THE
SUN WILL COME OUT, TOMORROW...
A
'Daria' fan fiction by Brother Grimace (brothergrimace@yahoo.com)
/6-4-2000
Thanks
(and 'Created By' credits, so tether your legal hunt-beasts!) go out to the
folks at MTV who were (a.) intelligent enough to create a show based around Our
Heroine, (b.) brave enough to actually fight to put it on the air, and (c.)
stout enough of heart and soul to keep it there. Also, credit goes to the
following inspirations in the fanfic world whose works brought me to the gate:
C.E. Forman (why aren't you writing -?), Kara Wild, Martin J. Pollard,
Invisigoth Gypsy (whose works were my introduction to Daria fan fiction - and I
thought everyone was a 'shipper!), and Canadibrit, whose incredible 'Look-Alike
Series' has been a huge influence.
Also,
a moment of silent thanks: to the memory of Professor Richard Blumenburg -my
screenwriting instructor at SIU-Carbondale, and one of the best instructors I
ever had. He once said that he didn't want me writing for television; in the
case of 'Daria' - I think he'd understand.
(Continuity
note: This story takes place IMMEDIATELY following the events of 'Liaisons'.)
Even
before the door to her room closed and locked on its own and the shades drew shut
against the cinnamon and burnt-orange of the early evening sky as if by remote
control, Daria Morgendorffer looked up from the pillow her head had touched
moments before and knew that she was about to have one of those
experiences. One of the weird ones. The ones you couldn't pass off as being
caused by stress, or eating weird food, or watching UPN. The really
over-the-top experiences that made you wonder if you shouldn't just wake
yourself up - but then you realize that you already ARE awake, but you still
think that if you could just open your eyes, it would be all over -
"Miss
Daria. I trust that your day went as
usual. Boring, unfulfilling classes that don't challenge you or engage your
full potential, an environment that provides little in the way of motivation,
and persons of all ages who shun you for a myriad of reasons. Parents, sister,
schoolmates, teachers, people in general... "
Daria
turned to the nondescript, yet well-dressed man who sat idly in a corner, the
few wisps of light able to enter the room avoiding him at all costs as he ate a
bowl of cereal. "No, your day had a few extra helpings of spice in the
usually bland fruit punch of suburban life. Insanity, revelations, death and
pain, physical, mental, emotional and spiritual, too. Ah, yes: Lawndale, at
5:45 in the afternoon. Hit me, baby, one more time."
"A
'Men In Black' wannabe who eats Rice Chex and quotes Britney Spears
lyrics," yawned the petite, bespectacled brunette. "I'm going to play
a hunch - you're either the most normal escapee from the 'house o' jackets that
make you hug yourself', or you're yet another angelic type come to deliver some
'tough love' on how I need to change my ways and be a better person."
"Not
into tough love - restraints chafe after a while." "Don't you otherworldly
types ever just consider soothing yourselves in a dark room rather than
bothering a sleeping me?"
"Personally,
I think you're perfect just the way you are," the man said, not even
bothering to glance in her direction as he spoke. "I revel in the fact
that you comport yourself in the manner of Seven of Nine's little sister - but
we have to play this one by the numbers. By the way: one - great legs, and two
- excellent Heinlein reference."
Daria
reached over to pick up a pen and a small notebook. "Today's the worst day
that I could have for this dream to happen.
Give me a moment - I'll dust off my boots, and then you can show me how
I've still got a chance - if I've got the courage to take it. Oh, and don't
mind the pen & paper - I've started to document these weird dreams."
"Remarkably
intelligent, with an astounding sense of clarity regarding the world about her,
and possessed of a cynical outlook, with sarcastic displays that register on
the Fujita scale," the man responded between bites of cereal. "I'm glad that you're so calm about
this - it makes dénouement all the more...uncertain. After I'm finished, we'll be
on our way."
"Where
would that be?" "Downstairs,
to the kitchen," was the reply. "I need to rinse this bowl out - just
leaving it up here would attract bugs."
*****
Daria
watched, disbelief on her face, as the man washed out the bowl and dried it
with a dishtowel.
"So,
when are we going to get started with this whole 'Christmas Carol'
routine?" "Daria, you misunderstand," the man told her.
"You're past that stage - and besides, that's not my department. "
"I
thought you were supposed to be some kind of angel."
"I
never said that, " the man countered. "That was your misguided
belief, fostered by misconceptions that have absolutely nothing to do with
reality. The average person would have stepped into her room, seen a
well-dressed man lounging in the corner with a bowl of breakfast cereal and -
at the very least - picked something up to either defend herself or attack... this
is America 2000, you know."
The
man placed the bowl on the rack and wiped the spoon clean. "And please
stop moving away from me like that.
From you, it's an insulting gesture - and one steeped in absolute
futility, were I so inclined towards that position."
Daria
stopped her movement towards the door and plopped herself down on a chair.
"So, you're not an angel."
"I
never said that, either," the man said, and flashed her a smile. "I
said that I'm not here as a guardian angel. I'm in personal development and
fulfillment. I'm here to keep you right
on the track you're on, and to show you how others are going to try to stop you
from achieving your full potential."
"What
do you care?" "Why should you care that I care?" the man
retorted. "I can walk away right now - just say, 'Go away. Don't ever come
back.' And I won't."
The
man sat down across from Daria. "But before you do - consider this. I know
what my potential is. I know what I'm capable of. I know just what it is that I
want, what I have to do to get it, and how far I have to go to better myself
before I get there. I know who I am, Daria Morgendorffer. I know what I
want."
He
leaned in closer. "But what about you, Daria? Who are you? What do you
want?"
"I
see you watched the 'Shadow War' episodes of B5, " Daria said.
"Pop
culture reference that a broad demographic will relate to," he shot back.
"Don't get off the subject. If you ask, I can leave. If you ask, I can
stay, and help you discover your answer. That's all I offer, Daria. Either way,
I get nothing from you in the way of payment, and I don't have to run a
Clarence on you in order to get a lousy set of wings."
"You
act like wings don't mean anything to you." "The only set of wings
that matter are aviator's wings - do you know the class of women you can score
on with those?"
The
man's face suddenly fell. "That was incredibly crass of me," he said.
"I apologize for that comment." "I've heard worse," Daria
told him. "I go to school with a guy named Upchuck, and he's nothing but a
walking hormone!"
"Upchuck...
oh, yes, the Ruttheimer boy," the man said. "I know about him. I've
got an appointment to visit him six years from now, just before he graduates
from the Air Force Academy. You know,
he's going to grow seven inches in the next year... but enough about him. Would
you like a little help?"
Daria
thought a moment, then shrugged. "Oh, hell - this is just another one of
those stupid dreams. I can probably use this in a story for Mr. O'Neill's
class. Whatever."
"And
we have a deal," the man spoke. "Now, you have to understand
something - what I'm going to do is let you- oh, hell, too late!"
As
he spoke, Jake and Helen Morgendorffer entered the kitchen, each with several
plastic grocery bags in hand. "The girls will LOVE what I'm cooking tonight,
Helen!" Jake announced, dropping the bags in the middle of the table
without seeming to notice Daria or the man. "Grilled skinless chicken
breasts with a light honey glaze, baked potatoes with whipped sour cream and a
steamed cauliflower/broccoli/carrot medley! "
Helen
actually seemed surprised at her husband's announcement. "Jake, you're not
going to try any gourmet recipes?" "You see, Helen," Jake began,
"I was thinking that, 'Iron Chef' experimentation aside, I want my girls
to have some great memories of home-cooked dinners after they go off to school.
You know what kids are like at college - if it doesn't go in a microwave or
didn't come out a drive-through window, they won't eat it!"
Jake
took the bags from his wife and placed them on the table, not noticing the
softening expression on Helen's face. "Quinn's going to be going to
parties and sorority functions all the time, and Daria'll be too far into her
books to cook actual dinners. I decided that I want them to have something nice
- something simple, a meal that doesn't call attention to itself. That's the
kind of meals I never had when I was young, Helen, and I want that for my
girls.
He
lifted a bundle of cauliflower up, looked it over, and looked over at Helen.
"Every now and then, I want to have a meal that says, 'family."
A
tear ran down Helen's face as she rushed over and gave her husband a tight,
consuming embrace that caught Jake totally by surprise. "If they're going
to use that cauliflower for anything other than steaming or boiling, I'll never
eat in this room again," Daria droned. "If this is the make me feel
sad and homesick part - you should have left out the tongue."
"I'm
sorry - you weren't supposed to see that," the man said, capturing Daria's
attention as he stood up.
"We've
got digital cable - I'm past the shock."
"I
was going to tell you that your father was planning a special dinner tonight
and give you the choice of staying or going to the library to study for your
history test," the man said, rolling his eyes, "and you stayed away
after you finished your work. I screwed up, so we went with the choice you
would have made if I hadn't come - which was to go to the library."
