Here we are - another chapter. I hope you like the story so far. Marty will wake up at the start of Chapter Four. I've also edited Chapter Two.
Chapter Three
Sunday, November 13, 1955
02:30 PM
Hill Valley, California
Dr. Emmett Brown woke up with a jolt. As he tried to relax, he figured out he didn't exactly remember where he was, or what time it was. He glanced at the clock next to his bed. 2:30. Thirty minutes past two… in the night, he figured. He might as well go back to sleep, then. He moved his head and went to rest again.
Only then was when he realised.
The inventor sat up almost immediately. "Great Scott!" he thought. "It's 2.30! 2.30 PM! Means, I'm two hours thirty minutes late!" The scientist got off the bed and went over to change.
How could this have happened. George and Lorraine, who had talked him into letting them watch Marty for a while (well, actually, that could be shortened to only Lorraine) were supposed to wake him up at noon. Had they forgotten him? Simply went at home? Fallen asleep? There were so many possibilities.
"I'm sure there's a good reason for this" Doc told himself. "They could've been distracted by something…Marty could've woken up…" His heart actually began to beat faster by this explanation. What if it was true? What if Marty had indeed woken up, and seen nothing to went to but his – teenage – parents?
Doc tried to imagine the situation. Dizzy, still half-asleep Marty, Lorraine and George in front of him, pleasant he finally woke up, trying to comfort him as best as possible… what if Marty had mistaken them for his 1985 parents? Thirty years age difference was hard to cover, but would that be the same thing for an ill, groggy, half-asleep teenager?
Another bad thought entered his mind. What if Marty, thinking it was all a dream, had blurted out the truth? What if he'd told George and Lorraine he was their very own future son?
Finally ready changing, almost stumbling over his pants, Doc departed the room and raced to the main room in the house, curious what to find. What of all these things would've happened?
As he opened the door, he was surprised for a moment. What he saw was no Marty blurting out all time travel secrets he knew, or a sleeping couple of teenagers. What he saw was George and Lorraine, alone, sitting on the bench, watching TV. Lorraine looked up by his approval. "Well, good afternoon, Dr. Brown" she said surprised. "I wasn't surprised to see you up this early."
"Early?" Anger went through Doc's mind. "Early?" he bursted out. "EARLY!" He took a deep piece of breath. "You were supposed to wake me at 12 PM, young lady. That was an appointment. And as far as I'm concerned…" his eyes went to the clock, "it's now 2.33 PM. Means it's two hours and thirty-three minutes ago."
Lorraine glanced over at the clock. "You're right, Dr. Brown" she nodded. "You're quite right. It is indeed 2:30 PM. Your eyes are okay." Doc nearly exploded from the sarcastic tone in the 17-year-old voice.
"I have to ask you a question" he said calm, calmer than he actually was, having his eyes shooting with fire. "Only one. Why on earth did none of you make me up at 12?"
George looked up nervous, was about to mutter an apology but Lorraine reacted before he could even try. "'Cause of you were tired" she simply replied. "I didn't want to wake ya up with the chance you'd fall asleep again the next night. In fact, I didn't even suspect you to be up here before 4 PM, at the least."
Doc considered the thought. Would he? Part of him wanted to learn the brutal kid a lesson, Marty's mother-to-be or not, but another part had to admit she was actually right – if Lorraine or George would've woken him up at 12, like he'd asked, he was quite sure he would barely survive being awake the next night. Finally, he jumped in a conclusion. "You're right" he nodded, then remembering a thing ten times as important. "By the way, how's Marty?"
"Marty?" repeated Lorraine. "Who's – oh! You must mean Calvin. I know Calvin used to call himself Marty – he told me that's his second name – but I'm more used to the name of Calvin. I think "Calvin Klein" sounds better than "Martin Klein", don't you think?" She looked at George. "Don't you?"
"Yeah, I do" her boyfriend reacted. "Still, I'm more used to the name of Marty myself, however I think Calvin sounds better. Still, Marty is a pretty nice name as well." He smiled at his girlfriend.
"We had a nice chat about that after Calvin left the dance yesterday" Lorraine explained. "It turns out to be that George actually had a great-granduncle named Martin McFly. He looked a lot like Calvin – in fact, George's Grandpa, William, does as well." She smiled to George. "It's almost like Calvin Klein is actually a member of George's family. However, he says there were no Klein's related to him in the past."
