_The Look-Alike Series_ Daria fan fiction by Canadibrit Season 2, episode 13: "Liaisons" (season [at least] finale) prose adaptation by Austin Loomis ACT I: TURN YOU INSIDE OUT "Can everyone agree that no one should be left alone? Can everyone agree that they should not be left alone?" -- Filter, "Take a Picture" Upstairs at 15 Glenview Road, a lump of bedding suggested Lynn Cullen's presence in her Chamber of Dark Mysteriousness. A rapping could be heard at the window, and the lump shifted. Louder rapping produced a low groan from inside the lump. A voice muffled by the covers, but withal sounding like Lynn's, muttered, "A.P., go 'way...it's too early in the morning and we played a late gig last night..." The rapping became louder and more insistent. Lynn groaned again, then untangled herself from the bedding, grabbed her glasses from the bedside table and moved to the window. "Damn late night gigs," she muttered as she put on her glasses, "damn checking on miserable friends at three in the morning and damn Psycho-Mavericks too...One of these days, A.P...." She flung the curtains open -- and stepped back, a little surprised. Jane Lane, looking tired, pale and fretful, was looking in at her from her perch on the ivy trellis outside the window. Lynn flung the window proper open and helped Jane in. "Yo," said Jane. "Something wrong with the doorbell? Or the door itself?" "I've seen A.P. do this and thought I'd try it out." Lynn looked closely at Jane. "But after a long, fraught, sleepless night?" Jane had the good grace to look sheepish. "Yeah...well..." Lynn sighed wearily. "Come on; I'll break out the Turkish coffee." She remembered *why* Jane's night had been so fraught and sleepless -- the dispute of the last couple of days, between the two Jacketeers who'd known each other longest. "Did you want to talk and plan out what you're going to say to Daria, or did you want me to distract you?" "Distract me -- I've been thinking about that all night..." "Okay, but be prepared for information overload. I'm mapping out project of the year for 2000 and I could use a sounding board." Jane gave a weary shrug and followed Lynn out of the room. * * * In the morning, Andrew Philip McIntyre -- the same A.P. from whom Lynn had thought she was getting a late-night visit -- slammed cheerfully out of the house, then stopped short, bemused, when he saw Daria Morgendorffer, his girlfriend or the next best thing to it, perched on the curb. "Isn't McIntyre Manor a bit out of your way? -- Not that I'm not happy to see you," he hastily added. "I just...wanted some company this morning," she replied quietly. "Cool!" he rejoiced. So was there anything you wanted to talk about?" Erudite Emerald quirked an eyebrow. "No...but I can tell *you* have an idea or two..." He grinned one of his devious grins. * * * As they walked down the halls of Lawndale High, Jane looked at Lynn strangely. "Only you would consider spending the best part of your year cataloguing the merits and drawbacks to various acts of violence." "Hey, I'm unique," Lynn announced proudly. "I had the most fun with blows to the head. Did you know that the same blow that would just stun you if it landed here," she touched the back of her head, "can kill you if it lands here?" She tapped her temples. "There are days that you really scare me, Lynn. This is one of them." "It's a gift. And it's true, anyway. The temples are the weakest point..." "...mainly because of the length of the barrel," A.P. continued as he and Daria proceeded down another corridor. "He'd have been better off with a shotgun at that range. And anyway, he was insane with fear. He couldn't have hit the broad side of a barn." "So you're telling me," Daria summed up the discourse on Quentin Tarantino's _Pulp Fiction_, "that the fact that Jules and Vincent didn't get shot in the apartment scene was no miracle." "Exactly!" They rounded a corner...and saw Jane and Lynn, who spotted them at the same time and broke off their conversation. Both pairs kept walking, but Lynn sped up a little and A.P. hung back so that Lynn came to A.P.'s side, a few feet behind them, just as Daria faced Jane. Lynn and A.P. watched as Daria and Jane just looked at each other for a moment. Daria was the first to speak, in a very hesitant way. "Hey." Jane seemed equally reluctant. "Yo." She took a moment to gather herself. "I..." Suddenly a gunshot rang out, and A.P. dropped, yelling and clutching his arm. Daria and Jane wheeled in shock, but Lynn, rage evident in her face, turned and flung herself at a door across the corridor -- where the gunshot had come from. The door shut...and after a very brief silence, they all clearly heard the sound of a turning lock. Daria turned to Jane. "Go to the office. Get them to call for help. Then find a first aid kit." "But I can't just leave you," Jane insisted. "You're the fastest of us. Now *go!