Sure enough, at twenty minutes past eight the following morning, Doc had parked his van outside the front of Marty's house. Marty came out a couple of minutes later, stuffing his Walkman into his bag and nearly tripping over his own shoelaces.
"Hey Doc," The teen grinned as he climbed in, still trying to get everything in his bag. The teen had his body warmer back on, something he hadn't worn in a while. It felt good to wear it again.
Doc raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess, you overslept?"
Marty looked sheepish. "Yeah, my stupid alarm clock broke," he said, pulling the door shut.
Doc drove the truck off the driveway and began heading towards the high school. He cast a sideways glance at Marty. "You've got something in your hair,"
"Huh?" Marty brushed his hands over his hair, and sure enough a small feather fell out, floating gently down to his lap.
Doc chuckled. "You're lucky you're getting a lift, otherwise you'd be late by now,"
"Yeah, and then Strickland would have my head," Marty rolled his eyes. "The guy prides himself in making everyone's lives miserable,"
"He's just doing his job, a job that isn't made easier by kids being late," Doc pointed out.
Marty tried to hide the smirk on his face. "Guess so,"
A few minutes later, Doc stopped outside the high school and Marty got out.
"Have a good day," Doc called. "Try and stay away from Tiff,"
"As if I'd actually want to find the guy," Marty called back, shutting the door and waving as the truck drove off. He felt much more cheerful today, despite the fact that his side still hurt. He was wearing a baseball cap to hide the bandage still around his head (Doc had insisted that he kept it on to be on the safe side) and he'd abandoned the black hoodie in favour of his usual red body warmer. His eyes were the happy bright blue again, with a mischievous spark hidden in them. He took a deep breath and walked into school.
That day was a whole lot easier than Marty thought it would be to start off with. People didn't shove him around as much, and he actually managed to pay attention in lessons, something the teachers found to be a good thing. Of course, all good things must come to an end, and they did at lunch time.
Marty was sitting in the canteen. He'd decided against sitting on the bench because he actually wanted to mingle for the first time since Christmas. As he was eating, Tiff, Michael and Alex showed up.
"Oh, hey guys," Marty greeted them nonchalantly, not really paying then any attention.
Tiff didn't seem to like that, and he sat opposite Marty at the table, Alex next to him and Michael plonked next to Marty. "What are you so happy about, freak?"
"Nothing. I just realised how pointless it is to be upset by your trivial attempts at being threatening," Marty replied. He continued to eat his sandwich, almost ignoring them.
"Well look who's talking!" Michael scoffed. Michael was a scrawny guy with a face like a rat, his greasy hair plastered to his head and he always seemed to be wearing a pair of 3D glasses for some reason.
Marty just simply shrugged and kept eating. He let out a yelp when Michael grabbed the back of his body warmer. It wasn't zipped up, and the garment was pulled off Marty. The smaller teenager growled and tried to snatch it back.
"That's mine!"
"Yeah, I know," Michael sneered. "That's why I've got it,"
Marty sighed and sat back down. He figured if he ignored them, they might get bored and go away.
Tiff grabbed Marty's arm. "Look at us when we're talking to you, freak," he snarled. Marty tried to pull away from him, but Tiff still had a firm hold on his sleeve. As Marty tried to pull again-
RI-I-I-I-I-PP
The whole sleeve got torn away. Marty's forearm was now bare, and the scars still littering his skin were fully visible. While the three boys around him were dense, they were at least intelligent enough to know what had caused those scars. Marty gasped and immediately pulled his arm close, trying to shield it. He knew it was no use - the sound of the shouting had caused everyone's attention to be brought upon him, and now everyone had seen his arm.
Tiff sneered. "What's all this, McFly?" he asked, eyeing the boy's arm.
Marty gulped, and quickly grabbed his bag. He managed to grab his body warmer back off Michael and sprinted down the hallway, tears forming in his eyes. He had been determined to keep that a secret, but now everyone at school knew, including Tiff.
Marty came to a stop just outside the front of the school building, his heart racing. Thankfully he still had his shirt on underneath the torn jacket, and he quickly rolled the sleeves down to his hands to hide his wrists. He'd abandoned his lunch, but he didn't care at this point. He'd had enough to eat and didn't fancy going back inside just yet.
The bell rang ten minutes later, and Marty had no choice but to go back inside. He walked to his math class, keeping his arm tucked close to him. Most of the class were talking, and before he walked in the door, he could overhear some of their conversations.
