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Chapter Text

Of course there was a key under the doormat. Marty rolled his eyes at how easy this was going to be and ignored the shaking in his hands. He unlocked the door and pushed it open gently. He entered the garage.

The first thing Marty noticed when he walked in was that it looked not only like someone had been living there, but that a major slob had had been living there. Fast food trash was scattered on every surface. Weird machine parts covered the rest of the available space. Marty stepped fully inside and picked up a diagram sitting on an end table beside the door. The handwriting was surprisingly precise and neat, describing some kind of process for increasing fuel efficiency. He put it back among the mess as carefully as possible.

The second thing Marty noticed was the flickering light. Through an open door at the far side of the huge room, bright white light was flashing sporadically. If Marty didn’t know any better, it looked like sparks. All the rumors about Doctor Brown’s mad scientist tendencies swirled through his head and he hoped he wouldn’t be running into any experiments gone wrong. He wondered what kind of proof Needles and his gang would want from this place. I should just go, he thought, grab that paper by the door and get out of here before I get in too deep.

The third thing Marty noticed was a loud crashing sound, accompanied by even louder swearing and an extra bright flash of light from the room. Marty rushed forward, tripping over several things on his way to the door. He couldn’t just leave if the guy was in trouble or catching something on fire right? He’d come to break into the place, not kill some old man. He skidded to a halt in front of the doorway. He leaned into the room and saw an older man stretched as far as he could go over the top of a weirdly modified car. The man Marty assumed was Doctor Brown stood on his toes and had his arm down through the roof of the car. His eyes were closed and he was breathing unsteadily.

Marty took a step back, not sure what to do, and knocked over a precariously stacked pile of papers behind him. The old man’s eyes immediately opened and found him. Contrary to what Marty had expected, the man’s expression was intensely relieved. “You! Please, can you give me a hand with this?” He used his other arm to beckon Marty over. “I uh, may have miscalculated a few things so that if I happen to say, drop the convertor, the consequences may be catastrophic.”

The old man’s face was pleading and Marty didn’t give himself time to change his mind. He walked closer and nodded to make sure the man saw him agree. The sparks, emitted from underneath the car, cast a pale glow on both of them. Marty could see the lights sizzling on the old man’s socks. Doctor Brown let out a sigh of relief and started giving Marty instructions. “There’s a screwdriver over on the workbench, can you get it for me? The flathead! Okay, now I need you to get in the car and remove the top panel be very careful in there! The batteries are still overcharged!”

Marty carefully lowered the panel and saw that the roof was also open and he could see the man’s hand barely hanging onto an awkwardly shaped rod. “Are you good?” He hears the man say. “I need you take the rod from me as soon as you’re ready!”

Marty lifts his hands to the object. He puts one hand close enough to make sure the man knows that Marty has it. He tugs slightly. The man doesn’t let go and quickly adds, “It’s a lead compound so it is incredibly heavy, don’t let it fall to the ground.”

Marty tugs again as confirmation and the man lets go. Shit he wasn’t kidding! Marty thinks as he almost drops the damn thing onto the battery panel. He clutches it to his chest for a better grip. The old man slides off the car and crouches. He smiles broadly at Marty and says, “Thank you so much young man, you’ve just saved the whole block from going up.” He reaches to take the rod from Marty and carries it- more easily than Marty thought he’d be able to- over to a cluttered table where he sits it down gently.

The man then shouts and rushes to the source of the flickering light that Marty noticed earlier. An exposed wire is sticking out from under the car and the old man quickly wraps it in many layers of electrical tape. Satisfied with his work, he goes over and flips the breaker, causing the lights in the house to turn on and Marty to be momentarily blinded. When he opens his eyes again the old man is standing in front of him, offering his hand. Marty took it and was pulled to his feet, only then realizing just how damn tall this guy was.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Doctor Emmett L Brown, professional scientist,” He said, changing grips on Marty’s hand to shake it heartily. “I’m grateful enough for your assistance that I won’t ask what you were doing in here, but I would like to ask your name.” He winks at Marty, who flushes.

When Marty grimaces and doesn’t respond Doctor Brown frowns. “I’m not going to get you in trouble, you have my word.”

Marty takes his hand back from the wild haired Doctor and signs his name, not really expecting the man to get it. He pauses for a moment when he finishes and sighs at the confusion on Doctor Brown’s face. He’s just about to mime for a pen and paper when Doc’s face lights up. “Marty!” He says, beaming. “Right? Your name is Marty?”

He clumsily and slowly signs his question and Marty stares in amazement. ‘you know sign language?’ he signs.

Doctor Brown shrugs. He signed slower than he spoke, but he still did his best to supplement his spoken words. “I studied it for a while. I definitely need a refresher.”

Marty asks for a pen. Doctor Brown digs one out of his pocket and grabs a random piece of paper off the floor to hand him.

I know you didn’t ask, but I do kind of feel like I should explain why I’m here. Sorry about breaking in by the way, but your key was also super easy to find. He wrote, and then proceeded to explain about Needles and the challenge and everything. Doctor Brown read the whole thing thoughtfully.

“Well, Marty,” He sighed, “It remains that I can’t allow you to take anything to show him as proof.”

Marty shrugs, he understood that. Then Doctor Brown continues, “But I think I can do you one better. As you just saw, I obviously need an extra pair of honest hands around here, and Einstein could do with some more company.” Marty just stared, confused. “Why don’t we go get some food and discuss the possibility of me hiring you part time as my assistant. You’ve proven yourself to be capable, and that ought to show them you’re not to be trifled with.”

They walked down to the Burger King, since Doctor Brown’s car was currently indisposed at the moment. Marty started using Doc as shorthand for his name, since it was much easier to sign. “Doc” laughed when he noticed but said he liked it. They came to a proper agreement and Doc handed over his phone number with instructions for Marty to call after he’d talked to his parents. Marty rode his skateboard home, practically glowing. He’d never expected breaking and entering could end up with him feeling this good about his future. He never expected to run into somebody who, when they found out he didn’t talk, didn’t immediately ask why.

Over the next month, the two of them worked out a routine. They spent the rest of the year falling into it. Marty learned what he could touch and what he should stay away from at all costs. He would come over after school for a few hours on most days, walk Einstein, get anything flammable away from Doc’s workspace, do some other chores, and do whatever he could to help Doc with the experiment. It was comfortable, he got a few dollars a week, and he grew to like the crazy old scientist. Doc came to rely on him, and he still never asked why Marty didn’t speak.

The next year they fell out of routine. Marty starting skipping Mondays and spending most Saturdays at Doc’s. Doc went walking with him and Einstein (For my health Marty!). They started eating together instead of separately. They took turns at board games in between adjustments to his experiments, and Doc helped him with his homework. Doc came to Marty’s house for dinner a couple times in the summer, and Marty started calling Doc his friend. It was fun, and natural, and there didn’t seem like any good reason why they shouldn’t keep doing it.

Strickland caught wind of the arrangement and put more pressure on Marty. He had something against Doc, but Marty could never figure out what it was exactly, other than his eccentricity. Strickland wasn’t the only one giving Marty hell though, since Needles and his crew had a whole new angle to work for torturing Marty. Confrontations outside the school became a regular occurrence. “It’s been years, man. Old man dick the only thing that an get you to open your mouth huh?” Needles would sneer and his lackeys would laugh. “Gives a whole new meaning to choking the chicken, right boys?” They were relentless regarding his relationship with the older man, and it always got to him, perhaps because he was well aware his admiration for the older man could be taken the wrong way.

Even Jennifer got distant for a while, after she voiced her concern about Marty’s safety and Marty snapped at her. But within a couple weeks she was back and helping Marty defend himself with as much energy as she always had. Marty thought maybe he’d imagined her withdrawal. She still held Doc to a higher standard than Marty thought was reasonable, always asking if Doc was being cool about Marty’s dressing habits and unwillingness to speak. Marty always reassured her, consistently amazed himself. He brought it up to Doc one day, asking why Doc never said anything about it. “Well, Marty,” Doc had said, “I suppose I merely expected you to tell me yourself if you ever wanted to. And you’ve been kind enough to not proliferate the rumors I know go around town about me, so it seems only fair to return the favor in some way if I can.” Marty hadn’t told him why then, but had thanked him, and his fondness for the old man grew.

Once his parents adjusted to the idea of Marty and Doc being friends, they started invited Doc over for family gatherings. Marty certainly helped this decision when he explained how Doc had no family anywhere nearby and how sad he was to leave Doc alone when they had plenty of room at the dinner table. Especially considering that they had learned that Uncle Joey hadn’t made parole again!
Doc became a regular feature to the point that no one even thought to invite him to the Christmas party that year. They all just assumed he would show up, like the rest of the relatives. Marty had to run over to Doc’s place and drag him over when that didn’t happen. His loud, bright (it had real lightbulbs for Rudolph’s nose) Christmas sweater caused a stir with the McFlys. Marty couldn’t quit blushing and smiling at Doc, he looked so ridiculous, and made a point to keep him out from under the mistletoe (he was beginning to realize that the others maybe weren’t so far off regarding his feelings for Doc). Lorraine also couldn’t keep her eyes off of him, but for a different reason. She kept the fire extinguisher in an easy to reach place.

When the Halloween after Marty’s seventeenth birthday rolled around, he was amazed by how happy he felt. The cool fall air tousled his hair, and he walked casually around the square with Jennifer, going to each of the little Halloween activity booths that had been set up in front of the businesses and in the green space. “I can’t believe you, Marty,” Jennifer said, sighing. “How did you even think that was going to be ‘close enough’?”

Jennifer was referring to Marty’s costume. It was supposed to be Robin, but due to both lack of foresight and general laziness on Marty’s part, it had ended up looking a little more like the Riddler’s obnoxious little cousin who wore too many layers. Marty just shrugged. “It was the best I could do on short notice!” He signed.

Jennifer rolled her eyes behind the batwoman mask. “Short notice, right. I told you we should match costumes back in August!”

Marty grinned at her, then started scouting out their next target. The movie theatre was giving out popcorn, but then again, Bank of America had those caramel sucker things that Jennifer couldn’t get enough of. He pointed to Bank of America and then at the theatre. “Sure,” Jen said. “Let’s do BofA first. They always run out of those things.”

On the way over Marty told her about his plans to go over to Doc’s place for dinner after they left the square. “I told him we should try and make s'mores with whatever I bring over candy-wise, but he wouldn’t buy it,” Marty laughed. “Said something about how it could ruin s'mores for him forever.”

“That man, I swear. What’s that supposed to mean?” Jennifer asked.

Marty shook his head. “I have no idea, but I guarantee you by the time I get over there he’ll have a chart drawn up to see what kind of candy would hold heat better for melting the marshmallows.”

Jennifer snorted, agreeing with Marty. She hadn’t interacted with Doc much, but she had heard enough stories about him to believe it. She could see why Marty like him. “He still hasn’t asked, has he?” She said.

A sigh. “No, he hasn’t. I finally broke down and told him about the other thing though. I guess everyone goes on about how I’m lying to them, and I just didn’t want to do that to him.”

“How’d he take it?”

“Surprisingly well, actually. I didn’t think he’d be as bad as the others, but he didn’t even ask me any questions. Just said, ‘That’s fine, Marty. Of course I have never doubted the veracity of your claim to boyhood.” Marty chuckled. “Then he just asked me to hand him the wrench like it was nothing. Here I was, expecting this heavy conversation.” Guess I should be glad that’s the only time he’s let me down, Marty thought.

They got in line in front of the booth. Marty suddenly glares at Jenn. “Hey, speaking of heavy conversations, you still haven’t told me who you’ve been seeing!”

Jennifer blushes. “All in good time, Marty. I’m not even sure if there’s anything to tell yet honestly.” She takes a step forward in line.

“Ah come on, Jen, just tell me,” he complains, but they reach the front of the line before he can press her any further.

As the person in charge of candy hands over some of the caramels, someone catches Marty’s eye. A tall man in a black cloak and white mask strode purposefully past the table and into the bank. Something about the way he carried himself seemed painfully familiar to Marty, and he found himself leaving the line to follow the man. He caught the door and slipped inside, turning back to tell Jennifer to wait outside for him. When he turns around to look for the man again, he sees a swift movement by the counter and then hears a gunshot.

Everything is plunged into chaos. The few people in the bank, fewer than ten, screamed and dropped to the ground. The security guard approached the man in the cloak with one hand on his baton and one hand held out in a plea to get the man to surrender. Marty was frozen by the door. His heart felt like it had stopped, and all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears. The man pointed his gun directly at the security guard. Then for the first time in two years, someone else heard Marty’s voice. “Stop!” He called out, right as the man pulls the trigger, and everything stops.

A hush falls over the bank, in stark contrast to the pandemonium of just a moment ago. Marty lets out a shaky breath, confused. The man in the mask seems to be the only one still breathing. He lowers his gun and turns his head excruciatingly slowly towards Marty. The rest of his body follows, until he’s facing Marty fully, the gun by his side. Even from a distance he seemed to tower over Marty, silent and menacing. He took a few steps towards Marty, his hand shaking as if he couldn’t decide whether to use his weapon or just try to chase Marty out.

Marty swallowed. “P-put the gun down,” he choked out, voice rough from disuse.

The man froze again. He bent slightly, then all of his muscles tensed and he fought against the order. As he lowered himself further, he never once took his eyes off of Marty. A chill went down Marty’s spine. The man finally placed the gun on the floor. Then, after a heartbeat, faster than Marty could have anticipated, the gun was in his hand again, pointed towards Marty. A shot rang out, and Marty flung himself to the side, ending up behind a flimsy cardboard advertisement.

Noise flooded the building and everyone started moving again all at once. Marty scrambled out from behind the sign only to the pushed out of the door by the other patrons as they fled. There was no sign of the hooded man. Jennifer caught Marty by the arm as he was herded past and drug him out of the flow. Marty flailed for a moment and then recognized her. He gestured over to the car that his parents had let him borrow and they ran over, Jennifer sliding into the passenger seat and Marty into the driver’s. “Holy shit, Jennifer that was heavy,” he signed before putting the car in gear and pulling out of the parking spot, hoping for some time to figure out what to tell her as he drove.

Chapter Text

They stopped at Jennifer’s place first and she made him explain everything that had happened. He told her about the man with the gun and about getting shot at but then hesitated. “Jennifer, I’ve got to go talk to Doc,” he said.

Jennifer was wide eyed, but managed to keep calm. “Yeah, okay, sure,” She stopped Marty from running his hand through his hair yet again. “You should go see your parents first, in case they hear something on the news and start to worry.”

Right as she said that, her father burst out of their house and ran towards his car. Jennifer opened the car door and called out to him. His relief was apparent. Jennifer said goodbye to Marty and then ran over to her dad. “We’ll talk tomorrow!” She said, calling over her shoulder.

Marty did go home first, but his mind was racing the whole time. When it was just him who was the freak, it was fine. He was a freak. But now there was a guy who could what? Stop time? Freeze people in place? He had to tell Doc. He could hardly believe he’d waited this long now that he thought about it. After all, the one thing that scared him about opening up to Doc, other than the risk of accidentally mind controlling him, had been that his voice might not exactly have sounded like a guy’s, and he had that conversation with Doc last week!

He didn’t get out of the house as quickly as he’d wanted to, because despite his parents’ relief that he was alright, they still were trying to drag words out of him for a verbal explanation. Marty just couldn’t do that. If he’d waited this long to talk to Doc, who he’d grown to trust more than just about anyone besides Jennifer, he sure as hell wasn’t going to speak out loud to his parents no matter how well they meant.

