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“Marty?” He called, pulling the door open slowly, wiping his feet off on the shabby welcome mat.
“Come in,” Marty responded, walking across the room, his dog in tow. “No- get down, Huey,” Marty mumbled, pulling the dog away from Emmett as he nearly fell over. Emmett giggled and pet Huey, setting down his saxophone case.
“What’re we doing today?” Emmett asked eagerly, following Marty to the corner where he kept the music stuff.
“Ah, I don’t really know, I kind of forgot you were coming today,” he said awkwardly. “How about we just talk? I haven’t done that with you in a while.”
“I don’t know..” They boy said, sitting down. “What is there to talk about, anyway?”
“How was school?” Marty asked, sitting next to him on the couch in the living room. The room was pretty run down, random garbage tossed everywhere, and the smell of smoke lingered. He had seen Marty smoking a couple times, but he had quickly put it away, not wanting to be a bad influence or something.
“I flunked my stupid law test,” he groaned, kicking a stray Pepsi can on the floor. Marty shifted awkwardly, clearly trying to say something, but hesitating.
“Is your- will your father be mad?” He asked slowly. Emmett nodded, biting his lip.
“I’ll probably just lie about it for now, but when the report cards come out I’ll be in big trouble,” he sighed, petting Huey who had moved to a position next to his feet.
“Well, Uhm. You can always stay at my place, if you want,” Marty said. The place technically only had one bedroom, but there was the couch they were sitting on, which pulled out, even if he had never used it for that before.
“No, it’s fine. I need to tell him eventually that I don’t want to focus on law, I guess,” he said, then quickly added, seeing Marty’s frown, “Thanks for the offer though!”
Marty nodded. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.” Emmett suddenly found the floor very interesting.
“I’ll be fine,” He said firmly. “I’ve been trying to focus on my science stuff anyway.”
“Thats good, that's good. Whatcha working on?” he asked, now standing up.
“Oh, you know,” he said vaguely. Marty just nodded. He didn’t want to tell his mentor about the Time Machine until it was almost done, it could be dangerous, and he wasn’t even sure how he was going to acquire the plutonium.
“Now, let’s play some music!” He said, slapping his knees, and Emmett joined him in standing.
———————————
“Hi, Father,” Emmett called, stepping into the Browns mansion. He took his shoes off slowly, not really wanting to see his father.
“Emma.” His father said sternly, stepping into the entry way. The boy flinched at his old name, but tried not to show his discomfort. “Why did your teacher call me about a failing grade, in your law class, no less?” He said, moving closer to the boy. Emmett saw that angry look, and the way his fist was clenched.
Without even thinking, Emmett threw the door open and ran away as fast as he could, abandoning his shoes and leaving the door wide open. “Emma!” He heard his father scream, but he was already gone. The pebbles dug into his socks, and he gritted his teeth.
Finally, out of breath, he arrived at his mentor's house. “Marty?” He called, opening up the door, still panting.
“Back so soon? What happened?” Marty asked, seeing his friend out of breath.
“Pop freaked out because the teacher told him I failed the test, and I was not going to stick around for that, so I ran,” he explained. Marty nodded.
“You’re good to stay here then,” he smiled, gesturing to the couch.
“Thanks,” he nodded. “You don’t happen to have a pair of shoes I could borrow, do you?” He asked, gesturing to his feet.
“I don’t, sorry. I don’t have the money to have extra pairs,” Marty said, frowning. “We can figure that out in the morning when you need some for school. Right now, I’m more worried about the fact that you have to go back eventually.”
Emmett sighed. “I guess I do, don’t I? Whenever I go back, I’ll just be in big trouble. And I’m sure he’ll come looking for me if I’m not back by tomorrow night.”
“I’ll deal with him then. I want you to be safe.” Marty said firmly. “You’re the only friend I’ve got,” he said, pulling Emmett into a hug.
And, in that moment, Emmett truly felt happy. He really did. “I should get to sleep. It’s almost ten,” he said, checking his watch.
“Right,” Marty nodded. “I’ll get you a blanket.”
—————————
The day at school had been torture. He had spent the full day convinced his father would come and make a fool out of him in front of his whole class, telling him off for failing the test. He was already the laughing stock, especially today, as he was wearing Marty’s shoes, which were far too big on him. Imagine what they would think of him if that happened. He shuddered at thought.
Luckily, that didn’t happen, and Emmett went back to Marty's house, reluctantly. Not that he didn’t like his friend, he was just worried his father would be there. He slowly creaked the door open, and began to hear an argument, against Marty and a voice that sounded suspiciously like his father.
Emmett breathed in, mentally preparing himself for whatever punishment he was about to get.
“You can’t just hit your kid! This isn't 1900 anymore for gods sake!” He heard Marty yell.
“Well, If Emma hadn't decided that she wanted to be a boy, maybe I wouldn’t be so harsh!” His father snapped. Shit. Marty didn't know yet, and now he was finding out through his father screaming at him.
“My name is Emmett!” He blurted, stepping into the living room. Oh no. Oh no oh no. He put his hands in front of his face to stop his father from hitting him, but nothing happened. He opened his eyes, and looked up. Marty had grabbed his fathers hand, holding him back.
“Don’t hit your kid.” Marty repeated, letting go. “If I hear about anymore of this, I'll call the cops.”
“And they’d believe a Burger King employee over a lawyer?” Erhardt snarked, moving away from Marty.
“They’d believe the child.” Marty jeered, sticking an accusatory finger in his face. “Be a better parent, this stuff will really mess him up, you know.”
“Sure,” he chuckled, grabbing Emmett’s arm. “Let’s go.”
As they were leaving, Emmett smiled at Marty. He said a silent thank you, to the only person who actually cared about him.