"Did you hear about Marty's arms?"
"-littered with scars-"
"-mental wreck-"
"-self harm-"
As he walked in the door, the room went silent, all eyes on him. He sighed and walked to his seat and sat down, getting his book out. The teacher took the register and began teaching as normal.
But Marty's mind was in other places. He could feel the stares of everyone around him burning into the back of his neck, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He noticed the person next to him, a girl named Amy Hatfield, staring at his arm as if trying to see the scars underneath. When Marty pulled his arm closer to his body, the girl coughed awkwardly and looked away.
Marty breathed a huge sigh of relief as the bell rang at the end of the day, and he quickly grabbed his bag and left the room. As he went out into the hallway, he could still hear people talking about him. His ears burned and his cheeks went red as he headed towards the school gates. He wasn't surprised to find Doc's van parked on the sidewalk outside, waiting for him. He smiled; at least he had Doc to talk to.
He pulled the door open and got in, but Doc wasn't there. He shrugged and pulled the door shut. That was when he noticed Doc and Mr Strickland having a rather heated conversation. Strickland was jabbing his finger at Doc while Doc looked plain furious. They appeared to be shouting at each other, drawing attention from some of the students.
Dumping his bag in the van, Marty hopped out and walked over, his arms crossed.
"You're a delusional madman and a danger to society!" Strickland yelled. Marty could have sworn he could see the veins in his bald head pumping.
Doc glared. "I'll have you know that not one of my experiments has blown up in the last year!"
"Quite frankly I'm surprised you haven't been committed yet!"
"Ahem," Marty coughed, raising an eyebrow. "Mr Strickland is he bothering you?"
"Yes! Yes he is! Maybe you've finally realised wha-"
"Good," Marty cut him off with a smirk, grabbing Doc's arm and pulling him towards the van. Strickland's seething face was lost amongst the crowd of people filing out from the school.
"Well played Marty," Doc smirked as he got in the van, the teenager joining him.
Marty shrugged. "The guy's an asshole, Doc."
"So that was the infamous Strickland. I pictured him taller," Doc chuckled to himself as he drove off.
Marty snorted. "He only looks short to you because you're like six foot tall."
"I only look six foot tall to you because you're short," Doc countered.
Marty glared, elbowing Doc gently. Doc jabbed him back, and the two of them sat in silence for about thirty seconds, trying not to laugh. They both failed, and soon started laughing like idiots.
Once he'd caught his breath, Doc noticed Marty's torn sleeve. "What happened?"
Marty's expression suddenly changed, and the depressed look on his face came back. "Tiff grabbed my arm at lunch and as I tried to pull away from him, the sleeve ripped off and everyone in the canteen saw my arm. They were all whispering about it in my math class,"
Doc frowned. "Hopefully they'll be sympathetic towards you,"
Marty shrugged. "Hopefully,"
Doc looked over to him and patted his shoulder. Marty smiled. The van soon approached Doc's garage and he pulled in, turning the engine off. Both men got out and headed into the garage.
Marty was met by a cheerful and barking Einstein, whom he greeted equally as cheerfully, ruffling the dog's fur. Einstein wagged his tail and barked, jumping up at Marty. Doc smirked as Marty seemed to brighten up with the presence of the dog.
Doc waved for him to follow him over to his desk, where a complex piece of machinery sat. "It's a new addition to the DeLorean, it should hopefully reduce the speed required to travel through time," he explained, getting some tools.
Marty helped Doc fix some new parts on to the machinery, as the scientist explained what to do. Marty couldn't help but smile to himself as he worked. He'd missed being able to do this, he'd missed hanging out with Doc like this. It didn't take long for the two of them to finish, and Doc started the machine to see if it would run. It worked well for about ten seconds, before something went wrong, and it started shaking.
Doc pulled Marty to the floor, just as the machine exploded. Pieces of metal flew everywhere and Einstein hid behind the couch, whimpering. Smoke filled the room, and covered the faces of the pair. Their hair was blown back (Doc's even more than usual) and they both looked startled.
Their eyes met, and they both burst out laughing. The machine had been a complete and utter failure, but neither of them seemed to care. They just laughed and cleared up, throwing the disintegrated remains away and wiping the smoke from their faces.
"Well, that went well," Marty chuckled.
Doc shrugged. "Oh well, better luck next time," He replied. He checked the clock. "It's six o'clock ready to go home?"
