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        1986.

Marty McFly thought he had a pretty great life.

        He was in a band, started year before last with some of his friends, which was quickly gaining momentum in his hometown of Hill Valley. He was dating the girl of his dreams, the enchanting Jennifer, who had just been accepted to Cal-Tech. His father was touring with his latest book, raking in thousands.

        Today, however, he was feeling pretty down, even though he had every reason to be ecstatic.

        One of his oldest and closest friends, Doc Emmet Brown, was visiting. Which, in and of itself, was a pretty rare thing. The Doc lived in Hill Valley, as well, but Doc tended to live in the past.

Literally. As in, he usually lived in the year 1894.

        Doc’s greatest invention, (and maybe the only one that functioned properly) was time travel. Marty himself had become the first human being to travel through time*, going on an unforgettable adventure during summer of last year. A wild, crazy, unpredictable adventure, which may or may not have almost destroyed the universe once or twice.

        He traveled to 1955, and encouraged his father to ask out his mother.

        He traveled to 2015, and stopped his own son from being arrested.

        He traveled to 1955 again, and prevented his hometown from becoming a crime hub.

        He traveled to 1885, after the Doc got zapped there, to try and bring him home.

        That last adventure didn’t really go as planned. Doc fell in love with Clara Clayton, a schoolteacher, and he stayed behind to live happily ever after with her, in the old west. Marty found his way back to 1985, then succinctly destroyed the time machine, at Doc’s request.

        One day after coming home, however, Marty saw Doc once again. He had spent eight long years creating a time machine again, with the materials he had in 1885. In 1893 he had finished it, and took Clara and their two sons to the future, to greet Marty.

        The old time machine was built into a car, Doc’s old DeLorean. The new one was built into a steam locomotive. Both machines, at one point or another, flew.

        Marty chuckled to himself as he thought of the flying train. He was sitting in the cafe, now, in the year 1986. Doc was sitting across from him, dressed in his 1894 duds, gloomily sipping a banana milkshake. Doc tended to visit Marty, and they still kept on good terms. However, they both agreed that their visits correlate with their own personal timelines. The same amount of time passed for both of them, between visits.

        Marty did not particularly care for this plan, as it left him very little time to see the Doc. In the year that followed their original adventure, he had only seen Doc and his family on three occasions, and usually not for more than an hour or so.

        Today, however, Doc had been on the receiving end of a particularly angry argument with Clara. Instead of the proverbial sleeping on the sofa, however, Clara had dumped him here, in 1986, while she took their sons to the Renaissance.

Marty was glad to see Doc again, but the wild-eyed inventor was not in an up-beat mood.

        “Come on, Doc!” Marty reached a hand over the café table, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s not the end of the world. She’ll come around, she just needs time to relax.” Doc continued to slurp his milkshake, not looking up. “It’s not like this is the first argument you’ve ever had!”

        “Oh, but it might as well be!” Doc’s eyes flicked up, his voice taking an overly-dramatic tone. “We’ve had arguments before, sure, but rarely were they this aggressive. And those that were this aggressive happened all before I finished the Time Locomotive!” He clapped his hands to his face and groaned. “She’s kicked me into the forge, hell, even the barn! But now she has the very unique ability to kick me into another century when she’s mad.”

        “Well, what was the argument even about?” Marty tried to bring the topic up tactfully, as though her weren’t interested.

        Doc smirked. Marty was never known for his subtlety. “She got her hands on a Polaroid, and wanted to go back and photograph Jules’ and Verne’s births. I thought it was too dangerous. But,” He sighed and let his hands fall to the table. “it really kind of escalated from there. I even think she agreed with me about the pictures. We both said a lot of things we regret.”

        “So no pressure!” Marty raised his hands at his sides. “You both blow off some steam, yadda yadda, everyone’s happy.”

        “I suppose.” Doc downed the last of his milkshake, then looked out the window. “I don’t know what I could do to ‘blow off steam’, however.”

        Marty smiled. “I got you covered, Doc. I know someone who’d love to have a chat with ya.”

        Doc puzzled over this for a moment. “Who?”

        “Jennifer!”

        “Oh! I never thought she liked science, though.”

        Marty gave the scientist a flat look. “She was accepted to Cal-Tech with a scholarship for Chemical Engineering. And, she knows about the time machine! I’m sure she’d love to ask you about all the people you’ve met.”

        Doc let out an old smile. “Yes, there’ve been a few interesting people I’ve met this past year, that’s for certain.”

        They both rose from the table. “Alright, Marty, I’ll try to unwind. It’s not every day you can re-visit your old home town, after all.”

        “That’s the spirit, Doc.” Marty said, then flicked Doc’s cowboy hat. “But I think you might wanna change your clothes, before we head out.” Doc glanced down at his 1894 cowboy ensemble.

