Notes: So, this is my first endeavor into the BTTF 'verse; I was just so inspired by these movies and the Telltale game that I simply had to write this. This particular fic takes place after the trilogy and after the Telltale game.

The villainess of this fic, Dr. Egret, was borrowed from another fandom of mine; when writing for a new fandom, I tend to bring in something from another fandom as a crutch. No prior knowledge of Dr. Egret is needed to enjoy this fic.

Living with multiple sets of memories was… a baffling thing at times. Marty McFly remembered the way things were before that fateful October night in 1985—just under a year ago, but it may as well have been a lifetime ago. …In a sense, it had been a lifetime—he had gone back in time, leaving behind a dysfunctional, suffering family and a dead best friend and mentor, and after inadvertently meddling in the affairs of his teenaged parents—nearly erasing himself from existence in the process—and practically begging his aforementioned best friend and mentor to trust him in regards to the warning he had to give him, Marty had returned to a different 1985; his parents were now happy and living their best lives, his family was thriving and offering a healthy home life, and Dr. Emmett Brown was alive and well. As the ripple effect (as Doc had called it) kicked in, Marty had found his head awash with new memories of a happier childhood… and yet, he had not lost the old ones—where his mother, Lorraine, had been an alcoholic, his father, George, had been a craven doormat of a man, and Marty had, subsequently, turned to Doc for support. The scientist had taken him under his wing after Marty had broken into his lab on a dare, no doubt preventing Marty's life from taking an even worse turn during his teen years—more than that, it had been his time machine that Marty had used to go back in time in the first place.

He owed Doc a lot—which was one of many reasons why Marty had been ready to move Heaven and Earth to save him. And he was glad that, even in the improved timeline, the scientist was still his mentor—a family friend to Marty's parents in this timeline, on account of Lorraine briefly meeting Doc as the uncle to Marty's pseudonym that he'd used during his trip to 1955; she and George had initially stayed in touch with Doc in the hopes of hearing again from "Calvin Klein," but they had ended up coming back repeatedly to get help with their science homework, and George had often found himself coming by even after graduation to toss around some sci-fi story ideas to get feedback on how plausible they might be. Doc had been invited to their wedding, and had ended up being a permanent fixture for the McFly family. In one set of Marty's memories, Doc had always just been there, but Marty was sure he would never forget the other timeline, when Doc had been the only supportive parental figure in his life.

And Marty knew never to take his current life for granted—not when he knew how one small thing could change it in a blink of an eye. He had seen other timelines that were never meant to have existed on account of his meddling—one where Biff Tannen had killed George and forced Lorraine into wedlock, and another where Marty had inadvertently set up Doc's younger self from 1931 with the malevolent and manipulative Edna Strickland, who had eventually turned him into a cold, totalitarian mastermind (while still somehow being just a puppet to that woman). Marty had managed to undo both of those terrible timelines, but the memories of what he had seen still remained (but, thankfully, not a lifetime's worth of them).

It was still a lot to think about—"heavy," as he'd describe it. The incident with Doc's corrupted timeline had occurred just a few months ago; it was over now, and Doc was back with the wife he was supposed to be with. …Well, perhaps that was a stretch to say, seeing as though the woman Doc had married was technically supposed to have died in 1885, but that was a change to the timeline that had benefitted everyone involved and had ruined no one. Marty liked Clara; it was clear that she loved Doc in spite of (or because of?) all of his eccentricities, as opposed to Edna, who had furiously changed him into her twisted vision of what she thought he should be. Marty was happy for Doc—for him and Clara; God knows Doc deserved that happiness.

George and Lorraine thought Clara was perfect for Doc, as well, and had welcomed her, along with her and Doc's two sons, Jules and Verne; in the past few months, the McFlys and the Browns had played host to each other for multiple casual dinner gatherings, with Lorraine shyly commenting that she knew it must be true love, for Clara looked at Doc the same way that she had looked at George when they'd kissed at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance. Marty had spaced out at that point—it had been a kiss that had almost not ended up happening, thus threatening his very existence.

Heavy… Marty thought again, staring up at the ceiling of his room.

