Work Text:
“I suppose apples don't fall far from the tree. You’re not going to believe this, but when I was young-” Emmett trailed off watching his two kids run off to another expedition at the world fair, probably getting into trouble later.
“-I was a bit of a handful”
“No!” Obviously Clara did not believe him. Or maybe she did and was being sarcastic. She was a handful as a kid, but not to the same extent as Jules and Verne are. Verne especially. Wherever he turns, he sees a new adventure waiting, even if that will be dangerous. Clara was never like that, she was more like Jules, just watching from the sidelines, going along just to see the result. But then, from where Verne got that?
“But I am sure they both will grow out of it, after all, I did too. Not before I made sure Strickland paid-” Emmett has a bad habit of sometimes saying too much…
“Oh now you have to tell me” Clara sat down on the bench. The 1900’ World Fair can wait. She has a story to hear.
And a story it was. It started in the good old 1923. Emmett at the time was 9: tall for his age, messy blonde hair, always had a plaster on his face. The boy never had a lot of friends, however, for some time he had a couple of older friends. Arthur McFly was 16 back then: skinny, tall and wimpy. He didn’t talk a lot, and so he was not that close with Emmett but even so, he stuck around. He felt bad for the boy, he was an outsider. He also stuck around because he felt like if he didn’t, Emmett would come up with an idea how to overthrow the government. Yes, Emmett was that kind of kid. Arthur stuck around for the greater good.
Arthur's new found friend Sylvia just moved here from Canada. She was 14. Blonde, stylish. She could care less if the 9 year old overthrew the government, she is here for the ride. She always wanted a little brother, so helping him with the mischief is all she needed.
The mischief was nothing serious most of the time. Would it be nearly taking out a nail out of a teachers chair so that when they sit it breaks, or would it be switching the salt and sugar in the teachers lounge. They are harmless pranks, but over time one must go nuts after experiencing them more often. Even before reading Jules Verne, Emmett was interested in science if that meant he could play more elaborate pranks. He especially loved the static shocks the balloons and hair caused. With age some pranks turned more serious, but more rare. Sylvia helped him with all of them. After all, a kid must put his energy somewhere.
The other two even younger kids were not fans of the mischief. One was anxious about it -Marcus Irving- and other was completely against it -Gerald Strickland-. Marcus was one year younger than Emmett, and Gerald was three years younger. Strickland never liked the others. They were too wild, too careless, and hell, they did not go by the rules! Ignored everything Strickland stood for.
The most known adventure of theirs that even made it into the front pages of newspapers. The day to make history has just begun, the sun is rising, the dew on the grass has not dried yet. The adventure could be smelled just around the corner. Or the correct saying would be around the mine. The Delgado mine to be exact. A long ago abandoned cave. Till this event the two signs that stood next to it were enough to keep people away. “Danger” and “No Trespassing”
The “No Trespassing” sign seemed so inviting to the kids. While Gerald and Emmett argued if they should go or not, Arthur and Sylvia wandered around, especially around the cemetery right beside the mine. When on a gravestone they saw a familiar name of “Emmett Brown”. What a coincidence! But their laugh was cut short when their Emmett won at a coin toss. And that means they are going inside the mine.
It was a dark, damp cave. No signs of life in sight. The roof was poorly held by a few boards. It was very unsafe, but it smelt like an adventure.
Arthur picked up an old lantern, and with his lighter lit up the small candle that was left inside. That was all the light they got. Then the cave was alighted: it was dark, damp, eerie and unsettling. Many myths about why it was abandoned.
“It feels like an adventure” Sylvia commented and ran a bit ahead. Emmett followed and added:
“Well when I grow up I want to be an explorer!”
“Didn’t you want to be a cowboy?” Sylvia stopped for a second. That made Emmett stop for a moment too and wonder.
“Yeah that too!”
Arthur was shortly behind, in one hand he held the lantern, in the other hand he took Irvings hand. The poor boy was shaking. He was not much of an adventurer, not at all mischievous.
“If we go further in there you might as well not grow up at all!” The teen said in an unusually stern voice for him. While that took Emmett off guard he took it as a challenge.
“Oh Arthur, don’t be a wuss!”
After continuing walking and taking sharp turns did they see Strickland was missing. Marcus got closer and closer to Arthur. At some point he needed to be carried, that’s how the poor boy was scared.
