Archive of Our Own

Dave McFly ran his hand through his hair as he walked down the hall to the living area of the house. For once in his busy, sophisticated life, he didn’t have a lot to do today, and he was going to take advantage of this relaxed day. It was a three-day weekend, he didn’t have any work projects to be making progress on, and his parents weren’t even home- they were using the long weekend to take a short little vacation while their children stayed at home. He was fully prepared to kick back and relax at least for today, with no big plans to do or dilemmas to solve.

Unfortunately for him, fate- and his awful younger siblings- had different plans for him.

“Morning, all,” He announced as he entered the kitchen and walked towards the fridge. Both Marty and Linda looked up at him at his loud arrival, and neither looked impressed.

“Mornin’,” Marty muttered from where he sat at the table, clearly barely awake, eating a bowl of cereal and reading part of the newspaper.

“You are way too awake for this early in the morning,” Linda said to Dave. She was standing at the counter, pouring herself a glass of milk to go with her plate of toast.

Dave glanced at the clock. “It’s already 9:30.”

“Too early.” She yawned, picked up her plate, and headed over join Marty at the table without putting the milk away- actually, without even closing the milk.

“It’s Sunday, it’s always too early until at least 11 on Sundays,” Marty said.

Dave sighed and shook his head. “You have no appreciation for the thrill of waking up early and being productive. Before 2 in the afternoon.” He took the milk that Linda had left out and poured some into a bowl before moving to the pantry to get a box of cereal. “Marty, where’d you put the Cheerios?”

“Same place they always go,” Marty replied, mouth audibly full of wet cereal. Disgusting.

Dave frowned as he searched the pantry. “Are you sure? I don’t see them anywhere.”

“Yeah, they’re in the cupboard next to the bowls, right next to the rest of the cereal,” Marty said confidently, in that annoying, “well, duh” tone of voice. “Same place they always are and always have been.”

...Hm. Now, wasn’t that odd. Dave leaned back from the pantry to look at Marty, who didn’t notice his gaze, and continued to read the paper while stuffing Cheerios in his mouth. “...Marty.”

Finally, Marty looked up at him, wiping a bit of milk off his face. “Hm?”

See, Dave had noticed this several times already, but this past… about a week and a half, maybe two weeks? Marty had been acting odd. And, well, he was already sort of odd at times, but it was just in that teenage boy, little brother kind odd. Not this uncharacteristic type of odd, where he would randomly say completely incorrect things in complete confidence, and then be confused when pointed out that he was wrong, until he got this look on his face of understanding and annoyance, and he wouldn’t talk about it anymore. Or where he would forget entire past events, or have weird, wrong memories of those past events. Or- maybe the most weird thing Dave had noticed so far- where Marty didn’t seem to remember any details about any of his family members' daily lives outside of basic personalities and things that happened to their parents thirty years ago.

And this little incident, while it could just seem like a momentary lapse of Marty’s memory- a little early-morning mistake- was anything but. Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. More than that…. something was up here.

It certainly didn’t help that recently, it seemed as though Linda was in on it, too. She would never do the same sort of weird things that Marty would, but when he did, she wouldn’t look as confused as everyone else. She would nudge Marty, whisper something to him, they would have a little side conversation, et cetera, et cetera. Dave could tell something was weird about the two of them, and he was fully intending on uncovering it already, for his peace of mind. His relaxing Sunday would have to wait.

“Marty,” He continued, delicately, yet firm, “Since when has the cereal ever gone in the cupboard?”

Marty’s chewing slowed to a stop as a look of confusion and dread crossed his face. He swallowed, and then said, “Um… does it… not?” He glanced towards Linda, who didn’t look back at him.

“No,” Dave replied simply. “No, it doesn’t.” He narrowed his eyes and backed away from the pantry to fully turn and face his brother. “You know, I’ve noticed something about you recently. You’ve been acting… odd. Very odd. And the more I talk to you, the more obvious it becomes.”

Marty now looked a little panicked. “Uh, really?” He laughed nervously. “That’s- that’s weird, are you sure?”

Dave crossed his arms. “Very.” He looked at Linda. “And you- come on, you have to have noticed by now. In fact, I’m almost convinced that you know more than you’re letting on here.” He walked over to the table and put a hand on the back of one of the chairs. “So tell me. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Marty instantly- suspiciously- shot back. “Nothing’s going on, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He turned to Linda, looking a little desperate. “Right? He’s talking crazy!”

Linda looked uncomfortable, tired, and above all, annoyed. She glanced between both of her brothers for several seconds, then sighed and finally focused on Marty. “I told you someone else would figure it out.”

Marty looked absolutely appalled and offended by that response, his mouth wide open in surprise. “Wha- Linda!”

“What?” Linda asked irritably. “I told you! Just tell him already! You told me!”

“That’s- that’s different!” Marty hissed back.

Dave raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what, exactly?”

Marty shot him a glare, which, as always, fell flat, because his glares were anything but intimidating. “Nothing,” he insisted. “Can I eat my breakfast in peace?”

“Not now that you’ve confirmed that you have been hiding something!” Dave retorted. “What is it, how bad could it possibly be?” He thought about it for a moment. He really couldn’t think of anything that Marty would actually be willing to do and Linda would be willing to cover for that was absolutely awful and unforgivable. Marty did not get into much trouble outside of some relatively minor behavior or attendance issues at school, and Linda was not typically one to put her ass on the line just to cover for her brothers’ stupid mistakes.

