Archive of Our Own ^beta

Used to feel great, used to feel fine,
You get your pictures taken, they want your pictures signed.

Belting out your songs and baring your souls
Don't know you're walking barefoot over hot coals

'Til you wake up one day with tears in your eyes
In a world of fame and fortune and truth and lies.

Excerpt from "Fame and Fortune (and Truth and Lies)", from the Original Soundtrack to Dark Smoky Places

(Music and lyrics by Marty McFly) 

Sunday, September 3rd, 2017

11:50 A.M.

Hill Valley, California

“Engaged?”

Marty McFly stared at his nineteen-year-old son – his namesake – as he repeated the only word that he had grasped from the earlier announcement.

The junior Marty stared back. “Yes, Dad. We’re engaged.” He purposefully and obviously took the hand of the young woman standing next to him.

Martin McFly, Jr. wasn’t technically a junior, as he and his father had different middle names (the older Marty’s middle name was Seamus, while the younger Marty’s middle name was William). But for the sake of everyone’s sanity, the younger Marty was regularly referred to as Junior, at home as well as in public. When Martin William had been a small child he’d been called “Little Marty,” but by the time he’d started school, that nickname had gradually faded; now the only person who occasionally called him that was his Grandma Lorraine.

Jennifer hurried past Marty; he actually felt a breeze as his wife rushed forward. “Congratulations!” she cried, embracing first her son, then his girlfriend (fiancée) Andie, and then her son again. A moment later Jennifer was “oohing” and “aahing” at the sparkling ring on Andie’s left hand, and the two Martys were again staring at each other.

“Are you going to congratulate me, Dad?” Junior asked quietly.

“I – congra – uh – “ Marty jerked a hand back to rub at his neck and pull at his hair, a nervous gesture he’d never outgrown, even now that his hair was thinner and streaked with grey. Junior knew the anxious body language well (having also seen the same motion employed at times by his Grandpa George), and his face fell. He'd known his dad wouldn’t be as joyful about the announcement as his mother, but he'd hoped the guy would at least say Congratulations.

“Mr. McFly?” Andie said, even softer than Junior’s quiet tone. “I love your son. I do.” Her face flushed as she realized the phrase she'd just spoken. “I can’t think of anything I’d want more than to be his wife, and to be a part of your family.”

Marty smiled at Andie through gritted teeth. “I believe you, Andie. And Mrs.– Jennifer and I like you a lot, and we think you’re good for Junior. Really. But – but – “ He ran the next four words together in one exclamation. “But-your’re-too-young!”

“Marty. . .“ Jennifer said warningly, placing a hand on her husband’s arm. He shook it off, rounding on her. “Jenn, just –  Be serious! He’s just a kid!”

“I'm not a 'kid,' I'm nineteen!” Junior retorted. "Actually, I'm closer to nineteen and a half!"

Junior's nineteenth birthday had been in March. Marty and Jennifer’s second child had come within two minutes of being born on April 1st of 1998 (and on George McFly's 60th birthday), but had instead arrived at 11:58 P.M. on March 31st - which had coincidentally been the 40th anniversary of Chuck Berry's release of "Johnny B. Goode." 

In fact, both of Marty’s children had been born on momentous dates. Marlene, their oldest, had arrived in 1996 on November 12th, marking the 41st anniversary of the famous Hill Valley lightning storm. Of course, both dates were also significant for other reasons, but as those reasons were connected to time travel, the only one who really appreciated the odd coincidences of Marty's childrens' birthdates was a certain scientist and inventor.

“'And a half'," Marty scoffed, repeating Junior's phrase. "Your mother and I were both out of college when we got married - and we were in our late twenties before you kids were born!”

“Who said anything about having kids?” Junior shot back. “We’re just engaged! It’s not like we’re married yet.” The young brown-haired man smiled lovingly at his fiancée. “But we are thinking of picking a date in early December.”  

“December?!” Marty repeated, his voice cracking. “Isn’t that a little fast?” He peered hard at Andie. “There’s not some reason you’re rushing this, are you?”

