When I woke up my head felt heavy and my throat felt raw. Hurt to even swallow and that was when I felt the cool cloth brush against my forehead. Another trick? Another game to play? I don't fucking think so. Before I even opened my eyes my hand snapped up quickly and tried to grab the wrist in front of me hard. I was ready to just snap it in half and run like hell but after a minute I started to remember everything. Started to remember why my fingers wouldn't even close around the flesh in front of me. Opening my eyes I saw Wes starin' down at me with concern my fingers still desperately trying to latch onto anything. Two broken hands, that would be my luck.
Quickly I let it go and let my arm drop back to the couch. A couch. I wasn't back in Kakistos' little house of pain. I was home. Or well...Tara and Spike's pad anyway. Might as well be home since I didn't really have any other home to go back to. Not unless you counted limbo and I'd already almost been sent back there today. I wasn't really wantin' to go back. Especially not without Wes. Kinda boring with no company ya know?
Wes started runnin' the cool cloth along my forehead again and it was sort of annoying me a little bit. I wasn't sure why I was annoyed exactly. Was it cause I just got my ass kicked by Kakistos again? At least he was okay. Wes that is. My worst nightmares of Kakistos always featured him tearin' my old watcher apart limb from limb. I knew he'd do it again too, just to get under my skin. He'd do it over and over again.
Picking up one of my hands I rubbed it across my throat as I tried to sit up a little bit and look around. I wasn't dead. I hadn't died. I thought for sure when he had that whip around my neck that I was a goner but he'd just knocked me out so he could play with me again. That wasn't an attack.
It was a warning.
"Wes...." I let my voice trail off as I glanced up into those familiar pale eyes. By now they were more familiar than my own features. "You have to go. Leave. You have to." I know I wasn't makin' any sense but Kakistos was gonna come after him next. I just knew he was.
Rusty. That’s probably it. I can’t think of any other reason, won’t think of any other reason as to why I wasn’t more careful when she woke up. But she seems rather rusty as well, or perhaps still to dazed. When she started come around, I didn’t as I would’ve done had I still be used to being around a Slayer alive, pull my hand away. No, I kept brushing that cloth over forehead and even leaned forward. It wasn’t until I saw her make a futile grasp for my hand, arm, wrist, that I thought about how dangerous Slayers can be when taken of guard. Either I feel rather secure around Faith, or I’ve really gone rusty after ten years of Limbo.
I glanced at her hands worried, my brain apparently not so rusty that it had no trouble cataloging her injuries. Broken. My blood was boiling with rage, but I forced myself to calm down. Rage would not get me anywhere. Would not get *us* anywhere. And it would of course turn me into a hypocrite toward Connor if I’d run out now to beat the living daylights out of that creature. My time would come. I’d spend ten years in Limbo, I knew patience like the back of my hand by now. Before that I had some, but now I could wait even better. My time would come.
Taking the cloth, I brushed it over her forehead again, ignoring the flash of annoyment that crossed her face. I chose to not take it personally, certain that she was annoyed at herself. For falling for some trap, for letting herself get abducted. Right from the backyard, if I’m not mistaken. Then she struggled to sit up, rubbing her throat and looking at me with a look I couldn’t quite place. As I reached out to help her sit up, she finally found her voice. And her first words were most certainly not what I had expected them to be.
“I beg your pardon? What?” Leave? I had to leave? Why on earth would I want to leave? Leave her? Leave Angel whom I’ve just found. Yes, our friendship, or what’s left of it, might be awkward, but I wasn’t about to leave them alone. I wasn’t *about* to leave Faith on her own. “I’m not leaving,” I told her resolutely, pretending to have misunderstood her. “I’m right here Faith. Do you think you’ve a concussion?” as well.