“It’s nothing bad, it’s just-” Marty cut himself off and hesitated. “It’s nothing, really.”

Dave shared an unimpressed look with Linda, who just sighed, reached across the table, and snatched the paper out of Marty’s hands. Marty let out an indignant squawk and glared at both of his siblings, which- again- did absolutely nothing. Linda raised an expectant eyebrow, and Dave tapped his foot loudly on the floor.

“Man, you two are so much more annoying than I remember,” Marty muttered. “I miss when you didn’t give a shit.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Dave demanded. No, really, what did that mean? “Did you hit your head and get amnesia?” At this point, it was the only thing that made sense.

Marty sighed, sounding every bit the 17-year-old little brother he was. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. Jesus.” He crossed his arms and looked Dave in the eyes. “But you have to promise that you won’t tell anyone else, especially Mom or Dad. And promise that you’ll hear me out before calling me some kinda idiot.”

Dave glanced at Linda, who shrugged. “Just promise,” She said.

“I-” Dave shook his head. “Fine. I promise. Now, what is it?”

Marty sat up straight, took a deep breath, and finally said, “I’m a time traveller.”

Dave stared at him. That……. was absurd. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” He asked.

“For the love of- that’s almost exactly how Linda reacted!” Marty exclaimed. “Is it really that unbelievable!”

“Time travel is impossible, Marty,” Dave replied steadily. Really, was he feeling alright? “Look, did you get a concussion doing something you don’t want Mom and Dad to know about? ‘Cause I won’t tell, if it wasn’t that bad, but-”

“Oh my God-” Marty stood up and grabbed Dave by the shoulders. “Look at me, Dave. Do I look like I’m lying? Or mistaken, or- or concussed?”

Well… he had to be honest, Marty really did not look like he was lying, mistaken, or concussed. That somehow bothered Dave even more than his idea that Marty managed to do something so bad that he got a serious head injury, possibly amnesia, and still wasn’t willing to tell their parents. “Er- no, but, do y-”

“Before you ask, yes, I have proof,” Marty interrupted, his grip on Dave’s shoulders tightening. “I have a picture of Doc and me in 1885, a hoverboard from 2015, and stories from 1955, an alternate 1985, 2015, and 1885 that I would not be able to come up with by myself.”

“Sure, but-”

“And I convinced Linda!” Marty said, interrupting him yet again. “She can back me up, and so can Doc, and- and Jennifer!”

“You make it sound like you tricked me,” Linda remarked.

Dave tried to back up a step, but Marty’s grip was tight, Jesus, what the hell was with him? “Marty-”

“I’m not crazy,” Marty said, voice filled with conviction and what Dave would almost call fear. Almost. “Just listen-”

“Marty!” Dave snapped, and Marty shut up. “I’m not calling you crazy! Just- Jesus- let go of my shoulders, you’re cutting off my circulation!”

Marty blinked in surprise. “Oh.” He stared at Dave for a minute, then suddenly let go of his shoulders and stepped back. “Uh- sorry.” He chuckled nervously. “So, does that-”

Dave held up a hand, and Marty shut up again. “Give me a minute- damn.” He rolled his shoulders and turned to Marty, raising an eyebrow. “Alright, show me this… proof.”

Before anyone could say another word, Marty was off, jumping over a chair and dashing down the hall.

Dave watched him go, stared down the hall for a moment, then turned to Linda before Marty could make it back. He hesitated, then leaned forward and murmured, “Is he-”

“He’s telling the truth,” Linda replied before he could finish. Dave didn’t know whether he expected that or not. “Somehow, someway, Emmett Brown managed to make a time machine, and he got Marty caught up in some crazy adventure.” She shook her head and shoved a piece of toast in her mouth before continuing to speak. With her mouth full. God, why was half his family disgusting? “As far as I can tell, two-ish weeks ago, while we all lived just two or so days, he lived… just over two and a half weeks,” Linda continued.

Holy shit. Dave frowned. “Wha-”

Before he could finish, though, Marty finally came back with a framed photo in one hand, and a pink skateboard in the other. He triumphantly put them both on the table, and-

“How is that floating?!” Dave exclaimed, backing away from the table.

“It’s a hoverboard,” Marty said, with an implied, ‘obviously’ after it. He patted the pink ‘hoverboard’ and leaned on it with an elbow, and it stayed up in the air. “Go on, look at the picture!”

Dave hesitantly picked up the picture. Sure enough, it was a monochrome photo of Marty and Doctor Emmett Brown standing in front of what looked to be the clock at the top of the courthouse, but from before it was at the top of the courthouse. They were both wearing old-timey clothes, and it looked just how Dave would expect any other picture taken in the late 19th century would look like.

He set it back down on the table slowly and said, “Holy… shit.”

“What did I tell you?” Marty grinned, a little too smugly. “Heavy, right?”

“You… have got to be joking,” Dave said quietly, but one look at either of his siblings told him otherwise. “This- this can’t be true, time travel is-”

“Impossible?” Marty asked. He sat back down in his chair and took another bite of his cereal. “You’d think,” he said, mouth full. He grimaced. “Ugh, this is soggy now.”

“You’ll have to accept it,” Linda said. “Time travel’s possible, and your very own little brother was the first one to do it.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “And you wouldn’t believe what he did-”

“Linda,” Marty hissed, cutting her off. “First off, I wasn’t the first one, Doc’s dog was, and I told you, I didn’t have another choice-”

Linda laughed before he could finish. “I know, I know, Jesus! I’m just kidding, chill out!” She took another bite of her toast, while Marty just rolled his eyes and ate another spoonful of cereal.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dave finally spoke as he realized something. “How is this your response for acting oddly for two weeks straight?”

