Just like every other time Marty has seen his father since the situation with Doc had begun, George greets him with a smile and voice that oozes fondness. And just like every other time, it untwists something deep in Marty’s chest that twists itself into knots every time his father leaves.
In between their visits Marty can’t help but worry that his mother will finally turn George against him and Doc, but each time he sees his dad he knows she hasn’t succeeded- and manages to doubt that she ever will.
“Hey kiddo,” George greets, and Marty feels his lips spread into a grin.
“Hi dad,” he answers. His gaze flicks to the side, toward the entrance to the yard, and then shifts back to his dad. Marty clears his throat and takes a half step back. “Do you want to come in?”
Surprise flashes across George’s face, but it’s quickly overshadowed by joy. He grins, warm and wide, and nods.
“I’d love to.”
Stuffing his nerves firmly down, Marty waves his dad through and swings the door shut hastily behind them. George follows him to the kitchen, and while Marty beelines for the coffeemaker George takes a seat at the kitchen table, across from Doc.
“Good morning Doc,” he says, and something relaxes in Marty’s chest again.
His dad won’t do anything to hurt him- either of them. He’s here because he understands.
“Good morning,” Doc replies easily. “How are you?”
“Can’t complain,” George shrugs wryly, and Doc chuckles.
“No, I’d imagine not.”
“We’re going to talk in the living room,” Marty says then, holding a mug out to his dad as he reaches the table. George takes it with a mumbled thank you. “If you need me-“
“I can survive without you,” Doc interrupts playfully. “For an hour or two.”
Marty grins and leans down, smacking a kiss onto the top of his head, and then he turns and gestures for his dad to follow him.
Once they’re settled on the couch with their drinks, Marty forces himself to hold his father’s gaze. He’s still not entirely sure he wants to hear his mother’s side of things, but he figures he owes her at least that before cutting her off completely.
Even the thought makes his heart throb in protest.
“Alright,” he says quietly. “You wanted to talk about mom?”
“I do,” George agrees. “But are you ready to hear it?”
“I don’t know,” Marty admits. His gaze falls, lingering on a thread in his jeans. “I think so. I’ll do my best to listen and stay calm. That’s the best I can do.”
“That’s all I ask,” George promises. “I’m not expecting you to run back to your mother with open arms, son. I know this situation is more complicated than that.”
“Okay,” Marty says, and it’s a relief to hear his father say those words. Some part of him had worried that George had expected this talk to change something between Marty and Lorraine, and there’s too much between them right now for one talk to change anything.
And Marty does his best to remain calm while his dad talks. George politely doesn’t comment on the way Marty’s fingers flex around his mug of tea, or the tight set of his jaw, and his voice stays calm and even all the while.
“- try to understand this from a parent’s point of view,” George finally says, and Marty can’t help the slightly accusatory tone in his voice when he replies.
“Why should I try to see it from her perspective if she won’t see it from mine?”
“She probably does, son,” he reasons, and Marty snorts. “You think you’re the first person to have a crush on someone older than you?”
“Well, no,” he admits grudgingly.
“Before anything else, you’re our son. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the young man you are now from the baby we held in our arms,”
George says, and Marty guiltily looks away. “I won’t lie to you Marty, I haven’t had much luck talking to your mother about this. She doesn’t like it. She’s not happy, and she wants you to come home-“
“I’m not coming home!” Marty snaps fiercely, and George holds his free hand up in surrender.
“I know,” he soothes, and Marty relaxes back into the couch and sighs.
“I’m sorry.”
“All your mom can see is a predator. She doesn’t see what the relationship was before- and to a point I understand, because sometimes I struggle too. But the difference between us is that you’re giving me a chance to see otherwise. Don’t you think your mother deserves that chance too?”
“There’s a big difference here dad,” Marty insists, struggling to keep his voice even. “I trust you- because you proved that I could. You heard me out- you let me explain, and you’ve been honest with me.
Mom hasn’t done any of that. For all I know she’s going to call the police on Doc the next time she has her eyes on him. I’m not saying you guys can’t have concerns about the choices I make with my life, but calling Doc a pedophile isn’t fair.
I pursued him. I went after him. I had no idea he had any kind of feelings for me aside from platonic until after I crossed that line. He would never do anything to hurt me, and I know that our relationship is…. different… and I know not everyone is going to get it and not everyone is going to accept it.
I can’t control that, but what I can control is the people I keep close to me, and I’m sorry dad but I’m not going to keep someone in my life that thinks something that vile about the man I’ve chosen to spend my life with. It’s me and Emmett, it’s /our/ life, that we’re going to build together. If mom can’t accept that, then I’m sorry but she can’t be in my life.”
George studies him for a moment, and Marty does his best to hold his father’s gaze. Finally, after a silence that lasted long enough to have Marty’s heart pounding with nerves, George nods his head once to acknowledge Marty’s statement.
“I understand,” he says softly. “But all I’m asking Marty, is that you give your mother the chance to understand too. Let her learn how wrong she is. She won’t be able to see it if you cut her off.”
“Dad-“ he starts, but sorrow closes his throat.
He doesn’t want to cut his mom off. In spite of everything, he knows he still loves her- but he doesn’t trust her. George reaches forward and gently pats Marty’s knee, and the young boy looks up.
“Sit her down and tell her what you told me. You don’t even have to bring Doc if you don’t want to. It can be the two of you, or I can be there- but I promise you Marty,” George’s hand lifts to gently take his son’s free hand and he squeezes lightly. “I will not let her call the police on Doc. I wouldn’t trick you like that. You know that, right?”
Marty studies his father’s gaze for a second, and then squeezes the hand holding his.
“Yeah. I do,” he admits. George smiles, and Marty looks down at their hands. “You just want me to talk to her?”
“Just lay it all out for her.”
Marty chews his lower lip, contemplating his options for a moment. It doesn’t sound too bad- and his father’s promise is an extra reassurance that his mom can’t trap him or Doc. And honestly, some part of him yearns to defend Doc to her, to tell her how wrong she really is.
Another part of him wants to just call it quits, because the damage has already been done.
Marty swallows thickly and peeks up at his dad through his lashes.
“I’ll do it.”
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