BtVS Fic: Nothing's Making Sense
Title: Nothing's Making Sense
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Joyce, Buffy, Spike.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1062
Spoilers: Becoming Part 2.
Summary: Joyce loves her daughter, but she doesn’t understand what’s going on with her, and Buffy’s attempt at explaining isn’t helping.
Written For: Prompt 048 - Too Much Information at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS, or the characters.
“Mom… I’m a Vampire Slayer.”
Joyce can’t seem to take in what her daughter’s saying. Buffy’s looking at her, eyes beseeching, please listen, please understand, but Joyce can’t respond, disbelief stealing her voice. What is Buffy talking about? Vampire Slayer? There’s no such thing as vampires; they’re legendary monsters, horror movie myths, not real creatures! Buffy can’t possibly be serious, and yet…
That man just now, there was something strange about his face. She’d only caught a brief glimpse as he’d leapt towards her, but what might he have done if that other man hadn’t hit him? If Buffy hadn’t… What exactly had her daughter done just now? Joyce remembered seeing a sharp wooden stick in Buffy’s hand, her daughter had poked the man with it, and he’d just… exploded into dust.
No, this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream, a nightmare, a hallucination of some kind. All Joyce can do is shake her head, trying to deny everything that’s happened in the last few hours. The police had shown up looking for Buffy, claiming she was suspected of attacking her friends at the school and killing a girl. For hours she’d driven around Sunnydale searching for her daughter, wondering what trouble Buffy had gotten herself into this time, what she’d done wrong as a mother that had caused her sweet little girl to become some kind of dangerous delinquent. And now this Vampire Slayer business.
“We should get inside; I have to make a phone call.”
Feeling numb, her wildly spinning thoughts making her feel dizzy and a bit faint, Joyce doesn’t resist as Buffy steers her inside, sits her down on the couch, and pours her a stiff drink. She takes the glass automatically and sits there holding it without drinking, staring into space, trying to make sense of something so nonsensical there’s nothing she can grasp onto.
It’s too much to take in. What does Buffy mean when she says she’s a Vampire Slayer? That this isn’t the first time she’s poked a stick into a strange man and seen him crumble to dust? Joyce isn’t sure she wants to know, and a little part of her mind wonders if she wouldn’t be better off not knowing, and yet… whatever else she claims to be, Buffy is still her daughter, her only child, so like it or not Joyce needs to know, even if the knowing is beyond belief.
She loves Buffy; that goes without saying. She’s given her little girl all the love, support, and understanding she can, but she can’t help wondering if maybe this is somehow her fault, or Hank’s. She’s read all the books, knows when couples split up their children can be… affected, emotionally, even mentally. Is that what this is? Has her parents’ divorce somehow sent Buffy off the deep end? But that doesn’t explain the exploding man, or the vaguely familiar stranger sitting across from her, managing to look both bored and uncomfortable.
Joyce lets herself be distracted from her whirling thoughts for a moment, taking a time-out for the sake of her own sanity.
“Have we met?” It’s the hair; that platinum blond shade is very distinctive, making something nag at the edge of Joyce’s memory. If anything, her uninvited guest looks even more uncomfortable.
When he replies, he sounds oddly British, a bit like the school librarian, Mr Giles. Perhaps they’re related.
“Um… you hit me with an axe one time. Remember?” He raises both arms as if wielding an axe. “Uh, 'get the hell away from my daughter’.” He lets his arms drop.
“Oh.” Yes, now Joyce remembers; parent-teacher night at Sunnydale High, he’d been one of the gang, high on drugs or something, who’d burst into the school, causing chaos and destruction. Buffy had taken charge to save people from them. Why would she bring this one home with her now?
If Joyce was confused and reeling before, it gets worse when Buffy returns from calling the hospital and starts talking about killing Angel. Wasn’t that her boyfriend? Or ex-boyfriend, presumably. At least Buffy confirms that she didn’t kill the girl at school, and Joyce feels a little guilty for even letting it cross her mind that her daughter might be guilty of murder, although now she apparently plans to kill Angel.
Everything is moving too fast for Joyce, and she just wants it to stop, give her a chance to catch up, try to get things straight in her head.
“Honey, are you sure you're a Vampire Slayer?”
Buffy ignores her, so Joyce tries again, desperate to get through to her daughter.
“I mean, have you tried NOT being a Slayer?”
That at least gets Buffy’s attention. “Mom!”
Joyce thinks this must all be because of the lack of a strong father figure in her daughter’s life. Buffy insists it’s just fate, and Joyce puts her foot in it, suggesting they call the police now she knows Buffy’s innocent of murder. At the look of injured betrayal on Buffy’s face Joyce wishes could take back that last part. Trying to back-pedal just makes things worse, and she doesn’t mean to raise her voice, but she’s scared for Buffy, doesn’t understand what’s going on, just wants everything to return to normal, or as normal as things ever get with Buffy.
Demanding an explanation just piles one miss-step on top of another, and forcibly attempting to keep Buffy from leaving is the final, most costly error of judgement. Buffy is far stronger than Joyce ever realised. Maybe she’s on drugs; maybe that’s what all this is about.
Something inside Joyce snaps.
“You walk out of this house, don't even THINK about coming back!”
Days later, with Buffy missing, having taken those final, fateful words to heart, Joyce can only regret uttering them and pray that wherever her little girl is, she’s okay.
‘Why didn’t she talk to me sooner, explain what’s going on in her life?’
In her mind, her daughter’s voice condemns her. “Maybe because you never asked.”
“Come home, Buffy,” Joyce whispers into the silence of the too-empty house. “I don’t care what you are, or what I said. I only wanted to protect you; I never meant to be such a terrible mother. Please just come home, give me another chance; I swear this time I’ll listen and try my best to understand.”