"And
I wasn't supposed to see this -" "Because it would prejudice your
decision, seeing how much it means to your parents," the man finished.
"Besides, with the events of today, this isn't supposed to happen, anyway...
Well, I screwed that one up royally, so let's move on to the next POD..."
The
man retrieved a device from his coat pocket that looked like the most souped-up
PalmPilot Daria had ever seen, and began to tap away. "Hey, that looks
like one of those computer links that they used on 'Quantum Leap!"
"We
had the technology first," the man said, a touch of defensiveness in his
voice as a pool of multicolored lights shimmered into reality like ripples in a
pond. "Let's go."
*****
The
color pool rippled into existence, and Daria found herself in a hallway at
Lawndale High, with Jane Lane, AP McIntyre and Lynn Cullen standing close by as
they all looked at the bulletin board.
"What's going on?" she asked, noticing that her three friends
- that everything she could see, in fact - was frozen in motion... frozen in
time.
"That's
actually a very good analogy of what's been done here," the man said,
making Daria jump as his voice came from behind. "In fact, the layman's
term for what's happening is 'temporal editing.' Right now, you're in an actual
portion of your past, at what many in the know refer to as a 'point of
divergence' - we just call them PODs. You and your friends are about to embark
on a course of action - and once I release the preroll, you'll actually be back
in that point in time. The only difference is, however... you'll have the choice
of making your choice over again. "
"What
decision?" "Can't tell you that before preroll - it'd prejudice your
decision. Preroll in five, four, three, two, one -"
"I...want...revenge,"
Lynn hissed. "You remember the information I was saving back for an
emergency?"
Jane
raised an eyebrow, Vulcan-style. "The deadly ace? The death card?"
Lynn's
eyes narrowed. "Well, it's time to
use it."
"You're
not going to...kill her, are you?"
Daria
heard the words come out of her mouth, words that were hers and yet not, and
the feeling was strange yet comfortable, like putting on clothes that you
hadn't worn in years and didn't because you didn't wear those styles anymore.
She turned to see Lynn, who looked so much like her that it was eerie, and felt
her stomach seem to turn inward on itself twice as Lynn gave her one of her
trademark thread-thin smiles that heralded Normandy-class havoc on the horizon...
"Nope.
I have better ways to spend my life than behind bars. Discredit her, embarrass
her, strip her of all her power and probably get her arrested... but not kill her."
Lynn
extended her hand, palm down. "Who's with me?" "All the way,
Purple Peril!" AP said, grinning maniacally as his hand clapped down on
Lynn's.
Daria
watched Jane's face take on that upturned, slightly evil expression she had
when considering the benefits of meddling with someone's head, then reach out
and put her hand on AP's. "Why not? I had nothing else planned."
The
three teenagers looked at Daria expectantly; a stoic look crossed her face as
she paused for a moment. "Oh... what the hell."
Her
hand touched Jane's - and a multicolored ripple exploded out from the ladder of
hands.
"Edit
complete," the man said. "You didn't change a thing. Your little
coven's plan for reciprocity will go forth as planned - and Angela Li will
fall."
"Ms.
Li got what she had coming," Daria countered. "She was a tyrant, an
embezzler, a crazy woman who -"
"-Deserved
more than to die alone and out of her mind, without loved ones around her, and
disgraced in the eyes of the community she tried to serve," the man said. "You never tried to fit into the milieu
that she created or change it through legitimate means if you believed and
could prove that Li was in the wrong. You were judge, and jury, and cunning old
fury. You tried the whole cause, and sentenced her to death."
"THAT
wasn't our fault," Daria snapped back, heat in her answer that she knew
came from a touch of guilt. "She broke out of jail, shot AP, and could
have killed God knows how many other people! " She paused for a long
moment. "She still might have killed Lynn...she might never come back to
us."
"Regardless,
it is specifically because of your choice to go along with Lynn's
scorched-earth option that this has come about," the man spoke. "Your
'Operation Ace of Spades' may never have occurred if you had thought ahead
about the consequences of your actions. You are the conscience of your group,
Daria. You have the power of moral boundaries over the others, and they know
that. You could have convinced the others that..."
A
slow grin covered the man's face as he turned to Daria. "...That some things
should only be taken so far."
"You
can't blame this on us," Daria demanded. "There was no way that we
could have known that Ms. Li would go completely crazy!" "No - I am
simply stating that you would have done it anyway," the man said. "We
really don't need to go any further, do we? I believe that you've shown me what
you want."
"I
haven't shown you anything!"
The
man took a drink of water from a fountain, then tapped away at his device. ""More's the pity for you, then. Allow me to show you what you are... or more
to the point, what you project to others..."
*****
"This
is the day we went to the Horn Dog with Trent and the others," Daria said,
looking at the way everything was frozen in time. "The day that Lynn got jumped
by that dog."
Daria
and the man stood outside what was affectionately known as 'Casa Lane',
examining the view of Daria's friends and associates preparing to travel to a
show. "Do you remember anything else about that day, Daria? Anything that,
on reflection, should have set off alarms?"
"Well,
Trent and I rode in the back of the Mercedes and I think he wanted to talk to
me about something -"
"Book
sense, but no street sense," the man sighed. "That day was so
important for you in so many ways. That was the day Trent wanted to first
confess his feelings for you, Daria. Well, he wanted to tell you he loved you
months ago, but actually said it first to - but that would be telling. Also,
that's not where we're going, Daria - at least not yet. Do you happen to remember anything
else?"
"The
dogs, Lynn fixing the Tank, that 'subversive teenage roadies' song they made up
on the fly..." "For a writer, you're really not that observant,"
the man said, shaking his head. "Let's just let things run for a minute -
and pay attention to Lynn..."
The
man tapped in a series of commands, and the world seemed to go into fast
forward until Lynn and Trent went to the trunk. "And here we go -"
"Let
me put it in terms you can understand," Lynn said, her tone no-nonsense
and businesslike. "You. Daria. Backseat of the Mercedes. Time to talk.
I'll drive and pay NO attention at all. The others can ride in your car or the
Tank. As close to privacy as you're going to get without being obvious."
Trent
gave her a sheepish grin. "Oh, yeah. Cool."
Daria
watched as Trent wandered away with Lynn's gaze upon him, a fond, exasperated
expression that - "She's falling for him," she said, her eyes going
wide. "Lynn is falling for Trent."
"Falling?
She's tripped over her boots, gone right through the grass covering and impaled
herself on the excrement-smeared punji stakes in the tiger pit of love for
Trent," the man told her, "but she stayed away in order to let you
have the first shot. Then, when you decided that you wanted AP instead of
Trent, she stayed away because of her pride. Lynn Cullen is NOBODY'S
consolation prize - no matter how much she wants to be in his arms. Why do you
think you found out about her little slip-up with Trent in London the way you
did? Why do you think Lynn's never come to you with her feelings in the
matter?"
"Sounds
like she could use a guardian angel more than me." "One - not a
guardian. Two - you need me more than she does for what's to come," the
man said. "Three - Wouldn't want her involved in the business if I can
help it. Someday she would try for a takeover."
He
hit a button on the device, and everything started to move backwards in time.
"Back to why we're here, though. Remember anything of worth that Jane said
that day?"
"No,
not really."
"Then
prepare for a solid hit," he interjected. "Here we go -"
"...And
I don't like the look of Trent's car," Lynn grinned, leaning against her
silver Mercedes.
"I've
seen worse."
"Oh,
yeah," Daria heard herself say. "Whatever happened to Tom,
anyway?"
Even
though she had lived it before, Daria was still taken aback by the sheer, yet
calm, lethality in Jane's response: "I don't want that name mentioned ever
again."
"Okay."
The
freeze-effect took hold again, and the man walked over to an open-mouthed
Daria. "Got any witty color commentary to gloss over what you just
did?"
"I
didn't find out what happened to her and Tom," she said, looking at the
multitude of emotions that turned her best friend's face into an unreadable
mask. "Something happened with the first guy that she really had something
going for -"
"-And
you never bothered to press her on it," the man finished for her. "You just tossed aside what had to be -
judging by her reaction - a horrible experience as though it was a news story
about someone a world away, and kept going on with your life. You never
bothered to find out what happened to Jane, Daria. You were too wrapped up in
yourself to care."
"What
happened to Jane? What happened between her and Tom?"
"There
are some areas that even I am not allowed to touch for my purposes. This is one
of them," the man said. "If it is meant for you to know that, then
you will find out in due course."
"Did
he hurt her? Did he force himself on her? What did Tom do to Jane?" Daria
demanded, her eyes flaring as her voice rose. "Tell me what happened to
Jane, you bastard! WHAT DID HE DO TO HER?"
