Hey sorry that this chapter took me so long! I've gotten a big liking for some writers like Kristen Sheley, so I rather read than write when I'm behind the computer. So that's why it took so long. Next chapter will most likely be shorter, and also the last one. Then I'll concentrate myself on my other stories - am not sure which one, though.
Read and please, please review!
Chapter Five
Monday, November 14, 1955
06:30 PM
Hill Valley, California
"Marty, are you sure about this?"
"Doc, when I say I'm sure, I'm sure." The teen grinned at his older friend, who was standing next to the bed. "Do you think I'd let you go if I felt sick?"
"No" Doc muttered, clearly not sure what to do. "But… it only has been eleven and a half hour since you've woken up… I mean…no offence to you, but…"
"It's fine, Doc" Marty replied. As he saw Doc's surprised face, he added: "I'm telling the truth, Doc. It's really fine. You should go attend the party."
The 'party' the teen was talking about, was in this case the party Marty's one-day-to-be grandfather, Arthur McFly, had asked Doc to attend to "take his mind off the business with your nephew". It was being held in Hill Valley's High School, as some sort of town's celebration. It was all based on the party that had been celebrated on the night Hill Valley's clock tower had been founded – September 5th, 1885. This week was themed a 1880s week, and tonight was the opening of it, as some sort of 'memorial' to the clock stopping working two days earlier.
"But…" the scientist sputtered, "the lightning bolt was especially from great importance to you and me. If you can't go, I don't wanna go either."
"Well, if you repair the time machine and send me back home, I guess your future self might allow me to take a trip back here, when he's repaired the time machine so this incident won't happen again" Marty answered. "I should look out to do not run into you, then… but I could always disguise myself so you won't recognise me."
The mention of sending Marty back to the future – where the scientist sure wasn't ready for, yet – made Doc go a little pale. "Yeah, you probably could" he responded. "I guess I should go to the party, then. You know where everything is… oh yes, I forgot. You have to take your medicines at approximately 6:58 PM. That's a twelve hours after you first woke up. Doctor's advice."
"Good" Marty promised. "You go attend the party – I'll be fine." With a grin, he added: "See you in the future, Doc. When you come back from the party, I mean" he quickly added when Doc looked a little cryptic at his comment.
"Right" the scientist muttered. "I guess I have to leave you alone, now. Well, I hope you've fun alone in the house. You can watch a couple of good 50s TV series that are up right now. I hope you find them interesting – there is also one about science but I don't think you'd like that." Thinking, he added: "Maybe you could watch Science Fiction Theatre. It's every Saturday and Monday – and you might find it interesting to watch what your teenage Dad uses to watch."
"Yeah, I guess I might" Marty nodded. "I'll try Science Fiction Theatre, then. How late is it up?" In fact, he wasn't really interested in what his Dad watched – since the only thing that had his interest right now was getting the hell out of this place and back to the future – but he figured there was not much else to do on an evening in the past where you didn't have your favourite guitar and the rock music that you had on you had already been played millions of time.
"Marty…" Doc tried again, begging the teen. "If you don't want me to go…" He was immediately cut off by the teenager. "Doc, when I say it's fine, I mean it! Don't get suspicious any moment!" He calmed down. "Really Doc… it's fine. I promise you. And if I will get in problems…," he saw Doc shiver by that, "… I'm sure they'll be solved easily. Truly Doc, you can go if you want to. I hardly doubt that you weren't asked to come in the original timeline… and there you hadn't got a teenager to care about. So then you should right now act like you haven't got one, too."
"Good" Doc nodded. "I'll go." Then he remembered the question Marty had asked. "Actually, Science Fiction Theatre is on TV from 9 to 10 PM. So you'll have to please yourself with some other things in the meantime." He sighed. "Well, I have to leave. See you tonight – and oh yes, remember my warnings about the pills you have to take. The doctor didn't just leave them for nothing."
"I will, Doc" Marty promised, as he watched Doc smile and head off. He listened as the inventor's footsteps softened and he finally heard the door close. Then, the teenager turned around and breathed a deep sigh.
"Well," he muttered, "I guess I'm alone in the house now, then. Wonder if Doc gets angry if I try to sit, instead of just lie down." He tried to sit up, but unfortunately luck wasn't on his side and it didn't went through. Finally, he stopped trying and sighed. "I'll have to watch TV from this position, then. Am I lucky that Doc at least did think to leave the remote next to the bed." He moved to the television, as far as that was possible, turned the 1950s machine on and started watching. Maybe temporary living in the 50s wasn't that bad.
oooooooo
Marty had been right, Doc admitted, glancing over at the festivities 1880s style that were going on all over the Square. This was, indeed, fun to join.