They picked up rocks, lanterns, pickaxes, everything that was left behind. And once they offered Strickland a pickaxe they noticed he was missing. This mine is dangerous, and a child like that could get easily hurt. Stanford could have stepped on a pickaxe, or a rock fell on him. He could have wandered off!
They had no idea how far they had gone. As they spoke the echo got back to them distorted.
Echo, this time an unfamiliar one from behind them was heard. It was so distorted, the kids did not understand anything. It was clear that the echo was of a couple of people. How many? They had no clue.
All 4 stood in place, all freaking out. But they are all completely different people when it comes to stress. Arthur wants to curl up in a ball with Marcus in his hands, and so he does. He jumps to the worst conclusions: what if these people are mean? What would they do to them?
While Arthur sits curled up with Marcus, Emmett and Sylvia take off running. This time they forgot the lantern. They were running in the dark. Slipping. Falling. Getting up. And running again.
At some point Sylvia lost Emmett. Did he trip? Did he fall and hurt his leg? But no, Emmett had picked up a pickaxe and was ready to fight whoever was coming. He was shaking, the pickaxe was trembling from how heavy it was. When Sylvia realized she had lost Emmett she ran back. The people they were running from got to Emmett first.
Sylvia stopped in her tracks. She was far enough to not see the people. But she was close enough to see that they had flashlights and that they were flashing it at the kid, who had dropped the pickaxe. She ran to the kid but one of the people flashed the flashlight at her making her cover her eyes. The light was burning her eyes.
“Alright, the kids are all found” One man declared to the others way back of them. Neither Emmett or Sylvia saw the man, but they recognised his voice - one of the police officers.
“What about Strickland?” Sylvia asked. The boy was probably lost! These mines are not for children like him. What caught the girl off guard was how rough the police officers were.
“He's out of the cave” The other officer spit out and got hold of Emmetts arm. It was that unexpected that he flinched. No matter how used he is to his father having a rough parenting style, it still freaks him out.
The color drained from his face when he .remembered his father. The thought of him finding all of this out makes his stomach turn. If he is outside the mine, Emmett won't hear the end of it. Hell! He might as well not grow up at all! Unvollanterally he took a few steps back, but the officer that was holding his wrist was not budging, only tugged him, causing him to fall forward. Unlike his previous actions, the officer pulled Emmett back up.
The damp, cold and rocky mine's end is visible. The sun was setting, dew long gone, cold breeze hovered the mine and the audience at its entrance. Arthur and Marcus were dragged out first. They weren't fighting. They complied, even shocked at the audience they gathered. Arthur, being the older and wiser teen, instantly saw his parents, a couple that looked like Sylvia's parents, a couple with glasses -Obviously Marcus’s parents-. Stricklands he could recognise everywhere, the husband was bald. But the Browns. No Browns? Many more people stood there, yet none of them looked like how Arthur had imagined Emmett's parents.
His own parents rushed to him, so did Marcuss parents. How sweet they were. They took Marcus off his hands. There was no yelling like they expected. They were worried, and tended to them. Asked if they were alright, cleaned the dust off their faces. However, the peacefulness lasted mere seconds, Emmett and Sylvia were dragged out of the cave. But who was yelling? Not them, but a shorter, glassed, graying man.
The yelling was directed at the man's son, Emmett. Names such as disappointment, shame of the family, idiot, and others were thrown around. No One dared to intervene, the parents looked from the sidelines keeping their children close. All silently judging, yet making it a perfect time for a lesson for their kids on how good they have it compared to the poor boy.
Emmett tried reasoning with his father. Tried explaining himself, promising to never do such a thing again. He was in tears which the man despised even more, he was about to slap Emmett when his mother finally intervened.
Everyone had expected an even bigger fight, however, the man looked around, and set off back to the town. Probably could not put his reputation on the line… The woman acted like a polar opposite to the man, took her son's hand and wiped the dirt off his face. Emmett hid his face, he did not look at his mother, or his friends -they were surrounded by their family either way-, or police officers or anyone. The crowd started to leave the mine sight. Just a few police officers stayed and blocked the mine entrance with stones and wood.
When Emmett's mother got a note to come to the police station in a few days, she did not yell at her son like he expected. They just walked home. It began in silence. The whole way Emmets head hung low. So his mother began to speak.