"It
is irrelevant for our purposes. It is history now," he spoke, his tone
concluding the conversation. "As I told you earlier, others will come
forward to try to deny you the right of becoming all that you may be. It is now
time for them to speak."
"I
don't understand." "For this, understanding in unnecessary - only
adherence," the man told Daria, as the color pool appeared before them.
"Where we go now, I cannot help you," he said. "Follow your
instincts. Believe in who you are."
They
went through the shimmering rainbow of light. "And now begins... the
Intervention."
*****
"Hello,
Daria," Jodie Landon said, leading Daria through a darkened hallway
towards the gymnasium. "You don't have to be afraid. We want to help you -
all of us do."
"I'm
not afraid." "Yes, you are - and really, isn't that the
problem?"
Jodie
held the door of the auditorium, and Daria walked in to see a number of people
she knew sitting in chairs arranged in a three-quarters circle, with a single
chair in the middle.
As
Jodie led her to the chair, Daria saw her sister and parents, "Mack'
Mackenzie, Kevin Thomphson and Brittany Taylor, along with three of her
teachers from Lawndale High -Anthony O'Neill, Janet Barch, and Anthony
DeMartino. Jane, Trent and their mother, Amanda Lane, were also seated, as were
Charles 'Upchuck' Ruttheimer, the three other members of Mystic Spiral (Jesse,
Nick and the infamous Max), and Tad and Tricia Gupty,
AP,
Lynn, and Amy Barksdale came through the door as Daria sat down, and Jodie put
her hand on Daria's shoulder. "Daria, we're all here today because we care
about you, and we're worried about you," she said, looking into her eyes.
"We want to tell you what you mean to us."
"Daria,
I want to begin by telling you something that's obvious to each and every
person that's here - that you are a very special girl," Mr. O'Neill said,
coming up and kneeling beside her. "You have a gift - a gift for creating
beauty with your words. You're one of the most talented and gifted students
that I've ever known."
"All
right, skinny, enough with the bending the knee - I want to say
something!" Ms. Barch barked, pushing Mr. O'Neill off to one side.
""Look, Daria - you don't need this touchy-feely crap! You're a smart
girl - you're going to make it on your own without the need to get hitched up
to some lousy, sneaky, lazy MAN who expects you to provide all the things necessary
to run a house while he just lies around, drinks beer, watches TV - and who'll
you'll catch with some slinky, painted-up, bleach-blonde heifer who barely
weighs a hundred pounds and most of that's in her bra with your brand new
television set and the money in your 'I'm going to Aruba!' vacation jar -"
"Hey,
I think she's gonna blow," Jesse remarked calmly - and Ms. Barth spun
around, unholy anger in her eyes as she picked up Jesse and started beating Max
and Nick with him!
"HELP-!"
"Die, you unwashed, unworthy MEN -"
"CONTROL
yourself, Janet!" Mr. DeMartino bellowed, and Daria looked up to see the
man standing on the other side of the gym, a pistol in his outstretched hand.
"Want
a little help, Mr. D?"
"This
is going well," Daria yawned, as Tad and Tricia both pulled out stun guns
and darted Ms. Barch, dropping her to the floor like a hot pan.
"Daria
- we like you because you taught us to think for ourselves," Tricia said,
smiling up at her. "You taught us that people will lie to us for many reasons
- if for no other reason than that they can - so we shouldn't take anything for
granted. " "Yeah!" Tad echoed. "Don't just listen to people
talk - listen to what they say and what they don't say!"
The
Gupty kids skittered back to their chairs as Mack leaned forward. "Being
around you, Daria - it's like knowing you've got a secret weapon against
whatever crap someone's got planned for all of us. You're special. Having you
around - it's like having someone who challenges you, who makes you want to work
harder because you know that you're going against the best and you're not going
to go out with anything less than all you've got.
"Daria,
you're a cool chick," Jesse said. "You listen to our music, you
helped us with stuff, and you bailed us out of jail." "Yeah, right,
man," Nick and Max echoed. "Excellent chick."
"Daria,
although you really don't try to talk to me or Kevin or a lot of the kids at
school, I can see that you're still a nice girl," Brittany said.
"You're really smart, and if you wanted to, you could be SO pretty -"
"Yeah - you could be HOT!" Kevin snorted out. "Man, when you
didn't wear your glasses that one time, I was like, "Dude! Look at Daria!
She's got that real cute face, and those legs, man, and if she had a little
more up front and took off that jacket, she could be like, on FIRE, man!"
"A
ringing endorsement from a noted professional." "He's just an amateur
at the eternal game of love, my sweet," Upchuck rumbled, "the
professional's over here."
"Oh,
God."
"From
a woman of your caliber, those words are not just music to my ears, but a
divine symphony," Upchuck growled. "You're easily one of the most
desirable women in Lawndale, Daria. But don't think it is simply because of
your exquisite exterior - with you, it is the inside as well. Any man who has
the panache to win your hand is truly a great man indeed - and to that
gentleman, whoever he shall be, I must tip my hat."
Making
a motion like tipping a hat, Upchuck took his seat as Amanda Lane stood.
"The young gentleman is right, Daria. There are powerful, wondrous forces
at work around you, forces that I feel will guide and shape you into a great
person."
Amanda
walked over to Daria, and looked deep into her eyes. "You came here to
Lawndale for a reason. I would like to think that part of this reason was to
become a part of the lives of my children, because I believe that their lives
are brighter with you there. Remember that, Daria, and this: unlike any other
person I have met before, I can say this - you are here, among us, for a
purpose. Daria... you have a destiny that awaits you."
"Arriving
back here on PLANET EARTH, I'd like to put my TWO CENTS in now!" Mr.
DeMartino barked. "Miss Morgendorffer, you are one of the BRIGHTEST and
most GROUNDED students I've had the unexpected pleasure of actually IMPARTING
KNOWLEDGE TO, since I began my TOUR OF DUTY in this forsaken BASTION of
developmental INEPITUDE! You have displayed a CONSISTENT and GENUINE capacity
for leaving this intellectual MOSH-PIT with not only an actual EDUCATION, but
the ability of advancing through this WORLD and a life of ACTUAL WORTH without
the FORSEEABLE need to have your head removed from your NETHER REGIONS!"
"Your
father and I agree with what Mr. DeMartino says, dear," Helen said,
watching as Jake went up to Daria. "You're just fine the way you
are." "That's right, Kiddo!" Jake said, hugging Daria tightly.
"No matter what happens - you're my little girl!"
"Air
- breathing not optional," Daria gasped, and Jake let her go. "I'm
sorry, honey - it's just that, you're growing up so fast, and I know that
you'll be able to deal with anything that comes your way, but I'm going to miss
watching over you. I love you, Kiddo."
Jake
kissed Daria on her rapidly-reddening forehead, and Quinn came up. 'Well, GOD,
Daria, you know I think you're smart, and you're sneaky, and I KNOW that I owe
you for all the times you've helped me with Mom and Dad and that sneaky Sandi
and all the other stuff, too. I mean, c'mon - do you think I'D go to get help
from someone who WASN'T smart? And I know you know this already, but-"
Quinn
leaned in and whispered in her ear.
"-I'm glad you're my sister and I love you."
She
pulled back. "And you could do so much if you just used the moisturizers
and the exfoliliant that I got you for Christmas - Well, gotta run!"
Daria
looked up as Lynn, AP and Jane stood directly in front of her. "What the
bloody hell is wrong with you that you'd need this?" Lynn snapped.
"The day we're not here for you is the day they 'tag and bag' the lot of
us!"
"You
know it, Erudite Emerald!" AP grinned at her. "Besides, you know we
like you - where else could we find someone as wonderfully twisted as
you?" "Put 'em together, people," Jane smirked, putting her hand
out, palm down. "We're 'the Flack-Jacket Mafia', and we take care of our
own!"
Four
pairs of hands came down, and Daria looked up to see Amy step up. "There's
not much I can say that they haven't," she said. "The only thing that
I can say is that I can't see people putting this effort into telling you how
they feel if they didn't care. Speaking of people who care - looks like there's
one other person who'd like to say something..."
"Actually,
that's not true," the man interrupted, looking down from the bleachers,
"but we'll burn that bridge when we get to it."
Daria
stood up and walked over to where Trent stood. "Daria. You were the first
person outside of my family who believed in me. You made me realize that the
Prize I need to keep my eyes on isn't the winning, but the journey towards the
goal. Having you around keeps my head on straight. Having you around makes me
want to keep making music. You're more than just my inspiration, Daria. You're
my Linda McCarthy."
"Daria,
I guess there's one more person here who wants to talk to you, " Jodie
said, turning her to the door. "I wasn't sure, but-"
"Hello,
Daria."
Daria's
breath caught in her throat for a blink of a second, and her eyes grew large
and angry.
"Tom."