Marty sighed. "I suppose so, I'm starving," he shrugged, grabbing his bag and flattening his hair down. He followed Doc out to the truck and got in.
The scientist drove towards Marty's house, and once there, he noticed Marty's parents were waiting outside. They ran over to him as he got out, looking worried yet relieved.
"Marty! Oh my gosh are you okay sweetheart?!" Lorraine gasped, quickly pulling her son into a hug, which Marty returned.
"Mom, I'm fine, honest," he smiled a little.
George soon embraced his son too, and Dave and Linda stood on the porch, both showing genuine concern. Marty gave them a shy wave, a faint smile on his face.
Doc got out of the van and walked over, grinning. George went over to him, shaking his hand frantically.
"You saved my son's life," he stammered. "We can't thank you enough,"
"It was no trouble at all," Doc insisted, grinning. "Marty's my friend,"
Marty smiled over his shoulder at him.
Doc waved to him as he headed back into his truck. "I'll pick you up at the same time tomorrow, alright?"
"See ya then!" Marty called, watching as Doc drove the truck off the driveway and around the corner of the street. He followed his parents back into the house. They were still asking him if he was alright, checking him over and asking him about the scars on his arms. He tried to answer as best he could, but he left out some details.
" - Tiff spent a lot of time sending me those notes," Marty said, but was cut off from finishing the sentence as George gasped.
"Tiff Tannen?! That little - I'm going to tell his father!" He exclaimed.
Marty ran a hand through his hair. "Dad, don't. I don't want you getting in trouble with Biff,"
George looked a little scared of the idea, but didn't say anything more.
Marty sighed. This was going to be tough.
…..
"So it sounds like school was a bit better today," Doc said. He'd just picked Marty up from school, and the teenager had told him about how the day had gone. It wasn't as bad as yesterday, mostly because now people understood why he had been feeling the way he was. The majority of people were sympathetic, and the ones who weren't ended up getting a lot of harsh looks. Jennifer had dumped Alex after hearing that he had been one of the main people sending the notes to Marty.
"Yeah, I managed to get through the day without being punched, which was good," Marty nodded. "Hopefully that'll be the end of it and I can just go back to being me,"
Doc grinned. "I'm sure you'll be fine,"
Marty smirked. As the van pulled to a stop outside Doc's place, he hopped out. Doc got out too and walked over to the front of the garage.
The loud roar of a car engine made them both whirl around. It was Tiff Tannen, with his usual gang of cronies. They'd been in serious trouble after the teachers had found out what had been happening to Marty, and to say they were pissed off was a complete understatement. Tiff's snarling face was behind the windshield as he drove the car directly towards the pair.
Marty didn't think twice about what he did next. He saw the car driving straight towards them, and with all his strength, he shoved Doc to the side, out of harm's way. The front of the car struck Marty hard, probably at about fifty miles per hour, and he was thrown back with a sickening crunch. The car steered out the driveway and went haring off up the road, out of sight.
Doc had fallen over, but when he looked up, he found Marty sprawled on the ground on his back. There was a large gash on the side of his head. He was out cold, his leg bent at a horrific angle and his side coated in blood. The scientist let out a scream, before running into the garage to dial 911. Once he was informed that an ambulance was on its way, he ran back outside.
Marty was silent and still, not moving at all. Faint gasps of breath escaped his mouth, indicating that he was still alive, but barely. Doc knelt beside him, keeping the teenager against his shoulder, one arm supporting him, the other trying to slow the flow of blood from his side. He was ghostly pale and gradually going cold, making Doc begin to panic.
The five minutes it took for the ambulance to arrive seemed like five years, but as Marty's unconscious body was loaded into the vehicle, he sighed in relief. At least now Marty could get some help. He headed back inside towards his phone, planning to call the McFlys. He quickly dialled the number and waited anxiously for a response.
"Hello?" George answered.
"Hello, George, it's Emmett," Doc took a deep breath. "I don't want to have to tell you this, but… Marty's been hit by a car,"
Doc could hear George nearly drop the phone. "What?! Who was driving it? Did you see?"
"Tiff Tannen," Doc replied. "He attempted to hit both of us, but Marty pushed me out of the way. Tiff drove off immediately after he'd struck Marty,"
"I'll be at the hospital in fifteen minutes," George replied, putting the phone down as he went to tell Lorraine.
