November 12, 1955
Thunder rumbled in the sky above. The storm had approached, just like they knew it would. With a quick glance at the time circuits, Marty McFly could see he had less than three minutes until the lightning would strike the clock tower. Three minutes and he'd be back home, ready to save Doc Brown from the Libyans. It seemed as though his mind had formulated the perfect rescue mission - if only the damn car would start!
How many times had he turned the key, waiting for the engine to roar to life? Too many times, that was for sure. "Come on, dammit!" he cried, pushing the pedal to the floor as he turned the key again. Still nothing. "Drive! Please! Go!" Marty slammed his fist into the steering wheel out of frustration. This had taken a week of planning, and he was going to lose it all, all because the god damn car wouldn't start! The current time changed to two after, meaning Marty had two more minutes. The alarm that Doc had set for him had already gone off. Even if he got the car to start, he would be cutting it close. Marty should have already been driving towards the 'weather experiment' that Doc had set up down the street.
With a groan of frustration, the seventeen year old opened the door, hopped out, and gave the time machine a well deserved kick. "You piece of shit!" he shouted, kicking the car once more. Sure, DeLoreans looked cool, but they were really piles of crap. They constantly stalled. Marty knew Doc had had to make the time machine out of a DeLorean because of the 'stainless steel construction', or something, but it was still a dumb idea on the scientist's part. Of course, the Doc of 1985 would have never thought Marty would have been going back to 1955 without enough plutonium to return home.
Marty scrambled back into the car, turning the key once more. Still nothing. "Work, dammit!" he shouted, frantically trying to start the ignition and putting his foot on the gas at the same time. The only response was the clicking of the headlights. He was in trouble.
He gazed down the street, seeing Doc still struggling to free the wire from the tree. The clock ticked forward one more minute. Marty knew he had sixty seconds to pull it together, or he would be stuck in the past forever. There was no way they would be able to predict anymore lightning storms. The boy instantly began to regret not paying very much attention in his history classes.
"Come on, baby," he muttered, twisting the key again. Still nothing. "Come on!" he shouted, continuously turning the key. At this point, he wasn't even expecting anything to happen. If the car actually roared to life, Marty would be beyond shocked. At this point, he knew that he was in trouble. Even if he started the car in time, there was no way he would be able to reach the cable in time. Still, he did not want to give up. He wanted to strike out trying.
All of a sudden, a brilliant flash of light lit up the sky, hitting the Clock Tower, and passing through the cable that Doc had stretched out over the road. Marty could see it all from where he sat in the DeLorean, the car still not working properly. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He was supposed to reach the cable, and he was supposed to be back in 1985 to save Doc. But he wasn't.
Marty pulled his legs up to his chest, holding his head between his knees. He felt like he was going to vomit. His stomach just wouldn't stop doing flips. "What now?" he whispered to himself. "What the hell are we going to do now?" He had a feeling that Doc wouldn't be able to get his hand on any plutonium - at least, not for a long time. Even if he could, Marty knew it would probably be a death sentence. That was what had occurred the last time that the scientist had taken plutonium. His only hope was that 1985-Doc would come back to save him, but was that even possible? Not if he died, as he had the night that Marty had travelled back to the damn 1950s. If he was dead, there was no way he could save the teen.
The sound of someone running down the street tossed Mart out of his thoughts. He had a feeling that it was Doc, but didn't want to look up. He was still feeling nauseous, and he had a feeling that just by moving his head he might end up being sick all over the time machine.
"Marty!" the man shouted, taking a hold of the handle and pulling the car door open. "What the hell happened?"
Marty took a deep breath and looked up at his friend. "The car, Doc," he explained. "It just wouldn't start!"
"Are you alright?" the scientist asked, leaning in closer to Marty. He seemed to be watching the boy's eyes, and that was when Marty realized he was crying. Hot tears of frustration and anger were sliding out of his eyes and down his cheeks. It wasn't supposed to end this way. It just wasn't! He was supposed to be back! If only the damn car had started! If only Doc had packed extra plutonium before the Libyans had shown up. There were a lot of 'if onlys' in Marty's life at the moment, but he needed to stop focusing on those. He needed to stay focused on the present - or the past from his point of view. Then again, if he was stuck here, the past was now his present.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he responded, wiping at his eyes.
Doc tilted his head to the side, looking Marty up and down a few times. Marty knew that the man could see right through his lies - they'd known each other long enough. "Alright," said Doc, clearly deciding to not acknowledge the fact that Marty was anything but fine, "Do you want to get out of there so I can give the car a quick check?"
"I don't know if standing up would be the best idea right now," Marty admitted, still feeling as though he would be sick at any moment. It was probably from shock.
He nodded slowly, still watching Marty with a wary eye. "Just take a few deep breaths and see if that helps to steady you out," he suggested.
"You're the Doc, Doc," Marty replied, following his friend's instructions. He sucked in a few deep breaths, holding them and then exhaling slowly. He still didn't feel great, but figured that getting to his feet might be a little safer now. Slowly, the seventeen year old pulled himself out of the DeLorean. As he stood, the world began to spin before his eyes, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. Still, Marty would have preferred to be sitting, just in case. He slid down onto the pavement, leaning his back against the front tire of the DeLorean. He glanced upwards, noticing that the sky was still dark. He hoped that it wouldn't start raining.
As Marty sat, he could hear Doc muttering to himself. He couldn't quite make out the words, but he could also hear the sound of the headlights clicking as the scientist tried to start up the car. Clearly, he was getting the same results as Marty had been getting. That made him feel a little better about the whole situation.
He wasn't sure how long he sat on the ground, his head back in his knees, but he knew it was long enough for rain to start coming down on Hill Valley. It was nothing to strong, just a little more than a drizzle, but it was enough to dampen the teenager's already depressed mood.