The sun was setting by the time he skidded away on his skateboard, an hour past the time he’d meant to be at Doc’s for dinner. His heart was pounding nearly as much as it had been in the bank. He kicked his board up and walked to Doc’s door. He reached under the mat for the key, unlocked the door, and pushed it open, years of practice making his movements easy. Most of the lights were down and there was a burnt smell in the air. When Marty looked around he saw Doc hunched over the table in the corner where the kitchen stuff lived, muttering furiously and scribbling notes.

Marty knocked on the inside of the door and waved to get his attention as Einstein bounded up to say hello. Doc jumped out of his seat, quickly shuffling his papers. Marty scratched Einstein behind the ears and pushed the big dog off of his chest. He tried to smile at Doc, but his exhaustion still showed. Doc quit staring and went to him, placing his hands on Marty’s shoulders. He squeezed comfortingly. “Marty, what’s the matter? I wasn’t sure if you were still coming,” he said, exhaustion clear on his face as well.

Marty sighed in frustration, and tried to steady his hands for what he had to say. Doc’s name was on his lips. “Doc, I… I need you,” he signed, letting Doc’s name slip quietly off his tongue. “Doc, please this is heavy, and I need you right now.”

Doc took a step back, his face a mask of confusion. “Marty, what are you saying?”

Marty clenched his eyes shut and kept signing. “You’re the only one, Doc…” A hesitant pause, and he opened his eyes to see Doc moving closer. His chest was pounding. “You’re the only one who might be able to get this…” Doc’s hand reached out and cupped Marty’s cheek. His eyes were wide. “I can’t stand waiting to tell you.”

“Marty, are you sure?” Now that he was closer Marty could see that Doc’s eyes were red. He swayed slightly as he peered down at Marty.

Something seemed off, but Marty nodded. Yeah, something seemed really off, especially since Doc kept getting closer. He froze and closed his eyes again as he felt Doc’s lips press against his. Whatever coherence remained in his mind fled at that instant. For one heartbeat, two, three, neither of them moved. Then Doc stiffened abruptly. “Marty, I, I’m sorry I don’t know what came over me,” he stuttered.

Marty just watched Doc straighten up in amazement and ran a hand through his hair. It was almost too much to process on top of everything else that had happened today. “I’m so sorry, Marty, I don’t know what made me think that was an appropriate action,” Doc was still babbling and a burst of laughter broke out of Marty.

Doc’s mouth snapped shut. Marty clapped a hand over his own mouth. They made eye contact. Marty took his hand away from his mouth to reveal a wide grin, and he grabbed Doc’s collar and pulled him back down for a deeper kiss. Doc squawked in protest, but quickly regained his balance and wrapped both arms around Marty, trying to alleviate the awkwardness of their height difference. This time it was Marty who pulled away, feeling far more clear headed than he had when he’d arrived.

Doc’s face was just as confused as before, his eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth open slightly. “Doc,” Marty stepped back so he could sign easier, “You don’t know how long I’ve been hoping you would do that.”

There was no way Doc could have anticipated that kind of response. He turned sharply to face away from Marty, muttering to himself, and then just as sharply turned back to Marty, some of his energy restored. “Marty, are you completely serious about this? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Marty rolled his eyes. “I mean, that’s not why I came over, but yeah,” he huffed. “I’m sorry if that’s awkward for you but dammit, that’s one secret I’m not going to keep anymore.” His hands moved swiftly and with authority, as if he was afraid Doc would interrupt him. “I’ve got it bad, Doc.”

Doc grabbed Marty’s hands. “Marty…” Marty had never seen Doc at such a loss for words. “Marty, I won’t say I haven’t thought about this before.” His thumb stroked the back of Marty’s hand gently. “I won’t say that I don’t have strong feelings for you.” He squeezed Marty’s hands. “But we need to talk about this more reasonably than I am capable of at the moment. Can you come by tomorrow and discuss it further?”

Marty pulled his hands away. “Of course,” he signed. “No problem, Doc.”

He took a step back. “Hey, are we good? Forget whatever happens tomorrow, you’re not going to cut me out are you?”

He could tell that he’d struck a nerve in Doc. “Marty! How can you say such a thing? You’re an invaluable part of my life. I refuse to allow something as trivial as this come between our friendship,” Doc said.

Relief washed over Marty, and he backed away further towards the door, waving at Doc before pulling it open and stepping out into the night, realizing he hadn’t had a chance to bring up the real problem. He sighed. No way could he go back and lay this on him too. He shook his head and started walking. It would have to wait for another day. He slept more soundly than he thought he would even after everything that happened that day. Doc didn’t sleep until morning.

The other students near Marty’s desk jumped when Jennifer turned around and smacked his desk. Marty jumped too, nearly smacking himself in the face. Jennifer leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “What happened? Did he know anything about the guy?”

Marty took a deep breath and collected himself. He shrugged, face flushing, remembering why he hadn’t actually brought it up with Doc. “Well, uh, I kind of got sidetracked.” He still needed to talk to someone, and Jennifer was right here in front of him, easy and uncomplicated. “Jennifer, I need to tell you about something, and it’s pretty heavy.”

They sat outside together after school. Jennifer was focused, rolling the new information over in her mind. Marty watched her anxiously. He tapped his fingers on his leg and huffed. “That makes so much sense.”

Marty freezes. Jennifer repeats herself, “That explains so much. No wonder Needles has it out for you so bad,” she laughed in amazement. “I can’t believe you got him to literally eat shit! Of course you’d quit talking after that.”

Marty just stared in disbelief. Jennifer shook her head. “You can control people with your voice. Marty, you were right, this is really heavy. Is your voice related at all to the guy from the bank?”

A shrug. He was surprised she had believed him so easily but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Jennifer…” Marty signed, more hesitant now than before. “There’s something else.”

“Something else?” She quit laughing. “What else could there be?”

Marty’s face got red again. “Well, you remember how I kinda said I got sidetracked?” Jennifer nodded. “Well, I uh, I mean, me and Doc may have kissed.”

Jennifer didn’t react.

Marty signed again to drive the point home, “Doc kissed me! I kissed him! Come on, Jen, say something here.”

Jennifer put a hand on her forehead. She took a deep steadying breath. “Marty… that’s crazy. Are you okay? Do we need to tell someone? I… I can’t believe he’d do that.”

Marty shook his head and struggled to find the words for a second. “No, you don’t need to tell anyone. I’m freaked, but I think it’s okay? Doc thought I’d asked him to and we were both way out of it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not gonna lie, Jen, I wanted him to. I hate that people say all that shit about us but… I think I want it to be true.”

Jennifer’s face softened and she touched his shoulder. “Are you sure? This is really strange, Marty, all of it. Doc doesn’t get to take advantage of you.”

“I’m actually going back over there today,” Marty added before Jennifer could protest, “Doc wanted to have a ‘conversation’ about things. Believe me, he’s not going to make me do anything I’m not okay with.” He considers briefly. “Well, outside of the science stuff anyway.”

That got Jennifer to grin slightly, although she still looked concerned. “I’m just a phone call away if you need a sidekick.”

They reluctantly said goodbye when Jennifer’s dad pulled up. She gave Marty a quick hug and ran off to the car. Marty straightened his jacket, sighed, and threw down his skateboard. He usually went over to Doc’s place first so his parents wouldn’t think much of it, but Marty needed a little more time to prepare before facing the issues at hand. Home he went.

He entered the garage a few hours later, palms sweaty and heart racing. He heard a crash from the bathroom and then muffled cursing. Marty just sat at the kitchen table to wait, too nervous now to seek Doc out more than he had. Doc emerged from the bathroom moments later, wiping his hands off with a towel. He caught sight of Marty and froze. He took a step towards Marty, stopped, took a step towards his workbench, stopped. Finally, he moved decisively towards the kitchen table.

Doc eased into the seat across form Marty. Marty had never seen him look so hesitant. It was as if he was afraid of scaring Marty away. He placed his hands flat on the table and stared at them. He was obviously still worn out. “Marty before you say anything, I want you to know that I have no expectations of you and I am deeply sorry if I overstepped my boundaries last night,” he looked up, “I won’t make excuses, Marty, it was a mistake on my part.”

A firm “stop” sign from Marty cut him off. “No, Doc. It wasn’t a mistake,” he said. “Doc, I’ve wanted you to kiss me since Christmas at least!”

Doc’s brow furrowed and his jaw worked. Marty continued before he had a chance to say anything. “I mean, I figured if I said anything you’d think I was a freak or something,” He frowned before continuing. “So, I’m glad you did it, because now we can talk, and maybe this a mutual thing, huh?”

The amazement on Doc’s face mirrored Marty’s hopefulness. He shook himself. “Marty,” he said. “Forget the general attitude towards homosexuality, how could a man of my age be involved with you in good conscious? The effects it could have on your future…” He trailed off.

Marty’s heart fluttered when he realized Doc had just called them gay. “Doc, you’ve never given me any reason not to trust you.” His hands cramped from the severity of his words, so he shook them out. “I’m up for it. It’s heavy but I’m up for it, Doc.”

A smile spread slowly across Doc’s face. He reached over the table and rested a hand on Marty’s arm. “Marty, I assure you your feelings are returned. The risks to myself are acceptable, I just don’t want you to ever feel pressured into this, just because of our friendship.”

Marty laughed at that, appreciating the irony. Out of the two of them, he was the least likely to be pressured into something. “No worries there, Doc,” he said simply.

Doc stood abruptly, his exhaustion less apparent. “If we’re going to do this, Marty,” He held up a finger. “Then I want you to come into this totally informed.” Marty silently agreed, preparing himself to tell Doc what he meant to last night.

Doc bounded over to the tall black cabinet that he always kept locked. He fumbled with his key-ring until he found the proper one, and Marty watched him in amusement. There was a knock at the door. Doc dropped his key ring, and Marty kicked the table. Doc made eye contact with Marty, who shrugged but stood and went to the door. He pulled it open slightly to find Jennifer standing there with her arms crossed. He pulled the door shut quickly and huffed before reopening it far enough to step outside.

“Jennifer what are you doing here?” he signed, making sure his irritation came across.

She shrugged and smiled. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t need any backup. Also wanted to drop this off with you for approval.” She handed over the folder she was holding.

Marty opened it and immediately shut it when he saw what was inside. He shook his head vigorously, handing it back to her. “Jennifer I don’t have any interest in being a superhero. I’m not your guy, that’s police business,” he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “Anyway I don’t feel right talking to people. Even if they are bad guys.”

Jennifer sighed, but held the folder back out to him. “Just take it. I’ve got another copy at home. Think it over!” She shook it at him until he took it reluctantly. “I’m out of here, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She winked and walked off.

Marty went back inside the garage to find Doc clicking the padlock back onto the tall black cabinet. Doc shot him a smile, but it lacked the energy from before. “Everything all right, Marty?” he asked.

Marty nodded, the folder heavy in his hands. No way was he going to explain this to Doc now. Not if Jennifer was trying to push him into vigilantism. He couldn’t speak to any of them. He’d have to make sure Jennifer knew that his voice was not something he would ever use willingly. And there was no telling how Doc would react. He’d probably ask Marty to speak for some kind of experiment, and Marty wouldn’t be able to say no. “Yeah, everything is fine. But I should probably get home and work on my homework.” Meaning he’d better get back and find a place to hide that folder.

Doc closed the difference between them and wrapped Marty in a hug. “Thank you for coming over to talk, Marty. You know you’re free to change your mind at any point in time.” He pulled back to give Marty space to sign.

“Of course, Doc. You too,” he signed, then stood up on tiptoe and pulled Doc down to give him a quick kiss.

Doc grinned, his eyebrows nearly up to his hairline. “I’ll see you later, okay Doc?” Marty said, the warmth spreading in chest soothing his anxiety over the costume design.

Doc nodded and straightened, pushing Marty towards the door. “Yes, yes, of course Marty. Now you go get your work done, and I’ll do some of my own.”

Chapter Text

Going to Doc’s felt like a brand new ordeal. Everything that had been familiar and comforting was suddenly strange and hesitant. The context had changed. Marty couldn’t be happier about it, he was downright giddy, but the discomfort of navigating a whole new set of boundaries made his fingers twitch. Marty hadn’t been great at keeping secrets before he went quiet and, even though he had improved due to all the shit he made up to answer questions people shouldn’t have ever been asking, his nerves shot through the roof when Lorraine asked where he was going. “Now, Marty, are you going to be home for dinner?” She asked.

            He shrugged and signed to Linda for translation. “I don’t know, ma. I’ll probably grab something with Doc.”

            Lorraine sighed and took a ‘sip’ of her drink. “Marty, don’t you think you ought to be spending more time with your family?”

            Marty looked at Linda in a panic, hopeful she would adlib something reasonable. “I’m not your knight in shining armor, Marty, you’re gonna have to get out of this one yourself,” she said. He frowned at her.

            “Ma, come on. I spent the last three days at home!” He signed. 

He had called Doc each night to listen to him talk about his experiments. He couldn’t say anything back, but he had wanted some contact. It hadn’t seemed right to change their relationship like that and drop off the face of the earth for a few days immediately afterward. It was nice to just hear his voice. It was always nice that once he got going on something he was interested in, he could fill the silence for hours all on his own and Marty never had to provide more than the occasional morse code tapping for feedback. Doc always said it helped him, like a coder explaining their work to a rubber duck. 

            After three days, Marty was not going to pass up a chance to see Doc now. He’d waited long enough. Marty needed to be there, just to reassure himself that nothing had changed too drastically. All he needed was an hour or two to be sure they were still friends like always. Even though he hadn’t let Doc know he was coming today, it wasn’t unusual for him to just drop by. Lorraine was frowning but he knew she was about to say it was fine. Their early discussion about rumors aside, she was thrilled he had somewhere to go when he needed it. Then the phone rang and Linda grabbed it, interrupting the stare down and setting off Marty’s anxiety once again. “Marty! It’s for you!” Linda called. “It’s Jenn.”

            Marty swore internally and slid past his mother into the kitchen where the phone hung. He held the phone to his ear and waited for Jenn to start speaking. She always counted to five after someone handed Marty on the phone to give him time to start listening. “Marty! I’m glad I caught you. Can you come to the square? There’s something going on and… shit, I’m going to try and get closer. Just get here quick!”

            The sound of the receiver being slammed back into place came over before Marty could process her words. He slowly handed the phone back to Linda and then raced out the door, grabbing his backpack and skateboard on the way. If Lorraine protested, he didn’t hear her. The square, come quick, Jen was scared. Doc could wait, he would have to handle his own shit for another night. He grabbed the first car that went past him and held onto the back, hoping it would take him all the way there. Slingshotting off a turn, he rolled through the intersection on the corner to the right of the courthouse faster than he should’ve been going. 

            Upon his arrival, Marty saw that Jennifer hadn’t been kidding about something going on. Police had set up a barricade around the bank, the same one that the strange man had been trying to rob last week. The rest of the square was packed full of onlookers, all herded to a safe distance just past the edge of the grass lawn. He didn’t see Jenn anywhere but a girl he recognized as Tiffany Tannen flagged him down. He skidded to a stop just before launching himself over the curb, rushing over to see if she knew anything. She seemed breathless and her eyes were wide. “Hey, um, Marty right?” She said.

            He nodded and asked if she knew sign language. She stared blankly. Marty sighed and slung his backpack off his shoulder to pull out his pen and paper. Tiff continued to talk while he was writing. “Jenn is… that is, I don’t really know what’s going on, but they’re saying someone is robbing the bank and Jennifer went in there before the police got here, and I haven’t seen her come out.”

            Marty stopped and looked at Tiff, mirroring the fear he saw in her eyes. He resumed writing at a more furious pace. He showed it to Tiff and she read, “Have there been any gunshots? Why aren’t the police doing anything?”

