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They spot each other through the window. He’s so changed… and yet so much himself. His hair is still thick, the soft brown threaded with gray. His stubble is gray as well. Age has softened him in some places, but not much… The lines time has sculpted gently into his face are more from smiling than frowning, though he looks tired– tired seems a recent development next to the smile lines. His eyes are so startlingly his. He’s wearing a suit, tie loosened. He rushes to open the window, going from stunned to frantic to something Emmett can’t name as he does.
“Today, huh?” Marty croaks. Looks him over, with a depth of feeling he hadn’t expected, though of course he… he must have been gone for some time, now, for Marty. How long, he doesn’t need to know. Maybe not so long, but… thirty years, if he even could still be around in this future, there wouldn’t be much of him left. Of course he’s been missed. If he’s lucky, he’s only been missed maybe half those years. Maybe less.
“Thirty years.” He nods, leaning on the windowsill. “How’ve you been, Marty?”
“Mostly very good. Do you want to come in? I– I mean, around to the door, don’t– Jesus, Doc, don’t climb in through the window, I’ll let you in.”
“Front, back?”
“Normally I’d say front, but… I think it had better be the back door tonight. It’s… it’s just around there, it’ll be the kitchen, but I’ll bring you– I’ll bring you upstairs, just… Jesus.” He sighs, running a hand over his face.
It’s a nice kitchen that he’s let into, homey. The appliances of the future are of some interest, but not nearly as much as just seeing the signs of Marty’s life. The refrigerator magnets from trips to places up and down the state– some for cities and towns, some for specific attractions. A mug sitting out on the counter with a picture of a drill and the words IF PAPA CAN’T FIX IT, WE’RE ALL SCREWED. Dishes in the sink. A vase on the table, somewhat overflowing with white flowers. The breakfast nook has an old jukebox tucked in beside the bench seating that runs behind the table.
“Just… be quiet, I don’t wanna wake the kids, I– I really can’t wake the kids, it– it was a long day. You don’t… I don’t think you want to know everything. There’s enough you’ll find out and there are things you don’t need… But you have no idea how good it is to see you tonight.”
“Your kids.” He smiles. Any jealousy he might feel towards Marty’s future spouse is… a distant consideration. A thing he’s had a long time to accept. The thought of the kids themselves gives him nothing but joy.
The house they move through is lived in, comfortable looking. Schoolbooks strewn across the coffee table, where Marty stops and turns off the TV he’d been watching. A riot of texture and color, the space concerned more with comfort than adhering to showroom perfection. Stained glass lamps casting warm, soft light over more vases of those same flowers, squashy throw pillows and a handmade looking afghan on the couch. He dares a touch– wool. Finds himself briefly distracted by the bookcase. A carriage clock sits on top of the whole thing, and then the books themselves, and halfway down…
“Films on compact disc.” Emmett spots the shelf of them, between the shelves of books. That has to be what they are– some are old enough that he recognizes the movies, but the cases are too slim to be tapes or cartridges. “Fantastic.”
“Doc.” Marty chuckles. “Come on.”
He follows him upstairs– glances at the chair lift they pass.
“Put that in after the, uh… the snowboarding incident that the kids still haven’t let me live down.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Wound up being worth it. I didn’t have to sleep on the couch the whole time I was recovering, and– and I’m not telling you that story.”
“All right. Well, any story you like.”
Marty ushers him into the bedroom, and it fills out more of the picture of his life. Some of the photo frames are turned face down, and he will not lift them, won’t even ask about those– one on Marty’s nightstand and a couple out of the lineup on the dresser. Half the bed is covered in books and file folders and some sort of… plastic document case? A side of the bed it looks like no one has slept on in a while, it doesn’t seem like this is something he’s preparing to move. Both pillows are on Marty’s side– though the alarm is on the nightstand of the empty side. Either he hasn’t been setting it or he has to reach past the mountain of paperwork and books every morning to shut it off.