This time Jennifer smacked her husband on the arm. “Marty! That’s out of line!”

“Why?” he asked, glaring at his wife. “This is our son. What, we’re not allowed to ask him if his girlfriend’s in trouble, and that’s why they want - need - to get married?”

“Jesus Christ, Dad!” Junior swore, prompting his mother to now smack him on the arm. “Watch your language, young man!”

Junior rubbed his arm, lowering his eyes. “Sorry, Mom,” he muttered. But then he lifted his gaze, and his deep brown eyes blazed. “I don’t remember you guys throwing a hissy fit when Marlie got engaged!”

“Well. . . “ Jennifer hedged, remembering a very similar “you’re too young” discussion when Marlene had shared the news of her engagement to her now-husband. Junior hadn’t been present at that conversation, most likely by Marlene’s design.

Before Jennifer could point this out to Junior and show that her husband was not playing favorites, Marty negated that idea by declaring, “Your sister’s two years older than you!”

“Two years? It's not even a year and a half!" Junior said. "She's sixteen months older than me, Dad! Jes– jeez, you’d think with your background, you’d pay a little more attention to dates!”

Marty’s mouth formed a tight line. “Martin William McFly, you’re treading on thin ice,” he said darkly.

Andie pulled back on Junior’s arm. “Hon, why don’t we just take a step back. Maybe go for a walk or something, so your dad can calm down.”

“Calm down?” Marty echoed. “You think I," he pointed at himself, "need to calm down?” He then flung his hand out at the young couple. “You think I shouldn’t be worried that you two are making a huge mistake?” He again looked intently at Andie. “What about your parents? What do they think about all of this nonsense?” He took a step closer to the young woman, and Andie retreated, holding tightly to Junior’s arm.

“Marty!” Jennifer said sharply. “Stop it! Why are you being this way?”

Marty turned to his wife, inhaled, and then turned back to Junior and Andie. Junior had his fiancée in an embrace, and there were obvious tears in Andie’s eyes.

Oh, shit. Marty closed his eyes briefly. He sighed, shook his head, and then turned on his heel.

“I’m going for a drive.”

In a world of hover-cars, the ones that actually drove on only their wheels were considered a novelty. Most were old clunkers that were in such a state of disrepair that a hover-conversion would be pointless. But there were still the odd few road vehicles that were driven by purists, well-maintained cars from the era before flying automobiles. Marty McFly drove one of these – a 1996 Mazda RX-7. The Mazda, older now than both of his children, had been Marty’s first baby. (He’d thought he’d been attached to his 4x4 pickup, but he’d traded it in without batting an eye when he’d purchased his now beloved RX-7. The Toyota had been ten years old, after all.)

Marty had purchased the sports car after a professional windfall. The Pinheads had broken up, reformed with new members, and broken up again during Marty’s college years, finally disbanding for good in 1990. Still a few of their better-known songs – mostly the ones written by Marty – had been local favorites, and recordings of those songs had existed in one form or another. In 1992, a writer/producer of an indie film about “a bar band who makes it big” had come across some of these random Pinheads recordings. The man had tracked down and contacted Marty in late ’92, and had professed interest in Marty’s song “Comin’ Back to Stay This Time.” After checking with the rest of the now-defunct Pinheads, Marty had gotten permission for the song to be used in the movie (as Marty had written the music and lyrics, his former bandmates hadn’t had much reason to protest his request).

Marty’s involvement in the film’s music hadn’t ended with the one song. After being given a copy of the script, Marty had used it as inspiration to pen a second song, called “Fame and Fortune (and Truth and Lies).” He’d also recorded an acoustic version of “Comin’ Back to Stay This Time,” and had contributed to the film’s instrumental score.

In the movie, both of Marty’s songs were performed by the film’s fictional band, a group of musically-inclined young actors (although his acoustic rendition of “Comin’ Back to Stay” was played in the background of a final scene). The movie’s plot had hardly been anything new, but the film had been a gritty, realistic view of the bar band scene in San Francisco, and it had been praised for its authenticity. It also hadn’t hurt that an A-list star, just coming off of a well-publicized rehab stint, had appeared in the movie as a corrupt manager unwisely hired by the newly successful band. The disgraced star had been looking for something unusual to resurrect his career, and had worked for scale.