            Tiff swallowed. “No gunshots, they aren’t supposed to go in when there’s a hostage situation. Somebody is supposed to come negotiate with the guy. They can’t see anyone moving inside.”

            Marty wondered if it was the same man and if he had frozen time again. If he had, then why hadn’t it affected outside the bank? No time to wonder right now, Jennifer was in danger and he knew there’d be hell to pay if he didn’t help her and anyone else in there. If it was the same man, then the police didn’t stand a chance against him. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was going to have to use his voice, and that if this asshole kept showing up he’d have to take Jenn up on her harebrained ideas. Adrenaline coursed through him and he wrote out a question for Tiff. She looked confused but handed him her scarf anyway. Marty told her to go wait in the alley, cutting off her inquiries.

            The scarf tied tight around the lower half of his face, and the hood of his jacket pulled close so that only his eyes were visible, Marty felt utterly ridiculous. ‘May as well have taken Jenn up on her offer to make me a costume,’ he thought bitterly.

            One of the police officers’ eyes immediately fixed onto him as he approached, feigning more confidence than he actually had. “Stay back, son,” the officer said, holding up a hand to dissuade him.

            Marty took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this. Two years of fighting and awkwardness and pain just to let it slip the first time he got scared. What else could he do? He could throw a punch, but beyond that, he just had to rely on his assets. His voice was one of them. So, after doing his best to calm down, he spoke for the second time in two years. “Let me through.”

 His voice was still raspy, and it shocked him like it had when he had spoken to the hooded man last week. It hardly felt like his anymore. The words sounded far away, alien, and his hands accompanied them out of habit. It didn’t make any difference to the man he spoke to, he knew. Just like with Needles, the officer’s eyes glazed over and although he frowned, he still stepped aside. A fellow uniform came jogging up. “What the hell are you doing, Nathan?” Nathan just shook his head and held his friend back from stopping Marty.

            The door opened too loudly. Marty cursed under his breath as he stepped inside, gingerly picking his way through what looked like broken glass. As he had suspected, everyone was frozen. They stared blankly, in poses that suggested motion. Marty felt like he was in a wax museum with the way they all looked a little too real and a little too dead at the same time. The hooded man stood at the desks, rifling through piles of paper. Now that Marty had a little time to watch him, he could tell the man seemed nervous, almost frantic. He seemed out of his element. “Hey! What are you doing?” Marty said, letting himself get a little volume.

            “Well, obviously I’m trying to rob this bank,” the man muttered, irritated.

 His voice sounded warped, almost Darth Vaderish. The papers continue shuffling for a long enough moment that Marty is taken aback. What’s he supposed to do if the guy just ignores him? Then the man finally looks up and catches Marty’s eyes, realizing something was off about the situation. Marty imagines his expression changing behind the mask. Doc’s face appears in his memory, the endearing surprise of whenever Marty interrupts his deep focus. He wished Doc was there now. Doc wouldn’t know what to do any better than him, but they always worked best together. 

            The next thing Marty knew he was on his back with a large metal bar on top of him. The impact wasn’t enough to hurt him badly, but the breath was knocked out of him and he took a little too long to stand back up. By the time he did, the hooded man was struggling to open the vault door. Marty dusted off his clothes and coughed, making his way over to where the man stood. The hooded man must have noticed because every few feet Marty had to dodge another falling piece of drywall or splinters of wood. “I learned from our last encounter, my friend,” the hooded man said, grunting as he tried to get enough leverage to pull the door out. “Learned how to set traps! It’s quite an interesting technique if I do say so myself.” 

            The dust filled the building and Marty coughed, still trying to move closer. The vault door squealed as it opened. He knew he had to say something, had to stop this from continuing, but his mind was blank. The words just wouldn’t come. He settled for moving as fast as he could until the hooded man slipped into the vault. Marty followed, squeezing through the narrow opening. His jacket caught on the edge of the door and he had to grab for his hood to keep it up. By the time he had organized himself again, the hooded man had pulled out his gun once more. This time, it was pointed at the security guard who had the misfortune of being in the vault at the time. Marty froze in place. Fuck. He wasn’t ready for this at all.

            The man’s hand shook, but the security guard didn’t move, frozen like all the others. It was an old revolver, fancy but it had seen better days. Not the man’s first choice to resolve a conflict. “If you say a word, I’ll shoot,” The voice was distorted, but he could hear the hesitation. “If you move towards me, I will shoot him.”

            Marty swallows hard, trying to alleviate the dryness in his mouth. What the hell had been thinking? He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t even that great of a person! But Jennifer was in here, and this guy was going to hurt someone. There wasn’t a choice anymore. His eyes moved around the room, searching for something that could help him. He decided to call the bluff and took one slow step towards the man. “Hey! What did I say?” His voice boomed in the small room.

            Another slow step started, he saw the man’s shoulders stiffen, then his trigger finger. “Stop it!” Marty shouted, just as the crack of the shot sounded.

            Everything shifted around them. The air felt still, the gunpowder at the muzzle frozen in the burst. The man was staring at it and Marty wished for a moment he could see the guy’s expression. Neither of them breathed for the next few moments, working out next moves and processing the outcome of the previous ones. Marty opened his mouth to speak again but just as he tried, a siren blared through the building, the security guard collapsed, and the hooded man raced directly towards him, his bag in one hand and the gun in the other. Marty jumped to the side and watched helplessly through the vault door as for the second time in as many months, the man got away. 

           The guard let out a heart-rending yell. Marty stepped out into the main lobby. The remaining hostages, at least those who weren’t too dazed to move, shoved their way out of the doors. Marty watched the chaos unfold, dizzy. He tore off the scarf, gasping for air. He swung wildly when a hand gripped his shoulder. Jen caught his wrist before he managed to strike her. He hadn’t even seen her before. She caught him in her arms before he could bolt and he suddenly had a face full of the soft cotton of her cardigan. It took him a long moment to realize the dampness was from his own eyes, and the sobs were his own. The ringing in his ears died down and he dug his fingers into Jen’s back, desperate for an anchor. 

The police rushed in fully armed and furious, minutes later. Marty assumed the guy had frozen them on his way out. They were probably pissed about that, did they even know it had happened? Everyone left was questioned in groups. Jen and Marty ended up in a group with a woman who was very eager to talk. Luckily, this took the attention off Marty’s silence. The cop just suggested stopping by the EMT outside to get him treated for shock and then left them alone. It was so noisy there, between the sirens and the shouting. He just wanted to be home. 

             “-y? Marty?” Jen was saying his name. “Do you wanna go to the hospital or do you want me to take you home?”

            “Home,” Was all he could get out before his hands dropped to his sides. 

            Safely in his room, having evaded the questions and frantic probing of his family, Jen and Marty sat in silence together. He couldn’t think of anything to say. It was his fault. That guy wouldn’t have gotten shot if he hadn’t interrupted and made the guy panic. He thought about the way the masked man had trembled, holding the weapon. The guy was a crook but… he wasn’t out there to hurt people. No, that was on Marty. He’d rushed in half-cocked without even considering anything that could go wrong. Jennifer could have been the one… He couldn’t bring himself to think about it. 

“I’m sorry. I got… caught up,” Jennifer’s voice startled him. “I thought it was so cool and I didn’t even think about it. You were right, this isn’t a game. It’s serious. I was an idiot.”

                What should have made him glad to hear just made him feel pissed off. She shouldn’t be the one feeling guilty about this, he should have protected her! The cops weren’t doing shit, and they couldn’t just let this guy run around. Even if he wasn’t a killer, it was only a matter of time. If just one push from Marty had been enough, it couldn’t have taken long to get to that point even without him. He just didn’t know enough yet. He had to know more about the guy, why he was here, what he was doing. The image of the security guard falling like a sack of bricks flashed in his mind. He shoved Jen hard enough to push her onto the floor. “Hey!” She shouted, “What the hell, Marty?”

Anger sparked in his chest and his hands. “No! You’re not sorry! You don’t get to be. I’m the one who should be sorry. This isn’t going to happen again. I’m gonna stop him, and he’s going to be the one sorry.”

  That didn’t seem to ease her concerns any, but after a moment she set her face into something more determination than fear. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

Chapter Text

“You don’t have to do it alone.”

The phone rang and Dave called up the stairs before Marty could make Jen elaborate on what she meant. “It’s uh… Tiff? She sounds pissed!”

“Shit,” Jen said, and scrambled through the door.

Marty blinked. He’d been so caught up in everything that the fact that Tiff was there with Jennifer had gone completely over his head. They’d fucking forgotten Tiff. He threw himself back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Laughter bubbled up in his throat as he listened to Jen’s muted but frantic apology. They all came out of it okay at least. This time. He would have to check on the news to find out if the guy survived the gunshot. And the next step? The possibilities stretched out in front of him like a hallway in a horror movie. He shut down that line of thinking real quick. There was time to figure that out. Right now, he had to make sure Tiff was alright and figure out how to get his mother to let him leave the house ever again.
By the time he made it downstairs, Jen was wrapping up her call.

“Yeah, I’ll make it up to you I promise… I’m Sorry! How many times… no, it’s fine, I’ll pick you up… yeah bye.”

The look she gave Marty when she set the receiver down was brutal. She was daring him to tease her. Marty just shrugged. “At least your girlfriend was born the same decade as you.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes at that. “I’ve gotta go home now, my dad’s gonna kill me.”

Marty made a face. She was probably right. Marty was on thin ice enough with her dad as it was since the last fiasco, so he wasn’t looking forward to driving her home. She must have guessed what was up, since she hurried and added, “I’m calling them now, going to get them to pick me up.”

“Well, Jennifer, you know you’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” Lorraine appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, well into her third drink of the night. “Would you like a snack? Some juice?”

They both politely declined the offer and opted to wait on the porch. It was hot for November, and sweat dripped slowly down Marty’s ribs. He sighed and leaned against the door, head tilted back to watch the moths fluttering around the crooked porchlight. Tiff was alright, one job down. Maybe he had enough headspace now to let another thing take it up. He glanced over at Jen, who was watching the entrance to their street like a hawk. She was probably planning on warning Marty as soon as her dad pulled in so he could get inside and avoid the interaction altogether. He tapped her shoulder. She jumped slightly but turned to look at him.

“Will you help me figure out what I can do?” Marty asked, hating himself for the suggestion already. “With my voice. I can’t do it alone.”

Jen smiled up at him. “Sure, as long as you promise not to make me eat dog shit.”

Blush crawled up his ears and he shoved her, more playfully this time. He was glad she was the one who knew. Needles was too proud to ever admit what had happened between them, but he also wasn’t ever going to be anyone Marty could rely on. Jen was reliable. He briefly considered telling Doc again, since his scientific perspective could be valuable, but dismissed it. He needed to do this at his own pace, within parameters he could control. Doc wouldn’t mean to push him too far, but Marty had a hard time acknowledging his own limits on a good day, let alone with a man he admired standing right there watching. He wouldn't be able to stop himself from trying to show off.

They decided to meet up after school the next Monday. Jen wanted to get started sooner, but Marty wanted to have the weekend to see how everything was developing with Doc. Assuaging his parents’ anxiety was just the excuse he gave her. Her dad pulled into the drive after ten or so minutes of them chattering mindlessly about anything besides what had been happening. Marty shot to his feet and dove back inside the house. He signed a quick goodbye through the screen door and then slammed the more opaque wooden one as she laughed and skipped down the stairs. He dodged his mother, now on her fourth drink, and fled back to his room. Exhausted and relieved, he fell back into bed without bothering to change out of his clothes.

Skipping school wasn’t even a question the next day. It was Friday and with everything rattling around in his head like a bowl full of loose screws he thought he might scream if he had to sit behind a desk for longer than twenty minutes. Lorraine even suggested staying home, but that wasn’t an option either. If he took it he would be stuck there with her and Linda all day, and that sounded nearly as suffocating. So he told her he was going anyway, and then took the first left turn towards Doc’s place. No hitchhiking this time. The wind in his ears and the quiet was soothing. He took his time getting there.

When he arrived, the first thing he noticed was that something was… off about Doc’s place. He was snoring on the couch, which was fine, but everything else in the room was actually tidy. Papers were put away in file folders, machinery bits were put back in drawers, and even the bookshelf looked organized. In the three years they’d known each other, Marty had never seen the garage look this put together. It was like walking into the 7/11 past midnight and seeing it stain-free and full of nuns. He just looked around for a minute in awe before he shook himself out of his shock and decided to shake Doc gently out of his sleep.

The level of alarm Doc showed as he jumped awake would have been funny on any other day. It took a solid three seconds for him to recognize Marty and calm down, another thing to file under ‘things that are concerning.’ “Someone break in, Doc?” He tried to seem lighthearted.

His only reaction was confusion, “Ah, no? Why do you say that?”

Marty gestured to the rest of the garage by way of explanation. “Only thing I can think of is someone broke in and cleaned,” He pretended to examine the floor, “I mean do you even own a mop?”

Doc laughed at that, then yawned and stretched. “It was long overdue. Was getting to where I worried the fire marshal might decide to take issue with me personally.”

Now that was a statement Marty couldn’t disagree with. He smirked in return. They’d had more than one reason to use the old fire extinguisher after all. Still, Doc must have taken all week to do this. Or maybe all night, considering how tired he still looked. Had he been sleeping at all since Marty saw him last? Worry tickled at the back of his mind despite Doc’s reassurances. They sat awkwardly for a few moments before Marty took the risk and leaned in against Doc’s chest. He could hear Doc’s heart racing as he stilled for a moment, then laid his arm comfortably across Marty’s shoulders. Things were different, but they didn’t have to be weird. Doc stroked Marty’s hair gently.

“Do you still want to pursue this sort of relationship, Marty? Now that you’ve had time to think about it?” He didn’t sound like he wanted to ask that question, much less hear the answer.

Instead of answering he looked up and kissed Doc on the lips, smiling as he pulled away. How could he not? Everything was crazy and he might end up dead the next time something happened, and the one thing he was certain of was that he was glad they had made this move before one of them was in the ground. Doc returned his expression and then sighed, leaning back against the cushion with his eyes closed. “Alright, I won’t ask you again.”

The squeeze on Marty’s shoulder was comforting, but he winced as Doc put pressure on a bruise he hadn’t realized was forming. The beam that fell on him… he wondered if the blue would cross his whole chest or just his arms. It would probably lead to more questions than he wanted to answer if Doc found out about it. Best to keep it quiet. They stayed close on the couch, dozing for a while. Then Doc groaned and shook himself, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He rose, despite Marty’s complaints, and strode purposefully over to the cloth-covered car in the back of the room. He ran his hand over the surface and then dramatically pulled the cloth back.

“Marty, I think it’s time to resurrect this particular phantom,” he had a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “By this time next year, I’ll have it complete.”

Despite refusing to answer any of Marty’s questions about it, Doc stayed overflowing with excitement the whole day. His energy was infectious. They spent the weekend combing through catalogs and listings for the equipment he would need to continue working on the car. Doc grumbled about the availability of specific compounds and metals, but it had been a while since Marty had seen him so focused on one thing. He took breaks to play his guitar while Doc concentrated on working out formulas for something so abstract Marty didn’t even want to sit through the explanation, had one been offered.

It was all a good distraction for what he knew was coming on Monday. He couldn’t keep himself from feeling like actually practicing with his voice was a horrible mistake. In all the superhero comics his dad read, the good guy rarely enjoyed using his powers. What if he got the taste for it? What if the thrill of getting his way was too good to pass up? He thought about telling his parents to acknowledge that he was a guy, telling Needles to leave him alone, Vice Principal Strickland to stop giving him detentions, and the temptation settled uncomfortably in his belly. It would be nice. It would be easy. But it still left a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t want them to just say it, he wanted them to believe it on their own. He wanted them to see it for themselves without him having to fight them every goddamn day.