*" Jane hesitated a second longer, then sprinted off. Daria went to help A.P. * * * Lynn stood with her back to the door of the classroom, easing her hand away from the doorknob and making no sudden moves. For a very brief moment, her face clearly said _oh, I just did a very dumb thing_, but then she regained her composure and addressed the shooter. "I think you'll find, if you think about it, that your main problem here is with me. So you just leave them out of this." The woman Lynn was addressing just stood there, casually dressed, holding a small pistol in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. She looked a bit dishevelled; you'd have had to look in her eyes to realize that she was completely insane. "I swore I'd see you all hanged for what you did to me..." sneered Angela Li, former principal of Lawndale High. She aimed the pistol, and Lynn tensed, stepping forward in an attack stance. * * * Out in the hall, a knot of onlookers had gathered around Daria and A.P. Daria was helping A.P. to his feet; one arm of his jacket was soaked in blood. "It's not bad," he winced. "I think it's just a graze." There was another gunshot, followed by the sound of breaking glass. The onlookers fled in panic, but Daria and A.P. stayed frozen for a moment. Then A.P. threw himself at the door and rattled the doorknob. "*Lynn?*" he hollered, hammering on the door. Daria panicked. "A.P., don't..." * * * Inside the classroom, Lynn, still standing between Ms. Li and the door, was trying to wrest the baseball bat from her opponent. The gun lay forgotten to one side. "Get *out* of here, you morons!" Lynn shouted over her shoulder. "She's gone nuts!" A tactical error, as it turned out. Li took advantage of Lynn's moment of distraction to grab the bat and make an awkward swing at the Purple Peril's head. The blow, amazingly, connected, and Lynn dropped like a rock. Li knelt down and wrapped her hands around Lynn's throat... * * * A.P. was now trying to force the door with a laminated library card, as Daria watched in fear. Jane came running back to them, with Anthony DeMartino hot on her heels. Daria doubted any Lawndale High student had ever been so happy to see Mr. D. "You're bleeding, McIntyre..." DeMartino almost unnecessarily remarked. The library card snapped in half. A.P. made a frustrated choking noise, tossed the remaining piece aside and then threw his uninjured shoulder at the door, bouncing off and wincing. As he backed up for another try, the Cyclops joined him in a charging stance. * * * Ms. Li was cheerfully throttling Lynn when the door burst open and A.P. and DeMartino staggered in, caught off-balance. Li startled, releasing Lynn, and grabbed for the gun. She then stood, the gun trained on the new arrivals. There was a moment of silence -- a clear stalemate -- then she spoke. "You're not going to stop me..." DeMartino was even more furious than usual. "Angela, *control* yourself!" Li sounded desperate. "You *won't* stop me! I was *promised* this!" Lynn, staggering slightly, loomed up behind her -- evidently, she'd been playing possum. She grabbed a double handful of the Nazi Jackboot's hair and yanked hard. Li screamed in pain, dropped -- nearly tossed -- the gun and lashed out blindly with a fist that caught Lynn a hard blow to the side of the head. Lynn fell, striking her temple on the edge of a desk before hitting the floor. Ms. Li advanced on her... and then a final gunshot rang out and Angela Li fell dead, shot through the heart. "Oh, Jesus..." Jane breathed from the doorway. Daria, Jane and A.P. all stared in shock at Mr. DeMartino, who was holding the smoking pistol in the two-handed grip of a master marksman. "You have *no* idea how *good* that felt..." he observed. "I might," Daria replied blandly. A.P. moved first, running over to Lynn and checking for a pulse. In a shaky voice, he reported, "Oh damn..." Jane approached with the first aid kit. Daria stepped over to DeMartino, put a hand on each of his forearms, and gently made him lower the gun. In the stunned, horrified silence, they could all hear a distant siren. ACT 2: THE PERFECT DREAM "Many men are born blind and only realize it the day some overwhelming truth tears their eyes open." -- _The Infernal Machine_ (English translation of Jean Cocteau's _La machine infernelle_) In the main reception area at Cedars of Lawndale, Daria and Jane sat side by side on a bench. Daria's eyes were wide and blank, and Jane was visibly worried