Chapter 9
Saturday, December 21st, 1985
Hill Valley, California
7: 34 P. M.
Doc had lain awake all day, consumed by grief. His best friend was slowly dying, and there was nothing anyone could do to help. Memories of every moment he and Marty had shared flashed through his brain. He didn't want them to end. Losing Marty was like having his heart yanked out of his chest. A few tears slid down his cheeks.
Downstairs, he could hear Lorraine sobbing. She had been weeping almost non-stop since they had heard the news in the hospital yesterday. Doc didn't blame her-he'd been crying quite a bit himself. He sighed deeply and wondered what eternity would be like without his best friend at his side.
A tap at the window distracted him from his thoughts. He looked over to see Mystie at the glass. He got up slowly and opened it for her. "Did you hear?" he mumbled as she climbed in.
"You're the one who told me," Mysteria gently reminded him, giving him a big hug. Doc accepted it gratefully. She was the only thing keeping him sane right now. "Emmett, I came to offer you hope."
"What hope? Marty's dying. Sucker couldn't kill me, but he managed to kill my best friend-, which is worse. It's horribly ironic, isn't it? Just a week ago I was the one who was dead. What hope do I have left, besides you?" He plopped down dejectedly on the bed.
Mysteria sat down next to him. "Emmett, he doesn't have to die at all. You can save him."
Doc jerked his head up, startled. "You mean- by making him- like us? By making him a vampire?" he asked, for a moment hoping. That was definitely a way to beat death.
"No," Mysteria said. Seeing Doc's face crumble, she hurried on. "There's another way. Remember that first night when we wondered how you became a vampire? I told you that drinking vampire blood doesn't make the change. What I didn't tell you is that it gives humans who drink it certain vampire powers. They can sense the presence of other vampires, they can share thoughts with the vampire whose blood they drank, they are much stronger, and they can heal nonfatal wounds, like bruises. It takes longer, but they can do it. It's called a blood-link."
Doc stared at her a moment. Then a smile slowly appeared on his face. "And if I have Marty drink my blood, he can force his organs to heal?" Mysteria nodded. "Oh, Mystie, you're an angel!" He threw his arms around her and kissed her hard. "How exactly do I blood-link with him?"
"You'll need to drink a little of his blood, then let him have some of yours. His organs should start healing right away. Within a week, he should be fine, and you two will be closer than ever." She smiled. "Like myself and Jenny. I already blood-linked with her, just to make sure she would be okay. They're my friends too, so...."
"I know," Doc said tenderly. "That's why I want to marry you. We all get along so well, we should be a family."
"And we certainly don't want to lose your unofficial son," Mysteria told him. "Do it now, before anyone comes upstairs."
"I will. Thank you again, and again- a googolplex of agains!" They kissed once more, then Mysteria took her leave. Doc, smiling broadly, went immediately to his friend's room. Marty was lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Hey, Marty."
Marty glanced at him with red eyes. "Hey, Doc," he mumbled dejectedly, his eyes going back to the ceiling. Then he did a double take, staring at Doc's face. "Doc, you're smiling."
"I know I'm smiling." Doc sat down on the bed as Marty lifted himself into a sitting position.
"But why?" Marty demanded. "I didn't hear the phone. I haven't got a reprieve." His voice cracked. "Doc, I don't wanna die. I'm 17. That's nothing. Nothing, God DAMN it!" He pounded his fist onto the bed. "I want to have a least a few more years. Enough to actually have a taste of life."
"Marty, you have gotten a reprieve," Doc whispered, his eyes intense. "A reprieve I can give you."
Marty looked at him, startled. "I guess eternity's better than just 17," he admitted, although he didn't sound as enthusiastic as you might expect.
"No, no, Marty. I'm not referring to the passing on of the vampire disease into your system," Doc corrected him.
"You're not? Then what's the reprieve?"
"Having you drink my blood. It will give you some of my vampire powers, including the ability to heal your injuries. If we share our blood-it's called blood-linking- you will be able to force your organs to heal."
Marty's eyes lit up. "And I'll still be able to do stuff like a regular kid?" Doc nodded enthusiastically. "Doc, this is the best news I've ever heard! 'Cause I have to admit, I didn't want to be a 17-year-old vampire. I'd take it if there wasn't a choice, but I'd rather you ask again when I'm 45 or something."
Doc chuckled. "All right, I will." He scooted closer to Marty, who bared his neck. Doc extended his fangs and bit into the flesh. Not being hungry, his eyes remained normal.
He took 2 swallows, then retracted his fangs. Marty looked nervously at him. "Doc, how much do I need to drink?"
"Just a few mouthfuls, Marty," Doc assured him. He had forgotten to clip his nails yesterday, resulting in small claws. Pulling open his shirt, he used one to make a cut right over his heart. He noticed Marty rubbing his hands as he did so. "Nervous?"