They left school together the next day. The back alley behind the diner seemed like the best option for privacy. Other than the staff bringing out bags of garbage twice a day, they were the only people with any reason to be back there. They left their book bags leaning against the dead-end and stood facing each other, Jen with her arms crossed and Marty with his fingers tapping anxiously on his thigh. He knew he had to do this, but how the hell do you go about asking someone if you can mind control them? He bought some time by digging out a notebook with half-finished geometry notes and turned to a blank page.

Trial 1:

What the fuck else should he write? He knew how to construct an experiment, loosely speaking, but what sorts of variables should he even be worried about? Jen peered over the top of the notebook, then grabbed it from and scribbled some things Marty couldn’t see. She frowned, erased it, then rewrote something new. She held up a chart for Marty’s approval.

“Okay, so what if we start by testing duration. If you tell me to do jumping jacks or walk in place or something, and then we time how long it takes for me to be able to stop!” She was pleased with herself, and Marty was relieved that she was taking the lead on deciding what he would tell her to do.

After some negotiation, they decide to start with walking in place. It wasn’t a strenuous enough activity that it would wear her out too fast, so they could get a better picture of how long the command worked for normal, not dangerous things. Marty’s hands shook as he asked one last time if Jennifer was ready to go through with this. She frowned at him, irritated by the question. Marty just shook his hands out and took several deep breaths, psychic himself up.

"Walk in place."

How long would it take for his voice to sound like his again, he wondered. He wished he could change it. If he could lower the pitch, adjust the tone, now that would be real power. It wasn’t like he had a super high voice, but it definitely was never going to sound the way his dad's did. There were perks to not talking. He held onto the sliver of euphoria from all the times they’d gone out of town for an errand and a shop clerk or a passerby had referred to him as ‘young man’ or ‘sir.’ Without opening his mouth, they never even knew any better. Well, they never knew better aside from the times his mother so helpfully told them they were mistaken. He bit his lip and refocused on Jennifer, she was the one he needed to pay attention to right now.

Four steps was all it took before she was able to stop. She looked disturbed though, disoriented. She stood still, staring blankly for a moment before she locked eyes with Marty and raised her eyebrows.

“Well that sure was something,” She said, “Very… weird.”

Marty signed, “Weird how? You okay?”

“I uh, need a second,” She said, grabbing the pencil and notebook off the ground and pausing a moment before writing something. “So, it wasn’t unpleasant until it was over at least.”

That was something, Marty supposed.

Jen stopped writing and threw the supplies back on the ground. She rolled her shoulders back.

“I… needed to fulfill the request. I wanted to,” She frowned. “I went from normal to suddenly intensely focused on completing one specific task. While I was doing that I felt amazing: just relaxed and satisfied.”

“Could be worse,” Marty reasoned. “Afterwards?”

“I got a huge rush of euphoria for a second or two afterwards.” She tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “And then nothing, just realizing what had happened and that I didn’t have any choice in the matter. I knew I’d really have to do anything you said, and I don’t really like that to be honest.”

Marty grimaced at her. He wondered briefly if they should be worried about addiction to that rush, and whether that would work in his favor with the guy they’d scuffled with. But there was still the issue of duration, which was what they had been trying to test. He leaned down to examine the paper.

“You stopped pretty quickly though, do you think you made that happen?”

Jennifer shook her head, “No, I just felt… done. I… If we’re gonna do more trials let's try to set duration verbally next time. Tell me to walk for a minute or a hundred steps or something.”

“You sure you want to do more? It’s okay if you don’t. We can just come up with some stuff to try.”

She put on a brave face but he could still tell she was shaken. “No, let’s keep going. We’ve gotta know for sure.”

They started with twenty steps. She had to go the whole way. Next, they tried 60 seconds. The timer ran out and Jen stumbled to a stop. Her eyes were empty for a few moments, like she was trying to remember where she was. Marty felt sick. She hadn’t even been able to try to stop. Everything in her wanted to follow the order. There were no thoughts besides that desire. She shut down Marty’s protests and told him they were trying something new for the next trial. Marty couldn’t think about anything anymore but the way her hands were shaking, but she was still puzzling through the process with total focus. They were going to try something complicated, and difficult, and too long to be quite safe. When Marty hesitated she grabbed his shoulder.

“Marty, it’s my fault that the guard got shot. It’s my fault you got involved at all. If you’re going to be in danger then let me help you how I can.”

In the face of that, he couldn’t say anything at all. He felt the same weight of responsibility for the guard, for whom no new information had been released. It wasn’t a game anymore and he had to be prepared. That’s why he had agreed to this bullshit in the first place. If it had been Linda, or Dave, or his mom he would have been destroyed. So he had to make sure it wasn’t anybody next time. He just hated that it had to be her standing here frightened in front of him. She was the last person he ever wanted to subject to this power, even if all the things he was telling her were harmless and it was for a good reason. He’d make it up to her somehow. He wasn’t sure what could make it up to her, but he would do his best.

“Okay, let’s do it then, but this is the last one today, alright?”

Jen agreed, relieved despite her insistence on continuing, and stood in place waiting for the order.

“Alright uh…” This was going to sound stupid but no point in drawing it out. “Write your name 100 times while hopping on one foot.”

Like before, Jen’s reaction was instantaneous. She held the notebook and scribbled on it while hopping up and down. If it wasn’t so morbid, it might have been funny. About ten hops in she lost her balance and fell. She got up and went right back to what she was doing until she fell again three hops later. This time it took a little longer for her to rise and Marty took a couple of steps closer to check on her. She blinked up at him, the vacancy in her eyes back full force. He couldn’t tell if she actually saw him. She got to her feet slowly and started to lift her left foot again but then stopped, put it down, and picked it back up. She managed to write her name twenty more times before she suddenly dropped the notebook and froze.

“Jen? You okay?” he signed, trying to make sure he was in her line of sight.

Jen didn’t move. She didn’t acknowledge him in any way. He glanced down at his timer. It had been five minutes since she started and he wasn’t sure if he should stop it now or keep it running. She wasn’t following the order anymore but she definitely wasn’t… normal again. He let it run for two more minutes and just watched her anxiously. At two minutes and fifteen seconds, he opened his mouth to say her name, needing to try anything. She blinked before he could say anything and looked up at him, dazed. Marty let out the breath he had been holding and leaped back to his feet, rushing over to grab her by the arms.

“Jen! Talk to me, what’s going on?” He signed frantically.

At least this time Marty could tell Jen was watching his hands. The expression on her face frightened him. Her mouth worked noiselessly for a few seconds before she could manage a word. Her fists clenched and unclenched. It looked like she was trying to take control of her body one piece at a time. Finally, she shook her head and said quietly, “Need a minute. Brain turned off.”

Now Marty was definitely worried.

“What the hell does that mean, Jen?”

When she didn’t answer right away he stalked over to the notebook she had dropped and snatched it off the ground. Her handwriting got messier and messier as she had written, and by the 13th repetition, it wasn’t even recognizable as letters anymore. Jen had been onto something with this, she hadn’t finished the task. Glancing over at her, still stock still in the middle of the alley, he wondered if it was worth it if it left her totally debilitated like this. There was no way to know if this would be the same as the hooded man, but it was good to know. He needed to try and be more specific with his words next time so the man wouldn’t get away as easily. Even if he could break out sooner than Jen, maybe he would be stuck like this.

“Well, that was… less pleasant.”

Marty’s attention snapped back to Jen. She was trying for a smile but not quite managing it. She looked worn out, slouching and dragging her feet as she stepped towards him. Marty wrapped her up in a brief hug, relieved she was okay. She patted his back and then her hands dropped. Marty let her go and looked her over, checking for any remaining sign of his compulsion.

“Let’s go inside, I’m buying you a milkshake,” He insisted, taking her hand and pulling her out of the alley and around to the front of the diner.

Once they were settled in a booth and had tall, cold glasses in front of them, Jen seemed a little more grounded. She sucked on the straw and then slid her glass over to the side.

“So after I got distracted from falling it was like… I couldn’t do the task anymore so I couldn’t do anything. Everything stopped. I couldn’t finish a thought because I couldn’t finish the task. Everything was too much, too bright and loud and overwhelming and I couldn’t focus on anything because everything hurt,” she pulled the milkshake back over and just wrapped her hands around it. “It was like I was stuck in a box being rattled, except I was the one rattling it and I couldn’t stop. It calmed down after a while, but it took a while. It’s still… bad. I don’t think I could do anything complicated. Homework is going to have to wait until tomorrow in homeroom I guess.”

She had a gentle smirk, trying to lighten the mood. Marty wasn’t paying attention. It sounded awful. No matter how helpful it was, no matter how guilty Jen felt, he wasn’t doing that to her again. They’d learned enough. It would have to be enough. Condensation ran down the side of Marty’s glass and dripped cold on his hand. He had been right to stay quiet. He’d never talk to anyone again, except the hooded man. And once that guy got caught, that was it. His mouth was closed for good. No one should be able to do this to another person. No one should be able to reach inside their minds like that. He paid for their milkshakes and they walked home together, neither one saying a word.

Chapter Text

School was rough that week. Jennifer was still off, and Marty was distracted watching her to make sure she was okay. The third time she forgot to turn in homework the teacher sent her to the counselor’s office to find out what was going on. They made eye contact as she passed Marty’s seat and she winked at him, always trying to seem stronger for his sake. She was usually a good student so they probably wouldn’t be too hard on her. If it had been him fucking up they’d have him in detention for a week if they noticed at all. The slight squeeze of jealousy was more than tempered by relief that someone gave a shit about her. She deserved it.

On his way out Friday afternoon, a rough hand on his shoulder shove him into the wall of lockers. His head bounced off the wall and he staggered, putting his hands up to ward off any more blows. Needles was already halfway down the hall ahead of him but looked back with a sneer. Marty’s throat tightened and he grit his teeth. Needles had been a lot braver this year. Marty didn’t think he’d forgotten, but he was definitely pushing some limits. Seeing how far he could go without Marty cracking and saying something to him. Marty stood with his hand against the cool metal for a minute, composing himself and giving the guys time to get ahead of him. He didn’t want to run into them outside.

Home wasn’t much better. Tannen had been around twice, once Monday while Marty was with Jen and the second during school hours. No one had told him, but he could always tell. His folks weren’t as good at hiding shit as they thought they were. It must have been a bad week at work, because when he got home Tannen’s car was caddy-cornered in the driveway, sticking half out into the street. Three times in one week meant trouble. He groaned out loud, dropping his bag from his shoulder to his hand and rolling the skateboard up to the yard. He heard it hit something weird and looked up. Tiff was leaning up against the wall beside the door, staring at her feet, one of which was sitting on the skateboard he’d sent towards her. She was taller than him, built like her dad. Luckily that was the only thing similar about them as far as he knew. If Jen liked her she couldn’t be all that bad anyways.

Neither of them moved. Marty could hear muffled voices coming from inside. Biff and his dad. His mom was probably hiding in Marty’s bedroom again. It was the farthest from the front door. Marty relaxed the fist he noticed clenched at his side and went to grab the skateboard. No point staying here, he’d just be leaving again later with much more drama. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder by way of asking Tiff if she wanted to get out with him. This was as much her problem as it was his. She offered him a grateful smile. After looking over her shoulder at the door she pushed off from the wall and fell into step beside him.

“Hey,” her voice was softer than he expected, kinda nice. “Think you could teach me some of that sign language? Using paper all the time seems kinda shitty.”

A nearby pigeon was startled into flight by Marty’s laugh. Tiff pouted, sitting with one leg up on the bench in the square, hand still in the shape of the sign she had just attempted.

“What? I’m doing it right aren’t I?” She repeated her unfortunate mistake and Marty just wheezed.

He shook his head and showed her the sign again. From the chin, not under it. “Thank you.” Then he showed her what she had done and flipped his middle finger up at her. “Fuck you.” An important difference, for sure.

She cracked a smile and cocked her head to the side. “Well shit, yeah when you put it like that!”

Rattling behind him made her look over his shoulder. Marty didn’t bother, it was just Red. They oughta be moving on soon to get out of his way, he’d want his bed back for the night. He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. The frustration bit at his heels. Not a pen between them and only a limited vocabulary and he was missing Jennifer and Doc like nothing else. He wanted to learn more about her and ask her about her relationship with Jen but there were so many things he just couldn’t say with charades. It had been nice to hang out with someone new though, even if she was Biff’s kid.

“Hey,” her voice surprised him. “Thanks, for walking with me, that was cool of you.”

Tiff’s expression was familiar. Marty had worn it plenty, especially when his mom had misjudged her sobriety level in public. He made a promise to himself right then that he’d never hold her to the shit her dad did. She probably had enough trouble at home that he didn’t have any reason to add to it. He clapped a hand on her back and kept walking. She left him at the next intersection with a promise to practice signing with Jen so they could actually talk next time. Neither of them mentioned the certainty of there being a next time. Marty waved until she turned around, and then kept walking.
It was well after dark by the time he rolled up in front of Doc’s garage. They’d hung out the last time Tannen had been over, and he wanted to make sure the angst was out of his system before he showed up again. He was tired of complaining about it to Doc, and he was sure Doc was tired of hearing about it. Nothing either of them could do anyway. Except there was, a venomous voice muttered in his head. There was a solution to this problem. He shook the worm out of his ear and went inside, hoping Doc would be in the mood for some music.

"Marty? That you?" Doc called from his position under the car.

There were boxes scattered around him in various states of unpacking. Marty recognized some of the stuff they'd looked at in the catalogs. Doc’s feet stuck out from under the Delorean, where he was hidden up to his bare knees. Sinatra crooned from the jukebox. Marty smirked at the sight and picked up his guitar to strum a single chord by way of response. Doc rolled out and grinned at him, absolutely covered in grease and dirt. He pulled himself up by the mirror and attempted to dust his hands off on his equally dirty shorts.

"I'm glad you're here! I was just about finished for the night, only need three or four more hours to get to a decent stopping point."

Ignoring Emmett's rather shaky definition of 'almost done', Marty nodded and signed, "Anything I can do to help?"

At least the rag Doc grabbed was slightly less soiled than his hands. "No, no, it's alright. Just your company will do for tonight. I'm working on some rather delicate pieces at the moment, so another pair of hands would likely just jostle things that ought to be kept still," he seemed to consider the crackling jukebox for a moment. "Although if you'd like to play something, a little fresh music wouldn't be remiss."

That was all the encouragement Marty needed. He set the amp to acceptable levels and tried out some riffs before settling into one song after another. Once he got bored with that he just started to play whatever came to mind, making note of any progressions that sparked his interest for later. Doc kept working and didn't say much other than the typical talking to himself he did to keep track of where he was in the process. It was nice not to think for a while.

Doc’s hand on his shoulder made Marty jump, and he had to slap the guitar strings to stop the sudden screech that came from it. He turned to see what Doc wanted, shocked that much time had passed already. Doc looked sheepish about having startled him, but jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the car. He signed as he spoke.

"That’s enough I think. I'm going to wash this crust off and join you. It's been a long couple of weeks, Marty, and I need a break."

Saxophones could almost sound like singing when paired with a guitar and played well. Doc had decidedly improved since they'd started playing together a couple of years ago and now his playing sounded better than his actual singing voice, at any rate. He actually wasn't bad, but Marty couldn't stop himself from trying to trip him up with weird combinations and key changes. It was just like all their different games of tag, but this time Doc was the one trying to keep up. Every time he got a little quicker on the transition, Marty fell a little more in love.

