Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Doc woke up with a start. The last thing he could remember was the Delorean hitting 88, engulfed by that all too familiar blue lightning. Then all he could recall was darkness, a brief loss of consciousness.

His head lolled to the side, then noticing the empty seat beside himself. Marty was gone. Either his friend had left to explore, or…

A pit dropped in his stomach. 

No.

It had only been a few minutes, right? It couldn’t have been that long, not enough time for the timeline to catch up, so to speak. Marty just…he must’ve escaped the Delorean, must’ve gone exploring Hill Valley. He was safe. He was okay.

Rolling his head back forward, Doc noticed the cause of his troubles. A billboard. A damn billboard. Yet…he couldn’t recall Hill Valley ever constructing a billboard near or within its borders.

And the face staring back at him looked all too familiar.

A new wave of dread and anxiety consumed Doc. If that face was who he thought it was, and there was now a billboard in Hill Valley, that meant…

He tried to dismiss the thought. Worrying about that now wasn’t going to resolve anything. He just had to think rationally, logically come up with the answers for his dilemma.

Doc looked out the window, trying to get a better idea of the situation he was in. It was a billboard all right, and there was a ladder alongside. However, it wasn’t exactly going to be easy to get down. It was perhaps a few feet down to get to the bar, then he’d have to carefully get to the rungs of the ladder. He began to rummage through the items thrown into the Delorean, then managed to find the hoverboard by pure chance. The hoverboard Marty always used.

For a second, Doc’s mind filled with anxiety. Then, he pushed those thoughts aside. Marty was fine. He had always been fine.

Carefully, Doc placed the hoverboard overtop of the metal walkway attached to the billboard. It floated, saving him a few feet of falling. That is, if he could land properly on top of it. Marty always made it look quite easy, but now being in the position where he had to simply land on a hoverboard, Doc found it rather intimidating. He swung himself out of the Delorean quite carefully, then delicately put his feet on the hoverboard. The hoverboard shifted, reacting to the newfound weight upon it. Without much thought, Doc instinctively grabbed a hold of the sides of the car, attempting to maintain his balance but to little avail. He had to get off the hoverboard and onto the ground, or else risk hurting himself and failing in his mission.

Quickly, he hopped down, using the side of the billboard for balance. His timing was impeccable, considering the hoverboard slid out from underneath him. It flew down the side of the billboard, having no ground to hover on. 

“Marty’s going to be quite upset about that later…” Doc muttered, thoughtfully. He could always retrieve him a new hoverboard in 2015, after he sorted out this new dilemma. 

With some effort, Doc climbed down the rungs of the ladder, right when he heard a creak. The billboard shuddered, and Doc’s hands clung even tighter to the rung. Quicker than a blink of an eye, tons of steel fell from the billboard, collapsing in a heap on the grass.

Doc shook, but it wasn’t from the billboard swaying still. Now, he was going to need to do further repairs, and he was going to need to hurry. Eventually, the bubble would burst. The timeline would be set, and there would be nothing he could do to repair it. Unfortunately, he never knew when that would happen, which meant he’d have to stay on his toes. 

Thinking of the car, Doc cringed at the damage done. Hopping onto the earth, he rushed over to the Delorean. His life’s work was now a smoking, dented wreck! For a second, his eyes got watery, but he reminded himself that the car might not even exist if he stood here too long. It would quite possibly vanish into nonexistence when the time stream corrected itself, along with him. They both wouldn’t exist, and he now understood why Marty was constantly having some existential crisis. 

He turned, noticing that Hill Valley was blocked off. Odd. Very odd. Hill Valley never had those walls before, and why should it? What did the walls protect them from ? Doc looked around, attempting to find someone who could offer him assistance. And lo and behold, there was a teenager meandering along the outside fence, seemingly picking up trash. At least that seemed normal…

“Hello?” Doc called, but received no answer. He repeated himself but louder, once again receiving no response. The teen had headphones placed over her ears, and the music was extremely loud. The only way to get her attention, possibly, was to go up to her and give her a tap on the shoulder, but Doc did not want to startle her. Yet…the mission was more important. Repairing the timeline was always more important.

Gently, after he had approached her, he gave her a tap on the shoulder. As expected, she was startled. She whipped around, quick to take off her headphones, and he realized that, despite the black hair and bright highlights, it was Jennifer Parker .

In his own timeline, Doc only saw her on the occasion, but he saw her frequently enough to recognize the face. She was Marty’s girlfriend, which meant he finally had a stroke of good fortune. If he wanted answers about Marty McFly’s whereabouts, if he left the Delorean, and his identity in this timeline, she was a place to start.

“What do you want?” The girl questioned with an eye roll. Her snooty attitude swiftly reminded Doc that this wasn’t the Jennifer Parker he knew.

“Well, I don’t know how to get over that wall,” Doc replied, bluntly. “I need access to Hill Valley. I’m-er-looking for someone.”

“Who?”

Doc paused, now wondering if this was even a good idea. She was clearly suspicious, and might not even give him the answers he needed. But, as his current thought process has been lately, what the hell? “Marty McFly.”

Jennifer scoffed. “Him? Yeah, well, he’s in there, but I don’t see why anyone would have any interest in him.”

Bitter, Doc noted. Not on good terms. He began to wonder if they were even dating in this timeline, but that at least answered some of his questions. Jennifer hadn’t caught any sign of Marty leaving the Delorean and Marty did exist in this timeline. The disruption in the time stream also had nothing to do with Arthur McFly most likely, so what else could it have been?

“Can you at least let me in so I can find him myself?” Doc questioned. Perhaps Jennifer would find something in her to do a good deed for a stranger, or shift him off to be someone else’s problem, but he was instead met with-

“What’s in it for me?”

Great, now he had to negotiate with a teenager, and he didn’t even know what she wanted. He paused, then asked the most obvious question. “What do you want?”

“I don’t even know what you have.” She snarked. “Is this conversation going to be worth my time or not? I have work to do.” Jennifer gestured to the trash lining the grassy hills. There wasn’t exactly much, but that simply meant a lot of walking.

Doc thought for a moment. What would a rebellious teenager want ? Then, he remembered Kid’s flask that Marty had somehow managed to acquire. Would it still remain in the ruckage? Would Jennifer even be satisfied with that? Hell, he was also doing the one thing a responsible adult shouldn’t do! Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t even consider it, but these weren’t normal circumstances. Besides, he had to get back to his own timeline, and this might be the only way to do it. No one else appeared to be around, and Jennifer had to know how to get past the wall.

He rushed over to the pile of metal that used to be the Delorean. For the most part, the car maintained its frame, but it still needed major repairs. It would take him months to fix it, and that was time he didn’t have. The time stream would likely catch up to him in a matter of days, maybe weeks if he was lucky. But no matter how long, it wouldn’t be long enough to turn this pile of mangled metal back into the Delorean. He wondered if he would even be able to put the Delorean back together. Maybe he would need to scrap it altogether and attach the time machine parts, including the Flux Capacitor, to a different means of transportation. 

The door opened with some difficulty. A few harsh yanks finally granted Doc access to its interior, which looked just as bad as the outside. But, after some looking, he managed to find the flask, and, conveniently, a water bottle. The flask wasn’t filled all the way, but he still had some difficulty dumping the alcohol into the Delorean. Even though it was in shambles, he didn’t want to further contribute to its damage. But he also didn’t want to give a teenager alcohol, and here was the solution.

Carefully, he poured the water from the water bottle into the flask, silently praying to whatever was out there that Jennifer wouldn’t take a sip first . If she figured out it was plain water, he’d never get through those gates. After the water bottle emptied, he screwed the cap back on and climbed out of the car, rushing over to her.

“I have this. I’ll give it to you if you let me in,” Doc offered, still huffing from the run over. 

Jennifer eyed it, sizing it up. For a second, Doc wondered if she was going to refuse. Perhaps she would demand more, or straight up refuse the flask. In that case, what else could he give? His breathing stopped momentarily as he awaited her answer.

Then, she eagerly took it from him, but her voice remained unenthusiastic. “I’ll let you in, but that’s it. You’ll have to find your own way around.” 

