November 12th 1955
"There is only one man who can help me," Marty answered the Western Union guy, before he broke away and started to run back into town.
His heart was beating fast, not just from the physical exertion, but also from relief that Doc was okay. He had stuffed the letter into his leather jacket and hoped the hoverboard he had left behind was sufficiently hidden. It wouldn't be of much use in this rain, but he would need to get it on their way back to Doc's place, lest it fell into the wrong hands like the almanach had.
"Doc!" Marty shouted, as he finally reached his destination, but the man didn't seem to hear him and turned towards his car, "Doc!“ Marty shouted again and grabbed him by his coat sleeves to turn him around. Doc gasped in shock as he recognized him and tried to break away. "Hey Doc, relax, it's me, it's me, Marty!" Marty tried to reassure him, but Doc shook his head.
"No, no, it can't be you. I just sent you back to the future,“ he uttered frantic and flabbergasted.
"Yeah, I know, you did send me back to the future, but I'm back. I'm back from the future," Marty explained.
„Great Scott!“ Doc exclaimed and slumped to the ground. For a moment Marty was afraid Doc had lost consciousness, but then he saw him roll over onto his stomach and puke his guts out. "Doc!" Marty was worried and tried to hold his friend while he was sick. He looked up at the conduits that had routed the lighting into the DeLorean. They were still on fire, just like the street was from his former time traveling. He remembered Doc desperately trying to keep the conduits linked. "Geez, did that lightining bolt hit you?" Marty asked horrified. The universe really had it in for his friend it would seem. "I'll get you to the hospital …"
"No, Marty, it's alright, I'll be fine." Doc said after the convulsions stopped. He leaned back into Marty's arms trying to catch his breath. "How the hell are you back?" he asked big eyed and astonished.
"Oh, that's ... a long and ugly story." Marty offered weakly and raked his fingers through his still wet hair in embarrassment. He wasn't sure if he should get Doc some medical attention anyway, but Doc insisted everything was alright now and that they should see to get of the street and home before the rain would hit midtown.
On the drive to get the hoverboard (there was something odd about its shape and color now, but he was still too concerned about Doc's condition to pay it much attention) Marty tried to give Doc the cliffsnotes of what had happened after he had returned to 1985. Many gasps and mutterings of 'The Future?', 'The Past?', 'A Paradox?', 'Great Scott?' later, they finally reached 1640 Riverside Drive and even though they hurried, they got pretty wet from the pouring rain that had overtaken them. Doc was still a bit unsteady on his feet, so Marty proped him up and helped him onto the couch. Copernicus, who had already napped in his dog basket, observed them with pricked ears now.
„Doc? You sure you're alright?" Marty asked for probably the tenth time, "You look really pale.“
"I'm just feeling a bit dizzy. Can you maybe fetch me some water?" Doc asked.
"Of course." Marty hurried and got a glass of water from the sink, which Doc drank in greedy gulps before he lay back down on the couch again. Marty removed the soaked shoes and socks from Doc and also got rid of his own before he brought Doc's housecoat and tucked his friend in. Copernicus wagged his tail approvingly. Must be quite the picture, Marty thought, him mollycoddling Doc like some mother hen, though his feelings weren't exactly of a motherly nature at the moment. After Doc seemed to be provided for, Marty set all the wet stuff including the letter from 1885 up to dry at the fireplace and then rummaged in Doc's work coat to get the scraps of his own letter from it. He got some cellotape and went to work at the coffee table.
"Marty, what are you doing?" Doc asked shifting on the couch.
"I'm taping my letter back together," Marty explained matter-of-factly.
"Marty I told you I don't want to know ..."
"Shut up!" Marty cut in. Probably a bit sharper in tone than intended, because Doc looked taken aback.
"Look, if I don't tape it back together you will, because and I cite 'I figured, what the hell'. Seeing you shot twice was two fucking times to many. Even if the second time wasn't fatal."
"Shot? That's what you were trying to tell me at the clock tower?" Doc asked looking uneasy.
"Yeah, you know, Plutonium is not actually available in any corner drugstore in 1985 either," hinted Marty and handed Doc the fixed letter.
"Oh." Doc could probably figure the rest even before he read the letter. "Damn, Marty, I never ..." Doc was teary-eyed after having done so and shivered.
