A/N: Thank you all so much! I am so glad you're enjoying this. I really appreciate hearing your thoughts. I hope you like this chapter.

Chapter 8: Papa Don't Preach

She woke up in her bed. For a second she thought it was a dream before she moved and realized how tender she felt. Definitely real. She stumbled out of bed and headed straight for the shower. How did she get home? And why couldn't she remember it? Darcy wasn't that deep of a sleeper, not when around people she didn't know. Even in the post-sex haze, she should have at least been aware of getting here. It wasn't like he could have driven her back on the motorcycle if she was sleeping.

Darcy got into the shower, still trying to figure it out. There were bruises on her thighs and nail marks on her hips. That was unusual. Men rarely had nails long enough to leave any. She traced them lightly with her fingers, standing under the hot water when it hit her. They didn't use protection.

"Shit!" It turned into the fastest shower Darcy had ever taken. "Motherfucking shit!" She had been so wrapped up in the man, in his stupid fucking praise and mad fine skills that she didn't even think. She was an idiot.

How could she forget about something so fucking important? She could practically hear her sister telling her she was stupid, her mother's sigh of disappointment and the way her father would say it was typical. She shouldn't have expected the man to be prepared or to actually take responsibility.

It took a few moments before she remembered the fact that Planned Parenthood existed. She thanked whatever higher power was out there that she hadn't been sent back to somewhere before it was formed. The phonebook was buried in one of the drawers of the nightstand, next to the bible she had tossed in haphazardly. She didn't expect to need either.

It didn't take too long to find the entry. San Jose. The same place as the concert that made her fucking lower her guard and get herself into this mess. She should have just gone home. She should have listened to her instincts and told the men to shove it...more than she already did.

Cursing the rotary phone for how long it took to dial, she sat on the bed, still dripping and wrapped in the scratchy motel towel, with the earpiece held between her shoulder and head. It felt like forever before someone finally answered.

"Hello, Planned Parenthood?"

"Hi, um, do you guys have walk-in services?"

There was a pause. "We do. What service are you looking for?"

"I need an STD test. How much is that going to cost?" Darcy tried to quell the panic that she felt growing in the base of her throat.

"We have a sliding scale. You'll need your ID-"

"I don't have it," she said quickly. There was silence from the other end and she thought quickly of an excuse. "My boyfriend, he...he doesn't let me keep it."

There was another beat of silence before the woman on the other end spoke, her tone slightly softer than before. "Of course. It's mainly to qualify for free services but it's not required. And for your safety, we can arrange something like that you call us to get your results instead of a call or letter from us."

There was a slight release of pressure and Darcy sighed. "Thank you."

"Of course, honey. You get yourself here, we'll help you out. We also have resources available, but we can cover that when you're here."

She didn't know what type of resources she'd need. Darcy might know more about what STDs are out there than the general public just from the internet. "Thanks. I'll...I'll get there as soon as I can." She hung up.

So fucking stupid.

Darcy had money saved. She made a call to Sampson saying she was sick and unable to open the store. He told her not to worry about it, to open it when she was better and that he'd check on it in the meantime. Half the time it felt like she was the owner and him the employee. She had no idea how he managed before she showed up.

She grabbed and hid enough money to hopefully cover the test and a motel if she needed to spend the night. She might stay a night regardless of whether or not it was needed. Darcy needed a break from the men following her around at night. She needed space to breathe and the last time she had intended that...well, it led her to where she was now.

It wasn't hard to catch a bus out to San Jose. The drive felt like it took hours instead of the one and a half that she had been told it would. It took another 20 minutes to find the place.

She was still mentally cursing herself as she walked in. She felt like a kid again, ashamed for not thinking something through that wasn't entirely her fault. The woman at the desk was kind, gave her some forms to fill out and told her to wait. Darcy sat back in the plastic chair available and tried to distract herself by coming up with realistic-sounding information for the sheets.

The entire thing took about an hour, including having a woman offer her birth control so she wouldn't be baby-trapped, thank god for her implant, and try to give her ways that she could leave the imaginary boyfriend who held her ID. Eventually, Darcy just took the info so she could get out of there without any more fuss.

San Jose wasn't that exciting of a town in the daylight. Part of her wanted to just go back to the motel she found and crash. Possibly hole up with some junk food and pray that she hadn't caught chlamydia or something. Did the treatments for sexually transmitted infections change over the decades? God, what if it didn't work? What if she had something that she knew could be fixed but they didn't yet. This problem had never occurred to her when she thought about time travel. You never think, Darcy. She shoved that thought down. It wasn't true, but it fucking felt like it now. Fuck it. She stopped wandering around and found a place to grab a burger. She'd hit up a store on the way back to the motel, nicer than the one in Santa Carla, and not come out until sunrise. Maybe then she'd feel a bit more like herself.

Eighties TV did not provide the distraction she was looking for. Especially since channel surfing was such a tedious thing to do. She missed Netflix. Now that she was alone and the panic of the morning had faded with getting the test done, she was able to actually think about the other night.

She sat outside the motel room, sitting on the stoop and smoking. No matter what the laws were, she couldn't bring herself to smoke indoors. You're ours and we're yours. That was what Dwayne said before all fucking sense left her and she got on that bike.

