[Impossible. It's his least favorite word, one he'd hated writing in that letter just a few weeks ago, and now he sees it again. Doc feels his heart drop with every word. He certainly hopes Marty doesn't flagrantly disobey his request and travel back to 1885, but there's another chilling possibility: the porter. If he were to port in after this transformation...
Doc could see Marty's wide blue eyes and familiar life preserver in his mind's eye. He'd be racing outside to investigate as he always did, staring down a Comrade Brown leading his new 'friends' to their brand new time machines, only a second before the sky turns hazy with the sweep of oncoming doom.
No.
Doc clutches at his chest. He doesn't want to believe, he's been taught not to believe, but this nuclear path only brings destruction, he could doom the world, and what would his best friend say?
It's been more than nine months since they were forcibly separated, but he can still hear Marty's voice in his head clear as day. And maybe it's a lingering effect of the mind haze, but he swears he can almost feel him insistently yanking on his coat lapels.]
Jesus Christ, Doc, what the hell? You're giving nukes to the Soviets? You got shot full of holes to keep 'em away from the Libyans! Hello? Earth to Doc!
[It's so clear. How could he ever allow that to happen? The deeply ingrained urge to stand by him, to fight for what they knew was right...it brings Doc to shame. He lies on the bed, fighting back a lump in his throat as he bats back those intrusive thoughts. It's a few minutes before Doc feels steady enough to give Perry an answer.]
...You're absolutely right. I can't do that to him. Or anyone. No matter what it takes, I must resist.
[Doc manages a shaky smile. He has someone to resist for now, someone he can't believe he didn't think of before. Trying to push the thoughts of him away in his grief, as it turned out, hadn't been the best idea. He would always cherish, always remember, and most importantly...]
And I don't think I care to accept impossibilities anymore. Once we're through this crisis, I will find my way back to him.
(text)
Doc could see Marty's wide blue eyes and familiar life preserver in his mind's eye. He'd be racing outside to investigate as he always did, staring down a Comrade Brown leading his new 'friends' to their brand new time machines, only a second before the sky turns hazy with the sweep of oncoming doom.
No.
Doc clutches at his chest. He doesn't want to believe, he's been taught not to believe, but this nuclear path only brings destruction, he could doom the world, and what would his best friend say?
It's been more than nine months since they were forcibly separated, but he can still hear Marty's voice in his head clear as day. And maybe it's a lingering effect of the mind haze, but he swears he can almost feel him insistently yanking on his coat lapels.]
Jesus Christ, Doc, what the hell? You're giving nukes to the Soviets? You got shot full of holes to keep 'em away from the Libyans! Hello? Earth to Doc!
[It's so clear. How could he ever allow that to happen? The deeply ingrained urge to stand by him, to fight for what they knew was right...it brings Doc to shame. He lies on the bed, fighting back a lump in his throat as he bats back those intrusive thoughts. It's a few minutes before Doc feels steady enough to give Perry an answer.]
...You're absolutely right. I can't do that to him. Or anyone. No matter what it takes, I must resist.
[Doc manages a shaky smile. He has someone to resist for now, someone he can't believe he didn't think of before. Trying to push the thoughts of him away in his grief, as it turned out, hadn't been the best idea. He would always cherish, always remember, and most importantly...]
And I don't think I care to accept impossibilities anymore. Once we're through this crisis, I will find my way back to him.