"I can't seem to find the problem, Marty," Doc finally said, stepping out of the car, a frown on his face. "We will have to bring it back to my lab for a more thorough check up. The Packard's down the street. Do you think you could drive it over here? I'll see if we can do the same thing that we did the first time we had to bring the DeLorean to my garage."
Marty brought his head up enough that his eyes were peeking over the bend in his knees. "I don't know, Doc. I don't feel like I'm really in any real mindset to be driving right now."
Doc seemed to think that over for a moment, before nodding his head in agreement. "I presume you're right," he admitted. "You should now your own body and capabilities better than I would. If you just wait here, I'll go and get the car. Then we can bring the time vehicle back to the lab and I can see if I can find the problem." He paused for a moment, almost hesitant to speak again. "You, ahem, might be here for a while."
Marty nodded his head slowly, looking back down at his knees. There it was. The Doc had just sealed his fate. If the smartest man that Marty knew said that he might be there for a while, Marty had a feeling that it was the truth. "Just say it," he muttered.
"Hm?" Doc asked, although Marty wasn't sure if he was asking for confirmation or if he just had not heard what the seventeen year old had said.
"I said just say it!" Marty snapped, bringing his head up to look at Doc. "Just say it already! I'm screwed! ! I'm screwed! I'm stuck here! How else can I get back to 1985? With no plutonium and no lightning bolt, I'm stuck here forever!"
"I wouldn't say forever..."
"Just admit it!" shouted Marty, seeing the hurt look on the scientists face. He didn't even care. He was sick of the Doc beating around the bush. He could feel the tears starting ot pour out of his eyes again. "It's better to just tell me the truth than give me all this false hope! What happens when I'm still stuck here five years from now?"
Doc let out a soft sigh. "Something could always happen, you now. My future counterpart could show up in the time vehicle, saving you-"
"Wouldn't that have already happened?" Marty shouted. He knew he was being irrational and lashing out at his friend for no reason. It wasn't Doc's fault the DeLorean had stalled. It wasn't anyone's fault, really. Marty just needed some way to get out his feelings, and yelling at the Doc seemed to be the only way that would work. "Wouldn't you come back right after the lightning struck the Clock Tower? Because, obviously, you can tell I'm freaking out right now! I don't think you'd want to put me through something like this!"
"Perhaps my future counterpart decided returning to this point might be dangerous to the space time continuum. He might, in fact, run in to me as he tried to return you to 1985."
Marty let out a soft sigh, pushing his wet hair off of his forehead. "Just go get the car, Doc," he breathed, trying to keep his voice down. He didn't want to make the older man think he was upset with him. He was just upset in general. "I just wanna get back to your place."
"Alright Marty," Doc said, giving his friend a pat on the back. "Maybe we can talk about this more once we get inside and get ourselves dried off a bit."
He nodded as the scientist walked away, although he didn't really agree. What else was there to talk about? He was stuck there. That was that. There was no way out of it. He was stuck in the 1950s, growing up at the same time as his parents. Jesus, if he stayed in that time forever, he'd be the same age as his parents by 1985. He'd no longer be the seventeen year old slacker. He'd be a forty seven year old, most likely with a job to help support a family.
He'd have a wife, and her name would never be Jennifer Parker. Not at this rate. If things went the way Marty was perceiving they would go - meaning he was stuck in 1955 - he'd never see Jennifer again. Not for another thirteen years, anyways, and even then she would only be a baby. There was no way their relationship could continue. Marty felt the tears once more, welling up in his blue eyes, this time more out of the fear of all he'd lost than out of frustration. He'd lost so much, all because the damn car just didn't want to start. How unfair was that?
The teenager continued to sit in the rain, enveloped in his thoughts. How much would change for him now? He was going into a predetermined future. Sure, Doc had told him that times can always change, but could they really change all that much? His mother and father were happily together now, and he knew the outcome of pretty much every major event in the next thirty years to come. He knew when the Beatles would break up, when Elvis Presley would die, when he and his siblings would be born. And, to top it all off, he knew when the Doc would be shot by the Libyans. Now he had all the time he wanted to explain to the scientist the words he had written in the letter, but would he really want to hear them?
"Come on Marty, it's time to go," Doc said, placing a hand on Marty's shoulder. He jumped, not having realized Doc was back already. The older man held out a hand and Marty accepted it, being helped to his feet. His head was reeling from all he'd been through. He still felt physically ill, probably because he knew what was awaiting him in the next thirty years.
He walked over to the Packard and settled into the passenger seat. Doc used a chain to hook the DeLorean and the Packard together so he could bring both of them back to his home. The engine of the car started up smoothly, and Marty let out a soft moan at the sound. If only the time machine had done that. If only it had cooperated. But it hadn't, and there was nothing that he could do about it now.
Leaning his head against the window, Marty closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The rain started to get harder, the farther they drove away from the Courthouse Square. To Marty, it felt like a transition. The Clock Tower was where all his dreams had come crashing down. It was where he had gone from the teenager in the 1980s to the teenager of the 1950s. Marty just wasn't sure if he would ever really be ready to make that change.
A/N: I decided to do some re-working of this chapter and the next, and then hopefully continue the story as originally planned. I didn't change anything major here, just rewrote some parts because I feel as though my writing style has somewhat changed since June. The plan here is still to do one chapter from this Marty's point of view, then the next chapter from post-1968 Marty's point of view, and then back to this Marty, etc. I just feel that for this Stuck-in-the-50s-Marty, those are the two defining moments for him; when his present became the past and when his past met his future. I hope you enjoyed t his! Drop me a review so I can improve :)