Awakening

A prequel to The Window

(Takes place after Daria's move to Raft. This is a work of fanfiction, and no money or anything of value has been exchanged. The characters are the property of MTV/Viacom or whomever currently holds the intellectual property rights to Daria.

Rated M for coarse language.

"My God," came her sister's quiet voice. "You're gonna love it here. This place is beautiful." Quinn glanced from side to side, eyes wide.

"Yeah, there are lots of cute guys," smirked Daria. "With brains."

"Shut up, you. You can carry your stuff up to your dorm room yourself if you want."

Daria glanced at Quinn; as she thought, the corners of her oh-so-cute mouth were curved up slightly. "I hope Dad finds the parking lot okay, or Mom's gonna kill him. She's been in a kinda weird mood all day."

"Her eldest flew the coop. You're next," Daria smirked. "303. Here it is." Daria unlocked the door; her roommate hadn't arrived yet. "Tight. But at least we have a bathroom and not a communal facility down the hall."

"Still, you're away from Lawndale," Quinn said quietly, looking around. "I know I'll be there for at least my first couple of years of college. Gotta make up for all that time I wasted."

It took all of ten minutes to put the stuff they had brought away. Helen and Jake were on their way with a hand truck, laden down with Daria's new microwave and boxes of food, various supplies, and her printer.

"Daria…" Quinn fell quiet, gathering her thoughts and then pressing on carefully. "I hope you give people a chance to get to see who you really are. This isn't Lawndale, or Highland, thank God."

Daria said nothing. No sharp reply, not even a glare; she was looking out the window at the people hanging out in the quad below.

"It wasn't the right time, I guess; and if you guys had tried it any earlier it probably wouldn't have…" Oh shit, when will I learn to shut the hell up? Daria can take care of herself. "I guess I'm saying that you could…I mean…"

"It's okay, Sis. I think I know what you're trying to say. I'll live, and so will he. I can do without the pain, sure, but there are some things that I want to keep."

Quinn looked at her sister, arms wrapped around herself, watching the people down below. Couples holding hands, people hugging, the excitement of a new life…Sis, what do I do? How can I help?

"The thing I miss the most is being able to just talk to him. He was one of my closest friends, and there are things that I can't talk about with Jane. You know, the brother-sister thing? I always had the two of them, and now, Jane's still back there until the next term, and I don't even want to call their house just in case Trent picks up."

"Jane doesn't have a cell?"

"Not yet. She's watching her money really carefully, but maybe next month…"

Quinn grinned. That I can help with. I'll get her one of those no contract phones. It'll keep you guys in contact until she can swing one herself.

Daria turned away from the window, eyes now closed tight, face downcast.

Oh God, Daria, please don't cry! You're the strong one, don't forget that.

Without thinking it through, Quinn stepped over and gave her sister a hug. She felt Daria tense, and to Quinn's surprise, she relaxed just a bit and began to hug her back.

"Sis, I'm not gonna pretend that I know what you're going through. But you can call me anytime, you know. I'd like that. I'm gonna miss you, you…you…brain."

"If you need any help with your schoolwork, you know I'll be there for you," Daria smirked. "I even left you one of my green jackets in the back of your closet. You know, I think you'll have a great senior year, if your grades keep trending the way they did. I know you're a lot smarter than you let on."

"Thanks, Sis. I'll take you up on that. Will you proofread my stuff before I turn it in?"

"Sure. You might email your assignments to me, so I can make suggestions. If you want, I mean."

Quinn gave her sister a smile. "You and I are gonna be alright, Daria. We'll never screw things up as badly as Mom and her sisters did."

Daria glanced over at her roommate Carla's sleeping form, on her side, facing the wall.

The thin metal slats of the window blinds were icy cold, and her breath fogged the view of the campus outside, cold and blue and still as death at three in the morning.

She replayed the last conversation she had with Jane in her head.

I don't need to get laid. I need to make love with a guy that cares about me as much as I do for him.

You still feel that way about him?

It's different. Like betrayal.

He didn't cheat on you.

He wanted his own life.

That's not fair. You want your own life too.

I still remember what it was like the first time. I don't think I'm ever going to forget. I was so scared, and I think he was too.

He was. He was so afraid of screwing everything up, and he did it anyway. It was wrong and he knew it.

Wrong?

It couldn't last. You were going to move on and walk out of his life.

I guess we both knew this going in.

So it's as much you as him.

I know.

Still hurts like hell.

Yeah.

He still hurts too. I don't think that I've ever seen my brother cry before.

So it's my fault?

I didn't say that.

I gotta go.

Daria, I-

She sighed, shaking her head. After what might have been ten minutes of trying to clear her mind she reached for her laptop, waking it up and opening a new document. She didn't bother to title the entry; it didn't deserve a name yet. It was raw material that she would examine later, to tease out some semblance of structure and purpose. Or perhaps, just delete. For now, it was like a poison that she needed to get out of her head.

So we took these things out to play

when we both knew that we shouldn't.

They were so beautiful, so right,

they illuminated the night from within.

Pretty things. We couldn't help ourselves.

How could anyone resist the metaphor?

My lover, my first time, from his first touch

I found that it was all encoded in my being.

I knew what to do, how to move, how to feel

We made love like we breathe to stay alive.

Some part of me awoke inside that night

Something that I needed to comprehend such joy

And now I learned that it makes my sorrow

So perfect, what the maudlin call bittersweet.

Bittersweet. Now I understand the word.

If we had just fucked

It wouldn't have been so bad now.

But I don't know how to just fuck.

I never learned how to do that with him.

Well.

It turns out that it's a lot like masturbation.

But there's a hell of a lot more baggage and drama

Thrown into the deal.

Big sweaty guy working on top of me.

Dammit, man, I need to breathe.

My body is satisfied.

I guess I'm a good lay.

I know how to enjoy the sensations

But I know that there's more to this

And it lives where I'm no longer sure

How to pick through my shadows to get there.

I guess that's all some people ever get

And they call it getting lucky.

But I know that there's more

And I want it back.

It's different when a lover looks at you.

A partner sizes up your tits and your ass.

He thinks about how he should fuck you.

Over easy? Medium Rare?

They call me a cynic

When what I want to do is make love.

I want the look in the eyes of my lover

Who can easily see my soul

He sees it clearly through the smoke

And haze

And heat

Of lust.

Love makes it sacred.

Without it, all that you have is

Fucking.

She closed the file, embedding it into the color model of one of Jane's image scans. Even Jane wouldn't notice the subtle changes, masked as they would be by normal rendering variations from one computer to another.

She shut down the computer and was finally able to get to sleep.