July 30, 2010

A/N: Thanks to StarReader86 and Sun-chan1 for reviewin my first chapter of my very first Daria story. Very awesome.

Recap: Not like the first chapter was long, but still. We find out Daria was in a horrific car accident as a result Helen and Jake run to her side, leaving Quinn with no one to attend her high school graduation. Jane collects Quinn afterward, though runs into some old friends first. Oh, and Kevin finally graduated. Hey, if at first you don't succeed, try, try, again. And so we move on to chapter 2 of 'If Nothing Else' . . .

Chapter 2: Home Sweet Home

Soon they arrived, the double doors hissing open to allow Quinn, Jane, Jodie, and Mack to enter. Still wearing her blue gown, her tassel jumping as the young Morgendoffer girl clopped in her heels into the lobby. Helen was first to notice her daughter and the barrage of people behind her. "Quinn! Thank God you're here!" Mrs. Morgendoffer was made-up nicely, a knee length skirt and red silk blouse. Jake had a green polo and tan slacks. More casual than Helen would approve, but with a rising concern for Mr. Morgendoffer's heart, his over-worked wife let it slide. "How are you holding up?"

Fumbling to articulate an answer, Quinn mumbled at first. "I, uh, I'm fine. What happened? Is she all right?"

"We don't know yet. The doctor won't tell us," Helen answered, her voice rising in pitch from frustration. The double doors slide open to reveal Trent, wearing a black t-shirt with a rock emblem. His jeans ripped and wrinkled, Trent glided into the room.

"Trent?" Jane called, confused why her older brother was there.

Like an aimless snail, Trent arrived by the growing group of people. "You ran off to tell Daria's sister the news before I could," Trent coughs interrupting the flow of his speech, "get the car. When I didn't see you at the school I figured you were here. Thought I'd, like, be here for you and Daria."

"Wow, that's awesome! Thanks man!" Jake responded. "Are you all here for Daria?" he asked, looking at Jodie and Mack, who stood uncomfortable behind the others.

"Uh, kind of, we needed a lift," Jane elaborated.

"Uh, maybe I could help. I was a candy striper at the hospital," Jodie informed, getting a not-to-discrete eye roll from Jane. Ignoring it though, she continued, "I may be able to try and move things along faster." As the African American girl sought out a familiar face, the rest claimed seats. The lobby area was unusually empty. Peach colored walls, trimmed with a grape painted wood bar, and unidentifiable blue-purple wall paper on the bottom half didn't make any of them feel more at ease about waiting in a hospital for news about Daria. The chairs were standard, offering cushion, but not overly plush or lavish. Quinn nestled next to Trent, starring out dumbly. Obviously still processing everything, Quinn clutched her padded diploma cover like a frightened child would her beloved teddy bear. Helen rose, pacing back and forth, her heels clicking like a ticking clock.

"You can probably take that off," Mack said, sitting across from Quinn. Startled, the red head nodded and unzipped the gown. Underneath the sophisticated tarp-like cloak, Quinn was wearing a simple yellow dress, a white belt wrapped around her thin waist. "Wow, nice dress."

"Tha-thanks," Quinn choked, remembering it had taken her weeks to choose a dress for a moment that was long gone, or so it felt.

Trent caught sight of the diploma, the unzipped gown, and the cap Quinn slowly, almost ceremoniously relinquished to the chair next to her. "Hey, Daria's sister," seeing Quinn look up at him, "Congrats."

While Trent and she were not close friends, for he often referred to as "Daria's sister", Quinn fought the urge to hug him. At least one person noticed. "Thanks Trent."

"No prob."

-Daria-

Daria batted her eyes, adjusting to the light. Why can't I see? Oh my God, I'm blind. A piercing scream resulted in several nurses and a doctor racing to tend to their frightened patient.

"Miss Morgendorffer, please calm down," the doctor asked. The nurses, all middle aged, tried to hush the woman.

"Miss Morgendorffer – Daria!" the doctor yelled. Placing his cream, soft hand on her slim, white forearm, he gained the young woman's attention. "Here, put these on," the doctor ordered, handing Daria her glasses. Slowly the brunette girl placed the hefty frames on her face. "Better?" the doctor asked.

"I guess," she muttered, touching the frames delicately with her slender fingers. "Wha-what am I doing here, doctor . . . ?"

"Uh, Dr. Phillips" unguarded by the question, the doctor arched an eyebrow in confusion. "You were in a terrible car accident, Daria. The driver behind you had a seizure and slammed into your car propelling you into oncoming traffic, in which your car fishtailed clipping another car from the other side of the intersection as I was told by the onsite officer . . . um, anyway," Dr. Phillips cleared his throat, "You're very fortunate to have survived and not incurred any severe injuries. The gentleman driving the car that hit you is in a coma and the older man that had the seizure died, and, uh, yup, you're one lucky girl, Daria." He patted her right knee, awkwardly.

Squinting up at the handsome man, his hand nervously running through his wavy, dark hair, the Morgendorffer girl gripped the sheets. He's drop dead gorgeous. Dead . . . I could be dead right now? Eeep! She mulled over her choice of words carefully before finally coming to a decision.

