


My Friend, My Brother, My Son

by Ael L. Bolt



Category: Back to the Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-08
Updated: 2005-02-20
Packaged: 2013-08-25 09:57:35
Rating: K+
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,835
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2255042/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/45054/Ael-L-Bolt
Summary: George thinks on the mystery that is Marty Klein. [No slash, implied or otherwise.] [Was going to have eight installments, but I lost my notes, and it can stand as it is.]





	1. Guilt

Installment one – Guilt

My heart races as I frantically pedal away from the scene on my bike, cheeks burning with shame. I can't believe I left that poor kid in the middle of the street…the guy saved my life and all I do is run off? You're a damn coward, McFly. I don't even know if he's hurt.

He was a weird kid…dressed like he jumped ship or something, and the way he kept _staring_ at me…but that's no excuse for my behavior. Why oh why didn't I have the courage to stay long enough to just see if he was still alive?

I pull my bike over to the side of the road, gasping for air. I recognize my surroundings; I'm only a few blocks away from the courthouse square. Involuntarily, my gaze strays to Lou's Café, the first place I'd seen my savior.

Why was he following me? And how did he know my name? He just seemed to drop out of the sky and latch onto me. I guess it would make sense if he was an alien or something, but …

Stop that, McFly! He's not an alien, he's just some guy who you abandoned in the middle of the street after he got hurt trying to save _your_ pathetic life.

I can't stand the thought of what I've done, so I turn my bike around and slowly pedal back to the house. The loud man's car is in the driveway now, and my unexpected savior is being carried by the loud man and what looks to be his very pretty daughter. The kid is still unconscious, and I feel another surge of guilt. What if he's badly injured? What if he dies? That could have been me…_should_ have been me.

I climb off my bike and watch from behind the tree I'd fallen out of not five minutes before. I recognize the girl now; it's Lorraine Baines, the prettiest girl in school! I wish I had the courage to talk to her…

I watch from the shadows as they disappear into the house, leaving me alone in the street. I should go knock on the door, ask if he's okay…but what if they just yell at me, or what if I get arrested for letting the other guy get hurt? Or what if the guy wakes up and blames me? No, I can't do that…I just can't.

Still shaking slightly from the adrenaline, I get back on my bike and flee towards home. As soon as I step through the door, Mom realizes something is wrong.

"George, dear, are you all right?" she asks before I can sneak to my bedroom. "You look rather pale."

"I'm fine, Mom," I assure her, and I can't help but think that if that guy hadn't pushed me out of the way, that statement would be a total lie. I open my mouth to confess what had happened, but the words won't come. What would my mom say if she knew? Would she hate me? Disown me?

I turn away and dash up the stairs to my room, unable to face human life at the moment. Tomorrow after church, I'll go and see if that guy was okay. Just not now…I'll do it later, when the guilt is easier to bear.


	2. Fear

Installment two – Fear

Mister Strickland scares me, I'll admit it. He offers no mercy and lets my tormentors go free while lecturing me about being a slacker. I'm _not_ a slacker, though…can I help it if I'm not popular?

Sighing to myself, I kneel down again to pick up my books, cheeks burning in shame. I can't believe I let them push me around like this sometimes, but I'm just too scared. I know I'll never be able to stand up to them; I'm so afraid of pain.

I'm even too scared to go back to the Baines house and ask how that guy is doing. I almost did it; I stood across the street and watched for any sign of him, but I never saw him. Maybe he was so badly hurt that he's in the hospital. Maybe he's dead! Maybe I shouldn't try to find out; if he _is_ dead I'll be so guilty…

"George, buddy, I have been looking all over for you!" a strangely-familiar voice says cheerfully, and I look up at the speaker as he hands me one of my books. "You remember me? The guy who saved your life the other day?"

I can't help but stare at him in shock. It's _him_, the guy from the café! He's not wearing odd clothes anymore, but after what he did, I'd recognize him anywhere. "Yeah…" I stammer in surprise.

What does he want? Does he blame me for letting him get hit? Maybe he wants to beat me up, too…I can't help but flinch slightly as he places his hand on my shoulder, leading me somewhere…avoiding witnesses? "There's someone I'd like you to meet," he says evasively. Fear consumes me as I meekly go along with it, shifting my grip on my pile of books. He may be smaller than me, but I'll bet he hits hard…

To my surprise, he leads me straight to a group of girls, including the gorgeous Lorraine Baines! My jaw drops in shock as he steps right up to the beautiful young woman. "Lorraine," he calls out.