Marty swallowed his cereal and grimaced again. “Well, that’s where it gets… complicated.” As if time travel wasn’t already-?! “See, I’m… kind of not the right Marty in this timeline?”

What.

Marty didn’t even give him a chance to ask the obvious question- or any of the many obvious questions- and just kept talking. “See, Doc and I, we time travelled maybe a bit more than we wanted to, and when we came back to 1985, it turned out we had completely changed the timeline, so I ended up in a completely different life than I was used to.” He shrugged. “It is a lot nicer in a lot of ways, so I can’t complain… too much…”

What.

This time, Linda didn’t give him a chance to ask anything, and she started talking. “Basically, he’s been acting all weird ‘cause he’s been, like, randomly transplanted into a different Marty’s life. The Marty we knew from two weeks ago.”

Dave really was not prepared for this shit on this fine, supposedly relaxed Sunday morning. For once in his life, he found himself saying that it really was too early for this. “So- how is it different??”

Marty leaned on the table with his elbow, resting his head on his fist, and sighed. Based on that response, it was hard to explain. Great. “Well, um, in the timeline I’m from, you work at Burger King, for one.”

“Burger King?!” He exclaimed, appalled. “Hold on just a minute-”

“Yeah, yeah, you worked at Burger King, Linda didn’t have a life at all, Dad was an absolute loser who let Biff do anything he wanted- uh, Biff was his boss- and Mom was, uh, kind of an alcoholic, and she didn't like any of us dating or anything…” Marty focused his gaze on his gross, soggy cereal. “And I don’t know a whole lot about this timeline’s Marty from before, but he’s not…. that different from me. I guess.” He snorted. “I definitely didn’t have my own damn truck, though!”

Dave could not deal with this anymore. He pulled out the chair he had a hand on and sat down. For a fleeting moment of thought about the innocent, beautiful falsehood he lived about five minutes ago, he remembered the milk he left sitting on the counter, but he was not about to stop this conversation just to go put it away. He leaned forward on the table and laced his fingers together in front of him. “Alright. Okay. So… just to get this straight. You’re the world’s first time traveller-”

“After Einie,” Marty interjected.

“I- yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dave shook his head. “You’re the world’s first human time traveller, and in your first time travelling experience, you managed to fuck up the timeline so bad that your entire family changed into essentially different people.”

Marty frowned. “You’re- well, you’re different people, but you’re still the same… people.” He winced, and glanced away awkwardly. “Er-”

Dave waved a hand in the air. “No, it’s fine, I get it,” he said, if only so Marty didn’t continue and make him think about the uncomfortable idea for even longer.

Instead of shutting his mouth, though, Marty suddenly stood up again, running a hand through his hair. “But you don’t get it,” he said, clearly agitated. “I mean, this is- really heavy! You’re right, this is crazy, and-” He cut himself off and made an abstract sound of what Dave assumed was annoyance before continuing. “What I’m saying is that you are the same people. It’s not like I used to have a brother named- fucking- I don’t know, Michael, and now I have one named Dave. You’re the same. You’re just, so successful now. It’s- it’s weird.”

Dave was at a loss for words, and when he looked at Linda, hoping she would have something to say, he saw that she was also taken aback by their little brother’s words. Was that how he saw them? The wrong replacements for his siblings? But- but their lives were just as real, right? And so was the Marty they knew. Were they all wrong replacements in their own right? Ugh, this philosophical shit was the reason he went the business route instead of literature or something, why did he have to be thinking about it now?

Marty just kept frowning and staring at the wall, one hand still in his hair, the other on his hip. “And it’s not even just you guys that changed,” he finally said. “So many things feel so wrong.” He chuckled and crossed his arms, looking back at Dave and Linda. “You know Eastwood Ravine? Just a bit southwest of here?”

“Um… yeah?” Dave replied hesitantly. “What about it?”

“Well, in the timeline I’m from, it was called Clayton Ravine, after a teacher who fell in there and died in the 1800’s,” Marty said, sounding slightly conspiratorial. “Everyone at school knew it, because everyone had a teacher who they wanted to fall in. What’s the story here?”

“Some wanderer named Eastwood came to Hill Valley in the late 1800’s,” Linda said slowly. “He stayed for a week or something, then hijacked a train coming through and drove it right into the ravine for no reason. They named it after him ‘cause of some other guy who wanted to remember his friend, I think.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “How did that change…?”

Marty grinned, his stressed demeanor from not even two minutes ago pretty much disappearing altogether. “That was me. That ravine, and that bridge? Named after me!”

Linda’s jaw dropped. “You’re joking! So you went as-” A teasing grin emerged on her own face. “No way. You loser- you went by Clint Eastwood, didn’t you?! Ha! That’s amazing!”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Marty retorted. “My own great-great-grandfather was asking, I couldn’t just tell him I had the same name as his dead brother!”

“So, why didn’t that teacher fall in?” Linda asked, leaning on the table with her elbow as if it was some hot gossip she was getting in on, and not the story of how her little brother had permanently altered the flow of time and didn’t even seem to care. “Or did you just fall in first?”