Doc grabbed his coat and immediately got back into his truck, driving towards the hospital. His mind was in overdrive. He'd seen the state Marty was in, and he knew for a fact that if a person was struck by a car going at 40mph, there was a 20% chance of them surviving the hit. Anything over that and the chance of their survival decreased rapidly. At a speed of fifty miles per hour, there was an incredibly slim chance of Marty making it.
He screeched to a halt in the hospital parking lot twenty minutes later and got out, locking the van while simultaneously trying to pull his jacket on. He ran towards the front doors and noticed that George and Lorraine were sat in the waiting room.
Of course, Doc mused. Marty must be in the OR.
Catching his breath, Doc walked over to them calmly, noticing that Lorraine was sobbing and George himself looked teary. He took a seat beside them, patting Lorraine's arm. She looked up and quickly wiped the tears away.
"Thank you for calling us," she said, her voice hoarse. "If you hadn't we may have not found out until much later,"
Doc nodded. "I'm sure Marty will be alright," he said, although he wasn't so sure himself.
George let out a shaky breath. "I hope so, he's already been through too much, things a boy his age should never have experienced."
Doc nodded, lowering his head. He wished that he'd been the one who had been hit, Marty was far too young to have been almost killed by a car.
Soon, a doctor came out the OR and walked towards them, a grim look on his face. Doc swore he felt his heart stop - that expression could only mean the worst.
"Well, he's alive," the doctor said. "But.. I'm afraid he's going to be unconscious for a while, we've had to put him into a coma so that he can recover from the damage,"
Lorraine looked as though she'd been slapped. "He'll be okay, though?"
"He should be fine, although he had some serious damage to his organs and ribcage. Most of his ribs broke, causing one of his lungs to be punctured." The doctor gestured for them to follow him to another room, where some X-rays had been taken of Marty and were being displayed in front of a light box. He pointed out the teen's injuries. It was clear that he'd taken quite a beating from the car. "He's incredibly lucky to have survived. The surgeons didn't think he'd make it, on account of the injuries he sustained."
George kept his arms around Lorraine, who had tears running down her face again. Both parents nodded. "When will we be able to see him?"
"Straight away, although," the doctor cast a glance towards Doc, "Family members only until others are given consent,"
George nodded, and with that, the three of them followed the doctor towards the room where Marty was. Doc remained outside while Lorraine and George went inside.
From the sobbing heard from Lorraine, Doc could tell that the situation wasn't good. He waited nervously, and after an hour, the two McFly parents reappeared. Doc was allowed to go in and see Marty. He got up, took a deep breath and walked inside.
His heart skipped a beat.
Marty was still, aside from the steady rise and fall of his chest. An oxygen mask covered most of his face, and he was hooked up to an IV and a monitor. The green line that beeped frequently indicated that he was still alive, but he didn't look it. He was almost as white as the bedsheets. His right leg was in a cast, being supported by straps keeping it elevated. When Doc took one of his hands, it was cold. It was hard to imagine Marty looking so broken like this. There were no sleeves over his arms, so the many scars still covering his skin were fully visible.
Doc sat there in silence, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. Marty had been seriously injured by preventing Doc from being hit by a car. Rage boiled up inside the scientist. He would have a few choice words for the Tannens when he saw them. There was no way Tiff was going to get away with this. It was unacceptable. With any luck he would be arrested.
Of all the people in the world, why did this have to happen to Marty? The teen had only just stopped self-harming, and Doc had not long ago saved him from committing suicide. His emotions were not fully on track yet, and he was still underweight, and now this had happened. Marty didn't deserve any of this to have happened, and what was worse was that Doc couldn't use the DeLorean to prevent any of this from happening. If he messed up the timeline so that the events which sent him back never happened, then the whole space time continuum would be destroyed. Not to mention the fact that he'd already gone back once, to save Marty's life. Anything else he did to further alter the timeline could have catastrophic consequences.
No, he'd just have to hope that Marty would be alright. The teenager was strong-willed enough to get through this. He'd recover, get better again and he could finally resume his life as a normal teenager. So much had happened to him in such a short amount of time, it was unbelievable.
"Come on Marty," Doc murmured, squeezing the boy's hand. "You'll be okay, I promise."
….
A/N: Sorry for no update yesterday, I was out all day in a place with limited WiFi. I can write using Google Docs (the system I'm using for this) on my phone but it's really slow.
Thanks so much for the reviews! It's getting really intense and it's great that I know people are supporting me! Thanks again, so much. It really means a lot!