I should have known that he'd react that way. If the roles were reversed would I leave? Hell no I wouldn't and I recognized that stubbornness in him well. Problem was? I could be just as stubborn if not more stubborn. He didn't understand what Kakistos had done to my last watcher. He didn't get it that Kakistos wasn't lookin' to kill me, he was lookin' to play just like he always was. He was lookin' to turn me inside out and all around. And I knew exactly where he'd start from. Wesley, the closest thing I had to a watcher now. He'd start there and Wes wouldn't have a chance in hell.
"No. I don't have a concussion." I thought about pushin' his hand away from my forehead but it seemed kind've stupid and useless with two broken hands. I needed to set those bones but because he'd broken both of them I couldn't do it on my own. I needed someone else to do it. Wes? I wasn't sure that he was strong enough or that he knew how to set bones. Angel could probably do it though. Somebody had to because if I didn't have hands? I was pretty much useless. The way I'd felt for a long time now. Useless. And who the hell knew if I had a concussion, who cared? We had bigger problems to worry about.
"You don't get it." Biting on my lower lip I let my back sink into the couch before finally meet his eyes again. "Kakistos is gonna come for you and he won't stop until you're dead. That's what he does! He'll come for you next and I don't know if I can keep you safe. Please. You have to go."
The other problem? I didn't want him to go. I wasn't sure what was goin' on between me and Wes and I wasn't about to start disecting my feelings for him or anything but I knew one thing for sure. I didn't want him to go. I felt weird when he wasn't around and I didn't like it.
Maybe him leaving wasn't the best idea ever. If he was away from me he'd be vulnerable to Kakistos and then me pushin' him away would get him killed. God, I forgot how much it sucked to be alive and tryin' to make decisions like this all the time. I always sucked at making these kind of decisions. This was B's territory and suddenly I was missin' her so bad my chest tightened up. Last time I'd had to fight Kakistos she'd been right there with me. Every step of the way.
And there was that look in her eyes again. The same one she had in Pylea after we warmed each other. In a very original way to say the least. The one where she would rather push me away, and very fast at that. It hurt, I ignored it, but it hurt. After everything we’ve been through, well mostly being dead but still, she’d still not trusted me. Or even wanted me close by. Perhaps it was best if I just kept my distance, even though it would tear me up inside.
Always so sensitive boy. We’ll get that out of you yet. A watcher cannot be ruled by his emotions, or care to deeply for his Slayer. He was right and wrong. The fact that he had cared to deeply, is what made the bond between Giles and Buffy so strong. The fact that I tried not to care, only made the gap bigger with each passing second. But I had learned from my mistakes. The only problem was, she wouldn’t let me. And I didn’t really know how.
“There’s no need to raise your voice, Faith,” I said calmly, taking a look at her hands. Some of her fingers looked crooked and needed to be set. Not all of them though, some were broken and snapped back cleanly. She should be at the hospital, but she probably liked that place as much as I did. Which was not at all. Perhaps Spike or Angel could help out.
Her words made me think though. If he was going to come after me, we had the leverage we needed. We could be prepared and catch him, using his weakness. “Good,” I nodded, giving her wry smile. “Let him come, we’ll be ready for him this time. Because I really have no intention of going anywhere.”
Gently putting her hand down, I wrinkled my nose and tried to figure out what other wounds of hers needed tending. Tilting my head, I leaned back on my heels and glanced at the bruises that were visible with a wince. “I suppose if I asked you to undress, you’d hit me. Though, considering the state of your hands, I really must insist.”
"You don't understand!" I was so annoyed that he told me he wouldn't leave, that I shouldn't raise my fucking voice! Who the hell was he kidding? He didn't get it! He didn't understand. When Kakistos killed Kate, my first watcher he did more than just kill her. He pretty much killed any chance I had of being a fully functional slayer. Some little part of me just died that day and I never really got it back. B liked to think that my psychosis started when I killed the Mayor's lackey. Really it started when Kate died. Kakistos was my absolute worst nightmare.
I wanted to yell and scream and hit him cause he didn't get it and he was bein' stupid cause he was gonna get himself killed but I couldn't even make a fist right now so I just turned my face away in frustration feelin' about on the brink of tears and as much as Wes had seen alot of facets of my personality the one that cried wasn't featured all that often.