about her. A.P. sat on a chair a short distance away, his bloody jacket in his lap and his shirt sleeve rolled up to show a bandage on his upper arm; he was trembling and very pale. Daria spoke, far more flatly than usual. "Maybe we should have said something about Operation Ace of Spades when giving our statements?" "No point," Jane assured her. "Why dig ourselves a hole?" Daria nodded slightly, acknowledging the point. There was some more silence for a few moments, then Daria went on. "We were talking... before this started." Jane was starting to get worried. "Yeah...we were." "It seems kind of pointless to hold a grudge about something so stupid. Life's too short." That reminder only made Jane sad. "Yeah. Yeah, it is." "You were right. You *are* a damn good friend. I'm sorry for suggesting otherwise." "Me too, Daria." Daria held out a hand. "All right then." Jane looked at the hand for a moment. "To hell with that." She grabbed Daria in an impulsive hug. Daria didn't resist, but she didn't exactly respond either. After a moment, Jane noticed this, pulled back and looked at her friend, the worry in her face (and behind it) deeper now. After a moment, Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer rushed in and headed straight for her daughter. "Sweetie, are you all right? They called at work and said...If that -- that *witch* laid so much as a *hand* on you I'll..." "I'm okay, Mom," Daria insisted. "Really. I..." "They wanted a family member to take her home," Jane explained in an undertone. "She's in shock." Helen became concerned. "Oh, Sweetie..." She sat next to Daria and hugged her. "Mom...please...I'll be fine," Daria protested. A.P. got up and walked unsteadily out. Helen, still holding Daria, turned to Jane. "Now, what happened?" Jane shrugged. "Ms. Li broke out of jail somehow. She came after us...but it looked like she was mainly after Lynn. Mr. DeMartino shot her, so we may never know how she got out or why she attacked us." "That's the Lynn girl that nearly got expelled last year?" Jane nodded, and Helen's eyes narrowed. "Blaming one student for losing that ...that concentration camp she calls a school. The woman was clearly out of her mind." Something occurred to her. "Does this Mr. DeMartino need legal help? It isn't my jurisdiction but..." "But you can get him someone, right." Jane thought a moment. "I doubt he'd say no." Daria shrugged Helen's arms off and got up. "Daria..." "Just...going to check on A.P.," Daria assured them, and exited under the worried gazes of her mother and best friend. * * * Outside the hospital, A.P. was sitting on the lawn, staring into the middle distance. Daria joined him. "Any news yet?" he asked. Daria half-shrugged. "Nothing anyone's willing to divulge to anyone but a family member." She had a thought. "What are you doing out here?" "I'm on the lookout for Lynn's mom. Assuming Kate left as soon as I called and used the full force of her delightful personality on the airline staff, she should be here soon. I thought she might want to have her fit outdoors for the safety of the patients and staff." "Right." Then another thought. "Did anyone contact the rest of her family?" "I called Lorna. She'll tell Jan. Can't think of anyone else in her family who'd give a damn." Daria frowned. Sure, Lynn's aunt and cousin ought to be the first ones told, but... "What about her father?" That elicited a brief, mirthless chuckle. "You've got to be kidding. He hasn't sent so much as a birthday card in nearly nine years. He used to visit, write, call...then when she was nine or so, he just stopped." A.P. got distant, as if lost in memory. "It hit her hard -- they were close until then. She was never the same after that." "But even so...she *is* his daughter. He'd at least want to know if Lynn's..." A.P. sighed. "Yeah, you're right." He thought it over, then came to a conclusion. "I'll try Lorna again. She's pretty clueless, but she might at least know where her own brother is. If not..." He shrugged as best he could with one shoulder aching. "...how hard can a Jerome Peregrine Smythe be to find?" Daria felt mice with cold feet start running up and down her spine as the last pieces of the puzzle arranged themselves. This was what she'd been trying to remember ever since something in her mother's story had set alarm bells ringing at the back of her mind. Longer than that, actually. If this meant what she thought, then the whole thing had been building from the beginning of the school year, from the day Jane had called out to the stranger she thought was her best friend. No, that was going too far in the other direction. Oh, the facts remained the same, but they'd only started to assemble themselves for her perusal after Thanksgiving, when Lynn had related the story of a Cullen family Turkey Day in Ohio, and the tradition of waiting for... _The Smythe?