"Interesting" nodded Doc. In fact, he didn't think it was interesting – the only thing he cared for, was Marty's health. It was 2:35, now – it had been sixteen hours and thirty-one minutes and still was the teenager out-cold. How long would he be? "But could you tell me now how Calvin's doing? He hasn't woken up yet, has he?" Doc had to admit he wouldn't have liked the fact of Marty woken up in presence of his future parents – and that was not only 'cause it could do so much damage to history…future history.
"Oh no, he hasn't" nodded Lorraine. "Hasn't given any sign of stirring in the past…what's it, five hours? Yeah, five hours." Turning back to Doc, she added: "George and I have watched a movie on TV, then we've ate something, then we've played a game. Since 2 PM we've been watching TV again." She smiled. "Oh yeah – about the food, don't worry. We've brought our own meal, and that's what we ate. So it's not like there's something missing in your house or something like that."
"Good" Doc nodded. "Well, I suppose you should be able to go, now. I'm be able to take care of Calvin, so I guess…I want to say…"
"That we're not needed around here anymore" Lorraine interrupted. When Doc looked up to her, she added: "It's okay – I guess you want some privacy, having your nephew in such a bad state. It wouldn't do good if we'd be here all day and night. Know what, we'll be back here tomorrow at 7 – and then we'll be able to wake again for you – at least, for an hour, then. I hope that Calvin's woken up by then, though. He's such a cute guy." She went off, followed by George.
"Good bye, Dr. Brown" the nervous teenager said, passing the inventor. "Like Lorraine said, we'll be back up here at 7am tomorrow morning, and we'll take care of Calvin then. Success with the afternoon's watching. See you."
"Thanks" Doc faintly managed to mutter. "Thanks, George." The teen smiled and departed the room as well. A couple of moments later Doc heard the front door close – to be opened a few moments later, and to be closed again. Both of the teens had gone.
He was back alone, again.
Doc walked once again over to the room where the unconscious time traveller lied. He'd moved him up here that morning, before Strickland came, and it was completely dark up there. The scientist suddenly realised that, if Marty wake up, he'd think it was still night 'cause of the darkness, and go off to sleep before he had given himself enough time to realise that he wasn't just in his own bedroom, but in Doc's mansion a thirty years in the past.
Concerned, the inventor opened the window and moved away the curtains. Well, it was light in the room now – Marty might as well wake up soon. He took a seat next to the unconscious, checked the clock – 2:45 PM – and started waiting.
Waiting a minute. No response, the teen was still out.
Waiting five minutes. Not even the slightest move to stir.
Waiting a quarter. Still no woken up Marty.
Waiting half an hour. Nothing happened.
Waiting an hour…
Startled, Doc looked at the clock, which said 3:48 PM. He'd been up here for more than an hour now, and yet nothing had happened with Marty. His theory had been proven wrong – and taken an hour of his time, his time he could've spent on making signs for the flux capacitor. Still, that wouldn't have worked. If he was one time busy working, he'd not stop any time soon, and get totally into it. Which would cause him to be too distracted to help as Marty woke up.
Marty would need a hand in getting used to the fact he had an accident and was stuck in the fifties, Doc realised. He couldn't just say, "Oh hi Marty, I had to tell you something – you're stuck here okay, I'm off working again." The idea sounded nuts, but he couldn't avoid to admit he'd really thought so for a minute.
Sighing, Doc got up and went to cook a cup of coffee. It would be hard to be awake for the night – he was sure he was gonna get so tired he'd like to sleep any moment he could, while he couldn't – he had to take care of Marty. If he only had someone to be in his place that night…
He could ask George and Lorraine again, of course. They were nice people – they sure were going to say "yes" when he'd ask them to take his place again to wake with Marty. Hell, he might have had nine hours sleep today, but he was late up the last night and around 12, the need for sleep would start to grow. If only…
The inventor shook his head. No. He couldn't ask the teens again – having had them once was already getting bad for the fate of the space-time continuum. Marty's parents could be supposed to do something else, and thanks to him, they didn't do this, and maybe that was the thing what would cause them to grow closer and closer to each other, and finally marry…
Sighing, Doc took another drink of his cup of coffee. He figured Marty wouldn't wake up soon, cause he had been out for almost seventeen hours now and still didn't show any more signs of waking up than in the first hour. The inventor remembered the doctor's advice, about calling him when Marty wouldn't be up Monday morning. The scientist was getting really concerned about the teen, so he figured he'd call right at 6AM, at the exactly moment the morning began and the night ended.
