"Stained"
A Daria Fanfiction
by THM
She's so delicate like this.
Lying there. So quiet. Calm. At peace. She's resting
right now; she needs it, what with all that's been going on,
and the aftermath.
I think that my revelation to her tired her out the
most. Of course, it did quite a number on me, too. What got
said isn't the kind of thing that any person just shrugs off.
But there's more to say - I'm nowhere near finished yet, and I
don't think she is, either. That's cool; we're alone here,
totally alone - I don't know if people are searching for us
or not, but where we are, there's all the time in the world.
I don't come here often (so nobody would follow), and I've
never taken anyone up here with me (so nobody would squeal).
Until now. Until her. She's special - no, not good
enough. She's spectacular! Even that's not close, but it'll
have to do - it's the best I can do, anyway. She'll appreciate
the effort, I know she will. Right now, I want to go to her,
take one of her precious hands in both of mine, wake her up,
and tell her I've found such a wonderful word to describe
her - but she can't be disturbed. She's resting, so
peaceful...it would be a crime to wake her up.
Strange. I look at her resting there, and the thing is,
the suddenness of it all hits me; this wouldn't have
happened (before), maybe not even last week. We've taken
such strides together, she and I, and so quickly. Such a
long time in coming; but I am so grateful that the time
has finally come.
I wouldn't be able to tell now, when I first
realised what it was that I felt; I mean, does anyone
remember the first time that they opened their eyes?
No; all that sticks around is the feeling of the wonderful
light, so bright it hurts but it feels so good, as it bathes
you in joy. All I remember is the joy, when I looked at
her, and my eyes opened, really opened.
I think my heart might even have stopped. Just for a
beat or two. We were at her house, talking about,
something, (I have no clue what now), and when I looked into
her eyes as she walked into the room, it hit me - hard.
Then life started again, and the moment passed. We
talked some more, maybe watched some TV, and I went
home. Everything back to normal, right? Like hell. No
such thing, not in our lives.
No going back now. That's one sure thing I know out
of all of this - there is no way to undo what's
happened. And that scares me, you know? Things could
get so ugly over this, so many people could get the
wrong idea...I look at her, that glorious face, those
eyes, even if they're hidden right now, and a sense of
peace comes over me. We'll get through this, she and I;
we've faced tough situations before, after all; she in
her way, and I in mine. And we survived those. This won't
be any different - I can feel it. She'll guide me through.
******************
I didn't really want to, but I had to go back into
town. Lawndale is such a hole; I walked around, and I
wondered how I ever thought it could be home. I'd never
really liked it all that much, and now that I knew my real
feelings, what little liking I had was gone. If I didn't
need supplies (and some money), this place would be a
spot on a rear-view mirror, I swear. Small town, small
minds, small people - no wonder this burg's biggest
attraction is a giant piece of fruit.
They were looking at me the entire time, too. At
the cash machine, in the parking lot, all around the
supermarket...so many pairs of eyes. Prying eyes. Nosy
eyes. Hateful eyes. Didn't matter what colour they were,
they were all the same: they followed me, and they made
me feel uneasy - like I was dirty or something. I had some
spot, some stain, only I couldn't see it. It was creepy,
like they could see through me, even though I was in
disguise, so I knew nobody could tell it was me. But I did
it, 'cause she needed it.
I'd do a lot of creepy stuff for her. I'd do a lot
of stuff for her, period. I'm devoted to her, though not on
a level that Joey, Jeffy, and what's-his-name (Jameel?) show
for Quinn. That's 'stupid' devotion; she leads them around
like dogs on a leash, but they still beg for treats. Mine
is 'smart' - she's my world, and I'd do anything, but I'd
at least think about some of the stuff I'm asked to do
first! If she didn't mind, of course.
It seems like that's the way it's always been with
her, really; she takes the lead, and I follow. At first
I was kinda resentful - what the hell did she know that
was so special anyway? I mean, sure, she could handle
people, situations, so well...like it was so easy for her -
too easy, almost. So what was so cool about that? Dumb
questions, really, and over time, I got to see how wrong I
was to think that way.