“I haven’t felt… ready, to–”
“You don’t need to explain. Recent divorce?”
He swallows. “No. Recent, yes. Divorce… no.”
“Oh… Oh, Marty, I am sorry.”
He lets out a watery laugh, shaking his head. “You– Thank you. It’s… hard. It’s hard on the kids. It… wasn’t sudden, and I mean I always knew what– but you find out you’re never really as prepared as you think, and… That’s them, the kids.”
He points Emmett to the pictures that haven’t been turned down. A boy and a girl, they both look so much like Marty… They don’t have his eyes, but they have just about everything else. Them as they must be now, as teens, but also some photos of them as younger children. One of Marty, exhausted in the way perhaps only a new parent could be, sitting on a couch between his own brother and sister, a baby in each arm. Another picture, the kids perhaps barely into their teens and standing to either side of Marty, goggles pushed up to foreheads, snowsuits and snowboards…
“Twins? They’re beautiful. You must be terribly proud of them. Oh, family snowboarding trips, and advanced placement classes… oh– and look at that, a first place in the science fair, and is that a piano recital? Look at that!” He keeps his voice quiet, but the enthusiasm is all there, as he goes through the photos that are on display. “Marty, they’re wonderful.”
“All this past month I thought… I knew this day was coming. I knew you’d gone forward thirty years, that night, I knew before the year was up… I knew you’d come. I knew when you did, you’d find me. I knew I would always come back to Hill Valley and live my life here so you would find me, and…” His voice wavers. “You don’t know, how all this month I’ve been dreaming… dreaming that you’d take my hand and we’d fly off on one more adventure. You’d take me to see some fantastic thing… We could have days together seeing the past and the future and everything, and it would still be like I never left, when they woke up in the morning I’d be right here like I never even left, but then I thought… I can’t. I… I could spend forever seeing all of time with you and come back to this same point, but every day I spend with you now would be a day I’m taking away from their future. And I can’t…”
“Of course.” He nods. “No, of course.”
“I’m all they’ve got and I know I’ve still got a lot of life left ahead of me, but– but I can’t take a single day away from what they have left of me. I know what it’s worth now.”
“I would never ask you to. All I wanted was to see you– to know that… that in a time past my own natural life, you would be doing all right. And you are, god, look at them.” He picks up one of the photos, can’t stop from smiling at it. At how warmly Marty and the kids look at the person holding the camera, how happy and carefree they are– at least prior to the snowboarding accident, which may have taken place on that very vacation. “Look at them… they’re perfect.”
“They are. They get into their fair share of trouble, but… I don’t think I’d want them any other way. Too much of their parents in them not to.” He laughs. “Too much of their… yeah. They’re perfect.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t have visited you at a happier time, of course, but… but I can see you’ve had a good life.”
“No, Doc, this… this is when I needed you to come. It really is.”
They’re both moving into the hug, no one starts it, it just happens, Marty folding down into his arms, head on his shoulder. For all the changes the years may have brought, he fits into Emmett’s arms just right. Fits like he belongs there, and all he can do is hold him. He’s sure he must have people in his life now who hold him– his parents may still be going strong, certainly his siblings, and who knows what other friends… but day in and day out, Marty is the one taking care of his children in the wake of a recent loss, he has to hold so much together for them, still so young to be losing a parent. It’s immediately clear how much he needs just to be held. He dissolves into him, shoulders shaking, takes in deep breaths trying just to keep holding himself together.
“I’ve got you.” He promises, rocking them back and forth a little. “I’ve got you now… Even if it’s just for right now, I’ve got you.”
“Jesus, I just– I told myself I’d keep it together…”
“You don’t have to.”
“I just… I’ve been waiting for you.” He holds to him even tighter. “I knew I’d see you, and I was waiting for you, it felt like so long…”
“And I’m here. I’m right here. Go on… go on, it’s all right.”
“I miss you.” He sobs. “I miss you so much, I’ve needed you… Why did I think I was gonna keep it together when you came back for me?”