Doc nodded in response, which led Jennifer to gesture as she began walking. “Follow me.” She went up to the large - no, huge - doors, then pressed her hand to a scanner. Doc couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. How secure was Hill Valley in this timeline?

The doors opened, allowing him a full view of the interior. It looked nothing like his own Hill Valley. All of the buildings were a marble white, and while he could see the Clocktower in the town square, the only resemblance he saw from his own 1986 was the clock itself. Once again, he felt a cold shiver down his spine. What could’ve changed Hill Valley to this degree? What had happened?

Doc looked alongside him, but noticed that Jennifer was already gone. She was dead serious about only helping him through the gates. Now, he was on his own, and had to navigate this odd world himself.

Well, not quite by himself. There was a bustle of people, a seemingly unlimited pool to pick from. He could ask anybody, but he’d have to hope they’d be friendly enough to give him a straight answer. That is, once he could figure out the question he was asking. For a second, he was tempted to ask where a parts store could be found, but reminded himself that he couldn’t fix the Delorean on his own. Someone else would have to do the job. 

Suddenly, a stroke of genius hit him. His own face had stared back at him from the billboard. If his alternate self was as smart as he was, and if he could enlist his other self to repair the Delorean, then there would no longer be any time constraints. But he couldn’t just ask his other self to repair the Delorean, the consequences on the space-time continuum could be catastrophic . He needed to find a middleman. He needed to find this reality’s Marty.

When he shook himself out of his thoughts, he noticed that some were staring. Why? Well…his immediate assumption was that his ‘31 clothes stood out a bit too much. Everyone around him seemed to be wearing bright orange polos, matching attire. Once again, he felt unease, but he’d have to ask someone eventually.

He walked up to a random lady, someone in her mid-30s who was also wearing an orange polo. It was someone he didn’t recognize from his own timeline, but he hoped she maybe knew Marty. Clearing his throat, he said, “Hello, miss?”

Her eyes remained glued to him. 

“Uh…I was looking for-”

“You look familiar,” she mentioned, then glanced at his clothes. “Where’s your polo? Do you somehow not know that it’s polo day?”

“I’m…from out of town,” Doc answered, which felt odd. He lived here, after all, just not in this timeline.

“Oh all right, but try not to make yourself too noticeable. The police won’t be too pleased with that.”

The police?! This timeline was more messed up than he first assumed. “Well, I’m actually here to search for someone, I don’t know if you know him. Marty McFly, I think his name is.”

The lady paused, pursing her lips. She then nodded, a wide smile on her face. “Yes, he doesn’t live too far from here.” She then mentioned the address, the same address of the original Marty’s home. 

Doc was at least thankful for that. He wouldn’t have to search at all for the house since he already knew the way there. He was ready to head that way when he suddenly had a thought. This was a new timeline. Was he on as good of terms with the McFlys as his original timeline? Did the Delorean even exist here? Did he even know Lorraine and George McFly? He didn’t exactly want to raise any more questions than he had to, and dealing with them might lead to more trouble. However, he also didn’t want to raise suspicion. Maybe the universe would give him just a little more good luck, and he’d run into Marty along the way.

After walking almost the entire distance, he began to have his doubts. Another street, and he’d be there. He might have to come up with some explanation, even though he didn’t particularly want to. After all, what if Marty was inside? He didn’t want to wait all day. However, right when Doc was losing hope, he spotted a short teen entering the street. 

Although he wore the same polo shirt as everyone else, the shirt underneath appeared to be Marty’s usual checkered shirt, and the boy had longish brown hair. But, despite those similarities, a lot caught him off-guard. He wore thin black glasses, but not his usual sunglasses. There was no puffer vest on. He didn’t even have a walkman, something he had on him at all times. Was it really Marty? But then again, this timeline had already proven itself to be drastically different than his own. This had to be Marty.

Doc approached hesitantly, then said, “Marty?” 

The teen turned around. “Actually, it’s Citizen-” He began, then paused. “Aren’t you First Citizen Brown?”

Chapter Text

Martin couldn’t believe it. His hero was standing right in front of him. The man that had created this…this utopia , was right there. It wasn’t exactly the first time he had met Citizen Brown. They had briefly exchanged handshakes when Citizen Brown had presented him with an award for the Science Expo, hosted by Hill Valley High last year. Yet, no discussion had happened beyond that, and Martin had assumed he was just another citizen to Citizen Brown. 

But Citizen Brown remembered his name . That had to mean something, right?

“Uh…yes?” The man answered with hesitation. Doc confirmed that, to Martin, he was allegedly Citizen Brown.

Martin had to suppress a squeal. Once he regained his composure, he said, “Actually, sir, it’s Citizen Martin McFly. Nobody calls me Marty. I mean…I won’t complain if you choose to.”

Citizen Brown grimaced. Martin wasn’t stupid, he could see the discomfort, and he frowned. Did he say something wrong? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Citizen Brown waved his hand. “It’s fine. I was looking for you, in fact.”

Martin felt a smile work its way onto his face. Citizen Brown had been looking for him . It didn’t matter what the man asked of him, Martin was eager to accept. But, what if…

The smile quickly dissipated as his thoughts got the better of him. Citizen Brown hadn’t said the reason he was looking for him. What if he had done something wrong? No, that couldn’t be right… Citizen Brown sent the police to enforce the laws. Unless he had messed things up so badly that Citizen Brown didn’t have a choice…

By the time the other man spoke again, Martin could already feel himself trembling from anxiety. “Uh…Martin?”

Martin felt as if he was slammed back into his body. He blinked. “Yes?”

“Did you hear what I said?” Citizen Brown asked, but not with any hint of anger. Not the frustration or fury Martin would’ve expected. Instead, he gave him a soft gaze.

Martin gulped, then reluctantly shook his head. In a way, he was embarrassed. Here was the most important person in his life and he couldn’t even listen . No, he just let himself spiral, and now Citizen Brown had to put in more effort to re-explain things. 

“It’s okay,” Citizen Brown said softly, then continued. “I was saying that I believe you’ll be a good fit for an assignment. That is, if you are willing to take up the task?”

So his first mindset had been right! Citizen Brown was looking for him for a good thing, for him to help. And now, with that confirmation, Martin was perfectly content with whatever Citizen Brown had to ask - even if he was quite booked with homework and extracurriculars. But that didn’t matter. He was going to make it work.

“Anything,” Martin promised.

Citizen Brown smiled at him. A real smile, not the stoic expression Martin always saw in his posters. Not even that expressionless, cold face that had presented him with his award all those months ago. It almost made Citizen Brown seem…human. 

“I need you to pick up some supplies for me,” Citizen Brown began. “I know it’s a small task, but think of it as a…oh, test, if you will. To see if you’ll be a good fit for the next assignment. Do you have some paper and a writing instrument?” 

Without even a pause, Martin began fishing through his backpack. He pulled out a well-worn pencil and a notepad. “I do.”

He flipped to an empty page, handing it over to Citizen Brown. Citizen Brown took the notepad, scribbling some items to purchase. Martin couldn’t help but lean in, especially when Citizen Brown didn’t seem to try to stop him.

“I don’t expect you to pay for these on your own dime,” Citizen Brown began again as he wrote. “So report the cost to me after you succeed. I will pay you back every cent.”

Martin felt guilty at the thought. Citizen Brown had enlisted his help, which was an honor, it would be rude to take his money, wouldn’t it? But he also didn’t want to seem rude by refusing… “I’m not sure I can accept it.”

“Oh?”

“I mean…” Martin scrambled, feeling as if he heard judgement in the other’s voice. No, he probably should’ve shut up. Should’ve just accepted the offer. Yet now, he had to give the explanation. “You’re going to put the money to good use. I can bear losing a bit, it’s going to a greater cause.”

Citizen Brown winced. Then, he shook his head. “And so can I. Martin, you’re doing me a huge favor by picking up these supplies. The least I can do to show my appreciation is by paying you for it.”

Sure, Citizen Brown had a point, yet Martin still didn’t want to accept the cash. It would be selfish for him to take the money, not when Citizen Brown always had a greater use for it. But it would also be disrespectful for him to continue to refuse the offer, right? Not when Citizen Brown insisted. 

