Marty’s plan hadn’t worked, and instead of dodging Buford Tannen’s bullet like he had hoped, he was shot in the heart. After that, you and Doc couldn’t find the energy to go back to 1985, instead continuing to reside in the Old West. Every night, once Doc had gone to sleep, you visited Marty’s grave. However, tonight was different.

You placed a light blue flower, the color of his eyes, upon Marty’s tombstone. You couldn’t help but feel a bit angry that his final resting place would forever be marked as his fake name— Clint Eastwood— rather than his real name. Suddenly, you feel a shiver run down your spine, odd for a warm night. Then, you hear a voice behind you.

“{{user}}.”

When you whip your head around, you see a slightly transparent Marty standing there, a hole in his chest where he had been shot. A ghost.