“Why did you think you had to?”
“I don’t know. Because now I’m the adult.” He laughs, sniffling.
“Because you’ve been holding it together for your kids.” He squeezes him a little tighter. “They just lost their mom… and you have to be there for them.”
“Their pop.” Marty corrects, and then tenses. “Shit, I wasn’t… I wasn’t going to tell you that.”
“The last thing you have to worry about is what I think about that.” Emmett promises, rubbing his back.
“I know.” Another watery laugh. “Believe me, I do, I know. I just… I thought you’d… you’d want to learn everything as it comes. I wasn’t going to… to tell you too much out of order.”
“Did I make it to your wedding?”
“Yeah. You were, uh… you were standing right up at the front with me.”
“Good. I’m glad. I’m glad… I had a good run?”
“Great run. Nothing I could warn you about. Not exactly a lot of ways you can stop old age creeping up on you.”
“No? Not even in the future?”
“Maybe some future. Dismantled the time machine before we ever thought about finding it, though. Something about temptation and grave dangers… and after as much as I saw, I was right with you on that. You try to fix something, you wind up breaking it.” Another sniff, a deep breath. He can feel Marty relax further, leaning heavily into him. “But it would be hard to beat the run you got. I just miss you… I was always going to miss you.”
“I’m glad it was a good run. I’m glad I could be there for you through… through enough, I hope.”
“Yeah. All the good stuff.”
Marty squeezes him hard, before pulling back, wipes at his eyes.
“I’m very glad, that your life has been a good one. And I’m glad that I’ll be able to see so much of it. And I’m glad… I’m glad that I was here tonight, when you needed me to be.”
“I’ve gotta send you back… but so am I. Past me is going to need you more, and soon.” He reaches up, cupping Emmett’s cheek. “God, but I did need to see you tonight. Don’t– don’t waste too much time getting back to him.”
“Marty… then– I’m just glad.” He nods, taking his hand and squeezing it. “And I’m glad– I’m glad you have those kids. I know you feel like you have to hold yourself together to take care of them, but…”
“But it’s worth it. Because if I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t have a reason to hold it together.” He nods. “And they don’t have to try to take care of me, to make it all a little better, they just have to be.”
“They really are beautiful. I see so much of you in them.”
“That’s funny, I look at them and all I see is– I mean, all I see is their– their other– their pop. Their eyes. Color of her hair’s gotta be all– all him. Little things they do or say that are so like– It’s… seeing a piece of the love of my life living on, in two people we both love more than anything.” He sighs. “I just… don’t know how to do it all on my own. There’s so much ahead of them that I don’t… I don’t know how to help them through. Things I know I got through in my own life, but so much has changed when it comes to how the world all works. What if I’m not the parent they need?”
“You are. And you will be. And they’re lucky to have you. I believe that.”
“Yeah, well… that sounds like some pretty unscientific bias speaking, but… you’re the doc, Doc.” He chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets, stopping short. “God, what am I still doing in this damn suit?”
“Long day.”
“Yeah. Too long.” He pulls his tie off, shrugs out of his jacket, drops both on the bed. “I guess I’ll… I don’t know if you want– if asking you to stick around for a cup of coffee is a terrible idea or not. Or if I really care. Borrowing a half hour now isn’t too much, I mean in the grand scheme of things– is it?”
“If you can spare a half an hour tonight, I can.”
“I wasn’t going to sleep tonight. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a minute?” He waves Emmett on, continuing to undress.
“I can find my way back– I might wait for you to show me how to run the coffee maker of the future.”
“Sure thing.”
He lets himself out of the bedroom quietly before Marty gets down to his suit pants, makes his way back down to take in another layer of detail to the kitchen. Knowing what he now knows, the flowers on the table look more funereal– is that what made today so difficult, and so long? Why the suit, and all the fretting? Enough time since the loss for things to pile up on the bed, but still so fresh that it’s made looking at photographs extra hard?