Lorraine, gorgeous Lorraine, turns around and immediately backs straight into her locker. "Calvin!" she exclaims. Calvin…so that is my rescuer's name? It sounds so…impersonal, intimidating, and generally not-friendly. Is he planning on humiliating me in front of her? I cannot, for the life of me, understand what he's up to, and that frightens me more than anything.

"I'd like you to meet my good friend, George McFly," Calvin announces, clapping me on the shoulder.

Oh…

The fear of talking to such a beautiful girl overwhelms me for a moment. What if she laughs at me? Can she tell I'm desperately in love with her already? What if us mere mortals just don't register in her heavenly mind?

"Hi," I say almost automatically, my voice quiet with shyness. "It's really a pleasure to meet you."

My heart plummets down to my socks as she doesn't even acknowledge my existence. "How's your head?" she asks Calvin instead, reaching out as if to caress his hair.

"Oh, uh, good, fine," Calvin responds uneasily, leaning back to avoid her touch. Almost as if…he was afraid of her?

"Oh, I've been so worried about you ever since you ran off the other night," she persists. "Are you okay?"

So…he _must_ have been afraid, if he ran away from her. I understand completely, but I can't tell anyone that. The bell rings, and I'm too afraid to be late to class. Who knows what might happen?

Besides, staying there is pointless. Lorraine obviously doesn't even know I was there. Sighing to myself, I clutch my books a little tighter to my side and slip away into the crowd. However, my thoughts stay with this strange boy named Calvin, and what new torments he might unleash upon me.

Everybody does sooner or later, and I fear not knowing what to expect.


	3. Desperation

Installment three – Desperation

I wake up, and for a few moments I'm totally disoriented. Why am I so groggy…? It's not normal…

Not normal…

The alien!

I sit bolt upright in bed, and immediately take a dive face-first into the carpet. What the…? I struggle to my feet, and pain shoot through my neck as I straighten it. My eyes dart to the clock and I'm dismayed to see that it's nearly three in the afternoon. I overslept? Oh, I'm in such trouble…but I have a reason!

I think back to the previous night, trying to sort through muddled memories. Just recalling the frightening yellow specter gets my heart racing again, and I remember him giving me a mission…what was it?

The answer comes to me easily. _Take Lorraine to the dance._

Yes, that was it. The alien ordered me to take the beautiful Lorraine to the dance on Saturday, or…he'd melt my brain? I don't think that's the threat he made, but it must've been something equally as terrifying, because I can't remember it.

And then…then what? He told me to close my eyes, and then…he must've used a stun ray or something, that must be why I was asleep for so long, and why I have this headache.

Don't be stupid, George. As much as you love science fiction, it was just one hell of an intense dream you had last night. It had to be.

I start to breathe out a sigh of relief as I turn towards my window…

And there, caught in the slivered wood, is a shred of yellow fabric.

My heart ceases to beat as I stare at the innocent-looking piece of cloth…is it cloth? Who knows what it's made of? I never thought to ask an alien what it makes its clothing out of. Afraid that I'm hallucinating it, I hesitantly reach out and pull it away from where it's caught in the wood. It's like no fabric I've ever felt, yet it's just what I expected.

I _was_ visited by an alien last night!

I scramble to change out of my pajamas and into my normal clothes. Without even bothering to comb my hair or tuck in my shirt, I grab my notepad and run downstairs. My parents are gone for the day, so there is no one to witness my mad rush to get out of the house. I have to find Lorraine, and ask her…

Hold up one second, McFly! You can't just walk up to Lorraine and ask her to the dance! You've never voluntarily spoken to any girl besides your mother.

For a moment I just stand at the end of the sidewalk, feeling lost and not a little desperate. I have to ask her…I _have_ to! I can't do it alone, though…I need help. But who would help me ask Lorraine out?

The answer is so obvious, even _I_ should have remembered. The face of Calvin, my unusual savior, flashes before my eyes. Yesterday he kept appearing between my classes, trying to convince me to even _talk_ to Lorraine. Was he given the same command from the alien, to make me ask her out? I tried to ignore him as much as I could after the incident in the cafeteria, but he just seemed to become more and more desperate to help me talk to Lorraine. His fearful reactions to her affections seem obvious now; the alien told him that she was meant for me.