Marty was still breathing slowly, looking as out as he'd been the past seventeen hours. Hell, I wonder if that kid will eventually wake up? Doc thought for a second. Then, he screwed that part. Of course not. Marty would wake up, and it was really normal for him to be out for a couple of hours…maybe the rest of the day.
Trying to get some distraction, he figured he might as well think some more about the new time machine. The new time machine that would have to send Marty home. He figured he'd might as well think about the old one, which still had to be build. For a second, he thought the big thought again, the thought what had been worrying him all day: I wish I didn't invent any time machine.
Oh yes, it was a good thing, Doc immediately admitted. The idea was good behind it – getting a clear perception of humanity, where we've been, where we're going. The pitfalls and the possibilities. The perils and the promise. Perhaps even an answer to that universal question, why?
But it just contained so many risks with it. And it already had brought them such a lot of trouble. And it could even worse – what would happen when the time machine might possibly fall in the wrong hands?
Biff Tannen could get rid on it. And if he would, he'd do anything to disrupt world's history. He might go into the future first, to check out what's gonna be. Then, he'd head back in time to change history, maybe even give relatives information he brought along from the present or future. He could give Buford Tannen, the famous Tannen gunman in the West, future info.
The inventor, who started to doze off a bit, got it in front of him, as in a dream. It was 1885 – September 2, to be exact – and Buford Tannen was riding over the fields, and then, three loud sonic booms were heard as the time machine came up, and Biff stepped out of it. Buford was startled, of course, but soon got interested when Biff told him he was from the future.
Biff would take him for a ride back to 1955, and by returning to the 1880s, Buford would have on him all information where he could bet on until the late 20th Century, so he'd get rich.
The thirty-five-year-old scientist began to think of a possible Hell Valley, as he'd like to call every place in which a Tannen, or someone else with bad motives, was rich. The city would be a dump place, known as hell, he'd be committed before he even got the chance to become a scientist, and Buford's family lived in the town's square. Maybe was Buford still alive – they could afford building future technology to live longer.
A long strike, melding the fact that it was 4:30, stopped Doc from falling asleep completely. He got up, and went off to get himself some more coffee – his cup was empty. While doing so, he began to think. It was late, now – the sun began to move downwards, as it was late afternoon. Well, he felt like it was midnight.
Yes, he had taken sleep in the past time – what was it, eighteen hours? – after Marty had the accident. A nine hours, if he remembered it correctly. Yes, that was it. Nine hours. There was the four hours he'd slept after the journey he'd made in the middle of the night to get the time machine up here – and the next five hours he'd made when Lorraine and George were around. The scientist grimaced by the memory of waking up at 2:30 PM, while he was supposed to wake up at high noon.
Still, there was the fact that he was sleepy. And he knew why – he was a scientist after all. It was because of the stress, all the stress that came with Marty's crash, the journey to get the machine, Lorraine and George's visits, and all the worries about the fate of the good old space time continuum.
But still, that didn't explain everything. He'd worked through lots worse stuff much times before. There was no reason that he'd just would be tired now while he wasn't tired then. Well, at least there was no scientific reason to be found in his entire mind, and that was what made him go nuts.
As Doc drank his coffee, he decided he might as well take a short walk. Marty wouldn't wake up soon, that was for sure – he was still resting in a deep sleep. The inventor wondered if he would even wake up at all… (oh, can't think that!) Something else to think then. The time machine? Nope. Time travel was getting too distressing today. George and Lorraine? Nope, that concerned time travel as they were Marty's future parents. Yeah, a walk would sure do a lot of good.
Getting up, Doc took his mantle and went out. It was a bright Sunday, and the sun rose high in the air, giving the scientist a feeling of pleasure. Yes – it was summer. It was a nice, calm summer and he was enjoying it completely. The sun shone, the birds chirped, the people were happy. And Doc would be happy too, hadn't he got all of the concern about Marty on his mind.
Oh yes, he was trying to get it off him. He was trying hopeless to think about other things, like the happy birds and things which were around. Everyone looked bright and looked like they were enjoying themselves, so why couldn't he?
He knew the answer to his own question. When a problem got on his mind, he never could get it off it completely until it was repaired. Normally, he hadn't had any problems with that. It was just something he had, and something what wasn't too funny… but it wasn't bad. He never got a situation that he really wanted to think about something else than scientific theories.
