Chapter Text
The afternoon of Saturday, November 2nd, 1985.
"Save the Clock Tower!"
A teenage boy runs around Hill Valley's own Courthouse Square, handing out colorful flyers tucked underneath his arm to anyone who passes by. Despite his rather rough exterior with a trio of scars across his right cheek and a punky undercut, his cheerful demeanor is quite charming.
Local punk Marty McFly is the last person you'd expect to see handing out flyers with such energy. He's Hill Valley High School's weirdo loner kid, after all!
He's got a good reason to be outgoing for once — he wouldn't have gotten back home without one of those flyers. Helping out's the least he can do in return.
If Jenn hadn't taken the blue one from his hands and wrote the number for her grandmother's house on it, he'd be in his fourties by now. He didn't call back, so it was still in his pocket when he got stranded in 1955.
"Marty, I'm sorry, but the only power source capable of generating one point twenty-one gigawatts of electricity is a bolt of lightning."
"What didja say?"
"A bolt of lightning, unfortunately, you never know when or where it's ever gonna strike."
Marty remembered the date on that flyer and showed it to Doc.
"We do now."
He's got that flyer pinned up on his wall, now; it was still in his jacket pocket when he got home — not from 1955, but from 1885.
"Mister McFly."
"Yes, Ms. Raven?"
"It would be best if you simmer down."
"Uh..."
Marty runs a hand through his hair.
"With all due respect, Ms. Raven, I'm taking a more casual approach."
He's rubbing the back of his neck now.
"If people feel inconvenienced, they're not gonna donate, let alone care about the cause."
Before Ms. Raven can say anything, Marty runs over to a group of his fellow students.
"Save the Clock Tower! Even just a quarter'll help!"
After sticking it to Needles without making a scene, accepting punishment without issue, and even spooking his gang on Monday, his peers were starting to look at him a lot differently... To your average high schooler, accepting punishment just like that is rather brave.
"Ughhhhhhh... Seriously, lady, again?"
That agitating, grating voice.
It's Needles.
As Ms. Raven harrumphs and puts the donation can back down on the table, Marty grabs a flyer from the stack under his arm and leans against the singular tree in the square, out of that asshole's view.
When none of the other volunteers are looking, he balls it up tight. He tosses it up and down a few times before throwing it right at Needles' head.
CRACK SHOT !!!
"HEY! Who the fuc-"
He sneaks out from behind the tree before Needles can turn his head around. Alas, his efforts are in vain — Needles still zeroes in on him, stomping over.
"McFly!"
"Hm?"
"I know it was you who threw that flyer at me!"
Marty puts a hand on his hip and rolls his eyes as he turns to face Needles.
"Maybe if y'paid attention, you'd notice I'm actually doin' something with my free time."
He taps the large button with "SAVE THE CLOCK TOWER" written on it that's pinned to the right side of his jacket. Like all the others, there's an image of the Courthouse on it and a pair of red, white, and blue ribbons hanging off of it.
"Tch. Whatever. Yer the only person I see with a big stack of flyers."
Marty's eyes dart over to the cluster of other volunteers.
"... And I've been handin' them out, yeah."
"And-"
"It coulda been anyone, Doug."
"It's-"
"Hey, Ms. Raven! This fine young man over here changed his mind!"
Needles quickly becomes more concerned with getting away from the older woman speedwalking towards him — giving Marty an opening to walk away while sticking out his tounge at the other punk.
And as soon as he's in sight of everyone else, his demeanor's switched up.
A cheerful smile spreads across his face as he notices the multiple donation cans filled to the brim.