☆ 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐜𝐅𝐥𝐲.

My bestest good friend experienced a tragedy this past weekend: her mother passed onto the next plane of existence. This woman (you can refer to her as Cowgirl, thank you very much!) was just as much of an Angel as she named her daughter… and my lovely friend needs some help giving her the forever home she deserves.

Please, if you see this post, please reblog. And, if you’re able to: please consider donating.

Let’s give the New York Cowgirl™️ the burial she deserves ❤️

Thank you.

𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝔠𝔬𝔬𝔩 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢,

࿐ ˚ . ➠ 𝙉𝙤, 𝙬𝙚'𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙩𝙮𝙡𝙚 !❞

Dedicated to his one true love. . .

— From @notachicken15

Ginger glanced down at her clock; it was 11am, huh, Marty was usually awake by now. That’s when she decided to lace up her roller skates and tell her parents she’d be back later then she left with her walkman and her backpack, she began skating across the street to reach his house. Three quick taps to the door and 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆, his mom answered. The girl explained that her and Marty had plans downtown today; it worked because Lorraine let her in and she began to take off her skates before quietly walking upstairs. One hand grabbed the doorknob and the other rested on the door. 𝑺𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 can be heard as she slowly pushed the door open to see that he was, in fact, asleep. She took slow and steady footsteps as to not wake him yet; that’s when she slipped her hand onto his back and sat down beside him.

“𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚? 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒖𝒑. 𝑾𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕.”

She spoke softly and sweetly; gently shaking him to try and stir him out of his slumber.

Everyday previously for the past two and a half weeks Marty had kept up a strict schedule: wake up early, study for school, practice on his guitar, head to school, attend band practice after school, and end the day working on science experiments with the Doc. With both his finals and a very important audition right around the corner, Marty wanted to make absolutely sure he was ready for anything.

Well, his academic finals were two days ago, and the audition was the day previously. He knew he made plans with his girlfriend Ginger to hang out this morning but… He unintentionally slept clean through his beeping alarm clock. Not something he would have done on purpose but… he was exhausted.

His dreamworld was a void of black nothingness, his brain not expending any extra energy to produce any sort of dream. That was, until a beautiful voice tickled his eardrums.

“Marty? It’s half past eleven so it’s time to get up.” He heard the voice say. The teenager stirred, wanting nothing more than to see the beautiful face belonging to that light voice.

“Wake up sweetheart.”

Finally lazy eyes blinked opened, hands first going up to wipe the sleep out of his eyes before tilting his head over…

. . . “Ging- Ginger?”

Beep, Beep, Beep! Went the alarm clock beside his bed, Marty finally hearing it, realizing what was happening.

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚, their finals and auctions were done; they had planned a date this morning and probably the rest of the day, knowing how they were but Marty slept in late but she wasn’t mad, she knew how much he’s been working. It couldn’t be easy balancing music and studying. She was trying her very best to be understanding about it.

One leg was resting on the bed and the other hung off, all she had was socks on so no 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕 got on his bed. Not this time anyways, she had a bad habit of doing that sometimes. Marty didn’t seem to mind it but it embarrassed her a lot of the times.

When he finally tilted his head towards her, she gave him a smile and gently ran a few fingers through his hair before it went back to rest on his back, not giving him any smooches, yet. He had just woken up.

“Morning sleepy head, glad you could join me.”

The redhead teased as she gave his lower back a soft, slow rub but the 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 from the clock started to annoy her so she stood up and clicked the snooze button before she looked back down at her handsome boyfriend. She really missed his voice, it was soothing to her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know how tired you’ve been. I know it was accident, sweetheart. I.. I mainly just came to check on you.”

It was quite unfortunate that Marty completely missed her presence within the shadows of his band practice. . .

. . . But it was quite difficult to play Bad Company with Good Company around. (Musical pun, as the Pinheads chose to play Bad Company for their audition.)

No matter if they aced or bombed their finals, Marty had planned to take his beautiful girlfriend out for a sweet pancake breakfast before heading together to the skating rink. . .

. . . But given the fact the teenager still lay snoring asleep on his bed, his hypothalamus had other plans for how he was to spend his morning.