However, today was different. Today centred completely about Future Boy's health, and about the health of the time machine, and the space-time continuum. Today wasn't a day to rest and just go out to see how bright everything was… today was a day that needed different attention.
"Really?" Doc thought by himself. "Do you really think that, just because your friend has not woken up for the past day, that you'll have to wake with him any time? Hell, you got out of the living room many times!"
"That was because of necessary things" Doc reminded himself. "You had to store the time machine parts – and you took Marty with you on your ride, so nothing has happened to him. You had to make a few cups of coffee, or else you would have no drinks at all, you had to make a visit to the garage with Strickland or else he'd get suspicious, and when you slept Lorraine and George woke over Marty. You're doing your duty to Marty if you, right now, turn around and go back home."
In this fresh air, turning around didn't exactly seem to be the right thing to do to the thirty-five-year-old. This was one of the last bright days of the year – he wanted to enjoy the late afternoon, and have the pleasure of the sunshine. This was a great day to be out and he wanted to take all out of it that the day had in it.
No, you can't, you have to turn around.
You don't have to – enjoy the sun, be happy 'cause it's a happy day.
No, you have to wake with Marty. If he wakes up, he'll be really disorientated. Will you ever forgive yourself it if he goes out of bed, trips over something, hits his head and dies? Will you ever be able to do that?
"No, I won't" the other voice in Doc's head replied. "However, how little is that chance? How little is the chance he trips over something, and how little is the chance he'll hit his head then if he does trip? How little is the chance he even wakes up before you're back at all? The doctor said it'd be usual if Marty sleeps through the day. And it's no more than 5 PM, if no less! The chance's big Marty doesn't wake up for another seven hours… which will completely cover the no-more-than-one-hour-taking trip you're planning."
But could I possibly…
"Hey, Dr. Brown!" The voice, coming from nearby, made Doc, who had been sinking back in deep thoughts, jerk his head up and look in the direction the voice came from. "Busy thinking again, huh? How's it going?"
Doc was surprised to recognise the person where the voice came from. "Arthur McFly" he said with a smile, recognising George McFly's father. "It's good to see you. How have you been doing in the last time?"
Marty's Grandfather-to-be grinned. "Everything's just okay" he answered. "I've a happy family, expect for our oldest – that's George. He often can be so sad, as if he's got to do something for anyone. I've asked him what's the matter, and he just pushes it off. I think it's got something to do with Biff Tannen, that bully. I've been bullied by his father for twenty-five years, until he departed Hill Valley in 1947, and I don't want my son to carry in that lineage."
"No, I understand" Doc said, remembering how Marty said that in 1985 – not only twenty-five, but more than thirty-five years after it started, George was still bullied to write Biff's report. He hoped that punching the guy out at the dance did some good for the future McFly's. His heart really went out to poor George, and he hoped that he wouldn't be bullied in the 1980s anymore. "The Tannen's really seem to have bad genes. I wonder how Biff Tannen's children will be like… or his grandchildren."
"Well, I guess they're as bad as their ancestors" replied Arthur. "But still, you can only guess. It could've been a coincidence that four Tannen's – they've been around here since outlaw Buford in the 1880s – are all real bad. The future Tannen's can also try to be nicer. Always do nice to everyone, that's what I always say."
Doc grinned at the thing that Arthur and his future grandson had in common – trying to be nice to everyone had obviously found it's way down through the McFly generations. He wondered if Dave and Linda, or their father, also had this. As Marty hadn't told him this, probably not.
"Say, while we're talking anyway – I heard of George you had a patient in your house" Arthur continued. "His friend, guy named Calvin Klein. George told me he's your nephew, and he just came into town on the fifth. How's he doing?"
"Well, he's fine right now, however he still hasn't woken up" Doc said. "But he was hurt pretty bad in the accident." And the inventor began to tell the fake story again that he'd told anyone in Hill Valley who needed to know, and anyone who'd asked him, about how Calvin was just driving to the train station while he was hit. And about the weather experiment he'd been doing at Courthouse Square. A police officer had confirmed that this was true – he'd passed by around 8 PM, and seen him busy with the experiment. He'd even told him it was one – so it was really clear that the inventor had been telling the truth.