It was currently mid-August, 1986—he'd just graduated high school a couple months ago. As for what lay ahead now… he didn't know. That was the entire problem. Society expected him to go to college; most of his peers had already been accepted—including Jennifer, who had left a few days ago to get a headstart on moving in to her new dorm.

But it wasn't as simple as that for Marty; he wasn't sure he was the college type at all. More than that, there was his music to consider—that was what he wanted to do with his life. And yet, the past week had brought many discussions between Marty and his parents about considering going to college.

"Marty!" Lorraine's voice called from downstairs. "Dinner's ready!"

"…And yours and Dad's latest arguments about my future," Marty quietly finished. Oh, he was well aware of how much worse his life could be; his parents from the other timeline wouldn't have been this involved and concerned about his future. It was nice to see them so concerned and involved now, but it was still frustrating when choosing between two different paths was hard enough as it was.

Sure enough, the dinner conversation was dominated by the topic, much to the annoyance of Marty's elder sister Linda (Dave, the oldest of the McFly children, was working late at the office—Marty suspected this was done intentionally for the sole purpose of avoiding said conversation for yet another night).

"Marty, it's not that we don't believe you can be a successful musician," George assured him. "It's just that we want you to think about having some sort of a safety net."

"That's right," Lorraine agreed. "Even with a successful music career, it's smart to have a backup, just in case."

"I know, I know," Marty sighed. "But do I have to go to college right now? I mean, it's August—too late to send admissions, anyway."

"There still might be openings in the local community colleges," Lorraine pointed out. "Linda, do you know if there are any—?"

"Oh, God, no, Mom," she pleaded. "The last thing I need is my little brother on the same campus as me, being that guy playing guitar in the dorm lounge!"

Marty shot her a dark look.

"Marty…" George sighed.

"I know, Dad," Marty said. "I get what you and Mom are saying—I really do. But what if this is my one shot to really get my music career going? Things could change in the four years I'd spend at college. I got a lot to think about."

"But you will give it some thought?" Lorraine asked.

"I have," Marty promised. "And I'm sure I will some more, too." He glanced at his now-empty plate and silently mulled over things again. With this many questions about his future, there was one place to go to figure out some answers. "…I'm going over to Doc's."

"Oh, Marty," Lorraine fretted. "I really don't think you should bother Dr. Brown about this."

"What do you mean?" Marty asked. "Doc's always given me advice when I needed it—especially about heavy stuff like this!"

"She means that Dr. Brown has enough to worry about now with a wife and kids," George explained. "If you went over there now, you'd probably be interrupting their dinner."

"…Oh…"

"I know Dr. Brown has helped you out a lot," Lorraine added. "But you can't keep running to him with every problem you've got, especially since he's probably been spending his days dealing with his own kids' problems."

Marty hadn't really thought of that; he'd been so used to just dropping by Doc's place whenever he needed to, in this timeline and the other one. And, of course, there was everything that they'd been through together on their time-traveling adventures, which George and Lorraine had no clue about—but each one had been one trial by fire after another for him and Doc. Even after Doc had settled back in Hill Valley after traveling around with Clara and the kids, he had insisted that Marty was welcome to drop by at any time, just like before. …But, perhaps, it wouldn't be right to just take advantage of that open invitation.

"Okay…" Marty sighed. "I guess I'll just… head out for a bit and think about stuff on my own."

"Don't stay out too late," George called after him, as Marty picked up his skateboard and his Walkman.

"Right," Marty promised, slipping the Walkman's headphones over his ears and heading out the door.

He hopped onto his skateboard and rode down the street as the sounds of Bon Jovi's Slippery When Wet cassette filled his ears. It was a new release, only a few days old—and Marty had found himself obsessed with it, having already lost count of how many times he'd listened to it, particularly the first side. He'd be lying if he didn't admit that the tape was partly the reason why he'd been reminded about wanting to focus on his own music career—this must've been what it was like to look at a new work of art by a master, for this tape was pure art as far as Marty was concerned.

With the wind in his hair and the songs in his ears, Marty rode through town on his board, past familiar haunts as he softly sang along to the tape and as dusk slowly began to creep across the sky.