I think she's starting to move...no, just the wind
in her hair. I carefully brush it back into place. I love
the way her hair moves when she walks, almost like a
living thing. How she does it I don't know, but I love
it all the same. I wish my hair was like it, I've gone
looking for dye, rollers, whatever, to change it; I just
can't do it - it would've been blasphemy, not
flattery, if I'd tried. Plus, it would've given away how I
really felt before I was ready to tell her - I needed it to
be just right when I did, or else I'd lose the moment
forever.
I thought about that moment for so long, played it
out over and over in my head, so often that I almost
didn't do it for real; the fantasy became my own
romantic movie, a way of keeping me going when things
seemed like they were never going to happen, or a
pick-me-up at the end of a hard day. I was content to
plan it out, all the possibilities...doing it for real
was just too scary - what if she said no? What if she
called the cops? If she walked away, told the whole school,
threatened to sue, started hitting me - I have to
calm down. She'll wake up soon, and she'll be
cranky. And I love her, but she's not the nicest person
when she's cranky - to be honest, she can be a real bitch.
I'll let her sleep for a little while longer, but not too
long - I think I heard sirens a minute ago. It wouldn't look
good if she was still asleep when the cops showed up;
someone would get the wrong idea. And that's the last thing
I want. That's why it took me so long to get to this point.
All those times in the halls, going into or coming out of
classes, at lunch...all those were chances, too; ones that I let
slip. She was there, so often like that, and what did I do? I
hid; behind walls, doors, people, whatever was around. Hell, I
even once got trapped in a freakn' stall in the bathroom! It
was pathetic, what I did to avoid her - just the fear taking
control again. I let that crap, fear, self-doubt, whatever,
kick me around for way too damn long; with her, and with other
stuff, too. It was always easier to believe I couldn't and
walk away, than to try and be humiliated. That's why I
'planned' it for so long; I'd almost get the nerve to do it,
after I'd worked it through in my head, but some weaselly little
doubt would pop up, and it'd be back to the damn drawing board
again.
Then he showed up. That bastard took her away from me,
didn't even ask! Suddenly, she didn't have any time for
anyone - the two of them were friggn' glued together, it
seemed like. Now it was impossible to talk to her - I mean,
how the hell do you bare your soul to the one you love
with some guy around all the damn time? Huh? Pull a Quinn,
and get them to keep fetching you sodas and whatever? You'd
end up getting diabetes in no time flat.
Things were getting out of control. So I made a decision. I
had to tell her; no more screwing around, delaying things. I'd
tell her the truth, and then she'd see, she'd see that he could
never care for her, look after or love her, the way I knew I
could. And she'd leave him.
I was kinda harder than I thought; Lawndale High may
just be a high school, but it seems to get about a hundred times
bigger when you're looking for somebody. At least, when I'm
looking for somebody. Whatever. Anyhow, it took longer than I
thought to find her. We're destined to be together, really,
it's just that...
Now don't laugh.
It's just that I don't know that much about
her, the places she goes and stuff. I watch her, of course,
but sometimes the distance between us is pretty big. And
maybe some of the times where she's helped me out have
been like that too, but c'mon, people take advice and
stuff from TV all the time, and that's normal, right?
So we never really talked all that much, never hung out
really; my feelings for her are real, and anybody that
thinks I'm faking it, well, they can go straight to
hell.
So I eventually caught up with her, after what
felt like a million years. She was at her locker - I
know where that is and all, but I was so nervous about
this, I kinda took the long way 'round. She was talking
to someone, and just for a second I was tempted to
leave. Then I caught was she was saying.
She and this guy were going on a date, but not just
any kind of date; he was gonna take her to C'est La Ville,
the most romantic restaurant in this whole stupid town. Then,
they were gonna go and stargaze, for cryn' out loud! Just
the two of them, alone together...
No. This could NOT happen. I've been on dates like that,
and I know what happens at the end of them - and if it did,
she might never listen to me. And if that happened, I
might as well be dead, 'cause that's how I'd feel.
****************
She'd be proud of the planning I put in with so
little time; I mean, it took a little time to get over
the shock, but after that, I was thinking like I never
had before. I don't remember how I got home, but when I
did the plan was set. I'd get her to see how wrong that
guy was for her; he'd never be this dedicated for
someone he cared for, and when she heard how real
my feelings were, she'd drop him in a second.