“You know, it was abandoned for a reason.” Mrs Brown spoke.
“I know” a mumble was heard from the boy. He did not look at his mother.
“You could have been seriously hurt” The mother spoke firmly. “Or worse!”
“I know”
Emmett had no other things to say, but his mother had plenty. He does not remember all the things she said. But one thing was for sure, she never yelled, yet the points came across.
Somehow her unusual stern tone sounded more comforting than his fathers general tone.
“-What would your father say?” Mrs Brown asked. That snapped Emmett back into reality. He has gone home earlier than them, but now Emmett is afraid to go home. He won't hear the end of it from Arthur or Sylvia. The boy felt the color drain from his face. He did not even care when his mother said he wouldn't be allowed to listen to the radio for 2 weeks. He is afraid to go home.
But the house is on the horizon. If he ran, he would have nowhere else to go. Emmett just took his mothers hand for some sort of support, knowing he had screwed up. The boy still hopes his father will go easy on him, even if that was a small chance. Not even remotely possible.
Mrs Brown had no time to open the door because Erhardt had already done so. His son looked up at him and was ready for the moral he was about to read too.
“Just go to your room” Erhardt hissed through clenched teeth.
That’s it? No yelling? No screaming? No anything? That took Emmett off guard, but he ran to his room before his father changed his mind.
Only when dinner time came did he find out he was grounded. His mother told him that. Then she was surprised when Emmett was happy. He expected to be disowned.
The boy has no idea for how long he will be grounded, but it has been a week. He walks in circles in his room, then he jumps on his bed and looks out the window. And he sees Strickland. Walking all snarky. Something in Emmett snaps. That tattletale. His hands start itching and he would throw a rock at him. But he cannot. He would be in bigger trouble than he is now. He needs to think of a plan.
For the last week before school Emmett starts gathering spoiled vegetables and fruits, spoiled milk. He kept it in one place. When his mother asks him about it, he says it’s for an upcoming school project. And so the school year came. Strickland starts his first grade. For him this year will be the true time the discipline will come into play. His whole existence is based on it.
Now, at this point in time, Emmett thinks he is being cruel. But Strickland was a tattletale. Noone likes tattletales. And so when PE came, Emmetts class and Strickland's class had PE at the same time. When every boy got dressed and left the dressing room, Emmett poured the “Spoiled potion” into Strickland's outerwear shoes. He even left a note
“Noone likes Tattletales”.
Emmett is not dumb, he changed his writing, and quickly ran from the crime scene. When Strickland after PE snitched again, no one believed him. How could Emmett - such a sweet, puppy-eyed, kid do such a thing.
Days, weeks, months, years, decades passed. Emmetts blame was not proven. Brown had already married and had kids of his own. On paper they were not his. But from his wife's past marriage. He “adopted” two boys. Jules and Verne. While from first glance you could maybe say Jules was not his, only when you get to know him better you see the resemblance. When you look at Verne it was clear he was 100% Emmetts. Not many people think that. After all, not many people saw him as a kid, also “documents don’t lie”
Vice-principal Strickland is an avid believer that Verne is Emmett's biological kid. There is no way that the kid is from Claras “previous marriage”.
When Strickland first saw the list of new kids that will join the school the following school year, he felt his heart drop to his heels.
“Jules and Verne Browns? It can’t be! The only Brown I know is 71! He can’t have kids!”
He just had to see the kids.
Whole summer he sat on nails, waiting for the school year, and when it came his worst fears came true. One kid only had Emmett’s eyes. But the other one is a pure copy on the looks department. Maybe Strickland's old mind is playing tricks on him. Maybe since he was stressed he did not see the kid correctly.
In the middle of the school year, Verne got into trouble with some kid. Yet only Verne was called to see the vice-principal. Strickland sat there, sharpening his pencil, checking the kids' records. When the door opened he looked up from the files. What he saw made his face turn pale. It’s like someone from his past had just walked in. A tall for his age, plasters on his face, puppy-eyed, blonde kid. Verne Brown.
“What happened, Brown?” Strickland looked over to the boy.
“I switched John's milk with spoiled milk,” Verne explained and smiled.
“Why?” The vice-principal stood up, looming over the boy.
“Because no one likes Tattletales”