He at first blinked slowly awake, before more clear thoughts caused him to wake up - and sit up - faster.

Has he ever said how annoying that alarm clock was?

He wanted to apologize again, but her hand in his hair and her warm smile was all that he needed to know that she forgave him. Still, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. First reaching out to grasp her free hand, he briefly looked away to check the time, before scooting closer to his love.

“If-if you haven’t yet had breakfast yet, the diner doesn’t close until later… or if you wanna head straight to the skating rink that’s fine by me.”

As he fell deeper into her beautiful eyes he couldn’t help but ask that same question:

She thought their version of Bad Company was pretty good— and now that the auditions are over ʜᴇ's ɪɴ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ.

Ginger had passed her exams but – she wasn’t sure if Marty did; however that wasn’t on her mind right now. Breakfast, hot pancakes, and coffee were on the redhead’s mind. Of course, the skating rink too. That was her favorite thing and she was happy Marty was taking her there.

Of course the redhead wasn’t going to let the fact that his brain (his hypothalamus) kept him in a deep sleep, ruin any of their morning plans. She’s pretty dead set on having a full stomach before she steps one foot on that rink.

Whenever he did finally sit up, she’s moving closer so she was right next to him and she had one hand resting on his thigh with a smile. ᴏʜ ʏᴇᴀʜ, sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴛᴇs ʜɪs ᴀʟᴀʀᴍ ᴄʟᴏᴄᴋ; ɪᴛ's sᴏ ʟᴏᴜᴅ.

He did not have to apologize again and by the warmth of her hand as well as her smile, it was quite obvious that she had forgiven him. He shouldn’t feel guilty, these things happen. She understands. When he grabbed her hand, she laced their fingers together and she leaned in closely, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Mcfly, I would love to go get some breakfast with you before we go skating. I can’t have the love of my life skating on such an empty stomach. What kinda girlfriend would I be?”

She teased as she looked into his eyes with the upmost love and adoration for him, how did she get so lucky?

That is a good question, how did he get so lucky?

Marty’s report card was in his book bag, but he wanted to wait until the weekend was over to see if he passed or failed (spoilers: he passed, but he held a pessimistic brain at times).

. . . He tried not to think too hard about her hand on his thigh, least he’d tackle her with a kiss that could lead to something more. Not before breakfast, Martin.

“McFly, I would love to go get some breakfast with you before we go skating. I can’t have the love of my life skating on such an empty stomach. What kinda girlfriend would I be?”

Her words, plus the kiss upon his cheek caused his heart to nearly leap outta his chest. Not even thinking about the presence of morning breath, Marty closed the distance, leaning up, and thanked her generosity the best way he knew how: with a kiss.

Not a long kiss, but a kiss all the same.

“I love you Ginger. You know that, right? I love you.”

His fingers caressed her cheek before he pulled away, finally jumping out of bed, rushing over to his dresser drawers and closet.

“I- I took a shower last night so I should be good this morning. I’ll change, then I’ll be ready to go, okay?”

Peter thought about what Marty had to say carefully, trying to think of how it could backfire on them. He didn’t see too many issues with it surpisely.

Maybe this wasn’t such a doomsday scenario, after all.

When Peter said anything other than negating his crazy want, Marty came to a stand off the bed, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“Y-yeah, they’ll remember me as Calvin - and you can either go as Peter, or make up a different name, given the fact that you don’t exist yet. Aw man, who else can say that they have held themself as a newborn baby? That’s some heavy duty stuff right there!”

The boy clasped his hands together, a giant smile on his face before he considered another detail:

“… You’re good around babies, right? I mean, you haven’t ever dropped one. . hopefully. Man, that’s trippy to think about: my future friend has possibly held me before I dirtied my first diaper. Time travel: it gets weird sometimes.”

“You and Doc should make more time machines and sell them to people.”

… Marty’s eyes widened in horror at that thought; one time machine was trouble enough… How long would civilization as we know it last with time travel in the hands of those more nefarious?

(Biff Tannen was prime example number uno).

Marty raised a finger to object, but it seemed Peter had just as quickly realized the implications of his suggestion, and rightfully backpedaled.

