Chapter 7

Tuesday, April 22nd, 1986

Hill Valley

5: 03 P. M.

Marty stirred. His whole body ached more than usual. He slowly opened his eyes to find himself in a very white room. Am I dead? Do I want to know if I'm not? "Hello?" he called weakly.

A woman in a nurse's uniform poked her head into the room. "Oh, you're up," she said, making it sound like he had just risen from the dead.

"Where am I?" Marty asked plaintively, trying to remember when he was brought here.

"St. Daphne's Hospital. We brought you and Dr. Brown in last night." She very carefully checked his vitals. "You poor boy. Everyone in Hill Valley knows the whole story. It's a miracle you were rescued when you were."

Marty closed his eyes, not wanting to think about that. Now that he was more awake, he could feel bandages wrapped around most of his body. His left arm seemed to be functioning again too. "How bad is it?"

"You're a very lucky boy. Both Dr. Caldwell and Dr. Conner think you'll recover, although you were very beat up, I won't lie about that. There's some injuries that could turn serious, but Dr. Caldwell is coming in to tell you about those."

The name "Dr. Caldwell" abruptly triggered Marty's memory. Isn't that Doc's doctor? "Shit, Doc!" he gasped, trying to sit up. "Where is he? Is he okay?"

"Hush Marty, don't exert yourself," the nurse said gently but firmly, holding him down. "Dr. Brown's all right. He's got a nasty cut in one shoulder, but that should heal in time. As for where he is--" She drew back the curtain separating the room into two halves. Doc was passed out in the other bed, snoring slightly. "Dr. Caldwell says he's got about 36 hours to make up when it comes to sleep. I don't expect him to come to anytime soon."

Marty looked at him. Doc looked extremely peaceful, sprawled across the bed with one arm hanging off. In fact, if Marty had been in a better state of mind, he might have even used the word "cute" to describe his friend. But all Marty could think was how much he looked like Jack. Shaking, he had to turn away before he started remembering what had happened to him in that hell.

The nurse frowned. "I'm sorry, Marty. Here, I'll close it."

Marty confused her by shaking his head. "No. You can leave it open."

"But if seeing him bothers you so much, we should really leave it closed."

Marty glanced back at Doc. His head felt like it was going to explode. On the one hand, Doc had saved his life, had risked his own life to rescue him. And judging by his exhausted look, Doc had been through hell in the time he'd been gone. But on the other hand, he looked just like Jack. And if Jack could be like that, who knew what skeletons Doc could have in his closet? Why had he waited so long to save him? It was all too confusing for the teen.

The nurse came over and patted him on the back. "You poor dear. Everything's going to be fine now."

Marty shook his head, starting to cry. "No it won't. It'll never be fine again."

"Oh, honey, don't be like that." She smiled at him. "Do you need anything? Like a bedpan?"

The teen's stomach growled. "Some food would be nice." He tried to keep from giving the overly perky nurse a nasty look.

"I'll grab something for you out of the office. In the meantime, you've got some visitors." She walked out, leaving Marty alone with the sleeping scientist. He snuck a look at his friend, then lay down, his face turned away from Doc. It was too hard to look at him and not think of the past days.

He shivered as his mind involuntarily went back to the warehouse basement. He could still feel those chains fastened around his wrists, scraping his skin raw. The overly clean smells of the hospital were transformed in his mind into the ammonia and other chemicals Jack kept around to keep the machines in perfect working order. He shut his eyes and tried to think of something else, but that simply made it worse. His entire mind was consumed by his memories, forcing him to relive his experiences over and over again. Tears trickled down his face as he felt Jack's fists slam into him again and again. Damn, why can't it all just stop?

"Marty?"

Marty yelped and nearly fell off the bed. He felt someone quickly catch him and pull him back. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Lorraine said. "Are you all right?"

Marty was tempted briefly to snap back something sarcastic, but didn't really feel like it. "I was remembering," he said quietly, not looking at her.

He felt someone's arm slip gently across his shoulders. "My poor little boy," Lorraine said. Her voice sounded like she was crying hard. He glanced over to see that was exactly the case. "I don't know what to say besides I'm sorry."

George came in front of him, looking teary himself. "I'm so glad we got you back, son."

"I'm glad to be back." He allowed his father to hug him, ignoring the pain that came from it. "Dad, I was so afraid I'd never see you again."

"Well, you're here now, and safe. It seems you were gone a lot longer than just six days."

It had been barely a week he had been in that monster's clutches? "Tell me about it. What's today?"

"The 22nd," Dave's voice came. Marty finally looked around to see he was surrounded by his family. "Shit, bro, you look like hell."

"I feel like hell," Marty sighed, lying down again. "How long am I going to have to stay here?"