_ _One of dad's relations,_ Lynn had explained. _Mom wouldn't let either of us keep his name after he ran off to Portugal._ And then Daria'd met Jan when they were in England for the last week or two of December. _Oh yeah,_ Lynn's Canadian-born cousin had asked, _how's Kate anyway?_ Lynn had pleaded with her. _Please let's not bring my mother into this. I'm on vacation._ And finally (well, penultimately), Helen's long-deferred account of the circumstances under which she'd conceived her elder daughter. _...I met Jerome...Kate -- that was his wife..._ There was more -- Jane's comment on Lynn's first day, about _First you're the Olsen Twins, then you're the Mowery Sisters_; Jan's initial mistaking Daria for Lynn (an almost-amusing reversal of the usual state of affairs at Lawndale High), with the comment _Does she ever resemble you!_; the fact that Lynn was three months older than Daria, and Kate had been three months pregnant at the time her husband decided to sleep with another man's wife -- but all that was merely corroborative detail, giving verisimilitude to what struck Daria, even though it seemed to be happening to her, as a rather bald and unconvincing narrative. She was hardly aware of asking, "Her dad's named *Jerome?*" Nor did she notice the nervous way in which A.P. replied, "Yeah..." She got up and headed for the hospital to get confirmation of the last detail, from the only person who could provide it. A.P. watched her go for a moment, then went back to his vigil. * * * Helen was in the reception area, sitting alone. She was just getting up when Daria entered. "Sweetie, why don't you come home and..." Daria didn't have time for that. "Your lover in the Catskills -- what was his full name; do you know?" Helen was, not to put too fine a point on it, thrown for a loop. "What? Daria..." "This is important, Mom. Your old lover -- my biological father -- what...was...his...full...*name?*" Helen thought a moment. "Jerome P. Smythe -- and I have no idea what the P stands for; he wouldn't tell me. Daria, I don't..." So. It was true. Daria, beyond shock now, sank into a chair. "Forget V.C. Andrews. Today, my life became _General Hospital_." Helen sounded genuinely fearful. "Daria, you're not making any sense." Daria looked at her mother for a moment, considering the best way to put this. She finally decided to start at the beginning and let the chips fall where they might. "Mom..." Just then, a woman Daria'd never seen before, but whom she knew instantly, barged in. She looked to be the same age that Helen would admit to -- about 40 -- and was sensibly dressed in an emerald-green suit with black trim. She had Helen's coloring, but Ms. Li's hairstyle, and a rounder face. At the moment, that face was the same really weird shade of maroon that Lynn's turned when she was mad as hell, providing another confirmation of her identity. Helen looked over and went very pale, which was another still. The new arrival barged up to the desk, grabbed hold of a passing nurse, pulled her so they were nearly nose to nose, and began giving orders. "Lynn Jaquenetta Cullen -- my daughter -- was brought here this morning. I want the doctor in charge of her case here with a report of her condition and a *damn* good excuse for why *no one* has been told *anything* about how she is AND I WANT HIM *NOW*, ARE WE *CLEAR*?" The terrified nurse gave a nod. The woman released her, and the nurse ran for her life. Helen was still staring at the woman, utter shock written on her face. Daria looked from the new arival to Helen and back again; this confirmed everything for her. It was almost anti-climactic when Helen, in a voice of utter disbelief, put a name to it by breathing, "Kate..." ACT 3: GONE AWAY? "Because I'm somewhere in between My love and my agony You see I'm somewhere in between My life is falling to pieces Somebody put me together!" -- Faith No More, "Falling to Pieces" Kate Cullen, who for a few years had been Kate Smythe, wheeled and looked at Helen, and her rage turned to shock, then very quickly went to a cold fury. "Helen." She took a moment to decide how best to lead off the shouting match. "Ambulance chasing paying off?" Daria raised an eyebrow. "I see where Lynn gets the temper from, anyway." Kate lividly rounded on her. "And what's *that* supposed to..." Then she got her first good look at her latest interlocutor. She stared at the girl, stunned -- then she looked from Daria to Helen and back again. Helen decided to make introductions. "Kate; my daughter..." That was the wrong tack to take. "You had his *child?