He could refuse it later.

“Okay,” Martin relented. “Thank you.”

“Meet me outside of the gates of Hill Valley tomorrow, just after sunrise.” Citizen Brown handed the notebook back to Martin, relieving him.

—

Martin laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Earlier, he had gone to the local parts store, buying the variety of items that Citizen Brown had requested. As expected, he was questioned about his purpose in buying the items, answering simply that he was running an errand for Citizen Brown. It was the truth, wasn’t it?

After he had given his answer, Martin had been allowed to bring the items home, which was…a task. The parts were heavy, and dragged him down. But, through sheer determination, he had gotten the bags home, though now dreaded bringing them over to Citizen Brown tomorrow.

At dinner, Martin hadn’t mentioned a word about his errand for Citizen Brown. His mother and father didn’t need to know. His mother would probably take the opportunity to drag Citizen Brown’s name through the mud, while his father would probably be eager to help Martin (and, as a consequence, want some of the praise). He was better off keeping his mouth shut.

He tried to ease into his pillow, feeling tense. Martin’s heart practically pounded out of his chest at the thought of delivering the items. What if he had somehow managed to grab the wrong item? Or it wasn’t to Citizen Brown’s standard? What if he just wasn’t good enough?

Martin shook his head. It wasn’t worth his time stressing about what if. He got the items as requested, all he had to do was drop them off. 

He closed his eyes, trying to allow himself to fall asleep. It was a fitful rest, but finally, his weary mind gave up and he gave in to sleep.

Chapter Text

The Delorean was just as he had left it: mangled and damn near unrepairable. Doc wasn’t exactly shocked that it was, though he was shocked that it was still there . With how pristine they kept the town, it was a miracle no one had come to tow away his car and use it for scrap metal.

While the original plan had not been to repair the time machine, he needed to do some refinement to that plan. Would his alternate self even know how time travel works? Did he even invent time travel in this timeline? It should be relatively easy to repair the Flux Capacitor now that he had built it once before, and he’d just simply leave the rest for his other self. It’d be as simple as repairing a car.

Which…wasn’t exactly simple.

This plan also granted him the ability to gain some trust with Marty, or rather, Martin, in this timeline. Of course, he was being extremely deceptive. He was not Citizen Brown, and already Doc was certain that this fact would upset Martin. But it would give Doc some more time to learn more about him, and hopefully the right words when he revealed the truth. As much as Doc would’ve wanted to keep the truth concealed, for him to employ the help of his alternate self, Martin needed to know. He also worried about how he might change the past, considering that the likely reason this timeline was this way was from a deviation in his own past. Most likely, Marty and himself had accidentally altered his past in 1931. And in that case, someone else might be needed to change his past.

But what position would that put Martin in?

There were two possibilities. One, the timeline would correct itself, and this alternate 1986’s Marty would be erased. Or, to make it more comforting, his current theory was sent back to his own timeline. The multiverse might allow this, which made him feel better about this mess. The second possibility was his own Marty not returning. By bringing this Marty back with him, a similar occurrence to what had happened to his original Marty might occur. This alternate Marty would replace the original, and rather he would eventually acquire the memories of the old.

Neither of these options were desirable. He could only hope that, whatever error had happened in the past, it would be fixable by himself.

—

Early that morning, Doc couldn’t help but continually check his watch. The time slowly ticked by as he waited for 8 a.m. Hopefully, this timeline’s Marty wasn’t as late as his. 

Fortunately, at 8 a.m. sharp, the gates opened, and out of them came Martin, right on time. Doc noted that as another distinct difference, only one of many. He raced over, grabbing a few of the bags from Martin. 

“I think I got everything,” Martin said, gasping for air. The stuff had not been light, Doc had already realized that upon carrying some of the bags. Martin was looking at the items contained within the bag, lost in intense thought. Immediately, he could assume that Martin wanted to know what exactly the supplies were going to be used for, but Doc didn’t know how to explain the whole time travel thing yet. All he could do was hope that Martin wouldn’t ask.

Then, Martin noticed the other elephant in the room. The destroyed car.

“What’s that doing all the way out here? Is this yours?” Martin questioned, pointing right at it.

Doc glanced, briefly, before looking back at Martin. “That’s…” He paused, wondering about how much information to give away. Should he tell him? “It’s the project I’m working on.”

“Repairing a car?”

“Yes, exactly that!” Doc attempted to shift the conversation off of the time machine. He approached the Delorean, taking the bags of parts with him. “Let’s just drop the parts off by the car, and then I’ll be able to start working on it.”

Martin followed, asking no further questions. Either shifting the topic worked, or Martin was just this deeply conditioned to not question him. This fact troubled Doc. Was every person in Hill Valley this brainwashed? He couldn’t imagine being the person that allowed this to happen, regardless of what part of his past had been changed. 

Once he was a few feet away from the Delorean, Doc dropped the bags of parts on the grass, Martin following suit. “There, that’s fine. I appreciate your help, Marty.”

Martin opened his mouth, likely once again to correct him, but this time restrained himself. “I’m happy to.” Doc then noticed the puzzlement on his face. 

Was Martin finally catching on that something was up?

Maybe Doc could use this to his benefit, but it also might be too soon. He didn’t even know how to phrase it, or if he even could . 

“Yes, well, I’ll probably need your-” Doc began, but Martin wasn’t looking at him. Probably wasn’t even listening. Instead, his eyes were on the car. Specifically, the Flux Capacitor, which fizzled some light out of it. It definitely stood out compared to the rest of the parts, and was a distinguishing feature of the time machine. “Are you even listening?”

No response.

“Martin?”

“Who are you?” Martin finally asked. Doc had been correct. Martin was catching on.

“I’m-” Doc paused. “Citizen Brown. I thought I already told you that?” 

Once again, Martin was looking at him, not at the Delorean. His eyes were wide, and he took a step back. Doc realized that, maybe, telling the truth was the only way to get this situation under control. “I’m Citizen Brown. I told you that, correct?”

Martin gave a slow nod.

“Yes, well I am him. That is partially the truth, but of course not the whole truth. I’m from a different timeline, Martin. I built a time machine out of a Delorean, altered the past on accident, and created this new reality.”

Instead of looking afraid, like he had before, Martin instead looked confused. He rested his chin against his hand, then brushed it through his hair after a few moments. “You’re…a time traveler?”

“I am,” Doc confirmed. He hoped, maybe, this would be easy. Maybe Martin would just believe it rather than pointing out how unlikely the scenario was. 

Of course, he was wrong.

“That makes no sense! Time travel isn’t possible, the Universe wouldn’t allow it!” Martin rambled, his face growing red with anger. 

Doc assumed Martin thought a joke was being played on him, which was something Doc could relate to. When his timeline’s Marty told him that he was a time traveler, he thought he was being played for a fool, but of course a little extra convincing changed his mind. “What can I do to prove it to you?”

Martin paused in his ramblings. “What?”

“What can I do to prove it to you?” Doc repeated, awaiting Martin’s response.

There was silence. Clearly, Martin was trying to think of a good answer to that, of what might convince him that Doc really was a time traveler. “I don’t really know. Maybe, a photograph of you long in the past or even in the future?” 

Luckily, Doc had just that. His photo had been taken in 1885, with his own Marty. That alone should be enough to convince this timeline’s Marty, though Doc hoped it wouldn’t spook him. At least, not spook him too much. “I do actually have something fitting that description.”

Quickly, he went back into the Delorean. Still a mess. He threw stuff around, trying to find the photo. It took him a minute or two, but he finally found it underneath the seat. Pulling it out, he took a glance at it then frowned in disappointment. 

The photo was already being altered. Marty wasn’t in it; he was gone. Doc’s image was still fully intact, but he knew that, soon enough, it would disappear. The time machine didn’t exist, therefore the photo would never be taken.

He was once again reminded of how long he had to fix this. 

Rushing over to Martin, Doc showed him the image. “See, right here? How would I have ever taken this photo in 1885 if I wasn’t even born yet?”

“I don’t know.” Martin paused, intensely looking at it and only ending up more confused. “Perhaps it was edited to appear that way? You know, it’s easy to take a black-and-white image, put up a fake background, and wear Western clothing. They do it in movies all the time,” Martin answered with a shrug, still having quite a bit of doubt.

