"Plutonium Doc, all we need is plutonium." Marty interrupts the conversation. Doc looks at them, "I'm sure that in 1985 plutonium is available in any drug store. But in 1955, it's a little hard to come by." He sighs, "Marty, Darleen...I'm afraid you're stuck here." Darleen shook her head, "Doc, we can't be stuck here! We have lives in 1985, we've gotta get back to them! Marty has a girlfriend Doc!" She exclaims.

"Oh, so you aren't Marty's significant other?" Marty's face flushes at Doc's words—Darleen shakes her head—far too frustrated to realize his words. "Show him Marty." She nudges his shoulder, Marty grabs his wallet before pulling a picture of Jennifer—his girlfriend—out of his pocket before showing it to Doc, "She's not bad—but she isn't on the same level as Darleen." Doc says, whispering the last part to Marty, making the teen clear his throat, "Not bad? She's great Doc, and she's crazy about me. Look at what she wrote, it's poetry!"

He pulls out the clock tower flyer which has "I love you" written on it in nice handwriting. Darleen bites her lip from awkwardness—kind of wishing she hadn't mentioned Marty's girlfriend. Doc looks at the flyer, "Doc, you're our only hope! I know—we know—that you can figure something out! You never let us down in the past." Doc looks at Marty, "You mean the future." Marty nods, "Right—and you've always told me, if you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything."

"I said that? Say that's pretty good advice." Doc sighs. "I'm sorry you two. But 1.21 gigawatts is too much power. Do you realize how much power that is?  The only power source capable of triggering that kind of energy is a bolt of lightning." Marty's eyes light up as he thinks of an idea, "What did you say?" Doc looks at him, "A bolt of lightning. Unfortunately, you never know when or where lightning will strike." Marty looks at Darleen, "We do now!"

Marty turns over the note Jennifer gave him, it shows the clock tower—he shows it to Doc. The headline says, "CLOCK TOWER STRUCK BY LIGHTNING, STOPPED AT 10:04." The date is Sunday, November 13, 1955. Doc snaps his fingers—an idea coming to him. "This is it! This is the answer. According to this, lightning is going to strike the clock tower at precisely 10:04 p.m. next Saturday night! If we could somehow harness the power of lightning—channel it into the flux capacitor—it might just work!" He looks at a portrait of Ben Franklin.

"What do you think of that Ben? Harness lightning? If you could do it—so can I! It's brilliant!" He looks at the two teens with a smile, "Next Saturday night, we're sending you two back to the future!" Marty and Darleen are both delighted, "You know, spending a week in 1955 won't be so bad. Maybe you could show us around Doc." Darleen says. Doc shakes his head instantly, "That's completely out of the question Darleen. Both of you are staying here in this house. You can't see anybody or talk to anybody. Anything you both do could have serious repercussions in the future. You understand?"

Marty scratched the back of his neck, "Uh...sure." Darleen nods—a tight lipped smile on her face. Doc's eyes narrow, "Who else did you two interact with today besides me?" Marty looks at Darleen, "Well—nobody—really. We just sort of—bumped into my parents.." Doc looks at Darleen, "I haven't seen either of my parents." Doc rubs his temples, "Great Scott! Let me see that picture of your brother again Marty." The teen pulled the photo out.

Doc looks at the picture more closely—his expression becomes grim. "What's the problem?" Marty asks. "It's happened. This proves my theory—look at your brother." Doc points at Marty's brother. Dave has no head in the picture, "His head's gone, like it's been erased." Marty says. Darleen looks at the picture also, "Jeez." She muttered under her breath. "Erased from existence..." Doc says.

——

Marty stands in his underwear in front of a mirror—his hair slicked down in proper conservative 50's fashion. Doc hands him a magazine of 50's fashion. As Marty puts on the clothes—the tags are still on—the boxes the clothing had come in scattered around the room. In the other room, Darleen had tried on a dress that Doc had gotten—not specifically for her. The dress was...okay. It wasn't as fitting to her figure as she wanted—so she improvised.

"Hey Doc." She said as she opened the door just a crack to stick her head through. He hummed in response, "May I see those pants and that shirt?" She pointed to a pair of plain grey pants and a button up white shirt that was on the floor. Doc furrowed his brows before doing as she said and handed her the shirt and pants. Slipping back into the room, she took the dress off quickly, slipping the pants on easily before putting the shirt on. Buttoning up the shirt—not all the way so she was comfortable—she tucked in the shirt and the outfit was perfect.

Putting on the shoes that Doc had gotten her—since it was kind of hard to find a size 10 in women's—she took one look in the mirror—she had washed off her makeup and her hair had been brushed out. She opened the door, seeing Marty dressed in an outfit that was similar to hers. Marty took in her appearance and blushed slightly. Doc looked at Darleen, "What happened to the dress?" Darleen shook her head, "It was too...bleh." Doc sighed as he looked at the pair.

Marty looked back into the mirror, "Are you sure that this is necessary Doc, it's pretty heavy." Doc nodded, "Weight has nothing to do with it. It's a simple genetic-mathematical extrapolation. It was your father who was supposed to get hit by the car, not you. Thus, you interfered in your parents meeting—and you Darleen have a bigger part in this also. If your parents don't meet Marty, they don't fall in love, they won't get married, they won't have any kids. That's why your brother's disappearing from that photograph—he's first since he's oldest. Your sister will follow—and unless you can repair the damage—you'll be next."

Darleen gulped as she looked at Marty—he had a confused but scared look on his face. "But—why do we gotta go to school?" Doc looked at him with a stern look, "You're both kids—kids go to school. You interfered with your parent's relationship, therefore—you and Darleen will go to school and fix it." Marty took one last look in the mirror and slicked his hair back, "Well if I'm gonna wear a disguise, I'm gonna at least look like Elvis." Darleen rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, "What's Elvis?" Doc asked. Darleen looked at him, "You'll find out."