        “Ah. Of course. Thank you, Marty.”

        “Don’t mention it.”

        A few hours later, and Doc and Marty stood in the doorway of Doc’s old garage. “I’ll be, Marty,” Doc said. “You’ve really made yourself... comfortable.”

        “Yeah, me and the guys used it as a rehearsal space, I hope you don’t mind.” Marty hurriedly swept up pile of empty papers and discarded cans. Where once a semi-organized mess of half-finished ideas and an automatic dog feeder sat, there were now guitars, amps, and patch cords, littered across the floor.

        “Don’t fret, Marty. It’s not like I’m using it anymore.” Doc stumbled over a cable, strung across the ground. “Ge-ah! Just, ah, maybe you could clean up a bit more in the future.”

        “I’ll try, Doc.” the short teenager gestured towards the ceiling. “Where’d you get this place, anyway?”

        “You don’t recognize it? Well, I do guess the scenery has changed quite a bit...”

        “What? Recognize what?”

        “Come with me.”

        The old inventor led Marty out onto the street, standing across from the garage. It was already dark, and no one was outside, the small industrial neighborhood keeping quiet, but for a distant bark of a dog. “Look up there,” Doc said, as he lifted a finger up and to the left of the garage, “and imagine a hill.”

        “Okay.”

        “Now look back to the garage.”

        “Uh-huh.”

        “And back to the hill...”

        “Doc, I don’t... woah!” Marty’s eyes lit up as realization struck him. “Your mansion! That’s the garage from the mansion!”

        “Spot-on, Marty. The mansion was destroyed in a fire, in 1962. After it happened, I-”

BANG

        Doc was cut off by a loud noise. Both of the time traveler’s heads swung left, back up the dark street, looking to the source of the noise. “Doc...” Marty breathed out. “Doc, that sounded just like-”

BANG

        “It can’t-”

BANG

        A huge flash of light illuminated the street for a mere moment, and an all-too-familiar DeLorean came hurtling down it, rapidly losing inertia and coming to a halt directly in front of the pair. Fog rose steadily from the frost-bitten car as they watched, both jaws agape.

        In front of them sat a Delorean. The DeLorean, if appearances were anything to go by. A once-sleek silver car, covered in wires and vents, and a jumbled mass of machinery above the trunk. This was the DeLorean Time Machine.

        Verifiably not destroyed.

        Doc sputtered out a few words. “I-I can’t b-believe it... This is imp-posible...”

        Marty shrugged and took a step towards the silver vehicle. “Yeah, I’ve been a bit burned out on the ‘impossible’s since last year, let me tell ya.” He slowly walked around the car to the driver’s side, reaching to open the door.

        “Wait, Marty!” Doc raised his hands. “Be careful. We don’t know who’s inside.”

        Marty blinked, nodded, then opened the door anyway. “Marty-!”

        “Relax, Doc. It’s empty.”

        The old man cocked his head. “What?!” He jumped across the street and stuck his head in the butterfly doors. Indeed, the seats were empty. “What?!”

        Doc removed his head and took several steps back, looking the time machine up and down. “But the DeLorean was destroyed! It-”

He stopped speaking and slapped a palm to his face. “Look at that! The time circuits I built in 1955 are missing.”

        “Yeah, I got em in here.” Marty stuck his head out of the driver’s seat and threw up an arm. “The old ones. Err, the new ones.” he waved his hand. “The Japanese ones.”

        “What are you doing inside the car? N-nevermind” Doc shook his head and quickly walked over to the passenger section, getting in to the machine, himself. Resting on the dashboard were three rows of glowing clocks. “These... are the time circuits!”

        “Yeah, I just said that.” Marty tapped his knuckle against them. “Looks like last time departed was... a few hours from now.” He removed his hand and subconsciously found the ignition. A wide grin plastered itself on his face. “Hey, Doc. You’ll like this.”

        “Hang on, Marty, there’s something atta-”

        He was cut off by the sound of the engine flaring to life again. Marty whooped and pressed his foot down on the gas pedal. Bracing himself for a lurch forward, Doc threw his hands onto the dashboard.

        Instead, he tumbled to the floor of the car as it soared into the air. “Marty! What are you doing?!?”

        Marty laughed again and grabbed the back of Doc’s lab coat. “Come on, Doc, close the door. We don’t want you falling out!”

        Doc quickly righted himself in his chair and pulled the door shut. “Marty, we need to land immediately! We don’t know what modifications have been made to the car!”

        “Modifications? Doc, this is a flying car. Let’s just cruise around for a bit.”