He looks over the magnets again– matches one to the ski lodge where Marty-and-husband must have taken the kids snowboarding. Oakhurst, that must be from taking them out to the lake– and from there to the gem and mineral museum over in Mariposa. San Jose, San Francisco, Anaheim, Hollywood… Monterey Bay Aquarium. A hotel in San Diego. A couple more museums. They’re all for destinations, except for the one that reads BELIEVE IN THE POWER OF A SMILE, the grinning little face of Kit-Cat…
Marty pads in in a worn green henley, plaid pajama pants that, even cuffed, are far too long on him. He gets down a couple of mugs, and starts up the coffee maker– not too complicated, in the end, though the toaster next to it has quite an array of buttons. Marty hands over one of the two mugs– PROUD PAPA, to his own RAD DAD.
“Are all your coffee mugs fatherhood-related?” He smiles down at the one in his hand.
“Two kids, two fathers, and a lot of fathers’ days. The cupboard full of coffee mugs beats the drawer full of novelty ties.”
“Oh, I don’t know. A novelty tie is fun.”
“Well… maybe on the papa who pulls ‘em off, but daddy never could.” Marty laughs. “I tried, you know. I’d wear ‘em to work on Fridays, or... But I just wasn’t much of a tie guy.”
“You look sharp in a tie.”
He shakes his head, smiling down into his own mug. “You won’t be saying that when you see the ones that are weird shapes.”
“Well… maybe you know better than I, then.”
“Oh, I’m going to hold onto that. I know better than you.”
“On many subjects, I’m sure.”
“Maybe.”
“There are so many things I want to ask, that I don’t want to know before my time. I should have been more prepared for that… that I wouldn’t be able to ask you anything that I’ll be around for. And… I’m not sure how to ask, about the things I– the things I’ll miss.”
“Well, a lot of that hasn’t… hasn’t come yet. I mean– I just mean, there’s a lot that– You know, graduation’s still coming, so– so I can’t tell you about that, or what colleges the kids will pick, they’re looking at a lot of then this year… Seeing them grow up and find careers and get married and have kids of their own is all coming up…”
Upstairs a dog barks, and Marty pales.
“Shit– shit– wait for me a sec?”
“Of course, as long as you need.” He nods. Drifts after him as far as the living room, as he rushes upstairs as quietly as he can.
Takes in some of the titles on the shelves, the books on the top shelf– some very familiar, others entirely un– and then the movies. James Mason and Paul Lukas in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea… some future remake of 3:10 to Yuma, because it certainly isn’t Glenn Ford, but he wonders if that inclusion is down to any influence he might have had on Marty’s tastes. Cartoons that must have come out when his kids were small, some more recent things with what he can only imagine is an appeal to teens…
He looks up, feeling only a little guilty, when Marty comes downstairs with the dog on a leash, trying to herd it towards the door, though it rushes for Emmett instead, wiggling excitedly.
“Michio– hey, hey, no– oh jesus, I didn’t even think about the damn dog.”
“Michio?” He sets his coffee mug down where the bookcase offers just enough space, crouches down, letting the dog barrel straight into him. “I didn’t… I didn’t take into account you’d have a– a dog old enough to remember me?”
And clearly, Michio does.
“Hey, if you wake those kids up, I swear to god, this family’s about to have no dogs at all.” Marty hisses. “Michio, hush.”
Emmett laughs– after a couple of excited yips, Michio has hushed well enough, mostly because the dog can’t stop trying to kiss his face.
“They’re still asleep, I take it?”
“Yeah, well, luckily it takes a lot to wake that kid, dog was in his room…”
“I don’t think a middle of the night walk is what Michio here is after.” He unclips the lead when Marty shrugs, resigned. “Ohh, aren’t you good? Aren’t you a handsome animal? Belgian shepherd?”
“Yeah. Yeah, he’s a, um… Malinois? I think?”
