Disclaimer: Still don't own BTTF.

Author's Note: Really fast update. Then again, considering I wrote 2/3rd of the second chapter yesterday... anyway, please review. And enjoy the update, as with school starting and all, I might not get the next one up so soon.

3: Chapter Two

September 7, 1885
06:45 AM PDT

Old Buford Tannen groaned, as he entered the new time period. With every passing minute, flying the car got harder. Of course, the almost-collision with the train over the Eastwood Ravine Bridge hadn't helped, either. Still, the old man figured that it wouldn't have been really easy otherwise.

As he stabilized the car, he took a look at the time circuits. He'd apparently departed 1985 at "DEC 23 1985 11:04 AM" and now he was at "SEP 07 1885 06:45 AM". Just in case he wouldn't have enough energy later, he set his Destination Time: December 23, 1935, 12:46 PM. It was one minute after his departure, and he hoped that those Brown buttheads wouldn't have noticed the absence of the car by then, and naïvely fly it back to 1905.

And when they do that, it'll be my 1905, Buford thought, then suddenly feeling a lot of pain coming from his back. Aw! At least, if I do manage to complete my mission here.

As he flew the DeLorean over to the local lake, he descended carefully. If he remembered right, his younger self and his friends were no more than half a mile from here camped. That shouldn't be too far to walk. After getting himself and his bag out of the car and somehow managing to close the door, he started hobbling the 800 metres.

As he started thinking of the book, his heart started beating faster. He felt happy, as he realized that with help of the history info, his younger self could bail himself free and start a huge empire, as well as get back at the McFly's and the Browns. He had always held his crush on Clara Clayton, the blacksmith's wife, and with him being so rich, he hoped that once he'd gotten home, marrying Clara would be a wish come true.

He groaned, wincing from the pain. The first thing he'd do at home would be using his money to get a healing for his leg. Or would he already have done that in the future? He didn't know and didn't honestly care either.

As he looked around, he realized that he'd walked just a few metres, yet. Refreshing his energy by taking a deep breath, he hobbled faster. He really had to reach his younger self. His age was starting to catch up with him, now, but determination not to lead such an unhappy life again kept him alive. Continuing to hobble, he walked near the lake, anxiously waiting for himself to arrive at the camp. Opening his eyes as wide as he could, he could faintly make out the shadow of a fire, a few hundred yards away. Nervously, he started to head over there. If only… he… would listen to himself… Then again, that was a business he'd deal with on the time being. Happily smiling, he continued hobbling towards the fire.

oooooooo

Clara Clayton blinked, as she opened her eyes and looked at the clock. It was six-fifty… why wasn't she getting up earlier? After all, she did have a school to teach today. If mind served her correct, there was going to be some kind of introduction. Then, suddenly, she noticed remains of tears on her face, and she remembered.

Yesterday evening the love of her life, Emmett Lathrop Brown, had broken up with her. Not only that, but he'd told her really cruel nonsense while at it, about having to go back to 1985, and inventing a time machine. As much as she loved Jules Verne's tales, Clara knew that it was an un-respectful lie. Most likely, Emmett didn't really like Jules Verne either. He'd just looked up that quote of the moon to flirt with her.

As she really felt like staying in bed the entire day, Clara realized she still had to come out. But not go uptown, and just teach class. After all the cruelty that Emmett had done to her, she couldn't do that, not in a million years. Crying, she sat up in bed. Why did this happen to her? Why did all men just think that she was a naïve woman? She'd really loved Emmett those two days, she really had. Why hadn't she realized that he was lying to her all the time? Why…

The schoolteacher almost spit to the ground in disgust, as she realized that she'd actually kissed that betrayer. Every day she'd be reminded of her short but intense love with the man for who she'd actually been nothing but a toy for the time being. She had to get out of Hill Valley, and soon. The town had lied to her. They'd invited her a warm welcome but instead they'd made her being enticed by this…

Clara frowned. After all the scientist… blacksmith, that most likely was a lie too… had done to her, she still couldn't completely hate him. After all, she'd loved Emmett for two full days, she'd had a wonderful evening with him, and last but not least, he'd saved her life. If not for him, she wouldn't have been alive by now. Even if he'd done that because he saw a nice-looking lady and wanted to flirt with her, not really love her, she still couldn't completely disgust him as her mind told her to. He'd been so nice to her… so romantic… so shy yet handsome…

Shaking her head at the untrue thoughts, Clara stepped out of her bed, and headed over to the main room in the cabin. There weren't that much things she'd brought along, and some of them had fallen in the ravine anyway. Luckily, she'd already picked up her telescope the day before, at Emmett's shop, so she wouldn't have to face him anymore. Now all she had to do was pack the stuff that was unpacked, tie it up with the rest of the things, rent a buckboard from Mr. Statler and go the soonest she could to the centre of Hill Valley. There, she'd take a train to wherever the track lead the farthest. Afterwards, she could always write her cancel note to the school. First of all, she wanted to get out of town. After all, there was nothing left for her in lie-town Hill Valley, not anymore.

Sighing, Clara headed over to her small wardrobe, and chose a pink dress to wear for the day, while packing the rest of her clothes in a box. It was 'pack-your-stuff-and-leave-as-soon-as-you-can' day, now.

oooooooo

Marty McFly sighed, as he started to wake up. He'd been asleep for the entire night, and lying on the ground wasn't that easy. His back hurt like hell. If he had known this in the beginning, he'd volunteered to actually sleep in the DeLorean. Anything was better than just here out in the forest. This really was the middle of nowhere, after all. He turned to his pillow…

…only to find no pillow, but his Colt gun. His eyes widened and his heart raced, as he realized what this meant. He'd slept on his gun for the entire night! He could've killed himself! "Oh man" he groaned, as reality sank in. "Did I sleep…" He didn't know whether to laugh, to cry, to scream or to do nothing. This was really heavy.

As he sat up, he groaned again, as he realized today was the big day, the one on which they were going to push up the train to 88. "What time is it, Doc?" he asked, looking across to the other side…

…only to find his friend wasn't there.

Marty's eyes widened. "Doc!" he exclaimed, stumbling to his feet. Looking around, he saw the scientist wasn't there. He didn't… he didn't go to town, did he? Man, Buford Tannen could've killed him! Instinctively, he stared at the photograph he'd brought along from 1955. And he didn't like what he saw.

Mostly, the picture was still blank. But above the ever-remaining date, which was actually today now, a new name was starting to appear, and it wasn't Doc's. Marty's heart beat four times as fast as he read 'Clint Eastwood' was starting to appear. Holy shit, I'm going to get killed! He looked around, seeing Doc's horse wasn't there anymore. I have to find Doc, hijack that stupid train, and get the hell out of here before I'm dead meat!

Heading over to his horse, he suddenly heard the clocks in the DeLorean a few yards away chime. Counting the chimes, Marty was horrified as he noticed there were seven. It was actually 7am, now, and the showdown was according to Buford going to happen at 8, just like the train leaving the station. Man, they really cut those things close. He had no more than sixty minutes to find Doc before they'd either get stuck in 1885 or shot by Mad Dog Tannen.

Swiftly grabbing his gun and bullets, he jumped on his horse. The animal made a few nervous noises, then calmed down so Marty could ride away with it. The teenager, happy having control over the animal, headed over to the first place he could think Doc could possibly be.

Clara Clayton's cabin.