Author's Note: Last chapter's reference was Katherine's line, "Everybody's acting like we can do anything and it doesn't matter what we do, but maybe we have to be extra-careful because it might matter more than we even know." In Casualties of War, MJF's character Eriksson said this.

This chapter has a cameo of Damian, another of my friends, since he missed out on being the Lord vampire this time around.

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Chapter Nine – Lost and Found

Monday, April 8th, 1985
Grass Valley, California
6:49 AM

Damian Taranth was dragged from sleep by a loud pounding on his front door. He cursed under his breath as he staggered out of bed, barely remembering to duck the doorframe or risk concussing himself again. This is way too early for any salespeople, he thought groggily. Things like this never happened in Australia.

He finally got to the door and opened it. "What the bloody hell…?"

On his doorstep was a short kid, dressed in stained and torn jeans. His hair was mussed, and dirt and bruises marred his skin. The boy looked like he'd been walking for quite some time. "Um, hi," the kid said after gaping up at the much taller man. "Sorry to bother you, but I'm kinda lost…"

"You look familiar," Damian interrupted, looking closer at the kid. His sleep-fogged brain finally woke up, and he snapped his fingers. "You're that missing kid, the one from Hill Valley!" he exclaimed, then realized that the kid looked like he was about to collapse right then and there. "Oh, come on in," he offered, stepping aside and making a sweeping motion with his hand.

The kid – what was his name? – hesitantly stepped into Damian's house. "Uh…don't suppose you could tell me what town this is?" he wondered.

"Grass Valley," Damian replied absently as he picked up the phone and dialed 911.

"Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?" the woman on the end of the line asked calmly.

"I think I've found that missing kid from the news," Damian explained. "The McFly boy."

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Monday, April 8th, 1985
Hill Valley, California
7:03 AM

George nervously paced in the confines of the tiny hallway, head bowed in defeat. No one had seen his son in over six days, and George found himself intensely regretting how neglectful he'd been towards his own son. Marty had needed to resort to Doc Brown's guidance due to his real father's cowardice.

And now he's gone, George lamented. If I could only have five minutes…five minutes would have been enough to at least let him know I love him. He wouldn't have had to die alone, thinking his father didn't care…I'm sorry, Martin…

George was startled out of his thoughts as the telephone rang. He glanced at his wife, who was sobbing at the table, and then picked up the phone. "Hello?" he asked hesitantly.

"Mr. McFly?" a male voice asked.

"Uh…yes. Speaking," George said hesitantly.

"Are you the father of Martin Jonathan McFly?"

George winced. "Yes sir."

"I have some good news for you," the voice continued. "Your son's been found."

George's heart nearly stopped from the shock, spirit soaring. "WHAT?!" he shouted, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorraine's head jerk up to stare at him in confusion. "You found him? Is he alive?"

"Alive and well," the man on the other end assured him, and George let out a whoop of jubilation.

"Where is he?"

By now, Dave and Linda had been drawn to the kitchen by the racket, and one look at their father's face was all they needed. "Marty…" Linda whispered, a smile growing on her face.

"Your son's been taken to Grass Valley central hospital," the voice on the phone answered.

George almost dropped the phone in surprise. "Grass Valley?" How'd he get all the way over there? That's twelve miles away! He shook off that thought, vowing to ask his son later. "All right, thank you, I really appreciate this more than you could ever know. We're on our way to see him now."

He all but threw the phone back on the hook and dashed over to hug his wife and kids. "He's alive!" he exulted, running over to grab his car keys. "He's at Grass Valley hospital, come on!"

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Monday, April 8th, 1985
Grass Valley, California
7:28 AM

Marty leaned back into the soft pillows of the hospital bed, closing his eyes to savor the feeling of being able to lie down. Aw man…that feels good… he thought to himself with a slight smile.

A whisper of a thought tickled at the back of his mind, and he reached over to fish in the pocket of his bloodstained jeans. Finding what he wanted, he pulled out the tiny button pin that had saved his life.

"Hello, beautiful," he murmured, finally getting to see his salvation. It was rather inconspicuous in appearance, plain white with a black semicircle and red triangle. The words ART IN REVOLUTION were printed between the two shapes in black letters. The pin was slightly bent, but as far as he cared, it was perfect. This is going on my jacket, he decided. Just in case.

"Marty!"