"Okay" Arthur replied. "You see, George was really worried about him – and so he managed to get me so far I'd ask it to you. He'll be glad to know his friend isn't getting worse now." Sighing, he added: "George is really caring for your nephew, you know. He even got there with his newfound girlfriend – girl named Lorraine Baines – up there waking for you during more than five hours! I was really proud on him, but I said clearly "no" when he asked me if he and Lorraine could go back to yours at 4. He really has to think more about other things – like church, and school. He doesn't exactly realise yet that you have to comb important things in life, and don't concentrate yourself on one thing all the time. That way, other things will get drastically wrong, causing you to lose the game of your life." He looked up to Doc, before adding: "Don't you think?"
"Yeah, you might as well be right" Doc replied. "You have to take things like school seriously, if you want to be somebody one day in the close future." Sighing, he quickly added: "Of course, I don't think your son doesn't take school seriously. He's just being worried about his friend – and I think that's really good of him. I don't know many people who care so much about another person."
"Yeah, you have a point" Arthur said, sighing. "The thing is, I'm not used to my son doing so – he's always on his own – and now he does, I'm having a strange feeling about it, so I'd forbid him quickly, however I know it's good what he's doing." Sighing again, he added: "Well, I guess I shouldn't take your time too much, and better get going. It's a few minutes after five – I better get going. The wife might get mad on me when I'm late for dinner." He chuckled, and went off.
Doc looked up, and began to walk again. He really liked the sunshine that was around on a day like this, and praised himself lucky he'd been born in Hill Valley, and not in a climate where it was every day a ten degrees negative. He'd have a completely different life then, being not a scientist but some hunter or so. For once again he concluded: life was the best as it was now.
"Copernicus! Copy! I'm home! The boss is home!"
The two-year-old sheepdog ran up to his boss, who embraced him gently. "Hi Copy! How have you been behaving yourself? You haven't been bad, have ya?" Chuckling, the inventor pulled up his dog. "And how about our guest? Has he woken up, yet?" Sighing, the scientist added: "I guess he hasn't. Must've been real hard knocked out yesterday – I hope he'll recover soon." Breathing tired, he began to head over to the room he'd left Marty in.
The teenager was still in the same strange position as he'd been the last day – head on the right, feet on the left. Doc wondered how he could possible have slumped in this condition, but the teen seemed to be normal to it, so he decided to keep it this way.
Glancing at the clock, the inventor saw that it was 6:15 PM. He could've guessed – his so-called "trip" through the neighbourhoods took much longer than expected because of he had borrowed some stuff from people he knew – like puzzle books, and other stuff to keep him awake the rest of that hard waking night.
"Good evening, Marty" the scientist greeted with a faint chuckle. "Still asleep, huh? You seem to do not know anything about stopping do you?" He touched the seventeen-year-old' s head. It was really hot – Doc had checked his temperature earlier on, which said a hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit. "Well, it could be worse" he thought. "I can't imagine how bad it could've been if it was a hundred and ten degrees. That would not be easy to survive! You should just be not too much worried – Marty will be fine."
Doc gave himself a faint smile and went off to prepare himself a small meal. He'd been cooking for himself for the past, what was it, fourteen years… but it was suddenly not too easy anymore. Especially not when you had a guest in your house and you had to be really careful he didn't wake up without you being around.
Sighing, Doc ate his meal and went afterwards off to watch a movie on TV. Sunday night was usually a night with many cowboy shows and stuff, and this time, Doc was again not disappointed – there were at least three of them.
Doc really began to get happy again, because he loved cowboy shows. If it hadn't been for his discovery of the fun of science, by reading Jules Verne at 11 in 1931, he'd become a cowboy. But, of course, that wasn't exactly possible anymore in the year 1955, more than fifty years after the "Old West" ended. Doc hoped that, if he'd rebuild the time machine one day, he'd also be able to get back to the Old West one time. That really did sound like fun! Maybe the year 1885 or 1886 would do so. He'd have to be careful for outlaws, of course, but also with the necessary preservations, including the ones that only were about time travel like "don't talk with anyone don't interact with anyone" and stuff like that, he could have a lot of pleasure being back in the past, back in the good old 19th Century. He really did quite love all of those era's!