*" "I..." "You had the unparalleled *gall* to have *my* husband's *child?* And you passed her off as your *own* husband's spawn, didn't you?" Daria decided to try and get their attention before this turned ugly. "Excuse me..." Too late. "You were ruthless enough to seduce another woman's husband but not ruthless enough to abort the resultant bastard, is that it?" *That* did it. Very calmly, Daria stood up, stepped over to Kate, and backhanded her across the face hard enough to knock her to the floor. In tones so cold they could have been used to store donor organs, she reiterated, "*Excuse* me. Shouldn't you be more worried about your *own* daughter than the parentage of hers? She punctuated the sentence with a gesture to Helen and walked away without waiting for a reply, leaving the two women to stare after her. * * * Jane was sitting at a table in the Cedars of Lawndale cafeteria, looking glumly at a cup of coffee. A.P. staggered in, bearing more coffee, and stood at the head of the table Jane was at, looking at her blankly. After an uncertain moment, he said, "Um...hey ho, Art-Smart Scarlet." Jane looked up at him with concern. "Oh, sit down before you *fall* down, A.P." A.P. took her advice, and there was a moment of silence before he continued. "Things got kind of weird out in reception when Kate showed up." "How do you mean, weird?" "Well, I kind of only caught the tail end of it -- I was outside. But when I got there, Kate was picking herself up off the floor and her face was all red like she'd been hit. Helen was looking at Kate like she was the spawn of Satan or something..." "Is that really that far off?" "No," A.P. replied viciously, "I'd say that's pretty much right. But how would Helen know?" He shrugged his good shoulder. "Anyway, then Kate started yelling about suing Daria for harassment and Helen yelled about counter-suing on grounds of defamation of character and then Kate called Helen a whoring opportunist and then security had to be called. Things are getting weird." "Have you seen Daria?" "She came looking for me while I was outside. She went a bit weird on me and then took off and I haven't seen her since." Jane rolled her eyes. "You've got to work on eloquence, A.P. I'm really worried about her and all you can say is `she went a bit weird'? She's been acting a bit weird for weeks anyway! Elaborate!" A.P. thought a moment. "Well..." Jane's older brother Trent entered, looking around a little wildly until he spotted Jane, at which point he came running over to their table. "You okay, Janey? The hospital called. They said..." "I'm fine, Trent," she assured him. "Daria sent me to get help when the shooting started." This met with a slight smile. "That's typical Daria." Then he got worried again. "Where is she, anyway? I mean, she's not..." "No, Trent, she's not." "So who got hurt? If you guys look like that, *someone*..." A.P. could hardly credit his ears. "I don't believe he's even asking this," he snapped. "A.P., calm down..." Jane pleaded. "*Not a chance in hell!*" He sounded downright nasty as he went on. "Do the math, Sir Naps-a-Lot. If I'm here, and Jane's here, and Daria's unhurt, and we all look like we're about to lose our best friend, who's left?" Trent sensed he'd really messed up. "Damn. I'm an idiot." "Thank you for saving me the trouble of saying it." Jane was starting to get all peeved. "A.P., lay off him!" "Why the hell should I? He's been dishing out this sort of crap to *me* -- mostly behind my back -- for months and I haven't said anything, but right now, the last thing I can make myself do is be is patient with some *jack-off* of a musician who doesn't even ask if his band's singer is still alive and can't even get my *name* right!" He got up and ran out. Jane and Trent looked at each other. "Aw, man..." Trent rasped. "He kind of had a point," Jane allowed as. "I mean, you *still* haven't asked how Lynn is." Trent sighed. "Hey, lay off, Janey, I just woke up." Jane raised an eyebrow and Trent lowered his head. "Well, maybe you shouldn't feel too bad. If you *had* asked, he probably would have yelled just for the sake of it. There isn't actually any news, but she was unconscious when she was brought in." "Oh. Damn. Why...no. I don't even want to know." A brief pause. "So now what? I mean, are flowers right for something like this?" "I don't know, Trent -- this is the first time I've had to think about it." "How are you coping?" She sighed. "I'm coping. Just. I don't think the others are, though. I mean, you saw A.P." He nodded with a slightly shamed look. "And Daria...well, Daria was already