        “As I was trying to say before I suddenly defied gravity,” Doc snapped, “There has been at least one modification made to this time machine! Look.” He pointed to the right side of the time circuits, where Marty could only see several uninsulated gold-colored wires. He took a moment to lean his head to the side, getting a full view of the new addition.

        Attached to the right of the clock labeled “Destination Time”, there was what looked like a porcelain flick-switch. It protruded from the side of the time circuits, and the exposed gold wiring ran in loops, up and down the back. “Huh. That’s... weird, Doc, I’m gonna admit. But someone sent it to us, right? It’s gotta be safe.”

        As an old habit, he did a quick check of the DeLorean’s interior, to make sure everything was working correctly. He glanced over his shoulder, where he saw a familiar sight, marred by another, not-so-familiar one. “I think I found another, uh, modification.”

        Doc turned and followed his gaze, as Marty returned to steering the flying car. The inventor was greeted with the sight of three glowing tubes, arranged in a Y formation and gently pulsating. The Flux Capacitor.

        What wasn’t so familiar was the large ruby, set into the car below it. Doc’s eyes widened. It was surrounded by more of the same gold-colored wiring, and almost as large as a fist. “Great Scott!”

        “What is that thing? Some kinda crystal?”

        “No, no, I worked as a jeweler for a few months, and believe you me, that is, in fact, a priceless, flawlessly-cut ruby! That thing could pay for this entire town!”

        Marty turned his attention to the steering wheel again, bringing the car to a halt, several hundred feet in the air. He yanked the stick into the parking position, then turned to look Doc eye-to-eye. “Alright, Doc, what’s going on here?”

        Doc’s eyes were ablaze with furious determination. “I’m not sure! But I am almost certain that this switch-” he gestured to the time circuit’s new addition “-and this ruby have something to do with each other. I believe, before we can proceed, we must find out what.”

        Marty blinked, nodded, and before Doc could stop him, reached over and flicked the porcelain switch, keeping a straight face the entire time. Doc made to stop him, “Marty-!” but was too late.

        Nothing happened. They both sat there for a moment, apprehensive, when suddenly one of the time circuits flickered. The month and day and hour didn’t change, but the year flicked for a moment to 1885-

        -Doc rolled his eyes-

        -and then settled on the year 1002.

        The veteran time travelers blinked. Doc quickly turned to glance at the Flux Capacitor’s new ruby, then turned back. “Huh.”

        Marty chuckled. “Heh, I guess this little guy does something different.” He gave the large gem a small flick, to emphasize his point.

        In response to the flick, for a mere instant, the ruby glowed. As fast as it appeared, the glow departed from the ruby, and rapidly traveled in a shock wave, across every surface of the interior of the DeLorean.

As the crimson glow passed over them, Marty felt an intense pain run through his hands, where he was touching the surfaces of the car. “What the hell?!”

        The glowing red ring seemed to lose strength, but continued. It swept across the dashboard and vanished, and the car’s engine began to loudly sputter. The headlights flicked off, and Marty felt the car’s engine die completely.

        For a split second, the time machine hung in the air, then rapidly began to plummet down to the earth below it. The time travelers within began screaming their lungs out.

        “AAAAHHHHHH!!!”

        “AAAAAHHHHH!!!”

        “AAAAHHHHHH!!!”

        “THE IGNITION! TURN THE IGNITION!!!”

        “AAAAAHHOOKAY! OKAY!”

        Marty and Doc were flailing about in the cabin of the DeLorean. Marty grabbed the wheel and pulled himself towards it, and reached a hand down to turn the ignition. Doc glanced up, and saw the bright lights of Town Square, rapidly getting closer and closer.

        “MARTYYYY!!!”

        “THE ENGINE WON’T TURN OVER!!!”

        “KEEP TRYING!!!”

        As the brightly-illuminated ground grew closer and closer, sparks began to flicker outside the windshield, flicking this way and that as the car tumbled around. Marty was still furiously working the ignition, rubbing the dashboard and praying. Doc glanced worriedly at the halo of light and sparks that surrounded the car, still gripping to the passenger seat.

        As the sparks grew too intense to look at, the ruby set below the Flux Capacitor started glowing. Brightly. It quickly went from a faint light, deep within, to a blinding red-tinged beacon, illuminating the interior of the DeLorean.

        If any of the residents of Hill Valley were to stand in Town’s Square that night and look up, they would see a brightly glowing ball of red and white light, hurtling towards the ground.

BANG

        The car seemingly vanished, leaving four trails of fire, hurtling towards the ground in place of the car’s tires. They hit the central fountain with a large hiss and threw up a huge cloud of steam.

        After the steam cleared, not a thing was out of place in Town’s Square.

        Off in the distance, a dog began barking.

*Technically, the first person was Doc, on his arrival in 1885.