The moment she answered the phone, Daria's eardrums were nearly blasted apart with a huge sneeze from the other end of the phone.
Groggy from having just woken up, her eyes squinted at the glowing digits of her alarm clock. She scowled to see the glowing green digits 03:02 sharpen and focus, and so rubbing her eyes, Daria tiredly mumbled something incoherent into the mouthpiece.
A few seconds later, however, Daria's tired eyes were wide and awake, her jaw dropped open in shock with her hand groping desperately for her glasses as she listened.
Five minutes later, a hastily dressed Daria slammed on the accelerator and zoomed away from her home, the tyres squealing on the gravel as she headed for the hospital as fast as she could.
As soon as the brunette entered the hospital she ran - a rare thing for Daria Morgendorffer - towards the elevator. A minute later, when nothing happened, Daria was pounding up the stairs.
She caught her breath on the fourth landing, and stepping onto the floor, she nervously cast her eyes on the number plates on every door. She passed 420, 419, 418... and continued around the corner for 412.
Sitting outside 412, Daria saw Jane looking lost in space as she sat quietly on the plastic chair. Hearing Daria's Docs on the floor, however, Jane looked up. Daria was still breathing a little faster than usual.
Jane tried to crack a smile, but failed miserably. Her lips made itself into a weak and shaky line. Standing up, she walked towards Daria, but stopped before the door of 412. Taking a breath that was as unstable as her expression, Jane opened the door. It opened almost too smoothly and quickly for Daria, and seeing what was inside, Daria gave an unstoppable, horrified gasp in response.
Jane's expression was unreadable. Feeling slightly awkward, Daria reached over and set a hand onto Jane's shoulder. Daria saw Jane bite her lip - hard - and gripped the ends of Daria's green jacket so tightly they trembled. As Jane pressed her forehead to Daria's shoulder, still refusing to cry, Daria couldn't tear her eyes away from the room.
Lying down within the starched sheets was a deathly white and barely breathing young man. He was covered in so many tubes and bits of plaster it was almost impossible to tell who he was.
Almost.
Because just barely visible between the multitudes of tubes, Daria could see his arm. And she could see the slightly faded but unmistakeable tribal patterns tattooed just above the elbow.
The morning after, Daria had come home and shut the door to her room - and locked it. Her parents tried to console her out of her room, but Quinn could be heard chasing them away from lurking around her door. Daria was extremely grateful to her sister, and made a mental note to thank her later.
So much had happened since graduation. It wasn't college yet, which Daria thanked God for. She didn't know how she'd do in her studies if he'd gone into a coma during college.
So as she lay face-down in her pillow, Daria couldn't do anything but think.
And as she thought, she remembered.