a bit quiet -- like something was bothering her -- *before* this happened. Now...well, I'm worried about her." "You talked to her?" "We only just apologized to each other. I don't think I can pry." Trent raised an eyebrow, patted Jane's shoulder and got up. "I don't think *you* should pry either!" "Well, who else?" Jane looked downcast. Trent gave her a slightly guilty look and went. * * * Daria was sitting on a bench in a hallway, looking pale and fragile, when Trent approached cautiously and sat beside her. "Hey, Daria." She sounded more morose than usual. "Hey. What are you doing here?" "The hospital called. They didn't want Janey going home alone. Because of the shock or something." A pause for thought. "Um...a question like, `are you okay?' would be..." "One with a pretty obvious answer." "Yeah. Sorry." "It's okay." A pause. "I wondered about...I don't know...bringing flowers. Purple ones -- you know. I thought I'd ask someone first." "And you asked me?" "Well, I can't go anywhere near Lynn's mom because Lynn told me how she feels about her daughter being in a rock band. A.P. can't stand the sight of me. And Janey didn't know." Daria had to think. "Well...from what little I know, she doesn't like the idea of cut flowers. Something about leaving them alive to keep the planet in oxygen." She turned gloomy again. "Anyway, last I heard, she was still unconscious -- so she can't actually see them." Now it was Trent's turn to get downcast. "Oh. Right." "It was a nice thought, though." That heartened him. "Thanks, Daria." Another pause, then, "Janey's...kind of worried about you." "I know." Yet another pause. Trent raised an eyebrow at Daria, inviting her to elaborate, but she didn't. "...Um...maybe...you want to...talk about it?" "I...don't know what to say. Or how talking is going to help anything." Trent thought it over. "Sometimes...it's like writing a song, you know? Having it out in the open...makes it smaller. So you can wrestle it better. Know your enemy, sort of. Easier to handle it that way." For a moment, Daria was silent, weighing her words. Trent looked expectant, then slightly disappointed. Then, slowly, Daria began to speak. "I just...don't believe what she did." She seemed lost a moment, remembering. "I've gone over the scene in my mind; it's almost like I was there. She went into that classroom knowing there was a maniac with a gun in there; she locked herself in to buy us time. I thought I heard her say something about `leave them out of it', and I know I heard her yelling at us to get out of harm's way. I think about that -- about what that got her -- and I feel about three inches high." "Daria..." he started to sympathize. She wasn't finished. "And even now, I catch myself thinking `damn her anyway, for being brave and self-sacrificing when I'm not.' And then I think that...if she dies...damnation is an option and..." She stifled a sniff. "...and I feel really...cruel..." In that moment, it all became officially too much. Over the past few weeks, she'd discovered that a fair chunk of her family history was a lie, had some fairly disturbing experiences and one hell of a nasty dream, and now she'd found out that a good friend was actually the sister she didn't know she had. And, to top the whole thing off, for all she knew, she might never get to tell Lynn the truth about their relationship. On Christmas Day, Lynn had retreated to the balcony to have a cry when Kate had given her custody of the Mercedes. She'd seen it as weakness, relative to Daria, who she was sure would never cry in front of anyone. Daria had seen it the other way around. Right now, though, she didn't really care. She just let out a sob and put her head in her hands. Trent was alarmed. "Daria..." He put a tentative arm around her shoulders and held her as she cried. This lasted a few moments until the sobs tapered off to little sniffles. She sat up -- Trent took his arm off her shoulders quickly -- and collected herself, taking off her glasses and starting to clean them off on her jacket. Trent took them from her gently with one hand while groping in a pocket with the other. He produced a wad of tissues, handing some to Daria and using the rest to clean her glasses for her. Daria mopped up her face and blew her nose, and then Trent handed her the cleaned glasses, which she put on with a sheepish expression on her face. "Sorry." "Don't be," he assured her. "Tears clean you out; it's healthy. I don't think we'd do it otherwise." He gave her a moment to consider that. "Feel better?" "Sort of. A little." She thought about it, then shyly said, "Thanks." "Anytime, Daria." Another pause. "Daria?" "Yeah?" "Tell me a story?" "No