"That too, but they're kinda cold," Marty informed him. Doc took Marty's hands into one of his as he leaned forward. The teen hesitated an instant, then put his mouth to the sealing wound. Doc rubbed the back of his neck to calm him as he drank the blood, completing the link.
Unfortunately, both Doc and Marty were so focused on their task that neither heard Linda come towards the back of the house, to her bedroom. She passed by Marty's room on her way, and happened to glance in the door the instant Marty began drinking Doc's blood.
She froze, stunned by the scene before her. It appeared to her Doc was forcing Marty to drink his blood, pushing his mouth against the wound. Horrified, she screamed.
Doc and Marty jerked their heads up, startled. Linda shrieked again and ran back towards the living room. "Mom! Dad! Come quick!"
"Shit, my parents!" Marty gasped, wiping his mouth. "They'll kill both of us!"
"Lie down and pretend you're asleep," Doc commanded, quickly rebuttoning his shirt. "I'll make myself scarce." He yanked open the window and flew out. Marty flopped down on the bed and shut his eyes.
And not a moment too soon! Linda reappeared, dragging along Lorraine and George. "Here they are! Doc's-"
She stopped as she took in the scene. Marty was lying on the bed, apparently asleep. Doc had vanished without a trace. "Not here," she finished, confused. "Where'd he go?"
Lorraine and George glanced around the room. Everything seemed to be in order to them. "Linda, we really shouldn't stress Marty," Lorraine said gently.
"But Doc was making Marty drink his blood! I saw him pushing his face into the cut. He was holding his hands away from him, too, so he couldn't get away," Linda insisted. "I know a few people who like to cut each other, but that's just wrong."
George glanced at Marty. "Your brother appears to be sleeping soundly. If Doc had forced him to drink his blood, I think he'd be crying or yelling for us."
"How could I imagine something like that?" Linda demanded, catching George's implied meaning. "How?"
"I don't know, honey," Lorraine replied for her husband. "All we can see is that Doc's not here." She noticed the open window. "I thought I told Marty to keep that window closed. It'll be like a freezer in here." She closed and locked it.
"I bet Doc escaped through the window!" Linda exclaimed excitedly. "And Marty was so stunned, he fainted!"
"Why would Doc go out a window? His room is right next to Marty's," George pointed out. "He's probably in there, too depressed to move." He checked. "What the-he isn't here."
"See?" Linda beamed, then frowned. "Good grief, Doc's a wacko."
"You know, I've been meaning to talk to Doc about his odd behavior," George confessed. "If what Linda saw was real, the poor guy might need professional help. I think we'll have a chat tomorrow. But, in the meantime, I don't want to disturb your brother. He's got enough to deal with without us grilling him."
"Okay, Dad," Linda said, a little reluctantly. "I won't say anything unless Marty says it first. I gotta go; Ryan or Colin should be calling me soon. Keep a close eye on him though, okay?" Linda disappeared down the hall. After a brief double-check, George and Lorraine left too.
Marty remained still until he heard their footsteps fade. Then he sat up. "Hey, Doc!" he thought. "Doc, where'd you go?"
Doc appeared at the window, upside-down! He was clinging to the wall. "I hid on the roof. Are they gone?" he asked mentally.
"Yeah, they're- Holy shit, Doc! I just heard your thoughts!"
"I know. That's one of the powers that comes with a blood-link. The electrical impulses of our minds must be in synch, allowing us to perceive each other's thought processes. Could you open the window for me?"
"Sure." Marty got up and pulled it open. "Come in, Master," he added, mentally imitating Renfield. Doc chuckled as he crawled in and dropped to the floor. "Linda saw it all, Doc. Dad wants to talk to you tomorrow."
"Uh-oh. That isn't good. If George realizes what I am, it could place all of us in even more danger."
"I know! He could stick a stake through you, or worse, burn you." Marty shuddered at the thought. "I don't want to lose you for good, Doc."
"Just like I didn't want to lose you," Doc 'replied'. "Don't worry, Marty, I'll figure out something."
They remained quiet for a bit, thinking over the latest developments. Then Marty heard, very faintly, 2 distinct thumpings. Puzzled, he looked at Doc. "Doc, do you hear those thumps?" he asked vocally.
Doc nodded, frowning. "They're rapidly increasing in amplitude. Listen."
Sure enough, the thumpings got louder. Soon they sounded like powerful drums, pounding in their ears. The pulsations of the beats could be felt throughout their bodies, but especially in their chests. They stared at each other, wondering what they could be.
Doc suddenly recognized them. "My God....Marty, do you know what those thumps are? Our heartbeats. I can actually feel your heart beating in my chest. Exchanging our blood must have created a powerful bond indeed."