I'd meet up with them after dinner; I didn't want
to make a scene at C'est La Ville - we might want to
go there sometime. Thankfully, Mom and Dad don't know
I can drive; it's not like they ever use the station
wagon that much anyway, and who would think to keep
an eye on a car like that when you're on a hot date?
Sandi was right; driving really is a useful social
skill.
They took a long time in the restaurant; in a
way, I'm glad I didn't have a clear view of them - I'm
sure he was pawing at her the whole time. Of course,
not seeing them meant I ended up imagining stuff like
that ANYWAY...I was so glad when they finally came out
again.
I've been to the place they went before, lots of
times, but it felt like a much longer trip this time
'round. I was so nervous (and excited, too) I nearly
lost them. When we got there, I was stuck for a
second; I'd been thinking so much about what I was
gonna say to her when we got face to face, I'd forgotten
how I'd get the scene to start. I didn't want to hurt
anyone, I mean, I can't fight worth for anything
anyway. My words were my only hope - I would just have
to confront her with them, and hope she listened to
them. I practiced what I was gonna say and I walked over
to where I'd seen them settle down to 'watch the stars':
"I never told you this before, but..." - nah; "We have to
talk..." - uh-uh; "I love you..." - God no. I mean, where
do you go from there?
That's how it happened - my walking into them, I
mean. I was concentrating so much on what I was gonna say,
I practically walked right over them! So of course they're
gonna look surprised - if it was me, I know I would.
I blame myself for the hand up her shirt - that was
my fault, for not confessing to her earlier, for letting
her see this guy, and for waiting for so damn long before
I got out of the damn car. That was what started it - when
I saw that, it was like my brain went out the window; all the
words I'd practiced just went "poof!". I just stood there for
a second, in shock I think. Then there was the look on his
face, after the surprise wore off - he was angry. At me!
Of all the nerve, actually daring to get mad at me for
interrupting something that she wasn't even enjoying
anyway! And the words he used...
I didn't mean to react that way, but I couldn't just
take that crap lying down. I started throwing words back at
him; what did he know about rudeness, about lack of
consideration - the bastard had taken her away, the one
person in this whole screwed-up world I loved -
Oh no.
I'd said it. In the middle of a screaming
fight with some guy, I'd said it.
For a moment, it was so quiet you could hear the
crickets. All thought, all everything, stopped; I looked
at her face, for a sign, a clue, for anything.
He made her do it; I'm sure of it. He made a stupid
face behind my back, or gave me bunny ears or stuck out
his tongue...She never would have, if he hadn't made her
do it. I don't care if she started before him, it was
his fault! And I always thought it was supposed to be
good for you.
After...well, it's still mostly a blur. I guess I
should be sorry about it - I wasn't myself, after all,
and I didn't mean to hit him, even if the bastard
deserved it. I just went a little - my feelings were
in control, not me, she knows that. I would
never raise a finger against her most of the time,
I just...I was angry, I guess. And then it just spiralled...
And she...she looked so scared - didn't she know I
could never...and the scream...
I close my eyes, and I can still hear it, still see
the look on her face. But I had to do it; we're meant
to be together, I know it. We'll get over this hurdle,
and be happy. She'll thank me for it when she wakes up.
And so here we are; taking a break before Round 2, I
guess you could say. It's been almost a day and a half
since the argument. We're both really tired - I want to
sleep too, but if I did, she'd be disturbed and then she'd
be cranky, and she won't listen and we'll just get tired
out being mad at each other. I can't go through that
again; so I let her rest, and I look after her,
waiting...
Don't worry Daria; I may be a lot of things, but there's
one I know I'm not.
Stacy Rowe is never disloyal.
FINIS.
*********************************************************************
Author's Notes:
This was initially submitted to "Iron Chef: Mike's Top Ten, 15/09/03, in answer to point #5 of "The Top Ten Things that never happen in Daria fanfics"; "5: A female character reveals herself to be a lesbian and confesses her love to the object of her desire, who reacts with disgust and vehement rejection." I'd written the story some time before, but hadn't had the confidence to post it; so my first thanks is to Mike Yamalkowski for coming up with the IC challenge, and giving me a much-needed kick in the a$$. Also, thanks to everyone who read it and liked it at the PPMB, and to CB, my beta-reader on this - thanks for finding that horrific spelling mistake. :P
A Daria Fanfiction
by THM
She's so delicate like this.
