Disclaimer: I still don't own Back to the Future.

Author's Note: Well, there you go, the final chapter of 1955, marking the end of one part of the adventure but the beginning of a next one (even if that one won't take as long to resolve, I promise). The twist with regards to Clara in this chapter is rather cliché, I'll admit, and I tried to avoid the usual beating around the bush by having Doc recognize the situation for what it is... or is it? In any case, this plot development will serve a purpose for the story, as you'll soon see, and that's why I hope you'll continue to follow this story, to read and of course, to review.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sunday, November 13, 1955
12:00 PM PST
Hill Valley, California

"I don't like this. I don't like it one bit."

Doc Brown sighed, staring absent-mindedly towards the ravine. His wife had left just under four hours ago to fetch some breakfast in town. Even accounting for the long distance and for the fact that she could get lost easily, she should have returned by now. Clara was a smart woman – he knew she could figure her way into Hill Valley and back. Therefore, the fact that after four hours, there was still no trace of her, was very disconcerting.

"It doesn't have to be bad, Dad" Jules said. "Perhaps she was distracted by the way things are in this time. You know how she is."

"I certainly do" Doc agreed. "And I can see your mother getting delayed by something, but staying away so long… I'm concerned about the whole situation."

His eldest nodded, and stayed quiet, allowing his father to think freely. Already, he was cursing himself for deciding to spend the night here. Of course, it would have been rather hard to gather the time machine wreckage from the bottom of the ravine, especially when the storm was still raging around them, but it had been silly just to spend the night here, doing nothing, in a time neither of them should be in, and with a Marty who had to be returned to 1885 within the next few hours. The inventor didn't know exactly when the ripple effect would catch up, but from his experiences in 2015 and 2030 on his first time travel journey, before picking up Marty and Jennifer to save their children – and themselves – from disaster, he could estimate that it was around twenty-four hours, which were 'recycled' every time a time traveler made a journey ahead. Which meant that since they had arrived at 8:10 PM last night, they had just about eight hours left to get Marty back. A comfortable margin for sure, but when the very existence of the universe could be on the line, Doc knew he didn't want to take chances.

What was more, there might have been another option, one he had contemplated and rejected last night. He could have just taken the family back to 1895 (and returned Marty to 1885), then have a good night's sleep and return to 1955 alone to handle the wreckage. After all, from what he had observed so far, as long as he didn't travel past November 12th 1955, no new timeline could emerge past it and so there would be no risk of anyone finding the vehicle because there would not have been time for anyone to find it. He could have easily returned this morning and hauled off the time machine wreck without any risk regarding Marty. Of course, that course of action had two disadvantages – firstly, it required him to go to sleep in 1895 and leave a job unfinished, and though he knew the car wouldn't be going anywhere, it would be hard for him to convince his restless brain of that fact. Secondly, he knew that Clara and the kids wouldn't like him going on another trip so soon after this disastrous journey, no matter how mundane it was.

As he continued musing about the entire situation, another possibility began to creep up in his brain. Over the past few days, Clara had complained about feeling ill. He had offered her to take her to a physician, but she had rebuked him by saying that as long as she could do work in their home, she was well enough to stay there. He'd let her be for a while, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but she'd complained about a stomach ache again last night. The entire situation worried him – Clara was not one to complain about a trivial matter, so he supposed that it was something serious. And if it was, there was a possibility that she might have gotten sick on her way into or from the town.

While he was still pondering whether to share that disconcerting thought with Marty and the boys or not – on one hand, he'd prefer not to make them worry unnecessarily, but on the other hand, he knew he couldn't keep it a secret easily considering how pale his face was getting – the sound of an engine reached his ears. He looked down the street, followed by Marty, Jules and Verne.

"Is that a car, Dad?" Verne asked, anxiously. Being your average 19th Century kid in many ways, he had rarely ever encountered cars before.

"It certainly sounds like one" Marty answered for him. "I thought this was a quiet road."

"It is" Doc replied. "In fact, I would barely call it a road at all. There's no asphalt, after all."

"Think you can hide the train in time?" Marty asked. "You're keeping it in plain sight, and it's kind of suspiciously-looking."

"I… I think so" Doc said. "The sound is still a fair distance away, and with the state of the road being as it is, it will take some time before it gets here. And there is this big ravine right next to us, after all." He looked at his friend. "Marty, if they talk to you, make sure the boys won't let anything slip. The situation is bad enough as it is."

"You can count on me, Doc" his friend replied. The inventor smiled, and headed into the time train.