They ended the night laughing. Emmett removed the reed and valve and laid them with the body in the middle of the table. Marty rolled his eyes, knowing at least one of the pieces would be missing by morning. He hung his guitar beside the amplifier and stretched, yawning. It had to be after one. Long couple of weeks indeed, he thought. Doc caught Marty from behind and spun him around to tentatively kiss his forehead. Marty snorted and lifted his face to offer a proper kiss instead. Doc’s lips were chapped, but nice. It was still a bit thrilling that they could do this now. He didn't want to take it for granted.

Everything felt so easy until it didn't. He knew he wanted this. Doc said he wanted it too. Besides, they were definitely both too tired to try anything sexual. So why was his heart still racing so badly when he asked "is it alright if I sleep with you?"

Apparently Doc felt it too, if the blush on his cheeks was anything to go by. It was unexplored territory. How comfortable everything else was just put this in harsher contrast. Marty relaxed a little when Doc told him that would be fine.

"As long as you're comfortable?"

Marty actually thought about it for a minute. Doc was down to his undershirt and boxers, like always. He usually slept in his clothes when he was here but jeans might bother Doc. Borrowing a pair of softer pants would be an option if he thought his hips would fit into them. He didn't even want to try that. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable with Doc seeing him in his underwear, but what if someone came in? The more plausible deniability they had the better. Nevermind that the thought of seeing himself without pants always put a bad taste in his mouth.

"Do you care if I wear my pants?" He asked.

Doc frowned. "I assumed you would, Marty, don’t you usually?"

Oh, perfect. Marty crawled over top of Doc to get to the other side of the bed and stretched out beside him. The mattress was comfortable, one of the few things in the garage that wasn't ratty and worn. A good mattress is vital to your health, Doc had said about it once. Whatever the case, Marty was glad for it tonight. He curled up and laid his head on Doc’s chest. Something inside him uncurled when Doc
started playing with his hair.

Sleep didn't come as easily as he had hoped. Another body beside him was distracting. Comforting, relaxing, almost euphoric yes, but every breath Doc took brought him back to the heat between the palm of his hand and Doc's stomach. No dream was going to be better than this moment, but it was still frustrating. He rolled over to his other side. Doc grumbled something in his sleep and then kept snoring. Marty smiled.

The next sound he made was less endearing. Marty wasn't sure if it was the shout that woke him or the hands grabbing him and yanking him into Doc’s chest. He yelled and flailed his hands, fear surging until he figured out that nothing else was in the room with them. He craned his neck to look behind him. Doc’s eyes looked vacant. He was having a nightmare. He'd always talked in his sleep a little, but Marty had never seen him react to something like this.

"Marty what did they tell you? Is he alright? Is he alive?"

The fear in Doc’s voice alarmed him. There was no way to sign clearly from this angle and he wasn't sure Doc would understand him in this state anyway. He patted Doc’s arm gently, judging how asleep he actually was. When there was no response a thought occurred to him. He wouldn't know if Marty spoke to him. He wouldn’t remember Marty’s voice. He wondered if the power would even work on someone asleep. Hell, he could sing if he wanted.

Lyrics popped into his head. The Way You Look Tonight, by Sinatra. The song that had been playing on the jukebox when he came in. He knew the words. He licked his lips and shifted gently to slide his arm around Doc’s back. He couldn’t stop himself, not when he was here like this. The words came out rough, off-key and quiet. But he sang.

'Someday, when I'm awfully low,
When the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you.'

The tension melted from Emmett’s body. Marty rested his forehead on Doc’s chest as he all but whispered the chorus. Even if he could never tell Doc about his voice or speak to him normally… this was good. It was risky, and he was watching for any sign of Doc waking up, but every word out of his mouth felt like a thorn being pulled out of his ribs. Doc breathed in sharply and Marty stuttered back into silence.

"I'm sorry." Emmett's voice was shaky but his grip relaxed and he slowly laid back down. "I'll change it soon."

Moments later he seemed to be asleep again and Marty was left to catch his breath. The list of concerning things kept getting longer and he wasn’t sure how to ask about any of them. On their own it was all fine, but together it was adding up to something actually worth stressing over. What kind of pressure was Doc putting on himself? It had to be the car. There was nothing else big going on as far as Marty knew. He would have to find out for sure what that thing was going to be and why it was giving Doc nightmares. But that would be a problem for later. Right now all Marty wanted was to sleep.

Morning and an empty bed arrived far too quickly. As hard as it had been to settle down, Marty wanted the feeling of Doc next to him back the moment he noticed it was gone. When he sat up and looked around, he saw Doc back at work already. Marty blinked and rubbed his face. He was tempted to just lay down and go back to sleep, but considering he'd never really gone home yesterday he knew his folks would make an issue of it if he got home afternoon. A kick to Doc’s foot got his attention, and they said goodbye before Marty left. Fantasies about spending the whole weekend together brought a grin to his face that he couldn’t keep down, even as he walked through the door of the McFly house.

Teachers reminded them about the upcoming Thanksgiving break by handing them piles of extra homework. Pre-calc was the worst, and the essay for English was a close second. He tagged Jen after class to ask if she’d be up for studying together. They hadn’t talked much since their experiment and while he had no reason to think she wouldn’t want to keep up their yearly tradition he wanted to make sure they were still cool. He couldn’t stop worrying that she was afraid of him. What better way to get back on good terms than sitting in near silence for hours at a time and occasionally throwing things at the wall out of frustration? To his relief, she seemed happy he had asked.

“Yeah! My place or yours?” she interrupted before he could respond, “Hey is it okay if Tiff joins us? She said you guys hung out the other day and if you’re cool with her, that’d be nice. She’s ahead a year in math anyway so she might be able to help with the calc stuff.”

She was talking fast out of nervousness. It finally clicked for Marty that she was less worried about what he thought of her dating a girl and more worried about what he thought of her dating a Tannen. Fair enough, he hated most of the Tannens he’d had the misfortune of meeting. Kid Tannen was a scary guy and Biff was… well, now wasn’t the time to get worked up. He felt bad for not reassuring her it was fine sooner, but the look she gave him after Tiff called made a lot more sense. He was such an idiot.

“Of course that’s fine! She seems cool,” he said. “Your dad gonna let me in?”

She smirked, “Yeah, he’s mostly over it. But we’ll probably have to babysit a little.”

Marty just shrugged. The kids were fine, even if Hank liked to try and eat his pencil erasers. They’d probably be less disruptive than his family. Tiff’s house wasn’t even an option and he was fine to keep it that way. He’d been over to the Tannen house once and that was enough. At least he had Doc’s place to get away to when he needed it. He hoped she had somewhere. If not, maybe Jen could give that to her sometimes. At the very least roaming Hill Valley after dark was safer in pairs and his shoes weren’t worn all the way through yet.

The next afternoon they arrived in front of Tiff’s house together. The rope tied to Jen’s bike rack went slack and Marty skidded to a stop beside her. Three large dogs barked at them from behind a fence that didn’t seem adequate to keep them in. Tiff opened the door and ran out, backpack half zipped and hanging off her front. She scratched one of the dogs behind the ear and made kissy noises at them as she squeezed through the barely open gate. She did a double take at their transportation system, then shrugged and approached them.

“Hey, uh, we better get out of here, Pops is in a mood," she sounded breathless.

Sure enough, the second she made contact with Jen's bike, Biff burst out of the door yelling for her.

"Hey! Did I say you could go anywhere?" He caught sight of Marty. "What are you doing hanging around that McFly girl anyway?"

He marched through and threw his leg over the fence to get to them. Tiff was begging Jen to start riding, she would just run until they could find a second. Jen was frozen. Marty could see the anger working its way up her neck and into her eyes. She looked at him. Biff reached them and grabbed Tiff by the shirt collar. She yelled and flailed, trying to get loose. She lost her vest and leapt behind Jen and her bike.

"I'm just going to study, pops! Chill out!"

Biff lunged for Tiff again, making Jen jump and fall over with her bike landing hard on her knee. Marty shoved Biff on instinct, barely moving the guy at all. It did however, get his attention. The sneer on his face was all too familiar and Marty’s stomach sank. He always did get in over his head. Biff reached out to shove Marty backwards, but he was already out of reach. Alcohol must have been slowing down Biff’s reaction time, thought Marty as he sidestepped another haymaker.

“Marty, do something!” Jen’s voice distracted him and he looked down at her, dumbfounded.

What the hell did she think he was doing? He stepped on his skateboard and nearly face planted on the asphalt. A lightbulb went off and he shoved it forward under Biff’s feet. He was too pissed and focused on whacking Marty to notice, and went flying forward the second he took a step. Unfortunately, this also sent him flying on top of Marty who was now on the ground underneath Biff. Yeah, he was gonna do something. Sure, Jen.

If he’d been upset before he was pissed now. There was no talking him down from this one if the shooting pain in Marty’s scalp was anything to go by. Tiff was kicking him in the shins and Jen was yelling… something he couldn’t quite make out. His ears were ringing and his vision was blurry. Had he hit his head on the way down? He couldn’t remember. Everything was so loud and he felt like he was going to puke if it didn’t stop. He could make it stop if he wanted to. The idea came through the fog like a beacon, and he latched onto it.

“Biff, put me down!” Shit, he was really doing this?

The grip on his hair loosened and he collapsed to his knees, gasping. He tried to look up and the world pitched into a spiral around him. “Go inside, and take a fucking nap, Biff,” He tried to sound commanding but he was pretty sure it just came out slurred and squeaky. “You’re drunk.”

It was dead silent besides the ringing in his ears. He focused enough to see Biff standing there swaying like he’d already fallen asleep. He nodded, “Okay, yeah. I am kinda… tipsy I guess.”

The three of them watched as Tannen stumbled back through the gate, ignored the dogs going crazy around his legs, and went back inside. Marty puked in the grass by the edge of the road. He could hear Jen and Tiff talking behind him but he didn’t care enough to figure out what they were saying. Then someone had hands on his shoulders, and under his arms, and around his back. He was being carried. He had a brief moment of fear that they’d try to take him to the hospital, and images of medical bills and needles superseded his vision. He wanted to ask where they were going but he didn’t have his hands. Where were they?

They were at Jen’s place before he managed to sink back into his body again. The combination of soft couch cushions, worried voices, and the hot cup of coffee in his hands brought him back round to the present. He blinked, and Tiff and Jen were standing in front of him, behind a very serious looking Mr. Parker. He held up a small penlight and Marty blinked furiously, about to protest when he took the light away suddenly.

“Well, girls, it seems Marty has a concussion. He’ll need to stay awake for at least eight hours and have his condition monitored closely. It will take a few days at least to recover in the best case scenario. Are you sure you don’t want me to take him down to the hospital?”

Oh, right. Mr. Parker was a doctor. He wanted to giggle over how convenient that had been. There was a doctor right where they’d already been going to study! Jen thanked him and said they were just gonna call Marty’s folks in an hour or two if he wasn’t improving and see what they wanted to do. Her dad grimaced and nodded, looking them over one last time before he went back into the kitchen to pour a coffee for himself.

Tiff knelt down in front of him and he took a sip of coffee. “Hey Marty?” She started. “That was great but uh, what the fuck?”

Marty stared at the coffee cup for a second before realizing he could just sit it down on the end table beside him. He started to sign but Tiff grabbed his hands. He yanked them back, frowning at her. Jen put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her back.

“No, I’m serious. What the fuck,” Tiff let her self be led to her feet but didn’t taker her eyes off him. “You and I both know that was not normal. Dad would never have let that alone. What did you do?”

Jen squeezed Tiff’s shoulder and tried to look apologetic. “I didn’t tell her, I wanted to wait until you could explain if you wanted.”

The consequences of what he’d done started to sink in. Tiff knew. If he was lucky Biff would write it off as drunken stupor, but that would depend heavily on how wasted he was when they’d shown up. What was he going to do if Tiff wasn’t going to keep quiet, or got weird about it? “I can make people do things. I don’t want to so I don’t talk. That’s it. Don’t tell anyone,” he signed, hands feeling stiff and clumsy.

Jen translated for him and Tiff groaned, throwing herself to the floor. Jen sighed and sat beside her until she stopped flailing. “We’re serious okay? You can’t say anything about it.”

Tiff rolled her eyes, “Yeah, who the hell would I tell.” She lifted her head to make eye contact with Marty, who was having trouble remembering where he put his coffee. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe. I don’t want anything to do with that shit, so no problem. I'll have more questions when you're in one piece again though.”

Marty knew he would feel relieved later, but for now, he was just happy to have the warm mug back in his hands. It seemed weird to study right after all that, but Jen and Tiff got to work. Mr. Parker wrote a note for Jen to give to Marty’s teachers and an order not to go back to school until next week. Marty was more than fine with that. He wondered if his folks would let him stay with Doc if he promised they would be quiet and not get into trouble. Then he remembered he would have to tell his parents he had a concussion and only a few slivers of giddiness left him. It would still probably be worth it if he got to stay the night an extra day. He smiled blankly while Tiff argued with Jen over logarithms.

Chapter Text

After Lorraine’s initial panic, it was easier than he expected to sneak out under her watch. He almost felt bad to leave her there alone, with everyone else out working still, but with the way she had shut down his explanation as soon as Biff’s name got brought up, it stayed an almost. Dad would be home soon anyway to keep an eye on her. He was too tired to babysit anyway and barely managed to land on his feet after crawling through the window. By the time he got to Doc’s, he was dizzy and nauseous again and just wanted to lay down. Walking that far was definitely against the doctor’s orders.

Back to the door, Doc was on the phone when Marty walked in. He said goodbye and hung up, turning around to see Marty standing in his doorway. He jumped with a shout and looked back at the receiver in alarm.

“Marty! I just got off the phone with your mother!” He rushed over and held a hand to Marty’s forehead. “She told me you’d had an accident. You should be resting, how did you even get here?”

That his mother had called it an accident wasn’t surprising, but it still made him grind his teeth with frustration. Of course, she wouldn’t have told him. Lorraine didn’t realize Marty told Doc everything anyway. The idea that Marty would actually be honest with his best friend wasn’t on her mind. Marty getting into fights was one of the things that embarrassed her the most anyway. Getting into one with Biff was the worst thing he could have done beyond an actual crime. Although as fondly as she spoke of Uncle Joey, maybe that would be preferable after all.

“I, uh, didn’t want to stay home,” Marty said, slowly, “Could I stay here a couple days? No school.”

Doc sighed and took Marty’s backpack from him. “Of course you can, Marty, but it’s very important that you rest when you have a concussion, so don’t be up and about causing trouble. I’ll call your mother back and tell her you’re here and shouldn’t be moved again.”

Pointing to the bed, Emmett told him to lay down while he dealt with Lorraine. Sneaking out had been a dick move but Marty couldn’t imagine being stuck in bed in the house with her for days in a row. He’d go crazy. He thought about the time he’d had to take care of Doc for a week when he caught the flu somehow. The bastard had refused to admit he was sick until he caught his hair on fire falling asleep at the workbench. As bad a patient as he’d been, Marty didn’t feel bad about imposing on him for this at all. But still, it was nice to hear Doc say he was alright with it.

From the long spaces between Doc’s attempts at forming a sentence, Marty could tell his mom was pissed. He didn’t really care anymore, that was Doc’s problem. Marty was too busy undressing and curling up with a pillow folded over his head to worry about that. Blood was pounding behind his eyes. Even Doc’s attempt at hushed conversation was painful. The sensation of being trapped underwater was so overwhelming that he didn’t even notice Doc had finished talking and was sitting beside him until he felt the hand on his shoulder.

“Marty,” Doc whispered. “Take this, and drink a little water, then I’ll let you sleep.”