"He's gonna kill you and then it won't even matter." I said in a defeated voice as Wes continued to look over my various bumps and bruises. I wished he'd stop doin' that. I wish he'd just fucking take me seriously and hop on the next flight to Timbuktu. Had no clue where Timbuktu was but it sounded wicked far away and remote and that was perfect because then Kakistos couldn't get him.
"Fine. If you won't leave...we'll go together." I said suddenly, turnin' around to look at him and as soon as I saw that vaguelly disappointed look in his eyes I felt like total shit again. Because I couldn't run away from this. If I did Kakistos would just keep killin' slayer after slayer after slayer and it would be all my fault.
Takin' a deep breath I let my tongue scrape my top teeth as my eyes met the floor. He wasn't gonna go, I already knew that he wouldn't. Well then...I'd just have to not let him out of my sight. Ever again.
Like that wasn't gonna be all kinds of problematic.
Of course not. She’s so agitated again she’s not hearing a word I say. Rolling my eyes, I start to tug on her clothes myself. There’s nothing I’ve not seen before. Hell, there’s nothing I’ve not felt before. And lets face it, when it comes to those kinds of things, Faith’s not a shy person. Which is the only reason I feel no guilt while doing this. It seems to be the only way for me to find out how badly that bastard had gotten to her. Physically, I’m not talking about her mental state of mind. It seems he’s hit the bull’s-eye quiet well there.
“Don’t yell at me, Faith,” I murmur, wincing at the bruises I find on her body. She’s a Slayer though, they’ll be healed in no time at all. It’s her hands I’m far more worried about. “He’s not going to kill me,” I say, looking at her seriously. “I wont let him kill me. I’ve just gotten a second chance at living, I’ve no intention of messing it up.” At least, not this early. I’m certain I’ll mess it up along the road one way or another.
Tugging her clothes back, I raise my eyebrow as she seems to slump down a bit in defeat. Her words disappoint me though. I know she’s capable of running away from her problems. But she’s not a coward. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. We just need to come up with a good plan. And since, apparently, we’ve a very good bait, that should be easy.” Just lure him in, snap the trap and kill that bastard. I’m sure I can look the other way, figural speaking, if Angel would like to practice his old torture techniques.
“We need to take care of your hands, Faith. Some of the fingers look already set right, but some need to be set and bandaged. I suppose we can ask either one of the others. Oh wait, not Spike anymore I suppose.” Damn, I’m still getting used to the fact that Spike’s a human now. Well, that makes me feel less of a useless git when it comes to strength.
Why was he always doing that? Lapsing back into scolding me like a small child. No matter how many times he insisted that I was acting like one, I wasn't. He just didn't get it and I wasn't about to explain it to him. Still there was something really irritating about having someone, the only someone really, always make you feel about three inches tall. Couldn't he just cut me some slack on this one? Not that I really blamed him about the running away thing. If I were him I wouldn't run either, no matter how much someone insisted that I should. It didn't make it any less irritating.
He wouldn't let Kakistos kill him. That was really rich comin' from the guy who just got ressurected from the dead. Not like I just let Kakistos' best friends come and drag me off and throw me in a cage. Not like I let him nearly kill me alot. Fuck. I was so out of practice and suddenly my veins were burnin'. I just wanted to jump up and beat the fuck out of something. Kinda like I did with Wesley's shower that one time. Tara probably wouldn't appreciate me beating the shit out of her shower stall and besides, broken fingers.
I glanced from his face down to my fingers as he tugged my clothes back onto me. A couple of 'em were bent at really awkward angles and it was painful just to look at 'em. God damn. It'd been a wicked long time since I felt so much....much. Anything. It was almost a blessing in disguise or whatever the hell you call those things. I could feel sharp throbbing pain radiating from my hands up my wrists and it felt good. Because it was real. Because I was alive.