Doc was getting an odd sense of deja vu, along with a tad bit of annoyance. Didn’t he just get the proof Martin had asked for? How was it not enough? “Why would I even carry this around? Do you think I just go around pretending to be a time traveler?”

“I hardly know you. I don’t know what you enjoy doing in your free time.”

Doc smacked a hand to his forehead. Of course one of the only things this timeline’s Marty and his had in common was their stubbornness. “Well, if that isn’t enough to convince you, I honestly don’t know what will. This timeline is so different that I’m not sure I know any startling facts about you. At least, enough to snap you into realizing that I’m from an alternate timeline.” Despite these words, Doc didn’t plan on giving up quite yet. Giving up wasn’t an option, but he was running out of ideas. It would be so easy if the Delorean was in working order.

Then, it hit him. Maybe, just maybe, his idea would work…

“Have you happened to hear about a man named Carl Sagan?”

“The astronomer?”

Doc sighed, remembering the exact reason he chose the alias. “No, a different Carl Sagan. One arrested in 1931 for being a possible suspect in the burning of a Speakeasy.” All he could do was hope that either Martin had a profuse knowledge on the history of Hill Valley, or was willing to sort through some newspapers.

“I think I do vaguely recall that story, but I still don’t know who you’re talking about.” Martin went silent, resting a hand on his chin. Doc awaited a further comment anxiously. Then, “But there might be something in the Hill Valley library about it. It’s practically all newspapers in there.”

Thankfully, it seemed as if Martin would take a look. Perhaps this situation wasn’t as hopeless as it appeared, and Doc would have plenty of time to repair the time machine while Martin was gone, at least the parts that urgently needed the repairs. “Then, please, look for someone named Carl Sagan in 1931. There should be photographs in there. You’ll know right when you see a photo that I’m telling the truth.” At this point, Doc was practically begging. The only way to get back home to his own timeline was with this alternate Marty. Without him, the odds of repairing this messed up timeline seemed highly unlikely. Most likely, Doc would end up erased, and that would be that.

With some hesitation, Martin nodded. “I guess I can check. But you know, after this, I’m not guaranteeing I’ll come back if I don’t find that proof, so it better be good.” 

Doc couldn’t exactly blame him. When he had first learned time travel was a reality, he had been in denial, believing a practical joke was played on him. He must sound mad as a hatter… “I understand.”

Martin then turned and went back up to the gates, ready to leave. No ‘goodbyes’ or other remarks, except for dead silence. Doc couldn’t help but feel a bit disheartened, however was confident that things would work out in his favor. If not, that simply meant he’d need another plan.

The citizens of Hill Valley needed the timeline to be fixed. Hell, his best friend needed the timeline to be fixed. Which meant, even if he spent the rest of his days looking for a solution, he would find one and fix the mess he had created.

He sighed, watching the gates shut behind Martin. Turning back to the DeLorean, he got straight to work on fixing the Flux Capacitor.

Chapter Text

Martin didn’t turn back as the gates of Hill Valley closed behind him.

Time travel, huh? 

Even with the photo, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. There was no possible way that time travel existed. It defied all logic, especially with the fact that, according to this supposed ‘time traveler’, his reality was created with a mistake in the past.

Wouldn’t that create some kind of paradox? 

The thought of time travel alone gave him a headache, but he persisted anyway to the library. Even with his doubts, Martin couldn’t help but have some trust in the man’s words. Along with that, he was curious. If the man was telling the truth, then that meant he knew about one of the greatest inventions in history - something no one ever thought was possible.

The front steps of the library coldly greeted him. Like the other buildings, the library was a marble white, blending into the world around it. Inside, there were rows upon rows of newspapers, which Martin was used to. But based upon accounts of others, this was unusual for a library. Hill Valley was unique in that way.

While he entered, he gave a brief wave to the librarian, then made his way over to the newspapers. It was organized based on the year, which meant that all he had to do was find 1931, then begin looking through those.

It wasn’t hard to find the year, but Martin’s jaw dropped at the amount of newspapers for 1931 alone. It would take him forever just to get through them! And, of course, the supposed ‘time traveler’ couldn’t give a more exact date. That meant that he’d have to go through all these newspapers just to find the supposed evidence. For a second, he pondered how much he really believed that “time traveler’s” story.

He decided that he believed the man quite a bit. 

That, or he just couldn’t avoid the pull of a time machine.

Martin hadn’t decided yet.

So, thus began the hours of digging through newspaper articles. Each paper had to be inspected, each headline read, and each photo glanced at. There was quite a bit of garbage, and quickly Martin grew bored. Who even bothered to read some of these newspaper articles? Half of the articles were just filler. It wasn’t like anything major happened in 1931 thus far.

Until he reached the month of June.

On one of the front pages was the article about the speakeasy fire, and the accused man that committed the arson: Carl Sagan. he exact man who the “time traveler” had claimed to be. But that didn’t prove anything, did it? Perhaps the man was just caught up on his history.

Then, Martin saw the image.

It looked exactly like the time traveler.

That couldn’t be right. That couldn’t be real.

As much as he had been allured by the thought of a time machine, he hadn’t thought this man was serious about actually making one. What about the dangers of it? Like…well, this apparent reality that was created.

His reality that was created.

Immediately, Martin dropped the newspaper and ran straight for the door, but was halted before he could leave. “Sir, put those newspapers back where you found them or it’s a demerit!” The librarian shouted. 

“Oh, sorry, ma’am,” Martin responded sheepishly, quickly returning over to the pile of newspapers. As shocked as he was, and desperate for answers, it wasn’t enough to risk a demerit. He hadn’t got one yet, and today certainly wasn’t going to be that day, even if time travel existed.

Martin quickly put the newspapers back, ensuring that each and every newspaper was how it was before. That meant, even with moving quickly, it still took him plenty of time. Each paper had to be sorted in chronological order, which was tedious. Once again, he wondered why this Carl Sagan guy hadn’t given him an exact date…

After he finished fixing the newspapers, Martin once again raced for the door. “No running!” The librarian shouted. Martin groaned, slowing to a walking pace as he left the library. Then, he went right back to the gates, breaking back into a run. 

Pressing his hand to the scanner, the gates opened wide. Briefly, he took a glance out, noticing the wrecked car was still there, but he didn’t see Carl Sagan (was that even his real name?). His assumption was that the man was working on the car, therefore hidden behind it. But that wasn’t the only person he was looking for. He was ensuring he didn’t happen to bump into his ex-girlfriend, Jennifer Parker.

And, luckily, she didn’t seem to be around.

He raced up to the car after checking his surroundings. “Uh…Hello? Are you there…er, Carl Sagan? Or whatever your name is?” He poked his head around the side of the car and spotted the time traveler quickly move out of the car, managing to hit his head in the process.

Martin cringed, sympathetic, however the other just brushed it off. “Martin! You’re back! My assumption is that you found the newspaper article?”

“Uh, yes?” Martin already noticed the enthusiasm on the man’s face. 

“Then I take it that you now believe I am a time traveler?”

As much as Martin wanted to deny it, considering he was certain time travel defied all logic and probably numerous laws of nature, the proof had been right there. Unless somehow this man managed to replicate a paper from the 1930s, copy a plausible story, and stick it into the library’s collection without the librarian noticing (which seemed even more implausible than time travel), time travel was real. And this man was a time traveler. “I can’t exactly deny it.”

“Great! Then I can continue. As I already told you-”

“Wait, hold on a second,” Martin interrupted. He still had a rather important question, and that was finding out this man’s identity. “What’s your name? You know, your actual name?”

“Hm? Oh, well I suppose you would call me Citizen Brown, but in my timeline, I go by Doc,” the man answered.

This time travel stuff still made Martin’s brain hurt.

“Doc? As in ‘doctor’?” 

Doc nodded. 

“But you’re not a doctor!” Martin paused. Well, Citizen Brown wasn’t a doctor in this timeline, and if this man was the alternate Citizen Brown… How different could these two timelines possibly be?

