Disclaimer: The Buffy and Angel characters were created by Joss Whedon. Daria and its characters were created by Glenn Eichler. I own the storyline.
X X X X X
Angel had called Kate back and filled her in on what Wesley had told him.
"You're kidding," she'd said.
"I wish I was," had been Angel's response. "But it's pretty much par for the course for the Watcher's Council. They figure they're going to chew these girls up and spit them out anyway, so why waste time trying to fix the broken ones? If Faith -- Daria -- had been delusional, they'd probably just have had her killed and moved on to the next one."
"That is monstrous," Kate had said.
"I'm with you there. So, what's the reaction inside the department likely to be when this all comes out?"
Kate had said, "Most cops don't like the insanity defense even when the person using it is clearly batshit out of their tree. In a situation like this they're likely to see it as just someone else trying to fake their way out of jail."
"What do you think?" Angel'd asked.
"It's not my area of expertise. I track them down and arrest them, I don't judge their defenses. But if this is a genuine split personality I wouldn't object to making sure she got cured and then letting her go. As long as she is cured."
"I'm going to do my best to make sure that happens," Angel'd said.
"It's not going to be easy," Kate had said. "There'll be objections from the police, from the DA, from the public if they find out, and probably the family of Allan Finch as well.
"And Kate, I hate to do this to you --"
"But you want me to keep my ears open and see if I can give you a heads-up?" Angel had said yes. "Sure. I'm not leaving LA for another month or so anyway."
"Long sabbatical," Angel had commented
Kate had taken it the right way. "It's not like I didn't need it."
"True enough. Thanks, Kate."
Then he'd hung up.
In the intervening couple of days, he and Wes hadn't told anyone, not even Cordelia or Gunn. And if he was having a hard time telling Cordy . . .
Imagine what it would be like telling Buffy.
X X X X X
Faith looked at Daria. "So, you're who they say I used to be, huh?" When she looked closely, she could see the resemblance. Maybe she could've even guessed they were related. But the same person?
"I am who you used to be. And you're who I became," Daria said. "Let me guess. You're not impressed."
"No. But I don't impress easy. And I bet you can say the same."
Daria smiled faintly. "No. But I don't impress easily, either."
"You don't look like that anymore, you know," Faith said.
"Actually, I don't. I have yet to see a mirror. Or anything but the inside of a prison conference room. Or any person but Dr. Vaughn. For all I know we're the last two people on Earth, and the aliens are conducting some kind of strange scientific experiment."
"Didn't happen," Faith said. The reality was stranger than that, but she wasn't sure Daria was ready for it.
"Well, that's good to know, at least. My phaser skills are rusty."
"So, what did you want to talk about? 'cause if you're looking for me to catch you up on the last four seasons of X-Files, gotta say, you coulda just let me write it down."
"I appreciate the offer. Really. But my tastes run more towards Sick Sad World." She paused and said, "And you know what we have to talk about."
"I'm real," Faith said.
"I never said you weren't," Daria said. "But I'm real too. Is your reality more important than mine?"
"I ain't saying I'd like doing it to you. But if it's a choice between you and me, you lose."
"I'm not interested in making this some kind of competition," Daria said. "But considering that in my 16 years of existence I didn't get arrested for jaywalking while in your four you've managed to get arrested for something bad enough to mandate regular visits from a psychiatrist, I might profitably argue that my life is worth more than yours." She paused. "If I were making it a competition, that is."
Faith bristled, then caught something. Daria hadn't known what she'd done. "Dr. Vaughn hasn't filled you in on my history, ha she?"
"Hasn't done more than mention your name. Where did Faith come from?"
Shrugging, Faith said, "It's been my name as far as I can remember. My middle and last name came from my W--" She stopped herself. The last thing she needed was Daria telling Dr. Vaughn that Faith was delusional enough to believe in vampires. "From my temporary guardian," she said, correcting herself.
"Funny how temporary doesn't begin with 'W," Daria said. "But do go on."
"Yeah. What I did. How long a version do you want?"
"I'm not interested in the epic miniseries."
"Okay. Short and sweet, then. I killed people. Two of them. One by accident, but I covered it up. The other . . . On purpose, because my boss at the time asked me to. I confessed to both of 'em and I got 25 to life."
"You killed people? I killed people?"
"I killed people," Faith said. "You weren't there."
"Okay, I think I want the miniseries," Daria said, glaring.
Faith told her an edited version of her life -- basically, leaving out the vampires and magic, but nothing else. After she wound up by saying, "And he convinced me to turn myself in. To pay for what I'd done. And that's what I'm doing here right now. Paying."
"What the hell happened to me to turn me into you?" Daria said. "A murderer. A robber. A vicious, uneducated thug. What happened?" Faith took the descriptions in stride, mostly because they were all true. She was working on 'uneducated thug,' but she still had a long way to go.