"My fingers need to be set but I can't set them myself. You have to get Angel to do it." I said firmly enough to leave absolutely no doubt about it. I was not gonna be goin' to a hospital anytime ever. Me and hospital? Unmixy things. They had the tendency to make me wanna tear off my own skin. I'd bleed to death on a sidewalk before goin' into one of those places willingly.
Letting out a burst of air from my lips I pouted a little bit and leaned back against the couch. I wish he'd stop hovering over me, it was kinda makin' me nervous.
Finally I just looked up and met his eyes, the palm of my hand resting against his wrist. How lame was that?
Ah. Of course. Angel. I knew it had to be him. Not Connor, not Illyria, not even Tara with her witch powers. Angel. It always comes back to Angel. Letting out a resigned sigh, I nod as I look at one of the more bigger bruises. Can I at least take care of those? Can I at least tell her never to worry me like this again? Can I at least tell her how she scared me to a second death? Can I at least tell her that being back alive would be meaningless without her?
But then her hand was on my wrist and I knew that, no, I wasn’t allowed.
“Fine,” I said briskly, hiding the hurt I felt at her words behind my usual mask of indifference. Getting up, I started to gather the things I had hardly been able to use back into the first aid kit. Then I quickly stepped away from her, since she made it so abundantly clear she didn’t want me around. Of course not, she had Angel now. Who had done bugger all in the years we had been stuck in Limbo. The great hero.
Alright, not entirely fair, but still.
“I’ll go get Angel,” I told her, keeping any emotion out of my voice while putting the fist aid kit back where I found it. “And then everything will be jolly good.” Closing the doors, perhaps a little bit to loud, I turned around on the balls of my feet and strode over to the door. “Provided I can find him and he’s not ducked away in the nearest dark hole. Otherwise you‘ll have to make due with Connor or Illyria.”
Why did I have the impression that I'd done something to really piss Wesley off? He was doin' that thing he did where he wouldn't tell me and he'd pretend to be just fucking fine and then bam something wicked passive aggressive would creep into his voice. Just for once I'd like to see him get pissed off enough off to yell back at me. It was so weird to see so much nothing with so much something going on just below the surface. I didn't even know what I'd done except ask him to leave. Didn't he get that I just didn't want anything to happen to him again?
Jolly good? Yeah, fucking right. Who was he trying to kid? Obviously not me. I frowned when he mentioned Connor or Illyria to set my fingers. Was that was this was about? Angel? What did Angel have to do with any of this? Maybe because I hadn't even thought about Illyria or Connor. They hadn't even crossed my mind at all. It was always about Angel. Not this time. Not after ten years of nothing. How could I believe in nothing?
Then it occured to me that I'd had nothing for almost a decade. Trapped in Limbo with Wes. I guess with so much nothing you have nothing else to believe in. Okay, that thought was starting to confuse me.
"Okay." Was all I said when I really wanted to ask him what the hell that had meant. I wanted to know why he'd suddenly decided he was pissed off at me again. Like I couldn't tell or something. But instead I just turned my face away from him and looked at the wall like it was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen. All I heard was the sound of the door clicking closed before I turned my eyes back to the door.
Quickly I let it go and let my arm drop back to the couch. A couch. I wasn't back in Kakistos' little house of pain. I was home. Or well...Tara and Spike's pad anyway. Might as well be home since I didn't really have any other home to go back to. Not unless you counted limbo and I'd already almost been sent back there today. I wasn't really wantin' to go back. Especially not without Wes. Kinda boring with no company ya know?
Wes started runnin' the cool cloth along my forehead again and it was sort of annoying me a little bit. I wasn't sure why I was annoyed exactly. Was it cause I just got my ass kicked by Kakistos again? At least he was okay. Wes that is. My worst nightmares of Kakistos always featured him tearin' my old watcher apart limb from limb. I knew he'd do it again too, just to get under my skin. He'd do it over and over again.
Picking up one of my hands I rubbed it across my throat as I tried to sit up a little bit and look around. I wasn't dead. I hadn't died. I thought for sure when he had that whip around my neck that I was a goner but he'd just knocked me out so he could play with me again. That wasn't an attack.