Lying there. So quiet. Calm. At peace. She's resting
right now; she needs it, what with all that's been going on,
and the aftermath.
I think that my revelation to her tired her out the
most. Of course, it did quite a number on me, too. What got
said isn't the kind of thing that any person just shrugs off.
But there's more to say - I'm nowhere near finished yet, and I
don't think she is, either. That's cool; we're alone here,
totally alone - I don't know if people are searching for us
or not, but where we are, there's all the time in the world.
I don't come here often (so nobody would follow), and I've
never taken anyone up here with me (so nobody would squeal).
Until now. Until her. She's special - no, not good
enough. She's spectacular! Even that's not close, but it'll
have to do - it's the best I can do, anyway. She'll appreciate
the effort, I know she will. Right now, I want to go to her,
take one of her precious hands in both of mine, wake her up,
and tell her I've found such a wonderful word to describe
her - but she can't be disturbed. She's resting, so
peaceful...it would be a crime to wake her up.
Strange. I look at her resting there, and the thing is,
the suddenness of it all hits me; this wouldn't have
happened (before), maybe not even last week. We've taken
such strides together, she and I, and so quickly. Such a
long time in coming; but I am so grateful that the time
has finally come.
I wouldn't be able to tell now, when I first
realised what it was that I felt; I mean, does anyone
remember the first time that they opened their eyes?
No; all that sticks around is the feeling of the wonderful
light, so bright it hurts but it feels so good, as it bathes
you in joy. All I remember is the joy, when I looked at
her, and my eyes opened, really opened.
I think my heart might even have stopped. Just for a
beat or two. We were at her house, talking about,
something, (I have no clue what now), and when I looked into
her eyes as she walked into the room, it hit me - hard.
Then life started again, and the moment passed. We
talked some more, maybe watched some TV, and I went
home. Everything back to normal, right? Like hell. No
such thing, not in our lives.
No going back now. That's one sure thing I know out
of all of this - there is no way to undo what's
happened. And that scares me, you know? Things could
get so ugly over this, so many people could get the
wrong idea...I look at her, that glorious face, those
eyes, even if they're hidden right now, and a sense of
peace comes over me. We'll get through this, she and I;
we've faced tough situations before, after all; she in
her way, and I in mine. And we survived those. This won't
be any different - I can feel it. She'll guide me through.
******************
I didn't really want to, but I had to go back into
town. Lawndale is such a hole; I walked around, and I
wondered how I ever thought it could be home. I'd never
really liked it all that much, and now that I knew my real
feelings, what little liking I had was gone. If I didn't
need supplies (and some money), this place would be a
spot on a rear-view mirror, I swear. Small town, small
minds, small people - no wonder this burg's biggest
attraction is a giant piece of fruit.
They were looking at me the entire time, too. At
the cash machine, in the parking lot, all around the
supermarket...so many pairs of eyes. Prying eyes. Nosy
eyes. Hateful eyes. Didn't matter what colour they were,
they were all the same: they followed me, and they made
me feel uneasy - like I was dirty or something. I had some
spot, some stain, only I couldn't see it. It was creepy,
like they could see through me, even though I was in
disguise, so I knew nobody could tell it was me. But I did
it, 'cause she needed it.
I'd do a lot of creepy stuff for her. I'd do a lot
of stuff for her, period. I'm devoted to her, though not on
a level that Joey, Jeffy, and what's-his-name (Jameel?) show
for Quinn. That's 'stupid' devotion; she leads them around
like dogs on a leash, but they still beg for treats. Mine
is 'smart' - she's my world, and I'd do anything, but I'd
at least think about some of the stuff I'm asked to do
first! If she didn't mind, of course.
It seems like that's the way it's always been with
her, really; she takes the lead, and I follow. At first
I was kinda resentful - what the hell did she know that
was so special anyway? I mean, sure, she could handle
people, situations, so well...like it was so easy for her -
too easy, almost. So what was so cool about that? Dumb
questions, really, and over time, I got to see how wrong I
was to think that way.