"They
asked me to come, " the dark-haired boy said, rolling an egg over and over
in his hands as he walked up to her. "I would have come even if they
hadn't asked."
"What
did you do to Jane?" "What makes you think I did anything to
her?" he asked. "Perhaps we just decided it wouldn't work. Perhaps
she and I said things or touched on parts of our life that were better left
alone."
Daria
found herself looking much too closely into a pair of jade-green eyes that
seemed to disperse her anger in their gaze. "Perhaps Jane thought that her
friend the Lady Daria protested too much about the new young man in the
picture, and perhaps she also thought that her new paramour was a touch too
curious about her bespectacled friend with the rapier wit. Perhaps they decided
that, for friendship's sake, that they part friends and the young man not find
his way into the byways and locales frequented by the Lady Daria."
Tom
and Daria were a hair's breath away from one another. "Because perhaps the
young man was afraid that the Lady Jane's words rang true, and there was a
connection there to be discovered. A
connection to be nurtured, true, but one seemingly created by destiny."
Daria
realized that her heart was racing as though she was in an all-out sprint, and
her breathing had slowed as Tom took his hand in hers. The sensation was as if
her hand were in the burning flow of a smelting fire, molding with the warmth
of his hand, merging with a sensation of the rightness of it all, like prophecy
fulfilled...
"A
connection between souls that was meant to be."
"Daria,
do you understand now?" Jodie asked, interrupting as Daria's lips moved
towards Tom's as if through their own will. "There are so many people who
believe in you; who accept you for what you are."
"Accept
me...?"
The
seeming spell was broken, and Daria turned to Jodie. "You accept me."
"Of
course."
"Despite
the flaws and the little things that all of you wish that I would change about
myself."
"Look,
" the man said to the Vorlon beside him, who wore a press ID, "the
boots and skirt juxtaposition is not a sexual statement. It's comfortable,
& she can hurt someone."
"Daria,"
a puzzled Jodie asked, "I don't see where this is coming from -"
"It's
coming from me, Jodie! Daria!" Daria snapped, her voice rising in
intensity and volume. "Daria, the Brain!' Daria, the girl who could be
pretty if she just lost those military- surplus glasses and wore contacts!
Daria - the girl who could be SO popular if she just stopped acting like high
school was a prison sentence and got involved in sports, or the clubs, or
anything that says 'Lawndale, Lawndale - rah, Rah, RAH! Daria - the girl who's so SICK AND TIRED of
all of you telling me that I need to change things about myself in order to
just be there as a simple face in the crowd! DARIA - the girl who wants to tell
all of you to hop right on Satan's Concorde and GO STRAIGHT TO HELL!"
"Daria,
please-"
With
a soul-stripping scream of anger, Daria snatched the egg out of Tom's hand and
flung it across the length of the gym to explode against the 'Lion Pride!'
painting on the far wall.
"ALL
OF YOU - GET AWAY FROM ME!"
The
gym was suddenly quiet; Daria opened her eyes to see that the gymnasium was now
empty, save for herself, and the man, and -
"Who
-the - FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"
Daria
suddenly found herself looking upward at the gym ceiling and the light
fixtures; her nose began to sting as Lynn's smoldering profile moved into her
view like an enraged lioness.
"Get
up," she said, her voice taking on the quiet, serious, deadly monotone,
devoid of emotion, that she had heard only once before and instinctively knew
to fear. "I said - get up."
Lynn
jerked Daria to her feet, her face a warped mirror of cold anger that Daria
tried to pull away from. "You do stupid things across the board, and we're
all there for you. You ruin my Mercedes and Jane's there for you - but I should
have kicked your ass. You play Trent
and AP off one another like your little yo-yos of love; they're still there for
you and I really wanted to kick your ass. Now you actually have the gall to
stand up and say that we don't care about you unless you change?"
The
anger Lynn felt contorted her face even more. "Let me tell you something:
the ONLY reason I don't slap fire from your ass and let my boot set up a base
camp in your lower intestine is because I love you like the sister I never had
- but that doesn't mean I need to stay here and watch you treat good people
like nothing! Hell, not even Upchuck deserved that - and he really had
something nice to say!"
Daria
squeaked out a cry of pain as she dropped back to the floor. "You know the
worst part of caring about someone?" Lynn snapped, heading for the doors.
"Even though you love them - sometimes, you can't stand the sight of them.
Get bent."
"Well,
that was fun," the man said, dusting off his pants as he made his way down
to the floor. Anyway, the halftime show's over - and away from here we go.
There's something else I would like you to see."
"And
what's that?"
"A
world that embodies your worst fears, Daria. The dark side. The final, total
damnation of your immortal soul, " the man told her, the color pool
opening before her like a black hole. "Everyone has his or her own
personal hell. It's time to examine yours."
The
man stepped up to the event horizon of the rippling lines of space and force, a
smile on his face as he turned back to Daria and extended his hand.
"Welcome...
to the Apocalypse."
*****
"This
is getting annoying," Daria said, stepping through the color pool behind
the man. "Lawndale High. Does all of my life have to revolve around this
snakepit?" You're a seventeen year-old Caucasian female with an IQ over
150, no drug habit, a measure of common sense and your virginity intact,"
the man replied. "Cynic or sell-out, high school is your mother
world."
He
looked at his link. "Ready for a party?" "What are you going to
do now?"
"Incorrect
on both counts. It's what you did, and two years ago is when you did it."
Time
became normal, and Daria found herself in the middle of a massive crowd that
seemed to migrate towards the football field? "What's going on?" she
shouted, barely able to hear over the crowd. "Do they have public
lynchings here? Is THAT what's going to happen to me?"
"Even
worse, " the man yelled back. "They're going to give you an award for
everything you've done to put Lawndale High on the map!"
"WHAT?"
"Come on - you're going to love what's happening here!"
*****
"Ladies
and gentlemen, students of Lawndale High and everyone else here tonight,
welcome to this free concert!" Jodie called out over her microphone as she
stood on the stage built on the sideline of the Lawndale High football field.
"Before we get everything started tonight, let's have a round of applause
for Angela Li, Principal of Lawndale High!"
Cheers
erupted from the standing-room only crowd on the field as Ms. Li stepped out
onto the stage sans glasses, wearing
a very fashionable dress and her now-long hair down over her left breast as she
walked over to the mike. "Good evening, and thank you all for coming out
to support your fellow students of Lawndale High!" she said, stunning
Daria - who had never heard her fail to put emphasis on the name of the school.
"I won't say much, except to bring out the young woman whose efforts brought
us all here tonight and who brought the light of stardom upon our city! I
present to you - Daria Morgendorffer!"
"WHAT?"
"Don't injure yourself just yet - it gets much better."
Daria
watched as the Daria of this reality - a Daria with flowing, bouncy hair with shimmering
auburn highlights in her hair, an assured stride and no glasses to hide her
perfectly shaped eyelashes and large eyes - walked on stage and over to Ms. Li.
This Daria was dressed in a wine-colored spaghetti-string top and matching long
skirt that went perfectly with the ivory-hued sandals that laced almost all the
way up her shapely calves, and gave Ms. Li a hug that made Daria almost gag.
"I'm
going to follow Ms. Li's example," the other Daria called out, "and
just say that I'm glad that I had a chance to do something that'll show people
all across the country what Lawndale High means to all of us!"
The
stampede-like roaring of the crowd barely registered on a shell-shocked Daria.
"Daria,
I'd like to take this opportunity to present to you a token of regard,"
Ms. Li said, motioning for Brittany, who held a covered object in her arms, to
come forward. "On behalf of the Mayor and the Lawndale City Council, the
people of our fair community, and the students and faculty - we present Daria
Louise Morgendorffer with the Key to the City!"
Brittany
unveiled a impressive crystalline key mounted on a plaque of oak and bronze,
and hugged the other Daria, who actually had tears of joy in her eyes as she
returned Brittany's hug and hugged Ms. Li.
"Thank
you, Angela," the other Daria whispered into Ms. Li's ear. "You're
like a mother to me in all the ways that count." "You don't know how
much it means to me to hear you say that, " Ms. Li replied, her own eyes
wet with tears. "Thank you, Daria."
The
man turned to Daria, who was white as a sheet. "Are you all right, Daria?
Would you like a bromide, or a spoonful of Robitussin?"
"All
right, everybody - let's get on with the show!" the other Daria yowled
through her mike. "Eight months ago, their CD 'Pride In Ourselves' became
the first CD in history to go double platinum in less than a day, and their
singles 'Tears For Lawndale High' and 'Nibblett' tied at Number #1 for seven
straight weeks! They've done shows in New York, Los Angeles, Tokyo, Rio de
Janeiro, Sydney, and even a Command Performance for the Crown Prince of
England!"