“Well, I do have a Ph.D. in my timeline, so I am Doctor Emmett Brown.”

“Oh…I apologize.” For a moment, Martin worried that he might’ve offended Doc, but there was no indication of that on his face. Rather, Doc looked sympathetic. At least he understood how confusing this all was… “Continue, then.”

“As I was saying, I’m from a different timeline. I traveled back to 1931 with my timeline’s Martin, and accidentally altered the timeline then. Therefore, to fix this present timeline, I need to repair the time machine and go back,” Doc said.

“Wait…wait wait wait. So you’re saying there’s an alternate me somewhere?” Martin couldn’t help but ask. What was his alternate self like? Were they similar? Or vastly different, like Citizen Brown and Doc?

Doc frowned, lightly tossing a wrench near a pile of tools on the grass. “He was here. However, when I woke up after crashing into the billboard, he was gone.”

“Where did he go?” Martin asked. 

“It seems like the timeline corrected itself. The timeline erased him before it erased anything else, which will eventually happen to myself and the Delorean if the mistake is not corrected in time.”

Martin tilted his head, the words taking a moment to sink in. So his alternate self had been ‘erased’, which already gave him a bad gut feeling, but the Delorean and Doc remained? How did that make any sense? “So…the timeline erased my alternate self before anything else? Why?”

There was silence for a moment before Doc answered. Just by looking at the puzzlement on his face, Martin assumed Doc didn’t have a complete answer himself. “The universe is complicated, and even though I’ve worked with time travel for years, it’s still experimental. Therefore, I don’t really know. However, my current theory is that the timeline works backwards . You’re considerably younger than I am, which means that the timeline corrected for you quicker than it did for me,” Doc said with a shrug. 

Martin eyed the Delorean. How old was the time machine? Wouldn’t the time stream correct that mistake first? “What about the car?”

“That-” Doc looked at the Delorean. “Does somewhat throw a wrench in my theory.” With a smirk, he picked up a different wrench, held it briefly in reference to his joke, then went back to working on the time machine.

“So you’re essentially saying that you don’t know,” Martin said bluntly. Even with Doc’s words, the man had spoken so confidently about his theory, a theory that Martin couldn’t agree with. The theory had so many holes in it, not explaining truly why his alternate self was gone, the Delorean remained, and Doc was untouched.

“Precisely, Martin.” Doc paused momentarily as he tightened a bolt. “The time stream is endlessly confusing. In my own timeline, the time stream seemingly never corrected its own mistake with a Marty from an alternate 1985. His timeline was completely different, but instead of being erased, he remained. Although confusing, I am happy with the result.”

Probably for the millionth time today, Martin was confused. “But…shouldn’t it correct itself? Shouldn’t that one be erased and replaced, considering that Martin was erased upon returning to my 1986?” 

“Most likely. As I have stated, I don't really know. I would need further testing to truly understand how time travel works, and why , however that would be far too dangerous to even conduct. But what I do know is that the time bubble will likely pop at some point, taking the Delorean and I with it, just like it did for Marty,” Doc answered. 

Martin couldn’t help but shiver at the thought. Did being erased hurt? Had it hurt his alternate self? He suddenly felt compelled to help Doc, not wanting the same fate to befall him if it did hurt. “Then…I’m willing to help you correct the timeline. What do you need me to do?” Martin didn’t even give Doc a second to accept his help. He was determined to assist the scientist in any way he could.

“Actually, I do have a task for you,” Doc answered, stopping his work for a moment to look at Martin. “I cannot finish the Delorean on my own, but I should be able to finish the time travel components. I need you to get my alternate self to agree to finish the task, or else it’ll never be completed.” 

Martin frowned. As he had already stated, Citizen Brown wasn’t a doctor, nor was he even aware of him having a PhD. A degree? Most likely, Citizen Brown was brilliant. But did he have the knowledge to repair a car? “I…don’t know, Doc. I don’t think your alternate self has any knowledge on fixing anything, except maybe societal issues…”

Martin noticed Doc cringe before he spoke. “Then he can find someone who can. Martin, that is exactly what I need you to do. That is how you can help me.” 

For a second, Martin hesitated. Then, he nodded. What was the worst that could happen? Of course, this meant that he’d need an appointment to see Citizen Brown, which meant months of waiting. Unless he could somehow speed up that process, but the only way he could think of was something he couldn’t consider.

Racking up a bunch of demerits.

The thought alone made him queasy. No, there had to be another way about it.

Before he could say anything else to Doc, Martin suddenly heard the gates open. Likely just people coming out to survey the area and pick up trash. He was about to shrug it off until he remembered that his ex was a part of that.

Would she be there?

With hesitation, Martin turned around. It wasn’t hard to recognize the bright highlights. Great, his day was about to get a lot more miserable. He quickly hid behind the Delorean, Doc giving him a quizzical look.

“Is something wrong, Martin?” Doc asked, tilting his head.

“Er…no.” Martin didn’t exactly want to tell this stranger about personal issues, like his ex-girlfriend Jennifer Parker.

“Something is wrong,” Doc said with certainty. “You know you can tell me what it is.”

Before Martin could speak, a female voice called over to Doc. “You’re still here with your car?” Jennifer.

And, as usual, she was upset about something.

“It’s a bit broken,” Doc said, stating the obvious. “I can’t exactly go anywhere till I fix it.”

Footsteps approaching.

Doc backing away.

Martin didn’t like where this was going.

“Someone is going to get you to move-” Jennifer began, then came around the car. Martin shrunk up against the car.

“ Martin?! ” 

“Oh…hey, Jennifer.”

Chapter Text

Doc had already known that there was some tension between this timeline’s Jennifer Parker and Martin McFly. What had happened between the two, he couldn’t figure out yet, but most certainly the two were not ‘lovebirds’ like they were back home.

At least, not in the present moment.

And that thought managed to give him a brief moment of sadness. Like any good friend or fatherly mentor, he wanted his friend to be happy. In his timeline, he knew that Jennifer was good for Marty, and managed to bring that happiness. In this timeline, however, he wasn’t exactly sure he could say the same.

Jennifer crossed her arms, giving Martin a glare. “I’m not exactly sure what you’re doing out here…” She muttered.

“Not like it’s any of your business,” Martin responded, rising to his feet. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

Doc hadn’t heard Martin ever speak that bitterly, except maybe when referring to Needles and his friends. But speaking this way to Jennifer? Even when they argued, Marty never displayed absolute hatred for her. 

“You think I really care about picking up some trash? You know I’m only here to get out of that crappy town,” Jennifer replied, a noticeable look of disgust on her face as she spoke. 

Martin jabbed a finger in her direction. “You only feel that way due to seeing the outside’s polluted ideas!” The response seemed automatic. Once again, Doc grew uneasy. With just speaking to Martin, it was clear that there was some intense brainwashing happening, and one of the only people he met that didn’t display those signs was Jennifer. Of course, he hadn’t exactly met that many people in this timeline, but that didn’t make this observation any less concerning.

“At least I’d have the freedom to leave. To make a life of my own.” Jennifer paused, then pushed Martin’s still-pointing-hand down. “I pity you, McFly, but not enough to tolerate this. This,” now Jennifer was pointing at Martin, “is why I broke up with you.”

With that, Jennifer turned and left, seemingly having enough. Doc sighed in momentary relief. At least he wasn’t going to need to get involved. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to need to help his friend out, regardless of whether he perhaps had some gut feeling that Jennifer was right. That something was seriously off.  

Already, Martin had slid to the ground, resting up against the Delorean. He appeared…defeated, slouching and resting his arms against the ground. “Martin?” Doc questioned, awaiting a response.

“Not now.”

For a moment, Doc wondered whether he should persist and ignore Martin’s words, or to leave him alone. Unfortunately, this timeline was so different that he didn’t know what might help. He truly didn’t know this Marty, or what he needed. He decided to go the route of listening to Martin, but comfortingly laid a hand on Martin’s shoulder, to remind him that he was still here if Martin needed him. Briefly, Martin looked up, his eyes watery, but instead of responding, he pushed Doc’s hand away. “Just continue working on your time machine,” he mumbled.

