COMMITTED
a Daria fanfic

by
Mike Yamiolkoski




PART SIX



INT: DARKNESS

Quinn's eyes slowly open, revealing a human skull with glowing red eyes staring into her face.

QUINN: AAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!

She bolts upright, stumbing backwards against a bookshelf, from which a human heart drops into her hands and sits there, still beating.

QUINN: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!

Quinn drops the battery-powered heart and looks frantically around at the gray padded walls, the sawed-off bars, the various anatomical replicas. It soon dawns on her where she is.

QUINN: God, how does she wake up in this room every morning without completely losing her mind?

Rubbing her eyes, Quinn stumbles to the closet where she has a couple of her own clothes hanging. She pauses for a moment, her eye having caught the poetry carved inside the door.

QUINN: Eww! (shudders) I am never hanging my clothes in here again...




INT: LIVING ROOM

Quinn yawns and stretches as she comes down the stairs. The daily planning of the wedding is already off and running. Helen's on the phone, Jake is being fed by Ruth, Rita is frowning at a Bridal magazine, Erin is eating ice cream straight from the container, and Brian (who looks like hell) is massaging Erin's feet.

RITA: Jake, would you please tell this woman from whose loins you squirted that there is nothing wrong with blue and orange for wedding colors?

JAKE: Um...

ERIN: A little more on the ankle, sweetheart. There's a really uncomfortable knot right there.

BRIAN: Yes, dear.

RUTH: Helen, will you please inform your colorblind sister that a black and white wedding has a long and proud tradition?

HELEN: (holding phone) Rita, please come to some sort of compromise. (on phone) We can't have a counter-offer already, we just sent the initial offer last week!

ERIN: Oh Brian, I'm out of ice cream. Could you get me some Rocky Road? A gallon would probably be enough.

BRIAN: I don't think there is any -

RITA: Then go get some! Jesus, Brian, a little ice cream doesn't sound like too much to provide in exchange for the well-being of your poor pregnant wife, not to mention my grandchildren! (to Helen) Compromise? What do you think I've been doing since this old bat got here? But then, if you want your wedding to be one big compromise, that's your own lookout.

RUTH: Hmph! I can't imagine why all your marriages fell apart, with attitudes like that...

RITA: Of course, it's easy to stay married if you just play June Cleaver all your life and - (sudden shocked expression) Good Lord, I'm going to be a grandmother.

ERIN: Mother, I've been pregnant for eight months! This is only just now occurring to you?

QUINN: Um... why don't we go with, say, blue and white?

ERIN: Excuse me, those were my wedding colors! Doesn't anyone consider other people's feelings around here? And Brian, stop sitting around being worthless and go get me some damned ice cream!

BRIAN: Of course, dear. (Brian makes for the door)

QUINN: Um, I'll go get it if you'd rather stay here, Brian!

BRIAN: (whispering) Are you nuts? (hurries out)

HELEN: (on phone) Fine, I'll be down at the office in a half hour!

RUTH: (rolling eyes) Of course she will.

HELEN: (angry) What was that??

RUTH: Oh, nothing. It only figures that you would run off to work just when your input is needed. This is your wedding, isn't it? I don't imagine your sister is quite ready for her fourth just yet.

RITA: Maybe she wouldn't have to run off to work if the so-called "Man of the House" brought in more than a two-figure paycheck.

HELEN: Rita, I don't need your help!

RITA: Oh, that's gratitude for you! Never mind that I've had to take over a month out of my life to be here for you!

QUINN: You go ahead, Mom. I'll stay and help.

HELEN: (yelling) Quinn, I can handle this myself! (Angrily pulls out cell phone and begins punching numbers)

Quinn looks momentarily stricken, then turns and marches back up the stairs.

RITA: You know, if I weren't here to stop you, we'd probably end up with some kind of dry military "ceremony".

RUTH: There's nothing wrong with that! It was good enough for my wedding!

RITA: That figures.

RUTH: If my husband were here, he'd put you in your place!