"Hey, bulletproof vest for the rescue," Marty said to lighten the mood again and put the letter back on the coffe table. "Are you cold?" he picked the droped down housecoat back up and tried to tuck Doc in once again, which made the older man shift awkwardly under Marty's ministrations. "Alright? Need something else?" Marty asked.
„I'm sorry Marty, I ...“ Doc stuttered embarrassed, turning red in the face and Marty could feel Doc's erection brush against him through the coat.
Damn. Doc was hard for him and- yeah, that thought made himself hard in a half-second too, which was totally crazy, except- Marty figured what the hell and kissed Doc on the lips. They felt cold but soft and Marty thought he could probably get addicted to them.
"Marty, what are you doing?“ Doc asked for the second time this evening. He caressed Marty's face looking curiously. "In the future we are not-?"
"No." Marty shook his head. "Guess we are now though." Suddenly he felt pretty teary-eyed himself. "I'm just- I'm just so damn glad you're not dead. No terrorists, no lightning bolts, no stupid Biff," he rambled and buried his face in the crook of Doc's neck, teasing the tender skin there with his lips. Doc moaned his name, which emboldened Marty to rearrange Doc's clothes a bit. "May I?“ He asked and delicately sneaked his hands under Doc's shirt. Holy shit, Doc was pretty hairy, Marty noted. He liked it though and explored the coarse locks until he reached a nipple to tease with his thumb.
"Gods Marty, you're so ..." Doc pulled him closer got one hand under Marty's shirt too and explored his backside.
Marty tried to have a go at Doc's slacks with his other hand, but with not much success, because of his dumb fumbling fingers. As he fought with Doc's belt and zipper, the thought of getting 'into Doc's pants' made him chuckle. Wow, McFly, how mature, he thought, but Doc found his laughter contagious it seemed and pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss. "You're so pretty," he finished his sentence afterwards.
"Geez Doc," Marty blushed and finally got his hand in, testing Doc's length. Turned out that could be a challenge, but as proven many times Marty was no chicken. Had he ever thought of sucking cock before? Because he really wanted to suck Doc's now. Going down to get busy, he first took the proud head into his mouth, carefully licking at the slit. Doc jerked under him and gave a warning: "I'm not going to last long if you keep that up Future Boy."
Well, that's kind of the point, Doc, Marty thought, and tried to work his way further down the shaft. Doc started to pant, tilted his head back and grabbed the couch cushion with one hand, letting the other roam through Marty's hair. Getting the hang of it Marty sped up his lips work, trying to catch a glimps of Doc in the throes of passion. Doc's climax reaching 'oh' was rather faint, but still sounded like the most beautiful music to Marty's ears. He tried to swallow as good as he could and sampled the bitter-sweet taste. "Okay?" Marty asked, coming back up and wiping the aftermath from his mouth.
"Okay?" Doc blinked at him in wonder, trying to catch his breath. "Marty that was unbelievable, but I'm sorry, I'm not sure I'm in the shape to reciprocate properly," he apologized, sounding spent.
"That's alright, let me take care of everything." Marty took off Doc's shirt, his own t-shirt and jeans and settled besides, well, more on top of Doc for more skin to skin contact. They where both warm and sweaty now and it felt absolutely fantastic. Marty put Doc's hand into his Calvin Klein's letting him feel his arousal. Turns out there was still some energy left in the man and Doc's tender strokes provided more than enough delightful sensory input to deal with for Marty. If Doc would use his mouth, I would proabably explode, he thought, as they fell into a more frantic rhythm. "Holy ... yes!" He moaned with pleasure as his orgasm washed over him, creating a bit of a mess between them.
"Okay?" Doc asked mischieveously, nibbling at Marty's chin.
"Are you kidding?" answered Marty and kissed him on the nose. "I think we need some clean up on this aisle," he noted kicked the briefs of and got up to find some tissue. When he came back Doc was asleep and snoring softly already. Marty smiled at the sight and tried to do away with the mess. Afterwards he picked the once again droped housecoat back up from the floor, put it on top of them both and went to sleep too.
'It's Howdy Doody time," the TV announced with song at 7am and woke Marty from his surprisingly undisturbed sleep. He felt Doc stir under him too. "Hey, Doc," Marty greeted, startling the other man fully awake.
"Morning Marty." Doc said sheepishly rubbing the sleepout of his eyes. "Thought my brainwaves had a short circuit and it was all a dream."
