Day 9 - Bees

A/N: A young Marty encounters one of nature's greatest foes for the first time. Takes place a few years prior to Part I.

Spring seemed to have come really early this year.

The number of flowers that had started blooming on the route that Marty took to Doc's lab had steadily increased over the last couple of weeks, and much to his chagrin, it hadn't gone unnoticed to his spectacular immune system.

He sneezed as he rounded a bend, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. Damn allergies…

While his hay fever usually didn't pose a major problem, for some reason it was worse than usual this year. Marty began finding as the days went by that his eyes would start watering furiously as he sped past the various gardens lining the street. Sometimes he would arrive at Doc's house and spend a few minutes wiping his face to ensure the scientist didn't think he'd been crying.

Today, however, he realised his eyes were so sore that he could hardly open them to see the footpath he was skating along, let alone admire the flowers. He knew the logical option would be to jump off of his skateboard and walk the rest of the way to Doc's house, but the teenage boy part of his brain said otherwise. Besides, I've ridden this way a thousand times. I could practically do it blind-

His skateboard went to run over a thick fallen branch, but the back wheels weren't able to clear the obstacle. The world stopped as he realised he was falling forwards.

"GAHHH!"

Screwing his eyes shut as he flew off the skateboard, Marty cringed as he felt his body slam into the ground. He managed to take the brunt of the fall on his elbow, rolling across the grass a few times before coming to a stop in an unruly heap.

It took a moment for the wind that had been knocked from his lungs to return, and he breathed in heavily. Oh, thank goodness…that could've been worse.

At first he was thanking his lucky stars that he hadn't broken anything - the last thing he needed right now was a fractured wrist. He knew he'd likely have a wicked bruise on his arm tomorrow morning, but everything else seemed to be intact.

Suddenly, he became aware of an unusual sensation in his leg. It seemed to be coming from one particular part of his skin, and he could it feel it spreading outwards. What is…is my skin on fire?!

He cautiously lowered his gaze, only to discover a bee protruding from his calf. "Holy crap!"

It was as though the pain intensified purely by making eye contact. Doc would've told him that that was scientifically impossible, but Marty decided his current experience would prove otherwise.

His initial reaction was panic, which wasn't helped as he watched the dying bee slightly wriggle in his leg. He'd manage to make it to the age of thirteen without being stung, but this maturity didn't mean he was any calmer about it.

"AHHHH! GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF!" Marty flung his leg out desperately, hoping it would dislodge the bee without him having to touch it. Much to his annoyance, although the bee's body fell away into the grass, the stinger remained firmly embedded in his flesh.

Knowing that he couldn't stay in the grass forever - and that there may be others bees flying around - Marty pushed himself to his feet, hissing loudly at the discomfort in the affected limb. He decided that finishing the journey on his board would be quicker than trying to run, especially given how uncomfortable it was to bear weight on that leg.

As he reached Doc's front yard, the fire in his leg had become too much for the boy, and he almost tumbled off the skateboard. He crumpled into a ball as he panted through the pain. How am I gonna walk inside?

"DOC! DOC!" Marty shouted, praying the scientist wasn't too deep into his work to hear him. He gripped his leg tighter as the burning sensation grew worse, its tendrils beginning to work their way towards his ankle. "DOC!"

The front door was thrown open, revealing a dishevelled Doc covered in grease stains and patches of oil. He instantly sprinted over to Marty, who was leaning so close to the pavement that he was worried he'd fall over. "Marty! W-What happened?"

"I was skating," Marty hissed, "and this damn bee…GAH, it hurts like a bitch!"

While Doc was relieved that it was nothing life threatening, he was still concerned by the amount of pain his young friend was in. He bent down to investigate the injury. "Where'd it sting you, Marty?"
"My leg! And it's burning! Is it supposed to hurt this bad?!"

Doc briefly ignored Marty's question as he pried the young boy's fingers away from the site. He wasn't surprised to see the stinger still in place, though the amount of angry red swelling that had quickly developed around the area concerned him. "Are you allergic to bee stings, Marty?"

"I don't know!" Marty's voice cracked horribly, though he was in too much pain to be embarrassed about it.

Doc realised how surprised he was by Marty's behaviour. The young man had always been so mature for his age, never complaining or whinging like kids his age normally did. And as much as Marty liked to say otherwise, he was still a kid, and still learning about life and the universe around him.

Most kids tended to cry or scream when they experienced a sting for the first time; if anything, it was a relief to see Marty acting his age for once.

He gently pulled Marty to his feet, who initially resisted but reluctantly followed. "Come inside Marty, and we'll take care of it. Can't have you sitting out here forever!"

Escorting Marty through the entrance and towards his living room, it didn't escape Doc that he noticed that the kid was limping on the affected leg. "I know it hurts, Marty, but try your best to walk normally, okay?"

"But it hurts so bad, Doc!" Marty whined.

Doc decided not to answer, instead guiding Marty to the nearest couch. The boy gratefully accepted the seat, only so that he could resume clutching at his leg. He was definitely putting on a brave face, as Doc noticed that his bottom lip kept twitching frequently.

He sighed as he knelt in front of Marty. "So you've never been stung before?"

"No! Geez, Doc it kills!" Marty rolled forward in his seat, his hand wrapped around his calf in an iron-clad grip. "Do I need to go to the hospital?! Am I dying?"

"No no no, Marty, a hospital isn't necessary for this. I know it's sore, but you need to relax," Doc gently encouraged Marty's leg upwards, resting it on the edge of the couch. "If you were allergic we would've seen a severe reaction by now."

Marty was secretly relieved, though it provided little comfort as he continued to clutch his leg. The sight of the stinger poking through his skin was enough to make him nauseous. "W-What do we do about-"

"Don't worry, Marty. I'm going to remove the stinger," Doc produced a pair of tweezers, trying to ignore the alarm that appeared in Marty's eyes. He gave the boy a reassuring smile. "Just relax, it'll only take a second."

Marty opened his mouth to protest, but Doc was faster, and swooped in to remove the stinger with a singular pull of the tweezers. "There you go! All done."

A little bit of fluid leaked from where the stinger had been, and Doc was grateful that Marty didn't see it. He was too busy leaning back into the couch, his face turning bright red. Doc quickly excused himself before heading to the kitchen to grab a frozen bag of vegetables, having decided quickly that the swelling desperately needed some ice. Poor kid…he must be so embarrassed. It was a perfectly normal reaction for his age though.

Upon his return, he noticed Marty had crawled into a ball, hugging one of the couch pillows for comfort. "You feeling okay, Marty?"
The boy wiped his eyes on his jacket sleeve. "I-I'm sorry, Doc, I know it was a bit of an over-reaction," Marty began rambling, "and I-I know it's just a bee sting, but y-you know, I've never had pain that bad before - not even burning myself on the damn rug was as painful as that! - and I'm sorry for wasting your time-"

Doc raised a finger to shush his friend, smiling slightly. "There is absolutely no need for apologies, Marty. If anything, you were much braver than I was when I got stung for the first time. All I remember from it was rolling around on the ground and being told off by my mother for accidentally pushing the stinger further into my skin while I was trying to flick it out."

Marty had to stop his jaw from falling open. He could barely picture Doc as anything but slightly over-the-top, let alone flailing hysterically on the floor. To hear him admit such a private fact about himself was a gift, and Marty decided he would treasure it. "I won't tell about your reaction if you don't say anything about mine?"

The scientist laughed. "Alright, Marty, it's a deal. And pop that ice on, will you?"