RITA: Oh, he'd try, but unfortunately for him, I'm not as spineless and weak as the rest of his family.

RUTH: Now that's enough about -

JAKE: Ohh, do I hear that! Ol' Mad Dog Morgendorffer never let you forget who was really in charge!! I can see him coming through the door now... those beady little narrow eyes, that snarling lip under his beard, that haircut you could land a HELICOPTER ON -

RUTH: Jakey!!

JAKE: I WISH HE WAS HERE RIGHT NOW, DAMMIT!! I'D TELL HIM WHAT FOR!!

The doorbell rings. Jake grabs it clumsily with his bandaged hand and throws it open, revealing tall man with beady eyes, a snarling lip under an iron-gray beard, and a severe flat-top buzzcut, dressed in a U.S. Marines uniform.

MAN: Hello, Jake.

JAKE: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGHHHH!!!!!!!! (turns to run away and trips on the stairs, throwing himself spread-eagled onto the floor, where he curls up in a fetal position, whimpering)

ERIN: Hey, pregnant woman here! Do you all want me to go into premature labor?

MAN: (derisively) Same old Jake. Pathetic.

HELEN: (angry) Just who do you think -

RUTH: Davy!

MAN: Mom!




INT: MORGENDORFFER KITCHEN

Rita leans on the counter drinking wine from the bottle, while Quinn busies herself in the refrigerator. David Morgendorffer sits at the table with a beer in hand.

DAVID: So, Maria, you're through high school by now, right? Why're you still living at home?

There's a brief pause, before Quinn realizes she's being addressed.

QUINN: Huh? Oh, I'm, er, still in high school, Uncle Dave. And it's Daria. Um, I mean, Quinn.

DAVID: (not really listening) Sure, sure.

Rita snorts disdainfully, taking another swig of wine.

Helen enters with Ruth close behind. Most everyone looks anxiously up at them.

DAVID: Well? Is he going to live?

RUTH: Now, Davy...

DAVID: Little joke, Ma! Ha ha!

HELEN: (dryly) Ha ha. He'll be all right. We managed to convince him his father hasn't returned from the dead.

DAVID: Maybe I should head up there and order him to do some pushups, eh? The boy's gone soft over the years, I tell you! Though that was a pretty impressive duck and cover, I'll grant him that.

HELEN: (quickly, to change the subject) So, David, I haven't see you since your son's wedding! How is your family these days?

DAVID: Well, you can ask 'em yourself when they get here! Should be here in about an hour, plenty of time for ol' Squirrel Boy to get out from under the bed and show his face!

RUTH: Now Davy...

QUINN: Squirrel Boy?

DAVID: Anyway, Helen, we had a little trouble getting a room. Some kind of convention in town. We'll need to crash here for the night.

HELEN: (frowning slightly) Well now, we're a little short on space -

RUTH: Oh, I see. The Maid of Honor gets her own room at your home, but the Best Man needs to fend for himself in the street! Well, if we're really being that much trouble, I'm sure my son and I can find lodgings somewhere else!

RITA: (addressing the room in general) Is her perpetual whining getting really old for anyone else yet? Let's see a show of hands.

RUTH: The way I see it, I shouldn't have to defend my place in this family every five minutes!

HELEN: Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ruth! We'll make room somehow.

DAVID: Hell, it's just for one night, Helen. I'm sure a room'll open up somewhere in town tomorrow, and if it doesn't, well that's just more time for me and Squirrel Boy to catch up on old times! (swigs his beer)

HELEN: (through gritted teeth) That's wonderful, David. (under her breath) Never mind that it violates my rights under the third amendment...




INT: HELEN & JAKE'S ROOM

Jake is leaning on the mirror, looking at himself and breathing deeply as if trying to psych himself up.

JAKE: Come, on, Morgendorffer. You can do this. It's just for a few days.

QUINN: Um, Daddy?

JAKE: GAAHHH! I mean, hi Quinn!