"I
feel like I just fell into my own personalized copy of 'X-Men' #142,"
Daria cringed, her face lined with disgust as she watched the bubbly, perky
delivery of her alternate self. "This can't get any worse - "
"And
now - welcome back Michael Jordan Mackenzie, Charles Ruttheimer the Third, Ted
Dewitt-Clinton, AP McIntyre and Kevin 'QB' Thomphson!" the other Daria
belted out over the Richter-scale rumbling from the crowd. "Let's give up
some love for - LAWNDALE PRIDE!"
"Please...
if you must be sick, turn away from me," the man said, glancing down with
distaste at the mess Daria had made, "and take one of these mints. They'll
help." "Oh, man," Daria
groaned, picking herself up from her knees as she accepted a handkerchief from
the man. "How did this happen...?"
"Long
or short version?" "Short."
"All
right - you sold out, and enjoyed it."
"WHAT?"
"Sold
out - as in 'Like Courtney Love, your local Congressman, and every star from
the WB Network who's tried to spin off into movies," the man quipped.
"Daria, don't you at least want to hear them sing? They're the Big Thing
right now in pop music, and you wrote their songs for them..."
"What
did I do?"
"It
goes all the way back to your first day at Lawndale High," the man said,
stopping time as he walked across the stage to gaze at the alternate Daria.
"You saw the way Quinn was treated, and the only person who would talk to
you was an arty, alternative type. To this Daria, it was the same old song as
back in Highland - and being a cynical, intelligent loner on the outside wasn't
something she wanted to be anymore."
"This
Daria and Jane passed the Self-Esteem exam and went before the school assembly,
just as you both did in your reality, but then, a single bead of sweat changed
this Daria's history," the man continued. "A bead of sweat from your
- her - brow fell on her lens just before she began to speak. She took off her
glasses, wiped them clean, and then brushed her hair back - and a couple of
football players in the front row whistled at the pretty girl behind the
glasses. "
"I'm
not so shallow that a couple of meatheads whistling at me would -"
"Daria.
Look me directly in the eyes and tell me that you have never - NEVER - wanted
guys to follow you with their gaze as you walked by," the man said.
"It's part of who you are, part of what makes you a human, and a woman.
You want to be noticed. We all do."
The
man took a slow orbit around the divergent-reality Daria, then looked up.
"Like I said before - great legs. Anyway, it wasn't just the football
players who noticed. When she took off those glasses and tossed her hair - it
was like a bomb went off in that auditorium. From that moment on, she was
'Daria - that hot little brunette with brains'. People noticed her for her
looks AND her abilities. You have to understand that for this Daria, a door had
opened - and it was like being admitted into the Emerald City. She knew that it
was based on looks first, brains second - but universal acceptance is a sweet
nectar, and a drug more addictive than anything you can imagine. For this
Daria, there was a choice: walk through the door, knowing that you've
compromised your principles but salving your morality with popularity,
acceptance and opportunity - or turning away, rejecting the brass ring to head
back into the sad, lonely abyss of social oblivion with her character
intact."
He
gazed into the perfect face of the other Daria. "She couldn't say no. This
Daria took a step over a line she created in her mind when she was just a
toddler, and as the saying goes - once you lose your virginity, you can't ever
get it back. Once that line was crossed, it was easier to lose herself and her
inner shame in the delusion rather than try to go back, and it got easier with
each passing day."
"Wait
a minute - what about Quinn? She would see that as a threat -"
"Are
you kidding? She was the happiest person on Earth!" the man laughed,
pointing to a spot just off-stage where the alternate Quinn was frozen in time,
tears of happiness also on her cheeks as she sightlessly watched her sister.
"After years of 'my weird cousin,' it was like she had found a long-lost
sister! They bonded immediately! Daria and Quinn became spotlights of what it
was to be a high-school student, and Ms. Li took Daria to her bosom like a
mother cat and her kit!"
"About
that..."
"In
this reality, with a student like Daria to showcase to the world, Angela Li
didn't feel the overwhelming compulsion to prove her excellence at
administrating a school like Lawndale which, in your reality, became a
psychotic obsession. She loosened up, both professionally and personally, and
Lawndale High became less of a pressure cooker. Test scores are up 46% from the
same time last year, and the average Lawndale High SAT score for this year was
1050. Ms. Li will be honored as 'Administrator of the Year', this coming
September in Washington, D.C. "
Daria
walked across the stage and stopped at Kevin, dressed in gray cords and a
Lawndale Phys-Ed t-shirt. "What's with him - who peeled him out of the
football uniform?"
"To
save time, Daria - let's just go down the line with the guys," the man
said, reading from his device. " Michael. Still captain of the football
team, good friends and study partners with Jodie, going steady with Stacy Rowe
for the past eight months. He and Jodie sat down and talked after talking to
your divergent self, and they realized that being together simply because
they're both black and popular was going to eventually embitter them towards
one another. Jodie's seeing a sophomore at Texas A & M now, an agricultural
student named - are you ready for this? Jean-Luc. As for Mike and Stacy, they
came together when you had her talk him into joining the group, and the song
'Nibblett' is a reasonably non-syrupy ballad you and Michael wrote together for
her after they became a couple - it's his nickname for her. You turned out to
be quite the yenta yourself - I mean, your alter is. They get offered fashion
contracts three years from now, but turn them down to go together to NYU - she
in meteorology, and he in digital graphics & animation. They're going to be
together for a long time."
He
continued on. "Charles. Is elected salutatorian of his graduating class
two years from now - maintains a 3.98 GPA even while touring with the group.
" The man looked up to see the shocked look on Daria's face. "Just
because he currently has no social skills in your reality doesn't mean he's
unintelligent as well, Daria. After all - what better definition of 'nerd' is
there?"
The
man leaned forward and put his hand next to his face, as if sharing a secret,
and whispered, "And just between you and me... if a guy spends that amount
of time thinking about sex, it stands to reason that someday - he might be very
good at it. Helpful hints for the future."
"Ted.
Goes on to a solo career four years from now. Four Grammys, an Oscar for Best
Song, and a People's Choice Award. Gets seriously into environmental issues and
helps get some very important legislation passed that saves a lot of lives. He
and Quinn stay together, have four beautiful children, and marry nine years
from now."
"Kevin.
He becomes a male supermodel, kids' safety activist, actor and co-owner of an
international fast-food corporation. Ten years from now, he'll be worth 300
million dollars." The man looked up and sighed. "It would be scary,
if he wasn't putting so much money into child-care and child-safety programs.
By the way, he's out of the uniform because of you: 'Daria doesn't need her
glasses to let people know she's smart, so I don't need my uniform to let
people know I'm the QB!' - end quote."
"What
about AP?" "Are you sure you want to go there?" the man asked.
"It's not pretty..."
"Do
it." Well, he comes to Lawndale in almost the same way he does in your
reality, and he, Jane and Lynn form a clique - a triad to stand against the
'heinous sell-out Morgendorffer wenches!' AP, however, meets you - and tosses
over Lynn & Jane two weeks later. You, or rather, your alternate, has a
gift for turning a head. You're the one who suggests the idea for the pop
group, and with your father's help - which puts Morgendorffer Consulting firmly
on the map with the entertainment community, as it turns out - you put 'Lawndale
Pride' together with AP as your first recruit."
"Oh,
come on!" Daria said. "AP
would NEVER join a little-boy band and do corporate-bland dance steps on stage
for screaming thirteen-year-olds!"
"He
would if a very attractive, very school-oriented and very sexually aware
seventeen-year-old did a full-court press on him, with a very liberal dose of
grand-slams in the back of limos," the man retorted. "Being female,
you have absolutely no comprehension of the raw power a sexually-willing young
woman has upon a young man - none whatsoever. Lynn's his friend and
partner-in-grime, but factor in a girl who looks just like his best bud and
does everything in bed but sleep? Daria, he's SIXTEEN - the boy didn't stand a
chance!"
"I
don't want to hear any more."
"
No, you don't - do the words 'Method 26' ring a bell?"
"No
- AP's book lists 25 -"
"The
day after her best friend since they had pacifiers went over to the Dark Side
because of you, Lynn came up with a new one," the man said, shuddering as
he slipped a small book from an inner pocket and handed it to Daria. "You
see, THIS is what happens when a girl like Lynn Cullen gets very angry and
has time to think about you... a lot of time. It took her a year and a half alone
to save up enough of her own urine in two-liter bottles... The things she did - setting up the
simulcast cameras for a worldwide Internet broadcast, especially the four
liquid-proof, underwater-capable minicams in your VW Beetle... gassing your
entire neighborhood with the sleep-aerosols AP designed but, in this reality,
never used just to get you out of your house unnoticed, and coating your entire
body in Nair -"
The
man shook his head sadly as Daria looked up, a look of shock on her face. "As bare as the day you were born. That
web site she likes - "
"Subversion_Is_We
-"
"-Were
so impressed by the lengths she went to, they presented her with the 'Bobo the
Pack Mule' award for carrying a grudge. The video of what she did to Daria's
their #4 best seller of all time in their e-catalog."
