Work Text:
It was a cold but clear day in Hill Valley. The sun was casting a warm light over the expanding evening, with a silvery full moon steadily taking its place in the winter sky.
The ceremony was simple but sweet. The reverend who was in town for the upcoming Christmas officiated the wedding while a handful of guests crowded into Clara's cabin. Chester the bartender, and the McFlys were positioned on the groom’s side. Clara invited her aunt who was living in San Francisco, but the old woman couldn’t come due to her deteriorating health. Instead, she sent hearty congratulations with a postcard —attached was a generous twenty-dollar bill— and invited the couple to the city for Christmas.
In the absence of a family member to help with the wedding, Ruth and Daisy, teenage sisters whom Clara taught how to read, offered their assistance. They helped Clara refashion an ivory wool muslin dress of hers into a beautiful bridal gown and took their place as her bridesmaids on the wedding day.
The bride carried a purple pansy bouquet as she walked into the living room where the guests and the groom were gathered. As soon as he saw Clara, Emmett unleashed a huge grin of utter joy, just like the time on that train when Clara told —yelled— her love for him.
After the reverend pronounced the words that officiated the union, the newlyweds and their guests spilled outside to pose for Mr. Cundey’s camera. As their eyes slowly regained vision after momentary blindness caused by the camera’s flash, they found Marshal Strickland on his horse, holding a shotgun in one hand and two mallards in the other.
“My best wishes to the bride and the groom,” he announced and rose the mallards towards Emmett.
“Blacksmith, accept these as my wedding gift. May Lord bless you and your union!”
Marshal dropped the gifts into Emmett’s arms rather suddenly and almost caused him to tumble over with the excessive weight. Emmett found his balance a moment later and thanked Marshal with a hesitant smile.
Everybody in town knew that the marshal was holding doubts about the blacksmith and his possible involvement with the train accident three months ago. He and his deputy carried out an intensive investigation and grilled Emmett about the crash, as well as about the sudden disappearance of the blacksmith’s associate, Mr. Eastwood. In the absence of any actual evidence but a questionable testimony by the train operator who later confessed to drinking alcohol that day, Strickland had to leave this mystery to be unsolved.
Mr. Eastwood was presumed dead. In the honor of this young man who defeated Buford Tannen the same day he plunged to his death, the town council decided to give his name to the ravine.
Emmett Brown’s acquittal did not stop theories about what happened to Mr.Eastwood for some time. Some assumed that he was killed for money, while others assumed he was hurt during an experiment of the blacksmith which went wrong. Although the marshal and a couple of others have dwelt on these theories, eventually, common sense prevailed.
Despite the short time he had spent in Hill Valley, Emmett Brown impressed the townspeople with his hard work and desire for new ideas. Sure, there were times he would blabber on about an idea that was too strange to even come up with —Run for fun? What the hell kind of fun is that?— but they accepted him with all his eccentricities.
And in the case of Clara, the process of warming up to the new school teacher was even easier for the Hill Valley residents. Clara was conscientious and trying her best to overcome the lack of supplies of a one-room schoolhouse with her wit and good spirits. Students and parents welcomed her with open arms.
That’s why, in the honor of the bride and the groom, their close friends set up a small gathering in the Palace Saloon to celebrate their wedding.
Chester knew that his saloon was not an ideal place, but it was the only place large enough to accommodate everyone comfortably. Most of the regulars were not attending close to Christmas anyway, so with some help from the cook and his assistant, he set a table in an alcove next to the kitchen which was a little more private than the rest of the place.
The sun had set a little ago, leaving a beautiful pink glow behind when they arrived at the town square. Marshal Strickland decided to join the wedding party and was jabbering with Seamus McFly outside the saloon about something that made them both laugh. Ruth and Daisy offered to babysit for the evening so Maggie could join the others and enjoy an evening out.
Clara looked around for Emmett but couldn’t see him nearby. She excused herself from the group and went inside. Chester was right, the saloon was empty during Christmas time. The only people around were Joey, Chester’s assistant, and a friend of his, who seemed to be too young to hang around at bars.
Clara entered the saloon in careful steps and approached the young assistant.
"Excuse me, have you seen Mr. Brown?" she asked with a bit of shyness in her voice.
Joey gestured wordlessly towards the back where warm smells of food were coming from.
Clara nodded, then headed for the direction. She caught Chester out of the corner of her eye as she was passing from the alcove. The bartender was adding some finishing touches to the table which was already adorned beautifully.
Clara stopped beside him. "Thank you, Mr. Clark for hosting this dinner. That means a great deal to me and Emmett," she said smilingly.
"Ah...Miss Clayton, umm, Mis'ess Clayton, argh, Brown," the bartender struggled to address Clara, paused for a second, and closed his eyes to organize his words.
“I’m glad I could help," he responded.
“Have you seen him by any chance?” Clara asked.
“Emmett went up on the roof,” he replied, in an almost nonchalant manner.
Clara’s eyes widened.
“Golly! What’s he doing up there?”
“Don’t know,” Chester shrugged, then turned away to adjust something at the table.
“You can go up there by taking the stairs. They are right after you pass through the back door,” he said.
Clara shook her head, feeling a little abashed, and gave a strained smile before heading for the door.
She found Emmett on the roof, sitting on a parapet wall and looking out to the view where the still pinkish horizon meets the railroad. It was hard to read his facial expression from where she stood, but the overall energy around him was electric, anticipating.
Clara stepped silently next to him and patted his arm gently. Emmett looked over his shoulder at Clara, and as he did, his face was illuminated with joy.
“Clara!” he exclaimed cheerfully, scooted over a little, and patted the space next to him.
“Come sit next to me. If my calculations are correct, we are going to see some serio—”
“Emmett, what are you doing here?” Clara asked frustrated, releasing a puff of breath into the cold air as she spoke.