QUINN: Daddy, everyone's wondering when you'll be coming back down. Well, Grandma is, anyway.

JAKE: Oh, I'll be down in a minute! Just needed a moment alone, you know... to uh... see if there was some food stuck in my teeth!

QUINN: Okay.

Quinn makes no move to leave. It takes Jake a moment to realize she's still standing there.

JAKE: Is, er, everything all right?

QUINN: (deep breath) Dad, can I ask you a personal question?

JAKE: Um...

QUINN: What's the deal between you and Uncle Dave, anyway?

JAKE: Well, you see, I just hadn't seen him in so long, and he always looked a lot more like Dad than I did, so it was kind of like seeing the old man all over again, you know? He just, er, startled me a bit.

QUINN: He scared you silly.

JAKE: (not missing a beat) That's another way of putting it, sure.

QUINN: So, why don't you come back downstairs then?

JAKE: Well, I just had to get myself together, clean myself up, change my pants -

QUINN: Da-ad! I don't want to know about that! I just mean, since he's not your father who terrifies you, why are you still hiding up here?

JAKE: Hiding? (turns to face mirror) Who's hiding? I'm not hiding, this is my house! I'll go downstairs if I want to, dammit!

QUINN: Great, because he wants to know who to invite to your bachelor party.

JAKE: Bachelor party? (actually looks a little happy) I get a bachelor party? Wow!

QUINN: Yeah, he said all his old friends couldn't wait to see you again, and -

The smile vanishes from Jake's face, which goes blurry before him in the mirror...


Flashback


The blurry face refocuses into a much younger Jake, no more than ten or twelve. He's pedaling down the street on his bicycle (slowly) and the tail of his Davy Crockett hat catches the wind. He looks perfectly happy, until -

VOICE: Hey, Squirrel Boy!!

Jake tries to dodge as a number of older boys leap out in front of him, but it's too late. One of them, obviously his older brother, grabs the bicycle and drags it to a halt. Jake tries to jump and run, but trips and falls in the street instead.

DAVID: Got 'im!

BOY: Whatsa matter, Squirrel Boy? Gonna cry? Got a boo-boo on your knee?

JAKE: (pouting, trying hard not to cry) Don't call me that!

DAVID: Why not, Squirrel Boy? You got the tail for it!

David grabs Jake's cap and twirls it around his head by the tail.

JAKE: Give that back!

DAVID: What, this? (he holds out the cap, but snatches it away at the last moment and tosses it to one of his friends) Yo, Ted!

TED: Got it! Hey Squirrel, want your tail back?

Jake runs over to Ted, but his cap is gone by the time he gets there.

BOYS: Keep Away!! Come on, Squirrel Boy, you can run faster 'n that! You want it? Come get it!

The boys throw the cap between them as Jake runs in circles trying to get it back. Eventually, Dave gets it again.

DAVID: Come on, guys, enough's enough. I think it's time we give it back. C'mere, Squirrel.

Jake approaches his brother, panting for air.

DAVID: We'll put it right where you can get it. Here!

David whips the hat into the air, over Jake's head, to land in the upper branches of a tall tree.

JAKE: No!!!

TED: What's the matter? I thought Squirrels liked trees.

DAVID: Better go get it, Squirrel. You'll need to climb higher things than that tree when you get shipped off to Buxton next year.

JAKE: But... I'm going to tennis camp!

DAVID: (laughs) Yeah, right. You'll be begging for the days that you just had to chase after your cap once Corporal Ellenbogen gets through with you. (gives Jake a shove toward a tree) Now get up that tree before the other squirrels turn your cap into a nest!

The boys all leave, laughing. One of them takes Jake's bicycle just for grins, leaving Jake looking with trepidation up into the branches of what seems to be a very, very tall tree. A real squirrel is already taking interest in his cap.

JAKE: Mommy...


End Flashback


Jake stands outside the kitchen, listening to his older brother laugh raucously about something - the same laugh he remembers from his childhood. With a deep breath, he bravely heads into the kitchen.

