't exactly the most popular kid. His middle-school friends had left him in favour of others, and he was left practically alone.
Sighing, he got back on his feet and tried walking round them again. Alex smirked and shoved him back, ripping the skateboard from his hands.
"Hey!" Marty protested, lunging forward to try and get it back. "That's mine!"
"I don't know McFly, it's a nice board," Tiff took it from Alex and looked it over. "It would be a shame if it broke!" He tossed the board into the street, just in front of a passing van. Marty tried to grab it, but the wheels of the van ran over it and the board broke clean in two.
Marty grabbed the two halves of the board and glared daggers at the van as it just drove on. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed the familiar "Dr E Brown Enterprises" text printed on the back. He opened his mouth to shout, but closed it again. What was the point? Doc had told Marty to stay away from him, what good would it do to yell at him?
A punch in the stomach brought Marty back down to Earth. He stumbled back, a hand around his waist, gasping for air. Tiff was laughing and jeering. Growling, Marty swung one half of the board at the Tannen's head, but missed. The momentum pulled him so he was side-on to the group and he received a hard kick in the ribs. He fell to the floor, clutching his side.
Yep, he thought grimly. Just like the start of high school.
The group got in their car and left, not before running over the halves of Marty's skateboard to break it up more. The wheels were forced off the wooden board and the base splintered. The car drove off, the group's hollering heard from the other end of the street. Marty got up and brushed himself off. He took the broken pieces of the skateboard and tossed them into a nearby trashcan before sticking his hands in his pockets and walking home.
Marty pushed his front door open and headed straight for his room. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone, he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He shoved the bedroom door shut behind him and threw his bag into the corner, before falling onto his bed. He gazed up at the ceiling as a couple of tears formed in his eyes.
Grow up, McFly, don't be so pathetic, a voice in his head reprimanded him as he wiped his eyes. He sat up and punched his pillow a few times before laying back down. If he was honest, he hated his life.
Now that made him sound spoiled. He had a home, a family, a guitar, a girlfriend and…
And that was it. He would have said he had a mad scientist as a best friend, but he wasn't sure of that any more. He didn't know if he'd ever talk to Doc again, or if he'd even make eye contact. Doc had been such a big part of his life, and now that he was gone, Marty felt… empty.
Not in the way that felt like he'd been dumped. No, no it wasn't like that… more of a feeling of abandonment. The same feeling he'd had when all his middle school friends had left him on the first day of high school. He felt totally alone, scared. At least he'd had Doc then. The scientist was his best friend, the only person Marty could really talk to about bullying issues.
He still had bully problems, but this time, Doc wasn't there to help him. He had no-one. His alcoholic mother and quite frankly wimpy father were hopeless, especially because George knew it was a Tannen that was picking on Marty. The man had enough trouble with Biff as it was, he didn't want any more issues. Marty was completely alone on this one.
Apart from Jennifer.
Jennifer had always had his back, and he'd had hers. They were inseparable, like two peas in a pod, yin and yang, hydrogen and oxygen etcetera. She had always been supportive, caring, kind and understanding. She was the only thing in his life at the moment that really made it seem worth it. Marty smiled a little as he pictured himself with her, sitting together on a bench, arms around each other and just enjoying each other's company.
His phone rang, something he wasn't expecting, and he jumped. That couldn't be Doc, could it? Picking up the phone, he took a deep breath and answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey Marty," it was Jennifer. Marty smiled, savouring the sound of her voice.
"Hey babe, what's up?"
"Marty, we need to talk,"
Something was definitely wrong. Jennifer sounded, worried. She didn't sound like her usual perky self at all.
"Jen?" Marty frowned, holding the phone closer to his ear. "What's the matter?"
"Listen, I… I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other any more."
Alright, something was certainly wrong. "What?" Marty gasped. "Why?"
"You've been acting… different. You don't want to see anyone or do anything and it's… it's difficult for me. You're acting so depressed, and I can't be seen going out with someone who looks like they want to jump off a cliff."
That was it? That was what this was all about? Sure Marty had been a bit miserable recently, but was that really enough for Jennifer to dump him?
"Besides," she kept talking, even though Marty had heard enough. "I've met this… other guy. He's really sweet, and not pushy like you sometimes are, he really appreciates me for, well, me," she paused, and Marty heard her sigh. "You understand, right?"
Marty didn't answer for a moment, his mind reeling with the shock. Only when Jennifer repeated the question did he finally answer. "Yeah, I guess so," he mumbled into the phone.
Jennifer seemed satisfied with that. "Good, I'll see you around, okay?" Without so much as a goodbye, Marty slammed the phone back down hard.