Marty looked up just in time to be tightly hugged by his frantic mother. "Oh God, Marty, oh God oh God…" she babbled, squeezing him tight as if afraid he'd vanish if she let go. "My baby boy, I never thought I'd see you again!"

"Whoa, Mom, easy," he said lightly. Lorraine loosened her grip, but still didn't let go, so he smiled gently and hugged her back, being cautious about the IV line in his arm. "You have no idea how good it is to see you again," he told her in all honesty.

Over his mother's shoulder, he could see his father and siblings in the doorway, all grinning like idiots. "Hi guys," Marty called to them. "Come on in, it's great to see you too!"

Within minutes, his excited family members were all comfortably seated on the edge of his hospital bed. "What happened to you?" Lorraine asked cautiously.

Marty flinched at the memory of his captivity. "Uhh…I'd rather not talk about it," he muttered, looking away. Plus I don't want to try to explain away my escape…

"Are you hurt, at least?" George piped up, reaching up and turning his son's face back towards them, his eyes fixed on the large purple bruise on Marty's cheek.

"Just bruises," Marty protested.

"It is most certainly not just bruises," a new voice interrupted, and they turned to see a doctor walk through the door with a clipboard in his hands. The man was around Marty's height, with brown hair and eyes that were hidden by round sunglasses. "I'm Doctor Benjamin Stone," the man introduced himself, briefly shaking hands with the adult McFlys. "Young Martin here is being treated for dehydration and mild starvation, in addition to minor bruising and sleep deprivation. All are easily treatable, and he'll be released tomorrow, if he cooperates."

Marty blushed faintly at the accusation that he was an uncooperative patient, and his family held back their knowing laughs. "Hey, I'll cooperate with anything if it means I get to go home sooner," he declared, ignoring Linda's whispered, "Yeah, right!"

"There is one other thing," Dr. Stone admitted, looking directly at Marty's parents. "May I speak to you privately, please?"

George and Lorraine shared a concerned look, and stood. "We'll be right back," Lorraine promised, running her hand through Marty's hair again. Marty groaned inwardly at his mother's fussiness, but didn't move away. She smiled reassuringly at him, and followed George and the doctor out into the hallway, leaving the three kids alone.

Now that his fussing mother was gone, Marty noted the absence of several someones. "Where's Doc?" he asked his siblings. "And where's Jennifer? Have they been told yet?"

Dave and Linda gave each other a guilty look. "Sorry Marty," Dave apologized. "We were in such a hurry when Dad got the phone call, we completely forgot to call either of them."

"I'll go call them for you," Linda offered, standing up to leave.

"Call Doc first, would you?" Marty said quickly, before she could walk away. He ignored the slightly stunned expressions on their faces.

"Uh…sure, okay," Linda agreed, still faintly surprised.

Dave apparently didn't have anything else to say, because he just sat there with Marty. Marty didn't mind, however, since he was taking advantage of his newly enhanced hearing to listen in on what the doctor was telling his parents.

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"Is there something wrong with him?" Lorraine asked the doctor as they stepped out into the hallway.

"Not physically," Dr. Stone promised her. "His injuries are mainly superficial in nature, but I'm afraid he may have some deep psychological scarring. He gave his statement to the police shortly before you arrived. I'll leave it up to him to give you the details as he chooses, but he said he was blindfolded and handcuffed to a pole during the length of his captivity. He was occasionally physically abused, as well as mentally."

Lorraine gasped slightly at the news that her son had been mistreated, but the doctor continued. "He only saw a brief glimpse of his captors when he escaped, which unfortunately means he will not be able to be reassured that they won't come after him again. He may experience flashbacks, paranoia, and intense nightmares. My recommendation is that you schedule a series of appointments with a counselor to help him come to terms with his kidnapping."

George winced. "He won't be too happy with that when we tell him."

"It's for the best, and I'm sure your son will come to realize that," Dr. Stone assured him.

"I certainly hope so," Lorraine replied faintly, while her husband subsided into silence. "My poor baby boy…"

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Marty frowned faintly as he listened in on their conversation. So…they're sending me to a shrink. Fantastic. He sighed in frustration, and wondered when life would ever be normal again.

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A/N: This chapter's MJF reference is so blatantly obvious, I know two people who have never seen the movie in question and even THEY know what the reference is.

One more chapter to go…