"I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride…"

He'd just boarded past the sign near the train tracks that read "Eastwood Ravine" as he'd sung that, and he had to let out a snort of laughter at the perfect timing. He'd borrowed the alias of "Clint Eastwood" during his attempt to rescue Doc in 1885; things hadn't gone according to plan at all and he had, initially, come back alone—Doc and Clara must've been responsible for the ravine's final name, he realized.

The trestle ahead was suddenly illuminated from behind by a car that had stopped at the railroad crossing, angled towards him and honking its horn. Marty frowned, but he stopped, glancing back in mild annoyance to see a woman with dark sunglasses sitting in the front passenger seat, waving him over. Marty didn't move, but he did remove the headphones from one of his ears.

"Hello…?" he asked.

"You're Martin McFly, aren't you?" the woman asked, removing her sunglasses to get a better look at him.

Alarm bells rang in Marty's brain; there were only a few reasons why a strange person would recognize him on sight—and the only good reason out of those would be if she was a music producer or talent scout. And he was pretty sure she wasn't either of those.

And so, he remained silent.

"I understand that you're an acquaintance of Dr. Emmett Brown?" the woman continued. "My name is Dr. Egret. I need to get in touch with Dr. Brown right away—it's a matter of utmost urgency concerning what he knows about time travel."

More warning bells were ringing in Marty's head.

"I think you got the wrong number, Lady," he said. "I don't know anyone who'd know anything about time travel."

Dr. Egret blinked.

"Well, I know that isn't true," she said. She held up a scanner-like device that seemed to be attached to a large piece of machinery in the back of the car. "According to this, you're absolutely covered in tachyon residue—something that could only happen to a time traveler. My device can sense and manipulate tachyons and tachyon residue, but it has no control over where or when it can send people to—I need Dr. Brown's assistance to gain control over my device's inability to set a destination. And that's where you come in, Mr. McFly—I'm sure you'll have a far easier time persuading Dr. Brown to help than I ever could."

Marty froze; he'd heard Doc mention something about tachyons before—particles that moved faster than light and had something to do with the bending of space-time, which allowed for time travel. He'd had no idea they could stick to a person, but he supposed that it made sense that there was still a lot that he didn't know.

But that wasn't important now; he had to get out of here and warn Doc about Dr. Egret!

Marty retreated on his board towards the railroad trestle, hoping to go where her car couldn't follow him; coolly, Egret aimed the scanner-like device at him and pressed a button. A brilliant bolt of light just missed Marty; he swore loudly, now trying to zig-zag on his board and present himself as a harder target.

"What are you doing!?" Egret's driver exclaimed.

"I think Dr. Brown's willingness to cooperate will be greater if he knows that his apprentice is lost somewhere in time and space," Egret replied, calmly, as she continued to aim her device at Marty. "He'd sell his soul to find him."

"But there's no way of knowing where or when he'll end up!" the driver pointed out. "What if he ends up somewhere in space and time that could be fatal?"

"It doesn't matter to me if he's alive or not," she returned. "All that matters is that Dr. Brown thinks he is."

Marty was almost out of range; she'd have to make her last shot count, and so, she waited. Marty hesitated for just a moment, realizing that she'd stopped; as he turned to look back to double-check, she seized the moment when he was distracted.

The next bolt caught him squarely in the chest, knocking him off of his skateboard; Marty hit the tracks hard, stars filling his vision as the side of his head hit the metal part of the track. The bolt of light surrounded him, but he felt numb to it, despite that it was clearly reacting to the tachyon residue all over him.

And in an instant, he had vanished from the spot. His vision was momentarily filled with blinding lights in all sorts of colors as he journeyed through the Time Vortex.

And then, suddenly, it was over—all the lights, all the bolts, and everything. It was dusk again, and Marty was picking himself up from the railroad tracks. The side of his head was throbbing, and he was incredibly dizzy, but he knew he had to keep moving.

I gotta find him… I gotta find… Wait… Who was I supposed to find?

He sunk to his knees beside the tracks, desperately trying to hold on as everything continued to spin and swim around him.