That short conversation had felt like a hundred repetitive kicks in the stomach. The nerve of that girl, to dump him right when he'd been thinking about how she'd always been there for him. About how she'd always supported him, and he'd done the same with her. She'd just dumped him, and now he really did have no one.
He didn't eat much at dinner that evening. He pushed the food around his plate until it went cold, ditching it in the bin and going straight back to bed. He didn't care that his stomach growled, or that he would surely have a headache in the morning from hunger. None of that seemed to matter to him as he kicked his shoes off and got into bed, trying to forget all of the events of that day.
…..
School seemed all the more harder without Jennifer there. Classes dragged by more slowly, he noticed, and he was getting a lot more negative attention than usual. It had started with shoving and name-calling, and had escalated into punches by the end of the day. At every given opportunity, Tiff or one of his gang (or all of them, if Marty was really unlucky) would shove him around.
Marty didn't react in the slightest. He just didn't care any more. He didn't give a shit about what people said or thought of him. He just wanted to get the day over with so he could go home and sleep. That was the only time he felt okay. He could drift away from this hellish reality for a while and just do whatever he pleased. He could play guitar in the middle of the street and no one would bat an eye. He could work on the DeLorean with Doc, without the scientist telling him he was dangerous and a threat to Marty's social life. Heck, he could skateboard as fast as he liked, anywhere he liked without being told off. His parents were relaxed, cool even.
But when he woke up, that perfect dream-world disappeared and he was forced back into reality.
One particular school day had been awful. It wasn't just the lessons, it was the spare time between lessons that had been the worst bit. First of all, someone had taped a piece of paper with the words "kick me" to his back. Of course, people had obeyed, and he'd spent a good ten minutes getting kicked around before Strickland ripped the paper off him and gave him a lecture about how he was a slacker. The man had told him how "no McFly had ever achieved anything in the history of Hill Valley", and sent him on his way. He'd then had his homework stolen and handed in as Tiff's (it was math homework and their handwriting was practically identical), which had lead to him getting a detention for not doing his homework. He'd tried to explain to the teacher what had happened, but this was Mr Farthing, the most boring man on the planet. There was no getting out of it.
He'd been an hour and fifteen minutes late home, causing Lorraine to be furious. He'd had his guitar, Walkman and GameBoy confiscated as a result. He now had nothing to do. He'd done his homework, had dinner (although he still barely ate) and just sat in his room. His comic books were suddenly very unappealing and boring to him, and he didn't have any other game to play.
This was all Doc's fault. If that stupid scientist hadn't told Marty that he couldn't hang around him any more, he'd at least have someone to be with or at least talk to right now. Jennifer had dumped him, he'd been kicked out the band for a poor performance the other day, he'd been bullied and given a detention and his parents didn't seem to care. All because Doc had ditched him.
I hope you're happy now, Doc.
….
Doc was in fact not happy at all. He missed Marty, he missed having him around. But it was for the kid's own good, or so he believed. He'd told himself that he was a danger to the teen and had therefore tried to stay away from him. The scientist had actually got a lot completed in that time. He'd finished old projects, started and completed new ones. Only a small handful of them actually worked, but he'd accomplished something.
Einstein had gotten over that little bout of "where's Marty?" syndrome and was back to his usual happy self. He'd still trot around the lab holding a wrench in his mouth every so often, tail wagging. It was almost as if the canine hadn't noticed Marty was even there in the first place.
Unfortunately the same thing couldn't be said for the inventor. His lab was almost deathly quiet without the teenager around, but it was for the best. Marty had become a social outcast since he'd met Doc. He had few friends to begin with, and as Marty spent more and more time with him, the number of friends had dwindled.
The teenager could go back to being a normal person now. He could have friends, hang out with people his age, spend more time with his girlfriend. He should be happy now, right? Of course he would be, Doc needed to stop fretting over the teen's wellbeing. If he was gonna keep Marty safe from his crazy inventions, he needed to start by seeing Marty as just another person. Not a friend, not practically family, just another face in the crowd.
…..
Marty had started coming home with bruises almost every day after school. They were mostly on his arms and face, but sometimes, if he was punched in the gut hard enough, his stomach would be bruised as well. He kept this to himself. He didn't want to worry his father. If he told George that he was having Tannen problems too, his dad would only become more fearful of Biff. His mother seemed blissfully unaware of any of this, absorbed in her drinking. Dave worked nights, so he was never around to see it and Linda spent so much time with her makeup and her friends to notice.
The youngest McFly had been wearing long sleeves a lot recently, as well. He didn't want people seeing the marks on his arms. It wasn't just bruises covering his arms now. He didn't want people seeing those either, but if anyone found out how much of a weakling he was, his life would be ruined even more. He'd abandoned the thin white shirts for thicker sweaters, t-shirts and darker shirts. The thin white ones could easily be seen through, which meant that they had to go. His denim jacket had never been worn so much and he'd abandoned his favourite red body warmer. It made him stand out in the crowd, which is the last thing he wanted right now.
