Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Though she would be loath to admit it, Daria had been excited for college. The change of pace was direly needed, and after learning that she wouldn’t have to part with Jane, she was as close to eager as she really could be. She was unsurprised, if internally a bit disappointed, to find that college was not all that different from high school. In high school, Daria was always the big fish, and she figured that when she got to college, the bigger pond, she may find some more big fish or however the phrase goes. This was not the case. Even among the haughtiest of academics, the social hierarchy remained, and Daria was last on the food chain yet again. But how much could she really complain? At least the teachers were decent. Plus, even if the crowd was disenchanting she still had Jane to spend time with. Jane, with her disciples at art school. Daria had to admit she was impressed with how well Jane was adjusting to college life. Perhaps a bit envious, but proud for the most part. She wasn’t big on her joining groups, though. There was only so much time they both could get off from work to hang out, and the more groups she joined the less time they had together. Daria refused to be one of those creepy, possessive people who isolates their friends from the outside world. The issue was that she herself was isolated. 

She just felt tired of people, of the small-talk, of the godforsaken parties. If she got one more guy bringing up Jungian psychology or whatever in an effort to flirt with her she would shoot herself. Her life was a cycle of work, writing and sleep, and seeing Jane Lane was really the only bright side to her current situation. Was that weird? Who cares? Well, they were eating pizza and drinking wine in the living room of Jane’s apartment when the trouble began. 

“We’re both still single, right?”, Jane asked, taking a sip of her rosé. Daria glanced over at Jane.

“Of course. Do you honestly think, given how much I bitch about my life, that I wouldn’t mention if I was dating someone?”, Daria said, looking anywhere that wasn’t Jane.

“Just checking. Are you looking? Going to parties? Engaging in recreational ketamine use?”

“Not really, to any of those things. I don’t really care about dating. It’s unproductive”, Daria said, snarking it up in the hopes Jane would drop the subject.

“What, are you a machine? Where’s your joie de vivre?”.

“Must’ve lost it along with my spice of life and my get-up-and-go”.

“We should go out to a club sometime. Blow off some steam, maybe meet some guys. They say this city’s got various types of scenes and places that contain scenes. We could see the scenes”.

“I’m sorry but that really isn’t my idea of fun”. 

“Do you have an idea of fun, Daria? Can you c onceptualize fun?”.

“ This is my idea of fun, Jane. Sitting here, arguing with you, and rotting our brains with TV and pizza. To me, this is the pinnacle of hedonism. This is my social life”. Jane was initially a bit offended, but she realized before she spoke that Daria wasn’t really joking, at least not fully.

“Well, I wouldn’t choose to kvetch away the solitude with anyone else, Cheers”, Jane said, smiling a bit and weakly clinking her glass against Daria’s. Daria stared at Jane, as they took big sips of their wine. Jane smiled and grabbed Daria's hand. This was not uncharted territory between them, but there was something about it that felt strange that night. Perhaps it was the wine making her tired, but all she wanted to do at that moment was to lean on Jane. Was that weird of her to think? Certainly not. She had leaned on her countless times. But that night she felt nervous about getting too close to Jane. For the past three years she had mostly managed to avoid getting very close to her, except in rare moments of emotional upheaval. There was an unspoken gap between them, one that Daria had formed out of protection for her own sanity. But a part of her really wanted to get over the gap that night. 

“You okay, Daria?”.

“I’m fine”.

“You’re not slick, buddy”.

“Just drop it”.

“I’m sorry?”.

“Oh, don’t be. I’m sorry, you know how it is. Building my own personal hell”, Daria mined paving bricks.

“Is that so? Do I have a place there among your demons, oh brooding maiden?”. Daria snorted. 

“Trust me, you’re an angel”. Jane paused, staring at her friend.

“If I didn’t know you better I’d say you’re trying to flirt with me”. Realization at the implications of her words dawned on Daria she inched a ways away from Jane 

“Don’t make it weird”.

“Oh c’mon, there’s nothing weird about girls liking girls. It is 2000 and fucking 5, Daria. The future is now”, Jane said, slamming her fist on the sofa’s arm. 

“I’m not anti-lesbian, it’s just that I’m not one. I get called it enough by other people I don’t wanna hear it from you too”. 