He was sitting at the bar that Lou's Café had placed in the party for the event – not that he could drink anything, he'd pass out of one shot alcohol, but it was the only place that had a couple of good seats – and glancing over at the crowd that was either dancing to the 1880s music that was being played or just walking around. For one moment, he felt sad that Marty had not been able to join the festivities. He would've liked a memorial for the clock tower – as it meant quite a lot for both of them, now. For one week, it had been their only hope… a hope that was shattered into little pieces, now.
Trying to get some distraction, Doc glanced over to the clock. It was only 7:15 PM – the party hadn't completely started, yet, but many people were around already. The inventor had never known that Hill Valley contained so many habitants who were proud of the tower. Looking at the clock, he wondered if Marty had taken his medicines. He'd ordered him to do so, but the teen could, in his stubborn mind, have refused…
Doc tried to push the thought away. He didn't want to worry about Marty right now, and he knew the teen didn't want it himself, either. After all, he had come to the party to have some fun, and that would completely be messed up by all those worries he had about what would happen at this moment at the Brown's mansion.
He then spotted Goldie Wilson, the young black café cleaner, sweeping the bar. The guy had obviously also spotted Doc, and walked over to him. "Good evening, Dr. Brown!" he called. "It's nice to see you here tonight… at least there is one person I can talk with about normal business." He pointed up to the clock, which was still reading 10.04 PM, and sighed. "Don't you think they're worrying way too much about that stupid thing? I mean, they even give a party about it." He shrugged. "It's only a clock. If you ask me, all that nostalgia-business is complete nonsense. If you wanna be somebody in life, you shouldn't worry about unimportant stuff like a clock. Just replace the thing, I'd say. But then again, who am I?"
Doc chuckled inside about that. He remembered Marty telling him that Goldie would in the future eventually become the mayor of Hill Valley – as he was, from where the teen came from, actually running a re-elect campaign. As it looked like now, the cleaner was heading towards a pretty good future.
Right then, he recognised Arthur and Sylvia McFly, George's parents, heading in his direction. George himself was walking behind him, talking with Lorraine. The inventor stood up. "Arthur, Sylvia!" he greeted. "Nice to see you here tonight. I must say, this is a nice party that you've advised me to go to. Then again, they're worrying a bit much about a clock." Actually, he didn't think that, since the clock tower had started to mean a lot to him and Marty, but he tried to do what he'd originally do, and in the first timeline he had no such an encounter with a teen from the future who could only go back with a lightning bolt, and therefore no real interest in keeping the clock un-repaired or replaced like it currently was.
"Yeah" Arthur nodded. "Still, I can understand them. That clock has been in Hill Valley for my entire life… it would be sad to see it go, even when it's replaced by a much nicer clock. Call me nostalgic, but that's just my opinion on the subject." He smiled as he saw the seat next to the inventor being empty. "Could my family and I take those seats next to you by any chance?"
"Of course, sure" Doc gushed. "After all, those seats are owned by the Café and not by me. I haven't got any rights to stop you from sitting on them." He watched as Arthur, Sylvia, George and Lorraine took the seats. George sat next to him, then came Lorraine, then Arthur and then Sylvia. The inventor thought it was funny that he had to run into Marty's future family on this evening. If Marty would ever go back here from the future, he sure had to avoid them from running into him – especially when they expected that he was lying half unconscious on a bench in the Brown's mansion!
The thought about Marty going back to the future saddened him a bit, because he knew that that would be practically impossible. The DeLorean had been practically wrecked – there was no way he'd be able to rebuild the thing, especially while he had to keep himself busy with completing the original one. Marty was stuck here, for as long as it would take, and it would take long – he was sure of that.
"You're quite silent, Dr. Brown" Lorraine noticed after a few moments. "What's the matter? Is something happened with Calvin?" While George and Lorraine both knew "Calvin Klein" 's middle name Lorraine still used Calvin – because she simply thought that it sounded much cuter than Marty Klein.
"Oh no, no, no, Marty's fine" the inventor responded. "Actually, he's doing pretty well. He is at home now… resting from the day being up. People use to do that when they are sick." He continued: "I think he's on the bettering hand. The doctor said that he should be able to walk at earliest Wednesday evening, but I think that Wednesday morning could also do it."
Lorraine nodded. "Understood" she said, smiling. "But, then why are you so silent? Or is it like you couldn't finish your experiment since Calvin got struck in that accident?" As Doc nodded, because it was, in some sort of way, the truth, she nodded understanding. "I already thought so. In High School I've learned that scientists can really focus much on one project… and I guess you're the same."
