Well, this is obviously the sequel to Future Son. The reason why it's posted as a separate story is that it's a lot darker and more angsty than Part One. A few people expressed interest in seeing a sequel, but this derivates from the more light-hearted tone in the first part, so maybe you won't want to read this. More chapters will probably follow this one.
'Good morning, everyone!' said George McFly, coming through the door.
'Hi, Dad,' said Dave and Linda in unison from the breakfast table.
Marty stared.
He couldn't believe it. This, on top of everything else? His father was no longer the greasy-haired loser that he'd once been – he was happier looking, he was confident – shock overcame him and he fell from his stool to the kitchen tiles with a thump.
'Marty! Are you all right? Did you hit your head?' said his father in concern, starting forwards.
'No, I – I'm fine – you – you look great, Dad!' gasped Marty, struggling to his feet.
George favoured him with a slightly puzzled frown. 'Well, thanks, Marty. Are you only up now? You look a mess…don't tell me, you slept in your clothes again.' He grinned knowingly at his son.
'Course he did,' Linda commented, before Marty had a chance to answer. 'You're such a slob, Marty.'
'Now, Linda,' her father chided, but he stooped to kiss her head affectionately as he took a cup of tea from the table.
Marty looked with wide eyes at this unfamiliar, loving family. How the hell had this happened? Then he realised.
Oh God…he must have changed things! There was no other explanation. Somehow, he had messed with history enough to change his family's future!
'Wow,' he muttered. 'Heavy.' Then, aloud, he said, 'Hey, where's Mom?'
The reaction from his family was immediate: Dave cursed and Linda dropped a cup. George, however, very slowly lowered the newspaper from where he was sitting in the armchair, and said, calmly, 'Mom? Why do you ask?'
A very cold feeling began to creep over Marty. Trying to speak normally, though his heart was pounding, he said, 'Well – where is she? Shouldn't she be here?'
George looked at him sympathetically, and with more than a little sadness. 'Please, Marty. Don't. Your mother doesn't want to see you. I've made that quite clear to you, many times, so please don't bring the subject up again.'
'Doesn't want to see me?' said Marty, horrified. 'Why?'
'She never says,' said Dave quietly. 'You know that, Marty.'
'But you guys have seen her?'
His brother frowned at him, puzzled. 'Well, yeah. Every once in a while. You know that.' He stared at Marty worriedly for a moment. 'Why are you bringing this up now? You've always hated Mom because she never wanted to see you.'
'Since when?' gasped Marty.
'Since she left.' Dave was now looking at Marty very oddly. 'She could never stand the sight of you – I saw her looking at you sometimes in this way – '
'Dave.' George's voice was unusually sharp. 'That's enough.'
Dave fell silent and stared hard at the ground, blinking hard. He looked so different in his business suit…
'I know it's hard for you, Marty,' said George, getting up and coming over to slip an arm around his youngest son's shoulders. Marty could only stand there, numb with shock. 'It's been hard for all of us…even though it was years ago, I still – '
His voice cracked and Marty saw tears glistening in his eyes. He quickly glanced away.
'We loved each other,' his father whispered, staring into some far off place.
Something was wedged tightly into Marty's throat. 'Right,' he muttered, stepping away from George and heading towards the door before anyone could stop him. 'I'll see you later.'
How had this happened? How the hell had he caused this to happen?
Doc. He had to find Doc.
Marty hesitated.
But first of all…he had to see his mother.