Doc sighed, but went back into the interior of the Delorean. Maybe it would be for the best if he just finished the task and fixed the timeline. He grabbed a screwdriver, placing screws into the Flux Capacitor to fix a few loose pieces of metal. As he worked, he would occasionally glance outside, making sure Martin was still there and doing okay. Or, well, as ‘okay’ as he could be after the confrontation with his ex-girlfriend. For a while, Martin just had his head buried and hidden. Unfortunately, Doc’s assumption was that his friend was crying, and the thought of him not doing anything to help his friend made him…well, feel upset and some mild discomfort. He should be doing something surely, but he didn’t know what he could do.

After a while, Doc couldn’t stand doing nothing for any longer. He threw down the current tool that he was using, which was another wrench, and got out of the Delorean. Martin didn’t even look up, even though he made quite a bit of noise exiting the vehicle.

Doc stood above Martin, glancing down at him. “Martin?” No response. Gently, Doc bent down and shook the teen’s shoulders. “Martin?” He repeated.

“What?” Martin mumbled, lifting his head. His eyes were tinted red, tears stained on his cheeks. “I thought I made it clear that I wanted to be left alone.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll be fine.”

Doc frowned. While Martin may be fine, it would probably be a while. And if the process could be accelerated in some way by his help, Doc, of course, wanted to be there. “You will be fine eventually, I’m sure, but right now you’re not. If you need to talk about it, I’m here.”

“Look, I hardly know you,” Martin said, bluntly. “Whatever friendship you had with my alternate self is irrelevant here. Besides,” he paused, wiping some of the tears off his cheeks. “I already said that I’ll be fine. Shouldn’t you be finishing your project anyways?”

Doc glanced briefly at the Delorean. While the answer was probably yes, he couldn’t leave his friend - or, alternate version of his friend? - in emotional agony. Hell, he somewhat felt a similar pain, being away from Clara and the boys and not knowing if he’d get them back, and he didn’t want to leave Martin feeling the same.

That thought gave him an idea.

If Doc was open about his personal feelings, then maybe Martin would feel more comfortable, not as vulnerable. Or, it would backfire spectacularly and he would be left in quite an awkward situation.

What the hell?

Doc sat down beside Martin. “You know, I can somewhat understand how you feel.”

“You don’t.”

“You are right in some regard. I don’t understand exactly how you feel. But I can understand being upset. My wife is back in the late 1800s, and I do not know whether I will see her again. Since my timeline has been…disrupted, not finishing the time machine means I might not be able to go back. I may never meet her if the time machine doesn’t exist.”

Martin’s frown grew. “I’m sorry.”

Doc glanced at Martin. He frowned as well. “I don’t want you feeling sorry about that. I want you to understand that you can tell me how you’re feeling. I just did, after all.”

Once again, Martin seemed to grow defensive, looking away from Doc. “It’ll help, I assure you,” Doc added.

“Fine.” Martin finally opened up to Doc, and of course, that meant he dumped all of his relationship issues onto him, which Doc was okay with. It was his friend, and he was here to listen. Martin told him about how Jennifer and himself even got into a relationship. Jennifer had moved into his class in the ninth grade, and had been the only person that refused to pick on him - the only person that listened to him, in fact. They had been friends before Martin had asked her out later on, and had hope that things would work out between them. But even Martin couldn’t pin down Jennifer’s free spirit, the taste of the outside world that made her resistant to conforming. Finally, Jennifer had enough of Martin, and dumped him. 

“You encouraged her to enroll in this ‘Citizen Plus’ program?” Doc questioned. 

Martin gulped, then reluctantly nodded. “That was the biggest mistake of my life,” he admitted. “She didn’t want to change, I should’ve known that. I just thought…I thought I was doing the right thing, to help her to stay out of trouble.”

He sighed, shifting where he sat. “I kinda ignored her after. Seeing her at all just hurt too much. And seeing her now…” He paused, quickly wiping his face with his arm.

“Brought those memories back?” Doc finished. Martin nodded. “I’m sorry, Martin.”

Martin rose to his feet unexpectedly. Doc, briefly, wondered if he was about to run off. Perhaps it was a sudden regret at spilling out his feelings? But then, Martin said, “Are you getting up anytime soon? Don’t we have a timeline to fix?” 

While Doc doubted Martin felt better than quickly, he assumed his friend’s mood had slightly improved. That, or Martin just wanted to once again suppress his feelings by focusing on the time machine. But, it was probably for the best to fix the timeline. Fixing the timeline meant that this compromised timeline would return to, in his opinion, a better one. He rose with a nod. “Yes, we do.”

Martin beamed a smile at him, which looked noticeably odd considering signs of tears were still there, but Doc didn’t linger on it. Instead, he continued speaking. “I still require the assistance of my other self to complete the Delorean. The Flux Capacitor should be fixed in no time, which means that repairs shouldn’t be as difficult for him. All he’ll have to do is make sure the Delorean can reach 88 miles per hour and safely transport those within the car.”

“Speaking of that,” Martin said as he gestured to the time machine. “You never did tell me how this works, though I’m guessing it has to do with time travel occurring at 88 miles per hour?”

“Yes, that’s correct. That speed is required for the Flux Capacitor to activate, creating a time displacement field around the car and its inhabitants. But first, you must set a date to travel to.” Doc gestured for Martin to follow him to the front of the car, where he sat in the front seat.

“This is your dashboard,” Doc continued, gesturing to the time circuits and its associated keypad. “Here, you place what date you want to travel to, which will show up above ‘destination time’. Underneath that is your present time, and underneath that is your last time departed. Essentially, that’s all you really need to know about it in order to utilize the car. How it actually works…well, that’s a lot more complicated.”

Martin was looking at the machine in awe. Of course, Doc could understand this reaction. For that one week in 1955, he couldn’t help but want to know everything about the Delorean. It was absolutely remarkable technology, but it was one of those devices that he had to keep a secret. Just being in this timeline was a reminder of why, although time travel was his greatest invention, it was too dangerous for others to know about it. While he was previously going to destroy the Delorean and all other parts associated with time travel, he did have to give his invention some credit. It had allowed many positive events to unfold, like Marty’s family living a happier life and him meeting Clara. 

“I’m assuming you don’t have any blueprints for this ‘Flux Capacitor’?” Martin questioned.

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t be giving them to anybody,” Doc replied, slight sternness in his voice. Certainly, he didn’t want anyone attempting to replicate his work, or for those blueprints to fall in the wrong hands. Even if those blueprints would be going to his best friend, Marty. 

Martin frowned in disappointment. “I guess I understand. I suppose time travel is dangerous, especially if this timeline was created as a result.”

Doc tilted his head. That was the first acknowledgement from Martin that, maybe, things would be better if the timeline was fixed. Sure, Martin had already agreed to help, but it didn’t seem to be from a place of fixing the errors of this timeline. Rather, it had been from apparent concern, perhaps for Doc’s own wellbeing. Did Martin really enjoy life here?

Doc pushed that thought away. As much as he wanted to know more about this specific timeline, he knew that he still had to get home. “Speaking of fixing this timeline, are you still up to the task of getting my alternate self to fix the rest of the Delorean?”

Martin swiftly nodded. “I can’t guarantee it’ll be quick. He’s…very busy.”

“This is a time machine. As long as you’re okay with waiting, it’ll be no problem with how long it takes,” Doc assured him. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too long, not exactly wanting to waste the teen’s time.

“Then, I suppose I can do that. I ought to get going, before the wait time is three years!” Martin replied, heading to the gates.

Doc paused. Surely Martin was joking? But there was no indication of that on his face. Instead, he seemed serious. 

“See you soon!” Martin called with a wave, not giving Doc a moment to ask for clarification.

Awkwardly, Doc waved back. “Goodbye, Martin.”

Chapter Text

Martin approached the front entrance to the courthouse, where all important business was conducted. There were many government offices inside, including Citizen Brown’s. All he’d have to do is go inside, get an appointment, and wait.

And he was sure he’d be waiting a long, long time.

He climbed up the marble-white steps and gently pushed open the door. Inside was a flurry of people, all anxiously running from one place to the next. Alongside the door were chairs, a few sitting down in them, but most left empty.