The train had been an old one even when he'd bought it in the 1880s, but the hover conversion had done wonders to it. It lifted up with relative ease and Doc flew it down into Eastwood Ravine, smoothly landing at the bottom. He got out, spared a glance for the remaining bits of the DeLorean nearby, and started walking up.

It took a while before he got to the edge of the ravine again, and when he did, he noticed Marty was talking with some strangers in a car. He couldn't see it very well, but it looked like Marty was relaxed – the inventor wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. However, he abruptly stopped thinking about that when a woman stepped out of the car. "Clara!" he blurted out.

His wife turned to him and smiled. "Emmett!" she replied. "It's good to see you again."

"Same here" Doc replied, walking over to her and kissing her. "Where have you been?"

Clara blushed. "I'm afraid that's a rather embarrassing story" she said. "When I went into town, I headed to the store you had told me about. However, when I had finished my purchases and was about to leave, I… I must have fainted."

"You fainted?" Doc asked. "Great Scott, why?"

"I don't know" Clara replied. "I didn't come to until a few hours had passed, and the store owners decided I couldn't walk all the way back here, so after I gave them directions, they insisted on driving me."

Doc nodded, more shocked than angry. "Thank you, gentlemen" he said.

"Our pleasure" one of the men replied. "I'm glad I was able to help someone out. Tell your wife to take good care of herself in the future."

"I will" Doc replied. The store owners smiled and drove off, apparently not curious enough to wonder what they were doing out here without any apparent goal or transportation. As he stared after them, he remarked: "It's a good thing they were new in town by 1955. Otherwise, they would have recognized me."

"I suppose so" Clara said. "Well, boys, how about breakfast now?"

Doc was about to raise an objection to that, but then changed his mind. It was probably for the best to let them and Marty and the boys eat something first. However, after that, he wanted to speak to Clara in private, before they left. This whole incident sounded somehow familiar to him, and the memory was nagging at the back of his mind. He didn't know what was going on with his wife, but he was convinced that it was serious.

oooooooo

Dinner went remarkably smooth – despite their long rest, Jules and Verne were still too unsettled to do much talking. After they had finished their meals and had carried the last DeLorean remnants into the train, Doc told his sons and Marty to go into the train in anticipation of their journey home, and then summoned Clara outside.

Clara walked over to him, and if she had any idea what he wanted, she didn't show it. "What's the matter?" she asked.

Doc sighed. "I was hoping you knew" he said. "Or rather, I was hoping that you would not confirm my suspicions. Clara, why did you faint in that store?"

Clara shrugged. "I.. I don't know" she said. "I was just at the door, about to leave – and then everything went black before my eyes. Ordinarily, I could say I had simply worked too hard, but that can't be it. I've never fainted in such a situation before!"

"That's not entirely true" Doc said, choosing his words carefully. "Clara, do you remember the spring of 1888? I believe you fainted at least twice then, although you were fine again afterwards."

"Yes, I recall that" Clara replied. "But that was partly because I was pregnant with Verne at the time." She blinked, realizing what her husband was trying to say. "Emmett, do you think I'm pregnant again?"

"I don't know" Doc said, sighing. "I hadn't wanted to suggest it, mostly because it would be a rather discomforting thought. There was nothing we could do about it when we were still stranded in the 1880s, but now…"

Clara frowned. "Emmett, surely you're not suggesting we go to one of those futuristic hospitals and have the baby – if there is one – removed?"

"I'm not suggesting anything at all, Clara, and certainly not that" Doc replied, wincing. "It's just that, as you know, we are in a different situation now. Back then, we had to accept the pregnancy and move on, since there was no way to leave or get medical aid. Now…"

Clara frowned again. "Emmett, are you thinking that we should leave the 19th Century? I know you've toyed with the idea before, but that would be a hard decision to make overnight." She sighed. "You know that if you really want to go back to 1985, I'll go with you. I've told you that numerous times."

"I know" Doc muttered. "But I want you to make the decision because you want it, too. I wouldn't want to impose something like that on you when you secretly don't want to. Not when there's no other option. And we're not even certain that you're pregnant – although there would be an easy way to confirm or deny that. There's a future test at home."

Clara smiled. "It wouldn't be like you to not be prepared for everything, would it?" she said. "All right, let's go back to 1895 and I'll try out the test. That should give us the information we need."

"It would" Doc replied. "The uncertainty of the thing is the worst of it. And perhaps, the test may be negative."

Clara looked at her husband. "And what if it's positive?"

Doc sighed. "I don't know, Clara" he whispered. "I really don't know."