Day 7 - Stumbling
A/N: Rescuing your grandfather is hard enough without having to stop yourself from disappearing. Set during Episode II: Get Tannen.
He thought he'd never experience this sensation again.
And yet, fate seemed to enjoy messing with his sense of security and permanency in the space-time continuum.
It scared him how suddenly it had appeared. He hadn't even been able to finish answering Doc about Einstein's whereabouts when he was forced to drop to his knees, panting as an indescribable - but eerily familiar - pain began rippling through his body. All it took was a look at his translucent hand and he found himself reduced to a hyperventilating wreck, the memories of his near-disappearance in 1955 suddenly rushing back to him. For a moment he was back on stage, the guitar hanging loosely around his neck as he watched his fingers and hand ripple away into oblivion.
The sudden appearance of Office Parker meant that he had no time to properly discuss these memories with Doc, or to even process what the hell he was supposed to do to save his grandfather. Do I stop him from getting jumped in the first place? Do I take him to the hospital?!
That cop just happened to show up right when I needed to talk to Doc the most…
Adrenaline seemed to keep the ripple effect away enough for him to secretly park the Delorean before he collapsed into the steering wheel, bracing his abdomen as his body rapidly flickered. The feeling of how the individual cells in his body were scrubbed away as his physical form faded was already bad enough, but what terrified him more was how he seemed to be disappearing faster than the previous occasion. I had a week with my parents before it started to happen, so why is it different this time?!
Part of him wondered if it had something to do with how much time travel he'd done at this point. The other part of him decided that was a question for another day, and as soon as the latest wave of agony had rolled over, he secured the Delorean before making a beeline for the courthouse.
In peak physical condition he knew he could finish the journey barely breaking a sweat, yet now he found himself having to pause as his body spasmed. At one point he had to curl up underneath a windowsill, a hand firmly pressed against his mouth to stop the home's occupants from hearing his croaky gasps of pain.
When he finally came across the familiar sight of the clock tower, he couldn't stop the weak sigh of relief that left his throat. That was way harder than it should've been. And though he wanted nothing more than to curl up on one of the park benches and regain his breathe, Marty forced his uncooperative (and possibly nonexistent) legs to continue onward.
It was only when he spotted his past self and had to adopt a nearby tree as a hiding spot that he suddenly realised just how weak his body had become in such a short timeframe. A cold dread washed over him when he couldn't pull himself upright; his quads were seemingly locked in a squatting position, his torso trembling violently as he gripped the tree bark. But Grandpa isn't dead yet! What the hell is going on?!
He felt his stomach drop even further as he caught sight of Einstein, the faithful canine bounding away from Past Marty's side as his nose finally detected his hiding spot. "Shit!"
Shit shit no!
If he sees me then I see me and then the whole universe blows up!
At least, I think that's how Doc said it works…
Marty's panicked eyes quickly landed on a fallen twig, and he prayed to every deity that he'd ever heard of that his plan worked. He gritted his teeth as he leaned as far forward as his body would tolerate, the tips of his fingers brushing uselessly against the twig. Come on, move you stupid thing!
Einstein's steps grew steadily louder, as did his panting.
A strained groan left his lips, sweat brewing on his forehead. For God's sake, I should be able to pick up a damn twig!
As if the universe had heard his internal monologue, the thin stick rolled towards him, allowing his trembling fingers to finally grasp it just as Einstein came to a stop. Oh, thank God…
"What's up, Einy? Is it a squirrel?"
SHIT! It's me!
Marty tossed the stick as far as he could from his twisted position, sighing as he heard the telltale pitter-patter of Einstein's paws running across the grass. Please don't bring it back please don't bring it back please don't-
A shrill scream erupted from the far side of the park, and he couldn't help but smile to himself as he realised just where he'd thrown the stick: right at the foot of Edna Strickland, cowering in fear as an aggressive Einstein barked furiously at her. You deserve it, you old bat.
Wait, how did I manage to throw it that far?
"Einstein!" Past Marty shouted, his voice fading as he sprinted past the tree. "Get away from the…uh, nice lady!"
Marty chuckled. "Nice lady, my ass. Now, to get into that courtho-Gahh!"
He found himself doubling over, clutching at - or rather, through - his transparent torso. God, this is getting really annoying.
Without warning his legs finally gave way, the rest of his body tumbling to the ground as his forehead scraped along the side of the tree. He wanted to be relieved, to be reassured that his body wasn't completely screwed at this point; that he hadn't run out of time.
But the suspicious tingling in his extremities did not inspire confidence, nor did the sudden tightness of his chest. Marty sucked in as big a breath as he could, straining to pull his failing body from the ground. I'm so sick of this shit.
Let's go stop another paradox…