A/N: I can't believe this is the last chapter :O I am so sad D: But let me blab about that at the end of this, and for the final time of this story, ENJOY! (:

Chapter Ten

Back in Doc's van, Marty blinked and sat straight up, dazed, glancing out the window to see if his friend was coming anytime soon. He didn't know how long it'd actually been, but it felt like hours. He looked over at the warehouse by chance and, in what sunlight was barely there, saw not one, but two shadows on the ground outside the opened door. His blood ran cold and he froze. "Damn!" Marty murmured quietly, hardly needing to think before he knew what was going on. Opening the car door as quietly as he could, he grabbed Doc's stun gun, which he'd happened to see lying across the driver's seat, hoping it still worked. He cautiously made his way over to the side of the warehouse, ducking down so no one could see him outside the window. He heard Doc's voice inside, and then flinched as he also heard John's. He'd been sure he knew before, but finding out he'd been right was nearly too much for him. Dizzily, he steadied himself by putting a hand on the ground, and struggled to tune in the conversation.

"I saw you drive away in that van of yours, after talking about your sleep inducer to the woman behind the counter." John was saying. "And back then, I didn't think much of it. But when I needed the money, I knew exactly what I had to have to get it undetected, and uncaught; and how to find it."

Doc was once again silent, ashamed he could have been so foolish to speak so carelessly of his invention, though he had known the woman. Even then he remembered being a little suspicious of the man, who had noticeably walked just a bit closer when he'd been talking. He started as John took a step and was suddenly right in front of him, his gun pointed at Doc's chest.

Marty peered in through the window with a silent gasp, trembling violently and trying to get a grip on the weapon he barely knew how to use. Come on! he pleaded. He wouldn't let anyone else get hurt by these men, especially not Doc.

The other kidnapper had begun to stir too, and John smiled wickedly, putting his attention back on Doc. "And I am not going to jail because of you." He finished, and Doc closed his eyes. He heard two loud shots, both right next to him, and waited for the pain—until he realized he wasn't the one who was shot. John staggered back, dropped the gun, and fell to the ground. Doc whipped around to see Marty, holding the stun gun, pointed straight at where John had just been standing. "Yeah, you are." Marty breathed shakily, and then looked at Doc, who was staring back, his eyes wide. He feared the worst, squinting to look Marty over from where he stood, but saw no sign of new injury, and then finally understood the other shot he'd heard had also been from the stun gun, and had hit Baldy, who was once again still. Before he could say anything, Marty dropped the weapon and stumbled back with a groan. "Doc, I...I don't..." He never finished the sentence. His knees buckled, and Doc, who'd seen it coming a mile away, reached out with lightning-fast reflexes, catching him just before he would have hit the ground. After a moment of nearly overwhelming shock, Doc picked up Marty and carried him back to the van. With difficulty he managed to start the car, even though he was shaking terribly, and left the warehouse in the total darkness that had now fallen.

The next thing Marty knew, he was lying in a dimly-lit room, and it took him a few moments to realize he was in a hospital bed. He felt something wrapped around his head, and tried to raise his hand to it, but found it was being held by someone's soft grip. He blinked, seeing two blurred figures beside him, one sitting and one standing. "Mom? 'Zat you?" he murmured, his words unintentionally slurred into each other.

"It's okay," his mother replied. "You've been asleep for almost the entire day."

"Ohhhh…" He moaned, and then suddenly, foolishly, added, "That is you, isn't it?" After all the other times, he almost felt he couldn't be sure anymore.

Lorraine McFly smiled. "Yes, honey." She sounded as if she'd been crying. "And Jennifer's right here, too. How are you feeling?"

As she said this, Marty finally became aware of something. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had no headache; in fact, he had no pain anywhere! "Better," he said. He looked at his mother and then at Jennifer, whom both he could now see clearly, and then truly smiled for the first time since what had happened. "Oh Marty," Jen said slowly, "I was so worried about you!" She stood up, leaned over, and kissed his cheek.

"Where's…" Marty began, his mouth dry. "Where's Doc?"

"Dr. Brown?" His mother looked behind her as if just now realizing he wasn't there. "He was here earlier. I think he went to rest." She shook her head, looking up at the ceiling. "He looked almost as bad as you did! I've thanked him a hundred times and still can't do it enough."

Marty looked at the door as it opened, and a nurse came into the small room. She smiled at him and then waved a clipboard in her hand. "You seem better," she said cheerfully. "And you should be good as new with a week or two of rest." She glanced at the board. "Let's see, there were no serious injuries; a few cuts, mostly bruises, and a concussion."

Marty put a hand on his head, where he found a bandage around it. The doctor smiled once again and said, "Don't worry, it wasn't anything extreme. You'll be fine with rest."

"Ah, y-yeah, yeah thanks." Marty stammered, biting his lip. She glanced at his arm, and he looked down at his left wrist, which, because he hadn't yet moved it, he hadn't noticed it had an I.V. in it. "Are you in any pain?" she asked. "We've just given you some more pain medication, but you'll know if it's not kicking in; you'll have a pretty nasty headache."

No kidding. "I'm feeling great." Marty smiled at her, and she nodded. "I'll check on you in a bit." She said, and then left them alone. His mother smiled at him and then said, "You're father was here all night, too. I'll call him!" She hurried out of the room as Marty leaned back, and Jennifer smiled, taking his hand. "I love you," she murmured.