Dark Smoky Places had been released in 1994 to rave reviews, and fans had clamored for a soundtrack album. When the film had gone national the soundtrack was released, and album sales had gone through the roof. Then in February of 1995, “Fame and Fortune” had been nominated for an Academy Award, in the category of Best Original Song. It hadn’t won – the category’s victor that year had been a song from an animated movie – but Marty and Jennifer had attended the March event at the Shrine Auditorium, and when “Fame and Fortune” had been performed on stage (by the fictional – yet talented – band from the movie) Marty had been transfixed. Seeing his work, his words, brought to life on a stage at the fucking Oscars – he hadn’t thought life could get any better than those five minutes and 51 seconds. That was, until almost exactly one year later, when Jennifer had informed him she was pregnant with their first child.

After the Oscar nomination, Marty McFly became, at least for a short time, a household name - as well as incredibly well-off. Marty had used the not unsubstantial money from the soundtrack album sales to pay off Jennifer’s student loans, pay his parents back for the down payment they’d provided on Jennifer and Marty’s new house, and to buy the brand-spanking new RX-7. The Mazda was now over 20 years old, but Marty took immaculate care of it, working on it often and taking it to be maintained or detailed when there was something more complicated that he didn’t trust himself to do.

Even though not that many cars were driven solely on the surface, Hill Valley's streets and roads were kept up well, and Marty’s drive was pleasant – at least in the mechanical sense. Marty’s mind was whirling with angry and depressed thoughts, and when he reached his destination, pulling up the long drive that led to the large farmhouse, he remained sitting in his car, staring blankly out the windshield.

“Uncle Marty!”

Marty was startled by the small hand knocking on his driver’s side window. He looked to the left to see nine-year-old Evonne Brown outside his car. “Are you comin’ to our cookout?” she asked, as Marty extricated himself from his Mazda. “Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Ah, it's only me, Evie - I'm just looking for your grandpa.” Marty smiled woodenly at the tow-headed girl. “What, are you guys having a Labor Day weekend cookout or something?”

Verne Brown’s daughter nodded, then reached to grab Marty’s hand. “We’re all in the back. Grandpop recognized the sound of your car, and sent us to come get you.” She began to drag Marty toward the farmhouse. “I’m the fastest – I’m much faster than Flynn.”

As if he’d been summoned, Evonne's cousin (and Jules Brown’s youngest) came running around to the front of the house. “’lo, Uncle Marty!” eleven-year-old Flynn Brown called, throwing off a mock salute. “You’re just in time for lunch!”

Marty let Evonne and Flynn lead him to the back of the property. The two children (as well as Jules’s oldest, Gabe), commonly referred to Marty as their uncle. Verne and Jules had called him Uncle Marty at times when they were younger, although the moniker hadn’t lasted long, once the boys had gotten older and had started to view Marty more like an older brother. And as it would be with a sibling, after the Brown boys and Marty had had children, they’d automatically started to identify as uncles to each other’s offspring.

Once the trio arrived at the back of the house, Marty could see Verne and Jules arguing good-naturedly next to the fancy modified grill, an Emmett Lathrop Brown creation. Thirteen-year-old Gabe was seated at a nearby patio table, preoccupied with a science book of some sort. And Emmett “Doc” Brown, chronologically over 100 but appearing no older than seventy, was seated next to his grandson, pointing at a specific section of the tome.

“Look who’s here!” Evonne announced unnecessarily, burbling with excitement reminiscent of the effervescent behavior her father had displayed all through childhood.

Marty had barely nodded a greeting to Jules and Verne before Doc rose from the table, coming forward. “You made good time,” he said, smiling broadly at his longtime friend.

“I – what do you mean?”

Emmett’s smile softened. “Jennifer called. She said that you had gone for a drive, and that she was fairly confident you were headed here.”

