Disclaimer: I don't own Back to the Future.
Author's Note: Yup, another update, just two weeks after the last one! This chapter doesn't actually do all that much in terms of plot progress, but it does shed some light on strange behavior we've previously seen from Marty. Next chapter will provide a similar explanation for someone else.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sunday, November 13, 1955
08:00 AM PST
Hill Valley, California
The first thing Marty noticed when he woke up was that his back hurt. While he was accustomed to sleeping in the strangest ways without much pain, he had always liked having a comfortable mattress to sleep on, like anyone would, and he had gone through great lengths to help select one for his bed. However, his mattress wasn't anything like what he was sleeping on now. He was lying on something hard, presumably metal, and although he had a pillow, even that wasn't as soft as it normally was. Marty thus concluded relatively soon that wherever he was, he was not in his own bed.
Which left him with the question of where else he could be. Could he be at Doc's place, having fallen asleep on the couch, and then having fallen off it and onto a metal plate the inventor used for one of his inventions? No, that couldn't be it – in that case, Marty was sure he would have woken up, no matter how tired he was.
The teen groaned, becoming aware of some noises near him. A faint snoring sound reached his ears, and he could hear the wind blowing – although he knew he wasn't outside, considering the temperature. Wasn't it October right now, after all? The teen tried to wrack his head for a hint to where he was, but couldn't find anything. Perhaps, though he remained tired, he'd be better off accepting the inevitable and opening his eyes.
When he did so, Marty found himself in a completely unfamiliar room. However, it barely took one disorientated second before he started remembering. He was in the train, in Doc's time train, having fallen asleep in 1955 after...
Marty shuddered as he remembered Biff's untimely accident. As much as he hated Biff Tannen, he didn't wish the grumpy old bully the fate he had eventually had. The thought of crashing to death in such a horrid storm – well, at least it had to have been quick, but… the teen shuddered again. No. He wouldn't think about any more details. His stomach was too weak for that right now.
Trying to distract himself, he looked around the room. Near him was Clara, and behind her were two boys he identified as Jules and Verne, their kids. All three of them were sleeping peacefully. He didn't know where Doc was, but from his memory of the last night, he guessed the scientist was outside, trying to clear up the DeLorean wreckage. He grimaced. That trail of thought was leading him straight back to last night's crash. He'd better concentrate on Doc's wife and kids, then.
Doc's wife and kids. It was a strange thought, and not just because Marty had known his best friend to be single for… well, for as long as he had known him. There was also the fact that this hammered home to Marty that this Doc wasn't his Doc. This Doc was from the future, for as far as such a concept could exist in this journey that was so intertwined with time travel. From Doc's point of view, a lot of things had already happened between them that Marty could only guess about just yet, and a lot more things would be happening in Marty's future that Doc already knew of, and he didn't.
Of course, that wasn't entirely true. One event he did know about, and that was because it was written down in a newspaper. Marty sat up, stretched and reached into his pocket and pulled out the 1994 paper that Doc had given him. The headline had originally read 'Martin Tannen Head of Police Force' and now read 'Martin McFly Appointed Rocker of the Year'. Marty figured that in all the hectic of yesterday's events, the paper had slipped his friend's mind – under normal circumstances, he would never have been allowed to keep such a newspaper. As it was, it gave him an amazing look at what his future would be.
And yet, every time he stared at the paper, his eyes were drawn not to the text, but to the accompanying picture. His older self, aged twenty-six, looked happy… but not extremely. Marty had recognized some hidden sadness in his eyes, despite the feigning of happiness, a feeling he might have never discovered had he not been the very person in that picture. Older Marty missed someone, someone who should have been at that special moment.
And from what Marty had heard of his future thus far, he was certain that certain someone was Doc.
It was logical, too. From what he now knew of the future – or was it the past? – Doc would not return home with him tomorrow (or seventy years ago). Rather, he would end up trapped in 1885, marry Clara, have two kids with her, build a time machine…
…and stay in the Old West permanently, with no reason or wish to return.
Marty shivered. The thought of losing his best friend forever, with the exception of some short visits, made him uncomfortable. Of course, if Doc was going to end up happy in the past, he had no right to infringe on that. He remembered all the times he had bothered Doc when he was still young, coming to him with silly questions or issues. And yet, the inventor had always taken time to attend to his troubles. No matter if it was a science issue at school or a break-up with his girlfriend of the day, Doc would always be there to offer advice – even if some parts of it were more effective than others – and to provide a listening ear. Doc had helped him out so many times, and it was about time the inventor got a chance to live out his own life.
Looking at the others in the train, Marty could almost feel happy for his friend. Clara Clayton was actually a really nice woman when he wasn't looking at her as a roadblock on their return home, one whose character matched with Doc's. The teen was sure Doc had never expected to find someone like her, and the thought that he had, that she liked him too, and that they had kids together… it dazzled him, and Marty was sure it dazzled Doc, too. He had gained all that in the past – how could Marty possibly expect him to return home for one teenager?
And yet, somewhere in his subconscious, Marty knew that was exactly what he did. Back in 1955 – or more accurately, now – he hadn't been able to cope with the thought that Doc was stuck in 1885 for good, despite Doc's explicit instructions not to come back. He had toyed with the idea of going to 1885 to rescue his friend even before they had found his grave, and he wasn't sure he could cope with the idea of never seeing his lifelong mentor again this time around, no matter how happy he was for Doc and Clara.