Martin went up to the desk, the secretary quickly spinning around to him. “Hello, may I help you?” She said in a kind, yet anxious, voice.

“Uh…yes? I’d like an appointment with Citizen Brown, please,” Martin responded. 

“An appointment? Of course.” The secretary went to look through her papers, trying to find an open date. “Let’s see…The next open appointment will be November 5th, 1988.”

Martin groaned. He wasn’t going to be able to see Citizen Brown for over two years. While it was true that there was a time machine, that didn’t mean that Citizen Brown was going to be able to fix it, and besides, wouldn’t he still witness Doc fading from existence? Would the car fade from existence? Earlier, he hadn’t considered the implications of waiting years to speak to Citizen Brown, but now he was. And he wondered if a date two years in advance would suffice to fix the timeline. “Are you sure there isn’t anything earlier? ”

“Young man, Citizen Brown is a very busy individual. I’m afraid his schedule is full until that date,” the secretary replied.

With hesitation, Martin responded with, “I guess I’ll take that appointment.”

“And what name can I put here for you, citizen?”

“Citizen Martin McFly.”

She scribbled the name down. Martin turned to leave just as she shouted, “Next!” 

As he walked out, he noticed that a line had formed. Martin swung the doors open, quick to leave in abject disappointment. A whole two years. That thought still hung heavy on him. He would already be attending college by then, which meant that he’d be staying local. Unless he managed to get an appointment sooner, but that would be unlikely. Appointments for Citizen Brown rarely opened up. He’d have to resort to an option he never wanted to try in the first place.

Martin headed back to Doc, sure that was the only person he could dump this news on. No one else would understand. It wasn’t like he could just go around telling people that he was helping Citizen Brown’s alternate self rebuild a time machine. He’d probably be thrown into a Citizen Plus facility in a heartbeat to fix his brain. The thought alone caused him to shiver.

It wasn’t as if Martin was unaware of the twisted ways Citizen Brown retained control over his citizens. The cameras littered everywhere, the strict rules, the intense and deliberate propaganda… Martin wasn’t stupid. However, these thoughts also conflicted with others, the values he had been raised with since he was a kid. It was sometimes hard to discern which thoughts were his own, and which were the thoughts spoonfed to him under Citizen Brown’s leadership.

Sometimes, it was just easier to fit in.

Even then, sometimes he didn’t fit in. It seemed like a majority of citizens were not content in their role, and quite a few didn’t care if everyone knew it. People like Jennifer Parker, the woman of his dreams that he had lost.

For a second, he felt immense frustration. His thinking wouldn’t have changed if it wasn’t for this mysterious time traveler appearing, revealing to him that the world could be so much better. That his life might be better. He would’ve been content with what he had, not longing for something more, longing for something that didn’t truly belong to him.

He opened the gates, noticing the few stares he received from other citizens and even the cops. Did they know how often he was leaving? Were they suspicious? He hoped not, or that would make his job a lot more difficult.

The gates slammed shut behind Martin as he walked into the grassy field. Just a few yards ahead, the Delorean laid, just as he had left it. Doc was clear in view, this time holding a pair of pliers.

“Uh…how’s the time machine?” Martin asked, awkwardly, noticing that the other hadn’t seen him appear. 

Doc jumped, turning around to look at him. He gave a lopsided smile. “The repairs to the time mechanisms should be done by tomorrow morning. After that, all that would need fixing is the actual car, which I can begin but I am certain my alternate self will need to complete it.”

Awkwardly, Martin rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well…I got an appointment. On November 5th, 1988.” He managed a hint of a forced smile.

Doc’s eyes widened. “ Two years from now?! Martin, I don’t want you waiting that long, even if this is a time machine!”

Martin feared that he didn’t have a choice. The secretary was right, Citizen Brown was a very busy person, and Martin was just one citizen out of many. He had to wait his turn, even if this was a Universe-level problem. “I don’t have a choice, Citizen - er, Doc. Your alternate self is busy reforming citizens, and prioritizing those that need his attention most. Not like I can inform the secretary that I need to talk to him about a time machine, you know.” 

Doc threw the pliers aside. “I understand that, but I don’t exactly want you wasting two years of your life. That’s not even mentioning the possible consequences of the Delorean needing to wait this long. Time…is finicky. Delicate. Are you sure there’s no other way to get a faster meeting?”

Martin hesitated. Once again, he was reminded that there was , but that relied on him being willing to rack up demerits. The thought made him sick to his stomach. “I mean-” He stopped, then shook his head.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to keep Doc from pressing further. “There is, isn’t there, Martin?”

Biting his lip, Martin forced himself to shake his head once again.

“Martin,” Doc said, sternly. “I know that I led you to believe that the wait time was irrelevant to solving this universal issue, but if there is a quicker solution, it is most preferable. By waiting, we run a higher risk of a paradox or further altering the space-time continuum!” He sighed, suddenly looking more annoyed than terrified. “Or, of getting my car towed…”

That was enough for Martin to blurt out his thoughts. He had no choice, did he? Frankly, he was more terrified of some world-ending catastrophe occurring over not telling the truth. But could he say the same about actually going through with the plan? “Fine, fine. Your alternate self spends a lot of his time speaking to troublemakers. You know, the ones that break the rules. The ones who rack up a bunch of…” He paused, hesitating to say the word. With disgust, he finished his sentence. “Demerits.”

“And what exactly qualifies as being a ‘troublemaker’ here?”

“Cursing, drinking, dressing improperly, causing a scene, being disruptive, public displays of affection…Those sorts of things.” Saying it aloud, Martin realized how odd it really was. Why were these things considered enough to be sent away for? 

He pushed the thought away.

Citizen Brown had a good reason to call these things demerit-worthy. Maybe this ‘alternate’ Citizen Brown was a bad influence.

“That’s it?” Doc frowned, as if disappointed. 

Martin scowled. These things were not little matters, and following the rules was what made their society great. Without it, they’d be like the rest of the outside world. “I’m being serious. Besides, this plan wouldn’t work . Sure, I may be able to speak to Citizen Brown directly, but that also includes being sent to a Citizen Plus facility to be reformed.” He paused, then added, “And we don’t even know if your alternate self will believe me.”

For a second, the Doc looked stumped. Martin wondered if he was trying to come up with a better plan, a way to persuade his other self (someone Martin was sure was even more stubborn than he was) that time travel was real. Then, Doc said, “I suppose you’re going to have to do a little convincing.”

Martin was confused. How?! He didn’t exactly have the means to do that. He hardly knew anything about the time machine to begin with! “Look, I don’t know if you just happened to forget, but I know nothing about this! I’m not the person who time traveled with you just a few days ago!”

“Yes, but you can pretend to be!” Doc responded enthusiastically, going inside the Delorean to look through the rubble. “Here.” Doc handed Martin some clothes. “Fortunately, your alternate self always has to change immediately upon returning to his time.”

Hesitating, Martin grabbed the outfit. A plain, white shirt and a brown vest. Wasn’t anything remarkable… “I thought I already told you that I don’t know anything about this alternate me?” He protested.

“You don’t need to. Put the clothes on. I’ll give you a few bits of information, enough to hopefully carry on a conversation with my alternate self, and by simply going in and acting erratically should be enough to accomplish this,” Doc answered. 

“Are you sure that’ll be enough?” Martin replied as he took off his reddish-orange sweater vest, the one he usually wore when there was no specific dress code for the day. Then, he began taking off his button-up shirt, then, finally, pulling off his red t-shirt. 

“No, I’m not sure at all.” Even with this doubt, the Doc still had a slight smile on his face.

Martin sighed as he slid on the shirt. Guess it was the only plan they had, unless one of them came up with something better. But he still felt sick. The plan involved him racking up demerits and lying to Citizen Brown’s face. “I’m not even sure I can go through with this plan,” he continued to protest.

“Martin, we have to. For the sake of the space-time continuum and fixing this, frankly, horrid nightmarish timeline created.” Doc said. “Now, hurry with the vest. If this doesn’t work, we need all the time we can get for a new plan.”