A
queasy Daria handed the book back. "She did THAT to me...?"
"No,
she WILL do that to you, tomorrow morning," the man shrugged. "Right
now, she's getting the bottles out of self-storage," the man quipped.
"It's like a little wine cellar of hate. "
"Oh,
THERE'S a pretty visual -"
"You
should look on the bright side - the advances made in your case bring almost
immediate relief to mental patients all over the world," the man assured
her. "The Daria Foundation' raises a LOT of money for the cause. Lynn does
get fifteen years, but the U.N. Security Council springs her, gives her a new
identity - 'Melody Powers'... now, where have I heard that name before? - and
puts her to work. Did you know there's actually an organization very much like
the Impossible Missions Force?"
"As
for Jane - she started hanging out with the band more, and they've finally
changed their name. They are 'Criminales' - and they try to earn the name every
time they go out in public. They're actually successful - but it's more for
their attitude and floorshow than the music. They're banned in twelve states,
MTV only shows their stuff after midnight - and they can't EVER go back to
Mexico, ever again. Long story that involves a Chihuahua and novelty condoms.
Max has something like 70 children now across the USA, they call Nick
'8-Tracks' - we don't need to go into reasons - and its not a Criminales gig if
Jesse doesn't urinate off the stage. I'm not even going to go into the
'Angelina Jolie & her brother' spiel that Jane and Trent pull on stage -
they don't get fleshy & it's not for real, but it'll make you wince..."
Daria
looked around, then turned to the man. "Take me away from here - right
now."
"But
you didn't even ask about your parents."
"As
long as they're alive and okay, I don't need to see them!"
The
man looked down at his feet.
"What
happened to my parents?" "Your father's fine. Your mother,
well..."
"Talk."
"Do you remember that school trip you took - the one where your parents
surprised you by showing up as chaperones?"
"Yes..."
"In this reality, the pressure to do things with you and Quinn wasn't as
strong, so they didn't volunteer. They stayed home, your mom worked late, and
the Lexus was strung out like Detroit pasta by a 18-wheeler that lost pressure
on its brake line and rolled over on its side with a full load of I-beams on
back."
The
man tapped at his link. "To be fair, Daria - this, for you, is not real.
It will never be real. It can't ever happen, because the trigger event happened
two years ago. This is an example of your worst-case scenario - not because of
death, or bad feelings, but because of this."
He
walked over to the alternate Daria, and gestured for Daria to come close.
"Look at her, Daria. There are joys that she's experienced that you may
never know in your life. She's popular, and well liked, and beautiful, and she
has opportunities I can well assure you that you will never be offered. Look at
her, Daria. Why shouldn't this be you?"
When
she remained silent, the man moved aside slightly so that Daria could look into
the eyes of her doppelganger. "Look into her eyes, Daria. Look deep
within."
He
turned to face her. "Because I can assure you of this: if she were given
the same opportunity - she wouldn't be able to. Not with what she's done."
"What
has she done?" "Spiritually, she allowed herself to become nothing
but a whore - and she enjoyed every minute of it," the man said, a tough
of regret in his voice. "The sad part, really, is that almost everyone
else but her will profit - and she's going to lose it all."
A
color pool flowed into existence, and the man turned away. "Let's
go," he said to Daria. "There is one more place that we have to go -
and nothing more to see here."
Daria
looked one last time at her alternate self. "I'm sorry for your
loss," she whispered, and turned to walk off into infinity.
In
the last three shakes before that reality disappeared into its own whisper of
the multiverse, another tear appeared on the cheek of the alternate Daria... a
tear of infinite regret, of loss, and shame, for innocence lost and now forever
denied.
*****
Daria
stood out on the open road in front of the manor that was Brittany Taylor's
home.
"I
remember this..."
"You
should - this is the night of the only party that you were ever invited
to," the man said. "Tell me, Daria - why didn't you try to socialize
with any of the other kids there?"
"Because
they're stupid."
"As
in what they do, or what they are?"
Daria
remained silent. "I'll tell you why you didn't try to socialize; because
you feel superior to them. You feel that the things they're interested in and
the way they act is beneath you. You're right, of course, but you've forgotten
something... they're not supposed to know that they're beneath you!"
"I
don't act like that."
"Oh,
yes, you do."
"No, I don't!"
"Really? Name three persons that you've
helped - outside of your friends - for no other reason than because it was the
right thing to do! Name the last person outside of your little coven that
you've provided guidance or comforting words to rather than mockery or
scorn!"
There
was silence.
"I
know what you're thinking," the man said, after the silence had grown
painfully long. "Who am I to say any of this about you? After all, I don't
know you, and I'm an angel - why am I dragging up and showing me things that
would hurt? Didn't I say that I was here to help with your personal development
and fulfillment? What kind of angel are you?"
He
leaned against a tree. "I have done what I promised, Daria. Who are
you?"
The
young woman looked at him with a cool stare, but no response. "You're an
elitist, Daria. You are a snob. You have a certain level that you expect others
to reach, and if they don't - you banish them from your conscience and your
consciousness. You are a young woman with all of the warmth, the sensitivity
and the emotional range of a character played by Christine Lathi. In other
words, Daria - you're a bitch. That's who you are."
"You
don't know me."
"No, I don't. I only know what you allow
me to see - and what you've allowed me to see is that you're an egotist with
little concern for those below you... even if they're family. You want to remove
yourself from the so-called 'unwashed masses', but not completely; after all,
we will always need workers in this world!"
The
man walked in a slow, airy circle about Daria. "You are idealistic, but
cynical. You are intelligent, but unwilling to step outside the traditional
avenues of the intellegencia to seek other areas of expressing that intellect.
You are sensitive, but your reaction towards others is to cause them pain. You
are beautiful, but reactionary towards the concept of beauty - and I'm not
referring to the girls in that insipid Fashion Club. You have the capacity to lead through example - but the example
you forward is that nothing being done is of any worthwhile doing. "
The
man stopped, and looked Daria directly in the eye. "You are seen by some
as a role model, Daria," he said, his voice soft like a kitten's paw
against her cheek, "as an inspiration for others to follow. I can tell you
this, though: You are no role model, and the only things that those like you
inspire are intolerance, hypocrisy and anarchy."
Daria
looked at the man, and he looked at her with a mixture of sadness and shame.
"Others are going to follow your example, and will waste their lives in
petulant displays of disdain at the people around them instead of going out and
living! Look at you, Daria - how many chances have you let go through your
fingers because you refuse to lower yourself to be a HUMAN BEING and instead
provide smarmy, sarcastic remarks at the expense of other person's feelings?
Look at what you've done to the noblest, most wonderful state that a human can
exist in, Daria! You bring pain and suffering to all those people you say you
care about! You, Daria, do nothing but hurt the persons you claim that you
love!"
"That
is not true."
"Really?"
Jane Lane is your so-called best friend - and how many times have you forced
her to choose between your friendship and those persons and experiences she
would, could and SHOULD savor and grow from? Who made you judge and gave you
Midas' scales? Who said your opinion was so valid and inviolate that YOU should
be located on Mount Sinai? How DARE you say that these people mean something to
you?
"I
care about all of these people."
"Really?
The man you supposedly have feelings for has NEVER heard anything remotely
resembling 'Trent, I care for you' escape your lips! The boy you're seeing is
only at your side because you resemble the woman of his dreams - and allow me
to tell you now that you will NEVER possess any of the fire, or the wonder, or
the passion that flows through a single strand of Lynn Cullen's hair even
now! AP could never want you the way he
wants Lynn, Daria. He wants and deserves a woman with a soul, a person whose
every single movement and very appearance signifies life - not a caustic-mouthed human shell with the
singular ability to create chaos with tongue and pen."
Daria's
lip started to tremble. "Let's talk about your mother, Daria, who you care
for so much. You can't even tell her that you love her - oh, I misspoke myself.
You COULD say it in SIGN LANGUAGE!"
The
man came back around, and Daria heard his voice, a bare whisper in her ear.
"Kate Cullen was right all along, Daria. We both know that, don't
we?"
Daria
looked into the dark, formless chasm that lay behind the man's dark-upon-dark
eyes as he stopped and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"You
should have been aborted."
The
man lifted Daria's head by her chin, and shook his head sadly as he saw tears
trail slowly down the girl's cheeks. "Daria, I told you when I first came
that I would help you reach your full potential. I can still do that, if you'll
let me."
Daria
didn't trust herself to speak; she tried to turn her head from the man, but he
held her fast. "If you want, I can
show you how you can make up for all that you've done. I can show you what you
can do to now help all those you failed before. I can still help you do
that."
