Author's note: Let's just assume she had that outfit when she was still in Highland, okay?
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created Faith, Angel, and Wesley. Glenn Eichler created Daria Morgendorffer. The plot and the other characters are mine."
X X X X X
"Good," Angel said. "I'm in the mood for a good laugh." The tone in his voice said otherwise.
"Angel, I—"
"And if you're about to give me some line about how this was Council business and none of mine, you can save it. How did you know the name 'Daria?'"
"Actually," Wesley said, "I was trying to figure out what to tell you first. I guess the first thing I should do is clear everyone else. Giles knew none of this."
"Good to know," Angel said. "Now what's this 'this' he didn't know?"
Sighing, Wesley said, "Faith wasn't born Faith. The Council keeps records of all of the potential Slayers. Buffy, if you remember, slipped through the cracks. That rarely happens. There was never a record of a potential Slayer named 'Faith Lehane.' But there was one of a young girl from Texas named 'Daria Morgendorffer.' When she disappeared, her file was placed in the 'deceased' part of the Council's records."
"Get on with it, Wes," Angel said impatiently.
"I'm giving you all the necessary background information," Wesley said. "There are certain things that cannot be boiled down to a five-second sound bite. This is one of them." He paused for a second and then said, "Anyway, imagine our surprise when we discovered Ms. Morgendorffer had been activated – and in Boston. Imagine our double surprise when she identified herself as a young woman named 'Faith Lehane' and stubbornly insisted that that was her name – and that she was a year younger than our records indicated."
Angel couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not that he had any great faith in the Watcher's council, anyway, but this? "And you didn't think to, oh, I don't know, notify her family? Or maybe try to figure out why she was going by a new name?"
"I'm not personally to blame for any of this," Wesley said. "It was presented to me as a fait accompli when I was assigned to take over for Giles as Buffy and Faith's watcher."
"What could they have been thinking? Taking someone who was unstable –"Angel wondered if that could have been the root of Faith's later issues. Actually, wonder was far too mild a term.
"Their thinking was that there was a second Slayer, and that taking several months to restore her to sanity wasn't worth the time effort." He grinned ruefully. "It is a position I have come to loathe. The Council figured that Faith was stable enough as her current personality that the fact that she had been born Daria Morgendorffer was irrelevant. They got her a Social Security number, dummied up a birth certificate, and Faith Lehane was now a legal resident of the United States. They wanted someone out there killing vampires and demons now, not in six months or two years or however long it would take to restore her."
"And so they sacrificed an innocent girl," Angel said contemptuously.
"Yes. To my shame and Faith – and Daria's – detriment. Not a day goes by that I don't wish we'd gotten help for her years ago." Then he added. "I hope now she can get that help. And I wish there was something more we could do about it."
"Did the Council have anything to do with creating Faith?" Angel asked.
"If the Council were going to create a Slayer, don't you think they would have made one who was a bit more . . . pliable? No, Faith came to us more or less fully formed. Our crime was in the cover-up."
"Why haven't you mentioned anything about this before?"
"To what end? I never once saw any hint of Daria Morgendorffer in Faith. I'd assumed she was gone for good."
"Maybe we could have helped her, Wes!"
"By the time she needed the help, it was already too late," Wesley said.
"I'm telling you this much," Angel said. "Whatever we can do to help her, at this point, we do. No arguments."
"I wasn't going to make any."
X X X X X
As Lynette Vaughn signed in at the prison entrance. As she got ready for the search – and the guards were always thorough, Bonnie wasn't going to let them slack off just because the guards had seen Lynette a hundred times – one of them said, "Dr. Vaughn? Warden Juarez said she'd like to see you before your appointment."
"Thanks, Chris," she said, and made her way to Bonnie's office. She knocked on the door and was told to come in.
"Lynette," Bonnie said. "This should only take a minute. It's about Lehane."
"The police compared the dental records."
"Yeah, they did," Bonnie said. "And you were right. Faith Lehane is in fact Daria Morgendorffer."
Lynette sat down. "So. What now?"
"Well, you're still her court-mandated psychiatrist until someone tells me differently, so you can go right ahead and try to cure her. As for the legal aspects – I was waiting till I talked to you to make my appointment with the District Attorney."
"Not sure whether we should hand it over?"
Sighing, Bonnie said, "That's part of it, yeah. I'm not that much of a fucking coward, but it's possible the DA'll come down hard on us even for mentioning it."
"You want me to take the lead, then?" Lynette asked. "I'll tell them I pushed you into doing it for me." People would believe this, too. Having a rep as someone who was willing to take no prisoners to do the right thing could be something of a benefit at time. She'd cheerfully take the hit if it'd help Bonnie. She counted the woman as a friend, and that's what friends did.