DAVID: Hey, Squirrel Boy!


The next evening...

INT: MOTEL LOBBY

Daria approaches a pay phone, picks it up, and dials a number




INT: LANE LIVING ROOM

The usual clutter of the Lane family home is slightly more chaotic than usual, mostly due to the presence of the band equipment and the band themselves, sleeping in various pieces of furniture.

The phone rings, causing little stir.

It rings again.

A boy of around seventeen strolls into the room. He's thin and lanky, with longish hair that looks like he cuts it himself without the benefit of a mirror, and a black T-shirt that's definitely seen better days. He also looks like he's trying desperately to grow a goatee, but it's not coming in well. He picks up the phone.

BOY: Hello?

Split screen with Daria

DARIA: Um... hi. Is this the Lane house?

BOY: Uh-huh.

DARIA: Is Jane there?

BOY: I'll check. (lowers phone slightly) JANE!!!

Daria winces. The band members stir a bit, all but Trent, who maintains the outward appearance of a fresh corpse.

JANE: (from upstairs) WHAT??

BOY: PHONE!!!

JANE: OKAY!!!

Jane picks up the phone. Split screen switches from the living room to her room.

JANE: Daria? That you?

DARIA: Yeah. I'm still in Boston. Who was that?

JANE: Oh, that was Jesse's brother Danny. He's crashing here now too. Had some fight with his mother and she threw him out, or something.

DARIA: We should all be so lucky. Any other new guests?

JANE: Don't you worry, amiga, I'm holding a bed for you if you need it.

DARIA: I might. Right before I left -

JANE: Quinn moved into your room, I know. I stopped by there today to drop off your hydroencephalic skull replica that I was using for last week's baby clothes display.


Flashback


EXT: MORGENDORFFER HOME

Jane comes jogging up the street, a backpack slung over one shoulder. When she gets within sight of Daria's house, she stops and takes in the scene: four cars in the driveway, five on the street, a camping trailer set up alongside the garage, a motorcycle on the front lawn. A single broken window next to the door has been replaced by a sheet of plywood.

JANE: Not good.

Taking a deep breath, she goes up and rings the doorbell, ignoring the muffled sound of not-entirely-friendly conversation from within the house.

After a long moment, the door flings open.

QUINN: (without looking) The invitations were printed with the wrong date, the wedding's not happening for another - Oh, Jane, it's you!

JANE: Um, hi Quinn. I came over to drop this off for Dar -

Quinn grabs Jane by the collars with both fists.

QUINN: (hissing whisper) You've got to get me out of here!

JANE: (icy calm) Unhand me.

QUINN: Huh? (seems to realize what she's doing) Oh, yeah. Sorry. It's been kind of tense around here lately.

JANE: The heck you say.

QUINN: Seriously, you have to help me! I can't take much more of this!

JANE: What the hell do you want me to do?

QUINN: Um... maybe we could go shopping?

Jane crosses her arms and looks at Quinn as if she's offered to dance a tango with her. Then -

HELEN: (from inside) Quinn! I need your help in here!

QUINN: Ooohh! Coming!

Quinn leaves a slightly bewildered Jane on the doorstep.

JANE: Forgive the transgression on your family's private matters, Daria, but this I gotta see.

Jane heads inside, where she sees...




INT: MORGENDORFFER LIVING ROOM

What was once chaos has degenerated into utter pandemonium. With wide eyes, Jane takes in the scene: Ruth and Rita are involved in yet another argument, this time apparently over the decorating scheme at the reception. David Morgendorffer is entertaining a number of people, including cousin Doug and his family, by relating embarrassing stories of Jake in his youth - Jake sits off to one side, being humiliated. Helen (whose hair has definitely seen better days) has set up a temporary office in one corner of the living room. There are a number of people whom Jane doesn't recognize. Above the general hullabaloo, she catches bits of conversation...