A sudden nagging thought appears at the back of my mind. I didn't notice it last night, but the alien spoke in a very familiar voice. He sounded just like Calvin…or is it Marty? I heard Lorraine call him by that name right before lunch yesterday.

As I set off at a jog for the courthouse square, my mind races. Did the alien merely take Calvin's voice, hoping I would find it familiar and obey? Or is there something else beneath all this that I'm not seeing? Could it be possible that…no, it can't be.

As I enter the square, my eyes frantically scan the area for any sign of Calvin. And there he is, standing beneath the awning at the Texaco station, holding an unopened bottle of Pepsi.

"Calvin!" I shout, but he doesn't react. I run towards him, cutting across the grass in front of the courthouse, my mind going back to his other name. "Marty!"

This time, he looks up immediately, turning to face me. His eyes widen slightly, and I just barely manage to skid to a stop as a car passes by. Without his warning, I might've been hit…but that's not important right now. "Marty, Marty!" I repeat, dashing across the street to face him, feeling like I've just run a marathon.

"Hey, George, buddy," he greets me, and he does something to the Pepsi bottle that doesn't seem to have any effect on it. "You weren't at school. Where've you been all day?" he continues.

"I overslept," I admit, and watch him carefully for any reaction. A flicker of something….fear, perhaps? ...goes through his eyes, and he seems to freeze for a moment. Analyze that later, McFly! "Look, I need your help," I plead with him. "I have to ask Lorraine out, but I don't know how to do it."

Marty looks almost pleased as he replies. "All right, okay, listen, keep your pants on." What? What does that mean? "She's over in the café," he continues, not noticing my confusion, and keeps doing….whatever he was doing…to his bottle of Pepsi. "God, how do you…?" he mutters to himself.

Abruptly I realize that he's trying to open it, and grab it from him, popping the cap off and handing it back in one smooth motion before heading for the café. There's silence for a moment – maybe aliens don't have caps like that on their drinks? – before I hear his footsteps catching up with me. "What made you change your mind, George?"

Hell with it, I might as well tell the truth. He'd be the most likely to believe me, even if he's not…

"Last night, Darth Vader came down from Planet Vulcan and told me that if I didn't take Lorraine out, that he'd melt my brain!" I explain, desperately hoping that he'll believe me.

To my satisfaction, and not a bit of fear, he doesn't look at all surprised by this news. "Yeah, well…uh, let's keep this brain-melting stuff to ourselves, okay?" he says casually, but his eyes almost hold a hint of…warning.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," I agree hurriedly, my suspicions confirmed. Marty is an alien, and he wants me to take Lorraine to the dance. Why? Why would it be so important?

I only know one thing; if I don't take Lorraine out, the alien will melt my brain. I need to do it now, before the alien becomes too impatient with me. Desperate times call for desperate measures, after all.


	4. Denial

Installment four – Denial

It's all over the school…Lorraine, beautiful Lorraine, is going to the dance with Calvin…Marty, rather. I can't help but wonder if maybe I'm going to be punished for not asking her properly…I did try, but then Biff showed up…

A thought occurs to me. Maybe Biff is an alien, and his kind likes to manipulate the lives of Earthlings for the worse…

Oh, that's ridiculous. Biff is definitely not an alien; there's no evidence for it and he's lived in Hill Valley for as long as I can remember. No, the only extraterrestrial in town is Marty, and now he's taking Lorraine to the dance.

I have to do a double-take as I see the focus of my thoughts standing in the hallway mere feet away, leaning against a row of lockers. He doesn't look angry with me, so maybe my brain won't be melted after all…

"Hi, George," he greets me, falling into step next to me as I head to the exit.

I can't help but wonder if he's placed some kind of tracking device on me. He keeps turning up everywhere I go…but _why_? What is so important that he has to follow my every move? "Hi Marty," I mutter in reply. "Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday…I tried to ask her, I really did. Congratulations, by the way."

Marty looks distinctly uncomfortable at that. "Uh…that's okay, George, it wasn't your fault. I understand that. And as for the dance…well, she's just trying to figure out how she feels about you, but I'm sure she wants you to go to the dance with her. She only agreed to go with me because she knew you'd be there too."

My heart nearly stops. "Oh…are you sure?" I ask, a strange warmth blossoming in my chest. Perhaps it's not such a lost cause after all. But wait… "How is that going to work? She's already going with you."

"Don't worry," Marty says confidently, although his eyes betray a smidge of uneasiness. "I have a plan. You may not like it, but neither do I, and I think it'll work."

