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Lone Pine timeline, Summer of 1973
Becoming a family friend to the McFlys was an unexpected side-effect of the changed timeline for Doc; initially being a link to his “nephew,” Calvin Klein, George and Lorraine had more or less dragged him aboard their ship once they had tied the knot and set sail—standing by him in the aftermath of Brown Mansion burning down and the rest of town branding him as the Mad Scientist of Hill Valley. That meant more to him than he could put into words.
Being invited to lunches and dinners at the McFlys became a commonplace occurrence, even after the McFly children were born. The timeline was different now, Doc rationalized. The exact occurrences of the original timeline Marty had talked about did not necessarily apply anymore.
And so, Doc continued to accept the meal invitations even after Marty was born; it was with some amount of satisfaction that Doc observed that the young Marty seemed to hold on to every word when Doc and George discussed science shop for George’s writing ideas. And Doc was more than happy to answer the curious child’s questions about science.
It was on a stormy evening in July of 1973 that Doc had come by for another dinner invitation with the family.
“Oh, thank goodness you made it!” Lorraine had exclaimed, upon his arrival. “The storm’s supposed to get worse!”
“I debated coming,” Doc admitted. “I didn’t want to put you out in case—”
“Nonsense, Doctor—you know we’re always glad to have you here!” George insisted. “Kids, say hi to Dr. Brown!”
Dave and Linda gave him a cursory greeting, but five-year-old Marty was nowhere to be seen.
“Is Marty alright?” Doc asked, concerned.
“He’s fine; it’s just the storm…” Lorraine sighed. “Marty! Marty, come down to dinner, please! It’s rude to keep Dr. Brown waiting!”
A blanket-wrapped blob appeared on the landing upstairs.
“But, Moooooooom—”
“Marty…” Lorraine said, gently, but firmly.
“Come on, Chicken!” Dave called. “It’s time for dinner!”
The blanket came flying off as Marty glared daggers at his elder brother.
“Don’t call me Chicken, you pig!” he yelled as loudly as a five-year-old could muster.
“That’s enough!” George chided. “Dave, don’t antagonize your brother! And Marty, you can’t react like that every time someone calls you names!”
“He started it!” Marty protested.
“I’m not the one scared of a little lightning!” Dave pointed out.
“Mom, can we adopt a sister? Please?” Linda begged.
“Dinner!” Lorraine insisted.
She gave an apologetic look to Doc as she corralled her brood to the table; Doc gave her a calm smile to assure her that he wasn’t put out at all.
The older Marty’s rant in 1955 about letting Biff get to him made a lot more sense now, he realized.
They were partway through an enjoyable meal when the storm intensified; the lightning flashed even more brightly and the thunder boomed even louder—and Marty grew more and more agitated, visibly trembling.
Doc tried to distract Marty with more science conversations, but, finally, as one particularly close crack nearly shook the house, Marty couldn’t take it anymore—with a wail, he got up from his chair and ran from the table.
“Oh, Marty…” Lorraine sighed.
“Chicken!” Dave called after him.
“David!” George said, sternly. He looked to Doc in embarrassment. “Doctor, I’m sorry—”
“It’s alright, George; I’ll go have a talk with Marty and see if I can get him to look at the storm through a more scientific lens,” Doc said, getting up from the table and allowing George to have a talking to with Dave.
He headed for the stairs, pausing as the blanket-covered blob had now reappeared on the upper landing.
“Marty?” he asked.
Marty just whimpered from beneath his blanket sanctuary; Doc headed up the stairs and took a seat beside him on the landing.
“You know, there are reasons to be afraid of lightning if you’re outside,” Doc said, thinking about his future counterpart being sent to 1885. “It can be dangerous. But when you’re inside, you’re actually pretty safe.”
Marty just whimpered again.
“It’s true,” Doc continued.
“But it broke the clock tower,” Marty said. “Everyone says so!”
“Yes, it did,” Doc admitted. “I was right there when it happened. Literally, right there.” And so were you. “That’s why I said you don’t want to be outside. You see, Marty, a bolt of lightning is just electricity—the same thing that powers the lights, the TV, the air conditioning… Granted, it’s 1.21 gigawatts, but it’s still electricity.”
Marty stuck his face out from the blanket fort.
“Is that a lot?” he asked.
“Lots of watts,” Doc agreed, with a nod. “And with a lot of watts like that, big things can happen—forest fires… a clock tower stopping… a time machine going back to the future…”
“Huh?” Marty asked. “I don’t get it.”
“You will someday—I promise,” Doc assured him. “But nevermind that—what is it about lightning that you don’t like?”
“It’s too bright and loud,” Marty said, wincing as another bolt illustrated his point.
“Well, a lot of watts will make a lot of light and sound,” Doc said. “You don’t have to be afraid—but it’s okay if you are.”
“I’m NOT a chicken!” Marty insisted. He spoke with an urgency that insisted it was vital that Doc knew this.
In any other situation, Doc would have found Marty’s young indignance and pride to be amusing, but the inventor’s mind was back in 1955, thinking about the teenager who faced off against Biff multiple times to ensure that his parents got together and stayed together.
“I know you’re not, Marty,” Doc promised him. “In fact, you’re the bravest person I know.”
Marty blinked in surprise, not expecting that at all.
“Really?” he asked, his eyes going wide.
Doc once again thought back to 1955—to the boy who moved Heaven and Earth to give him the letter that would save his life… who promised him that he would go back to 1885 and bring his future self back home… who, the last time Doc saw him, was driving off into the past to make good on that promise…
“Yes, Marty—really,” he replied, sincerely. You’re going to be so brave that you’ll save this old man more times than he probably deserves.
Marty looked away for a moment, pleased to hear this.
“And then I’ll show Dave and everyone!” he said, more to himself.
“Undoubtedly,” Doc agreed. “Now then, there’s a perfectly good dinner downstairs going cold. I say we go back and stop it from getting colder—what do you think, Marty?”
“…Yeah, I’m still hungry,” Marty admitted.
He finally threw the blanket fort off, heading back to the dining room with Doc. Dave was rather subdued, clearly having been admonished for antagonizing Marty again; Linda was smirking into her glass of water.
“How are you now, Marty?” Lorraine asked her youngest, gently.
“Fine!” Marty said, going back to stuffing himself. And, indeed, he only gave the slightest pause at the next lightning strike before continuing to eat.
“Did Dr. Brown explain the storm to you?” George asked.
“Uh-huh, it’s just e-lec-tri-ci-ty,” he sounded out. “But a lot of watts. But Doc says I’m the bravest person he knows!”
“Did he?” Lorraine asked.
“Uh-huh!” Marty said, pride in his voice.
Dave looked like he was about to say something, but a look from George made him reconsider.
“Well, thank you, Doctor, for explaining it to him and… indulging him a bit,” Lorraine said.
“I’m a scientist—I deal with facts,” Doc insisted.
Lorraine shook her head in amusement, and soon, the topic of conversation turned to something else.
It was just as well, Doc decided; the rest of the McFlys didn’t need to know the extent of what Marty was going to do—and Marty himself would learn in time just how brave he would be.