Marty groaned, but propped himself up and took the ibuprofen Doc was offering. He swallowed a few mouthfuls of water to wash it down and then collapsed back on the bed. Doc rubbed his shoulder gently a few times and then rose from the bed. It seemed like it took him ages to fall asleep. When he did, he was barely over the edge of it. Sounds and smells and sensations kept him rooted in the physical world too much, even after he couldn’t move anymore. He just wanted to rest. Everything was demanding so much attention.

Dreams chewed on the edges of his consciousness. Ghosts and shadows moved through the garage, taunting him. He couldn’t reply, couldn’t engage. They kept talking to him like he could. He could feel himself speaking back to them, but he couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. Doc was in the background winding and unwinding his clocks all at once, not touching any of them. Jennifer was desperately pointing at Doc, trying to show Marty something. Someone who looked vaguely like George McFly juggled in the back corner. He tried to tune it all out but it kept replaying, again and again, the exact same way. Only Doc’s position changed. The pain over his temple seemed worse every time it returned.

Only feeling slightly better in the morning, Doc wouldn’t let him out of bed for any longer than it took to use the restroom and brush his teeth. Marty was quickly supplied with toast and another ibuprofen. He finished the water from the night before and just laid back with the hope that if he was still, the room would stop spinning too. He clutched a pillow to his chest and tried to breathe evenly. Nausea died down after a few moments, and he felt brave enough to open his eyes. Doc had pulled down all the blinds so that the only light was from his desk lamp. The bed Marty usually occupied was unmade.

After Marty knocked three times on the bedpost to get Doc’s attention, wild white hair popped out of the bathroom. Doc tried to say something with his mouth full of toothpaste then thought better of it and ducked back in to spit and rinse. He bounced over to where Marty was still laying, wiping his face with a towel. He chucked it over to the hamper. It landed on the floor nearby and Doc frowned at it before turning back to Marty.

“Hey, Doc, I didn’t mean to take your bed,” Marty said, “I can move, or you can sleep with me. It’s fine.”

“Don’t worry about a thing, Marty,” he said, “I noticed you were just in your underwear and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I slept perfectly well as it was.”

Underwear? Shit, he was right. Heat traveled up his neck and the pounding in his head got worse again until he took a few deep breaths. It was okay. It was fine. It was Doc. Even before he had told Doc he was trans, Doc had never called him anything but Marty and had never referred to him as anything but a guy. Doc had corrected his family when they tried to use Marty’s full name in front of him. Doc already knew what was under Marty’s clothes, and he still respected him. If Marty was going to be undressed in front of anyone, it would be Doc. Things didn’t have to change between them and he had no reason to believe they would, based on the evidence at hand. If Marty wanted to be with Doc romantically and physically he’d have to take the chance sooner or later. He’d rather choose to trust Doc than the alternative.

“Thanks.” Marty hoped Doc understood the weight of what he meant in that one word. “Would you come here a minute? I wanna see if I can deal with it.”

Doc didn’t move. “Marty, you don’t have to ‘deal with’ anything. I’m more than happy to respect your boundaries.”

Marty tried to roll his eyes and then stopped. He had to admit he was glad that Emmett was being so patient with him. Doc wasn’t one to hide things from him, so Marty believed what he said. This place was safe. Marty was safe with Doc, and always would be. At least, he would be in the ways that mattered to him. So instead of rolling his eyes, Marty smiled.

“Shut up, I wanna be close to you,” he said. “It’s okay. If it’s not I’ll kick you out, yeah?”

Reassured, Doc climbed into the bed beside Marty. Marty had to scoot over to the other side, but it was easier than letting Doc climb over top of him. He thought briefly about offering Doc an out if he was busy with something but decided he didn’t really care. He’d probably just woken up too. Since he had been up late, a little more time to snooze wouldn’t hurt him. Marty had stopped letting himself actively worry about Doc’s sleeping habits ages ago. The guy just didn’t seem human sometimes and there was usually no making him do something he didn’t want to. Occasionally, however, the opportunity presented itself to bully Doc into relaxing a bit.

They tentatively let the distance between them close. Marty’s bare legs brushed against Doc’s, and Doc’s hand rested between his shoulder blades just above his sports bra. While he didn’t like the increased awareness of his body, the physical contact made Marty melt. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had half this much surface area being touched at once. Immediately, he buried his face in Doc’s chest and inhaled. The scent wasn’t one he had a name for, but it was Doc, and the morning, and the light particles of dust that settled on everything through the night. He was sure he’d like to hold Doc like Doc was holding him right now, but their height difference made that more of an effort than he was willing to deal with at the moment.

“Alright there, cowboy?” Doc said, fondness dripping from his tongue.

Marty nodded, not wanting to let go to sign his response. He was already falling back to sleep. Hopefully this time it would be deeper and dreamless. Maybe when he woke up he’d be up for conversation and some movement. He was glad he had taken this chance. Of course, he could rely on Doc. It had been silly to ever doubt that. He should tell Doc about his voice soon. There was no avoiding it forever and since two people knew now, it would be better to have someone on his side who could actually help him. Maybe Doc could even cure him. Hell, if he could get Marty to be okay with his body he could probably help him control his voice. Marty just had to trust him.

Shadows tickled Marty’s nose the next time he woke up. The sun was setting. Doc wasn’t beside him anymore, and the vacuum he left was already filled in with Marty’s own body heat. Einstein whined by the door. Marty sat up and surveyed the garage, trying to decide if Emmett was just tucked under some stray mess or if he had actually left the lot. The place was cleaner than usual still, but signs of the old clutter were starting to reappear on the tables and along the walls. Einstein’s tail thumped on the concrete when Marty’s bare feet hit the floor.

There wasn’t any sign of a note, but knowing Doc it was probably still in his pocket wherever he was. Marty took a quick trip to the bathroom and rummaged around for the ibuprofen he’d been taking. He rolled his eyes when he found it underneath three other empty bottles. Out of curiosity, he checked the expiration date printed on the bottom of the bottle: MAR 3, 1982. Yeah, that sounded about right. Cleaning out the medicine cabinet hadn’t been on Doc’s sudden cleaning spree list apparently. Marty took two of the pills anyway, although his head was much clearer than it had been earlier.

After a couple of hours of trying to keep busy without anything too strenuous, Marty was bored and worried. It was after dark and when he had taken Einstein out to pee the van had been sitting there in the driveway. Emmett wasn’t driving, but he had been gone for ages without any warning. He was probably fine, Marty reassured himself, Doc did this all the time. He tapped his toes on the floor rapidly, waiting to be calmed by the thought. Thirty seconds later he was on his feet, putting on his jacket and vest.

“Einie, you wait here in case he comes back,” Marty said, blocking the big dog from following him out the door.

Street lights kept most of the town walkable. There were patches of darkness that Marty avoided like puddles of water, but they were few and far between. He wasn’t really looking for Doc but walking seemed like a good way to get his nervous energy out. If Doc still wasn’t back in the morning he would let himself be concerned. For now, he enjoyed the cool air and the rare sensation of not suffocating under all his layers. He hardly noticed how heavy they were anymore until he got a break from the heat. Fall was finally starting to come on in earnest. Rotting jack o’ lanterns were interspersed in people’s yards with much friendlier scarecrows and straw bales.

While it wasn’t cold enough for Marty to see fog on his breath yet, the chill scraped at his lungs when he inhaled. He took a deep breath to savor the feeling, turning a corner to go around the back sides of the row of buildings he just passed. A faint throbbing was reemerging in his scalp and it was probably time to head back to the garage. Doc would probably be there waiting for him, just as worried as Marty had been. He exhaled, dissatisfied with the growing warmth.

Rattling from the darkness ahead of him caught his attention. Behind the commercial dumpster, he could barely make out a shadow rummaging around. It was probably a raccoon, but Marty cursed himself for risking the darker route. Fingers of light from the storefront reached back but stopped abruptly well above the sheltered asphalt. His nerves plucked themselves in G Minor as he got closer and realized the shadow was much, much too big to be a raccoon. A dumpster diver then, surely still not a threat. Marty wished suddenly for the knife Linda had offered him when he started skating to school.
The figure stood up abruptly, hearing Marty’s footsteps approaching. They stood stock-still and staring for a moment until a passing car’s headlights snuck through the alley to illuminate their faces: Marty’s attempt at a scowl, then a dark mask that reflected more light than it absorbed. Shock swung like a bat at Marty’s confusion. The masked man from the bank was standing in front of him.

“Shit,” they said in unison, Marty’s hands moving before he could think, and then the masked man turned on his heel and sprinted down the alley away from him.

For a moment Marty just blinked in amazement as the guy jumped up to grab a fire escape ladder, kicked his feet wildly in an attempt to climb it, and then gave up and kept running. The man threw himself into the ditch between the store lot and the residences on the other side, rolling down the gentle slope and scrambling up the other side. Marty’s adrenaline kicked in and he started backpedaling so fast he tripped over his own untied shoelaces and had to throw his arms out to keep from hitting his head on the ground once again.

The impact still jarred him enough that the headache made a sudden and powerful resurgence. Marty winced and scrambled to his feet, racing to the front of the building as fast as he could. He caught his breath tucked inside the doorway of a hardware store. Laughter hesitated on the back of his tongue. The masked man had to have recognized him, there was no other reason for him to have run. But despite the inherent threat of that fact, Marty couldn’t get over just how ungraceful the guy was. It was a full 180 from their conflict in the bank, where the man acted like he owned the world.

Try as he might, Marty couldn’t figure out what the hell the guy would have been doing in a dumpster behind a hardware store at midnight. Now that he thought about it, why was the guy in Hill Valley at all? Marty pushed himself away from the wall and tried to focus on the impact of his feet on the ground as he walked. The pain in his head receded microscopically after every step. The man lived here. It was the only explanation. He was one of the people Marty walked past every day. He tried to wrack his brain for anyone that tall he had seen in the past few days. Besides Doc, who he dismissed quickly, the only options coming to mind were Strickland and Biff.

It could easily have been someone Marty didn’t know, he reasoned but kept turning those two options over in his mind. If Biff had that kind of power there was no way it would be a secret, and Strickland, well, Marty couldn’t imagine him having the flexibility to break a law with that stick so far up his ass. Still, the vice principal might be worth further investigation. He kicked himself for not considering the possibility sooner, but it honestly hadn’t crossed his mind that the masked man was a person and not some extra-dimensional creature that only popped into existence to commit crimes and say dumb shit to teenagers.

Light shone through the garage window when Marty finally reached it, feet and head aching. He fell through the door and the first thing he saw was Doc with the phone receiver in his hand. Relief flooded up from his toes and nearly dragged him down to the floor. So much for not being worried about him, but at least he was here now. Doc looked up and saw Marty staring at him with wide eyes and dropped the receiver. The clatter of it hitting the table and then the floor startled him, and he hastily picked it back up and slammed it on the base.

“Marty!” Doc said from where he stood, making no move towards Marty. “You know you shouldn’t walk so far in your condition, I was just about to call your parents and see if you’d gone home.”

Marty shook his head and made a beeline for the bathroom. After slamming back more painkillers he went back to Doc. “Come on Doc, I didn’t go that far. Anyway, you didn’t leave a note so what was I supposed to do?”

Somehow that shut him up. He still hadn’t moved from where he was standing, with the phone shoved behind him now. Marty rolled his shoulders and shrugged out of his jacket. It didn’t really matter now. Doc was back and safe.

“By the way, you know those robberies a while back? I ran into the guy who did them.”

Doc choked and turned to brace himself on the table, shoving things around loudly. He caught his breath with a wheeze. Marty raised his eyebrow.

“You recognized him? He uh… didn’t do anything to you did he?”

Maybe Marty should have left that part out. Emmett had been flustered before but now he looked unhinged. That was fair, probably. Running into a dangerous robber with apparent superpowers was a little more serious than most nighttime encounters. They hadn’t discussed his appearance or abilities on the news, but the robberies themselves had been a big story for a week or so after they happened. With nothing new, the story had died down. Seeing the guy was a big deal for several reasons, now that he thought about it.

Still, he shrugged. “Yeah, he just ran away. Acted like an idiot. He must live around here, I can’t think of another reason he’d still be around.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Doc’s voice was up half an octave. “You know what they say, don’t shit where you eat!”

Marty laughed at that. “I dunno, Doc, if he’s eating out of a dumpster behind Harvey’s then he’s probably not too worried about it.”

Back down to his underwear, he perched on the edge of Doc’s bed. Doc started to say something but his mouth just hung open when he noticed Marty’s current position. He shut it quickly and turned around. Marty frowned. He waited for Doc to remember they couldn’t talk if he wasn’t looking at Marty. The initial embarrassment passed and Doc faced him again, arms crossed over his chest, keeping his eyes on Marty’s hands.

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” Marty said, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest that had appeared at Doc’s reaction. “Not like we’re together or anything.”

Emmett blinked, then visibly relaxed. “Right, of course.”

His voice was low, a tone Marty hadn’t heard before from him. Still too wired from his day-long nap to sleep, he considered asking if Doc would want to make out. Was that something he’d be into or would Marty seem like a stupid kid? Eighteen or not, he and Jen had never gone past second base when they were together and he’d been glad when she said it was like kissing her sibling. Doc hadn’t been involved with anyone as long as they’d known each other, and he never talked about anyone from the past, but still, who knew what kind of experience he’d racked up.

Doc scratched his nose awkwardly and then recrossed his arms. “Marty, would you,” He paused, mouth working as though trying to stop him from letting his next words rush out, “be receptive to the traditional courting behavior of extended physical contact that includes kissing in a horizontal position? Perhaps on the bed or couch if you prefer... ”

Emmett trailed off into a shy murmur, face now bright red, and refusing to make eye contact. Marty couldn’t believe his luck at having been spared the embarrassment of asking himself. He nodded quickly and couldn’t stop the squeak he made when Doc launched towards him and stumbled into the bed on top of him. The sudden weight of hands and lips overwhelmed his senses, rough palms in contrast with the cool sheets underneath. He smiled into the kiss, just happy to be living in this moment.

Laying together on the bed, Marty held Doc’s face in his hands and savored the taste of his lips. They broke apart to breathe and Marty ran his hands down Emmett’s neck to his chest. Marty wanted to capture the look Emmett was giving him in a bottle. He would take sips of it whenever he was alone. The heat built between them as they continued, and Marty could feel Doc start to get half-hard against his leg. The inevitable thought of what came next popped into his head. It was exciting, arousing, and he wanted it. So what was this tightness in his gut all about? Why was he suddenly afraid?

Pressure on Marty’s chest made him realize Doc’s hand was now cupping his breast. He had been too distracted to protest. Marty leaned into it for a blissful second, the sensation initially eliciting a bone-deep hunger. It quickly became nausea. Anguish struck him through the chest like an arrow and he flinched back from Doc’s touch. Doc froze and moved back, concern obvious in his eyes. Marty tried to keep his body from trembling, separating from every point of physical contact between them. Everything hurt underneath the skin, somewhere between the bones and the surface.

“Marty, what’s wrong,” Emmett asked, gently, and somehow that made it worse.

Marty shook his head. He couldn’t sign, couldn’t talk. His skin was eating him alive, and all he could do was let it. There was no way out of this body. There was no way to stop touching everything all at once.

The bed creaked as Emmett sat up and straightened out his clothing. Marty curled in on himself a little tighter, just glad Doc wasn’t touching him anymore. He concentrated on the smell of the sheets and tried to shut out everything else. They needed to be washed, he thought absently. Doc was probably pissed that he’d chickened out like that and ruined the mood. This had happened with Jen too, once or twice. She’d been decent but he knew it was frustrating for her, so it had to be for Doc. Marty wanted to scream. He wished he understood what was happening and why; he wanted to name the thing crawling in his flesh so badly.

