Back to the Future Fan-fiction

Chapter Twenty-Four || Doc's Turn

Prologue: How did Marty know how to save himself in his duel against Buford?

There they were, standing in the middle of the town square, facing each other off in the old west.

If Marty had guessed what his death would've been a year ago, hell, even months ago, he would've predicted he would die of old age or something. But never in a million years, would he have guessed that he would be shot in an old Western battle.

But that's exactly what happened on that fateful morning of September 8th, 1885.

The backstory behind all of that was Marty had gone back to 1885, to prevent his friend Dr. Brown from being shot to a terrible death by Buford Tannen. About 2 days in at the Hill Valley festival was Doc confronted by Buford, who nearly shot Doc before Marty had stopped the him. Buford was obviously enraged that he had missed his shot at Doc and instead challenged Marty to a duel. Marty was hesitant to, but after being called a chicken and figuring that he would already be gone to return to the future by then, he took Buford up on his challenge. After all, what kind of a chicken would he be if he said no to a dare? He couldn't let people call him that and get away with it, after all.

But much to Marty's luck, or lack of luck, time was cut short and Buford was ready to battle. "He's an asshole!" Marty had yelled, not wanting to fight with Buford anymore because he had realized his worth at this point. However, his words were much too late, as Buford was already waiting for him with a gun intact. Seamus, his great great grandfather, had slid him a gun to defend himself, but Marty already had a colt peacemaker; he didn't need it, and assumed that he and Tannen would be able to resolve this peacefully. He had also tried to forfeit to make time for Doc to wake up, but no matter what the possibilities were— that was proving impossible. So instead, Marty had gone outside to face Buford and ask for a peaceful duel and release Doc, who was panicking and struggling against the wrath of Buford's goons. Doc screamed "no!" Inside his head, knowing that bloodshed would end up being the final case no matter what would be said.

"Just let my friend go. Let's settle this like men." Marty had objected, dropping his gun to the floor to display no hospitality. But Buford was in no mood to listen. Instead, he stood there, hand on his pocket, with a devious smirk on his face. "You thought wrong, dude," was all Buford said, before fatally whipping out his pistol and shooting Marty in the chest.

Poor, innocent Marty was never expecting this. He gasped, as the bullet left the pistol and pierced his chest.

His entire body slammed backwards into the ground, large and heavy breaths instantly leaving his body. Blood began to pool out from underneath him, as he heaved up the dusty floor surrounding him. The world felt heavy around him, and the only thing besides pain and agony detected was a sensation of movement. The last sense of life.

Doc, on the other hand, was shocked beyond words. A large angry gasp left his mouth, and Biff's goons let him go; They were shocked too. His white, crystal eyes stared at Marty, who was bleeding helplessly on the dirt. Behind him, he could hear horses speed up and arrest Tannen, who no longer could shoot Doc or Marty. But Tannen's protesting drowned out in the background, and Doc's attention diverted to Marty. "Marty!" He cried, running up to his friend. He knew it wasn't what Marty was supposed to be called, but he had screwed up the space-time continuum so much that it didn't matter to him anymore. "Marty!"

"Doc?" Came a raspy voice from his side. Marty was alive, at least, but deep down Doc knew he wouldn't make it. His injuries for far too devastating for this age. "Doc?"

"Oh my god," Doc muttered, a wave of hopelessness rushing through him. "Oh my god, Marty. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," was all he said, over and over again. Marty faintly gave him a weak smile.