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“I think he’s coming around! Marty? Marty?”
This scenario was one that Marty had revisited often, and he gave a slight groan, wondering just how many times he’d have to endure this.
“Mom? Mom, is that you?”
“Yes, just relax, Marty.”
Marty sighed internally, knowing what was coming next.
“I had a horrible nightmare. I was… I was, uh…”
…What had he been doing?
“Well, you’re safe and sound now,” Lorraine sighed.
Marty waited for more, but it never came.
“…What year is this?” he asked.
“It’s 1986, of course,” another voice replied.
“Dad? Wait, that’s not how it…”
Marty opened his eyes—and then blinked in surprise to see not only his mother and father, but the entire Brown family surrounding him in his permanent guest room in the Browns’ new Hill Valley home.
“George, I think he’s still delirious,” Lorraine fretted. “Maybe we should have the hospital take a quick look at him.”
“Take a quick look at me!? What happened!?”
“You don’t remember?” Doc asked, concerned.
“…Sometimes it’s hard to keep track, Doc…”
“You fainted!” Verne declared.
“…What?” Marty asked. “Why would I faint!? I had breakfast!”
“It’s this wretched heat wave,” Clara sighed. “People are expected to carry on—of course they’re going to run themselves to exhaustion in this weather!”
“Sure, it’s just a bit hot out, but why would I faint from that!?” Marty wondered aloud.
“You collapsed from heat exhaustion because it was hot out and you were running around drinking nothing but a can of Pepsi,” Jules informed him. “That is not sufficient hydration for the current heat wave, you know.”
“I think we should all be grateful that Dr. Brown went to look for you after you failed to show up for lunch,” Lorraine sighed.
“Oh. Thanks, Doc.”
“Anytime, Marty,” Doc nodded. “I’m just glad you’re getting better.”
“I still think we should get a professional’s opinion on that,” George said. “I’ll see to getting a house call—if you don’t mind, Doctor, can I ask them to come here? I’d rather not move Marty until they say it’s okay.”
“Of course, George. And Marty is welcome to stay here—you all are,” Doc assured him.
“Thanks, Doctor—we just might take you up on that,” Lorraine said.
Marty groaned; he hated people fussing over him. And as he laid back on his pillow, he took note that no one seemed to be moving from his bedside—meaning that they would continue to fuss over him.
…But there were worse fates, he reminded himself. After all, he’d seen them himself.
This was an annoyance that he would gladly endure.