"No," Bonnie said. "Like I said, I'm no coward. I've known this was going to be trouble all along. If I'd wanted to back out I could've done so."
Nodding her head, Lynette said, "Make the appointment, then. You know my schedule here; anything else, I'll work around."
She left the Warden's office, and after getting through the guard station, went into the room where Faith was waiting.
"Good to see you, Doc," Faith said. "How's it hanging?"
"Pretty good. You?"
"Same ol' same ol'. Study, work out a bit, sleep, you know the drill. I've been reading a lot about the Kennedy assassination recently, trying to catch up on my history."
"And do you believe it was a conspiracy?"
"Naah. I think the cover-up came after when everyone figured out how badly they'd fucked up the security and all that."
"Interesting. I just got some interesting news about you," Lynette said. She'd been thinking about Daria's request and decided that it was time to tell Faith the truth.
"Spill, then. I'd like to hear it."
"One of the things you told me when you were under hypnosis is that you were born on April 10, 1997."
"Interesting. I have no idea what that means, though."
That was perceptive of her. A bit more perceptive than she knew, unfortunately. "You're right. Tell me," she said a bit more conversationally. "What do you remember about your childhood?"
"One lousy day after another – an angry father, an annoying sister – until they both left – and a mother who hit me regular, when she wasn't busy drinking up a storm." She'd have to ask Daria about her impressions of her parents and sister. Helen Morgendorffer hadn't been a drunk; she'd been a workaholic.
"Anything specific?"
Faith shrugged. "Not really. It's all just one big blur, for the most part, until the day I came home and found my Mom dead." Of course, that date had been April 10, 1997.
"So would you say your life started then?"
Faith smiled. "I think I see what you're getting at. That's why when you had me under I said I was born on April 10. 'cause that's when my life really got started."
Lynette sighed. "More than you know, Faith," she said.
Faith looked at her suspiciously. "What do you mean?"
"Do you know what DID is?"
"I know it spells 'did.' Otherwise, no clue."
"How about Multiple Personality Disorder?"
"Yeah. That's when someone had some kind of trauma so something in 'em comes up with an entirely new personality to deal with it." Apparently Lynette's look was one of disbelief, because Faith said, "You watch enough Law & Order, you pick shit up. Anyway, what does – hold it. You sayin' I got another personality?"
"No, Faith. I'm saying you are another personality."
X X X X X
Faith couldn't believe it. "What the hell are you talking about?" she said angrily.
The doc said, "I mean, you're not . . . You."
"Who the fuck else would I be?" Despite her anger, Faith didn't move from the chair. She knew the guards would be in here in seconds if she got up now.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Damn right I do."
"Jake, Helen, Qui--"
X X X X X
"Oh goody. Another sojourn into the land of the living," Daria said.
"I'm trying to prove something to Faith," Dr. Vaughn said. "I told her she was a split personality and she's having trouble believing it. I want you to write something down here." She handed Daria a pen and a sheet of paper.
Daria wrote down, "Help! I'm being held prisoner inside my own body!" Dr. Vaughn said, "Sign it, please." Daria did so, then said, "You're sending me away again, aren't you?"
"Not forever," Dr. Vaughn said. "I promise you that. Faith Ellen Leha--"
X X X X X
Faith was jolted back into herself. "Look at the piece of paper," Dr. Vaughn said. Looking down, Faith saw the phrase "Help! I'm being held prisoner inside my own body!" and a signature: "Daria Morgendorffer."
"Doc," she said, "This doesn't prove anything."
"You think I wrote it?"
"Or maybe I did under hypnosis."
The doc took the sheet of paper and scribbled out the same sentence. "Now you," she said. Faith wrote it out. "Check all three sentences," she said. "They're not even close."
After examining all three, Faith had to concede that none of them looked alike. Of course, she wasn't a handwriting expert. "Do you believe me now?" Dr. Vaughn asked.
"How do you know I'm the split? Maybe Daria is --"
But the Doc shook her head, saying, "I've got a dozen reasons, Faith -- but I can tell you're not ready to accept any of them."
"How would you feel if someone came up to you and said, 'You're not real, I got proof?' Don't answer. It would scare the shit out of you." She looked up at the woman and said, "I don't want to go away forever."
"Ideally, Faith, you won't."
"But since when is my life ever ideal?" Faith said bitterly.
The therapy session wound down after that. Faith went through the rest of the day mechanically.
When she fell asleep that night she had a dream.
She was back in the apartment Mayor Wilkins had gotten her. She knew she only dreamed about this place when it was something important.
She felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she saw a girl of about 16. Her height, with dark straight hair, a green jacket, a black skirt, thick glasses, and bulky boots. "My name's Daria," the girl said. "We need to talk."