“First of all, I would never use that word as an insult. Do you know how jealous I am of lesbians? They got it totally figured out, man. That’s the way to live”.

“I don’t see why dating women would be any better than dating men”, Daria said, lying. 

“Are you kidding? Women are way cuter! Not to mention smarter, of course. They’re also statistically less likely to cheat on you with your best friend”. Daria took a large sip of wine. The conversation was stressing her out. 

“Fair. It’s a shame we like men”.

“Yeah…”. Jane looked bemused, and Daria was having a very hard time retaining composure. Jane sighed, began to yawn and raised her arm up, and put it around Daria’s shoulders. Daria started.

Holy shit is she doing the thing? This is the thing that boys do and she’s doing it on me. Is she serious? This has to be a joke. 

Daria was struggling to come up with something witty and or sardonic to say but she was at a loss for words. Jane chimed in.

“You’re very pretty, Daria.” Daria felt like she was going to throw up. 

“Don’t mess with me right now, I think I’m drunk”.

“I’m not messing with you. I was just thinking about how pretty you are”. Daria clenched her fist. 

“I’m serious, Jane”.

“Yeah, and so am I”. Daria shivered. She sat there, waiting for Jane to speak. She couldn’t possibly be expected to respond to that. 

“Are you okay, Daria?”. Daria cursed her lack of confidence. 

“I’m fine”.

“Am I freaking you out?”.

“Not at all. I’m completely comfortable with my sexuality”. 

Jane burst out laughing, and Daria chuckled. There was something just so stupid about the whole situation. Daria’s anxiety had gotten so intense that she forgot she was with her best friend. 

“Glad to hear it, sugartits.” Jane responded, ruffling Daria’s hair. This remark got them both laughing even harder. Jane burped.

“God, I love you, Daria”. Daria went beet red. Jane was hardly ever this affectionate, and Daria was doing everything in her power not to stare at her. Staring would only make it worse. 

“I love you too”. 

Chapter Text

A stage with a single glaring spotlight. Daria stepped forward, her eyes adjusting to the light. She was wearing a black lace dress, one that she couldn’t imagine being able to afford on her current salary. There was nothing but darkness. 

“Hey!”.

Daria turned her head 360 degrees. When she finished her spin, she found Jane Lane in an oversized tuxedo in front of her. Jane toyed with her collar.

“Classy, huh? I was thinking of getting a matching pair of cufflinks. What do you think?”.

Daria knew exactly what she thought, but she damn well wasn’t saying it.

“How bourgeois…”. Jane did a little spin.

“Nothing but the best”.

“What, for you?”.

“For you, obviously”. Daria scratched her head.

“What do you mean, for me?”.

“Who do you think bought you that dress? Who do you think’s taking you out tonight?” Jane asked, incredulously.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Daria”.  

Daria’s heart sunk to the very bottom of her chest. She froze, literally and figuratively, crystallizing into a large block of ice, then slipping on herself and face-planting.

She awoke in the morning hugging her pillow, murmuring to herself about cufflinks. 

…

It isn’t like dreams mean anything, necessarily. They’re born out of the unconscious, but the unconscious does not dictate the thoughts or actions of the conscious, at least not entirely. It’s normal to have thoughts you don’t act on, everybody does. It’s also normal to dream about your best friend. That being said, sometimes Daria felt like her own brain was deliberately sabotaging her, especially in regards to Jane Lane. She was willing to admit, if only to herself, that it was strange how much she thought about her. Most women her age had more than one friend to confide in, but to Daria, Jane was all the emotional support she had in Boston. Lazing around with her was a form of therapy, a way of regaining her sanity. But perhaps she had become too dependent on Jane. It had gotten to the point where every tangible dream she could remember involved Jane in some way. Every night not spent alone in her room reading or doing schoolwork was spent with Jane. The obvious solution would be to put herself out there and find new friends, but Daria just plain didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want therapy, she didn’t want to go to parties, she didn’t want to find happiness and become a functioning human being. She didn’t feel deserving or even qualified for any of that. The only thing she really wanted was Jane. Therein lies the issue. This woman was her primary source of happiness, and anything she said or did could permanently wreck their friendship. There was nothing more terrifying to Daria than the idea of losing Jane, as then she would truly have nothing, and be no one.  