“Well-” Marty stopped himself and frowned at her. “I didn’t actually fall in, and- and the train didn’t fall in either, I- we purposefully drove it into the ravine!” He shook his head. “Anyway, she didn’t fall in, because Doc saved her just before she fell in, and they instead fell for each other.”

Linda gasped overdramatically. “No.”

Marty’s grin came back. “Yeah! Later, they even had a romantic last-second getaway right before the train went crashing into the ravine, and then they got married and had kids. And to think that he said before that he was a man of science, or whatever, and he would not let something like falling in love distract him from his work.” He snorted. “Right.”

Linda opened her mouth to say something back, but before she could, Dave interrupted. “Hold on, hold on,” he said, still trying to keep up. They were going way too fast, just like they had been this whole conversation. “Back it up. How did you even get to 18-whatever in the first place? What the hell did you do when you time travelled the first time?”

Incredibly worryingly, Marty didn’t answer right away, and instead shared a glance with Linda. They both looked lost for what to say. “Uhhh,” Marty got out instead of anything intelligible, “that’s, um, complicated. Requires a lotta background inf-”

“He went to 1955 and went to that school dance with Mom instead of her going with Dad,” Linda said easily, cutting him off.

“What?!” Dave exclaimed, standing up in surprise. “What the- how did you- why did- what- what?!”

Marty shot a glare at Linda, then turned to Dave and held up his hands placatingly. “Waitaminute, listen, Dave! I didn’t mean to, and I fixed it in the end! She just-” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. Look, I fixed that, and it has nothing to do with going to 1885. S-sort of.” He hesitated. “I- well. I ended up in 1885 because of what happened in 2015, but I guess if I hadn’t done all that in 1955 I wouldn’t’ve…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “Oh, it doesn’t matter! I fixed it in the end, right? It’s fine!”

Dave was shocked, frankly, that Marty could be so- so calm about this. Sure, it had been a couple weeks, he was probably used to it all and over it by now, but that didn’t mean everyone else was! “Actually, I don’t think it’s fine,” he retorted, stepping away from the table and crossing his arms. “You cannot be so calm about this whole ordeal! You- you mess up the flow of time completely, you apparently fundamentally, irreparably change everyone you know, you go on a date with your- no- our mother, you saw the past, the future- did you see your future?” He held a hand up to his forehead. “I just don’t understand how you can act like it doesn’t even matter!”

“Waitaminute, waitaminute, that’s not what I meant!” Marty exclaimed. “I- I meant, like-”

“I know what you meant!” Dave cut him off. “I know what you meant, but your entire attitude about this is- it’s unnerving!” He turned to Linda and gestured to her. “You have to understand what I mean, right, Linda?”

Linda looked caught off-guard, and she stammered, “Uh, um. Well. I guess it is a little weird, but- it has already been two weeks or so-”

“But you do think this is way too serious of a thing to be so casually talking about, right?” Dave pressed.

Linda began to look uncomfortable, and she raised a cautious eyebrow at Dave. “I- I guess-”

“And this- this is unnatural, almost,” Dave continued. “I mean, if this isn’t even the Marty we know-”

He cut himself off as he and Linda turned in unison to look at Marty, whose expression had become increasingly offended at every sentence Dave said, and now looked almost horrified. Dave was a little surprised at himself; he hadn’t really meant for what he was trying to say to come out like that. He wasn’t sure he knew what he was trying to say in the first place.

“You-” Marty’s eyes flitted between Dave and Linda. His voice cracked as he stammered out, “You think I’m- I’m not-”

Dave didn’t let him finish. He felt sick at the idea of what Marty was about to say. “It’s just- you’re not taking this whole thing seriously at all! It’s like you don’t even care you made a mess you barely fixed, like you-” He shook his head. “-you don’t even care that you’re- apparently- from an alternate universe! Like you don’t even care you’re not who you say you are!”

“I do care!” Marty snapped, with more frustration in his voice than Dave had ever heard from Marty since he was a little kid. Dave went silent, taken aback by Marty’s sudden anger as he continued. “I- I do care. I care so much, and this whole timeline hasn’t felt right since the moment I got here- that’s the whole reason we started this conversation!” He pointed at Dave with a shaking hand. “Believe me, I care that I’m not the Marty you knew, and that you’re not the Dave and Linda I knew, and that somehow, I’m not even the Marty I knew a month ago. I’m just trying to stay at least a little sane here, and addressing the idea that I basically replaced my entire family with “better” versions of themselves is just a little stressful, who would’ve thought?”

He put one hand in the pocket of his jeans and the other on the back of his neck as he looked away from his siblings. “I mean, shit, did you think I haven’t noticed all the looks I keep getting? From you, from Mom and Dad, from- from everyone except Doc? I- I don’t even have the same middle name. Nothing is like how I knew it. And you- you’re all so-” He struggled with his words for a moment, gesturing vaguely with his hand before he finally found them. “So- so perfect. In a way I never really… knew. And I-” He laughed softly, his angry tone dissipating as he deflated, his hand slowly going up to run through his hair. “I guess I… probably should be more grateful, or something, for this “better” version of life, but it feels all- all wrong sometimes. It’s….” He trailed off completely, and his hand dropped from his head to fall by his side.

“...Heavy?” Linda suggested quietly to finish his sentence.

“Heavy,” Marty absently repeated, staring at the floor.