The End
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Joyce, Buffy, Spike.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1062
Spoilers: Becoming Part 2.
Summary: Joyce loves her daughter, but she doesn’t understand what’s going on with her, and Buffy’s attempt at explaining isn’t helping.
Written For: Prompt 048 - Too Much Information at fandomweekly.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS, or the characters.
“Mom… I’m a Vampire Slayer.”
Joyce can’t seem to take in what her daughter’s saying. Buffy’s looking at her, eyes beseeching, please listen, please understand, but Joyce can’t respond, disbelief stealing her voice. What is Buffy talking about? Vampire Slayer? There’s no such thing as vampires; they’re legendary monsters, horror movie myths, not real creatures! Buffy can’t possibly be serious, and yet…
That man just now, there was something strange about his face. She’d only caught a brief glimpse as he’d leapt towards her, but what might he have done if that other man hadn’t hit him? If Buffy hadn’t… What exactly had her daughter done just now? Joyce remembered seeing a sharp wooden stick in Buffy’s hand, her daughter had poked the man with it, and he’d just… exploded into dust.
No, this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream, a nightmare, a hallucination of some kind. All Joyce can do is shake her head, trying to deny everything that’s happened in the last few hours. The police had shown up looking for Buffy, claiming she was suspected of attacking her friends at the school and killing a girl. For hours she’d driven around Sunnydale searching for her daughter, wondering what trouble Buffy had gotten herself into this time, what she’d done wrong as a mother that had caused her sweet little girl to become some kind of dangerous delinquent. And now this Vampire Slayer business.
“We should get inside; I have to make a phone call.”
Feeling numb, her wildly spinning thoughts making her feel dizzy and a bit faint, Joyce doesn’t resist as Buffy steers her inside, sits her down on the couch, and pours her a stiff drink. She takes the glass automatically and sits there holding it without drinking, staring into space, trying to make sense of something so nonsensical there’s nothing she can grasp onto.
It’s too much to take in. What does Buffy mean when she says she’s a Vampire Slayer? That this isn’t the first time she’s poked a stick into a strange man and seen him crumble to dust? Joyce isn’t sure she wants to know, and a little part of her mind wonders if she wouldn’t be better off not knowing, and yet… whatever else she claims to be, Buffy is still her daughter, her only child, so like it or not Joyce needs to know, even if the knowing is beyond belief.
She loves Buffy; that goes without saying. She’s given her little girl all the love, support, and understanding she can, but she can’t help wondering if maybe this is somehow her fault, or Hank’s. She’s read all the books, knows when couples split up their children can be… affected, emotionally, even mentally. Is that what this is? Has her parents’ divorce somehow sent Buffy off the deep end? But that doesn’t explain the exploding man, or the vaguely familiar stranger sitting across from her, managing to look both bored and uncomfortable.
Joyce lets herself be distracted from her whirling thoughts for a moment, taking a time-out for the sake of her own sanity.
“Have we met?” It’s the hair; that platinum blond shade is very distinctive, making something nag at the edge of Joyce’s memory. If anything, her uninvited guest looks even more uncomfortable.
When he replies, he sounds oddly British, a bit like the school librarian, Mr Giles. Perhaps they’re related.
“Um… you hit me with an axe one time. Remember?” He raises both arms as if wielding an axe. “Uh, 'get the hell away from my daughter’.” He lets his arms drop.
“Oh.” Yes, now Joyce remembers; parent-teacher night at Sunnydale High, he’d been one of the gang, high on drugs or something, who’d burst into the school, causing chaos and destruction. Buffy had taken charge to save people from them. Why would she bring this one home with her now?
If Joyce was confused and reeling before, it gets worse when Buffy returns from calling the hospital and starts talking about killing Angel. Wasn’t that her boyfriend? Or ex-boyfriend, presumably. At least Buffy confirms that she didn’t kill the girl at school, and Joyce feels a little guilty for even letting it cross her mind that her daughter might be guilty of murder, although now she apparently plans to kill Angel.
Everything is moving too fast for Joyce, and she just wants it to stop, give her a chance to catch up, try to get things straight in her head.
“Honey, are you sure you're a Vampire Slayer?”
Buffy ignores her, so Joyce tries again, desperate to get through to her daughter.
“I mean, have you tried NOT being a Slayer?”
That at least gets Buffy’s attention. “Mom!”
Joyce thinks this must all be because of the lack of a strong father figure in her daughter’s life. Buffy insists it’s just fate, and Joyce puts her foot in it, suggesting they call the police now she knows Buffy’s innocent of murder. At the look of injured betrayal on Buffy’s face Joyce wishes could take back that last part. Trying to back-pedal just makes things worse, and she doesn’t mean to raise her voice, but she’s scared for Buffy, doesn’t understand what’s going on, just wants everything to return to normal, or as normal as things ever get with Buffy.
Demanding an explanation just piles one miss-step on top of another, and forcibly attempting to keep Buffy from leaving is the final, most costly error of judgement. Buffy is far stronger than Joyce ever realised. Maybe she’s on drugs; maybe that’s what all this is about.
Something inside Joyce snaps.
“You walk out of this house, don't even THINK about coming back!”
Days later, with Buffy missing, having taken those final, fateful words to heart, Joyce can only regret uttering them and pray that wherever her little girl is, she’s okay.
‘Why didn’t she talk to me sooner, explain what’s going on in her life?’
In her mind, her daughter’s voice condemns her. “Maybe because you never asked.”
“Come home, Buffy,” Joyce whispers into the silence of the too-empty house. “I don’t care what you are, or what I said. I only wanted to protect you; I never meant to be such a terrible mother. Please just come home, give me another chance; I swear this time I’ll listen and try my best to understand.”
The End