“I’m that predictable, huh?” Marty grumbled, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.

“Well, only to someone who’s been in a romantic relationship with you for nearly thirty-five years.”

Marty huffed. “Did she tell you why I went for a drive?” he asked tonelessly.

Doc shook his head. “But I also know you pretty well, so my theory is that you need some advice about a family issue. And that you wanted to speak to an individual who is somewhat unbiased, which is why you came here instead of going to see your parents.”

Marty grinned in spite of his bad mood. “Can we go inside, Doc?”

Doc and Marty entered the house just as the Brown women were leaving the kitchen with an assortment of items for the cookout. Jules’s wife, Dee, kissed Marty on the cheek as she passed by with a platter of ready-to-be-grilled hamburgers and hot dogs. Verne’s wife, Elle, greeted Marty with a one-armed hug, trying to not spill the bowl of potato salad cradled in her other arm. Clara Brown brought up the rear, holding a pitcher of lemonade. “Marty, welcome!” she said, pleased to see their visitor. “Are you staying for the meal?”

“Uh, I wasn’t planning on it. I don’t want to impose, Clara – I really just came to talk to Doc about something that wouldn’t really translate on a vidcall.”

Clara laughed lightly. “Knowing you, Marty, even if all you had to ask Emmett was how he slept last night, you’d come out here to do it, just so you could drive that sports car of yours.”

Marty dipped his head, blushing. Even though he was now forty-nine, Clara had a way of making him feel like he was a teenager again.

“Marty and I are going to my study to chat,” Doc said to his wife. “Would you just save a plate for me, dear?”

“I don’t think it’ll take too long,” Marty said quickly. “I didn’t realize you guys had a cookout going – I won’t keep him, Clara.”

Clara took a hand off of the lemonade pitcher and made a quick swatting gesture. “Nonsense. There’s no need to rush, Marty.” She tipped her head in the direction of Emmett’s study. “Go talk. Then come have a burger or a hot dog. With the grill Emmett designed, even Verne is incapable of burning the meat.”

Once in Emmett’s study, the older man sat in the expensive leather chair behind his desk, but Marty remained standing. He walked over to the window, looking out at the nearly cloudless day.

Doc watched the middle-aged man for several moments, waiting for him to start. When Marty remained silent and still, Emmett sighed softly.

“What is wrong, Marty?”

Marty turned around, resting his rear against the window sill. He again stuck his hands into his pants pockets.

“Junior’s engaged.”

Emmett raised his eyebrows – his initial thought was to extend congratulations, but Marty’s sober demeanor stopped him from that immediate response. “Is that not . . . something to celebrate?” he said instead. “I thought you liked his girlfriend. Andrea?”

“Yeah. Andie. And I do like her. She’s been good for Junior, kind of grounds him, you know?” Marty let out a whooshing sigh. “I know the Junior I saw when you took me to 2015 never came to be, that that wimpy, easily-influenced loser was the result of growing up the son of a guy who’d flushed his life down the toilet, and a mother who'd felt like she’d ‘settled’ when she’d married her high school boyfriend out of pity.” The younger man sighed again. “But I still see that version of Junior in my memories, especially the last few years. I know now that’s why you took me to 2015.” He looked candidly at the scientist. “You could have just told me about the drag race accident, and how I’d screwed up my life, or you could have taken me just a little bit into the future, to see the wreck I’d become if I abandoned my music. But you knew me, and you knew I really needed to see how my bad decisions had affected the decisions of my future kids. You knew that needing to save them was the only thing that might get through my thick seventeen-year-old skull.”

Doc smiled mildly. “That was the general idea. Although you had worried me in 1885, after you impulsively agreed to that duel with Buford. That was the ultimate reason why I let slip that unfortunate comment about your future accident; my frustration got to me when I saw you with that gun.”

“Eh, that’s all in the past,” Marty said. “Way, way in the past. That’s not my problem right now.”

“So what is your problem?”

Marty spread his hands out in despair. “I don’t know! I just lost it when Junior and Andie told us the news. I got mad, and I was rude to Andie, and I got Jennifer pissed at me.”