Dave just blinked, unable to come up with anything to respond to that. He slowly took a couple steps back closer to the table. His mind was already going a mile a minute, and it felt like Marty’s outburst made it completely shut down and restart at an even more frantic pace. He couldn’t think of a single word or even vague idea to use to convey his thoughts, except a pathetic, stammered out, “I- I’m sorry.” He finally gave up trying to plan something out in his head, and just started talking. “I didn’t realize-” But wasn’t that a lie? He realized that this obviously affected Marty more than he was letting on. Part of that was the whole reason he started this conversation. He just…. what?

“No, no, it’s- it’s fine,” Marty said when Dave didn’t continue. “I get it, you know, it’s a lot!” He shrugged, but he still had that look on his face and that sense about him as though he were overwhelmed. Well, at least he seemed to share plenty of the same mannerisms as the Marty he… replaced. Alright. They needed to talk about that.

“Is-” Dave stopped himself after a single word and sighed. How to even bring it up in the first place? Let alone continue to talk about it? This… sucked. “Are you-” God, he hated this. “Do you-” He was also… just bad at this talking thing, huh? “What I mean-”

Linda punched him in the shoulder. “Either figure out what you’re trying to say, or shut up,” she said, standing up with her now empty plate in hand. She walked into the kitchen and put her plate in the sink, then went over to the fridge and opened it.

“Can you grab a Pepsi for me?” Marty called to her. He paused for a moment, then added, “Oh, and a pack of pretzels?”

She grunted in response, and came back into the room a moment later with a Pepsi and a small bag of pretzels in one hand and some fruit-flavored soda in the other. She tossed the Pepsi and pretzels to Marty, who almost missed them entirely and fumbled with them until he wasn’t about to drop them. Without even glancing at Marty to make sure he caught the items, she then opened her own and drank what looked to be nearly half the can in one sip. She lowered the can, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then pointed at Marty with the hand still holding the can. “Y’know, that’s another thing that changed. The Marty we knew did not drink Pepsi as much as you.”

“Oh. Huh.” Marty hummed, opening his own can and setting the pretzels on the table. Suddenly, a stupid little smile appeared on his face as he said, “Well, I guess that means more than just Mom’s taste in drinks changed, huh?”

Linda gave him a look, that look she gave when one of them had stolen something from her or asked too many questions about some boy, that look that meant to cut it out. Now. “Not. Funny.”

“Sorry,” Marty mumbled, and took a sip from his own drink.

“Jesus Christ,” Dave muttered. “This is a mess. I just wanted to relax today.”

“Sorry,” Marty repeated, sitting back down and putting his Pepsi on the table next to his empty cereal bowl. He reached for the pretzels and opened the bag, shaking a few out into his hand.

Dave shook his head. “No, it’s- well, I guess it is your fault.”

Linda reached over and slapped his arm. “Stop being an asshole.”

“I’m not being an asshole!” Dave exclaimed defensively. “I’m just- I’m being realistic!”

“You’re being an asshole to avoid asking a hard question,” Linda retorted. She sat down again, too, crossing one leg over the other. “Go on. Ask him something weird. It’s like enrichment for him.”

“He is right here,” Marty grumbled. They both ignored him.

Dave crossed his arms. “Alright, fine. I guess I have been wondering… what’s 2015 like?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Marty replied instantly. He gestured with a pretzel in one hand as he spoke. “It’s really crazy, actually. Somehow exactly what you’d expect the 21st century to be like, and exactly what you’d never expect the 21st century to be like. Flying cars, holograms, and-” He sat up and smiled. “Actually, guess what? The whole reason we went to 2015 was because of my kids, so I got to see my kids. Er, well, one of them. The other one only Jennifer saw, but I got a description later.”

Dave grimaced. “Oh my God, there’s more of you in the future?”

“That’s what I said!” Linda exclaimed, similarly appalled like Dave. Imagining your little baby brother with two kids was awful, frankly.

“And they look exactly like me,” Marty continued. “Even their names. Marlene and Marty, Jr.”

“Junior- You have got to be kidding me,” Dave said miserably. “I’m almost scared to ask about my future self.”

“Oh, I have no idea.” Marty shrugged. He shoved the pretzel he had in his hand in his mouth and continued to speak. “I never saw you or Linda, or heard anything about you guys. Jen saw Mom and Dad, though.” He tilted his head. “And, I mean, I did sort of... completely change my future, anyways. So who knows how any of us could actually turn out?”

God, he couldn’t keep up with all this. Maybe Marty was just really bad at explaining stories. “How did you-”

Marty cut him off before he could finish his question. “I dunno, I guess I got some character development, and now my future self doesn’t live as miserable a life, and doesn’t get fired in 2015.” He took another sip of Pepsi. “Got any harder questions?”

“I can think of a few,” Dave muttered.

“Go on, then.”

Dave weighed the possible pros and cons of asking the question he was thinking of. All the possible outcomes, the ways this could go, how bad of a mistake it could be. He couldn’t really think of a good way for it to go, but, well, Marty asked for it. And so, before he could change his mind and talk himself out of it, he asked, “What happened to the original Marty from this timeline?”

Linda gave him a look- not as harsh as the one she gave Marty, but still- and quickly glanced at Marty. Marty looked a little caught of guard, but not really surprised by the question. He looked uncomfortable, but he still wiped his mouth off and replied. “You want my honest answer?”

“Of course,” Dave responded steadily.

“I’ve got no idea,” Marty said simply.

Dave’s stomach dropped. That was somehow worse than any other answer he could have expected.