"Makes no fucking sense," she muttered, flicking the ashes off of her cigarette. People didn't want her. She learned that a long time ago. At best they seemed to tolerate her or keep her around because she had something that they wanted. Her own family didn't even like her and that was fine. She stopped giving a shit a long time ago. But now she had potential psychopaths following her around, telling her she belonged with them...and they were really attractive, even with their stupid hair. Dwayne had even a chance to murder her last night and instead he gave her funnel cake and ate her out before they had sex. He kept using the term we too.

Not that that really surprised her with the way David has kissed her in the store, or the way they all seemed to flirt, but this was new fucking territory.

She took another drag, staring out at the passing cars on the road. He said they'd give her everything. Darcy just didn't know how she could trust it. She didn't know if she wanted it. The memory of Dwayne between her thighs sprung to mind and she shifted in place. That was a lie. She wanted everything they offered, she just didn't trust it. Not without some sort of catch.

She smothered the tip of the cigarette into the ground and stood up. She didn't need this. She was going to get these stupid test results, murder Dwayne if he actually gave her anything, and then tell the rest of them to fuck off. She was better off alone.

She went back to Santa Carla the next day.

A quick call to Sampson letting him know she was fine and Darcy was back to opening the store. She fell back into the routine of checking the donation bin, throwing things in the wash and helping the few customers that did walk in.

Clark appeared as usual but Darcy stopped what she was doing as soon as she saw him.

"What the hell happened to you?"

He shifted in place. On the side of his face was a large bruise that almost looked as though he had been shoved into something. She was gone for one whole day. If the Surf Nazis actually harmed the kid, she was going to ensure they all drowned the next time they were chasing waves.

"Clark? What the fuck happened?"

"They were looking for you," he said. His hand brushed his cheek when he went to push his hair back and she caught the wince.

"Who?"

He stepped back at her tone. "The guys from the other day. The Lost Boys."

She leaned forward, watching him carefully. "They hurt you?" She asked softly.

"He was just looking for you. Said they couldn't find you."

Darcy tried to calm down so she didn't scare him. "Which one?" Clark shifted again, looking like he was about to run out of the store so he didn't have to answer her. "Clark. Who was it?"

"The leader. With the white hair."

Forget Dwayne. Darcy was going to murder David first. Painfully. She wasn't going to have to worry about showing up on those missing posters because she was going to put them there first.

Stewing in her anger, she didn't see Clark leave. She was half tempted to go and find them immediately but she had no idea where. It was fine. They'd find her eventually and she'd deal with them then. In the meantime, she'd plan.

She closed the shop before sundown. She didn't want them to find her there in case she ended up murdering him. Cleaning that much blood would be hell, or so she imagined. Really, she just wasn't able to concentrate and felt so strung up from the previous day and the news that Clark had been hurt.

It had been one day. If she hadn't made the decision to tell them to fuck off before, it was cemented now. This was why cellphones were necessary. Then again, they probably would have found her in San Jose if she had one. That left her with one option in her opinion.

She went to the boardwalk.

They didn't appear until the sun went down. She heard the motorcycles first and the sounds of people diving out of the way. It wasn't hard to blend into the crowd once she wrapped her hair with a scarf she borrowed from the shop. People gave her a wide berth as she walked up behind the men who seemed to be scanning the crowd.

They didn't notice. She pulled out the same knife she had used to cut the brake line of that asshole's car and slashed the tires of each of the motorcycles. They were so certain that no one would touch their bikes, they didn't have a single precaution for them. The sound of the people screaming on the rides of the boardwalk hid the air whooshing out.

Some of the people around who saw her stared in shock. She closed the knife, slipped it back into her pocket before adjusting the grip on the bat she had brought with her. She moved forward until she was nearly right behind them, lifted it and slammed it down on David's back. She was aiming for his head.

He stumbled forward before turning with a snarl until he saw her. He straightened and she ignored the calls of her name from the others. She lifted the bat again and slammed it across his face. This time she didn't miss. The cigarette fell from his lips. He didn't look angry though. Instead, he looked pleased.

"You motherfucker!"

He wiped his bleeding lip and smirked at her. "Where you been, Darcy?"

"Don't fucking Darcy me!" she snarled, pointing the bat at him. "Why the fuck did you hurt Clark?"

"You were gone, babe," one of the others said. "We were worried."

"Bullshit." That seemed to make David drop the amusement on his face. "That doesn't give any of you a fucking excuse to hurt a kid." She looked over at all of them, ignoring the way people were staring. "I don't know who the fuck you assholes think you are, but I'm done. You ever touch Clark again, I'll beat your fucking head in until your brains are fish food, got it?"

David nearly snarled, moving forward faster than she expected and grabbed her arm that held the bat. His grip was firm but tight. "Your friend wouldn't tell us where you were," he said.

"Let go," she warned, ready to shove her fingers into his eyes if she had to.

He leaned down, staring at her intently. "Where were you, Darcy?" Where were you? The sounds of the boardwalk faded around her and she dropped the bat.

"San Jose." She didn't know why she said that.