“I’m sorry if this is something I’ve done,” Doc said quietly, though it still hurt Marty’s ears. “I’ll stay beside you until you’re able to say what it is that you need.”

The guilt in Doc’s voice broke Marty’s heart. It wasn’t his fault at all, not by a long shot. It was something wrong with him, not Doc. On top of everything else, he couldn’t even make out with his boyfriend without freaking out. He’d be lucky if Doc ever touched him again. It took a full minute of shouting at himself inside his head, but he finally managed to uncrunch one of his legs. The rest of his body followed much more easily. He stretched out, shaking his wrists and rolling his neck to work out the kinks. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Doc, who hadn’t moved from beside him.

“Marty, I ought to have asked permission before touching you like that, I’m sorry,” Doc said. “Could you describe what’s happening?”

Kindness was the last thing Marty deserved right now. But Emmett deserved as much honesty as he could give. He shrugged. “Wish I knew, Doc. Just shut down like that when someone touches me weird, even if I want it. Thought it might be different with you.”

Emmett nodded, thinking it over. “We have all the time in the world to consider solutions if you would like to, for now, why don’t we get some sleep. Where would you prefer I spend the night?”

At that moment Marty was pretty sure he could say the moon and Doc would try his best to get there before dawn. The weight of Doc’s acceptance was almost too much to bear. He knew better than anyone how fucked up and broken Marty was. It was too hard to understand why Emmett didn’t seem to care. Marty knew he didn’t feel this way most of the time, and that he should be accepted for who he was, but moments like this were just climbing out of a pit on a pile of all the good intentions people had ever had for him.

“Stay, if you want,” Marty said.

Emmett settled back under the sheets and turned to face Marty without touching him. “I’ll be right here.”

The darkness receded a little, and Marty was grateful to have him nearby. After all that, he was more than ready to let sleep take him back for a while.

Chapter Text

True to his word, Doc was still there in the morning when Marty woke up. The hair on the right side of his head was sticking straight out, giving Doc the impression of a man who had just stuck his fingers in a light socket. He was snoring softly but jerked awake when Marty reached out to touch his face. His first reaction was to smile and put his hand over top of Marty’s. Marty watched dust motes float between them and let himself drift into the hazy space between waking and sleep that always haunted the first moments of morning. He was happy. He was glad that Doc had let him stay.

The furious knocking hit them both like a bucket of ice water and Marty threw himself over the side of the bed. He landed on all floors and looked around desperately for his pants. Doc was equally frantic, nearly tripping over his own slipper as he wheeled around making sure the place was presentable. Marty gave up buttoning his shirt when he realized he was at least two buttons off-center, it was good enough to hide under his jacket so that’s what he did. The knocking took a brief pause before resuming with a new intensity, and Marty gave Doc a thumbs up before sitting heavily on the edge of the bed and taking a deep breath to prepare for whoever came through that door.

Lorraine Baines McFly had very rarely been inside Doc Brown’s garage. She had visited once early on when one of her ‘friends’ suggested she might want to make sure it was a safe place for Marty to work. She looked just as out of place now as she did then: awkward and wanting to get the interaction over with as quickly as possible. As soon as she saw Marty sitting disheveled on the bed, she rushed over and fussed over him, patting his hair into something slightly tamer. The ferocity of her entrance immediately disintegrated into something restrained and clucking. The guilt Marty almost felt upon leaving came back in earnest.

“What am I going to do with you, young lady,” Lorraine said, all but pulling Marty up by his jacket and moving with purpose towards the door. “Apologize to Dr. Brown, this has gone on quite long enough. I can’t believe you ran out on him too.”

“Sorry,” Emmett signed to him, knowing Lorraine wouldn’t catch it.

Doc watched the ground like he was the one being chastised. Marty wanted to feel betrayed, but considering how the day before had gone calling his mother was the least Doc would have been justified in doing. Marty couldn’t blame him for worrying. He realized he’d never gotten a chance to tell Doc the full story of what had happened besides his mother’s nebulous ‘accident.’ Whoops. Add it to the pile of things about which he should absolutely be communicating better.

Obediently, Marty apologized to Doc for the trouble with a few extra sentences tossed in to make sure Doc knew he was okay and that they would talk more later. He felt better today, but he knew better than to push himself. Nothing strenuous until Monday, at least in theory. If the masked guy was back in town his luck might not hold for that long. Although, as he apologized repeatedly to his irate mother on the way home, it did occur to him that he’d had to seek out this guy every time they’d run into each other. Maybe avoiding him would be easier than he thought.

The house was busy when they got back. Dave was snoring loudly enough that you could hear it down the hall. Linda was chattering on the phone about some new magazine article to her friends on the party line. Whatever George was watching on TV was making a concerted effort to drown out the rest of it. Sounded like home as far as Marty was concerned. He tried to make it up to his mother by pretending to mix her a drink- he just handed her a glass of orange juice and tonic and she was tired enough to take it whether she noticed or not- and tidying the kitchen a bit. They were going to have to make a grocery run soon, he noticed when he put the juice back in the fridge.

The rest of the weekend went by in a blur of naps and math. Jen brought the homework he had missed over Friday afternoon and he attempted to work on it between meals until his head started to hurt again and he gave up for a few hours. By Sunday he could almost get through the entire workbook set from Chemistry in one go. Grades weren’t really heavy on his mind so it wasn’t like he made an effort to get the problems right, he just wanted them to be done. Anyway, if the three of them were going to study together properly he oughta at least pretend to be prepared.

There was no reason for him to have worried since the second he brought up the masked man Jennifer and Tiff were both bombarding him with questions. It was all they wanted to talk about. Jen was a little concerned for Marty’s safety, but it was clear the two of them were just hungry for more information about Hill Valley’s resident mystery. Marty shyly suggested his theory about the guy living nearby and lightbulbs went off over their heads.

“Well, we’ve gotta find him!” Tiff was the first to jump on the idea. “If we can figure out his secret identity we can stop him!”

“Turn him over to the police seems like a better option,” Jen suggested. “But I gotta admit, Marty, I don’t know if we should be messing with this. You still don’t know anything about him.”

It was a fair enough concern. The guy had a gun and was willing to use it. However, Marty found it a lot harder to be afraid of the guy after his performance the other night. He was probably just some guy who found himself with weird powers looking for something interesting to do. Still, there was something nagging him about the whole thing. There was something he was missing, besides all the obvious things. If he lived nearby it might be a good idea to investigate just to figure out what that was. And still… there was the guy who had gotten shot because Marty hadn’t stopped this guy in time. He deserved some closure.

“If we find out who he is we can learn the rest, right?” Marty offered. “You guys don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to. I gotta do something.”

‘Something’ started with checking out the place Marty had seen the guy rummaging through the trash behind the hardware store. It was a little busier early in the evening, but that was for the best. Jennifer suggested that if something had been left there when Marty interrupted, they didn’t want to risk another encounter before he was ready. Tiff accompanied him to the site, carrying Jen’s old pocket dictionary as a translator despite her insistence that she didn’t mind if he talked to her.

“So what’s the deal with your voice, anyway?” Tiff asked as she climbed over the side of the dumpster. “Shit, it smells horrible in here.”

Marty ignored Tiff’s question, she was just gonna have to figure out that he couldn’t talk to her while she wasn’t looking. Now that she knew the temptation of speaking out loud was heavy, but he didn’t want to risk it until he understood it better. One of these days he was going to have time to talk to Doc about it for real, today just wasn’t going to be it. He ran through the list of smart comebacks he was gonna use once the people he wanted to say them to would understand him. Smirking to himself, he kept looking.

Judging by the dull clang of Tiff’s feet hitting metal, Marty guessed that garbage had already been collected. That narrowed their search options at least. He busied himself with the stacks of old newspaper ads piled in bales by the back door. If he remembered correctly, this was about where the masked man had been before he noticed Marty. Nothing seemed to jump out at him other than the faint concern that the hardware store maybe wasn’t doing such great business if all these ads had gone to waste like this. Harvey’s was where he and Doc got most of their supplies for stuff. Hell, 90% of his amp had been built from Harvey’s. A lot of places had been going out of business lately ever since Twin Pines Mall had been built, and he’d hate to add this one to the list.

“Hey!” Tiff yelled to get his attention, leaning over the lip of the dumpster to wave at him. “Well? What’s the deal?”

Marty could have sworn they’d already covered that, but then again who knew. It was a lot to take in, to be entirely fair. “I told you, I control people,” he reminded her, trying to use as few words as possible so she wouldn’t have to look a ton up.

After working out the meaning, Tiff shook her head. “Nah, I mean why’s it so high? Late bloomer or something?”

“High?” Marty just blinked in confusion and repeated the word back to her.

“I mean, you’re a dude but you’ve got such a… it’s not even girly it’s just a pretty voice, you know? Is that like a side effect of the power or is it from not talking or what?”

Frowning, Marty signed, “Side effect?”

Tiff leafed through the dictionary, then shrugged and jumped up to swing back over to the ground. “No need to be sensitive, I was just curious. Wasn’t gonna tease you about it. Guess it makes sense why pop’s is always calling you a girl though since he would’ve heard you before you shut up. Asshole.”

Huh. Tiff really thought he was a guy; she genuinely believed he was a man. Despite Biff’s best efforts to blow his cover, she wasn’t humoring him or just playing along to keep the peace. She had no idea he wasn’t the same as a normal guy, that (as the therapist his parents had forced him to see for two months had put it) he was really just a lesbian with penis envy. Doc’s casual and continuous acceptance was one (albeit incredible) thing, but this? Euphoria bubbled in his chest and he couldn’t stop the stupid grin from covering his face. If he cried now he would ruin it, so he kept that in check at least.

If Marty hadn’t been sure before, this combined with the way it had felt to hear Doc call him gay for being with him really sealed the deal. He wasn’t a lesbian. He wasn’t confused. He was just… a man. If Tiff was the only person in the world who ever got that right on the first try it was still worth it. Marty sure as hell wasn’t gonna correct her. Maybe there were other people like him. It could be worth looking into, once this was dealt with.

“What’s this?” Tiff grabbed something from between two piles of newspaper and held it up. “Look like anything to you?”

In her hand was a fancy engraved pen. The masked guy could have dropped it when Marty spooked him. Marty took it and turned it over, examining it. Blood drained from his face. He recognized this pen and the initials along the side. He knew exactly who this belonged to but he couldn’t bring himself to believe it was possible. If they were going to keep investigating him, this meant Marty would have to be all the more careful. Reporting the guy to the authorities had just dropped from the first choice to method of last resort.

“Good find, seriously,” he told Tiff and then tucked the pen into his jacket pocket before she could get a closer look at it. “Let’s keep looking.”

Tiff grinned, pleased at having been the one to find something first. She dove back into the newspaper piles, moving each aside to check between all the rows. Marty wracked his brain to try and figure why the hell this of all things would be back here. He examined the papers to see if there was anything relevant in the ads themselves. Maybe Doc could tell him, but Marty couldn’t see anything besides your standard set of discount and sale notices. A few of the top pages had items circled, but not enough to be a pattern he could discern.

They spent a full hour and a half digging around behind the store before they both got so bored they couldn’t stand it anymore. The initial rush of finding something had worn off; with the sun setting rapidly, finding something else became less likely with every passing minute. It had at least offered them a chance to talk, get to know each other a little better. Marty learned that Tiff loved chemistry and bugs, and he told her about his music and his friendship with Doc. The conversation was still halting and difficult, but he could at least fall back on hand spelling if needed. She was picking up the alphabet and basics quicker than he’d expected.

It was nice- that she was trying so hard. Jen and Doc were really the only ones who had made a significant effort to communicate with him the past few years. He could write out whatever he wanted to other people, but that took a long time and they usually ended up frustrated. His parents hadn’t even bothered to learn the alphabet. The number of times they’d tried to refuse to take his notes or let Linda translate and just stood there staring, trying to take away all his options so he would have to speak, crushed him. So having someone new to talk to was refreshing, to say the least.

Even knowing he should probably be more chill about it, especially now, Marty couldn’t stop himself from going on about Doc a little. What could he do? The guy was cool, and a genius, and even if he couldn’t talk about all the new stuff he felt lucky just to be able to talk about him at all. Marty wanted Tiff to like Doc because he wanted Tiff to like him, and Doc was a big part of him. To her credit, she was mostly patient with his rambling even when he went a little too fast for her to keep up. She seemed interested in Doc’s experiments especially.

“I’d love to get my hands on some of that equipment sometime,” she said, “Think he’d show me how it works?”

Marty considered. “I guess he wouldn’t mind. I’ll ask him sometime.”

“Perfect. It’s cool you guys are friends, and he has his own place and all that.”

Yeah. It was good to have a place to get away. Marty knew that’s what she was thinking when she said that. It was what he would be thinking. He wished he could offer her something like it. A stray cloud passed over the sun, encouraging the encroaching twilight to leap forward. “We better get going. One lead is better than nothing,” he stood and beckoned Tiff towards the alley back to the main sidewalk.

Despite her initial protests, Marty managed to convince her that their time would be better spent on what they had already uncovered. She went on ahead of him towards her own house. Marty was grateful that she was willing to walk home alone. He could keep as much distance between himself and Biff as possible. From what he knew about her, Tiff could take care of herself well enough anyway. Marty needed the time to think. He ran half the way home.

So much didn’t make sense. His impression of the masked man thus far didn’t mesh at all with the information he had. Finding that pen was worse than nothing. But he couldn’t justify it. The closer he got to his house, the worse he felt. Marty would have to look into it, but he wasn’t happy about it. No wonder the masked man had recognized him, no wonder he had acted like such an idiot in the moment. If this was really the answer, Marty never should have asked the fucking question.

Checking the garage when he walked up, it looked like Dave had already taken the car to his shift at the pizza place. That meant everyone else was home. Marty swallowed hard and went inside, following the sound of the tv to the dinner table where his mother had left a plate out for him. He sat and dug in, suddenly starving. His eyes kept going back to the recliner where his dad sat laughing at some sitcom. The pen was heavy in Marty’s pocket. The engraving “G. McFly” circled his head like cartoon stars.

Chapter Text

Once again, Marty was in over his head. If it hadn’t been clear before it was wildly clear now. He typed desperately into his calculator, hoping somehow to come up with a different number than the one he had already gotten. He couldn’t be sure, but it just… didn’t seem like the right answer. He let out a breath and wrote it down anyway, praying that either it was right or he’d make it through enough questions that it wouldn’t matter. Pre-calc was definitely going to be his worst midterm grade. Glancing furtively over at Jen he was dismayed to see that she was already a page ahead of him, with no way for him to spy on her answers for the previous questions.

The bell rang with two questions left to go, so he wrote down the first things that popped into his head and dropped his pencil. He threw his head back and sank through the hole in the desk until his knees were on the floor and his back was contorted into an exceptionally uncomfortable limbo position. Dramatic? Maybe. But he was feeling some kind of way and it needed to be expressed. Jennifer laughed at him as he tried unsuccessfully to extricate himself. She grabbed his test off the desk and took it with hers up to the front. Marty snorted and slid out sideways onto the floor, pushing up to his feet just in time to be knocked over by Needle’s shoulder to his chest.

Scowling, Marty got up again, brushing the dirt and lint off his pant legs. Needles’ friends laughed and followed him out the door. He still wasn’t brave enough to confront Marty directly, at least, but these little jabs and hits were getting more and more common. Marty jumped at Jen’s hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s get out of here,” her own look was pretty venomous, and she held tight to his hand as they walked out the door.