"I'm afraid for a while," George sighed. "The doctors say you'll recover, but they want to keep a close eye on you for the next week or so. And Dr. Conner suggested quite strongly that we set up some appointments with a counselor for you."

Marty blinked. Counselor? I have to go see a shrink? Thanks a lot, Dad. I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.

The nurse returned with a tray, followed closely by Dr. Caldwell, Jennifer, and Emily. Jennifer was sobbing hysterically. "It's all my fault! I was the one who saw Jack pick him up, I should have yelled or something. Damn it Marty, I'm so sorry."

"Jennifer. Oh, are you a sight for sore eyes -- literally," Marty weakly joked.

"Jennifer, it wasn't your fault," Emily said soothingly. "How could you have known he wasn't Emmett? Jack can be a very good actor when the times call for it."

"Yeah, he fooled me, didn't he?" Marty said, feeling a chill as he heard the name. "And anyways Jen, if he had known you were there--" He closed his eyes and shook as he thought about what could have happened to his girlfriend. Lorraine put a comforting arm around him, feeling helpless.

"Isn't there anything we can do?" she asked Dr. Caldwell desperately. "He seems so upset. I don't want my little boy suffering from anxiety for the rest of his life."

"He's just gone through a very severe trauma, Mrs. McFly. It'll take time for him to readjust to life outside of Jack's -- world. I'd prefer to discuss it with Marty before I talk to you about it, however. He deserves to know what's happening to him first."

Marty finally shook himself free of the imagined scene. "Sorry," he whispered.

"Nothing to be sorry about." Emily clucked her tongue as she looked at Doc. "He's so adorable when he sleeps. But what about that bandage?"

"He'll be fine, but he's extraordinarily lucky too. The knife wound came this close to slicing open a major artery." He held his thumb and forefinger within millimeters of each other. "And with his recent sleep deprivation, it'll probably take longer for the wound to heal. We'll be watching him for his other condition too." He noticed Marty looking uneasily at Doc and closed the curtain. "I think it would be best if he didn't see Marty for a few days, however."

"Other condition?" Marty asked, allowing Jennifer to feed him. It still hurt a lot when he moved.

"I really don't think we should discuss it with you," Dr. Caldwell said. Emily opened her mouth to say something, but he shook his head firmly at her. "Not in your condition. Later, maybe."

Dr. Caldwell allowed the McFlys to fuss over Marty for a little while longer, then shooed them out of the room. "I need to talk to him about his condition." He turned to Marty, who was regarding the curtain with suspicion. "It's all right, Marty. Now, I imagine you have some questions about what's happened to you."

Marty nodded. "How bad is it, Dr. Caldwell?"

"Bad. You've got some internal injuries that we're watching, as well as bruises and lacerations. But what I'm most worried about is your state of mental health. I believe you're suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. In fact, I'd be surprised if you weren't." He launched into a long talk about the symptoms, effects, and possible treatments of the conditions. Marty only half-listened, occasionally asking a question about something he didn't quite understand. Most of it went completely over his head, but he understood that the reason he'd had those horrible flashbacks was PTSD, and that he would definitely have to see a counselor for it. Why can't you just tell me I'm crazy? I don't want to hear all this shit.

Dr. Caldwell finally finished his speech. "I'll have some literature for you later to read over. In the meantime, I wanted to assure you that, in your state, your reactions are completely normal. Is it all right if I discuss this with your parents?"

Marty nodded. "Yeah, they might as well know."

Dr. Caldwell nodded and very carefully put his hand on Marty's arm. "Try to get some rest, kid. Sleep will help speed the healing process."

Marty panicked. "NO! Don't leave me alone! I don't want to be alone!"

"I can understand," Dr. Caldwell said gently. "But I'll let the nurse stay here with you for a while."

"It isn't the same. It's not like I'm gonna know she's there, and she can't stay forever," the teen whimpered. "Please, don't leave me alone. . . ." He began to sob violently, shaking.

"Would you mind getting the sedative?" Dr. Caldwell asked the nurse. She had obviously anticipated his request and was already holding the syringe. "Oh, thank you. Sorry that I have to do this, but you're getting too upset."

Marty pulled back as the nurse approached him. His eyes saw Jack approaching him with the needle, prepared to inject something horrible into his veins. Shit! Leave me alone! he thought wildly, squirming as much as he could. Dr. Caldwell had to hold him down as she injected the sedative. "Now relax, kid. It'll start working in just a few minutes."

The teen began weeping unabashedly. "Don't leave me alone. . . ."

"I'll stay until you fall asleep, gladly." The doctor patted his head and remained by his side. Marty lay down and tried to keep Jack out of his thoughts. After a few minutes, the world grew hazy. Now he could feel Jack's hands wrapping around his throat, choking the life from his body. He tried to fight his growing sleepiness, but it was futile. A moment later, everything went black.