“… Ye-yeah, not the wisest suggestion in the world, I’d say. One time machine is bad enough already.”

Peter spoke of his experience with children - including the unfortunate passing of his former mentor - and Marty felt more comfortable of the idea of Peter holding… well… him.

Marty looked at himself one last time in a nearby mirror, running his fingers through his hair.

Peter had read far too many science fiction novels to think that time travel came without consequences. 

He then checked his backpack to make sure he had everything he would need for the trip. Money, snacks, water, iPhone, Spiderman suit just incase and a pocket sized American History book incase they needed information on a certain time period. 

"Have you had any instances were you or Doc messed up the time stream?”

Marty stiffened, and slowly turned his head to face his peer. How would he ever begin? “Uh… long story short: yes. The longer version? Uh, I think you’ll near some popcorn to hear that version. Between watching Doc die multiple times, having my mother kissing me, changing the name of the mall from Twin Pine Mall to Lone Pine Mall… you as much as breathe wrong in the past, and it could have serious repercussions for the future.”

Marty didn’t mean that in any hurtful or mean way, just his way of saying “be careful.”

“Plenty of trial and error; feels like I have experienced the year 1955 a gazillion times.”

Watching as the other zipped up his book bag, Marty gently spoke a request: “No Spider-Manning unless absolutely necessary, okay? As in, only in a life-or-death situation. These people would have a heart attack if they saw webs come out of your wrist.”

A few blocks away from Scott’s high school was the abandoned remains of some sort of small store. Dollar General, convenience store, mini mart, strip club, Marty had no idea what it once was. All that he knew and cared about was that it was abandoned, had trees surrounding almost three-fourths of the the sides of the property, and hopefully was an adequate hiding spot for the vehicle that didn’t belong in this reality.

If they had to compare the severity of nerves between the two, Marty would probably have less anxiety at this situation, but as they approached the abandoned lot Marty grew more and more anxious; what if his doppelgänger said “fuck this,” and ran for his life? Was bringing him here - and telling him about themselves - a mistake?

Still, he had revealed too much information to chicken out now, so he pressed on.

“Not necessarily. As Doc explained it to me, although its an ASTRONOMICAL number to imagine, there isn’t exactly an infinite amount of human faces our 23 pairs of chromosomes can create. At some point, there will be unrelated people that just happen to look like each other. Like… Like—” he snapped his fingers as he thought of an example. “— Van Gogh and Chuck Norris! Have you ever noticed how similar they look? But they’re not twins. Wasn’t Van Gogh from the 1800s? Last I checked, Chuck Norris wasn’t.”

Feeling himself sorta going off-track, he coughed, pointing to behind the building they stood in front of.

“Sorry, I know I’m throwing a lot at you all at once; I wouldn’t blame you if hearing all of this give you a headache… And as far as your next question goes… mmmmaybe? I haven’t seen it happen, but Doc sure does think its a possibility. But again, I wouldn’t freak out over it…”

     Naturally, Scott wasn’t one to be so nervous. Very few things actually scared him unless his true fear of the unknown got under his skin. For a situation like this, boy was it easy for his own fur to stand on end. He wanted to know more, but was honestly scared of what he was going to be told. Time travel was so unheard of, even Stiles would’ve thought he was high on something.

     Listening to his other self talk was like listening to his own science teacher try to explain something to him. All it had done was throw in a bunch of screws loose in his head and it became brainfog for a few seconds. However, it slowly… made some sense. It still didn’t click with how they both were from different “universes”!

     “W-Well, yeah? It.. It’s sort of how y’find accidental twins sometimes. When they’re… When they’re not twins,” he shrugged. God, he was awful at giving a decent explanation. “Yeah, it’s still a lot to take in. I’m not… exactly the brightest, but I’m tryin’.”

“Yeah, it’s still a lot to take in. I’m not... exactly the brightest, but I’m tryin’.”

When Marty heard those words leave Scott’s mouth, he couldn’t help but whirl around on his feet and speak with a pleading look.

“Look, I know neither you nor I are Doc Brown-intelligent, but please don’t put yourself down, okay? I like to think you’re - we’re smarter than we give ourselves credit for.”