"I love you too," Marty replied. She brushed her hand against his cheek, and he flinched, much to her surprise. She jerked her hand back, thinking she'd hurt him, and he stared at her apologetically. "No—it's not—you didn't—" He winced and shook his head. "It wasn't you." He said finally, and she sighed sadly, stroking her finger along his hand. After a few moments, he closed his eyes, abruptly exhausted, and what only seemed like a second later, Jennifer had left, and someone else was in the room. "Doc!" The inventor turned around to face him. "I thought you were asleep." Doc murmured slowly, placing his hands on the back of the seat his mother had been in before. "How are you?"

"A lot better," Marty said honestly. "And you?"

Doc nodded. "Thank you." He said.

"Thank you for everything," Marty smiled slightly, and then blinked at him, a serious look crossing his face. "Did you find out if they were arrested?"

"Yes. Both of them are in custody now. They're to be sentenced sometime in the next week or two." Marty sank back with a sigh of relief. Then he looked to him, suddenly curious. "Wh—where did you get a stun gun?" he asked.

Doc cleared his throat. "Well, that morning I brought you back to my lab…I wasn't exactly working on my lamp…" he gave a half-smile. "I was afraid they might come back even then, but I hadn't wanted to worry you." He saw Marty's look of disbelief, and immediately added, "It was at my house when they came to the lab."

Marty nodded slowly, his eyelids all of a sudden very heavy. Whatever pain killer drug he was on had apparently reduced his strength to very little. Doc must have seen him struggling, because he stood and said, "I'll let you rest."

Right as he was leaving, Marty called softly, "Doc?"

"Yes?" He turned around, a hand still on the doorknob.

"Please…don't ever build another time machine." His tone was half joking and half dead serious.

Doc smiled softly. "Alright," he said, and closed the door.

—Two Weeks Later—

Marty McFly sat on his living room couch, staring out the window, his mind somewhere else as he listened to the low volume of the television he'd turned on just to get rid of the silence. He glanced over at the phone as it rang, and got up to grab it. "Hello?"

"Hello Marty," Dr. Brown answered quietly. "How are you doing?"

"I'm…fine. Good as new." Marty said hesitantly. He decided not to mention the fact that, although all his actual injuries were practically healed, he was still scared out of his mind that something else was going to happen. But he'd kept it from every conversation when this question came up, and he was determined to keep it that way, although he didn't quite know why.

"Hmm," Doc murmured, and Marty wasn't sure if he believed him or not, but he didn't say anything else about it. He was silent for a moment, and the teen asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Doc replied almost instantly, and Marty knew he'd also been lying. "I—I just still can't believe…I never thought…I'm so sorry. I feel like this has been my fault entirely."

"Get outta town, Doc, no way!" Marty said comfortingly. "You didn't know."

Doc cleared his throat. "I suppose." He finally muttered, though his voice hinted he still felt the exact opposite. He drew breath to say something else, but then Marty heard either Jules' or Verne's voice in the background, and Doc softly said, "I've got to be going."

"Yeah. See ya." Marty said, and suddenly he felt bad as he placed the phone back on the table. Not only had he completely failed to contact his friend, who'd in fact saved his life, in the last two weeks he'd been home, but he never once quite thought the man would react to everything that had happened by automatically thinking it was his fault because he'd known the burglar/kidnapper for an hour. He sighed, sitting back on the couch and leaning back. He'd make it up to him somehow—help him with a new invention or something. His mother came into the room and smiled at him with a slight tilt of her head. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

"No, no. I'm fine." He said. She nodded and bent over to kiss him on his forehead. Marty smiled, and then his eyes went behind her and he went pale. She turned around and realized he was looking at the television, which she hadn't even noticed was on. A brown-haired man had appeared on the screen, in handcuffs, held by police officers in what looked like the courthouse. Marty hesitantly reached for the remote, raising the volume, feeling sick to his stomach.

"…charged with the robbery of over four hundred thousand dollars, which was uncovered in the cars of whom assisted the thieves and were caught just barely four days before the two were, and kidnapping."

Marty flinched, and Lorraine finally understood. "Oh my…" she murmured, and she sat next to him. "I'm sorry, sweetie, it's okay." She said, hugging him. "I love you." He blinked, relaxing again. Looking over at the T.V. once more, he heard, "…both sentenced to thirty-five years…"

Marty stared at the man on the screen—John—and the man now next to him—Baldy—and couldn't help a satisfied smile from crossing his face. Thirty-five years, he thought, almost amused. After all the men had done to him, he wouldn't have cared less if it had been fifty. Have fun in jail, assholes. He glanced up at his mother, once again relieved to be home and safe.

"I love you too."

Five stars for cheesy, 50% badly-written, but happy endings! Whoo! ^^

So yes, Back to the Future Part IV is finally COMPLETED. Yay! Wait…aww!*cries* Thank you to every single one of my reviewers who've stuck with me through my story (AND my annoying—*cough*but probably true*ahem*—self-criticism :P) You've all been so kind to me and it's really given me a reason to make sure I didn't abandon this :) I hope to start up another fic soon, and I'll be lucky if I get half as much support as I did with this one!

See you in the future! :D

-StrawberryBubble