“I guess I just… replaced him,” Marty continued, “but I don’t really know how it works. I mean, I didn’t replace my other 1955 self, I didn’t replace my 2015 self, and I have no idea if I replaced myself from the other alternate 1985, and it’s not like I have anything else to go off of.” He shrugged. “Either I replaced him completely, or- I don’t know, hell- he could be living in my 1985 right now. He still time travelled, I’m pretty sure. I assume that was the Marty I saw when I got to this timeline the first time.” He took another sip of Pepsi and looked away. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s in 1885, getting shot at or something right now. Maybe he made his own alternate 1985 like I did. Maybe he…” He trailed off, turned away gaze morphing into a more troubled one, before he finally said, with shaky confidence, “I don't know. He’s not me.”

There was a long moment of silence, where the three of them averted their gazes from each other and thought about what Marty just said.

Dave knew he had only started this conversation because he had noticed that Marty wasn’t the same, but really hearing that Marty wasn’t the same felt… different. More final, and more wrong. So much more wrong. For some reason, even though he was sitting right there, not even five feet away, it felt like Marty was dead, in a sense. Dave wondered if Linda felt the same. He… he wondered if Marty felt the same.

Finally, Marty asked, in a quiet voice, “How different am I from him?” He still didn’t look at Dave or Linda’s face, his eyes firmly fixed on the table. “I- I mean, you could tell, obviously, but how….” He trailed off and didn’t finish his sentence.

“Not that different,” Linda replied slowly. “You seem mostly the same. If you weren’t so terrible at hiding secrets and telling lies, then we might… not… have noticed.” As she spoke, her expression turned to one of incredible discomfort. Dave couldn’t say that he particularly enjoyed the idea of not being able to tell when his little brother got replaced by an alternate version of himself.

“Not that similar,” Dave said forcefully, if only to make himself feel better. “You- you’re a lot less annoying, in a way. Less whiny, I think.”

Marty laughed. “Really? I don’t think the old Dave would agree with that.”

Dave raised an eyebrow. Despite how uncomfortable this whole thing was, he had to admit, he was kind of curious about Marty’s ‘old timeline’. “Really?”

“Yeah, he agreed with Dad’s whole, ‘don’t try that hard to achieve anything in life’ mantra,” Marty muttered. He gently tapped the soda can against the table as he spoke. “They both thought my stuff with the band was so risky for no reason. I got the impression you- well, um, Dave- thought I was asking way too much out of life, y’know? Like I should stop going out of my comfort zone and enjoy what I had without trying for more.”

“Dad and Dave didn’t want you going out of your comfort zone?” Linda asked, flabbergasted. “God, if they ever shut up about achieving your dreams and all that, maybe I’d get a moment of rest.”

“Shut up, it’s good advice!” Dave retorted. “Dad got that from that kid he met when he was in high school, who said that, uh, what was it?” He tilted his head as he tried to recall the exact words. “You can accomplish anything, if you put your mind to it? Something like that.”

Marty stared at him, his eyes comically wide, his mouth slightly open.

Dave glanced at him, slightly unnerved. “What?” Damn, the advice wasn’t that life-changing, was it?

“That-” Marty laughed and shook his head. “I said that. That kid was me. The guy Mom and Dad talk about, who set them up, gave them some life advice, and disappeared forever? That was me. I kind of already told you that.”

“Wha-” Jesus Christ, could he have one second without another plot twist? Dave stared at Marty. “You- you were Calvin Klein?!”

“That’s right,” Marty replied, looking pretty happy with himself. “That’s kind of the whole reason this timeline is so different.” He took a sip of his Pepsi before continuing. “That, and Dad punching Biff.” He put the Pepsi back down on the table with a clack and looked to the side. “Man, was that satisfying.”

Linda snapped her fingers in sudden realization, speaking before Dave could ask anything else. “And there’s another thing that’s different- you really hate Biff. Like, really hate him. He’s not even that bad!”

Marty’s expression soured considerably. “If you knew him in any other timeline he’s in, you’d get it. This is the only version of him or any of his relatives I’ve met who isn’t constantly trying to beat me up.” He reached over and picked up his bag of pretzels again. He grabbed a couple more out of the bag and popped them in his mouth. “Hey, you wanna know one different thing I’ve noticed between me and this timeline’s Marty?”

“What’s that?” Linda asked, stealing a couple pretzels.

“I don’t think he could pirate a movie to save his life,” Marty said, throwing any expectation Dave had had for what he was going to say out the window entirely. “Just kind of the impression I get from my- uh, his- uhh.” He paused awkwardly and uncomfortably for a moment to think. “My room. And the way you all are.”

Linda raised an eyebrow. “Now what is that supposed to mean?”

Marty shrugged. Unhelpfully.

“You pira- never mind.” Sighing, Dave pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright,” he said. “Alright. I think we need to back up again. How exactly did you create an alternate timeline in which you replaced yourself? You did not explain that.”

Once again, Marty and Linda slowly shared that awful, foreboding look where Dave knew they knew something that he was now not sure if he wanted to know. Marty had that special Marty Look on his face where he looked like he was either about to piss himself or scream and cry, and Linda matched it with a special Linda Look that pretty much equated to a shit-eating grin.

“Jesus. What.” Dave demanded, glancing between his two terrible younger siblings. “What.”

“Oh, nothing important,” Linda sang, lightly tapping her can against the table rhythmically. “I'm sure Marty can easily explain it to you in a way that doesn't sound disgusting and perverted.”

“Shut up!” Marty hissed. “You already mentioned it anyway!”