It’s normal for friends to flirt with each other jokingly. Daria never really got into it; the whole situation made her very anxious. Jane seemed to find amusement in tormenting her, however, so every once in a while there would be an incident (Jane would compliment her looks, or hold her hand, or godforbid try to hug her), and Daria would be left with her heart pounding to go home and have more creepy dreams about her best friend. It wasn’t like she didn’t know what all of the signs pointed to. She just hated herself so much that she wasn’t willing to admit it.

When Jane called her pretty she was closer to snapping than she had ever been. She could’ve risked their entire friendship by speaking her mind at that moment, but she was able to stop herself from going there. One must never go there. Sometimes it seemed like Jane was egging her on. Daring her to mention it. Purposefully provoking her- for what? To mock her for how lonely she is, to imply she’s some kind of randy bulldagger, just because she can’t find anybody? It’s not like it’s her fault there aren’t any half-decent men in the entire state of Massachusetts. Besides, romance in college is a waste of time. 

Daria compartmentalized so many thoughts that she was losing touch with herself. She wondered if she had ever known herself- if high school was all just an elaborate persona of disaffection she had put on to cope with self loathing and insecurity. Perhaps the mask had begun to slip, with all of her time in isolation, becoming even more desocialized in college than she was in high school. The only person who seemed to understand her, behind everything she puts on, was Jane. So there was an intense emotional attachment to her, which became stronger as they moved into college life. There was a possessiveness as well, the desire to stay the center of Jane’s attention. Who else was there to talk to, to outwit, to impress, to model for, to eat meals with, to plot and scheme with? No one. At least, no one as interesting as Jane. You only need one really good friend, as the greeting card goes. It’s fine. Perfectly normal.

…

“You okay?”.

“Huh?”. Daria awoke from a daze. Jane Lane was staring at her. She had forgotten that they were sitting together on Jane’s bed, supposedly engaged in a conversation. 

“Are you okay, Daria?”.

“Yeah. Definitely” Daria asserted.

“You’ve seemed super spacey lately. I can read you, you know. I see through your façade, as it were”.

“Jane, I don’t see why I should have to prove to you how normal I am all the time, can’t I just be normal and we can go about our days knowing just how normal I am, how normal we are, taking comfort in our mutual normalcy?”. This came out a lot harsher than Daria had intended. 

“You’re really not helping your case, hon. I would love to discuss but if you’re not up for it tonight, I understand”. 

Daria was extremely frustrated. There was no way for her to say anything that she wanted to say because she just could not allow herself to do it. 

“I’m sorry”.

“Sorry for what? You haven’t done anything wrong, I’m just wondering if you’re alright”.

“I’m sorry”. Daria wanted to disappear. Just not to exist anymore, to unburden herself from the emotional weight of knowing and being known. 

“Is it something I’ve done? Did I make you uncomfortable that other night?” Jane asked, starting to look worried. 

“No”.

“I just want to make you feel better, however I can”. 

“Then drop it”.

They sat in silence for a few beats. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, Daria”. 

Daria started at this line. This whole situation was a nightmare come true. The one good thing she had, ruined her own inaction. Jane looked genuinely hurt. Daria felt her emotions getting the better of her. Tears welled up in her eyes. 

“Daria?”.

“I’m sorry”, it was getting very difficult for Daria to stop herself from crying in front of her best friend, possibly the only person she felt okay with crying around. Seeing how upset Daria was, Jane instinctively hugged her, trying to be as delicate as possible. 

“You haven’t done anything! I just wanna know what’s wrong, how I can help, or if you need to be left alone that’s fine too y'know-".

“No. It’s me. There’s nothing else causing this, it certainly isn’t you. It’s me. I apologize”. Daria felt like the scum of the earth, despising herself for how happy being held by Jane made her. 

“I don’t know what you’re going through, but I promise there’s nothing wrong with you, Daria, trust me. I know you”. Daria was silent.

“I’ll love you no matter what, ok?”, Jane said, stroking Daria’s hair. 

Daria sighed. She really couldn’t think of any response to give that wouldn’t be super incriminating. She wished she could just enjoy Jane’s embrace without losing her mind with anxiety. 