As Marty was still worrying about that, he suddenly heard footsteps outside. Moments later, he could hear the faint noise of the train door opening – probably aided by future technology, as normal 19th Century steam trains were in all likelihood much noisier – and he saw Doc stepping in. The inventor looked around at the various cabinets, but his gaze stopped on Marty when he saw the teenager's eyes were open.
"You're awake" he said, softly. "Good."
"What time is it?" Marty replied, just as soft – Doc probably didn't want to wake his family, and the teen had no reason to counter that objective.
"It's Sunday, November 13th 1955, 8.07 A.M." Doc replied. As if that wasn't enough, he added: "We're just about two miles south of the city centre of Hill Valley, California."
"Nice" Marty deadpanned. "How long have you been awake?"
The inventor shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I believe I woke up shortly before dawn" he replied. "That was convenient – I managed to get much of what we needed done that way. I managed to get most of the car wreck out of the ravine, as well as disposing of the… well, you know." He cast a glimpse over at his sons, who were still sleeping but might wake up at any moment. "The non-mechanical parts. Furthermore, I drew up plans for today and how we're going to handle the whole situation adequately. There's still a lot to be done, never mind the fact that we no longer have to chase anyone through time anymore."
Marty nodded. "I see" he murmured. "You did all of that in two hours? Even lifting the time machine parts out of the ravine?"
Doc shrugged. "It wasn't that hard" he replied. "Just a matter of working hard and being determined. And some of the jobs could be combined easily. But if you want to give me a hand with the remaining work…"
"No problem" Marty replied, standing up and stretching his arms. "What do you need me for?"
"Basically, to help take apart some of the bigger parts, and move the remaining bits at the bottom of the ravine up" Doc replied. "I want to take the entire DeLorean along at once – I can't risk any part being left behind here where it doesn't belong. I don't think it should be much work, not anymore, but it'll take another hour in all likelihood."
"Okay" Marty said. "How about breakfast, though? I don't know about you, but I'm starving. It's been some time since I last ate."
"Come to think of it, I wouldn't mind a proper meal either" Doc replied. "I suppose that either after we're done, I could send you uptown to buy some – or I'd have to send Clara, of course, provided she wakes up in the intermediate time."
"What about me?" Clara asked, blinking and looking up at her husband and his friend. "Emmett, I don't know whether you were trying not to be heard, but if that was the case, you should've tried harder. You woke me up."
"I'm sorry, Clara" Doc apologized. "I tried to talk as soft as I could, but I must have talked louder than I thought. We were discussing what we're going to do today."
"So I guessed" Clara said. "It's all right, Emmett – I want to help. What do you want me to do?"
"Doc wants you to go uptown and fetch us breakfast" Marty answered for him. "I'm not sure if that's such a good idea, though. You've never been in 1955 before, and it's a hell of a long walk back uptown."
Clara frowned at his language, and shrugged. "I think I can manage" she said. "Life in the 19th Century is tougher than what you must be used to in this century. I'm used to regular long walks, to town and to the school, and even though I rode my horse on most of those journeys, I'd say I'm perfectly capable of getting uptown and back easily."
"I wasn't trying to offend you, ma'am" Marty said.
"It's all right" Clara replied. "I'm sure you meant well. But I am just as sure that I will be able to find my way uptown and back easily, given some directions – and some money, of course. It's mostly one straight road to Hill Valley, isn't it?"
"Not exactly, since you'd still have to walk for a while more before you get to that road, but mostly, yes, you could just follow the road" Doc said. "All right, if you're willing to arrange breakfast, you can go ahead. Marty, why don't I show you what I want you to do, and then I'll explain everything to Clara and rejoin you afterwards."
"Sounds good to me, Doc" Marty replied. "What about Jules and Verne?"
"They'll just have to amuse themselves in here" Doc replied. "I don't think I can trust them with either of the jobs – Jules may be bright, but he's still a kid, and so is Verne. It would be irrational of me to presume that they could help us out, which means they will have to stay in here."
"Yeah, that's probably the best option" Marty muttered, staring at his friend's sleeping kids. "Well, I guess I'll see you in a minute then, Doc."
He stepped out of the time train, sniffing the fresh morning air and taking some deep breaths before looking at the debris Doc had gathered next to the train. The teen shook his head at the sight – he'd never imagined seeing the DeLorean so damaged before. With the exception of the bottom, which was still intact, he could barely recognize any complete part of the vehicle at all. "This is heavy" he groaned.
As he took a step forward, his eye then dropped on the flux capacitor, which was now about as dead as it could be without being shattered altogether. Looking over at the time circuits, he could see that they were mostly intact as well – Doc had probably made them out of sturdy material – but they, too, were dead. The teen sighed – if Doc ever wanted to reassemble this time machine, he was going to have a long job in front of him. As he walked over to the edge of the cliff, he could see a fair amount of debris at the bottom of the ravine as well – granted, it was fairly hard to see, but he was looking at it from a high altitude. Marty guessed that there was still a lot of work to be done before he could – finally – go home again.