I think she's starting to move...no, just the wind
in her hair. I carefully brush it back into place. I love
the way her hair moves when she walks, almost like a
living thing. How she does it I don't know, but I love
it all the same. I wish my hair was like it, I've gone
looking for dye, rollers, whatever, to change it; I just
can't do it - it would've been blasphemy, not
flattery, if I'd tried. Plus, it would've given away how I
really felt before I was ready to tell her - I needed it to
be just right when I did, or else I'd lose the moment
forever.
I thought about that moment for so long, played it
out over and over in my head, so often that I almost
didn't do it for real; the fantasy became my own
romantic movie, a way of keeping me going when things
seemed like they were never going to happen, or a
pick-me-up at the end of a hard day. I was content to
plan it out, all the possibilities...doing it for real
was just too scary - what if she said no? What if she
called the cops? If she walked away, told the whole school,
threatened to sue, started hitting me - I have to
calm down. She'll wake up soon, and she'll be
cranky. And I love her, but she's not the nicest person
when she's cranky - to be honest, she can be a real bitch.
I'll let her sleep for a little while longer, but not too
long - I think I heard sirens a minute ago. It wouldn't look
good if she was still asleep when the cops showed up;
someone would get the wrong idea. And that's the last thing
I want. That's why it took me so long to get to this point.
All those times in the halls, going into or coming out of
classes, at lunch...all those were chances, too; ones that I let
slip. She was there, so often like that, and what did I do? I
hid; behind walls, doors, people, whatever was around. Hell, I
even once got trapped in a freakn' stall in the bathroom! It
was pathetic, what I did to avoid her - just the fear taking
control again. I let that crap, fear, self-doubt, whatever,
kick me around for way too damn long; with her, and with other
stuff, too. It was always easier to believe I couldn't and
walk away, than to try and be humiliated. That's why I
'planned' it for so long; I'd almost get the nerve to do it,
after I'd worked it through in my head, but some weaselly little
doubt would pop up, and it'd be back to the damn drawing board
again.
Then he showed up. That bastard took her away from me,
didn't even ask! Suddenly, she didn't have any time for
anyone - the two of them were friggn' glued together, it
seemed like. Now it was impossible to talk to her - I mean,
how the hell do you bare your soul to the one you love
with some guy around all the damn time? Huh? Pull a Quinn,
and get them to keep fetching you sodas and whatever? You'd
end up getting diabetes in no time flat.
Things were getting out of control. So I made a decision. I
had to tell her; no more screwing around, delaying things. I'd
tell her the truth, and then she'd see, she'd see that he could
never care for her, look after or love her, the way I knew I
could. And she'd leave him.
I was kinda harder than I thought; Lawndale High may
just be a high school, but it seems to get about a hundred times
bigger when you're looking for somebody. At least, when I'm
looking for somebody. Whatever. Anyhow, it took longer than I
thought to find her. We're destined to be together, really,
it's just that...
Now don't laugh.
It's just that I don't know that much about
her, the places she goes and stuff. I watch her, of course,
but sometimes the distance between us is pretty big. And
maybe some of the times where she's helped me out have
been like that too, but c'mon, people take advice and
stuff from TV all the time, and that's normal, right?
So we never really talked all that much, never hung out
really; my feelings for her are real, and anybody that
thinks I'm faking it, well, they can go straight to
hell.
So I eventually caught up with her, after what
felt like a million years. She was at her locker - I
know where that is and all, but I was so nervous about
this, I kinda took the long way 'round. She was talking
to someone, and just for a second I was tempted to
leave. Then I caught was she was saying.
She and this guy were going on a date, but not just
any kind of date; he was gonna take her to C'est La Ville,
the most romantic restaurant in this whole stupid town. Then,
they were gonna go and stargaze, for cryn' out loud! Just
the two of them, alone together...
No. This could NOT happen. I've been on dates like that,
and I know what happens at the end of them - and if it did,
she might never listen to me. And if that happened, I
might as well be dead, 'cause that's how I'd feel.
****************
She'd be proud of the planning I put in with so
little time; I mean, it took a little time to get over
the shock, but after that, I was thinking like I never
had before. I don't remember how I got home, but when I
did the plan was set. I'd get her to see how wrong that
guy was for her; he'd never be this dedicated for
someone he cared for, and when she heard how real
my feelings were, she'd drop him in a second.