"What..."
Daria's voice broke, and the flood of emotions from events recent and past
flowed through to reduce her to tears. Her legs could no longer support her,
and the man caught her & lowered her to the ground before she could fall.
"What
can I do...?" "Only one thing," the man said, and she lifted her
head to see a shining silver object in his hand... a silver dagger, with the hilt
and handle in the shape of an angel with outstretched wings.
It's
very simple, Daria. You can serve as an example."
Daria
suddenly felt a wetness encircle her, and she blinked; her vision cleared to
reveal a pristine lake surrounding her, warm and inviting, immersed up to her
waist. "You can let go, Daria. Let them find their own way. Let Jane find
the love, and the experiences, and the freedom that she deserves and needs in
order to discover the great works of art within her soul. Let AP and Trent be
there for Lynn; let them all discover what it is to be young and in love for
themselves, without any distractions or condemnations. Let your family go,
Daria. You are now only going to serve
as a reminder to your parents of betrayal, and illicit passion, and of pain
beyond imagining. Your mother was in pain, Daria. She needed to be comforted;
she needed to be held. Is it right that she be punished for a moment of
weakness? Should she suffer for the rest of her life?"
The
man turned, the water splashing slightly as he walked across the lake's surface
towards Daria. "Can you let your father look in your eyes again, knowing
that what he will see there now is not the gaze of a proud, intelligent
daughter, but the image of the love of his life - in the arms of another man?
You will forever be the living embodiment of his failure as a husband, as a
father, as a man. Can you do that to him?"
"He
doesn't know," Daria echoed tonelessly. "He doesn't have to know
-"
"The
keeping of a secret? Hiding the truth? This from Daria 'My Principles Stand
Above Everything Else' Morgendorffer?"
the man scoffed. "Oh, I misspoke myself again - shouldn't that be
Daria SMYTHE? From what I gather, that's the correct surname... intelligent,
cool, unconnected or seemingly unconcerned with family, especially the ones who
really care - but, like father, like daughter."
The
man knelt down to face her. "And do you really believe Kate Cullen will
allow your father the peace of mind that comes with ignorance? To a woman like
her, what your birth parents did is described in three words - ACT OF WAR.
She's got a new avenue to unleash her own pain and rage upon, now that she's
rediscovered your mother and learned of YOUR existence. Oh, yes, Jake
Morgendorffer will find out soon enough - and then, you'll see what
devastation a TRULY unstable emotional landscape can produce. Count on it."
She
felt the cool hardness of the blade in her hands, and the gossamer softness of
the man's voice in her ears. "But you can stave off the pain for them all.
If you're not there, Daria - there'll be no need for revelation, or
accusations, or just pure, uncut pain, fresh as harvest day. If you're gone -
no others will have to know. Just a touch... and then another... and then, you can
let go, Daria. You can let go of the
pain, because no one deserves to live in the hurt alone. I know how hard it's
been for you. It doesn't have to be that way anymore. You can rest now."
Daria
felt about the contours of the blade, feeling the ridges, the rounding curves,
the perfect edge of the blade. It was sharp beyond belief; just one touch, with
hardly any pressure, and then she could just lie back... No more 'cousin', no
more aches from the petty comments of casual strangers who only saw 'the
glasses', no more reflexive lashing out, knowing that hurting others was only
slightly worse then letting them get close enough to cause pain -
And
then there was Trent.
It
hurt to hear his voice but it hurt even more when she didn't, and then, there
was Lynn - would she be better for him? She had already done more and helped
him in ways Daria knew she never could. Lynn didn't care about his future as a
musical star, just his future as a musician and as a person; she had provided
him inspiration and demanded the perspiration that comes from plain, simple,
honest work. Lynn fought for Trent; she had battled against the other members
of Mystic Spiral, against the feelings of depression and worthlessness that
Trent had felt on occasion, against the bad impressions others had of him and
his band, and even against her own affections for him. The reason was a simple
one - Trent and his music were a worthwhile cause, and she'd make something
worth being out of him... even if she had to kill one of them (Max, probably) to
make a point to the others. Plain and simply put, Trent was a better musician because
of Lynn; she was his Linda McCarthy, while Daria could only be his Yoko
Ono. Lynn was someone Trent could turn to; he could expose his soul and have
his emotions returned without reservation; Daria knew that, regardless of her
feelings, she would always hold back from giving herself fully to anyone.
Could
she say those words? Lynn was a primordial force in human form; no person who
held a place in her heart would ever need to hear a declaration of love
from her. She would stand before the eyes of all that lived, however, and say
the words - partly because she would want to say them, and partly to let
EVERYONE know a simple truth: 'This person is a part of me. I love this person.
If you value life, turn and walk away - now.'
She
honestly could not say that she could do the same.
Lynn
would make a fine addition to the traveling road show known as the Lane family,
fitting right in and making sure that, first and foremost, the Lanes would
always HAVE a home - seeing how they nearly lost it once before. She'd make an
incredible aunt, a wife and mother that others would both dream of and dread
having, and a daughter-in-law that parents would joyfully welcome into the
family - after they ran her through the weapons-scanner, metal detector, and
X-ray machine...
How
then, Daria asked herself, could she make a claim to him - to anyone? How could
she be there for them, when the compulsion within her to draw away from even
their good impressions of her was as natural to her as drawing breath? How
could she know what Lynn already knew of Trent? How could she ever experience
being in his arms, with the feel of his skin and his warmth and his breath and
just give herself over to sensation, to emotion, to just something as simple as
pleasure - when she knew that the walls within her would never fall,
fortified by the mortar of her own resentment and fear?
It
would be the easiest thing to do - for everyone involved. Just a single touch
there, like a kiss, really, or how other women spritzed a touch of perfume... One
single movement... it could all be gone, just like that -
The
blade dropped into the water.
"Why?"
the man asked, without anger, or defeat, just a polite curiosity, as if he were
asking if that sandwich was served with mayo or Dijon. "Why?"
"You
wanted me to let go of the pain," Daria said, "but sometimes, when
there's nothing else, the pain is there. It's my pain. It belongs to me. It
doesn't matter where it comes from or why; just the fact that it's there lets
me know that I'm still here - and that I feel something. No one has the
right to take it away - or ask me to - until I'm ready to let go. After all, it's the one thing that makes me
feel..."
Daria
lifted her head, and gave the man one of her trademark, 'Mona Lisa' smirks of
victory.
"It's
what makes me a member of the human race, after all."
"You
understand what you are saying."
"I'm
a cynic," she replied. "I believe that the sun will come out
tomorrow. I don't believe that any one person needs to be here to see it."
"Well
spoken. Granted."
Daria
suddenly found herself in the tub in her bathroom! Sputtering, coughing and
soaking wet, she hauled herself fully dressed from the tub and began to pull
off her clothes!
Moments
later, Daria was dressed in a bathrobe as she wiped her glasses clean. She
yawned as she put them back on, stretched herself fully - and froze at the
sight of the dagger, lying peacefully at the bottom of the water.
The
sound of Daria's vomiting echoed through her room.
*****
"Jeez,
Daria - you sound like hell. Did you have another one of those whacked-out
dreams?"
"I
don't know how you manage not to."
"Well,
sometimes I'm lucky enough to sleep the dreamless sleep of the immorally sated
-"
"And
sometimes you raid your dad's personal stash of Captain Morgan," Daria
deadpanned. "I don't know how you
do it."
"Is
it MY fault the current light of your life wants to play with computer buttons
instead of yours? Now, if you had chosen Trent..."
"Ha,
ha, Lane. One day, you, too, shall be on the Chihuahua list."
"Look,
if you're dreams are THAT bad, we'll see about talking to Dr. Phillips later
today and getting some tranquilizers.
"Yeah,
well, see you later."
"Daria."
"Yes,
Jane?"
"One
- I'm glad you're not up in the hospital, too. Two - get some sleep."
A
small smile went across Daria's face. "Thanks, Jane."
Daria
hung up the phone, and picked up the dagger. It was surprisingly light for
something of its size, and the craftsmanship, now that she had a chance to look
at it, was spectacular. Maybe tomorrow,
she'd invite Jane over to look at it.
She
tossed the dagger over onto the table - and whirled around when she realized
that she didn't hear it hit! "Just stopping by to pick up things,"
the man said, replacing the dagger in a sheath. "I won't see you for a
long while. "
"Is
that all you have to say?" Daria snarled.
"What
else is there? I showed you the way to your true potential. You are worth more
to those around you than they, and sometimes you yourself, give you credit
for," the man said. "All you have to do to obtain that potential - is
live. Not just exist, but live. You have won the right to know that - and to
have another new day to explore."
"You
make this sound like 'A Christmas Carol'. "I told you before: I'm not a
guardian angel," the man said, straightening his coat as he went over to
the window and looked at the blister of light just at the edge of the horizon.
