***A/N***: This is sort of like a flashback, but I want you all to see what my Daria was going through when she went through it … not listen to her as she is explaining it to Trent. Pretend that everything you are reading here is something she is trying to explain to him, she is telling him how this all happened, but we are not seeing their conversation. Time travel is fun! Trust me, I'm a Doctor!

Oh and for the most recent anonymous reviewer who threatened to kill me if I didn't update: I was already planning on updating today and this is not in any way being posted because of what you wrote. I'm going to take that as a joke. It made me laugh, and I don't take it seriously. But please understand that this is not my only story that I am working on, and it is not the priority story either. I also shockingly have a life, thought I do try to work on all my stories at least for five minutes at a time each day. I've tried to be fair and update first one story, then the other so technically I am updating something at least once a month. If I worked any faster to pump it out, everything I'd write would be utter crap. Be happy I take the time that I do.

**Daria POV**

Oh Shit- Peachy

February 4th, 2006

I'm tangled up in so many things right now. Work. School. Trent's plans for the tour. The worries of being apart. Our plans for me to join up with him on Spring break and after graduation. But most immediately? Tangled up in sheets. And each other. There's something really … satisfying … about having your guy collapsing on you in the afterglow, both of you so exhausted all you can do is throw you faces into each other's neck, wrap your arms around each other, and not even bother to … um … disconnect.

"I want you to come with me Daria."

"Didn't I just do that a few seconds ago? Give a girl some rest …" I panted, trying to get my breathing back to normal after our workout, looking down at his face resting on my chest.

"Ha ha very funny."

"Well, you know me. I try my hardest to give everyone a good chuckle."

"I'm serious. We just moved in together!"

"It's been more than a year since we moved into together Mr. Keen Observation," I laughed with the most light-hearted sound I had ever heard in my own voice.

"Well it feels like only a few months ago," he actually pouted in an attempt to make me fall for his cute bullshit, "and I don't want to be separated from you again so soon. Especially since this will be for weeks at a time, no regular weekend visits or anything."

"Trent, you know I can't. I'm in the final stretch; I can see the light at the end of the tunnel ... insert another lame analogy here for the end is near. I just have to finish this semester and I'm done."

"So? College will always be here. Take a mini-break to be irresponsible with me. Come back when summer is over and finish up in the fall. You know that the second they hand you that diploma you're just going to start working someplace prestigious that will shove a big stick up your ass."


"Oh, you're right," he sniggered at me, "I'm sorry. They'll have to remove the smaller one you already have first."

"Damn straight," I chuckled as I ruffled his hair, "Actually, I'm thinking of getting my master's degree. I just don't know in what. I envy you and Jane you know. You've always known what you wanted to be. I'm finally a real adult, but I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up."

"So then come with us on the tour. Take a break and use the time to figure it out," he mumbled as he kissed his way down my stomach.

"Yes because being cooped up in a tour bus without air conditioning with a bunch of unwashed musicians and your sister … AGAIN … is really conducive to figuring out what one wants to do with their life."

"Is that just your fancy way of saying 'no'?"

"It's my fancy way of saying 'no thank you'. I was being polite. I could have been much meaner in my evaluation of that possible scenario."

"So all I'm hearing is that I'll have to wait until April to get you for a week, and then I won't see you again till June, because you can't let loose just this once?"

"That's about the sum of it, yeah," I smiled sadly down at him, hoping he would understand.

"So we're having one of those unmovable objects vs. irresistible force moments on this, huh?"

"That's not exactly the way that paradox was meant to be interpreted."

"Whatever, Miss Know-It-All," he faked a scowl as he turned his attention back to my skin and disappeared beneath the sheets.

It's a good thing he didn't ask me to leave school and join him right then, because I would have agreed to anything he asked me. I could just picture trying to explain that to my mother. Somehow, I don't think 'What can I say mom? The boy has a talented mouth' would really go over well.

March 18th, 2006




"Above the chanting audience and the feedback from the performers on stage right now? Sure, clear as a bell."


"Trent, stop yelling and find somewhere away from the noise!"


"Ok, I'll talk to you soon."


"I love you too!"


March 20th, 2006

I tried to focus on my textbook but it was hard with my phone sitting there, right in front of my face, not ringing.

Laughing. It's laughing at me. Stupid phone.

"Damn it Trent, call me before I pass out!"

He should have called by now.

Jane, who did take him up on his suggestion of leaving BFAC for a semester to tool around with them on the festival tour as their quote unquote "manager", was supposed to get him a new cell phone charger today. Mystik Spiral used to play early in the day, as the more un-known bands usually do, but as the tour went on word-of-mouth was spreading and the festival promoters moved the guy's start time to later and later in the day. Which is a good thing for the band, but still they should have been done hours ago.