As Jane held her, Daria did her best to figure out what was happening and how she could get out of it with her heterosexuality intact. There really wasn’t anything that she could say that wouldn’t make the situation she was in even more humiliating, especially not what she really wanted to say. But if she kept silent, what would that lead to? Everything was going to absolute shit, and-

“I can feel your heartbeat, you know. Not to stress you out even more or anything, it’s really uh- going at it huh? Do you want me to get you some water?”, Jane said, pulling out of the hug. 

FUCK. This really couldn’t get any worse. She freaked Jane out to the point that she thought she was having medical issues. Figures. 

“Ok. Water is fine”. Daria just wanted Jane out of the room for a second so she could gather her wits. As Jane left for the kitchen Daria took several deep breaths. All she needs to do is pass it off somehow. Return to normal. Jane ran back into the room with a glass of water, worriedly handing it to Daria. Daria drank it all in one gulp.

“Thank you”.

“No problem, feeling any better?”. Daria still felt like she was going to vomit. 

“Yes”. Jane looked at her doubtfully. She sighed.

“Daria, I’m sorry about flirting with you the other day. It was really shitty of me to-”.

“For fuck’s sake, would you stop with the apologizing?”.

Jane was aghast.

“I’m sorry”, Daria said. “I think there’s something wrong with me”. Jane looked as dejected as Daria was currently feeling, and Daria saw no way that she could somehow turn this whole situation around. She was past the point of no return. She had ruined everything. 

“I feel the same way”, Jane said, rubbing her temples. 

“Why?”.

“Why do you think, Daria?”. 

“I- I don’t know-”.

“Would you judge me if I was in love with you?”.

“...hypothetically?”. Jane chuckled, rolling her eyes.

“Be serious”. 

“Of course I wouldn’t judge you. You know how much you mean to me, I’m not giving you up”.

Jane smiled and put her hand over Daria’s, looking her straight in the eyes.

“That’s good to know”. 

“Y’know, Jane, you- ahem- you’re uh- pretty swell”.

“Can I get that in writing, Morgendorffer?”. 

“Sorry, I didn’t have anything prepared”. 

Jane smirked. 

“We’ll just have to improvise, then”.

Chapter Text

It was a chill, arid Saturday evening, and Daria was camped out in the corner of some dickhead’s apartment watching Jane talk to people. Jane had become concerned for the wellbeing of her friend’s social life, and had invited her to meet some of artsy college friends. So here she found herself, sandwiched between posters for The Barenaked Ladies and The Dropkick Murphys, completely sober, utterly alone. Jane was in her element, probably schooling those dudes about the artistic process, but Daria had no way of knowing this because she hadn’t moved for the last 2 hours. Daria focused as hard as she could on the task of remaining aloof and nonplussed. 

While one of the men was going on about which bar in Boston had been the site of the most hate crimes, Jane glanced over at Daria. She really hated seeing her so out of her element, but she wanted to go out and she didn’t want Daria to feel excluded. Maybe she should’ve let the poor woman stay home, Jane thought to herself. She wanted a better social life for her friend, but there really was no forcing somebody out of their shell. They come out when they want to come out. She just couldn’t help but worry about Daria, and what she did when she wasn’t around. There isn’t anything wrong with keeping to oneself, but she knew college was really tough on Daria, and the couldn’t help but notice her friend getting paler, gloomier, even a bit skittish when she was out in public. Unable to concentrate as anxiety for her girl rushed to the forefront of her mind, Jane subtly excused herself from the conversation she was in (none of the men noticed she had left), and walked over to her friend. Jane met Daria’s eyes.

“We can leave whenever you’d like, you know”.

“I don’t know, I think I was learning a lot about Irish-American culture” Daria mused. Jane chuckled. 

“C’mon”, Jane said, grabbing Daria by the arm and leading her out the door.  

“Why do you go to parties like that?” Daria wondered as they cautiously walked to the train station through the bitter New England wind. 

“Networking, babe! Young entrepreneurs like myself need to take all the opportunities available to us to peddle our wares”, Jane said, grinning.

“You think one of those guys would buy a painting?”.

“If enough Guinness is involved, it’s anyone’s guess” Jane said, boxing the air in front of her. Daria smiled. 

“Thank you for bringing me along. Sorry I wasn’t much of a party animal”. Daria clenched her fingers in her gloves in an effort to keep herself warm. 

“I liked having you there. You remind me I’m sane”.