"Right" replied Doc. "I used to be that way… actually, I still am… but I put those thoughts aside when I saw how badly Marty and the DeL… the vehicle I made for my experiment was wrecked. I really hope that Marty recovers soon, and will understand that I can't have, uh, him go back to his home in, uh, the next two or three weeks."
"I'm sure he'll understand that, Dr. Brown" George assured him. "After all, he can return after those three weeks, can't he? It's not like he will never see his family again."
"Oh no, sure it isn't" Doc quickly nodded, grinning as there was indeed some sort of sense. Marty would have the ability to see his family again – seventeen-year-old George, seventeen-year-old Lorraine, and when his older siblings would be born he would also be able to see them. However this was not exactly like they thought it was… he chuckled at the reminder. How confusing could time travel be sometimes.
"I see you're smiling again" Lorraine observed. "Seeing that, I suppose Marty will be all right." She looked at her future mother-in-law, Sylvia, who just ordered something by Goldie Wilson. "I'd like to have four Pepsi's and four small portions of chips." Turning to Doc, she added: "Also add one for Dr. Brown over here."
"Absolutely not!" Doc protested. "You really don't need to buy me a Pepsi or chips. It's really nice of you to offer, but I truly don't need it." He turned to Goldie. "Cancel that last part, Goldie… it's not going through."
"Aww, Dr. Brown" Lorraine smiled. "Why can't you have fun with us? It's not like we're poisoning you. You could just eat and drink and be happy. After all, we're on a party, aren't we? We'resupposed to have some fun. And I guess then it would be for the better if we do have some."
"Yeah, maybe you're right." Doc admitted. "Maybe you're right. But let me at least pay for it with my own money." He began wildly to search through his pockets. While the McFly family including Lorraine kept insisting that he didn't have to, he searched through both sides of his jean. "Nope" he muttered. "Must've left it in my jacket."
So the inventor continued searching, this time in his right pocket of his jacket. There wasn't his wallet. So he searched in the left… and went pale.
Doc pulled out a couple of white, ripped apart papers. They looked like they were just written. As Doc looked at one of them, he was amazed as he realised that these pieces of paper were what he thought they were. The paper red: "Do not open until 1985." The scientist jumped into shock, as he realised what had been in his pocket.
He had just found Marty's letter.
PS: Cliff-hanger! Who don't like cliff-hangers – they're not lucky. No man should skip a part of my story. (Uh… there is something familiar about this line…)
oooooooo
Marty McFly was, added all the things he'd been doing plus the things he had refused to do, including the times he had looked at the clock to see the time, absolutely and completely bored. He had tried to watch television…there was nothing up at this moment. He had taken a few sucks of the drinks that Doc had set ready for him… they were not tasty, either. He had looked at the clock and watched it jump to 7.20 jump to 7.21 jump to 7.22… Hell, he had even tried to make a puzzle in a puzzle book that was lying somewhere on the table. The kid wondered how and why on earth Doc got a puzzle book, but that didn't matter right now. What did matter, though, was that he still was absolutely and completely bored and that it didn't look like there was going to come any change in that, soon.
He sighed. Yeah…what had he thought, when he'd admitted he'd stay at home? That there would be lots of things to have fun? No. Not in nineteen fifty-five. Not in a time period that sucked so much that he could barely believe it. There couldn't be any worse… well, that was with exception of the Old West, which did really drive him crazy. There weren't even electric lights back there! People there had to be really idiots.
But anyway, he wasn't in the Old West. He was in the 1950s, which might suck a little less than the 19th Century… say, 1885… but still was bad. They didn't have coloured television. They didn't have rock and roll. They didn't have Pepsi Free, or a Tab. Lyon Estates was not even build yet. His parents were teens his age. And last but not least, possibly worst of all, his best friend did hardly knew him for 1 ½ week.
Marty sighed, as he really envied his older siblings. They weren't stranded in a time that was not theirs – they were home, safe and sound, in good old 1985. They were in a period where was no time travelling, they were all right. They didn't have to worry about the space-time continuum and Doc getting shot as much as he had. He considered his older brother and sister very, very lucky.
"Now don't think that way" Marty forced himself. "Doc sure will find a way to get you outta this place. He's right… you'll have to rest. But afterwards, he will sure make you get back to the future. After all, he's the Doc."
Almost right immediately, the optimistic part of Marty's mind found itself confronting all sorts of facts. If Doc really got a way to get him back home, why hadn't he started with it, yet? If he wanted him to be out of this time before the end of the month, he'd better hurry. There had to be some other way for getting him back to the year 1985… like trying to steal some plutonium. Marty was against the idea himself, because it could get Doc shot (again, or before the original time if you wanna put it that way) but if it was the only solution… he'd rather do it.