It was also hard to focus on my school work because Spring Break was just around the corner, thankfully. I was exhausted; it was only nine o'clock and I could barely keep my eyes open.

I've been like that for a couple of weeks actually, and now I'm starting to get achy all over. I hope I'm not getting sick, that's the last thing I need right now.

I waited another hour for Trent to call me before I gave up the ghost and crawled into our cold bed alone.

April 10th, 2006

"You've got the results mixed up doctor. I can't be pregnant," I stated calmly as I tried my best not to crush my tiny cell phone in my hand.

Damn phone is laughing at me again apparently. I hate my phone.

"Let's just take a look here Miss Morgendorffer … you came in two days ago in regards to what you considered to be flu-like symptoms … body aches, fatigue, headaches, and mild nausea … but no respiratory issues … I'm looking over the blood and urine tests right now. You are not sick, the results are positive for pregnancy, and your symptoms are all normal signs of a pregnancy in the early portion of the first trimester. Have you been sexually active?"

"Yes, but never without protection. Every single time we used a condom. I still don't think … I've been feeling a little nauseous, but I've never actually thrown up! Isn't that mandatory for being knocked up?"

"Condoms are not infallible Miss Morgendorffer; there is still a 2% chance of pregnancy with perfect use. They even offer substantial protection when not used correctly, but the risk of pregnancy is greater. As for the nausea, early on vomiting is not common. Some women never vomit throughout the duration of their pregnancy."

A long, nervous silence followed on my part. I sat down, chewed my lip, and tried to think of anything that I could say that would make this doctor realize that they were horribly wrong. I think after 5 minutes of quiet she realized that.

"Look if you really certain that you are not pregnant, let's do the math. When was the first day of your last menstrual cycle?"

"My period started a little earlier that I expected it to in February, the 15th I believe. I skipped in March, but I just thought that was due to external influences."

"External influences?"

"Yes stress over school, work, my relationship, and the concern that I was starting to get sick at the worst possible time. I have missed my period before because of stress. I figured I was going through enough of it to explain that, not to mention that I just got back from traveling in inhumane conditions reserved only for prison inmates and struggling musicians. I never thought I could be …" I trailed off as a nagging acceptance started to wash over me.

"Your menstrual cycle in February, other than beginning sooner than your expected start date, was it unusual in any other way?"

"It was …," Ms. Barch's health classes were suddenly flashing before my eyes, they way I always assumed my life would when I found out eventually that I was dying, "… it was lighter than any other period I'd ever had. Barely lasted two days. Oh shit. It was implantation spotting, wasn't it?"

"It sounds likely. When was the first date of your cycle before the bleeding on February 15th?"

"Hang on," I asked as I flipped through my date book in a panic, "it was January 20th."

"Taking that into account along with the time frame of implantation spotting … looking over the calendar… my rough estimate is that the date of conception falls between February 2nd and February 11th."

"Yep, that sounds about right."

Sounds right because Trent and I barely came up for air the last few weeks before he started the festival tour, which he and the guys left on the 13th to meet up with. God damnit.

"You should make an appointment to come in for a full exam since you seem unsure about these results, and when we confirm them you need to discuss the next steps in caring for yourself. How does 1:30 PM sound tomorrow?"

"Peachy," I droned, lost in a haze of shock and disbelief.

"Alright Miss Morgendorffer, we will see you tomorrow. Have a nice day," her chipper voice, finally cut off, though it continued ringing in my ears long after.

'Have a nice day.' My idea of a nice day is watching the world set itself on fire. Not unexpectedly finding out that I'm a host organism. How can I have a nice day now? How can I tell Trent? What am I going to do?

"Damn it."

May 9th, 2006

"Honey, you've been coming here for a while now," said the receptionist at the window of the clinic.

She must be bored, there's no one else around to talk to. No other reason to speak with me.

"Is that a problem?"

"No sweetie, you come here as often as you want. I only raise the issue because you never ask for help. You just come in, pull out your laptop, and occasionally stare at our informative materials. Day after day. Is there something I can help you with?"

"Unless you've got a book with all the answers in it, I don't think so."

"I see, well, I don't have all the answers, but sometimes it helps to talk to someone to figure them out on your own."

"You want me to tell you, a stranger who has been watching me close enough to know how often I come in here, about my problems? Don't I usually have to order a couple of rounds first before that offer is made barkeep?"

"Oh no, not me. We offer counseling at this facility, to help you make the best choices for you. An impartial ear with experience and education in this department can lay out all the options and help you pick the best ones, whatever your situation might be," she offered warmly.

Well she's right about that, I don't know what to do. I'm almost a month shy of graduating, but my due date is in November so I'll be done by the time this thing is ready to come out. Thing? Baby? I don't even know what I want to call it. Parasite sounds right. It's draining me enough to count as one. Had to quit moonlighting as a stripper because I couldn't stay awake late enough to work. Not to mention working the pole made me want to throw up even more than usual. What about after graduation? Would I be able to handle, not to mention afford, graduate school with a baby?

