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Marty woke up in cold sweat. He darted into a sitting position and clutched his hand over his chest, catching his breath. After doing so he slumped back down in his soft bed that usually seemed so inviting to him, but it began to appear less and less so since he'd been having these god awful recurring nightmares. The dream was always the same. He watched Doc get shot the second time when he had already come back from the past and as it happened in the real world he ran over to him and started crying. But the ending of the story was never that of reality, Doc never read his letter and never woke up and Marty watched as he just... bled out. Though Marty knew that wasn't how things went he never truly calmed down until he went to see Doc like he does every afternoon. But this dream was unusually vivid and as Marty raised a hand to his face, he couldn't seem to stop it from shaking. Plus the sensation of his racing heart was enough for him to realize that he was definitely not going back to sleep.
He sat up again with a quiet groan. Gripping the edge of his bed he lowered his head and took a deep breath in a futile last attempt to calm his nerves and let his exhaustion take over. When it didn't work he pushed himself into a standing position. His vision got slightly hazy and he used the wall to steady himself and when it cleared he almost immediately reached a shaky hand out to grab the phone on his bedside table and dial a number. That number being Doc's of course. After a small wait someone picked up and the scientist's tired voice could be heard.
"Marty, kid, is everything alright?"
He asked and Marty let out a relieved sigh upon hearing him speak. The boy collected his thoughts and cleared his throat, which he realized was hurting in the process. He must've screamed, or at least made noise in his sleep.
"Yeah, totally. Can I come over?"
His words were raspy, riddled with sleep. Doc stayed quiet for a moment after that, probably checking the clock or simply wondering why the hell Marty chose this ungodly time to call him or why he wanted to come over in the middle of the night.
"Why in God's name do you want to come over now? Is there something wrong with the space-time continuum that needs fixing?"
He asks, confused. The words sound slightly accusing to Marty and a wave of embarrassment creeps into his conscience. He's acting like a little kid scared of the dark, but that's precisely what he was wasn't he?
"No, no." He reassured with a small sigh. "The continuum is fine, I think. I just really need to come over, Doc."
Marty's tone of voice was desperate enough that the scientist agreed. The brunette threw a hoodie over his pajamas and put on his signature obnoxiously fiery orange vest and went to grab his skateboard. He snuck out successfully, like he usually does. It's not his first time, he's not a rookie. Hopping on his skateboard he dashed down the road. In record time, 10 minutes, he made it to Doc's uncharacteristically large residence. He knocked on the door, their secret code, and eventually a slightly disheveled and only half awake scientist opened up. Marty threw himself at the poor man like his life depended on it and he just started sobbing. After Doc took a few seconds to process what happened, he put his arms around the boy and his expression changed from shock to one of slight concern. But he still closed his front door as fast as he could, pulling Marty inside. It was cold, neither of them needed to get sick right now, plus there should be no outsiders being able to look into his house. He pushed the brunette away slightly, grabbing him by the shoulder. Marty wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve. Doc looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before he spoke up.
"Marty! What on earth happened?"
The brunette walked over to the cot he had in Doc's house. When he helped with inventions he often stayed over to sleep, or when he just needed some space away from his family, the old one. He looked up at the scientist who was staring at him expecting a response. Marty ran a hand through his hair and sighed.
"Nothing. I just had a dream."
The words were quiet, but enough for Doc to hear who let out a noise of agitation.
"Great Scott! I knew this would happen eventually!"
He said, clearly annoyed. Marty looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. His gaze was enough for Doc to realize he wanted answers so he continued.
"Time travel side effects. Your dream was related to your venture into the past wasn't it?"
Marty nodded in understanding, but in reality Doc getting shot wasn't in the past. Sure, it was technically when he went back to the past, but it wasn't related. Moreover it was because of the little time travel adventure that Doc had survived and Marty couldn't be more thankful for that. The brunette's eyebrows drew together slightly.
"Not really."
Marty yawned in the middle of his sentence. Now it was the scientist's turn to be confused. He was so sure the effects would come up eventually. So it wasn't that, but then what?
"So then what was it?"
He asked, dumbfounded. It annoyed Marty that Doc, the smartest man he knew, couldn't put the pieces together. He stood again, this time steady on his legs.
"Doc, I had a nightmare about your death."