"and my aims are slightly different."
"Who
are you?"
"That's
the question asked by the other side, Daria. I told you before; my purview is
personal development and fulfillment. I asked you what you wanted. "
He
turned back towards the window, and a glorious smile crossed his face as the
first rays of sunlight exploded over the horizon to signal the new day's
arrival. "I have never failed to be moved by something so simple as the
rising of the sun," the man said. "I can think of no other symbol
that better represents the creature which is Man. "
The
man turned back to face Daria. "Enjoy this moment, Daria. As you said
before, it is one that you are fortunate to enjoy once more - and there are
those out there who may never know this moment again."
The
man started towards the door, and Daria took a step towards him. "You're
just another figment of my imagination, aren't you? After you leave, I'm
supposed to wake up and say, 'Oh, it's all just a dream - I'm so lucky that
that's all it was, and I do have a wonderful life, after all? Merry Christmas,
and God bless us, every one?"
Daria
adjusted her glasses on her nose. "You're a dream. Go away now,
dream-angel."
The
man stopped, and a nimbus of pure white light began to flow from him - a flow
that seemed to build and grow into a presence of its own. "I allow you
this: I am an angel, but not a Guardian... I am of the Light - and I am the one
who casts the greatest of Shadows."
The
Light grew even more intense, and Daria could barely make out a form within - a
perfectly-defined human form, with a pair of wings that seemed to cast even
more light of their own. "Be true
to who you are, and to what you believe," the voice brushed against her,
as if it were a form of its own. "Do not let anyone change who you are or
allow you to forget, no matter how hard they - and you yourself, may someday
try. You are who you are, Daria Morgendorffer. In that way, you serve My
purpose... and you serve My purpose well. Farewell."
And
the Light began yet another day.
-
END -
AUTHOR'S
NOTES:
Well,
there you have it - my first foray into the waters of Daria fan fiction.
Actually, this is my first COMPLETED fanfic - I've two stand-alone pieces that
may see the light of day some day. I've been reading Daria materials for about
a year and a half now, and I've seen some incredible stuff that made me say,
"Hey! I'd like to get in on this!" I've had a few misfires, and then,
there's the screenplays and TV episodes I'm also working on - One has to eat,
even if it's from the local bag o' grease... The big 'click' that really got me
going was the introduction of Lynn Cullen to the Daria multiverse. Finally -
someone to play off Daria, someone with her equivalent skills and wit, someone
who's going to give her pause every now and then. (Personally, I'd love to see someone come up with an adversary
for Daria - a REAL adversary and not someone like Sandi, who really couldn't
handle Daria if Daria ever got fed up and said, "All right - gloves
off!")
You
see, one of the things that I really like about Daria (and I have Lynn state
somewhat the same) is that, like Ally McBeal - sometimes, I really can't stand
her. On occasion, Daria makes it entirely too hard on herself and the people
around her - even when her principles wouldn't be compromised. I wanted to keep
that flavor of Daria, though - especially after reading the rant 'Partner's
Complaint' and agreeing that yes, a Daria that wasn't cynical and sarcastic
wasn't really Daria after all - but how to make a scenario that allowed me to
'keep her real', face up to both the good and bad portions of her personality,
and yet make her wonder if she does need to make some changes?
Hence,
'the man'. Throughout the piece, he never lies to Daria in illuminating the
facets of who she is. He says he's there to help her find out who she is and
what she wants. And as the saying goes - be careful of what you ask for...
Next
on the list: several things that may be of contention. Here goes:
-
Daria Doesn't Seem
To Be Herself Today: Going through, I noticed several points - particularly
near the end - where Our Heroine doesn't have the world-beating sarcasm machine
out and running. I think that, with everything that's happened to and around
her (look at the last six episodes of TLAS - the soap-opera gods have it in for
her!), Daria would eventually lose that protection of sarcasm and rely on her
core essence - which is, of course, what saves her.
-
Who's The Man? : The
identity of 'the man', who acts as Daria's guide, should be evident by the last
scene, where I have him give his real identity (and not the one most persons
know him by). I give several clues throughout the piece; a No-Prize to the
person who can list and identify all the clues - AND their origin.
-
The Intervention: I
felt it was important for a number of persons, who see Daria from very
different points of view, to tell Daria that they feel the same way about her.
I mean, when you have Upchuck, the Gupty brats, Amanda Lane and Mr. DeMartino
saying the same basic things about Daria - that she's an incredible person - it
should mean something to her. It doesn't - she rejects their praise because of
her own self-view, which leads to -
-
Should We Wash Out
Lynn's Mouth With Soap, Or Just Use Valium? : Canadibrit (who kindly gave this
piece a once-over) brought up some good points on the matter of how the others
in TFJM would react to Daria's outburst. AP would be deeply hurt, and Jane
would also hurt but expect that reaction (it's happened before -check out
'Relation-Slips' if you don't believe me). Lynn, however, would have the human
equivalent of a warp-core breach - and take Daria with her. Lynn is justified
in her anger, because she accepts Daria as family like Quinn never has - and
for Daria to doubt her for a second is absolute betrayal. She'd also use
foul language, because as angry and vicious Daria can get - she's barely a
candle flame compared to the nova that's Lynn. We KNOW Lynn has no problem with
bad words (Season I, Episode 6).
-
On The Dark Side:
One thing that some may wonder; why was the man trying to push Daria into
committing suicide? The answer is simple-he wasn't! To paraphrase the Emperor
in the novel 'Shadows Of The Empire', Daria has the potential to be of great
service, but there are obstacles to be overcome. She should be able to overcome
them on her own - and if she can't, then she is of no use anyway. To use
another 'Star Wars' analogy, Daria is very strong in the Force - but there is
much fear to be sensed within her. Fear leads to anger... you get the idea.
Simply put, this was all a test - one to get her to confront her darkest
emotions, and then, harness them. I've always felt that a Daria who isn't
cynical or sarcastic isn't Daria, as others have also said - but a Daria who
embraces those concepts is skirting the Dark Side...
-
MTV-Savvy Daria:
This alternate reality, for Our Heroine, is Hell. I couldn't think of anything
worse for Daria than selling out, taking down hundreds of thousands of people
with her, and willingly making successes, heroes and icons out of people that
she has no respect for. Embracing Ms. Li as a mother figure, becoming more
Quinn than her sister ever was, using her skills to create mind-numbing garbage
AND aware of what she's doing - oh, yeah, she's in Hell. If nothing else -
having 'Let's give up some love for - LAWNDALE PRIDE!' come out of the
other-Daria's mouth should show that she's in hell. And when I say 'Hell', I
don't mean 'hell'
- I mean, 'HELL!' One thing,
though - I stand by the argument 'the man' makes. Daria does want to be liked
and admired - and in the right circumstances, we would all sell our souls.
-
The 'Chihuahua
List': More on this later. You'll like it.
-
'Method 26': I
wanted to show just how far Lynn would take it if she were pushed, but this isn't
the fanfic for that. However, in the alternate reality, she had motive,
opportunity, and a lot of time. Lots of it. Let's hope the REAL Lynn never gets
pushed that far...
-
Suicide Is Not The
Answer: This piece was never about suicide. Let me make this clear: SUICIDE
DOES NOT HELP ANYONE. IT WILL NOT MAKE ANY PROBLEMS GO AWAY. IT IS NOT, AND
NEVER WILL BE, A VIABLE ALTERNATIVE TO COUNSELING, OR THERAPY, OR SIMPLY
TALKING TO SOMEONE WHO CAN HELP. DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT.
There
are a couple of writers whose works I've touched upon in this fanfic, and
thanks are in order. Thanks go out to Kara Wild, whose 'That Thing You Say'
provided dialogue which gave an added chill to the 'lake scene', to C.E.
Forman, who had the Lanes nearly lose Casa Lane to the IRS cockatrices, and to
that wonderful writer (whose name escapes me) who came up with the name/term
'nibblett'. May your fingers fly quickly and true across your keyboards, and
may you not hear others screech your name until your next paragraph is done.
I
would also be without honor if I failed to mention the Glenn and the Susie, who
created the world of Our Heroine, and of course, the astonishingly and
annoyingly over-talented Canadibrit, who created the alternate reality we know
as 'The Look-Alike Series.' To the three of you; thank you very much for giving
me a fun place to play, and people like Daria & Lynn to play with. I'll try
not to embarrass any of you.
If
anyone wants to send their opinions, tips, hints, words of encouragement, or
reasons why my laptop should take a meteor strike, you can e-mail me at brothergrimace@yahoo.com.
Just remember: Kindness works, and be gentle. Someday, you, too, shall be
sending your first child out into the world - hopefully not to be met by
someone wearing logging boots.
June
4, 2000