If he had to guess, he wouldn’t put Michio at more than two years old. The dog tucks itself into his arms with a whine, and he gives him a little more attention. Einstein is just going to have to handle being a little jealous, when he picks him back up…
When Michio does leave Emmett’s arms, allowing him to stand back up, it’s only to nudge Marty towards him, and then to make for the stairs– Marty grabs for his collar before he can get very far.
“I think perhaps… half an hour was too much to hope for. I don’t want… I believe it would be… difficult to explain my presence, if the dog wakes up the whole house.”
“Doc…”
“I am sorry, I didn’t take a dog into account. I didn’t take so much into account. Marty…”
There’s too much he didn’t take into account. And too much he can tell Marty wants to tell him and can’t. He takes his coffee back through the kitchen, finishing as much of it as he can, and Marty clips the leash back to Michio’s collar, all three of them stepping out into the backyard– where, yes, Michio is entirely uninterested in finding a spot to relieve himself or sniffing after any recent raccoons or possums to have trespassed. But, at least out in the yard, Marty can hold onto a leash instead of stooping to grab the collar, and the agitated little woofs and whines are less likely to disturb anyone. And Emmett can hug Marty goodbye.
“For what it’s worth… if I could…”
“That’s why I’m not asking. That and… and from here, I don’t think I have it in me to go anywhere interesting.” He feels only a little guilty for that lie.
“It’s been a long night for you, yeah.” Marty chuckles, and squeezes him tighter. “I’d offer to let you stay and get some sleep, except…”
“No, I understand. It… it disrupts a lot of things if I come back from the dead, for anyone else but you. I’m, uh… I’m sorry, for however this affects Michio.”
Maybe it won’t. Maybe it won’t have to. Another ten years, and he’ll check. Another fifteen if that’s what it takes. No one can stop time, but as a man who’s learned how to reverse it– or his own position in it– he believes there’s going to be something.
He leaves Marty, after a long, hard hug and a lot of words unsaid. He thinks about the coffee mugs, the funeral bouquets, the fathomless looks and carefully chosen words. The warm brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair on a little girl who otherwise shares Marty’s features. He thinks about the shelf of movies and the shelf above the shelf of movies. He thinks about the familiar scuff on the jukebox and the frantic greeting from Michio. He thinks about the fact that the name Michio was only familiar because it had been a moment ago he’d seen it, on the spines of books with titles like ‘Beyond Einstein’ and ‘Physics of the Future’.
He thinks about how many years he can add back into his lifespan, if he just finds the point at which it is possible. More than enough to offset the time it takes him to find it.
When he goes back, to the present he left his own Marty in, he has a life expectancy of an easy hundred and ten, and if that’s not enough, he knows how far forward he needs to go, for options. Another lease on life and he wouldn’t need the time machine to be able to try for a third. There’s an end point, of course, but… there’s an end point where he will have seen his children grow up. Graduate school. Find careers, marry, have kids of their own? He could be there for that.
“Hey.” Marty greets, sliding into the garage early on Sunday morning, when he ought to be at the lake on a trip he’s been planning with a girl he’s loved, when he is instead bouncing his way into Emmett’s personal space, comfortable. When he perhaps needs that, because he watched him die– or thought he did– and how could he go from seeing him shot to going camping with a girl who can’t know what all he’s just been through?
“Marty. What are you doing here?”
“Dunno. Asking what my life looks like in thirty years– whatever you can tell me, without worrying about changing the future.” He shrugs, ducking his head and rubbing at the back of his neck. Leaving the question of why he’s not with Jennifer to hang there unanswered.
And Emmett’s already changed it, already prevented stifling black suit and funeral flowers, already prevented exhausted grieving teens and a confused dog and a Marty who’ll pick up the pieces all by himself and wait by the window for an invitation he couldn’t accept if it did come… Delayed those things which he couldn’t prevent.
“More happy than not. You’ve been happy– will have been.” He nods, and Marty leans bodily into him, relaxing as he does. Like it’s a place some piece of him already knows he could belong one day.
“I guess that’s all I need to know.”