“..i’m here if you need anything, okay?” me screamin cause...... bttf 3 when theyre at docs house at night
caring for stubborn muses. / accepting.
it’s been … a long night. a really, really long night.
( night? day? jennifer’s not sure what to call it, but it feels like she’s lived through a lifetime — or two — in the last couple hours. )
despite the shocking coziness of this version of doc’s couch, jennifer knows the deep exhaustion that’s settled into her bones won’t leave until she gets to lay down in a real bed, preferably her own. which, by the looks of things, doesn’t look like it’s going to be happening any time soon. though it’s been a good hour or so since it happened, her heart’s still pounding hard in her chest from the sight of the delorean ( and their only way to get home ) disappearing in front of their eyes in a literal flash of lightning.
reaching down to fiddle with the hem of her dress, she rubs the now soaked through fabric between her fingers, the water having darkened the bright yellow into a murkier, more muted shade. she’s pretty sure marty went to try to find them something dry to wear, but she’s not feeling very hopeful. grimly, she can’t help a bitter laugh from escaping into the silence. funny how even like this, sitting there completely soaked, there’s still no way in hell she’d have changed back into her previous outfit ( if the dress they’d shoved her in could even be called that ). not that they could’ve — the clothes they’d arrived in had been tucked neatly into the backseat of the delorean for safekeeping.
( the thought is almost funny. almost. )
as she ruffles the water-logged skirt across her lap once more, wincing as the now ice-cold water drips down her leg, she mourns the outfit she’d left home in, her favourite shirt and new pants that she’d literally just bought now lost to some twisted version of their home. she reaches out to run her fingers through a sleeping copernicus’ fur in an attempt to pull her mind somewhere else, but even the dog doesn’t seem to be helping.
the sound of footsteps alerts her of marty’s return. she looks up and, unsurprisingly, is greeted with a guilty smile and hands distinctly not holding dry clothes. they are holding towels, though, at least, and she spares him a small smile as she reaches for one gratefully. she gets to work at soaking up the water from her dress as best as she can, and for a long moment, the two of them sit there in silence, accompanied only by the sound of fabric against fabric and the soft snores of a small dog.
she’s not expecting it when his voice cuts through the silence, and she jumps, swallowing the yelp in her throat before she can accidentally wake up doc or his dog. running a hand through still damp hair, she turns to him with a sigh. she softens at the sight of him, as always, but there’s a stubborn tightness in her chest that doesn’t allow her to show it. not like this. she offers him a tired smile, one that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and one that quickly turns into a grimace as another trickle of water slides down her cheek from her hair. dropping the smile completely, she drags a hand across her face, and nods in his general direction.
❛ i know, ❜ she says, voice grateful but just as equally dripping with exhaustion and a something else she doesn’t quite want to think too hard about. ❛ you always are. ❜ she offers him another, slightly more successful attempt at a smile, before it’s interrupted by a yawn. glancing down at her towel, now almost as soaked through as she still is, she sighs. when she speaks again, her voice is quiet. ❛ i don’t think it’s going to get better than this. we should get some sleep. ❜