I'd meet up with them after dinner; I didn't want
to make a scene at C'est La Ville - we might want to
go there sometime. Thankfully, Mom and Dad don't know
I can drive; it's not like they ever use the station
wagon that much anyway, and who would think to keep
an eye on a car like that when you're on a hot date?
Sandi was right; driving really is a useful social
skill.
They took a long time in the restaurant; in a
way, I'm glad I didn't have a clear view of them - I'm
sure he was pawing at her the whole time. Of course,
not seeing them meant I ended up imagining stuff like
that ANYWAY...I was so glad when they finally came out
again.
I've been to the place they went before, lots of
times, but it felt like a much longer trip this time
'round. I was so nervous (and excited, too) I nearly
lost them. When we got there, I was stuck for a
second; I'd been thinking so much about what I was
gonna say to her when we got face to face, I'd forgotten
how I'd get the scene to start. I didn't want to hurt
anyone, I mean, I can't fight worth for anything
anyway. My words were my only hope - I would just have
to confront her with them, and hope she listened to
them. I practiced what I was gonna say and I walked over
to where I'd seen them settle down to 'watch the stars':
"I never told you this before, but..." - nah; "We have to
talk..." - uh-uh; "I love you..." - God no. I mean, where
do you go from there?
That's how it happened - my walking into them, I
mean. I was concentrating so much on what I was gonna say,
I practically walked right over them! So of course they're
gonna look surprised - if it was me, I know I would.
I blame myself for the hand up her shirt - that was
my fault, for not confessing to her earlier, for letting
her see this guy, and for waiting for so damn long before
I got out of the damn car. That was what started it - when
I saw that, it was like my brain went out the window; all the
words I'd practiced just went "poof!". I just stood there for
a second, in shock I think. Then there was the look on his
face, after the surprise wore off - he was angry. At me!
Of all the nerve, actually daring to get mad at me for
interrupting something that she wasn't even enjoying
anyway! And the words he used...
I didn't mean to react that way, but I couldn't just
take that crap lying down. I started throwing words back at
him; what did he know about rudeness, about lack of
consideration - the bastard had taken her away, the one
person in this whole screwed-up world I loved -
Oh no.
I'd said it. In the middle of a screaming
fight with some guy, I'd said it.
For a moment, it was so quiet you could hear the
crickets. All thought, all everything, stopped; I looked
at her face, for a sign, a clue, for anything.
He made her do it; I'm sure of it. He made a stupid
face behind my back, or gave me bunny ears or stuck out
his tongue...She never would have, if he hadn't made her
do it. I don't care if she started before him, it was
his fault! And I always thought it was supposed to be
good for you.
After...well, it's still mostly a blur. I guess I
should be sorry about it - I wasn't myself, after all,
and I didn't mean to hit him, even if the bastard
deserved it. I just went a little - my feelings were
in control, not me, she knows that. I would
never raise a finger against her most of the time,
I just...I was angry, I guess. And then it just spiralled...
And she...she looked so scared - didn't she know I
could never...and the scream...
I close my eyes, and I can still hear it, still see
the look on her face. But I had to do it; we're meant
to be together, I know it. We'll get over this hurdle,
and be happy. She'll thank me for it when she wakes up.
And so here we are; taking a break before Round 2, I
guess you could say. It's been almost a day and a half
since the argument. We're both really tired - I want to
sleep too, but if I did, she'd be disturbed and then she'd
be cranky, and she won't listen and we'll just get tired
out being mad at each other. I can't go through that
again; so I let her rest, and I look after her,
waiting...
Don't worry Daria; I may be a lot of things, but there's
one I know I'm not.
Stacy Rowe is never disloyal.
FINIS.
*********************************************************************
Author's Notes:
This was initially submitted to "Iron Chef: Mike's Top Ten, 15/09/03, in answer to point #5 of "The Top Ten Things that never happen in Daria fanfics"; "5: A female character reveals herself to be a lesbian and confesses her love to the object of her desire, who reacts with disgust and vehement rejection." I'd written the story some time before, but hadn't had the confidence to post it; so my first thanks is to Mike Yamalkowski for coming up with the IC challenge, and giving me a much-needed kick in the a$$. Also, thanks to everyone who read it and liked it at the PPMB, and to CB, my beta-reader on this - thanks for finding that horrific spelling mistake. :P