That doesn't sound good. "What do you mean?" I inquire nervously as we walk down the sidewalk.

"Well, it's…kind of hard to explain," Marty answers evasively. "Let's see now…you come to the dance on your own, and Lorraine and I will get there around eight-fifty. I'll be driving my uncle's Packard, so it should be easy to spot. Around nine o'clock, I'm going to make her…upset. When that happens, you show up, and save her from me by punching me in the stomach." He pauses to let that sink in.

"What!" I nearly shout. "I'm not going to punch you! I can't hurt you." There's no way I'm going to hit the only alien I've ever met, even if he did threaten to melt my brain. What if I hit him too hard, and killed him? Aliens might be more sensitive to that sort of thing than us humans…

"It doesn't have to hurt me," he says hastily, "just look authentic, and I don't mind if you really do hit me a bit harder to make it look good."

I stare at him, wide-eyed. I can't believe I'm hearing this. "I'm not so sure…" I stammer, still in shock.

"Actually," Marty continues as we arrive on the doorstep of my house, "it might be better if you said something before just taking a whack at me."

I can't help myself. "Like what?" I ask in curiosity.

"I dunno, something like 'Hey you, get your damn hands off her!' or something," he replies with a shrug. He looks faintly surprised as I pull out my notepad again and scribble that down. "Um, you might wanna memorize that before Saturday night, George," he suggests gently, staring at the notepad as if he'd never seen anything like it…maybe he hasn't. Maybe aliens don't use paper and pencils to write stuff down.

"Yeah," I agree, reading it over and over to get it fixed into my brain. "But Marty, I don't know how to fight," I admit in shame.

"Don't worry, I can teach you how," he says easily, eyes lighting up. "Do you have any plans for this afternoon?"

"Well, I have to hang up the laundry, but after that all I have is homework," I tell him, still reading over my one line. "I don't know…"

"Perfect," Marty says, sounding rather pleased. "I'll help you out with that, and I'll even help you with your homework, and then we can practice the plan."

Wow. He's really enthusiastic about this whole thing. How can he ever think something like this will work? I can't fight anyone, I never could. I have to give him a chance though, maybe there's something he just hasn't told me about it yet.

"Okay," I agree reluctantly, opening the front door. "Come on in. Just give me a minute to put my school stuff away."

"Oh, George, who's your friend?" Mom asks the instant she sees Marty following me.

"I'm…um, Calvin," Marty says hesitantly. "Calvin Klein, but everyone calls me Marty. Nice to meet you, Mrs. McFly." That last bit sounds as if he wants to say something else, but maybe his people have different honorifics? I've even caught him sounding the same way about my name a few times.

"I didn't know George had any friends from school," Mom continues with a bright smile, but I feel like crawling under the nearest rock. Please, Mom, don't tell the alien how pathetic I am…

"I'm new around here," I can hear him say as I disappear upstairs to drop my homework on my bed. This whole thing is just making me more and more nervous. There's no way I can go through with whatever he has planned. How can he make Lorraine mad, anyway? I've seen the look in her eyes, she just adores him. How can she possibly feel the same towards me?

Marty looks almost relieved when he sees me again, and manages to escape from Mom's probing questions as I grab the laundry basket from the hallway. Let's just get this over with.

"Relax," Marty says, grabbing a duffel bag as we head for the back door. "This will all work out fine."

"I still don't understand," I confess once we're both in the backyard. "How am I supposed to go to the dance with her if she's already going to the dance with you?"

"Because, George, she wants to go with you," Marty declares, "she just doesn't know it yet. That's why we got to show her that you, George McFly, are a fighter. You're somebody who's gonna stand up for yourself, someone who's gonna protect her."

Oh, I don't know if I can do that… "Yeah, but I've never picked a fight in my entire life," I protest. This is not going to work. I just can't see how Lorraine is ever going to end up with me, especially if I have to hit a good friend to do it. I just can't do it. And I just can't remember my lines without my notepad.

I'll never be able to go through with this. I can't deny it.


	5. Courage

Installment five – Courage

It feels like a whole flock of albatrosses have been released in my stomach. Lorraine, beautiful, gorgeous Lorraine is looking into my eyes, walking with me to the gym. "George," she whispers, and the very sound of my name coming from her lips short-circuits my brain. "Thank you," I hear distantly, and all I can look at are her eyes, brown as warm chocolate and as intense as fire, as she puts her hand on my arm.

