Disclaimer: I don't own the most fantastic movies ever made. If I did, well, I wouldn't just post these stories as 'fanfiction'. I also don't own the way the date and time on top of the story is written.

Author's Note: Here we (finally) go, the new chapter for HOH! Expect the fourth chapter to come a little sooner than this one. BTW, I made this one the 'Flaming Trails way' when it comes to the dates, simply because I wanted to not have to make a chapter for each new part of the history of AlmanacMarty, but still add the dates. Flaming Trails, if you're reading this and you're mad, I apology; if that isn't satisfying enough for you, just send me a PM and complain about what I've done.

Anyway, please read and review! Enjoy!

3: Chapter Two

Monday, October 28th, 1985

Hill Valley, California

6: 00 P. M.

Marty stirred slowly, as the dark before his eyes began to fade away and he could see a figure – a female, obviously – walk around the room. "M-Mom?" he started to ask, curiously. "Mom? Is that… is that you?" He felt one hell of a pain in his right arm, and hoped it would go away soon. He didn't enjoy this feeling at all.

"Just relax Marty – you've been asleep for, well, about thirty hours now… or maybe a few minutes less… but just relax" the woman who was obviously Marty's mother said gently. "You had a terrible accident and you need to relax."

"A-accident?" Marty asked, confused. "An… an accident?" He didn't remember any of that happening.

"Well, you're safe and sound now," his mother cut in, "back in good old Hill Valley Hospital."

Within a split second, Marty jerked his eyes open and sat up in his bed… or at least, tried to sit up in his bed, 'cause it hurt very much. "Hill Valley Hospital? Aah!" He stared up to his mother. "Mom!" he breathed, unable to accept the facts. "Mom… this can't be a hospital! I can't be in a hospital! Why would I be there!"

"You had an accident" his mother told him. "If I heard correct from Jennifer – who woke up this morning at nine by the way – you raced Needles in Hilldale, and you drove right into a Rolls Royce car, causing you to be dramatically injured. The injuries were pretty critical, honey… I'm glad you survived."

"Survived" Marty muttered, unable to get a hold on the things. He had apparently raced Needles – now he thought of it, he faintly recalled that happening – and run right into a Rolls Royce. He had been injured… "How critical?" he asked. "I mean… can I have any detail, Mom?"

"Sure you can" Lorraine nodded. "Marty, I don't know how to tell you this… but it's possible that you will never get to play the guitar again. Your hand is damaged… badly damaged… and I don't know how we'll be able to repair it with the current technology. I'm sorry, my boy."

"No" Marty whispered. "No. No. NO!" He slammed on the table with his left hand. "This can't be happening! This doesn't make sense! I'm supposed to be a rich rock star!" His voice trembled. "Not someone without a future…"

Lorraine sighed. "I'm sorry. Your father feels bad for you, too. Your siblings… but you simply can't realize your dream anymore. And since you can't change the past, you'll have to focus on the present, son."

Marty stared at his hand, the words past, present and future echoing through his head, and from there towards Doc's time machine. He knew it existed. He'd time travelled in it. Doc had to have known about the incident, and hadn't done a thing to prevent it. Suddenly, he felt a feeling of hatred coming up against his friend, but he tried to push it back. Doc had to have not known… he would've stopped it…

Trying to get those conflicting thoughts away, he looked up to his mother. "Where's Doc?" he asked. "I want to see him. I want to speak to him." And I want to see if he really didn't know, and, more important, if he can prevent this, the teenager mentally added.

"Doc?" Lorraine asked. "Doctor Brown, you mean?" Marty nodded. "Well, he told me he would come at around six-o-five, being busy with something…" She looked at the hallway, as both of them heard footsteps come closer. "Well, look at this. Welcome, Doctor Brown!"

Doc entered the room with a serious look on his face, but still managed a faint smile. "Thanks, Mrs. McFly" he politely greeted. "Oh, hi Marty. I see you're up – you weren't the last time I visited, which was at ten A.M. this morning."

"Yeah, I managed to wake up pretty well" Marty said, somewhat grumpily. He had to get Doc alone here, or else he couldn't discuss time travel business with his friend… or at least, the guy he'd thought of being his friend before today. "Um, Mom, do you mind excusing us for a while? Doc and I… have to talk a bit."