"That's your heartbeat?" Marty asked in wonder. "Whoa, just like in Interview With The Vampire, with Louis and Lestat."
"I didn't know you read Anne Rice."
"It was for English over the summer. It was pretty cool." He looked down at his chest as the sensations subsided somewhat. "Freaky, though, how my life is starting to imitate it."
"Your life?" Doc asked, half sarcastically. He listened to Marty's heartbeat for a moment. "Your heart already sounds better," he said in relief. "In a week, you should be fine."
"Great!" Marty smiled and sat down on his bed again. "You know what, Doc? I really like being able to feel your heartbeat."
"Well, I certainly like feeling yours." They hugged.
Saturday, December 21st
11: 43 P. M.
George McFly sat on the couch in the living room, still wide awake. He just couldn't stop trying to make sense of the past few days. "Why can't the McFlys have a normal life?" he complained out loud. "This sort of wacky thing has been happening even before today. Lorraine and I fell in love because of a mysterious kid named Calvin Klein who was in Hill Valley for a week. In 1982, our youngest son-who by some freak coincidence, looks just like Calvin- befriends Doc, the man everyone says is a lunatic. Just a week ago, Doc appeared to have died suddenly. Then, 3 days later, he comes back to life! Yesterday, Marty was beaten up by a mysterious man and told he was going to die. Now Linda says she saw Marty being forced by Doc to drink Doc's blood!" He sighed deeply and shook his head. "It's enough to make your head spin. I should write up my family's life story and sell it as my next novel. It would be an instant best-seller."
With another sigh, he tried to think of some way to talk to Doc about his strange behavior. "More weirdness here, but of a scarier sort. He sleeps all day and stays up all night. He doesn't eat food anymore, and if Lorraine forces him to, he throws it up again. He vanishes for about an hour every couple of days in that DeLorean of his, and when he returns, he acts like he's been gone longer. And now supposedly he forced his best friend to do something completely disgusting. He's a really nice guy, though, and Dr. Conner's call said that he was okay. I'm just worried about him. And I can't talk to Marty about it. He'll just get upset, and the last thing I want for him now is for him to be unhappy. So how do I talk to Doc about it?"
"Troubled, Mr. McFly?"
George jumped. Biff Tannen was standing by the front door, smirking. He seemed to have materialized there. "Biff! How'd you get in?"
"You should find a better place to hide your spare key, George." Biff tossed him the key, which George automatically caught. "I heard about Marty. I'm sorry."
"What do you want, Biff?" George asked. He had never truly liked the man who waxed his car. They had clashed too many times over the years to ever become friends.
"What makes you think I want anything?" Biff wandered into the living room.
"You always do."
"Okay, if we're gonna be honest- I want to make a deal." Biff sat down next to George. "I help your son, you help me."
"What's your plan? Kill my kid right now?" George asked sarcastically.
"That's about as funny as a screen door on a tank," Biff said.
"Submarine, Biff," George sighed. Biff could never get those sayings right.
"Whatever. Listen, George, you want Marty to get better, right? I can do that for you. I've got friends who can fix him up right away. Or you could be a butt-head and watch him die. Your call."
This sounded a lot like Biff's old 'deals' with him to get his lunch money. "What do you get out of it?" he inquired.
Biff smirked again. "Lorraine."
"LORRAINE?!" George gasped, shocked.
"Right. She's still a real catch after 30 years, George. I'd love for her to be my wife and step-mom to Jiff." An absolutely sickening grin came over his face. "Of course, I'd have to teach her a few things about being my girl...." He smiled dreamily off into space for a moment, then came back. "So, do we have a deal?"
"Get out of my house, you perverted bastard!" George demanded, furious. "I can't believe you think I'd do that to Lorraine! Get out! And don't come back here again! I don't trust you or your mysterious friends!"
"This from a guy who's letting the local nutcase stay at his place," Biff snapped, getting up. "He should be in a nuthouse, the freak."
"Doc's a wonderful guy. It's you who should be in the nuthouse! I can't believe I ever let you wax my car! Get out!"
Biff glared at him, hatred burning bright in his eyes. "You're gonna be sorry you said that, McFly," he growled. "Real sorry." He stalked out and slammed the door.
George quickly got up and relocked it. He was still furious, but he was also a little scared. He had never seen Biff so mad. And his tone of voice as he had said those final words gave him the chills. "Maybe I should call the police in the morning."
He finally headed back to his room. On the way, he checked on his son. Marty was sound asleep in his clothes again, curled up on his side, one hand on his chest right over his heart. A very peaceful smile was on his face. "Funny how when he's dying, he can look so happy," George commented quietly, resisting tears. He went back into his bedroom.
He didn't know the peaceful smile had been caused by the steady thump of Doc's heart in Marty's chest. Nor did he know that the scorned Biff was planning to kill him.
At least, not yet....