Outside, the sky was overcast and a cool breeze brought goosebumps to Marty’s skin. He shivered. Jennifer kept glancing at him, anticipating a conversation. Marty sighed and removed his hands from his pockets. He had to give her something. He signed, “I haven’t found anything yet if that’s what you’re about to ask me.”

Jennifer seemed suspicious, but she didn’t press the issue further. “Well, if you come up with anything you know where to find me.”

It was a lie, of course. The pen was identical to the two others that his dad had gotten for Christmas from his father. They were years old, and such a distinct feature of Marty’s mental image of his dad sitting at his desk that he’d hardly had to look. He only ever used them for personal projects, the stuff he never let anyone read. Now Marty was wondering if they had been evil plans all along.
Knowing his dad, it would take years to come up with even a garbage scheme like the ones he’d attempted. But still. It was circumstantial, right? That was what they called it. It certainly wasn’t rock-solid proof that his dad was an armed robber.

Either way, his dad was gone to San Francisco until Wednesday on an extended business trip. “Team building,” he had called it, “synergistics.” All just code for bullshit meetings meant to keep employees from being able to sue them for unethical business practices probably. Marty liked to imagine they spent the whole week in front of a spinning hypnotism screen with shit like “close the deal” and “50% off” cycling across it. That would be about as soul-sucking as George made it out to be. Unfortunately, any investigations were on pause until he got back. Marty couldn’t exactly grill him on his alibi from a hundred miles away.

Marty didn’t even bother going home. With his dad gone, Linda staying with a girlfriend, and Dave working a double, there wasn’t a border between him and his mother. With Thanksgiving coming up in a couple days she was going into full disaster prep mode and Marty wasn’t about to pick up the slack and run damage control this time. They’d done their grocery shopping on Sunday there wasn’t much left to do anyway. If she needed help Dave would have to get his shit together for once. Wouldn’t kill him to learn how to do laundry.

“I’ll be out tomorrow,” Doc said as soon as Marty walked through the door. “Just some errands to run, nothing interesting.”

Doc’s voice cracked on his head like eggs. Marty had managed to work himself up into a low simmering anger that took up all his focus, and Emmett’s words yanked him back to the present abruptly. It took a few seconds to catch up to what he’d actually said.

“Wha… Oh, no problem,” Marty said. “Einstein going or what?”

“No, since you’ll be here I assumed it would be alright to leave him with you.” Emmett was hardly looking at him, doing calculations in his head, and writing on an imaginary whiteboard with his finger. “It should only take a few hours. I’ll call if something goes wrong.”

That was a weird thing to say and Marty frowned as Doc turned back around to scribble down whatever numbers he’d worked out. Einstein trotted over and whined, probably aware they were talking about him. Marty scratched behind his ears and threw his backpack on the table. Thanksgiving break started tomorrow. Marty had been looking forward to spending a day with Doc without having midterms or his mother breathing down his neck. They needed to talk. There was so much that he needed to say. The sudden change of plans sucked, but he’d see Doc on Friday for their annual Thanksgiving leftovers meal. A couple of days wouldn’t make anything weirder at this point.

Study stress finally caught up to Marty and he went to bed early with a book. Jules Verne, ‘Journey to The Center of The Earth’: one of Doc’s favorites. He’d started reading it months ago and kept forgetting to pick it back up. Not that it wasn’t interesting; it was fine as far as books that communicated in letters and sentences went. Marty would just zone out and reread the same page over and over until he got frustrated and gave up. He’d gotten through a third of it in one sitting but he hadn’t managed more progress since. It was nice that Doc didn’t give him any deadlines. Reading the notes he had made in the margins was Marty’s favorite part. He could always hear them in Doc’s voice.

“Marty,” Emmett’s voice jolted him out of focus for the second time and his irritation flared back up. “We never got a chance to talk about what happened the other night. Or your injury.”

When he looked up, he saw that Doc had dragged himself away from his desk and was holding his hands together firmly in his lap. He was offering his full attention. Suddenly, Marty had no idea what to do with it. He grinned and shrugged, trying to play off his awkwardness.

“Got in a fight with Tannen, hit my head,” Marty said, that was easy enough anyway. Wasn’t even one of his typical impulsive brawls. “He was giving Tiff shit.”

Doc nodded, expression turning serious. “I’m glad you avoided more serious injury. And that your friends were unharmed.” He grabbed the bottom of his chair and scooted closer. “Marty, promise you’ll be careful when it comes to dealing with Biff. He’s very good at pushing your buttons especially.”

Marty rolled his eyes but smiled at Doc’s concern. They both knew well enough about Biff pushing his buttons. As far as Tannen was concerned, Marty was just another George McFly. Better than Biff seeing him as a mini Lorraine, he thought and winced. “Yeah, alright, Doc.”

“And the other night… Marty, are things alright between us?”

This was harder. Marty wasn’t sure he could put it into words. He wasn’t sure he had the words. It was just the way his body was. It had happened more when he was little, but it could still get to that total shutdown point when he was stressed. Especially with sexual stuff, Marty had been kicking himself for pushing it so fast. He ought to know better, even with his limited experience. He was glad
Emmett hadn’t been the one pushing.

“That wasn’t your fault, Doc,” he said, “Just got heavy and I couldn’t handle it. I’ll take it slower next time, keep you updated.”

“You want there to be a next time?”

“Yeah!” Marty hadn’t even considered that would be a question, of course he did. “I just gotta figure out how I work, you know?”

Emmett smiled, relieved that he hadn’t done lasting damage to their relationship. “Of course, Marty, we’ll approach this however you prefer.” His eyes nearly twinkled. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

With a gentle squeeze on Marty’s shoulder, Doc went back to his work. Marty briefly considered bringing up the other thing he needed to tell Doc about, but his eyes felt heavier by the second, and Doc was already completely immersed in his project. It would be a pain to break him out of his concentration and it would probably take half the night to explain anyway. Nah, he could save this for Friday. He made another attempt at the book but fell asleep with it open on his chest. Doc walked by and picked it up, marking Marty’s place before placing it on the shelf. He brushed Marty’s hair back out of his face on his way back to the desk.

To Marty’s disappointment, Doc was already gone when he woke up the next morning. Other than a faint memory of being prodded over and warmth beside him, Marty wouldn’t have been sure Doc ever went to sleep. Marty groaned and vaulted out of bed, borrowing Doc’s too big slippers to take Einstein outside. After some time in the cool morning air and good scratch, they both went back inside. Marty turned on the coffee maker and the tv (conveniently with the same button, although it did mean they had to drink coffee any time they wanted to watch television). It started up on the news. Doc liked to watch the weather first thing in the morning.

Just as he was about to change the channel, a breaking news alert popped up and caught his attention.

Breaking News: Robbery Underway at San Francisco Research Facility

Marty’s stomach sank when he saw the location. He turned the volume up and kept watching, unsure of whether or not he wanted to actually see any more. Einstein settled into his bed beside the television set.

The newscaster was a woman in her thirties, wearing a blazer over a smart shirt. She was polished. She looked scared. “We have a developing hostage situation at the Monasco research facility just outside of San Francisco.” She checked her notes again. “A lone gunman has entered the premises and appears to have, I’m sorry, Nick am I reading this right?”

The screen cut to a live feed of a man in front of what must be the facility, standing with a guy in a lab coat and a gaggle of SWAT officers in the background. “Yes, Deb, I’m afraid you are. According to my friend here,” he gestured to the man in the lab coat, who was clutching a towel to a cut on his head, “the gunman appears to have essentially frozen time in a localized area, complicating any attempts at resolving the situation.”

“So how did we come to this conclusion, Nick? Because that’s… that shouldn’t be possible, should it? How does someone stop time?” Deb’s voice was cut through with faint static.

Nick consulted with the scientist then held the microphone back up to his face. “So there’s something called a temporal distortion happening in a thirty-foot radius around the main building. As you enter the radius, you would experience no difference from your own perspective, but to us, it looks like you’re slowing down to a standstill. It’s not affecting the rest of us because the distortion field gets weaker from its origin point, which we assume is somewhere inside. The gunman is unaffected by this field.”

“Has anyone identified him yet?” Marty flinched at Deb’s next question.

“Not yet, although we’re receiving a report of something similar in the town of Hill Valley, about a hundred miles northeast of us. A bank robbery with one injury when a security guard was shot with a blank round. He survived but was unable to give a clear description of our subject. Neither were the fifteen other witnesses questioned by local police. He was wearing some kind of disguise… almost like a supervillain.”

Behind them, on the live feed, Marty saw the large bay door open and the hooded man walk out. He wanted to yell, scream, anything. No one would be able to hear him. If he’d been brave enough to say something to his dad sooner maybe this wouldn’t have happened. The scientist turned slowly and pointed, shouting something indistinct. The reporter, Nick, started to turn but something was wrong. He was moving so slowly. The scientist now, his mouth hanging open in a caricature of fear, seemed frozen in place. Gunshots echoed dully. The hooded man got closer. Then the image froze.

Marty jumped to his feet and shouted, startling Einstein. Deb the anchorwoman was frantically repeating Nick’s name, asking what was going on. No one seemed to know what to do. Deb was getting frantic when they finally cut her mic. He was frozen, only moving when Einstein came over to shove his head into Marty’s hands. He pet Einstein listlessly as an apology for disturbing him but kept his eyes glued to the screen. An eternity passed in the span of thirty seconds. Marty let out the breath he’d been holding when the picture flickered again as the hooded man vanished and everyone started moving at half speed, then full speed.

The two men continued their motion undisturbed, looking back at the now open door. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete walls, passing through the air where a man had been moments before. SWAT immediately mobilized to sweep the building, and after reassurance that everything was fine, the screen cut back to Deb. She was definitely more frazzled than she had been at the start of the broadcast, and faint smudges under her eye betrayed the attempt she made at a neutral expression.

“We’ll be updating the story as we get more information. For now, that’s all we have. This is Deb Jennings, signing off.”

With that, the broadcast ended and regular programming resumed. The sudden tone shift made Marty dizzy and he turned the television off. He would check back later to make sure no one had died. It might be important to find out what had been stolen, but he wasn’t sure they’d broadcast that information anyway. He’d heard enough. He could just ask his dad when he got back anyway. Marty wasn’t sure if it was fear or anger bubbling in his chest, but it tasted an awful lot like stomach acid either way.

After a granola bar and coffee to settle his stomach, Marty leashed Einstein and set out for a walk. He spent a good three hours just wandering the neighborhood. Unable to do anything productive and unable to relax, it felt good to just move. Thanks to the cooling fall air, Einstein didn’t wear out as fast as he usually did. He was still panting and dragging by the time Marty finally relented and took them both home. Blisters were forming on his ankles and he was just getting more irritated from it than he had been.

Noisy gulps came from both of them as they drank out of their respective drinking implements. Marty wiped the sweat from his forehead and sat his glass on the counter with a sigh. He was just about to grab Journey to The Center of The Earth again when he heard a motor pull up outside. Glancing out the window, he saw it was Doc’s van. He opened the door and nearly fell when Einstein rushed out past his legs. Doc’s hair was wilder than usual and he held up a finger at Marty to wait before ducking back into the back of the van. A few moments later Emmett jumped out the back and slammed the doors shut, locking it behind him. Einstein wiggled at his heels.

Upon turning around and making eye contact with Marty, a weight seemed to drop from Doc’s shoulders. He smiled and tugged at his shirt, which was buttoned crookedly all the way up. Giving into Einstein’s demands for attention, Doc looked away and crouched down to play with him for a moment. Marty noticed a smear of soot on his cheek and smirked. Emmett really couldn’t go a few hours without getting into a mess. Einstein caught him by the sleeve and drug him towards the house. Doc laughed at the dog and slung his arm around Marty on his way in.

“You’re a mess, Doc, come on,” Marty said, then reached up to wipe off Doc’s face. “Did you even eat anything today?”

Emmett blinked at him, “It hadn’t yet occurred to me to do so.”

Rolling his eyes, Marty continued, “Errand go alright?”

Marty was rewarded for that question with a stunning smile. “Yes. Almost perfectly. I’ll be able to take the next steps in setting up my experiments now.”

“First you’re gonna shower, right?” Marty wanted to think about anything besides the news report and the sudden image of Emmett naked under hot water was certainly filling the gap.

“That’s not a bad idea, Marty,” Doc said, having just scratched his head and noticed the dust piling up on his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

The particles scattered when Doc stripped out of his shirt. The swirling cloud made Marty and Einstein both sneeze. Marty smirked and followed Doc to the bathroom. What better way to get his mind off something than to focus on something else? Doc raised his eyebrows as Marty snuck through behind him and shut the door. Surveying the scene, there wasn’t much room in the old tub but he wasn’t going to try anything complicated anyway. It should work fine.

“Mind if I join you?” Marty asked.

Doc cocked his head, looking even more like an overgrown bird than usual. “I don’t mind a bit if you think we’ll both fit comfortably.”

Marty stripped to his underwear and then hesitated as he watched Doc turn the water on and step in. Given his questions the other night, Doc was definitely nervous about their relationship now, and he’d been skittish from the beginning. If there was a way to reassure him, Marty wanted to give it to him. He pulled the sports bra off and left his underwear on the floor. Doc’s eyes on him lit an unsteady heat. Marty reached out and wrapped his arms around Doc, pressing his face into Emmett’s bare chest. Doc’s hands rested lightly on Marty’s back.

“Marty…” Emmett started.

Anticipating questions, Marty slid slowly to his knees and looked up, ready to answer. He blinked water out of his eyes. Emmett’s hand combed Marty’s hair back from his face, a gesture so tender it made Marty’s teeth ache.

“Do you want me to do this?” Marty signed, ready to get into it as quickly as possible.

“Is it something you want to do now?”

Infuriating as always, Emmett decided to consider Marty’s feelings when all Marty wanted to do was ignore them. He could do this. He could make Emmett feel good, loved. Marty loved him. Even if he hadn’t said as much in so many words he was still saying it all the time, wasn’t he? This was just another way of letting him know. Sure, he wanted it. He should. He’d been fantasizing about it for ages even if it made him nervous still. But… how would Doc see him like this? Maybe he shouldn’t want to if he was going to try and be a guy. Maybe he should want other things instead.
Before Marty could answer, Doc had his hands under his armpits and was lifting him back to his feet. Pulled back into an embrace, there was nothing he could say.

“Not now, Marty,” Emmett said, not unkindly, “I’d like to avoid rushing headlong into things, if possible.”

He leaned back and smiled at Marty. “I made a lot of mistakes as a young man that I’d rather not make again, especially with you. I may be a fool but I’m… that’s a lie, I am rather reckless,” He considered his next words and Marty snorted.

Finally, he settled on, “You’re the only person whose opinion of me matters.”

That was clearly the truth, although Marty wasn’t sure it was for the best. Part of him was embarrassed but most of him was relieved. He felt less stupid for not being ready at least. And the way Doc was holding him suggested that nervous or not, he wasn’t letting go yet. Marty pushed away gently.

“Thanks, Doc,” he signed, “You oughta tell me about those mistakes sometime.”

Emmett laughed and grabbed the bar of soap. “Of course. But while you’re in here with me, would you mind giving me a hand?”

Lathering up the soap, Marty scrubbed Doc’s back clean before handing the washcloth back over. Emmett returned the favor. Something about the gentle circles on his skin felt more significant than anything Marty had thought of as intimate. He felt safe and cared for, and that spot under his right shoulder blade that he couldn’t reach wasn’t itchy anymore. It suddenly occurred to him that even if they never fucked that this… this could be good. They could still have this. Knowing that made the idea of trying the rest a lot less daunting to think about.

Wishes for another night together taunted him. Friday couldn’t come soon enough. Einstein huffed from his bed while they were saying goodbye, still worn out from their walk. Marty tossed him a biscuit before leaving.