Realizing it might seem odd his sudden change in action and mood, Marty took a few steps back, almost bumping into the DeLorean in the process.

“Sorry, I grew up with a lifetime worth of self esteem issues.. I would just hate to hear that we share that in common.”

Reaching into his pants pocket, he retrieved and inserted the key into the door of the DeLorean, raising it up as he happily answered his doppelgänger’s next inquiry.

Swerving slightly to easily miss a pothole in the sidewalk, Marty made a “hm” sound as the younger boy spoke about his father.

“Racing? That’s kick-ass, dude! I’d love to race, if ever given the opportunity.”

The rest of the ride went smoothly, albeit competitively, finally ending their own “race” at the Brown mansion. Marty screeched his board to a halt and the end of the driveway, before stepping off to kick the back of the the board, sending the top of the board into the palm of his hands.

“… Yep, this is Doc’s place. And I, uh, well…” thinking.. “… I know he kinda, uh, came from big money, but.. he hasn’t invented anything yet that would make him a millionaire or anything.” Coughs, before he motioned with his free hand to follow him. Up the driveway they went, as Marty dug for a key out of his pocket, inserting it into the front door, opening it…

. . . And out bursts a very happy shaggy dog, first licking Marty’s hands before turning his attention to the stranger. Einstein didn’t growl, nor was he afraid of the boy, only… curious. His happy energy faded away as he took a seat on his bottom, staring at the boy.

— From @notachicken15

Ginger glanced down at her clock; it was 11am, huh, Marty was usually awake by now. That’s when she decided to lace up her roller skates and tell her parents she’d be back later then she left with her walkman and her backpack, she began skating across the street to reach his house. Three quick taps to the door and 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆, his mom answered. The girl explained that her and Marty had plans downtown today; it worked because Lorraine let her in and she began to take off her skates before quietly walking upstairs. One hand grabbed the doorknob and the other rested on the door. 𝑺𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 can be heard as she slowly pushed the door open to see that he was, in fact, asleep. She took slow and steady footsteps as to not wake him yet; that’s when she slipped her hand onto his back and sat down beside him.

“𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚? 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒖𝒑. 𝑾𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕.”

She spoke softly and sweetly; gently shaking him to try and stir him out of his slumber.

Everyday previously for the past two and a half weeks Marty had kept up a strict schedule: wake up early, study for school, practice on his guitar, head to school, attend band practice after school, and end the day working on science experiments with the Doc. With both his finals and a very important audition right around the corner, Marty wanted to make absolutely sure he was ready for anything.

Well, his academic finals were two days ago, and the audition was the day previously. He knew he made plans with his girlfriend Ginger to hang out this morning but… He unintentionally slept clean through his beeping alarm clock. Not something he would have done on purpose but… he was exhausted.

His dreamworld was a void of black nothingness, his brain not expending any extra energy to produce any sort of dream. That was, until a beautiful voice tickled his eardrums.

“Marty? It’s half past eleven so it’s time to get up.” He heard the voice say. The teenager stirred, wanting nothing more than to see the beautiful face belonging to that light voice.

“Wake up sweetheart.”

Finally lazy eyes blinked opened, hands first going up to wipe the sleep out of his eyes before tilting his head over…

. . . “Ging- Ginger?”

Beep, Beep, Beep! Went the alarm clock beside his bed, Marty finally hearing it, realizing what was happening.

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚, their finals and auctions were done; they had planned a date this morning and probably the rest of the day, knowing how they were but Marty slept in late but she wasn’t mad, she knew how much he’s been working. It couldn’t be easy balancing music and studying. She was trying her very best to be understanding about it.

One leg was resting on the bed and the other hung off, all she had was socks on so no 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕 got on his bed. Not this time anyways, she had a bad habit of doing that sometimes. Marty didn’t seem to mind it but it embarrassed her a lot of the times.

When he finally tilted his head towards her, she gave him a smile and gently ran a few fingers through his hair before it went back to rest on his back, not giving him any smooches, yet. He had just woken up.

“Morning sleepy head, glad you could join me.”