He had stopped playing guitar, stopped mucking around at school, stopped being himself in general. The Marty McFly everyone knew was fading, being replaced with a quiet, depressed, generally deflated teenager. Everyone at school seemed to hang around in groups at lunch, while he sat on his own. He'd chosen an old bench in the corner of the school grounds, a place where nobody would bother him, nobody would talk to him and nobody would pick on him. That's the way he wanted it to be.
Rumours had been spreading about him. Things like he's actually insane, he's gay, he's got some disease. Once the school found out that he'd been dumped by Jennifer, the rumours only grew more intense. Jennifer was actually getting praise for "dumping that McFly freak", and everyone seemed so much more satisfied with her new boyfriend. Marty just kept his head down and his hands in his pockets, trying to ignore the things being said. They hurt.
He chuckled coldly to himself, sitting alone on his bench, trying to force down the tasteless mush of a sandwich. That "sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me" thing was complete and utter bullshit. Their words did hurt. They felt like another stab wound to him every time he heard them. What was worse was that nobody seemed to care about him. Nobody showed a shred of sympathy towards him, not even when he'd shown up to Biology one day with a black eye and a bloody lip. They just carried on with their lives, ignoring the confused and hurt teenager who sat in their class, head down and silent.
The teachers had noticed Marty's change in attitude and just let him get on with it. They assumed it was just a phase; he'd get over it. They had too much work to do to be helping some kid out with his emotions. He wasn't kicking off in class, he wasn't rude and he was doing his homework. In their books, they saw that as an improvement.
Marty was gradually getting thinner. His mother had obviously noticed that he hadn't been eating much at dinner times, so she packed more into his lunch. He didn't want to eat, so he just tossed the food into the bin to make it look like he'd eaten everything. Lorraine seemed satisfied with that, as she didn't pester him about it. He was barely eating. He maybe had a few bites of a sandwich at lunch and tossed the rest away. He felt guilty for wasting food like that, but he just wasn't hungry. He was losing weight, something that he figured wouldn't hurt. His usually bright blue eyes were pale and grey, the spark in them faded.
But what did any of them care? He wasn't causing problems, he was doing his homework and he was staying out their way. That was good enough for them. They still spread rumours, they were teenagers after all, but other than that they left him alone. Apart from Tiff and his gang, of course. They still made his life a living hell. They kept shoving him around, calling him names and punching him. None of the other students seemed fazed by this, they just went about their daily lives. Why should they care anyway? They weren't his friends, nor his family.
There was one thing that allowed Marty to keep going. It was something that nobody knew about. The one thing that Marty actually had control over.
The pain.
He knew he shouldn't be doing it, but it felt so good to have a temporary relief from the daunting school life. He owned a small penknife, given to him by Doc a few years ago. He would stand in the shower and let the hot water take the stress away through the small lines cut into his arms. He felt better afterwards, but not for long. That's why he kept doing it. The temporary relief from the nightmarish school life he achieved for about an hour every evening was what kept him going.
Of course, he never spoke a word about this to anyone else. If they found out, he'd be done for. This was his little secret. One that he'd keep from the outside world. His arms were only so big, however, and he never moved to his hands. He wouldn't go around wearing gloves at school, or he'd get weird looks and be told to remove them. Then everyone would know. He never moved past the wrist, making sure to leave enough of a gap between his hand and his arm so that his skin wouldn't be revealed if his sleeve moved. He moved on to his legs, again keeping the cuts well within the region covered by his jeans. Never above the waist or below the ankle.
This went on for a couple of months or so. The number of cuts he made differed depending on how his day had been. If it had been average, maybe two or three. A bad day warranted six. If his day was absolutely horrible, he'd make at least ten fresh new lines. He'd tried going a day without making a single cut, but it had been too much, and the next day he'd made three times as many to compensate. The two days' worth, plus extra for being so stupid.
This was his life now. He'd lost everything: classmates, his girlfriend, best friend, his guitar, his skateboard. His parents were too caught up in their own little lives to notice what their son was doing to himself. Doc wasn't around to see it, Jennifer wasn't, his band mates weren't. Nobody was, and Marty liked it that way. He could keep himself to himself and not feel guilty about burdening anyone with his pathetic life. Everyone seemed so much happier now that he'd excluded himself. They were much more content, carefree, didn't seem to notice anything unusual outside their friendship circles. They were happy.
And in a way, so was Marty.
...
A/N: Oh look. Angst.
Sorry if this is getting dark for some people, but guess what? If you don't like it, don't read it!