He explained flatly. He stared at the man who seemed slightly dumbfounded for a few seconds in silence. And he couldn't help but tear up again and neither could he help the fact that his legs moved forward on their own and he slumped down slightly, burying his face into Doc's shoulder, his arms loosely around the man's torso. The scientist put his arms around the boy, a lot more firmly than he had before. By reflex his hand moved to Marty's back, circling over it gently.
"Sorry, kid. I didn't mean to, you know, die in front of you like that."
Marty shook his head, dismissing the apology silently. He raised his arms to hold onto Doc's lab coat. The two of them stayed like that for a good while. The brunette finally had time to calm down and cry himself out. When there were no tears left he pulled away and looked at Doc. Marty's eyes were still slightly glossy and just a tad bit red. Not to mention the dark circles that adorned the area underneath them. He cleared his throat to regain his voice.
"I'm just glad you're not actually, you know."
Despite his efforts the words still sounded hoarse. He sat back down on his cot, not willing to look at Doc, who sat next to him with a frown on his face.
"I struggle to believe this was your first time dreaming about my death. Have you been hiding it?"
Marty scoffed quietly. Even if the scientist didn't always see the big picture he was still undeniably intelligent. Maybe he was the one lying and he had known all along. But his cover was definitely blown, not that he really minded, but he would've preferred not to burden Doc with his weird, fucked up dreams. Regardless, he shook his head, letting the man know he was right.
"It's been with me ever since I made it back. I went through the whole 1955 dilemma thinking I'd never see you again."
His voice cracked. The tears that were not even there anymore threatened to spill again, maybe in his imagination.
"I thought I couldn't save you Doc."
His breath hitched and he ran a hand through his hair, annoyed at himself for struggling to regulate his emotions so bad. Marty felt Doc's hand on his back and he let out a shaky sigh, looking down. Half in shame and half because he still wasn't sure whether he'd start sobbing like a five year-old again.
"Marty, you're the bravest kid out there. I'm sorry I scared you, but you know, you and your persistence saved me. Looking back now, I would've never forgiven myself if I hadn't listened to you. I think about it every day."
The scientist pat Marty's back gently. He cleared his throat.
"Seriously though, you really gotta sleep now, kid. I can't have my valuable counterpart sleep deprived."
The brunette chuckled weakly in response. Doc stood from next to him and rushed over to his desk, shuffling through it and making an enormous mess as usual. Marty stared at him, curious, but half asleep and ready to pass out any moment now. When the man turned back around he was holding a worn out and weirdly patched up teddy. By the looks of it it had been well loved. Doc threw it at Marty who only barely caught it with how sluggish his limbs felt. He examined it with slightly narrowed eyes. The plush was definitely very old, nobody sold things like that now. Or maybe it was handmade and that's why it looked so crudely stitched together. Marty still found it cute regardless, he had a knack for finding things adorable that were weird in a way.
"That guy is Sir Isaac Newton."
Doc said proudly, his hands on his hips as if he were a young child showing his greatest creation to their teacher. That's what it felt like anyway.
"He was my childhood imaginary friend, who wasn't really imaginary, but you get it. I want you to have him now."
Marty stared at Doc in slight disbelief. Not because of the revelation that Doc had an imaginary friend, in fact that seemed obvious, once a mad scientist always a mad scientist, just take one look at the man, but because Doc wanted him to have the bear.
"Why?"
The question slipped out faster than the brunette wanted it to, but it would've come out eventually. Doc rolled his eyes like the answer was obvious. He opened his mouth to speak nonetheless.
"Great Scott, Marty."
He said with a foux frown.
"I'm giving him to you because, kid, I can see how shaken you are and Sir Isaac Newton the bear was my comfort when I was upset. Plus he'll remind ya of me. Think of it as a family heirloom, without the family part."
Explained the scientist with his signature grin on his face. He turned the lights off in the room and scurried to the door. Marty spoke up before he could close it.
"Doc!"
The scientist looked back, although the boy only knew that because he didn't hear the click of the door.
"Thanks."
He continued with an appreciative smile that the other couldn't see, but hoped he knew was there.
"Any time, Marty. Now, sleep tight. I expect your help tomorrow."
Marty saluted in the dark.
"You're the doc, Doc."
Satisfied with the answer the scientist left the room swiftly, leaving the brunette alone with his thoughts again. This time they were calmer, he didn't feel as upset anymore. He laid down in his cot, clutching the plush in his arms. It smelled faintly of various chemicals and dust, it smelled like Doc which Marty greatly appreciated. Eventually his exhaustion took over his mind and he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber, finally getting the rest he needed.