Day 5 - Disfiguration
A/N: After farewelling Doc and family, Jennifer sets about tending to her time traveller and his injuries. Set immediately after Part III.

They'd stayed at the wreckage site for some time, wrapped in a tight embrace that neither was willing to break. Despite being mid-morning on a Saturday, the world around them remained eerily silent, apart from the distant thuds of tyres and irritated car horns crossing the railway tracks.

Eventually, Jennifer realised that her beloved was starting to hang from her shoulders instead of hugging them, and gently broke away to cup his dirt-streaked cheeks. The bags under his eyes were sagging spectacularly, his lashes flickering rapidly as he fought to remain conscious. "You need some rest, mister. And a good shower."

Marty opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced when Jennifer lifted the top of his poncho for him to smell, the astringent scent being powerful enough to make him gag slightly. He nodded in embarrassment as he cleared his throat, ignoring Jennifer's light giggles. "Point taken, ma'am."

He hadn't wanted to admit it, but the desire for modern washroom facilities and scorching hot water instead of freezing his privates off in a tetanus-ridden bathtub had been one of the few things he'd dreamt about on the eve of the train heist.

He also didn't want to admit how sore he actually was, but he was sure Jennifer had worked it out based on how stiffly he was moving. Even holding himself upright was becoming a strenuous task. "Jen, I…I m-might need some help, with, uh, t-the bruises and splinters, and uh, I-I don't really wanna go to a hospital a-and try to explain all of this—"

Jennifer wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders, taking some of his dead weight as they stumbled across the tracks and back to his truck around the corner. The loud hiss that slipped between his lips as they walked troubled her, as did the suspicious bruise under his jaw that she only noticed in the direct sunlight.

You need to stay positive, Jen, for his sake. "I've got a nurse for a mom, Marty. We can handle this!"


The first roadblock came when they tried to remove Marty's clothes. The young man struggled and swore with his poncho and undershirt, seemingly unable to lift his arms high enough above his head to remove it on his own. With the longer he struggled, the more worried Jennifer became about the injuries he'd sustained. It's almost like he got hit by a bus, but there were no buses in the old west…What the hell happened to him?!

"Aahhh! SHIT!" He clenched his teeth together, hanging his head as he tried to breathe through the discomfort. If not for Jennifer's intervention, he would have fallen off from his perch on the edge of the bathtub.

"Marty, let me-"

"No, Jen, it's fine! I-I'll get it eventually…ARGH!"

Jennifer shook her head, deciding that he'd suffered enough. Running to retrieve a pair of scissors from Marty's desk, she began snipping the garments away before the patient had a chance to complain. As the material collapsed to the tiles below, her face blanched as the skin beneath them was revealed. "Oh my God-"

Marty was lost for words, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. He was clearly conflicted between feeling self-conscious and defending himself, and tried to avoid making eye contact with Jennifer. "Jen, I-I…"

She sat back on the edge of the bath, staring at her boyfriend's torso in shock. Where there had once been pristine, unblemished skin was been replaced with a kaleidoscope of bruises, lacerations and rashes. She'd already seen the dried blood and splinters that decorated his hands and fingers, but was disturbed to see just how damaged the rest of his body was. Paper thin cuts ran around the base of his neck, and in the bathroom light she realised that both sides of his jaw were sporting fist-sized bruises. Oh my poor love…

Her eyes were drawn to the suspicious maroon and black blotches either side of Marty's sternum, which extended downward to his stomach before wrapping around both sides of his body. Alarm bells began ringing in her head the more she inspected him, and she took a moment to compose her thoughts. "Marty, you need to tell me exactly what happened to you, because…because this looks serious."

Marty was flustered. He refused to meet Jennifer's gaze, taking in a shaky sigh as he gazed tiredly at the wall.

"Okay then, uh…Let's start with these," Jennifer placed her fingers against what she suspected were broken ribs. "Are these from the fifties, or the old west?"

He swallowed hard, his voice barely audible as he fought back tears. "…Both."

"How?"

Marty gasped, his resolve crumbling as she continued to feel along his battered body. "…Biff was, uh, responsible for this bit," He pointed directly to his stomach, his gaze never leaving the wall, "and the rest was his, uh, h-his grandfather."

"Are these from punches or a vehicle?"

"S-Some were punches. Most of it was from t-the horse."

What the hell?! Jennifer paused her examination, her jaw falling open as she reeled with the shock. "You got trampled by a horse?!"

"M-More like dragged, actually." Marty whispered, scrunching his eyes tightly.

"God…" Knowing that she was doing a terrible job of hiding her shock, she took a moment to compose herself before wetting a face washer under the tap. "…I think it's best if we clean these up a bit before you jump in the shower, Marty. J-Just to help you with the pain, okay?"

Marty stifled a whimper as she dabbed the cloth across his face, wiping away a week's worth of muck and soot, as well as erasing the fresh tear tracks that had been carved through the grime. He delicately leaned into her touch, a small whine escaping his lips. The last of his strength rapidly melted away and he began to sob uncontrollably, but whether it was from the pain alone or a combination of relief and exhaustion, she couldn't tell.

"Hey hey, it's okay, Marty," Jennifer murmured soothingly. "It's okay. You're safe, you're home-"

"I couldn't stop it, Jen!" Marty gripped her hand as he wept. "It just kept coming and coming and a-as soon as it s-stopped hurting, s-something else happened a-and-"

"Can you tell me what happened with your neck?" She interrupted gently, trying to ignore his flinching as she dabbed his collarbone with a wet face washer. He needs to stay calm or he's going to hyperventilate…

"A rope…" He gasped. "I-It was a rope, Jen. T-They tried to h-hang me, a-and I got pulled by the horse a-and it slammed me into all this shit, a-and if Doc hadn't…if he hadn't, I-I'd be-"

Losing his composure, Marty threw his aching arms around Jennifer, almost suffocating her with his greasy hair as he desperately hugged her. "It hurts, Jenny! It hurts so bad, a-and I c-couldn't stop it!…"

She felt tears slipping through her own lashes. Putting the washcloth aside, she returned the embrace and began massaging her fingers through Marty's hair. Her own body shook from the force of his sobs, and she was glad the house was currently empty, for she knew his cries would've broken the hearts of anyone who heard them. "It's okay, love. It's okay. It's all done."

"NO MORE!!…" Marty wailed. "N-No more, please…I-I can't…Doc, I-"

"It's all over, Marty. You're home," Jennifer held him as a mother would hold her child, rocking him gently as he released a fortnight's worth of unsung fear into her arms.

Looks like the shower will have to wait.