Well, this was not getting any better. Dave crossed his arms in what he hoped looked at least somewhat commanding and tapped his foot expectantly. Based on Linda's unimpressed look and Marty's complete ignorance to it, he had not succeeded.

“Okay, okayokay!” Marty finally sighed and learned forward. “Just… listen, will you? It's really not as bad as it sounds.”

“That is so much less comforting than you realize,” Dave informed him.

Marty shook his head in annoyance. “That wasn't supposed to be comforting. Anyway.” He took a deep breath, only serving to increase the suspense and tension, then said, “You- uh, you know how Mom and Dad first got together at that high school dance, the Enchantment Under the Sea dance?”

Dave nodded his head slowly. “Of course. They love talking about it.”

Concerningly, Marty's response to that was to laugh nervously and rub the back of his head. “Yeah, well, uh, in the origi- um. In my original timeline, they didn't meet like that. Dad got hit by Mom's dad's car and she met him like that and they started dating. But I went back to 1955 and kindaaa fucked it up a little bit.” His leg started bouncing as he spoke. “I pushed Dad out of the way last second and got hit instead and passed out a-”

“Damn, are you okay?” Dave instantly asked, a bit of his extremely successful commanding aura melting away uncontrollably.

“I-” Marty gave him an odd look. “Yeah, why d'you ask?”

“…because you got hit by a car…?” Dave said slowly, somehow disliking the conversation even more as Marty continued to speak. “Why wouldn't I be concerned…?”

Marty tilted his head with a weird little frown on his face. “I dunno, I mean- it's nothing that bad. Just a li'l head injury or something.”

Dave turned his increasingly distressed look to Linda, who barely looked surprised. This was not helping. He pinched the bridge of his nose, again, and turned back to his brother. “Marty. Listen. Getting hit by a car and hitting your head so bad you pass out is absolutely something to be concerned about. I'm scared to ask what other injuries you got from all this shit.”

Once again, concerningly, Marty's response to that was to chuckle and avoid eye contact. “Well, um. Maybe a few other knocks on the head here and there… a kick to the ribs or two… and getting dragged around town and then almost getting hanged wasn't the nicest on my neck…”

“What?!” Linda and Dave shouted in tandem. Dave glanced at Linda incredulously, shocked she hadn't heard of this if she knew most of this already, then refocused on Marty because what.

“Ex-fucking-scuse you??” Linda demanded, slamming the table with a hand and an empty soda can. “How did you not tell me that!! How was I not aware of that!!!”

Marty leaned back in his seat, eyes wide and mouth open as if shocked to see that his siblings were this surprised at that admittance. “Uh… huh?”

Dave covered his face with his hands. Jesus. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I never am,” Marty said, sounding somewhat miserable, but mostly sheepish. “Um, sorry?”

A sigh emanated from both of his older siblings in-sync as Linda shook her head and Dave slowly lowered his hands from his face. “So why did you not tell anyone?” At Marty's blank stare, he prompted again, “That you were hurt?”

Marty's face suddenly gained an odd expression that Dave could only describe as stupefied at someone else's stupidity. “I'm not hurt,” he said, as if it were obvious, “and I never woulda thought you all would get so upset about it.” He scratched the back of his neck and slouched forward a bit. “I mean, Jesus. You act like I set something on fire.”

“Did you?” Linda questioned intensely.

Marty thought for a moment. “Nnnnot… anything that shouldn't have been set on fire.”

For some reason, this placated Linda effectively.

“I'd say at the very least a head injury would count as being hurt,” Dave insisted.

Marty snorted. “That was weeks ago, though.”

“You… no?” Dave narrowed his eyes, confused. He glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall, assumed that Marty's time travelling stint lined up with when he started acting oddly that one morning, did some quick simple subtraction, and only got more confused. “It's only been a week and a half.”

Also confusedly, Marty furrowed his eyebrows. He glanced at the calendar too, and a look of realization and understanding washed over his face. “Ohhh. Okay. Yeah, I spent, uh, maybe two weeks in 1955 and 1855 combined? Plus like a day or so in 2015 and Hell Valley 1985…” He shrugged. “So it's been weeks for me, at least.”

Dave sighed. “You can't keep saying things I don't understand. Hell Valley? Was there another Hill Valley?”

“Uh, sort of,” Marty said, taking another long swig of his Pepsi. “Alternate 1985 I… accidentally let Biff create. Long story short, it was hell.” His voice was unsettlingly serious as he said, “Trust me.” It was gone in an instant as he clacked his can against the table again and continued. “Anyway! I didn't finish explaining how this timeline happened.”

“I- okay, okay, but we're coming back to the head injury shit,” Dave warned him. “And whatever else there was. It might be more serious than you think.”

Again, Marty fixed him with an odd look, like he was seeing Dave for the first time. Uncomfortably, he supposed he was, in a way. “There's another thing,” he muttered. “You two are always weirdly up in my business here. It's… weird.”

Dave wanted to slam his head against the table and tell Marty that being worried about multiple head injuries and everything else he had mentioned was not being up in his business, nor was it weird. He did not do or say that, though, and instead let his ridiculous, ignorant, possibly stupid little brother continue his ridiculous, unbelievable, yet somehow entirely believable story.

“Anyways,” Marty said, switching which of his legs was bouncing under the table, “I got hit by the car, so Mom met me instead, and-” Here, his voice became filled with embarrassment, despite having apparently at least three weeks to get over it, “-and she got the hots for me instead. So I had to set Mom and Dad up, or else they'd never get together, and we- we wouldn't exist anymore.”