“Oh, It's got cold here, isn’t it?” Emmett stood up, put his jacket around her, and rubbed his hands up and down her arms.
Clara’s expression started to soften as she was feeling a sudden warmth passing through her.
“Clara,” Emmett paused and cocked his head to look at his wife.
“I’m waiting for Marty. I climbed up here to better survey the landscape,” he said, his eyes wide.
Clara stared at him incredulously.
“How can you know that Marty’s coming?” She asked.
“Well, I don’t know for sure, of course,” Emmett said timidly, all of a sudden, doubtful of his plan.
“But I gave him all the information he needs,” he mumbled.
He gave a gentle squeeze on Clara’s shoulders before turning back to look over the view. The night was announcing its arrival with bright stars blanketing the hills of Hill Valley, and the full moon sitting nicely in the soft sky.
Clara stared at his husband’s back and frowned in confusion, but then her face lightened up as if she remembered something.
“That’s why you were asking Mr.Cundey to be precise with the records,” she said and began reciting his own words back to him:
“Clara May Clayton and Emmett Lathrop Brown were married December 15, 1885, at 2:26 pm. Reverend Harry Applewood officiated the wedding at Ms. Clayton’s house. Seamus and Maggie McFly, Chester Clark, Ruth and Daisy Cody attended the wedding. The wedding dinner was served at the Palace Saloon in Hill Valley, California.”
Emmett turned his head towards her and nodded. Clara caught a glimpse of embarrassment in his eyes. She approached him, took his hand in hers, and watched his sullen face. Emmett was averting his eyes but if he wasn’t, he could have seen that Clara’s gaze was sympathetic and solicitous.
After Clara met Emmett, and they began their relationship, the discovery of their common fascination with science seemed to her a great solace after several disappointing introductions to other gentlemen who showed little or no interest in her likings at all.
Emmett was a kindred soul who saved her figuratively and literally, but still, he was a scientist and a man out of his time. In his time, he had all space-time continuum at his feet. He also had a loyal friend who supported and guided him across different eras of his life. It dawned on Clara that losing Marty should have caused him a lot of pain. She wanted to console her husband but wasn’t sure how to begin.
“Well,” Clara said, trying to catch his gaze. “Maybe he got late. Or, he must have found out that they named the ravine after him, so he decided not to complicate things further. You were the one to warn him about the dangers of disrupting the space-time continuum, weren’t you? So maybe he simply listened to you.”
Without saying anything, Emmett took her hand to his lips to place a kiss on it. He gave her a forced smile in an attempt to hide some feelings that were simmering beneath the surface.
Clara caressed his cheek, and he could not resist the urge to nuzzle into her palm. He shot his eyes closed and stayed there for a moment.
“There is something else,” Clara said softly and Emmett opened his eyes to look at her.
“What is it, Emmett?”
Emmett gestured his head at her to sit together on the parapet wall.
“It’s a part of a bigger story, and someday I’m going to tell you all of it. But for now, I think you should hear this: In the future, I stumbled across Marty's home. His future home that is. And I heard that he will have an accident that will ruin all his dreams. That day in the future, I saw this—” he said and reached into his pocket. He pulled a crumpled paper and straightened on the cold, flat surface.
It was a simple, blank paper.
Clara blinked at him. “I don’t understand,” she said.
“The day I got this paper, the words “You’re Fired” were written on it. Marty, the future Marty, was fired from his job that day.”
“That’s terrible!”
“But, now it has vanished!”
Emmett jerked up in a sharp motion. He started pacing back and forth on the flat roof. His head was down, weighted by thoughts.
“I warned him about his temper that led to the accident but it wasn't enough,” he mumbled to himself. “He told me about the future. He saved my life. I should have told him about the accident. What if something terrible, more terrible than the accident happened to him? What if he’s dead and that’s why the words disappeared?”
Clara studied him across where she sat. When he glanced up and looked at her, she felt sad. In the same way, Emmett felt responsible for protecting Marty’s future, she felt responsible for his sorrow, for climbing up to that train and disturbing their original plan to go back to 1985. But she was in love, and how could she know?
Nobody can see into their future.
Well, her husband can. At least he could. For a while.
A “hmm,” escaped from Clara’s mouth, which suggested that she reached a different conclusion than him.
“Emmett, I understand your dilemma with this. Believe me, I really do. On one side you wanted to protect your friend and on the other side, the whole space-time continuum was at stake. While I can not explain the disappearance of the words on that paper, I believe you’d done the most that you could do to protect Marty.”
Clara stood up, and moved towards him, looking at him fondly.
“You can not be there for Marty every time he makes a decision where its consequences might be undesirable. I think you must trust his abilities to write his own future,” she said faintly.
“Also, Marty can not be there to give you assurance about your actions all the time. I believe you feeling like this on our wedding day is not a coincidence. It’s a big milestone and unlike the time you built the time machine, you don’t have a Marty to ensure that it will work. So Emmett, maybe you can trust your abilities to write your own future too.”
Something inside Emmett has shifted as he was watching and listening to Clara in silence. Slowly his guilt and sorrow began to drift away and another, more clear feeling has settled instead. He didn’t have a name for it. But he wanted to have it as long as he possibly could.
Clara was right. The future isn’t written. It can be changed. It has already changed for him. As amazing as it could be.
Looking at Clara’s deep hazel eyes and pert nose that got pinkish on its tip, it is certainly beyond his grasp how he was able to feel that much for her, as a man who always assumed himself to be “a man of logic.”
Emmett smiled at her. He dropped a kiss tenderly on the pink tip of her nose, and then on her lips.
“Come on Clara,” he offered his hand, and she took it.
“Our future is waiting for us. And I promise you, I will make it a good one.”