"What were you doing in San Jose?" his voice was low. Tell me.

She scowled. "I had an appointment at the clinic and I needed space. Because I fucked your friend and -" his grip on her arm tightened slightly and pain cut through the haze. The sounds came rushing back.

She shoved David back but he didn't move, glaring down at her. She grabbed the knife from her back pocket, pressed it open and pressed the blade under David's chin. His eyes shone. "Let go or I will slice your fucking throat."

"Okay!" She heard Paul say before she was suddenly picked up and thrown over someone's shoulder. The momentum caused her to drop the knife. At the same time, David released her and she saw Marko standing in front of him, hand on his chest.

"Let me fucking go!" She snarled.

"Hold on, wildcat. Let's talk." Paul was running, holding her in place. People were staring as they passed, talking amongst each other.

She reached up as best she could and grabbed his hair before yanking it back.

"Ow! Fuck! Not the hair!"

"Put me the fuck down, Paul!" She tried to kick him but the man was surprisingly maneuverable and seemed to dodge every attempt she made while still running.

Finally, he stopped. He placed her gently down before rubbing the back of his head where she pulled his hair.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, eyes glancing down her body.

"Who? David? I'm fine. He won't be though if I ever catch up to him again." She glared at Paul. He had taken her away just when she was going to start getting her point across.

"Dwayne. Did he hurt you?" He seemed abnormally serious from how she knew him.

She stared at him for a moment, the anger starting to fade now that she wasn't actually looking at her prime target and was faced with this odd sincerity. "No. It was..." she cut herself off. Regardless of this we business that Dwayne spoke about, Paul didn't need to know that the sex was amazing.

"We didn't mean to hurt the kid," he said suddenly. "We couldn't find you and Dwayne took off to see...family. We wanted to make sure you were okay."

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. "That doesn't make it right. I don't give a shit that you were worried. Clark has a bruise the size of his face on his actual fucking face. You don't do that." Darcy looked around, trying to see where he had actually taken her. They were on the beach. Of course they were. She still had sand in her hair from that night with Dwayne. At this rate, she was never getting sand out of her clothes again. "I'm not doing this anymore, Paul. I meant it when I said I'm done."

"Why?" he asked, pulling something out from one of his pockets. It looked a bit like a cigarette until he actually lit it. "Because you slept with Dwayne? He that bad?"

"He's not-" she cut herself off again. "No. It was great bu-"

"Then what?" He offered her the joint. She took it automatically. It wouldn't be the first time and probably not the last if she was honest with herself. She just didn't like to get too wasted on anything. She had enough problems with her anger already.

She inhaled and held it before passing it back to him. She exhaled slowly as she tried to figure out how to explain it. "I don't understand this," she shoved her hands into her pockets.

"Not that hard to understand, babe." He took another hit and offered it to her. She waved him off. "We want you."

"Why?" she couldn't stop herself from asking. "I'm nothing fucking special, Paul. There's a bunch of other fucking women on that boardwalk who'd be happy to lay at your feet. I don't need you acting like you want me to just pull the rug out from under me when you decide you're done. I'm not here for your shits and giggles."

"They did a real fucking number on you," he muttered before taking another toke of the joint. Before she could even ask what he meant, he continued. "We don't want them. You think any of those bitches would have taken a bat to David's head?" he grinned at her. "That was sexy."

"What is it with this we business?" She snapped. "I'm not going to be fucking passed around like meat for whoever's interested."

He frowned at her. "That what you think?"

"I don't know what I think!" She felt like raising her arms to the sky and dropping them in exasperation. "I've never...I don't understand, Paul. What do you want from me?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want to give, however you want to give it." He leaned down slightly to look her in the eyes. "We want you, Darcy. You just gotta decide if you want us. We can share." He gave her a wink before taking another hit of the joint. He seemed content to let it lie, not looking at her and pressing for more. It was the first time one of them actually said they wanted her. Dwayne had just stated it like ownership.

"I went to the clinic," she said suddenly. He looked at her and just waited. "Dwayne and I...we didn't use any protection. I got tested for STDs."

He snorted and she scowled at him automatically. He held up his hands fast in defence. "Not laughing at you," he said. "Just...we don't have anything."

"That you know of," she retorted. "Things show up differently between men and women. It was a stupid thing to not make sure he wore a fucking condom. I'll be lucky if the tests come back negative."

"They will," Paul gave a shrug. "You wanted to be safe. It's a smart move. We'll do better from now on. Just don't fucking take off without telling anyone."

"You're awfully fucking confident that I'm going to choose you."

"Maybe I'm the time traveller," he grinned at her. He reached out, fingers waggling. "Want to know your future?"

She shoved his hand down, away from her. "God no. All I care about the future is that it's better than the past."

"It will be, Darcy, girl. I guaran-fucking-tee it."

Paul walked her back to the motel. He seemed adamant that she not be left alone and he laughed as she cursed while she tried to get sand out of her shoes. She was going to dump an entire bucket on his head next time he wasn't looking. He kissed her quickly before darting back as she swiped at him.

"Gotta know what you're gonna miss," he teased.

End notes: be sure to check out plannedparenthood ./org