DAVID: So we get back from the twenty-mile hike, and Jake's struggling to breathe by now. He's so exhausted that he doesn't even look before flopping down to the ground - remember this one Jake?

JAKE: (looks like he doesn't want to) Uh...

DAVID: Splatt! Right on top of the biggest pile of elk turds you've ever laid eyes on! Ha-ha!

ERIN: (still on the sofa) Could somebody get me another pillow before my spine is bent permanently out of shape? Where is that worthless man who did this to me??

RUTH: (to Rita) Do you own stock in the crepe paper industry? That's the only explanation I can offer for this mess!

RITA: Get this past your rapidly thinning gray hair into your thick head, already! This is a festive occasion! Crepe paper and balloons are things you see at such things! You'd know that if you'd been invited to one single party since the Eisenhower administration.

RUTH: This is not some chance for you to re-live your youth, Missy! This is my son's wedding!

RITA: It's a good thing we're not trying to re-live your youth. Everyone would be showing up in leopard skins and clubs!

HELEN: (on phone) What do you mean, they've subpoenaed the 1998 human trial reports? Those were supposed to be shredded, dammit! (pause) Look, they signed waivers, every damn last one of them, and so what if they have a little trouble completing sentences now, they can just - one moment, I've got another call.

SANDI: All right then, I think we've determined contingency plans for wardrobe and accessories for each proposed decorating scheme. Tiffany dear, you're quite certain that the florist will be providing red rose bouquets for each table?

TIFFANY: Or tropical fruit displays... they still haven't decided...

STACY: This is so hard! No wonder the bride always wears white, how else are you supposed to coordinate!

DAPHNE: (bridesmaid from Erin's wedding) It's too bad you're not bridesmaids, it would all be figured out for you!

Shocked looks from all three other girls

SANDI: And surrender our wardrobe autonomy?

TIFFANY: Never...

STACY: Poor Quinn, having to wear that awful dress!

DAVID: Yep, ol' Jake had to set up his sleeping bag fifty yards away from the rest of us, just in case some grizzly got a whiff of the dung all over his sorry hide. Some fun, eh Squirrel?

JAKE: (sigh) Some fun.

ERIN: If I don't get a pillow in ten seconds, asses will be kicked!!

RITA: Why don't you just worry about the rehearsal dinner, and let me worry about - what's this? (takes a closer look at the brochure she's been waving around) This is a cake brochure! Did you order another cake??

RUTH: Well, I was afraid someone might mistake yours for the stage, and start playing music on it!

RITA: It took me weeks to find the right cake! Weeks of searching, interviewing, taste testing -

RUTH: (mean smile) That part shows on the hips, you know.

RITA: (practically screaming) It does not!

HELEN: (on phone) Yes, I looked at the latest settlement offer, and it's completely inadequate! Mr. Royce would have a stroke if he saw these kinds of concessions. They're suing us for ten figures, we countersue in the same ballpark or we look like pushovers! And Helen Morgendorffer is not a pushover!

Helen is suddenly pushed over as Rita runs past her to the bathroom.

JANE: Unbelievable.

LUHRMAN: (suddenly standing next to Jane) It's like the invasion of Normandy. Without the ocean. (looks at Jane) Bride or groom?

JANE: Neither, actually. You?

LUHRMAN: Does it matter?

JANE: Guess not. (sizing him up) Do you know Daria, by any chance? For some reason, I think you two would hit it off.

LUHRMAN: Meeting Daria was the definitive turning point of my entire life.

JANE: (raised eyebrow) Really?

LUHRMAN: That, and guessing two out of seven numbers in last week's Powerball.

JANE: Sorry I asked.

LUHRMAN: I accept your apology.

JANE: R-right.

QUINN: (running up to Jane) Jane, can you come up to Daria's room with me for a sec? There's something I need to show you.

JANE: (pulling out skull) Well, I do need to put this -

QUINN: Great!

Quinn grabs Jane by the arm and drags her up the stairs, causing Jane to drop the skull. Luhrman picks it up.

