Chapter Text
Once Einstein was safely secured in the bathroom, the boy clasped his hands behind his back, scraping at the concrete floor with the toe of his tennis shoe. The bangs of his light brown bowl cut hung into his face, although it was still obvious that his gaze was firmly directed at the ground. He hunched his shoulders inward defensively.
“Now,” Emmett said, “What on Earth are you doing in my laboratory? This is no place for a child to be bumbling around.”
The boy mumbled something.
“What? You’re going to have to speak up, my ears aren’t as good as they used to be.”
“I wanted to see if the rumors were true.” The boy repeated, slightly more clearly, although Emmett still had to strain to interpret his words.
Emmett pinched the bridge of his nose. The rumors, the rumors! Of course there were rumors, he knew there were rumors, but couldn’t folks leave well enough alone? He wasn’t bothering anyone. Perhaps he could take this as a chance to set the most pernicious ones to rest.
He sighed. “Go on, then.”
“What?”
“Go on— what’s your name, boy?”
The boy paused for just a second too long before responding. “Marty.”
“Marty what?”
“Marty McFly.”
Ah, a McFly. Emmett didn’t know much about the McFlys, but the family had been in Hill Valley for his entire life and then some. He’d heard of them, here and there.
“Well, Marty, which rumors were you wanting to know about? I can’t confirm their veracity if I don’t know what they are.”
Marty looked up in surprise, meeting Emmett’s eyes for the first time. “Oh. Well, the kids at school say you’re a mad scientist.”
“Depends on your definition of mad, but, yes, I am indeed a scientist.”
“And you cut up cats and dogs and stitch them together.”
Emmett threw his hands up in protest. “Absolutely not! I, myself, am a lover of animals, and I wouldn’t dare perform such acts of cruelty. Where do they get these things?”
Marty shrugged. “I dunno, I’m just telling you what they told me.”
“I understand that perfectly well; I was being rhetorical.” At Marty’s blank look, he elaborated. “Asking a question I didn’t actually need an answer to.”
“Why would you ask a question if you don’t want an answer?”
Emmett paused for a second, caught off guard, and then chuckled. He himself struggled with that concept from time to time— it was at least partially to blame for his youthful reputation as a know-it-all. That, and the fact that he was a know-it-all. “Fair question. It’s just something people do from on occasion, I suppose. Is that all?”
“Uh…” Marty hesitated, like he was trying to decide whether he should speak, and then he seemed to remember something. “Did you burn down your house?”
Hm. Emmett had to think about how to respond. Yes, it was technically his fault, but he knew that the child was asking if he had burnt down his house on purpose. Which he hadn’t. Although, in retrospect, perhaps he shouldn’t have been doing those sorts of experiments so close to his stores of cypionic acid. “It was an accident.”
“So you did?”
“Insofar as somebody who forgets to snuff out a candle burns down their house. I didn’t purposefully decide to light it on fire, no. I'm no arsonist.”
“Oh, okay,” Marty said, “Well, that was just about it, except…”
“Except what?”
Marty’s cheeks went red, and again he hesitated, but for longer this time. He seemed to be going through a serious internal battle. Emmett remained quiet, waiting for him to decide which side won.
Eventually, when Marty did speak, he blurted it out, rushing his words together and getting quieter towards the end. “They say you, um, youusedtobeagirl.”
Emmett drew back, momentarily stunned. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised— he claimed to be a distant cousin upon his return to Hill Valley to take over the estate, but the lie would be transparent to anybody who knew him in his youth. There were still a handful of old-timers around to tell their children and grandchildren, perhaps even one of McFly’s own family members. But he had been living as a man for going on forty years now, with the assistance of his Masculinization Serum for much of that. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated— was this going to follow him forever?
“No!” Emmett protested, “Don’t be ridiculous. That's more far fetched than the idea of me vivisecting puppies.”
Was it his imagination, or did Marty’s face fall with something like disappointment? His face angled down again, so his eyes were again covered by a mop of hair. Emmett could only see his mouth, but was it pulled tight, like he was trying to suppress an emotional response.
“Oh.” Marty said, sounding entirely dejected. He turned away from Emmett, towards the door. “Okay. Sorry. I’ll— I can leave you alone now.”
Emmett felt thrown off-kilter. He thought he had known where the conversation was going to go, but it veered off into unknown territory. He felt the sudden urge to comfort the boy. He spoke softly, “It’s alright. You’re just passing on what you heard. It was nice to meet you, Marty.”
“Nice to meet you too,” Marty said, still sounding a bit bummed. “Mister…”
“Doctor Emmett Brown.”
“You seem like a swell guy, Doc. Sorry for breaking into your house.” And with that, Marty left, the door slamming shut behind him.
Emmett couldn’t get the interaction out of his head. Something wasn’t right, he knew, he couldn't form a conclusion with insufficient evidence. There were any number of explanations for Marty’s behavior— maybe he had a bet, or some other such childish game was being played.
Still, Emmett found himself going through the phone book later that afternoon. M. Malley, McDonald, McFly. George. That would be Marty’s father, correct? He dialed the number, and before long a woman’s voice came through the receiver.
“This the McFly household.”
“Ah, hello. Am I speaking to Mrs. George McFly?”
“Oh, no, that’s my mom. Let me get her for you.”
There was a clack noise as the handset was set down, and then the muffled sound of the girl yelling for her mother. Then the speaker rustled again, and a different woman’s voice came on.
“Lorraine McFly speaking.”