The redhead teased as she gave his lower back a soft, slow rub but the 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 from the clock started to annoy her so she stood up and clicked the snooze button before she looked back down at her handsome boyfriend. She really missed his voice, it was soothing to her.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know how tired you’ve been. I know it was accident, sweetheart. I.. I mainly just came to check on you.”

It was quite unfortunate that Marty completely missed her presence within the shadows of his band practice. . .

. . . But it was quite difficult to play Bad Company with Good Company around. (Musical pun, as the Pinheads chose to play Bad Company for their audition.)

No matter if they aced or bombed their finals, Marty had planned to take his beautiful girlfriend out for a sweet pancake breakfast before heading together to the skating rink. . .

. . . But given the fact the teenager still lay snoring asleep on his bed, his hypothalamus had other plans for how he was to spend his morning.

He at first blinked slowly awake, before more clear thoughts caused him to wake up - and sit up - faster.

Has he ever said how annoying that alarm clock was?

He wanted to apologize again, but her hand in his hair and her warm smile was all that he needed to know that she forgave him. Still, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. First reaching out to grasp her free hand, he briefly looked away to check the time, before scooting closer to his love.

“If-if you haven’t yet had breakfast yet, the diner doesn’t close until later… or if you wanna head straight to the skating rink that’s fine by me.”

As he fell deeper into her beautiful eyes he couldn’t help but ask that same question:

— From @notachicken15

Ginger glanced down at her clock; it was 11am, huh, Marty was usually awake by now. That’s when she decided to lace up her roller skates and tell her parents she’d be back later then she left with her walkman and her backpack, she began skating across the street to reach his house. Three quick taps to the door and 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆, his mom answered. The girl explained that her and Marty had plans downtown today; it worked because Lorraine let her in and she began to take off her skates before quietly walking upstairs. One hand grabbed the doorknob and the other rested on the door. 𝑺𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 can be heard as she slowly pushed the door open to see that he was, in fact, asleep. She took slow and steady footsteps as to not wake him yet; that’s when she slipped her hand onto his back and sat down beside him.

“𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚? 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒇 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒖𝒑. 𝑾𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒖𝒑 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕.”

She spoke softly and sweetly; gently shaking him to try and stir him out of his slumber.

Everyday previously for the past two and a half weeks Marty had kept up a strict schedule: wake up early, study for school, practice on his guitar, head to school, attend band practice after school, and end the day working on science experiments with the Doc. With both his finals and a very important audition right around the corner, Marty wanted to make absolutely sure he was ready for anything.

Well, his academic finals were two days ago, and the audition was the day previously. He knew he made plans with his girlfriend Ginger to hang out this morning but… He unintentionally slept clean through his beeping alarm clock. Not something he would have done on purpose but… he was exhausted.

His dreamworld was a void of black nothingness, his brain not expending any extra energy to produce any sort of dream. That was, until a beautiful voice tickled his eardrums.

“Marty? It’s half past eleven so it’s time to get up.” He heard the voice say. The teenager stirred, wanting nothing more than to see the beautiful face belonging to that light voice.

“Wake up sweetheart.”

Finally lazy eyes blinked opened, hands first going up to wipe the sleep out of his eyes before tilting his head over…

. . . “Ging- Ginger?”

Beep, Beep, Beep! Went the alarm clock beside his bed, Marty finally hearing it, realizing what was happening.

The minutely-handsomer boy opened his mouth to continue their conversation but halted, as he spotted (in his near peripherals) a student (probably a damn teacher’s pet), assisting whom he guessed was the principal by pointing their direction.

Luckily, Scott’s back was towards them, and Marty slowly tilted his head down (as to have the brim of his hat obscure his features), and to stand the same direction of his doppelgänger.

“Don’t turn around, but I think your principal spotted me. Not sure about you, given the way you’re facing. May I suggest taking this conversation on the road?”

Ever so casually Marty began walking away - hopefully with Scott by his side - down the same sidewalks that led to where he parked the DeLorean not too far away.

Finally, but for the moment at a lower volume, he continued their conversation.

“My friend, yes. Doctor Emmett Brown. He’s a scientist, not a medical doctor, by the way. I promise you he’s not weird or crazy… Okay, maybe he is kinda weird and out there, but. . He has a heart of gold… And has been more of a father to me than my own dad has ever been. I kinda see him like my adoptive dad, and I presume he sees me like his son.”