bedtime story until you brush your teeth, young man." It was downright comforting to hear that coughing laugh of his. "Good one, Daria. I mean one about you, Janey and Lynn. A memory that you have and I don't. To get us through." "Okay...What do you want to know?" "I always kind of wondered -- what was it like meeting someone so much like you?" Daria had to wince ever so slightly at that. "I would ask you to request a story that makes no mention of Ms. Li, but there are so few..." Trent turned remorseful. "You don't have to tell me." Daria considered her next words carefully. "Strangely enough, Trent...I *want* to." _And maybe someday, I'll be ready to tell you why. Why it matters to me to have people remember her._ "Actually, Jane was the first to really meet Lynn. Ran into her at the lockers. Saw her from behind." A wicked smirk blossomed on Trent's face. "Mistaken identity?" Daria smirked, rather weakly, herself. "Oh yeah. Jane and I'd had a..." She blushed. "...disagreement," _and you'll find out what *that* was about over my broken and bleeding body,_ "so when Lynn didn't answer to my name, Jane thought it was just me being annoyed and tried apologizing. And then Lynn turned around and said: `Excuse me?'" Trent's coughing laugh seemed to ring quite clearly through the halls. * * * Daria and Trent entered the main reception area. Helen was gone, but Kate was there, talking to Dr. Phillips, whom Daria remembered from when she'd had that erotogenic rash. "Find out what you can," said the cause of the rash. "I'll be with Janey in the cafeteria." "I'll meet you there and let you know what's said," she assured him. Trent nodded at her and exited, and she stepped up to where Dr. Phillips and Kate were conversing. "Excuse me...how's Lynn?" Dr. Phillips recognized her. "Hello, Daria. Sorry, but I can really only divulge this to family..." _Might as well get used to it._ "I'm her sister. Well, half- sister, anyway." Phillips looked thoughtful and skeptical all at once. Kate eyed Daria cautiously and gave a grudging nod. "Now, Doctor, can you give me a vague time frame on when Lynn can be expected to recover? Only I'm slated to start a six-month secondment in Tokyo in two days and I'd like to be able to schedule for this." Daria and Dr. Phillips both stared incredulously at Kate, who didn't seem to notice. The doctor made a successful if visible effort to stay calm. "Ms. Cullen, I don't think you understand. While it seems as though Lynn isn't in immediate danger -- she wasn't strangled long enough to be seriously deprived of oxygen, for instance -- she has taken some severe blows to the head. The scans we've had back indicate no clotting or visible trauma, but she's comatose." "Cut to the chase, Doctor. I have a very full schedule." Now he was just barely keeping his anger in check, and Daria could tell. "Ms. Cullen...it could be days or weeks or even months before she comes to." He weighed his words a moment. "I'm sorry, Ms. Cullen, but your daughter may never recover. There's just no way to tell." Daria was devastated, but Kate merely looked annoyed. Daria got up and started out of the room as Kate began to harangue the doctor. "Doctor, that just isn't good enough. I mean, what the *hell* am I paying medical insurance for if..." Daria, at the door, shook her head with a sad sigh, then made her exit so she wouldn't have to listen to this anymore. _My lack of God, the woman has her head so far up her backside she can look out her own mouth. And I thought *my* mom was bad._ * * * Jane and Trent were sitting side by side at a cafeteria table, looking glum. A.P. approached, face pale and eyes red. He sat down across from the Lane siblings sheepishly. Jane made a tactful retreat. "I'm gonna get another coffee. Anyone else?" Trent and A.P. nodded, and Jane left to fetch the elixir of life. There was a moment of silence. A.P. decided to break it. "I guess I ought to apologize for acting like a jerk." "Me too, I guess," Trent rasped. "Can I just ask something?" "What?" "What's your problem with me, anyway?" Trent decided to cut to the chase. "I wanted to ask Daria out for weeks before you moved here and didn't say anything...for one reason and another. The dance? I wrote a song. It said it all." "So I have something you wanted but couldn't ask for and it eats at you?" "Yeah. Basically." A.P. nodded. "Makes sense." Trent looked speculatively at A.P., but A.P. refused to meet his eyes, and Trent shrugged. A moment or so later, Jane arrived with a tray upon which were three cups of coffee. She sat next to Trent, set the tray down, and said as each of them grabbed for a cup, "So I don't have to worry about you two