Lorraine McFly frowned a bit, but smiled at him. "Of course, honey" she said. "Why not. I'll get something to eat for Doctor Brown, you and me down at the cafeteria, and I'll bring it up for you in about… fifteen minutes." She paused a moment before adding: "Your father and siblings are currently at home – we volunteered to go wake with your bed every five hours, and it's my turn from 3 to 8 PM. Of course, now you're woken up, George doesn't have to come at seven-forty-five. I'll call him, so he won't have to wait so long." She smiled gently at him. "Anyway, never mind. I'll be going." She left the room, Doc absently staring after her.

Marty stared at his old friend. "Now, Doc," he said, moving up his right arm, wincing from pain. "How do you explain this?" He pointed to the bandage around his wrist.

Doc frowned. "Well, you crashed into a Rolls Royce automobile at around 94 miles per hour, and you got thrown to the side, where your hand got smashed in between both of the cars. Naturally, it didn't survive intact."

"You know what I mean, Doc" Marty said, sharply looking at him. "How do you explain that you didn't warn me about this happening? Or didn't you know?"

"I did know" Doc admitted. "I looked the correct information up in 2015. After I found out the fact that it had happened, I planned to have you get the right idea… you can't let people call you a name. I was afraid to directly prevent this, since it might cause only more trouble. What if today, if you hadn't raced Needles, you'd be challenged into a similar dare and get killed? You were lucky to survive, Marty." He sighed. "And besides, I destroyed the time machine parts yesterday morning. I couldn't help you, even if I wanted."

"Destroyed it?" Marty asked, shocked. "I can't believe it. And no, I don't need a 'you were lucky' right now! I can't believe you did this! You betrayed me! You didn't tell me what happened! I'm your friend Doc! You could've trusted me with that info!" He stared at the older man with disappointment, confusion and anger in his voice.

"It wasn't the info, it's your problem!" Doc shouted. "Your problem with being called 'chicken'!"

"I do not have a problem with that!" Marty exclaimed. "It is naturally that I don't accept people to insult me like that! You told me yourself, even though I knew it already – I should always stand up for myself! I can't, I won't let those people call me a chicken! Me, the son of George McFly, one of the most successful authors of Hill County!"

"You do have a problem!" Doc shouted back. "You should start acting mature!"

"I am acting mature! And I don't have a problem!"

"You do!"

"Do not!"

"You do!"

"I do not!"

"You do!"

Marty turned red in his face. "Doc, get out! I don't want to see you anymore! I can't believe you did this to me!"

"Oh, now your problem is my fault?"

"I do not have a problem, and now, GET OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!"

Lorraine McFly chose that moment to enter, with a plate filled with snacks. "Um… I guess there's been an argument?" she asked.

"Yeah" Marty said, a little calmer, giving Doc an angry glance. "A really serious one."

Tuesday, November 5th

9: 25 P. M.

I'm finally free.

Martin Seamus McFly looked ahead of himself as the doors of the Hill Valley Hospital closed behind him. In the past eight days, he'd been recovering the best he could. In fact, he'd thought he was ready to go last Saturday, but the doctors had stopped him. Finally, now, he could enjoy his life as a normal man again. Somewhat satisfied, he walked over to the truck, and attempted to open the door…

…only to feel a large amount of pain shoot through his right hand as he did so. The teenager frowned, and looked at his hand. "Correction: I can enjoy everything, except that" he muttered. His wrist was still hurting badly, and he couldn't play the guitar with it. The doctors had said they couldn't fix it, and had released him from the hospital with that.

His thoughts then went to the almanac, still lying under his bed, where he'd put it on the twenty-sixth when he got home from Doc's trip through time with him. He would have to use it now. He couldn't get a career in music anymore, not with his hand being in this condition. He had to use the almanac to get rich.

Marty growled, as he thought of Doc. He'd thought Doc was his friend. He'd thought Doc would be all right with him using the almanac, and he'd thought that Doc would tell him if something was to happen to him. Well, no on both things. He'd have to take care of himself now… he knew he couldn't count on Doc anymore.

Sighing, Marty drove home, his face on the verge of getting tears. Doc had abandoned him – and he couldn't imagine ever forgiving his friend for that.