A/N: Welcome back for another round of BTTF whump! I had so much fun writing about these guys for Febwhump that I decided to have another go. I also got around to reading all of the comics, so some scenes from those may make an appearance. Once again there will be a content warning for Marty's language for most of these chapters.

Day 1 - Failed Escape
A/N: An alternate version of Marty's escape from Biff's Tower in Part II.

Well, I screwed this up.

It had been going so well. Biff had predictably given him all the information he needed, including the exact date of the almanac acquisition, without him having to lift a finger. If anything, he was surprised Biff hadn't knocked him out or thrown him through the window.

But then Biff had produced the finely-polished revolver and loaded the barrel. "It's funny…I didn't think it'd be you."

Dammit.

His eyes flickered between Biff and the golden ashtray on his desk as the revolver was cocked towards him.

Time to run like a chicken, I guess. "Yeah Biff, but you're forgetting one thing. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"

His fingers fumbled as he tried to shake the used cigarette butts from the tray, aiming the makeshift frisbee directly at Biff's head. He didn't wait to see if it hit his target, for as soon as the projectile left his grasp he bolted away from the desk. Holy shit, that was intense-

A loud thunk was quickly followed by the eerie sound of a gun cocking. "You're dead, you little son of a bitch!" Biff roared, aiming his revolver directly at the teenager's head.

Marty paid no attention to the threat as he made a desperate superhero leap for the couch, his eyes completely focused on the door. The first bullet audibly whizzed past his feet, shattering a vase as he dived over the top. Shit! That was too close!

Knowing that he didn't have time to grab anything to defend himself, he forced himself off of the carpet, hissing as the fibres left a burn across his skin as he made a second dash for the office exit.

Gotta get to Doc gotta get to-

His sweaty hand had just grasped onto the door handle and it turned-

A guttural cry emanated from his throat.

Time seemed to stop.

His body fell, going limp like a stringless puppet.

His shoulder was burning, the flames tickling like microscopic knives in his flesh as they sunk deep enough to rattle the nerves below.

Something hot and viscous was soaking the top of his shirt.

He vaguely registered someone pulling him by the collar, the sound of shattering glass fading alongside the rest of his senses. That sounded expensive…

He was eventually roused by painful muscle twinges. Where'd it come from though?

"…Mom?"

Someone was dabbing his forehead; he lazily tried to bat them away, only for his newfound strength to vanish. Not this bullshit again…

He shifted slightly and couldn't stop the strangled sob that left his throat while doing so. Something near his collarbone was searing and throbbing hard enough to produce an overwhelming sense of nausea.

He decided it was worth trying to find out what the hell was going on, and strained to pry his eyelids open. A flash of red hair dangled in front of him, as did a heavily-jewelled wrist. "Mom?"

"Shush…I'm here, baby."

"Why…hurts?" His brain and mouth refused to collaborate; the act of concocting a reasonable sentence seemed impossible. Biff's got something to do with this, I'm sure of it-

His mind's eye finally conjured the image of Biff's revolver, though the revelation seemed to have come too late; the minute amount of energy left in his battered body was slipping away, and the pull of the void was growing ever stronger. "Biff!…"

"I'll kill him for this, I swear I will…" His mom didn't seem to be talking to him, even though he realised she was staring directly at him. Is she crying?

Why is she so blurry?

Wait…

Doc had prayed he wouldn't have to infiltrate Biff's dwellings, but all of his other leads had run dry. I probably should've tried looking here first, to be honest…

Once he'd landed the Delorean safely on the skyscraper's roof, he'd wasted no time in combing his way through each floor of Biff's Paradise. He'd been wracked with fear for Marty's safety as soon as he'd discovered the true horror of the 1985 they'd landed in, and despite six hours of searching, the teenager was nowhere to be found. Kid's gotta be in here somewhere.

Part of him knew that Marty had likely come to the tower of free will, but what worried him was the fact he apparently hadn't left. Did he get hurt? Was he kidnapped? Or even kill-

No. Doc paused abruptly in his tracks and pressed his fist against the nearest wall, berating his mind firmly. Don't you even consider that as a possibility.

That is not allowed to be a possibility.

He was about to pry open the door to the stairwell when a faint but familiar voice sent shivers down his spine. "…and make sure it looks like lead poisoning! I don't want the damn police harassing me again over a 'suspicious'-looking injury."

Tannen! Damn! Doc darted through the door, leaving it open enough for him to see the tycoon walking towards the elevator. So Marty is still alive…I think?

A cold sweat spread across his forehead. Either he's already dead, or he's not far from it.

I gotta move faster.

Doc gripped the railing as he descended to the next floor, walking as fast as his aging and arthritic knees would allow. He pushed open the door to the main floor and sighed as he realised just how many floors he still had left to search. Floor twenty-seven, here we come.

He had barely rounded the corner from the stairwell when he came across a woman kneeling in the middle of the corridor, sobbing hysterically over a body that he realised was dressed in very familiar clothing. Oh shit, no…! "Marty!"

Was I too late?!

The woman looked up as Doc sprinted to her side, revealing the teary and bruised face of Lorraine Baines McFly. Her eyes widened as she recognised the scientist, though it did nothing to stop her tears. "D-Doctor Brown! H-How-"

"No time to explain," Doc whispered quickly, leaning past her in preparation to lift Marty from the floor. At that moment, he didn't care about the drastic change in Lorraine's appearance, or the ridiculous outfit she was sporting; it was almost a complete tunnel vision as he gazed at the unconscious form of his best friend.

He gasped as he caught sight of Marty's torn shirt, with a suspiciously-bloody handkerchief sticking out of his shoulder. "What the hell happened?!"

"They shot him!" Lorraine sobbed, clutching her hair in desperation. "H-He tried to escape and the b-bastard got him! They're gonna kill him! B-Biff's gonna…I-I tried to carry him, but t-these damn heels—"

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm here to take Marty. Help me get him to the roof!" Doc pleaded, ensuring the makeshift bandage was secure before lifting the teenager in a bridal carry. Damn, he weighs almost nothing!

And yet my back is still protesting.

"I can't! Biff'll be back here any minute!" Lorraine whispered hysterically, glancing behind her in fear. She pressed a kiss to Marty's forehead, stifling a sob before she began hobbling down the corridor. "Go!"

Deciding it wasn't best to argue at this point, all Doc could give Lorraine was a determined nod. He adjusted his hold on Marty's limp frame and made a dash for the nearest lift, pressing the call button with his elbow. I love you dearly, Marty, but I am not climbing ten floors with you on my back.

He released a tense breath he didn't realise he'd been holding as the doors opened, revealing an empty elevator. Doc quickly scanned the long list of buttons before pressing the top floor, his heart panging at a hoarse groan that escaped Marty's lips. Hang on a bit longer, Marty…