As Doc watched TV, the time floated by real soon. The clock chimed 8, 9, and finally 10. When it was 10:02:50 PM, Doc's alarm clock went off, and he looked on the clock. "Nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one…"
The inventor had a hard time, as the clock clicked to the fatal 10:03 PM. Exactly twenty-four hours earlier had the accident happened. Martin Seamus McFly, the 17-year-old who was heading back to his own future in the year nineteen-eighty-five, was hit by a branch of a tree, causing him to swerve around, and finally hit the Courthouse, a few metres below Doc's site of connecting the cables. The scientist shivered, thinking about those scary moments of before the lightning bolt. If only Marty hadn't been hit…
However he didn't exactly like alternate history stories, Doc found himself puzzling about a "what if" scenario. What if Marty had made it back to the future? What if he'd caught the lightning in time? The inventor was sure things would be better then. Marty would be back home, and he would be alone again… knowing he'd have to wait another really hard thirty years before ever discussing these events again…
For a moment, Doc found himself being happy that Marty hadn't made it back home. But immediately he pushed that thought away. No. He couldn't be happy while Marty was not happy. While Marty was unconscious, hit, damaged… while the time machine was a wreck, while the universe would have to deal with another person present in the next thirty years, a person known in town as Calvin Marty Klein…
The inventor looked back at the TV, and saw the show had ended. Aww. Bad thing. He really loved the show, and now he'd missed a part of it by thinking about time travel… which was also very important, of course, even more important than him missing his best movies and TV shows about cowboys.
The inventor looked in his TV-guide. According to it, the next programme would be a science documentary, going about one of his favourite scientists, Albert Einstein. By watching the video Marty had brought from the future, Doc had learned his future self's dog would be called Einstein. He had concluded that his future self and he really were the same person, since he loved Einstein's theories.
As the programme started, Doc sat down relaxing and watched the TV screen interested. It was some sort of a late memorial to the scientist, who had died in April that year. Also there was much attention to the relativity theories, which Doc found really fascinating. He really hoped he'd find out such a great invention some day – well, he already had invented time travel, but couldn't show that to anyone except Marty – and be famous as well. He had to admit that sometimes, before the inventor died, he had really envied Einstein about his popularity and being well-known all over the world. But, eventually, he'd gotten over that.
Sighing, Doc listened to all the theories that were explained, and all the info the people gave about Einstein's life. He knew most of it, but it was still interesting to hear, to update the information in his head a little. He wondered how people in 1985 looked up to Einstein. He might ask Marty, when he'd wake up.
If he woke up…
"No" Doc thought once again. "Marty will wake up eventually. It might take a couple of hours, but he will wake up. It's just a matter of time, that's all."
A matter of time.
What wasn't a matter of time in these past days?
"And that was our Einstein documentary" a voice on the TV said, attracting Doc attention. "We'll have now the last show of tonight, a romantic movie made just last year. It's called…" And that was where Doc grabbed the remote, and turned the television set off. It was 10:45 now – he'd have another seven hours and a quarter waking before he could call the doctor.
Tired, he grabbed his puzzle book that the McFly's had borrowed him. George had asked, once again, how Marty had been doing and he had truthfully told him there was no progress yet. The teen was still out-cold, and didn't look like he was going to wake up soon.
Sighing, Doc went through the next hour of watching television. Afterwards, he sorted some remains of the time vehicle and stashed them on a place no-one would see it – he remembered the encounter with Strickland the night before all too well.
As it was 1:15AM, Doc finally began to feel tired. He took another cup of coffee, but he already knew he couldn't fight the sleep for too long. "Where did I begin with" he muttered, glancing at the unconscious form in the spare room.
Once again, Doc went puzzling. He really liked the puzzles the McFly's gave him, as they gave him an opportunity to use his brains with a game. He made a couple of them before he finally putted them away when the clock chimed.
Hardly be able to hold his eyes open, Doc looked up. Great – two-thirty A.M. That made another three-and-a-half hours to wake. Which wasn't easy if you had two really busy days behind you. He was up, both physically and mentally. All he wanted to do, once again, was go to sleep.
Not wanting to give himself over to the powers of sleeping, Doc grabbed a science book and began reading. It was about Thomas Edison, and normally Doc would've red the book for hours, not be able to stop. Only this time, it wasn't that way. He was too tired to do so.
It had only been twenty minutes… it was around three A.M. – when Doc Brown finally gave up and went to rest, again. Copernicus looked up to his boss, curious, but finally did also go off to sleep. And in a couple of minutes, it was silent all over the house – sleep had defeated the mansion. Sleep had defeated the guy who could be awake during night hours the best of maybe entire Hill Valley – Doctor Emmett L. Brown.