Then, he shook his head. No – Doc would never agree with that. First of all, it was dangerous… and second of all, what'd happen if Doc got shot in 1955? Then he died at thirty-five, and could never live to complete his time machine, so Marty would never be here in the first place. That could be a very risky thing to play with, if the teen understood Doc correctly. No, better not use that solution.
Then, what were they gonna do?
oooooooo
Doc was shocked. Since the evening of the lightning bolt, he'd never really thought again about the letter that Marty had put in his pocket, and that he had discovered moments before and that he had been chased after by the teen while it had been less than four minutes until the fabulous lightning bolt…
And now here it was, sitting on the same place as he'd trashed it in during those faithful moments. And at instant, Doc had one thing flashing through his mind – this thing has to be destroyed, no matter what.
And it was so easy. He could just throw it in one of the trash cans, and nobody would ever care. He would have to do quite the job to put Marty off him, but that was all, and after a few days the teen would get to use to the fact that the letter had been destroyed and that there was no option of warning Doc anymore.
Then why felt he like he had to resist? Like there was something even more important than the universe that would be in danger if he would tear up that letter? I have to tell you something about the future, Marty had said. Well, that had been clear enough. And then he had added something when Doc had been up by the clock. In the night I go back you get...
Had that "Oct 26 1985 1:24am" indeed been a coincidence, as he'd guessed when he first saw the time machine's Destination Time after the crash? He'd always install a crash-proof system in something as important as the time circuits. There was no possibility that they had skipped to 1:24 so… the only solution was that they had been re-set so. Had Marty tried a final attempt to prevent whatever happened to his future self?
In the night I go back you get…
I have to tell you what happens in the night…
What happened? What made Marty so upset? What could possibly have happened in those eleven minutes that made Marty beg him all week about it, that made the teen try to leave his only chance in returning home alone and try one more time to tell Doc about it?
They found me. I don't know how but they found me. Run for it Marty!
Who on earth found me?
Doc began to wonder about another problem, which he had already connected with this one earlier on, but now he saw it. Something bad had happened, causing Marty to flee. He had indeed ran for it, and eventually ended up on that fabulous November day that changed Dr. Emmett Brown's life forever…
But what had it been? That was the major question Doc asked himself. And the answer was so simple…he could just ask Marty, or either tape the letter together. But he couldn't… he couldn't do that, it would be for the worse of the space-time continuum… no man should know too much about their own destiny…
Should he?
Lorraine gave him a gentle shake. "Dr. Brown?" she asked. "You're a little silent… again. You look like you've just found something amazing." That was, in some sort of ways, right, but of course Lorraine couldn't know that! "Is everything okay?"
"Uh, yeah" Doc responded, nodding. "Everything is okay, thank you. It's just that… well, you know. There is a problem with Marty, and I truly want it to be solved. He's given me something I just discovered and…" he couldn't continue his line. "Do you mind if I go now?"
"Oh no, sure not!" Arthur gushed. "You'll have to take care of things with your nephew. It's a shame you can't stick around any longer, but we'll have to appreciate that. We're sorry, but whatever needs you goes first, I guess. Especially since your nephew's so sick, now.
"Right" Doc nodded. He turned to the bar. "Cancel that order for me, Goldie. I've got business to take care of." As the black cleaner nodded, Doc left the party. He was really curious how Marty would react, if he'd tell him he'd found the letter. He hoped that his future friend would understand his feelings of throwing it away, as he hadn't been too fond of it earlier on. He truly hoped Marty would, in his sickness, be a bit wiser. After all, the letter could not be too important… could it? Well, that was a thing the future would eventually tell him. And then, he sure wouldn't regret his decision from now.
Would he?
oooooooo
Marty looked up surprised as he heard the door open. A few moments later, a wet Dr. Brown entered, wearing the same coat as he had been when he left. Stunned, the teenager watched Doc take the coat off and lie it away to dry. Then, the inventor first seemed to recognise Marty. "Good evening" he greeted. "Have you been behaving yourself?"
Marty could not answer for a minute, eyes blind locked on Doc, or either, the clock above him – that only was saying 8:03 PM. "Doc!" he called, frustrated. "What the hell are you doing here so early? I thought that party went through until midnight or so!"
Doc nodded. "That's right" he said, smiling faintly. "But I had some business to take care of." He pulled out a few wet pieces of paper, looking old because of the rain. "This."
