So Simple
By Ael L. Bolt

Rating: PG for suicidal thoughts
Genre: Angst
Summary: Alone in the middle of the night, a tormented Marty thinks about death. No slash.

Author's Note: I was going through a little short depression for maybe two days, and it's still lingering on. Somehow writing about it helps, and far be it from me to not take the opportunity to write a fanfic. So yeah, here's my little angsty ficlet of the day.

- - - - - - -

I can't do this anymore.

It's been four nights, and I can't sleep without remembering. To lose him and gain him again should have made me happy, but it doesn't. I can't stay here.

Every night, I wake up in a cold sweat after another nightmare. I lie in the unfamiliar room, a place I never thought I'd be, and stare at the elegant ceiling. Gunshots echo in my ears, and I feel compelled to get up. So I do, and I find myself in his doorway, watching him. Sleeping peacefully, oblivious to what I know, he doesn't react to my presence.

I stand there and just watch him, reassuring myself that yes, he is breathing and alive. Another day, another night, and yet he lives. I don't try to delude myself; he doesn't know me. It was hard enough convincing him that I wasn't crazy, and he doesn't know me. He won't let himself know me. It's just that simple.

So simple...

I want to warn him, to let him know what's coming, but he won't listen. He was always stubborn that way. If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything. That's what he always told me. But I think he's put his mind to not finding out anything else about the future. Every attempt on my part to give him any sort of tiny detail has been met with fierce resistance, almost fanatical refusal. So I have to treasure what time I have.

But he doesn't know me. Half the things I talk about, he hasn't even heard of yet. Our in-jokes have lost all meaning without his knowledge, and I can't tease him. I'm terrified that he'll just throw me out if I do, leaving me to defend myself in a strange world where nothing seems familiar. Not even him.

I've never told him what he means to me. I'm sure he knows, but I've never actually said the words. He's always been there for me, ever since I was just a little boy. He was there for me when I was dumped by my first girlfriend, and he even hooked me up with Jennifer. He was there for me when Dad was mugged and put in the hospital because of his cowardice. He was there for me when I learned to ride a skateboard, when I got my first guitar, when I wrote my first song. He was always there whenever I needed someone to talk to, or just silent company. He never accused me of anything, and he was always encouraging me to think for myself.

Four days ago...has it only been that long?

Four days ago, I watched the man who I've considered to be a father for my entire life get ruthlessly gunned down by terrorists...and I knew I would never see him alive again. I'd forgotten about his newest invention in the heat of the moment, and recklessly tried to evade his murderers. I obviously succeeded, but now...

I have him back, but maybe it would be better if I hadn't tried to escape from the terrorists. If this plan works, and I get back to my own time...I don't know what I'm going to do without him. How do you try to pick up where you left off and carry on as if nothing happened when your entire life has shattered?

There is no going back.

It's just that simple. So very simple.

Three more days. In three more days, I will either be trapped here forever, or return to a world without my best friend. I can't stay here, I don't belong and I could mess up my own existence even worse than I have already...but how can I go on, knowing that he won't be there for me?

I have to try to save him. He may not want me to, but I have to try. He may be the most pigheaded person I know when he doesn't want anything to do with what you're saying, but I can't afford to fail. If I can't save him, then why should I go on living? There's nothing for me back home...it's just that simple.

So simple.

I only have three days to tell him. He's not going to want to listen to me, so I'm going to have to make this count. If I can't...I'll need to treasure these last few days. Even if he doesn't know me...I'm never going to see him again. An entire week with him, after his death, is bringing me closer and closer to the edge. Dark oblivion tempts me at every turn, and the chance that I could save him is all that keeps me going. If I fail...

It would be so easy. There are so many ways I could be reunited with him. I could just let the DeLorean crash...eighty-eight miles per hour should be enough to free me. Or I could just play around with the plutonium without the radiation suit on...that would be ironic, wouldn't it? Killed by the very thing that caused his death, albeit indirectly.

I won't lie to myself; I know he's never going to listen to me. But that won't stop me from trying, and treasuring every single moment I have left with him, no matter how agonizing they are.

This is my last chance. And when I've failed, I won't wait. All they'll find of us will be our bodies, while our spirits have gone on to eternity. Will they be able to tell that I've killed myself, or will they think it was an accident? I guess it won't matter to me by then. They'll mourn, they'll bury us, and they'll move on. It's as simple as that.

So simple...

But if that's true...

Then why can't I let him go?