“All I did was stand there”.

“And by standing there you were contributing more to the world than everyone in that party combined”. Daria stopped in place. 

“Were you always this nice?” Daria asked, one of her arms firmly in the grip of the other. Jane took a moment to think about it. 

“I don’t know, I think it’s harder to be a genuine human being when you’re in high school. Everything seems like it matters so much, and I don’t really know if I feel that way anymore. Like it’s so important for me to be semi-presentable, unobtrusive, to make good impressions. I want to, sure, and you can see I’m still trying, but- being comfortably detached really isn’t worth hiding the way I feel from the people I love. Caring is a lot scarier than pretending you don’t care, you know? There’s a psychological commitment to it. But I feel like I'm ready for that. I don’t know if I’m making any sense to you”. They arrived at the stop, and boarded the train, finding an empty cab near the back. Yellow orbs painted streaks through the ink black canvass of night as the train took them back towards Jane’s apartment.

“It makes sense, I’m just not used to it, I guess”, Daria said, trying not to think too much about how her and Jane’s arms were touching. Jane reached to hold Daria’s hand. Daria started. 

“You ok?” Jane said, half-smiling.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”.

“Should I have asked first?”. Daria couldn’t stop herself from getting overwhelmed. It was all so fucking middle school of her. A grown woman too nervous to hold hands.

“It’s fine, Jane. I’ll survive” Daria mumbled.

“Glad to hear it” Jane said, taking Daria’s hand again. 

***

Cardboard boxes, wine bottles and worn out clothes were strewn all about the floor of Jane’s apartment, but Daria couldn’t care less. It was pretty much a second home to her at this point, with her and Jane as an essential part of its DNA. As Daria began to take off her jacket, Jane reached over to stop her. 

“Can I sketch you, just as you are?” Jane said, fishing out a drawing pad from under her bed. Daria was used to these sorts of requests. 

“Any particular position you had in mind?”.

“Just stand still for a sec” Jane smirked, twirling a pencil in her hand. Daria tried to move as little as possible as Jane’s pencil skated across the page, basic shapes turning to an outline, turning to her. Jane glanced up at Daria while working, but not in her usual mischievous manner. She chewed on her cheek, checking to make sure she got every detail correct. She set down her pencil. 

“There we go”, she said, showing Daria the finished sketch. Daria smiled. Jane’s portraits never failed to impress, and Daria never felt fully deserving of them, as if they captured a beauty that wasn’t truly present in her. Compositionally it was professional, but due to Jane’s familiarity with Daria’s character and her body language, her drawings had a sort of soul to them, and it was an interesting experience for Daria to see herself through the eyes of her friend. 

“Good work” Daria said, as she took off and hung up her jacket.

“You’re an excellent subject” Jane said, walking over to her. 

“Uh”, Daria stalled, already starting to get nervous. Jane stopped right in front of her. 

“I think I should ask this, before I continue pestering you”. Jane exhaled. “Are you interested in me, as a partner?”. Daria felt close to panicking. She really couldn’t believe that Jane was putting it all so blatantly, that something she’d agonized over and dreamed about for such a long time might actually be coming true. Daria wanted to retreat into her corner, into her box, but she couldn’t. There wasn’t anywhere to go, and Jane was staring right at her. 

“It isn’t that I’m not in love with you”, Daria’s throat was dry, and she felt close to choking. “I am. Very deeply in love with you, but I’m scared that if something happens and we break up that I won’t get to see you anymore, and I really don’t think I can handle that. I don’t know how I would function. You are a person that I’ve taken for granted many times, and I never intend on making that mistake again. I’m afraid, and I want to be with you as your- um- your girlfriend- if that’s what you want, of course, I just need you to promise that if this whole thing doesn’t work out that we’ll still be friends. Even if I fuck up or you fuck up I just really don’t want to lose you, ok?”. 

Jane smiled.

“Is that all?”.

“Yes”, Daria said, feeling the knot in her stomach come undone.

“Daria, I am never leaving you, no matter what, alright?”. 

“Understood”. Daria stood in place, fidgeting with her hands and contemplating her next move. She gathered whatever modicum of courage she had left and gave Jane a kiss on the cheek. Jane grinned from ear to ear, pulling Daria into a hug. 

“Never thought I’d see the day”.