Chapter Text

Martin scratched at the uncomfortable fabric, the rim of the white shirt itching at his neck. He still wasn’t too confident in this plan. Doc had promised that it would work out in the end, that he’d convince Citizen Brown that he really was a time traveler, lost and looking for help. But Martin knew Citizen Brown, Doc did not. 

Martin placed his palm to the gate’s sensor. There was a click! , then the gates cranked open. Even if he was a time traveler, as long as he shared the same handprints as this timeline’s Martin McFly, it would still work. Therefore, the plan would still work.

It had to work.

Already, he noticed the heated stares of the citizens, probably wondering what in the world he was wearing. If Martin was them, he’d be wondering the same thing, too. He did look rather odd. Now, he needed to act odd.

Martin wandered in, shoving his hands in his pockets. The citizens were still staring. Everywhere his eyes turned, he saw a new set of eyes. His hands turned to fists in his pockets. Could he really go through with this? He was lying, and he was going to rack demerits, and he was going to get in trouble. He didn’t like trouble.

Awkwardly, Martin stumbled into the town square. Even more stares, especially considering that he was in the open. Without paying much attention, he accidentally bumped into his mother, Lorraine. Martin would’ve preferred to not have seen her today…

“Oh, sorry-” Martin stammered before realizing who it was. “Mom.”

Lorraine shoved a flask back into her pocket. By the wide look in her eyes, Martin knew that she was afraid of him. And, for once in his life, he realized how wrong that was. For the longest time, he was told that he was helping her. Reporting her, getting her sent away, that was all about helping her. But now, he wasn’t too sure. Every time she was sent away, she only seemed to drink more. 

“Oo-oh hello, Martin!” Lorraine replied, forcing a large smile.

“Are…are you drinking again?” Martin whispered, unable to avoid asking it. It didn’t matter if he was supposed to be someone else, he needed to know. Shoot, the fake Marty behavior could wait.

“I-I’m not.” She was lying.

For once, Martin decided to not push it further. He was playing a role here, and it was not his usual self. Despite something at the back of his mind egging him on, there was something more important to be done.

Luckily, his mother swiftly changed the conversation. “What are you wearing? That looks outside of the dress code,” she scolded.

How the tables had turned. Now his mother was scolding him! “Dress code?” Martin said, deciding to play dumb.

“You know the dress code, Martin.”

Martin was going to continue playing his role. “Martin? And I do not know what you’re talking about.”

Lorraine gestured to the shirt and vest. “That!” She exclaimed. She then proceeded to grab ahold of the vest, ready to remove it. “Take that off, you don’t want to be caught!”

Once again, Martin felt another pang of guilt. She didn’t want whatever had happened to her to happen to him. She was protecting him, something he had thought he was doing for her but apparently wasn’t. But once again, he reminded himself that he was pretending to be someone else. A time traveler strained in this alternate timeline. Now wasn’t the time to apologize to her, or try to rectify things. Martin pushed her away. “I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“Did you hit your head a little too hard?” 

Martin gulped. He was lying to her, lying to everyone. But it was for the greater good, wasn’t it? “I didn’t hit my head at all, Mom. I got here and…and everything’s so confusing. And different. What happened?” At least his current anxiety probably sold the role. And that wasn’t even faked.

“Wha-...Everything’s the exact same. How it’s always been. I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lorraine replied with a slight tilt of her head.

Martin wondered if this conversation served any benefit. Would speaking to his mother really get him any closer to speaking with Citizen Brown? But Doc had reminded him repeatedly that he had to sell it. Everyone in the town had to believe that there was something off about Citizen Martin McFly. Which meant that speaking to his mother probably wasn’t pointless…

Gulping, Martin suddenly had an idea on how to further convince his mother that something was wrong. He wondered if his alternate self drank? No worries, not like any of the Citizens had a reference to how his alternate self acted. “Hey Mom, mind if I have a taste of that?” He asked, pointing at the flask.

Lorraine’s face shriveled up in disgust. “Absolutely not young man!”

At least Martin got the response he wanted. If he had to force himself to drink, he would’ve been sick. 

With that, Martin decided to shrug and walk away. He assumed that his act was enough for his mother to believe that something was wrong. What that something was, of course, his mother wouldn’t know. Martin couldn’t exactly go around claiming to be a time traveler. Doc had specifically advised against that, even if this timeline may or may not cease to exist.

That thought caused Martin to shiver, but he didn’t feel all that bad.

Sure, the thought of being erased like his alternate self made him afraid, but honestly, what did he have to lose? Nothing. Nor did anyone else in this cursed timeline. No one seemed happy except for maybe Citizen Brown and his wife, but apparently this alternate Citizen Brown was so convinced that the other timeline was better. That it should exist over this one.

That, or he was afraid of being erased.

Either way, Martin believed that Doc was right . This timeline should be erased from all existence.

Next, on pure accident as well, Martin ran into Jennifer doing, what else, scribbling graffiti on an alley wall. Really, Jennifer? He once again felt bile rise in his throat. How could she not see that what she was doing was harmful to the rest of society? How could she be so careless?

Martin couldn’t believe he actually dated her for a brief period of time.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to race away before being caught staring. Jennifer stared right back. Finally, she asked, “What are you looking at?”

“Your graffiti,” Martin answered. For a second, he thought of what else to say. What was his alternate self like? How would he reply? Although Doc had given him some information, Martin now thought that it wasn’t enough. He was sort of just making it up as he went along. “It’s…so cool,” he lied.

“Cool?” Jennifer threw the can of spray paint on the floor. “Are you messing with me, McFly? Making me lower my guard so you can report me?”

Martin gulped. Well, he had considered that, but that probably wouldn’t be in-character for his alternate self. “N-no, Jennifer. I meant what I said.”

Jennifer walked up to him, an eyebrow raised. She then glanced at his clothes. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“Uh…clothes?”

Jennifer frowned. “You’re not in dress code,” she said, suspicious.

Martin began to wonder if he was laying it on too thick. Did Jennifer think something was up? Well, that’s sort of what he wanted. Maybe he should just go with it and ignore his doubts. “I didn’t know there was a dress code,” he lied.

“You aren’t even dressed nicely for being out of code.”

Ouch, that hurt. Though Jennifer was probably right. Martin was dressed in what his alternate self wore in 1931. In his opinion, 1931 wasn’t exactly known for its fashion sense. “Sorry?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Jennifer quickly asked. “You’ve never gone out of code. In fact, I thought you knew the dress code for each day by heart,” she snarked.

Martin did, that wasn’t a lie. If anyone had asked him what they were supposed to wear for the current day, he could confidently give them an answer. In fact, he usually had to tell his own family what to wear, considering they tended to forget. “Well I don’t.”

Pausing, Martin realized that perhaps Jennifer could serve some kind of benefit in his efforts to speak to Citizen Brown. His goal was to rack up demerits, right? And the big one was for public displays of affection. But Jennifer wasn’t his girlfriend, and the thought of using her in this manner disgusted him. The whole plan disgusted him, but it was perhaps the only way to correct the timeline. But to do that, Martin might have to hint at the truth.

“I don’t think I’m the guy you think I am, Jennifer. I came from a long way away, returned, and everything’s different now,” Martin added.

Jennifer stared, not impressed. “I get it, Martin. After that previous conversation, you’re desperate to get me back. But I’ll never be seen again with a nerd like you.”

Martin felt hurt at her words. Sure, they were true, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Was this all people thought of him? A goody-two shoes? A nerd? A loser? “I thought I already told you, you got me confused for a different guy! I'm Marty!” He said, continuing with the act regardless. 

“Well, I guess you’re going to have to prove it, then,” Jennifer retorted.

“Did I not do that already?! Look at how I’m dressed, Jennifer!”

“I wouldn’t put it beyond Martin to wear that in a desperate attempt to get me back. Perhaps lost his mind and wouldn’t mind getting a minor demerit for it. You’ve got to do more. Prove it to me.”

Martin felt his palms sweat. How could he prove it any further? What was something he would never do?

He felt queasy at the thought. There were a lot of things he wouldn’t do. And there was a reason he wouldn’t do them. But to fix the timeline, it seemed as if he was going to have to ignore the nag at the back of his head and his unsettled stomach. “Give me a spray can, then.”