Day 28 - Gag

A/N: Professor Irving's minions ensure that Doc is lured into a trap. Can be read as a sequel to Day 17 Struggle. Set during Issue 4 of Who is Marty McFly? (BTTF #15)

"I'm so sorry this isn't the rescue you expected, Marty."

"Mmmm."

"I admit it is partially my own fault; I shouldn't have come in 'guns blazing', as they say."

"Mmm." Seriously Doc, can you stop apologising and start thinking of an escape plan? It's embarrassing enough that you had to find me like this.

"I should've expected Irving to be the type to spring a trap! Why the hell didn't I realise?"

"Mmm-hmm?" It wasn't me struggling and trying to yell through all this tape on my face?

"I don't suppose he gave you any indications as to what else his plans contained?"

"Mm-mnn."

"Shame. I was hoping he would do the stereotypical villain monologue. That would've made our job a lot easier."

Yeah no shit, Doc.

"Are you hurt at all, Marty?"

My ego will need some resuscitation, but otherwise no. "Mm-mnn."

"Good. Apologies…I should've asked that first."

It's okay, Doc. You were kinda busy swearing at Irving.

Both men sat silently in the darkness, cursing that Irving hadn't been bothered to leave the light on. Marty's eyes had adjusted enough that he could recognise Doc's outline, but otherwise had no idea what else was there.

There was a sudden rustling, as if Doc was squirming around in his pockets for something. Marty's eyebrows quirked as he strained to see through the darkness. "Mmmhmm?"

"It's a…lucky…thing that Irving…didn't know…I was a boy scout!" Doc gasped with relief, his outline suddenly rising from the chair he'd been tied to.

If it could have moved, Marty's jaw would've fallen open. "Mmhmm!" How the hell did you pull that off, Doc?!

"It was good fortune that Irving was lazy enough to use some simple cord to bind my hands, Marty," Doc explained quickly, fumbling around in the air for the cord to the singular light bulb. "He was also not very good at creating tough knots- ah-ha! There it is."

Marty groaned involuntarily as his retinas were suddenly flooded with light, blinking furiously in an attempt to see Doc. The older man rushed from the light bulb over to Marty, his eyes flickering over the younger man in concern. "Marty, you didn't tell me they punched you?"

Marty's brow furrowed in confusion. "Mmm?" Where?

"You've got a spectacular bruise forming on your right cheek." Doc took the liberty of gently touching the afflicted area, eliciting a squeak of pain from the teenager.

Okay Doc, I believe you!

"And they've left a laceration on your eyebrow too-"

"Mmm-mmn!" Okay Doc, seriously! Can you untie me already?

Doc fiddled with his fingertips, struggling to pry the edge of the tape away from Marty's face. "Really, Marty, you should've told me you were hurt!"

Oh yeah? How was I supposed to-GAHHH!

An involuntary groan came from Marty as the tape was swiftly lifted from his skin, his eyes watering with the pain. The second the adhesive departed his lips, he found himself gasping for air. "…SHIT!"

Doc cringed sympathetically. "Sorry…there was no polite way of removing it."

I believe you, Doc.