Assuming she ever got a chance to get there.
"I wish I could tell you," Faith said. "The only thing I know is it happened on April 10, 1997. Apparently when I went under I told the doc that's the day I was born. I remember it as the day of my fifteenth birthday and the day I found my mom dead."
"Is my Mom dead?" Daria said. "Is my family dead?"
"I don't know," Faith said. "The doc never told me that, either. All she said was that I was born you."
"If you ever find out, and you get the chance to talk to me again like this, let me know."
"Daria . . ." Faith said. "I don't think I'd have memories of my folks bein' dead if --"
"You don't know that," Daria said tightly. "And I'm not going to accept it without proof. My mom may be a workaholic, my Dad may be tightly-wound, easily distracted, and a horrible cook, and my sister may be flighty and obsessed with fashion, but they're my family, and even though I say it to them maybe twice a year, I love them, and they love me. And as far as I'm concerned they're still alive and your memories of your dead parents are completely fictional. Do you understand me?"
"Understood," Faith said. Then, quietly, "What are their names? I mean, they're my parents, too." Faith was sure they were dead. But if Daria wasn't ready to handle it, so be it."
"Jake, Helen, and Quinn."
Faith said. "Yeah. Thought so. That's the phrase the doc uses to make me go away for a while." After a second. "Thanks."
"You're welcome," Daria said. "Faith Ellen Lehay." Faith must've looked confused, because Daria said, "That's the one she uses for me."
"Lehane," Faith said. "That's my last name."
"I wonder where I got that from," Daria said.
"My guardian gave me the middle and last names," Faith said. "When she found me all I knew was that my name was Faith." She shook her head. "Guess I should've figured something was up then. But even now it's kind of hard to accept that I'm not real."
"Do you think it's any easier to accept that something so horrible happened to me -- who, by the way, is not a murderer, not a robber, not vicious, not uneducated, and not a thug -- that I had to become you to deal with it?"
"I guess not," Faith said.
"Even if Dr. Vaughn somehow manages to integrate us, my life is effectively over. Even under the best of circumstances, I'll be an undereducated 20-year old whom people will believe got away with murder on a technicality."
"Maybe not undereducated," Faith said. "I'm working on my GED."
Daria said, "That's something, at least."
"'sides, you strike me as the kind of person who doesn't give a flying fuck what other people think of you."
"I don't. But I'd prefer them not to be chasing after me with pitchforks and torches, either."
Faith understood what she meant. "So, what do we do now?"
"We try to figure out what happened on April 10, 1997. Maybe if we do that we can find out why I became you, and start taking steps for me actually getting my life back."
"I'm with you on the first. On the second, though -- remember, if you get your life back mine goes away."
"Not necessarily, Faith. If we integrated, we'd become one person with all the memories. If not -- I'll do my best not to accept a solution that results in you completely disappearing if you'll agree to do the same."
"What? You want to have a vicious, murdering thug be part of your life?"
Daria sighed. "You already are."
X X X X X
The next time Daria was aware, after the dream where she talked with Faith, she was in the same room, and Dr. Vaughn was once again sitting across the table from her. "Look down, Daria," the doctor said.
Written on a piece of paper in front if her were the words, "The dental records match. I'm you, you're me. Like we hadn't already figured that out." Faith was right. The dental records were just a formality. "Also, Told the doc we talked. She didn't believe it. She said it was just a dream. Prove her wrong."
Daria said, "Faith's in jail for two counts of murder. She's serving 25 to life. And she doesn't clearly remember April 10, 1997, any more than I do. She says that when you had her under she said that was the day she was born. Which I guess also makes it the day I died. Until you brought me back a week or so ago." She looked steadily into Dr. Vaughn's brown eyes. "How does it feel to have the power of life and death, Dr. Frankenstein?"
"I don't kill you," the psychiatrist said.
"It feels like it. When one doesn't exist except at the whim of someone else, one could reasonably said to be dead in the interim. Every time you say 'Jake, Helen, Quinn,' to Faith, I spring to life. And every time you say 'Faith Ellen Lehane' to me, I die again. It's the reverse for Faith."
"I'm not doing this just for the hell of it, Daria," Dr. Vaughn said.
"That actually isn't that much of a comfort." After letting that sink in, Daria said, "So. The only way to fix this problem is to figure out what happened during the missing day. Faith's recollections are spotty, but they're better than mine. The last thing I remember is reading my copy of Samuel R. Delany's Dhalgren. Kind of prophetic, actually. But that was the night of April 9."
"That's what I'm trying to do," Dr. Vaughn said.
"Good. So we're in agreement. So. What happened to my family?"