“Hold it, hold it.” Dave held a hand up, surprised and nauseous at the same time. “Wouldn't exist? That's how it really works?”

“Oh, yeah.” Marty sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Yeah. I had this picture of the three of us in my wallet, and throughout the week I spent in 1955 we all started disappearing until I almost actually did while playing on stage at that dance.” He took a moment to glance at Dave's face, then grinned. “Heavy, right? You disappeared first, by the way.”

Linda snickered at that. Dave did not appreciate like she apparently did.

As he had been for the past however long this awful conversation had been going on, Dave was disturbed. He put one hand on his hip and the other on the top of his head. “So… you fixed their relationship, made us exist again… but changed enough that when you came back, everything was different?” Marty nodded in a 'pretty much, yeah' motion, so he continued. “How is it different, though?”

Marty gave him an annoyed look. “I thought I already explained that.”

“You listed some things that were different,” Dave replied. “You didn't explain why all that changed.”

“Oh.” He took another long drink of his soda and lightly set it down on the table. That thing had to be empty soon. He looked oddly contemplative, with that characteristic screwed-up confused look on his face. “I guess… I showed Dad how to put his mind to stuff, and stand up for himself and- well, for Mom.”

Dave whistled. “How'd you change his mind so much? If he was that different before, I mean.”

Marty shrugged. “All I did was show him how to not be so much of… a loser. Put himself out there, stand up for himself and his girl, stop being so scared all the time over nothing… I didn't even know he liked writing, or science-fiction, in the old timeline. Then he punched Biff at the dance for Mom, and he got so confident. He's-” He sighed. “He's completely different.”

Dave felt a pang of sympathy. “Bet that sucks.”

Marty just made a noise of vague agreement as he rested his cheek against his hand and leaned his elbow against the table. “I'm not sure how to feel, t'be honest. I mean, it's better, of course- we're more well-off, Mom and Dad are happier together, you two get to live your lives how you want, it's great, but… I can't help feeling like I'm missing something all the time.”

Looking at Marty, who seemed almost lost in thought, Dave shared another glance with Linda, who looked even more lost for what to say than him. After fumbling around in his mind for something comforting to say, Dave finally got out, “Well. We're, uh, always here for you?”

Marty slowly focused back to Dave, smiled, and said, “At least you're not any better at being reassuring.”

“Well, shit, Marty, whaddya want me to say?!” Dave exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air, frustrated. “My little brother tells me he's only kind of my little brother because he's actually a time traveller version of him from another timeline, and then he says all this depressing shit, like I'm supposed to have something to say!”

Marty just laughed, leaning back in his seat. “If it helps at all, this timeline's Marty is also a time traveller- that's prolly why he's not here anymore.” He went to take a swig of his Pepsi, found it was empty, and clacked it back down on the table in mild annoyance. “Meh. 's okay. It's not that bad- at least I'm not disappearing from existence!”

“Ah, yes, what high standards,” Linda muttered sarcastically. Marty just shrugged with a sheepish smile in response.

That sense that had been nagging at the back of Dave's mind this entire conversation- that sense of unease and discomfort- still incessantly picked at him. He had an explanation, and both Linda and Marty seemed fine enough with this whole development, and it didn't seem like much could be done about it, and it wasn't like anything was too different, and if Marty was a better liar and Linda had covered for him then Dave might have even accepted that Marty was completely normal and his mind was playing tricks on him, but- well, maybe that was part of it. How could he seriously not know when his brother wasn't… his brother? Because despite the fact that Marty- well, this Marty- acted and looked similar enough and nothing was too tangibly different, Dave couldn't ignore that this wasn't the Marty he knew. Sure, it was Marty, but… not the one who set the carpet on fire when he was eight, not the one who had cried his eyes out when Uncle Joey got arrested, not the one who had almost lost the rings at Aunt Sally's wedding as a kid, not the one who had scraped his knee skateboarding down the steps of the courthouse, not the one Dave had grown up with for the past seventeen years. Hell, did he even do all of that, in his timeline? What experiences of theirs did and didn't match up?

Looking at Marty, smiling and laughing with his sister about the very reason for Dave's current discomfort, as if nothing was different, a sick sort of feeling hit Dave's stomach. This was wrong. His brother was gone, yet he was sitting right here, laughing and chatting as usual, and yet who knew how many things they were used to laughing about that just… never happened to him? What could Dave do? What should he do? Should he do… anything?

He took a deep breath and tried to assess it objectively. There wasn't anything he could do about the time travel thing, there wasn't anything he could do to bring the old Marty back, and mulling over it would only make himself and his siblings feel worse. Already, he could tell that talking about all this, while definitely necessary, did at least partly serve to make all of them uncomfortable, especially Marty. The Marty that Dave knew was not one to be so uncertain, so timid- and it wasn't like this Marty was particularly timid either, but in comparison to who Dave knew… the difference in his responses, once he looked for it, was stark. And whether this was 'his' Marty or not, he was still his brother, and Dave wasn't about to make him feel worse than he already did for no good reason.

And so, after a few moments of contemplation, he let out a sigh, forced himself to relax, and sat down. “Alright,” he said, cutting off Marty in the middle of a very confusing-sounding sentence as he spoke to Linda, “Tell me about your multiple head injuries. You're not getting out of this.”

Marty groaned in annoyance and leaned back in his chair, Linda pointed and laughed at him, and Dave smiled.