“Good evening, ma’am. I’m Doctor Emmett Brown. I just wanted to call because earlier today, your son found his way into my residence.”
“David? David did that? My goodness, I’m so sorry.”
“No, not David. Your other son,” Emmett said.
“My other son?” Lorraine queried, voice lilting with confusion. Emmett only now considered that perhaps the boy had given him a fake name.
“Marty, I think it was. Although I suppose it’s possible I have the wrong McFly—”
“Oh!” Lorraine exclaimed, “That’d be Margaret. Marty. Apologies for the confusion. She’s quite the tomboy, won’t even correct people when they think she's a boy.”
Emmett’s heart beat a little bit faster. That didn’t mean anything, not really. A lot of girls have tomboy phases; it didn’t mean Marty shared his… predilections. Besides, he had never personally met anybody else like him before; it had to be an unfathomably rare condition. He knew they existed, had read the case studies when he was developing his formula. And then there was that fellow in Britain— but what were the odds he'd find another such individual?
“You said she broke into your house?”
“Ah— Broke in is a bit hyperbolic, perhaps. The door was unlocked. But yes, h-Marty entered uninvited.”
“Again, I’m sorry about that. I’ll have a serious talk with her, and I’ll make sure her father hears about it as well,” Lorraine said.
Emmett frowned. He hadn’t wanted to get Marty in trouble, certainly not with her father; he knew what that entailed. His mouth began to run with minimal conscious thought behind it. “No, no, that wasn’t what I meant to imply. It was just a schoolyard dare; I remember taking my fair share of those when I was a child. Marty seemed like a very polite young… girl. Very respectful. I’ve been looking for a dog walker, actually, and I think she might be a good fit.”
He hadn’t meant to say that, but now that he had, he realized it was a good idea. Marty had seemed quite enamored with Einstein when he barreled towards her during her unexpected entry. The puppy had a surplus of energy, and while Emmett did his best, it would be good for him to get out a bit more.
“That’s very kind of you, Dr. Brown. I’ll still have a talk with her about those dares, but I’ll ask if she’s interested. It would be good for her to learn some responsibility. That girl can be a real bad hat sometimes,” Lorraine responded.
The two bid their farewells, and Emmett hung up.
What was he doing? Nothing about their interactions meant anything more than they appeared at face value, Emmett told himself, he can’t be projecting his own proclivities on a little girl who didn’t have anything figured out yet.
(But, a traitorous part of him whispered, you knew at that age.)
A few days later, Emmett was deeply involved in his latest project when he heard a quiet, tentative rap on the door. Einstein started barking, and Emmett grabbed his collar to keep him from jumping as he opened the door.
“Hi, Dr. Brown,” Marty said, half-shouting to be heard over Einstein’s yaps. “My mom said you wanted a dog walker?”
“Yes, yes, come in.” Emmett ushered her in. Marty’s eyes were locked on Einstein, who struggled at his restraint to greet her. “Let’s give him a moment to calm down before you say hello, or else he’ll never learn to collect himself.”
Marty looked around the workshop, eyes landing on every detail in turn. “You have a lot of clocks.”
“You have a keen eye. I have a bit of a personal interest.”
“In clocks?”
“In time.”
Marty gave him a skeptical look, but didn’t push the subject. “Looks like your dog’s calmed down. What did you call him? Einstein?”
“Yes, Einstein; that’s correct. After the scientist.” Emmett released Einstein, who trotted over to Marty, tail wagging so hard he could barely walk in a straight line.
“Huh, I thought it was after the opera singer.” Marty crouched down, allowing Einstein to lick her face, and ran her hands through the puppy’s fur. Thankfully, he didn’t immediately barrel Marty over.
The corners of Emmett's lips rose in spite of himself. “Come on, I’ll show you how I like to walk him.”
“It’s walking a dog, Doc,” Marty said, tilting her head, “how hard can it be?”
On the walk, Emmett quickly decided that he liked Marty. She asked questions about his work, and while she claimed not to be very smart, she seemed to pick up on his explanations without too much trouble. Quick-witted, too, forcing real laughs out of Emmett with ease.
When was the last time he had laughed with somebody? He kept his distance from people, sure, but he wasn’t that isolated, right?
They returned to the garage and unclipped Einstein from his leash. Exhausted, the dog jumped up on Emmett’s bed and promptly curled into a ball, head rested on his paws. Marty lingered in the doorway while Emmett fished his wallet out of his pocket. He pulled a few dollar bills out and held them out to her.
“Wow,” Marty said, taking the bills. “This is a lot, considering I didn’t even do anything.”
“Nonsense; one must be paid for training. Next time you’ll take him on your own, but this time it’s all about learning.”
Marty smiled toothily. “Thanks, Dr. Brown.”
“No problem, kid.” Something occurred to Emmett. He’d been trying not to think about it, to shove it behind him, but as much as he ‘knew’ Marty was a girl, the more he got to know her she just seemed like a boy. It wasn’t something that was easy to put his finger on, but there was something purposefully brash to her demeanor, walking with an exaggerated swagger. He knew better than anyone else that girls didn’t have to be the meek, prim things that everyone wanted to pretend they were, but even so, Marty just reminded him so much of his younger self.
“Say,” Emmett said, trying to keep his voice as casual as possible, “I don’t think I ever heard: what’s Marty short for?”
Marty was quiet for a long time and then spoke cautiously, studying Emmett’s face. “Martin. It’s short for Martin.”
Emmett returned a reassuring smile. “Alright, then, Martin. I’ll see you again in a few days.”
Marty left the garage with a thousand-watt grin on his face.