LUHRMAN: (disappointed) Hm. Plaster.




INT: DARIA'S ROOM

Quinn drags Jane into Daria's room and shuts the door behind her.

JANE: Hey, hey, slow down! You don't have to pull my freakin' arm off!

QUINN: Sorry. We might not have much time. I really need to talk to someone.

JANE: Look Quinn, I appreciate that you're going through a rough period, but there's a simple truth that you need to realize here, which is that I'm not your confidante. Forgive me for being blunt, but we aren't even casual friends.

QUINN: (sits down on bed) I know, but... Jane, I don't know what to do! I've tried talking to my own friends, and their response was to come down here and join in the planning! And every time I try to talk to anyone else, they either ignore me or things just get worse. I'm at the end of my rope, Jane!

JANE: Quinn, you're taking it all too seriously. It's not your problem; why are you stressing over it?

QUINN: But if it wasn't for me...

JANE: Yes?

QUINN: Never mind. Look, can you do me one favor?

JANE: No promises.

QUINN: Could you ask Daria to talk to me? Please? I know she's mad, but I really need someone right now. And since we have to share a room until this is over, we could at least try to support each other.

JANE: Quinn, I may be Daria's best friend, but I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to do. Frankly, I'm surprised she's stuck it out this long. I'll tell her what you told me, that's the best I can do.

QUINN: (sighs) All right.

JANE: I have to go. I have things to do and if I don't get out of here soon, I'm afraid I never will.

QUINN: I know the feeling.

As Jane turns to go, she hears a little sob from Quinn. An expression of pity falls over her face. She starts to turn back, when -

RITA: (from downstairs) Quinn!! Could you bring a pillow down here for your poor bedridden cousin?

QUINN: Coming!

Quinn slips past Jane, her eyes dry. Jane watches her go, then follows.


End Flashback


Back to split-screen with Jane and Daria on the phone

JANE: That's when I left. I considered going back later to string up crime scene tape just to protect innocent passerby. Then I remembered I'd need it for my next window display.

DARIA: After I get back home, you'll probably have the opportunity to collect more tape.

JANE: So, are you sure you don't want to come crash at my place?

DARIA: (sigh) I'll think about it. You know, it's really a matter of pride. I don't want to be the first one to crack.

JANE: Enough about the hell at home. How are things going up there?

DARIA: They suck. I was able to get the classes I wanted, but all the single dorm rooms filled up on Monday. I might have been able to get one if Mom had driven me up. As it is, I'll probably end up in a four-person suite. And when they say "suite", they mean two bunk beds and a sink.

JANE: See? Running water! How cool is that?

DARIA: We might want to start looking into apartment options as soon as you get here. The school regulations say I have to stay in a dorm room for the first year, but they might bend the rules a bit if I strangle one of my roommates. Hopefully, one of them will have red hair and dress fashionably so it'll be easier.

JANE: You know, Quinn did seem pretty broken up. Maybe you should try talking to her.

DARIA: (frowning) Why should I when this is all her damned fault?

JANE: Huh?

The phone beeps.

DARIA: I'll have to tell you later, my card's almost run out. Can you pick me up at the bus station at about noon on Saturday? I don't think I can count on my parents to do it.

JANE: Sure. We'll go get cheese fries and you can vent your spleen a little. (pause) Daria?

The phone has gone dead. Jane hangs it up, leans her chin on her hand, and sighs.




END PART SIX
(to be continued...)







DISCLAIMERS:

Daria and associated characters are the property of MTV which, in turn, is the property of Viacom. Characters are used without permission. The fact that MTV and Viacom are aware of Daria fan websites with fanfic content and choose not to take action against such sites is taken as implicit permission to use their characters in stories such as this one.

This story is Copyright 2002 by Mike Yamiolkoski and may be distributed freely only in its entirety and with the above notices intact.

Contact the author at MikeYamiolkoski@msn.com. Comments, reviews, and particularly ILLUSTRATIONS are always welcome!