And what about Trent? My boyfriend of roughly two years is on the road with his band, and surprisingly they are starting to really get a following. He is calling me less and less, busy and exhausted from traveling, but he still sounds like he cares when we do talk. He still asks for my help in writing their songs for the next album. He still says 'I love you'. If things keep building, they'll be on the road all the time and I'll basically be on my own with the kid. I doubt he'll really make a living large enough to support a family with the band, if he even wants us to have it. Would he even want it? Will he leave me? Is that why I'm too chicken-shit to tell him?

But … it's a part of me. A part of Trent. I don't have issues with abortion or sentimentality, and this is the very last thing I need right now in my life. So why the hell haven't I gone through with this yet? Maybe I do need to talk to someone, the clock is running out on how long terminating this pregnancy is an option.

"Yeah, ok, can I talk to someone please?"

I need to figure this out for myself. I still need to tell Trent, get his opinion on the subject, but I need to decide this for myself first. No matter what happens, I need to choose what's right for me.

Crap. I wonder if telling my mom would make her head explode. That might brighten my day.

May 31st, 2006

"If I hear one more gaggle of future MENSA candidates walking by talking about how 'fucking hot' the guys in Mystik Spiral are, I'm not going to be able to control my morning sickness. I'll aim for them while I'm at it. Projectile vomiting is always a turn-off, right?"

"Hey, aren't you here to see those guys?" asked the very confused looking back-stage grunt who was escorting me towards the musician's area.

"That's what it says on my backstage pass, doesn't it?"

"So, you aren't a groupie then?"

"Nope, I'm an international assassin. They must be stopped."

"But didn't you just say something about morning sickness? I may be a little out of it, but ... um, I don't think assassins are supposed to be, like, pregnant or shit. Or getting morning sickness at nine o'clock at night," he mused without breaking his stride.

Real eloquent one we've got here. He's going places with that vocabulary.

"Morning sickness is what some god-damn liar called it, it happens at any time of the day. And this band is my last job before I can retire to a nice little cabin in Montana with my bastard baby and a dream of living straight."

"Are you shitting me? You don't even look pregnant."

I could understand why he didn't believe me. He was right I didn't look pregnant; I hadn't gained much weight yet but I expected that would come in the second trimester. The instant I found out, well after I got over the shock anyway, I tried to be healthier even though I wasn't sure what I was going to do. No more drinks or cigarettes, even though I already used them sparingly, and I tried to eat better.

Which is hard since pizza really would have improved this situation.

"You caught me officer. I'm not an assassin. I'm not nauseous. I'm not pregnant. And I think Mystik Spiral is the dreamiest group of boys to ever pick up an instrument. Happy now?"

"Whatever. That's their bus over there. The crappy looking one with the black trash bag being used as a window near the back. Their label should get them a better ride, they're getting big enough to start asking for shit now," he muttered as he pointed out my destination and walked away.

I stood there for a minute, trying to gather my courage again. I had just spent the last few weeks working myself to the bone, finishing all my term projects and requesting to take my finals early. I didn't want to tell Trent and then not be with him for another month once he knew, so I completed everything early and came to surprise him. I missed him.

It might just be the hormones talking, but I think he'll be ok with this. With my decision to keep the baby. Ok, baby still sounds weird. Think I'll stick with parasite. It's more affectionate.

Just as I was getting ready to screw my courage to the sticking place, I saw someone else approaching the bus. Actually, two someones. One tall, lanky guy carrying a girl bridal-style. The other a really scantily clad girl. A really, really, really inebriated scantily clad girl. Even from a distance at night, I could recognize that it was Trent carrying this little slut-bomb. I froze, unable to speak or in general operate as a humanoid.

Trent? What the hell?

"Trenty? I'm SSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOO wasted right now," I heard her laugh as she tossed her arms around his neck and gave him an overly-affectionate kiss on the cheek.

"God damnit Jessica, you know better than this. Now you're going to be a pain in the ass for the rest of the night," he stated sharply, but at the same time he tenderly pushed her dyed-pink bangs back from her face.

"I wanna go back to the party … there were a lot of cute guys there … and alotta cute girls too. No one cuter than you though Trenty," she managed to say breathily before blacking out in his arms.

Trent just chuckled to himself before a mighty feat of juggling the girl and trying to open the door to the bus.

"Fucking groupies man. Fucking groupies," I heard him murmur to himself before he managed to close the door.

Trenty? Jessica? Groupies? TRENTY?

All I could do was stand there in shock as the realization hit me.

"He's cheating on me," I whispered to myself right before the rage boiled up and took me over.