Chapter Text
13-year-old Marty McFly sits alone on the front steps of the middle school building and watches forlornly as a group of kids zoom by on their skateboards, laughing loudly as they pass. Marty’s own skateboard had been confiscated by his overly cautious mother after his accident at the courthouse. Kids fall off their boards all the time, he had argued. It’s not that big a deal, mom! But his mother wouldn’t have it. Now he had to stay put at the school every day and wait for one of his parents to come pick him up instead of riding home like every other kid in town. All because of one bad turn and a stupid skinned knee.
After a few minutes of agonizing boredom, Marty stands up abruptly. “Forget this, I’m just going to walk,” he declares to no one in particular. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he trudges down the steps and heads toward town square. It’s more of a walk than he’d like to take, but knowing his parents they would take ages to get there and then probably lecture him on the importance of safety while they got stuck in afternoon traffic. Walking was the lesser of two evils in this situation.
Marty is readjusting his heavy backpack with a huff when one of his shoelaces catch and send him tumbling headfirst into the street. He barely has time to register the approaching car when a strong pair of hands grab his shirt collar and yank him out of harm’s way. The car honks loudly and the driver yells out a rather rude phrase before speeding off. Marty rubs his head, smarting slightly from the impact, and turns to find the hand that saved him now offering to help him up.
“You okay, kid?”
His rescuer looks to be a teenager, older than himself but still not that far into adulthood. His hair is slicked back in what Marty imagines was the style when his parents were kids. His clothes look dated and yet at the same time unnatural. But all of these details mean nothing compared to the stranger’s eyes, filled with kindness and concern as he offers a hand.
“You should be more careful.”
Marty nods as he takes hold of said hand, which hoists him easily to his feet.
“Thanks, mister,” he replies, brushing off his jeans. The stranger gives him a knowing smile. Marty finds the level of familiarity a bit off-putting and starts to continue on his way before the stranger suddenly grabs hold of his arm. It’s not a threatening gesture but it causes Marty to jump.
“Please, wait.” The man’s face is suddenly serious, almost solemn. He hesitates before pulling a plain white envelope from his pocket. “Do you know a man named Dr. Emmett Brown?”
Marty gives the man a perplexed. Everyone knows about the “mad scientist” Dr. Brown and his peculiar experiments. To be honest, Marty himself has often wondered about the strange goings-on in the man’s lab, but had been told by his parents and other authority figures to never talk to him. So why is this person asking about him?
“I know of him,” the younger boy responds. “Why?”
The man holds out the envelope for Marty to take, but doesn’t let go immediately. “I need you to take this to him. Tell him it’s of great urgency. Tell him…” He pauses, searching for the right words. “Tell him he was right.”
Marty tugs the envelope out of the man’s grip and examines it. Nothing appears to be written on it aside from “Doc Brown” scrawled on the front. He looks back to the strange man.
“I’m—I’m not supposed to talk to Dr. Brown. My parents told me—“
The man gently grasps Marty’s shoulders. “I know, but I really need you do this. I need you to trust me.”
Something about his tone indicates an urgency to the situation. It scares him.
“Please, will you do this for me, Marty?”
The younger boy nods at last and tucks the envelope away into his backpack. The man smiles warmly and says, “Thank you” before straightening abruptly and turning to leave. Marty watches him disappear across the street. A red truck drives by and when it has passed, the stranger is nowhere to be found.
Marty glances around before taking the envelope out again. He stares at the name scrawled on the front: Doc Brown.
Feeling a rush of excitement from the strange encounter, Marty hurries toward the location of Dr. Brown’s garage-turned-house, gripping the envelope tightly.
It’s not until he reaches the chain-link gate of the garage that he reflects on what the man had said.
He didn’t recall actually telling the man his name.