He glanced over to Scott, giving a soft smile.

“That’s where you come in. In his quest of further scientific knowledge and observations of the universe and beyond, he was probably curious to see what our alternative versions were like. How similar, how different. He only spied and researched about you because you resemble his son; nothing more than that.“

He cleared his throat.

“Any data or information he found was only to be for himself - but since I’m a very curious person, I found his papers laying in his lab, and had to see this “werewolf alt-Marty” for myself. And, so far, you don’t disappoint.”

Marty was glad to hear that the appearance of his hairier side didn’t necessarily spell trouble - he valued his skin too much to get clawed or scratched.

“… No, Doc’s not here; only me. And he doesn’t know I’m here. But, if you see a flying steam locomotive ever off in the distance, then know I - we’re - busted. He kinda has a number one rule of don’t interact with your alternative selves. Well the universe isn’t exploding right now, is it, Doc?”

Marty said the last sentence rhetorically.

     “Wait, is that why–” Oh, that was why. He quickly followed his advice, taking his leave with his doppelganger and to avoid the principal. Knowing him, he’d really nip it in his ass for something he didn’t do. He wanted nothing to do with that, so he took the chance to quickly leave.

     Scott intently listened to him describe his “friend”. So, he was a doctor? From what it sounded like, he wasn’t any “regular” doctor from a medical facility or anything like that. Little by little, he was trusting him as they walked, and a lot of what he mentioned made… some sense. Not entirely. Time travel was a weird concept, and he only thought it was in sci-fi shows and movies. He didn’t think it was actually possible. Some questions were brewing in his head, scratching the side of it with his hand as he walked with him.

     “I mean, I… appreciate it?” He shrugged. “I’m just… I’m confused. So, am I like… related to you in some way? Like, yeah, we have the same looks, but… God, none of this makes sense to me.”

A few blocks away from Scott’s high school was the abandoned remains of some sort of small store. Dollar General, convenience store, mini mart, strip club, Marty had no idea what it once was. All that he knew and cared about was that it was abandoned, had trees surrounding almost three-fourths of the the sides of the property, and hopefully was an adequate hiding spot for the vehicle that didn’t belong in this reality.

If they had to compare the severity of nerves between the two, Marty would probably have less anxiety at this situation, but as they approached the abandoned lot Marty grew more and more anxious; what if his doppelgänger said “fuck this,” and ran for his life? Was bringing him here - and telling him about themselves - a mistake?

Still, he had revealed too much information to chicken out now, so he pressed on.

“Not necessarily. As Doc explained it to me, although its an ASTRONOMICAL number to imagine, there isn’t exactly an infinite amount of human faces our 23 pairs of chromosomes can create. At some point, there will be unrelated people that just happen to look like each other. Like… Like—” he snapped his fingers as he thought of an example. “— Van Gogh and Chuck Norris! Have you ever noticed how similar they look? But they’re not twins. Wasn’t Van Gogh from the 1800s? Last I checked, Chuck Norris wasn’t.”

Feeling himself sorta going off-track, he coughed, pointing to behind the building they stood in front of.

Peter thought about what Marty had to say carefully, trying to think of how it could backfire on them. He didn’t see too many issues with it surpisely.

Maybe this wasn’t such a doomsday scenario, after all.

When Peter said anything other than negating his crazy want, Marty came to a stand off the bed, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

“Y-yeah, they’ll remember me as Calvin - and you can either go as Peter, or make up a different name, given the fact that you don’t exist yet. Aw man, who else can say that they have held themself as a newborn baby? That’s some heavy duty stuff right there!”

The boy clasped his hands together, a giant smile on his face before he considered another detail:

“… You’re good around babies, right? I mean, you haven’t ever dropped one. . hopefully. Man, that’s trippy to think about: my future friend has possibly held me before I dirtied my first diaper. Time travel: it gets weird sometimes.”

“You and Doc should make more time machines and sell them to people.”

. . . Marty’s eyes widened in horror at that thought; one time machine was trouble enough… How long would civilization as we know it last with time travel in the hands of those more nefarious?