Emmett see-sawed his hand. “She’s not exactly angry with you. It sounded more like she was confused, and concerned. She said she hasn’t seen you in such a temper since – “

“Since Marlene told us she was engaged, last year.”

Marlene and her boyfriend, Cameron, had shared the news with her family last November, during the young woman’s 20th birthday celebration. And here Junior's also now engaged, not even a year later, Marty thought in disbelief. He hadn’t needed to leave the house when Marlene had announced her engagement, but Marty had locked himself in the bedroom, grabbed the Les Paul guitar he kept stored in there, and started playing “Sweet Child O’ Mine” by Guns N’ Roses.

He thought back on that cringe-worthy emotional reaction now. “I don’t think I’m exactly handling these changes well. Remember the mess I was on Marlie’s wedding day?” Doc, Clara, and the rest of the Browns had been in attendance at the June wedding. “The father-daughter dance?” Marty continued. “I think I cried more that day than Jennifer.”

“That’s entirely understandable, Marty. Marlene is your first-born. I was similarly afflicted during Jules’s wedding.”

Marty pushed himself away from the window, and began to pace. “But I bet you didn’t lay into him when he told you he was engaged. Or Verne, either. I bet you didn’t go out to hide in your lab, or come up here, lock the door, and listen to some sappy music.”

“Well, no.” Emmett leaned back in his chair. “There would have been no point. No matter my feelings on the circumstances, Jules and Verne had to make their own decisions about their own lives, and I trusted them to do so. They were both capable of making intelligent choices about their conjugal futures, and Clara and I approved of the young women they chose to marry - although I know it took a little time for Clara to warm up to Joyelle.”

"Really? Elle? But she's perfect for Verne. I always thought Dee was more . . . standoffish." Marty quickly held up his hands. "At first, I mean."

"Yes, Deirdre is a bit more reserved, so Clara feels a kind of kinship with her, being raised in the mid-1800s as she was. Joyelle is so brash and outgoing that I think Clara was initially somewhat fretful, thinking that maybe Verne had proposed to a young woman who might not be able to commit. But you're correct - Joyelle and Verne are an ideal couple, and it didn't take long for Clara to see that." Doc lowered his chin, looking at Marty from under raised eyebrows. “You said you like Junior's girlfriend. You approve of Marlene’s husband as well, correct?”

“Yeah, Cam’s terrific. He’s smart, and he’s got a great job, and he really loves Marlie. I knew all of that before they got engaged. But just seeing that ring on her hand, and knowing that pretty soon she was going to be Marlene Jacobson. . . That she wouldn’t be at the table for supper every night, and I wouldn’t be walking past her room before going to bed, hear her on the phone, and knock on the door to tell her ‘lights out’. . .” Marty dropped down on the study’s couch. “And now it’s going to happen all over again. Junior and Andie want to get married in December.”

“So soon?”

Marty nodded, his face grim. “That’s what I said. They’re too young, and it’s too soon.” He heaved a sigh. “And when Junior’s gone – not begging to drive the Mazda, not playing with my guitars without asking . . . the house will just be so quiet.” He swallowed, feeling his throat tighten, then forced a weak smile. “Maybe Jennifer will finally let me have a dog.”

Emmett steepled his fingers under his chin. “I don’t think you’re necessarily upset at Junior and Andrea, regardless of their ages. I think you trust your son's judgement, as you've raised him well. I believe there is another explanation, although its manifestation may be a bit early. . . I'd say you’re experiencing empty nest syndrome.”

“What?” Marty looked at the floor thoughtfully, then glanced up. “You think that's all this is?”

“Maybe not all of it, but a good portion. You said you like Andrea, and you approve of her relationship with Junior. You are also fond of Cameron." Doc regarded his friend seriously. "You wouldn’t begrudge your children their happiness, would you?”

“Of course not, Doc! That’s the whole point of being a parent, to raise kids who are happy and healthy, right? It’s a parent’s job to make sure your kids have as good of, or hopefully better, life than you had. I don’t know.” He stood again, wandering around the small room. “Maybe it’s half empty nest, and half thinking that Junior could do so much more before he ties himself down. I mean, look at everything I had done by the time I was his age.”