"I'm going to tell your family and friends you're awake, Daria." He tapped his pen against the clipboard in conclusion that she was okay, or as okay as a crash victim could be. A large bandage was taped over the right side of her forehead, a swollen lip, some small cuts from where shattered window glass had graced her bare arms, and her left leg hidden safely under the bed sheets, recuperating from being exposed to the mental shard that badly bruised her leg were the least of Daria's worries.

"Daria?" the doctor called again, looking for some form of understanding, he leaned in closer to the young woman.

"Yes, I – I think I have a problem. No, I definitely have a problem."

"What is it, Daria?"

"I can't remember the accident," taking a breath as she began to succumb to a growing fear.

He chuckled, "That's not uncommon, you're mind probably blocked the traumatic event out. You may or may not get that memory back. Though, given the circumstances I think that you should –"

"No!" Daria cut the doctor off. "I mean I can't remember anything," she stressed, her eyes pleading with the young doctor to solve her problem, and quell her fears.

-Daria-

Quinn paced back and forth outside the hospital entrance, talking on her cell phone. "No, Stacy, I'll still be able to attend the cruise. The doctor said Daria will be fine. She has amnesia, but that her memory will be back to normal in a few days. And I think –"

Jane yanked Quinn's phone from her and snapped it shut. "Daria is going to need your help, Quinn. Those memories aren't going to come back by themselves." Despite Quinn's newly acquried understanding that she was not the center of the universe, sometimes the youngest Morgendorffer fell into step with her old selfish ways; usually in a time upmost inconvenient.

"But, you spent more time with her than I did. You know her better than I do," Quinn countered. Am I not supposed to enjoy my graduation?

"Yeah, but I figured seeing as you have known her for, oh say, eighteen years, that counted for something," Jane finished, seeing Helen through the glass double doors, searching for her younger daughter, Jane knew that she would soon have to end this heartwarming conversation.

Holding Quinn's arm in a death grip, Jane squeezed it tighter every passing second, trying to get her point across. If at first you don't succeed, always use force, thought Jane as she watched Quinn begin to show signs of suffering; the redhead wincing from the pain. "Okay, okay," Quinn conceded, watching Jane release her arm. "I'll help Daria. God, it's not like I have anything important to do."

Jane noted the bitterness in Quinn's voice, but ignored it for the sake of not enticing the girl to back out of their deal.

Quinn waited out the artist's steely gaze and for Jane to retreat back into the hospital before calling Stacy back. God only knows what Jane hanging up on Stacy did to the girl's self –esteem. "No, Stacy, that wasn't me. That was my sister's friend. Yeah – no, Stacy I'm not lying to you. NO STACY!" Quinn sighed, "Ugh, no I don't think that anyone will notice the uneven tan developed from the gowns . . ."

Jane passed Helen in the small overhang, catching the last tid-bits of Quinn's conversation with Stacy before Helen's bull-charging interruption. Whatever's got Quinn's scrunchie in twist better undo itself as this is not the time for her to pull a Mr. Hyde and become a Fashion Club drone, again.

-Daria—

Daria released from the hospital three days later; warranted that Daria return in a week for Dr. Phillips to seek how she was doing, Helen escorted her still memory-less daughter up to her room. Everyone was excited . . . well, almost everyone.

"Uh, so this is my room?" Daria hesitated. Helen laughed nervously, seeing the flush look on her eldest daughter's face. "Um, am I a schizophrenic or something?" Daria timidly asked, biting back the want to scream as the window's razor sharp teeth, the un-sawed bars smiled at her. Daria cautiously touched the padded wall, leery her fingers would adhere to the well-worn cushioning, and she would soon be swallowed up by the nightmarish décor. "Whoa." Daria jumped a little, suddenly seeing the semi-exposed skeleton poster, turning away, Daria screamed, finding the skull replica waiting for on her desk. "This isn't a joke, is it?" she pled, a shadow of hope seeping into Daria's question.

Laughing out of nervousness at the irony of the scene, Helen dropped Daria's clothing bag on the floor, watching her daughter carefully examine her room some more. "Sweetie, I assure you there is nothing wrong with you." Daria took in her room, the small uneven piles of books. "I read all those?" she asked skeptically, pointing to the small towers. Do I have a social life?

"You love to read, and when we moved here you decided not to redecorate. It's . . . . uh," Helen struggled, "like your own little get away." Helen placed a comforting arm around her daughter, pulling Daria closer to her. To say Helen was surprised to have Daria not pull away would be the understatement of the century as in fact, the bespectacled-teen rest her head against her mother.

"From what?" Daria retorted, discovering the anatomically model of the human heart. Please tell me I want to be a doctor, Daria prayed silently to herself. "Do we have a guest bedroom?" Feeling compelled not to insult her mother, she quickly added, "It just feels too overwhelming . . . it looks like a room from the psyche ward," sure to mutter the second part, Daria looked to her mother for an answer.

-Daria-

Quinn listened from inside her bedroom door. She could hear her mother talking to her sister, but as her mother moved her sister into the guest bedroom, Quinn failed to pick up anything else from their conversation. Sitting with her knees pressed against her, Quinn bit her bottom lip nervously; her heart aching, a pulsating thought bundled in the back of her mind, fearing that she might have lost something – someone important.

~ End Chapter 2

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