(Biff Tannen was prime example number uno).

Marty raised a finger to object, but it seemed Peter had just as quickly realized the implications of his suggestion, and rightfully backpedaled.

“… Ye-yeah, not the wisest suggestion in the world, I’d say. One time machine is bad enough already.”

Peter spoke of his experience with children - including the unfortunate passing of his former mentor - and Marty felt more comfortable of the idea of Peter holding… well… him.

Marty looked at himself one last time in a nearby mirror, running his fingers through his hair.

“Hey Doc?” Marty asked after taking a long sip of the coffee from his mug.

Yesterday was a big day for the McFly family, as George’s novel, “A Match Made In Space” had just passed the half-a-million in sales. While the family celebrated the patriarchal McFly’s success with a fancy dinner at a high end restaurant, Marty found himself sitting in silence, staring at each member of his family.

They were his blood relatives, no doubt, but… who exactly was his family? He didn’t know these people; he held no recollection of their history. His parents would be happy with a celebration at a Applebees, not a Michelin-star restaurant that was $60 a plate.

The only family Marty felt he had… was Emmett Brown himself.

And that was why, directly following dinner, he had excused himself to visit the scientist’s garage. He was surprised to find said man at said garage, instead of whenever with his family. (Maybe the old man missed his friend, Marty hoped).

Emmett looked surprised at the question. He hadn't thought about that instrument since...well, almost two or three decades. Now, he wondered why he had even bothered to keep it all those years. Maybe Marty was right, and it was some sort of decoration.

However, Doc suspected that both he and Marty knew that wasn't the entire truth. "I used to play the saxophone back in the day. It was a gift from my aunt on my 30th birthday. I'm certain my skills are rusty by now, though."

The scientist fell silent. I wonder if I could play something, after all that time...it's worth a shot, isn't it? I could repay Marty for the countless free concerts he's given me during the years of our friendship.

But that wasn't his only reason, if he was honest. He'd dearly missed that kid while he had been away on his journey across the space-time-continuum, and even though he had been happy to explore the universe with his beloved family, he would love to spend some time with Marty only as well. Not to mention that he hadn't seen the boy in about seven months.

Even if it means playing an instrument I haven't touched in forever.

“Get outta town, you never told me you played before!”

The teenager tried to picture the scene in his head - the Doc playing an expert melody on the instrument - and he couldn’t help but let out a single laugh before grabbing his shoulder.

“C’mon, wanna go practice scales? I’ll play something on the piano and you repeat after me. Let’s see what the old man can do!”

Marty’s mood noticeably improved at the revelation, always in the mood to practice his music, especially now with the man he saw like a father.

Emmett went on to grab the saxophone from where it was hanging on the wall and blew the layer of dust off its surface. "Help yourself with the piano, Marty."

He carefully tuned the instrument, now wondering when exactly had been the last time he'd played this thing.

But now, though, it didn't matter. Just seeing Marty's excitement when the inventor had mentioned being able to play the saxophone had filled Emmett with motivation to pick up his music again. So now, he patiently waited for Marty to get ready,.

After so many years - literally, centuries shared - between the two, Marty was shocked to learn this tiny fun fact about Emmett. Although the probable explanation could be it just was never brought up because he never asked, still…

Doc’s piano was a family heirloom passed on to him from his parents, and Marty was the first to polish it’s finish, and tune every string to the proper frequency. He couldn’t guarantee how he’d treat it within the moment in the middle of a song, but every moment outside that Marty treated the instrument with the care and respect it deserved.

As the scientist took his instrument down from the wall and dusted it, Marty took his seat on the bench, unfolding the lid before playing a chromatic scale as a brief warm-up.

The musical side of his brain kicked into overdrive, deciding how to best begin the musical experiment…

… When an idea of a song popped into his head, freezing him, before giving a near sinister grin.

This should be good.

Marty cleared his throat as he popped his knuckles in anticipation.

“Okay, Doc: I’ll walk you through three scales, and if you can get those, we’ll try those keys from a famous melody you might recognize. Sounds good? Okay.. first off: the scale of B♭…”