"Felt pretty real. And good. You're not mad with me, are you?" Marty asked anxiously, at once afraid he had maybe gone to far last night. He sat up to get a better look at Doc. "You were sick and I kinda took advantage of you."
Doc snorted. "Don't be ridiculous Marty, I'm twice your age. Technically I'm even ... Great Scott," he muttered after he had done the actual math in his head.
"Yeah, it's a bit heavy," Marty conceded, "but really beside the point."
"Are you sure, Marty?" Doc asked tentatively sitting up too. "What about your pretty girl in the future?“
"Uh ..." Jennifer. Marty hadn't even though about her since that alternative 1985 nightmare. "Well, besides drugging her and hauling her along our little adventures like a piece of luggage-," he grimaced, "she should be fine now, I hope. Turns out I'm a pretty sucky boyfriend anway." And husband and father too, from what Doc had let slip, he thought. "We better do something about you being stuck in the nineteenth century though," Marty tried to defelect, and got up to get Doc's letter from the line at the fireplace. Except- there was nothing there but their socks and shoes.
"What the hell?" Marty looked around confused. "Please, Copernicus, don't tell me you ate it," he chided the dog in his basket, who gave him a quizzical look. Doc also stared at him amused and it occured to Marty that he was standing there butt naked. He coughed self-consciously.
"You are quite a sight for sore eyes, Marty," Doc said and regretfully put on his houscoat before getting up too. He handed him his own discarded shirt, which was big enough for Marty to cover up a little and smelled of Doc as a bonus too. "I doubt Copernicus has anything to do with the letter's disappearance," Doc said. "Are you sure you put it on the line?"
"Of course," Marty affirmed. "It was pretty wet and I hanged it up just above the ... hoverboard." He almost choked on the last word, because there was no hoverboard either. Instead on the floor lay a frisbee. The hoverboard was a plain light pink frisbee now. There wasn't even branding on it. Marty picked it up bewilderedly. "That's just insane, Doc," he said alarmed. "I didn't catch up to Biff with a frisbee yesterday. I remember the Western Union guy giving me your letter," he looked at his friend - lover - seeking help.
"Well, it happened in your past, but the- this future will obviously be very different," Doc remarked.
"You mean because we ...?" Marty started.
"Probably." Doc nodded and sighed. "Another temporal paradox." He picked up the taped letter from the coffe table that was still there, but Marty's writing was gone too.
"One of those things that potentially destroys the universe?" Marty asked weakly.
"Very potentially, if not to say, no, they obviously don't," Doc shook his head. "They just create new ones. Sometimes I'm thinking a bit too dramatically."
"You think?" Marty asked, sounding a bit hysterical at this point. "Fading out of exsistence was pretty dramatic, let me tell you. So why ...?"
"Hasn't that happened now?" Doc looked off into space like he always did when he's mulled over something. "I have a theory."
"Of course you have," Marty nodded trying to stay calm.
"When you first interfered with the space-time continuum it still tried to repair the damage you did," Doc recapitulated.
"And it doesn't do that anymore?" Marty guessed.
"I think it's likely beyond repair at this point," Doc assessed and nodded. "So time has started to just ignore you."
"Ignore me? But what does that mean, Doc? I'm Schroedinger's Marty? Existing and not existing?"
"No, well, you're existing outside or at least parallel to the space-time continuum now, I would think. This one at least. You told me things had already changed the first time you got back to 1985, right?" Doc inquired.
"But you couldn't remember any of those changes, you still remembered your original timeline."
"And that wasn't mine," Marty concluded. It really wasn't. Even Jennifer had looked differently.
"No it wasn't. It's probably impossible to ever get you back to yours, what with all the offshoots that have been created by now," Doc acknowledged.
„That's pretty heavy. No, actually that's scary, Doc. I'm scared,“ Marty confessed with a shaky voice. "I'm so sorry Marty," Doc put his armes around him, holding him tight. "It's my fault. If I hadn't invented the time machine nothing of this would have happened," he lamented.
"I'm not regretting everything that has happened, Doc," Marty said. "Especially not last night." He looked up and tugged Doc's face down for a desperate kiss. „Just don't let go,“ Marty asked.
„I won't.“ Doc assured and kissed Marty some more. "Damn. We are a mess," he commented eventually and tugged at Marty's borrowed shirt. "Join me in the shower?“