For a few seconds, Marty didn't realise, staring at the papers. But only then he remembered. "The letter" he breathed. "The letter I wrote to you about your fate last Saturday…"
Doc nodded. "Exactly" he muttered. "And I'm still thinking the same about it, Marty. We can't allow this letter to be red by me – it could cause a major time paradox." As he saw Marty's puzzled looks, he added: "A time paradox is something that erases itself from existence, causing the world to explode. For an example, if this letter caused me to avoid an event that eventually would end up causing us to meet. Then you never could go back and write the letter so it wouldn't happen." He sighed. "And therefore, I'm throwing this in the tight." The scientist was about to do so when he heard a hard yell: "NO!"
The inventor turned around – to see Marty standing next to the bed, walking as fast as he could to Doc. The scientist quickly rushed over and helped him steady. "Marty, what the hell are you doing!" he shouted angrily. "Don't you know you've only woken up from that accident this morning? Hell, you could catch your death right now!"
At the mention of the word death, Marty began to cry, surprising Doc completely. The teen hugged Doc, startling the inventor, who knew no else than to hug back. "Marty…" the scientist muttered, trying to comfort the teen. "It's okay. As long as you sit down your life won't be in danger. Just relax."
Marty looked up to Doc, face covered in tears. "It's not me that I'm worried about, Doc" he muttered. "It's you. You're going to get shot by those bastard terrorists and you stop every intention of mine to prevent it."
The inventor's face went pale, as Marty mentioned his death. For a few seconds, it looked like he was going to collapse. Instead, he muttered a soft: "Great Scott!" and sat down next to Marty. "I can't believe this! I… I actually got shot? By terrorists?" As Marty nodded, he hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry Marty. I never knew what I put you through in these past weeks… I thought it was just a simple accident that you felt bad about. Now I understand why you've been insisting doing this so much… and me, simple idiot, have completely ignored it. I feel really ashamed, Marty."
"It's okay, Doc" Marty sobbed. "It's okay."
"No, it's not" Doc responded. "Now I understand everything. The non-stop begging for me to let me know I was going to die. The Destination Time set eleven minutes early, which I thought was because of the crash originally… it was all just because you wanted to prevent my death in the future. Marty, I'll never be able to apologise much enough to you."
"Well, at least you listened…finally" Marty responded. "And that's the main thing. I also felt distressed when you never listened when I tried to warn you – but it's all over now. You're safe… and you'll be safe when the Libyans come." He paused. "About thirty years in the future."
Doc nodded, understanding how this part of the teens memory made him think about things he remembered from home, a twenty-nine years, eleven months and twelve days in the future. Like Marty would say, a lifetime away. But how were they going to get him back then when they didn't have any time machine?
Looking down, he saw that the teen had fallen asleep again. Smiling, he got up and went to prepare some dinner for himself – he hadn't had too much, expecting he could get something at the party he'd left in such a hurry. With Marty asleep now, he had no intention to join the party again, so he decided to just stay at home.
After two hours, Doc finally felt the urge to know more about his fate growing inside his body. But he didn't know more than a faint "shot by terrorists" and later on a mention of that the terrorists had been from Libyan origins. Still, that didn't say much – and he could not exactly wake Marty up to ask more, seeing how good the teen was relaxing. He had been very stressed in this very first day he'd woken up – better let him sleep, for a while. After that they could talk again.
But how could he find out more about his destiny then? Maybe there were some things Marty had forgotten to tell him, being sleepy so much, and that were important for him to be protected for those bastards who were gonna shoot of them – only to think some of them might not even have been born yet! – and that would cause his death anyway. Tempted to know more, Doc grabbed the tape and went to construct the letter together again.
It wasn't an easy task, seeing the fact the thing was wet through completely, but finally, after half an hour work – it was 10:40, then – the inventor made it and opened it. The letter red:
Dear Dr Brown,
On the night that I go back in time, you will be shot by terrorists. Please take whatever precautions are necessary to prevent this terrible disaster.
Your friend, Marty.
"Looks like he didn't forget anything" Doc muttered, staring at the words written by a young man who one day would probably be his best friend. He could still not believe that he was going to be shot, but he now knew he was – and he could take precautions for it, of course. There was no way he was going to let himself be shot, now.
"Thanks, Marty" he muttered. "Thanks for helping me out. I can't believe I've been so stubborn in the last week. I should've known that what you wanted to tell me was for my own good. I'm sorry."
He putted the letter aside, stood up and went to his bed. Today had been another exhausting day, and made him wonder… what would the future bring?
Well, he would find out, eventually. Right now, sleep was his only concern. Doc lied down, glanced at the clock – which just struck 11, reminding him of the hard time he had when the clock struck 10 in the tower while he was around – and closed his eyes. It was no long before he went off in a deep sleep.
See you in the future.