“I hardly think that’s comparable,” Doc said wryly. “As your son didn’t have access to a time machine.”

“Well. . .“ Marty shrugged, grinning briefly. A frown soon appeared, though. “That’s another thing. When I wasn’t real enthused about the engagement, and Junior and I started to argue about ages and dates, he threw that in my face, right in front of Andie – he didn’t exactly mention time travel, but he made an obvious hint. That’s when I really got steamed. Jenn and I have always told the kids they couldn’t talk about time travel with anyone other than you guys. Hell, even my parents don’t know. Officially. I think both of them have suspicions – they’re just not quite sure what they’re suspicious about.”

“You know why Junior said whatever he did, don’t you?” Emmett asked. “You were both upset with each other, and he knew that that comment would make you angry. In a sense it was his way of telling you how hurt he was by you not celebrating his engagement.”

Marty stopped his wandering, and faced the man sitting in the chair. “Damn, Doc. I always knew you were a genius when it came to science and inventing, but when did you get to be so smart about shit like family dynamics?"

Emmett shrugged. “I read a lot.”

After the two men left the study and joined the group in the back yard, Marty was again encouraged to stay and eat. He begged off, not wanting to prolong his absence from home any longer. He was hoping that when he returned home that Junior and Andie would still be there, and that he’d be able to apologize to the both of them, and then finally congratulate the now-engaged couple.

Marty was pulling into his garage a little over an hour after he’d left – and at some time during that hour, Marlene and Cameron had arrived. The newlyweds’ new hover-car – the one Marty’s parents had gotten them for a wedding present – was parked in the four-car driveway of the McFlys’ comfortable house. When Marty walked from the attached garage into the house, he could hear voices coming from the dining room, so he tracked in that direction.

Andie and Junior were on one side of the dining room table, and Cam and Marlene were sitting across from them. The young couples were enjoying a small lunch of fruit, bread, and cheese. Marty watched unseen from the hallway, smiling faintly at the easy conversation and frequent laughter.

Four kids. I've got four kids now.

“Marty.”

He turned at his wife’s soft voice. “Hey, Jenn.”

She was standing behind him, holding a bottle of wine; she’d presumably just come up from the basement, where they had a minimal wine cellar. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Doc helped me figure things out, as usual.” He gestured at the wine. “What’s that for?”

“Oh.” Jennifer seemed to flounder a bit. “It’s . . . to celebrate. I know the kids are underage, but I don’t think one glass each will hurt.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Here – I’ll open it.” He took the bottle from her hands, and moved the rest of the way into the dining room. “Hey, kids!”

Four heads moved in his direction, and then Marlene jumped up from the table. “Daddy!” she cried, coming over to give him a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re back!”

“You act like I was in Alaska,” Marty chuckled, happily embracing his daughter.

Marlene laughed as well, her brown eyes sparkling. Neither of Marty's children had inherited his light blue eyes, a fact that Jennifer had bemoaned when both Marlene's and Junior's eyes had changed from newborn blue to brown. Marty, on the other hand, loved that both of his kids (who resembled him more than his wife) had Jennifer's beautiful brown eyes. “I just couldn’t wait until you got home," Marlene said as she pulled out of their embrace, "so we could share the news.”

“I heard the good news already,” Marty said. He looked apprehensively at Junior and Andie, and then smiled sincerely at the newly engaged couple. His look-alike son returned the smile, and just like that, Marty was forgiven.

“Oh, you did?” Marlene said, disappointed. She looked to her mother, and pursed her lips in dissatisfaction. “Mom, you said I could tell Dad!”

Jennifer shook her head quickly, holding up a hand. “Marlie, I didn’t say anything; I haven’t had a chance. Your father just got home.“

“So how did he already hear that I’m pregnant?”

The wine bottle slipped from Marty's grasp, exploding onto the tile floor.

“Pregnant?”

END