Day 6 - You Lied to Me

A/N: An alternate version of the opening to Part III.

Geez, why's my neck so sore this morning?

Marty sighed as he opened his eyes, realising he'd been sleeping at an unnatural angle on a lounge chair. He massaged his neck gingerly, raising it slowly as he yawned. I really gotta stop couch surfing one day.

He was momentarily concerned to see the familiar environment of Doc's 1955 living room. The windows were stained with raindrop tracks from the storm, with almost no sunlight piercing through the thick clouds above.

A quick glance at the fireplace revealed the dry (albeit crinkled) pages of the letter from 1885, and it didn't take long for his memory to jog itself. Oh right. Doc's stuck as a cowboy and I'm stuck here.

Small whines came from beneath his feet, and Marty looked down to see Copernicus staring up at him. He gave the canine a good scratch behind the ears, a gesture that was surprisingly comforting to him in that moment. Maybe I can pretend he's Einstein and that'll make things better.

His brain finally registered that there was someone speaking behind him, and Marty glanced over his shoulder to see Doc speaking into a recorder on one of his many coffee tables. I suppose it's quicker to record your groundbreaking experiment than it is to type it up. Heaving himself off of the lounge chair took a couple of tries, as Marty's legs were still slightly cramped from his uncomfortable sleeping position.

Once on his feet, he allowed Doc's voice to slip into the background as he set about gathering up the pages of the letter. He stared sadly at the familiar, elegant handwriting before folding the message and placing it into the back pocket of his jeans. At least then I'll know exactly where it is-

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

He glanced up to find a terrified Doc staring directly into his soul, having dropped his recorder in shock. "Doc!"

Doc's eyes widened so far that Marty was worried he'd blown a blood vessel. The scientist screamed as he went to take a step away from the teenager, only to accidentally step onto the hoverboard, which sent him careening headfirst into his piano.

Marty cringed, both at the jarring notes that Doc was accidentally pressing, and at another possible head injury. "Doc!"

The older man's skin had completely drained of blood, his eyebrows raised so high in fear that they could've jumped off his forehead. He gripped the piano keys tighter as Marty drew closer. "NO! NO, IT CAN'T BE YOU! I SENT YOU BACK TO THE FUTURE!"

"Doc!" Marty shouted as he threw the hoverboard aside, leaning in towards Doc. "Yes, you did, you did send me back to the future, but I'm back! I'm back from the future!"

"NO! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Doc shrieked.

"Don't you remember?! Your experiment last night! You fainted and I brought you home-"

"INCONCEIVABLE!" Doc pushed himself off the piano, scampering away from Marty like a frightened animal. His hand visibly trembled as he pointed at Marty. "You're an imposter! A liar! A phoney!"

"Doc-"

"I watched you get into that damn Delorean and get struck by the lightning bolt and travel back to 1985! I saw you!" Doc's voice continued to rise as he became more hysterical. He grasped at his hair, cringing slightly as he brushed against the wound on his forehead.

"Look, Doc, I'm not talking shit, alright? I went back-"

Doc released an exasperated laugh. "How the hell did you do it, future boy? Huh? How did you manage to..to deceive me like this?!"

Marty could feel the remnants of his patience beginning to dry up. "Dammit, Doc, I haven't done anything! I told you, I did get back to the future, and now I've come back from that future!"

"Impossible!" Doc shouted. "This is ridiculous! Preposterous! Unthinkable! I must still be dreaming!"

"Doc-"

"Or maybe this is another side effect of the concussion I suffered! It has to be!" Doc quickly strode over to the door that connected his living room and garage. "Goodnight future boy!"

God almighty, this man is impossible! Marty ran his fingers through his sweaty hair in frustration, sprinting towards the door as Doc locked it behind him. "I did make it back to the future, Doc! I made it back to 1985, but then we had to come back to 1955 to get a book off Biff that he accidentally got off me, because I'd manage to ruin the future like a selfish dumbass, and then you got struck by lightning and you're stuck in 1885, and it's all my fault!"

He felt his voice break with emotion, and he stopped to swallow the tears of guilt that were bubbling under the surface. If I hadn't bought that dammed book…! Why?! It got me nothing! I was so selfish! "Dammit Doc, I'm so sorry…"

The door opened to reveal an intrigued Doc, who leaned in so close to Marty that their faces were only centimetres apart. His expression carried a hint of skepticism as he stared Marty down. "It's a very interesting story, future boy, with only one flaw. If the me from the future is now in the past, how could you possibly know about it?"

Without breaking his steely eye contact, Marty reached into his back pocket and violently thrust the letter from 1885 into Doc's face. "You sent me a letter."

Doc snatched the aged paper from his grip, walking away as he began to read. The younger man knew when Doc had finished reading the first sentence, as the scientist stopped dead in his tracks, staring blankly at the letter. "Great Scott…"

Marty rubbed his eyes tiredly. This is gonna be a long day, I can see it now…