I can't even remember how to speak; I can barely remember how to breathe. After nearly an entire week of trying, Lorraine knows who I am, and I can see in her eyes…she's chosen me. She's actually chosen me!

The band starts up again with a gentle tune, and something seems different but I just can't be bothered to look when this vision of beauty stands before me. "Let's dance," she suggests softly.

"Oh…um…yeah, yeah," I stammer, finally finding my voice. Lorraine smiles sweetly and leads me out onto the dance floor. I almost forget how to dance, but she doesn't seem to mind, so neither do I.

"George," she says after what seems like an eternity, "aren't you going to kiss me?"

Oohhhhhh… "I…I don't know," I stutter helplessly. Kiss her? I…I'm not sure if I can do that. Punching Biff was one kind of courage, but this…could I…?

A rude shove on my shoulder jolts me out of my daze. "Scram, McFly, I'm cuttin' in," the freckled face of Dixon sneers at me as he pushes me out of the way. All my hopes deflate as quickly as a popped balloon, and I distantly hear an awful sound like nothing I've ever heard before.

Well…I guess I tried. My shoulders slump as I turn towards the stage, hearing Dixon's laugh behind my back. Despairing, my eyes move up to the stage…and suddenly I can't help but freeze.

I don't know why, but Marty was playing with the band, and the awful noise is coming from _him_. As I watch in horror, he holds his hand up in front of his face, revealing its strange transparency. Distantly, I hear Lorraine calling my name as Marty slowly slides to the floor of the stage, doubling over his guitar. As his face contorts in pain and the rest of his body begins to fade, I can just barely hear his voice.

"George…"

And suddenly, I know what I must do, and why. Gathering every iota of courage I have, I spin around and step up to Dixon. "Excuse me," I growl brazenly. Before I can even think about hesitating, I shove him as I hard as I can, knocking him to the floor. I gently pull Lorraine into my arms again, tilting her face upwards towards mine. Her eyes fill with hope, and fireworks seem to explode in my brain as our lips finally meet.

It's everything I've ever wanted, needed, all in such a simple yet meaningful gesture. A strange feeling wells up in my chest, and I finally break the kiss. "Oh George," she murmurs, and I feel like I'm king of the world.

"Lorraine," I breathe back, all my fears forgotten. I hold her close to me, savoring the feeling of her body against mine for a long moment.

As we sway in time with the music, I have to look up at the stage. To my relief, Marty is totally intact and playing the guitar again with a look of relief on his face. As our eyes meet, I raise one hand slightly in thanks. I don't know why, but he seems to depend on my love for Lorraine for his existence, but he deserves to be thanked nonetheless. I can never repay him for this.

He waves back, looking surprised to have his hand opaque again, and gives me a look of intense gratitude before turning back to his playing.

The song comes to a close all too soon, but Lorraine doesn't seem inclined to let go of me. I certainly won't complain anymore.

"All right, let's do another one!" the lead singer exclaims to Marty, looking thrilled for some unknown reason.

"Uh, well, I gotta go," Marty admits, preparing to hand the guitar over.

"Come on, man," the black man persists. "Let's do something that really cooks."

Please, Marty, I owe you so much. Please stay… Unwilling to let him leave so soon, I start to clap. "Yes, encore!" I shout boldly, and the people around me follow my lead.

Marty looks surprised as the whole gym begins applauding for him to play just one more song. "Something that…really cooks," he murmurs, clearly taken aback. He catches my gaze once more, and I nod encouragingly. Marty, you gave me courage to do something I never could've done on my own. Now it's your turn.

He smiles and nods at me, settling the guitar back into place. "All right," he announces and the crowd quiets, "all right, this is an oldie, but, uh…" Even I have to blink at that, the term totally unfamiliar. A…what? Perhaps…that's a type of music from his home planet. Yes, that's the only thing that makes sense. "Well, it's an oldie where…where I come from," he corrects himself, and I have to smile as he turns to direct the musicians. Whatever is to come, it's sure to be like nothing I've ever heard.

The notes that pour from the guitar do not disappoint, the intense alien riff reverberating through the entire gym yet somehow pleasing the ear like nothing on Earth. The crowd quickly catches on and invents their own dances, and as Lorraine swings me into a tango-like move I can't help but wonder if anything could ever bring me down from these lofty heights where I feel neither anger nor fear.

Thank you, Marty, for giving me the courage I've always needed; I will never forget it.


End file.