killing each other?" Trent and A.P. shook their heads. "Good. One less thing." "Hmm...very Forrest Gump. How well it fits you." Jane listlessly threw a sugar packet at A.P. More silence; the three stared at their coffee cups, lost in their own thoughts. Then Daria approached and all three looked up from their coffees expectantly. Daria stood at the head of the table for a tense moment. "It's bad," she finally said. "She's in a coma." She struggled with the next part, then decided it was better said sooner than later. "She could die." A.P. recoiled as if slapped, then buried his head in his arms. Jane, a shocked look on her face, clapped a hand to her mouth. Trent's eyes widened with sorrow. Daria, a blank look on her face, sat down heavily next to A.P. And a mournful silence fell over the gathering. [tsuzuku?] ADAPTOR'S NOTES Jan hasn't told me what Li meant about "I was PROMISED this!" either. One more reason we should all pester her to do a third season (once she's done with BTG3 and "Growing Cynical," anyway). As I said in the notes to "The Parent Crap" adaptation, I dropped a few hints into the second season adapts (and may drop some more into first season remasters). As I didn't say at the time (in the interest of preserving this surprise), some of them were also hints as to Daria's true relationship with Lynn, as was a recurring leitmotif in the adapts that followed (or didn't you notice how I kept mentioning Kate Cullen's forename in every adaptation after "The Parent Crap"?). Some of them were so subtle even Jan (who, after all, knew what they were about) didn't pick up on them until I pointed them out. Others seemed subtle to me, but were probably about as subtle, really, as the proverbial flying mallet. Oh well; you win some, you foozle some. Just in case you didn't notice: Kate makes it sound like Helen seduced Jerome. When Helen told the story of the affair in "The Parent Crap," it sounded (to me at least) more the other way around. If you can see anything in the published Look-Alike corpus to give weight to either side's version of events, please drop me a line at zedd@io.com and let me know. (Hopefully, this is going to be addressed in "Growing Cynical.") "Erotogenic" doesn't necessarily have anything to do with sex. It literally means "love-induced" (or, in this case, crush-induced). The metaphor on how far up her posterior Kate has her head is one I came up with that I've always been fond of; "my lack of God" (previously seen in my "World Geek Show" adaptation) is a phrase I ganked from Chris Davies, the noted anime fanficter, Advocate of Darkness, Part-Time Champion of Light and occasional rat-bastard. Obligatory legal blap: Daria Morgendorffer was created (as were the rest of the Lawndale characters) by Glenn Eichler and Susie Lewis Lynn, and she and her neighbors are copyright 1993, 1997, 2000 MTV Networks, a Viacom company. (As Michelle Klein-Haess has pointed out, work-for-hire sucks the yolks from ostrich eggs.) Monty Python quotes and characters are copright 1970, 2000 Python (Monty) Pictures Ltd. They are here used, without the permission of their creators or owners, in the not-for-profit context of fan-fiction. The characters of Lynn Cullen and A.P. McIntyre are copyright 1999, 2000 Janet "Canadibrit" Neilson, as is this storyline, which was adapted by Austin Loomis (to whom the prose format version is copyright 2000) with permission. All other characters, locations and incidents (of which I don't think there are any, actually) are either imaginary or used fictitiously. Any coincidence of names is regretted, and any resemblance to persons living, dead, undead, or wandering the night in ghostly torment is either purely satirical or not my fault. As a "substantially transformative" derivative work, this story is protected by the Supreme Court's decision in re Campbell v. Acuff Rose Music. It may be freely redistributed as long as this copyright notice is maintained intact, but may not be in any way redistributed for profit without the permission of the legal owners of all concepts involved. The present author hereby gives permission for any and all keepers of Daria fanfic pages to archive this work (as if I could stop them). Any publication of this story for profit without the express written permission of Austin Loomis, Janet Neilson and MTV Networks (like any of that'll happen, especially the last) is strictly prohibited, and violators, if I ever decide to track them down, will be strung up by the thumbs, beaten about the head and shoulders with a free-range carrot, and then handed over to corporate lawyers who will do terrible things to them. On purpose. Austin, and good day.