Disclaimer: I do not own 'Back To The Future' movies.
…You have no idea how sorry I am for not updating. No excuses, I lost inspiration and almost convinced myself to put this on hold. Then I got a message from a fan of this story and here we are! Hopefully this chapter won't suck.
'Cause that'd just be awkward.
"I admit that wasn't a proper diagnosis-"
"Wait what?" Marty stood up so quickly his chair cluttered to the ground. You mean to ttell me you put me through hell all over a miss-diagnosis!" Callerys' eyes widened and I saw a hand slip under the desk. Marty wasn't an idiot and knew that was a panic button. "My family thinks I'm a psychopath! Or sociopath!"
"I called them this morning and related the news that I was wrong nand you do not in fact have psychosis –"
"HOW THE FUCK DID YOY GET THAT WRONG!?"
"You have similar traits with past patients and I'm afraid the intern got some notes mixed up -" The man didn't get to finish his sentence as Marty jumped onto his desk and kicked him off his chair. In an instant the door flew open behind him and the guards attacked.
Of course, this all happened inside his head.
Marty blinked blearily, he wasn't in the position to leap across his chair and kick the damned Doctor. He idly sent a weary look at his restraints that chained him to his chair. To anyone else the sight would look a bit extreme. But Marty couldn't blame them after his numerous attempts at escaping, attacking guards and just plain rebellion. Breathing out a calming breath he asked in a deadly calm tone: "What…what do you mean you were wrong?"
The man opposite him leaned back in his chair, causing it to creak under pressure. "It's all very complicated –"
"Then uncomplicated it. I was under the impression you were a professional. Professionals don't just misdiagnose." There was a pause. Callery stared at him with those piercing eyes, the same eyes that were used to misdiagnose him, to ruin his life. Somewhere deep inside Marty, an ire was lit. It slithered out and whispered in his ear. Oh how much he wanted to carve those eyes out and shove them down his throat.
"You're right, Mr. McFly." Said Doctor Callery, and for a second Marty thought he saw a flash of guilt. "I am a professional. And I was originally acting on your previous psych report, which stated very clearly that you had the characteristics of a budding antisocial personality disorder. But, after meeting you I can say that everything in this folder is exceedingly wrong." He said and dug out a file out from underneath a pile of papers. Flipping it open he twisted it around so Marty could see. "It's written by your school counselor." Marty didn't budge.
On one hand, he was curious as to see what this version of himself was like in the eyes of a psychologist rather than bullies and friends. And on the other hand he was frustrated and angry, he didn't like feeling lost. Marty used to feel confident and sure of himself, until he changed time. Two weeks of spending time in this world was enough to wake him up to the fact that this version wasn't like himself. He was slowly changing. Something was doing it. He could feel it at the back of his mind.
"You don't want to read it?" Callery asked carefully.
Marty shifted uncomfortably in his chair; he didn't like how the Doctor was talking to him.
"Would you like me read it for you?"
"All right," he makes himself say. Oh, God. He thinks. Why did he say that?
"In my time spent with Marty McFly, he has often exhibited behavior as psychopathic. Throughout the years I have observed Mr. McFly, he at first seemed incapable of human interaction and empathy. Though shortly I thought I was wrong as he began to spend time with other boys. Although after a session with Mr. McFly, he seemed to be genuinely incapable of caring for any of these boys as he blatantly explained how he saw them nothing but ants under his boot.
Mr. McFly also appears to-"
A knock at the door cuts him off.
"Erm." Marty turned to see Brian poke his head in with an uneasy smile. "Simon is here to see you." Out the corner of his eye, Marty caught a grimace tug at the Doctors lips.
"Alright then. Guess we have to cut this session short."
Marty shrugs and lets Brian help him out of his seat. The man's fingers curl over his bony shoulder, directing him into the hallway. Around Marty, guards flock him unconsciously. The action always brings a bitter smile to his lips.
"Still don't trust me boys?" Marty questions and huffs on a laugh when one guard growls. Brian takes a step closer when he notices the flaring anger in their eyes, ready to protect the teen when asked.
"You need to stop antagonizing them." He whispers. "Next time you do something they'll give you more than a few bruises."
Marty turns to look at Brian, smile still there. But his eyes are hollow, tired. "You think I don't know that?" He whispers back. Brian choses not to respond, the answer not expected.
As they turn a corner the teen catches sight of a ruffled Simon stalking towards them.
Okay, this is all I could come up with. Hopefully I'll be able to write more next time.
Love you all who haven't given up on me!