It was a warning.
"Wes...." I let my voice trail off as I glanced up into those familiar pale eyes. By now they were more familiar than my own features. "You have to go. Leave. You have to." I know I wasn't makin' any sense but Kakistos was gonna come after him next. I just knew he was.
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I glanced at her hands worried, my brain apparently not so rusty that it had no trouble cataloging her injuries. Broken. My blood was boiling with rage, but I forced myself to calm down. Rage would not get me anywhere. Would not get *us* anywhere. And it would of course turn me into a hypocrite toward Connor if I’d run out now to beat the living daylights out of that creature. My time would come. I’d spend ten years in Limbo, I knew patience like the back of my hand by now. Before that I had some, but now I could wait even better. My time would come.
Taking the cloth, I brushed it over her forehead again, ignoring the flash of annoyment that crossed her face. I chose to not take it personally, certain that she was annoyed at herself. For falling for some trap, for letting herself get abducted. Right from the backyard, if I’m not mistaken. Then she struggled to sit up, rubbing her throat and looking at me with a look I couldn’t quite place. As I reached out to help her sit up, she finally found her voice. And her first words were most certainly not what I had expected them to be.
“I beg your pardon? What?” Leave? I had to leave? Why on earth would I want to leave? Leave her? Leave Angel whom I’ve just found. Yes, our friendship, or what’s left of it, might be awkward, but I wasn’t about to leave them alone. I wasn’t *about* to leave Faith on her own. “I’m not leaving,” I told her resolutely, pretending to have misunderstood her. “I’m right here Faith. Do you think you’ve a concussion?” as well.
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"No. I don't have a concussion." I thought about pushin' his hand away from my forehead but it seemed kind've stupid and useless with two broken hands. I needed to set those bones but because he'd broken both of them I couldn't do it on my own. I needed someone else to do it. Wes? I wasn't sure that he was strong enough or that he knew how to set bones. Angel could probably do it though. Somebody had to because if I didn't have hands? I was pretty much useless. The way I'd felt for a long time now. Useless. And who the hell knew if I had a concussion, who cared? We had bigger problems to worry about.
"You don't get it." Biting on my lower lip I let my back sink into the couch before finally meet his eyes again. "Kakistos is gonna come for you and he won't stop until you're dead. That's what he does! He'll come for you next and I don't know if I can keep you safe. Please. You have to go."
The other problem? I didn't want him to go. I wasn't sure what was goin' on between me and Wes and I wasn't about to start disecting my feelings for him or anything but I knew one thing for sure. I didn't want him to go. I felt weird when he wasn't around and I didn't like it.
Maybe him leaving wasn't the best idea ever. If he was away from me he'd be vulnerable to Kakistos and then me pushin' him away would get him killed. God, I forgot how much it sucked to be alive and tryin' to make decisions like this all the time. I always sucked at making these kind of decisions. This was B's territory and suddenly I was missin' her so bad my chest tightened up. Last time I'd had to fight Kakistos she'd been right there with me. Every step of the way.
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Always so sensitive boy. We’ll get that out of you yet. A watcher cannot be ruled by his emotions, or care to deeply for his Slayer. He was right and wrong. The fact that he had cared to deeply, is what made the bond between Giles and Buffy so strong. The fact that I tried not to care, only made the gap bigger with each passing second. But I had learned from my mistakes. The only problem was, she wouldn’t let me. And I didn’t really know how.
“There’s no need to raise your voice, Faith,” I said calmly, taking a look at her hands. Some of her fingers looked crooked and needed to be set. Not all of them though, some were broken and snapped back cleanly. She should be at the hospital, but she probably liked that place as much as I did. Which was not at all. Perhaps Spike or Angel could help out.
Her words made me think though. If he was going to come after me, we had the leverage we needed. We could be prepared and catch him, using his weakness. “Good,” I nodded, giving her wry smile. “Let him come, we’ll be ready for him this time. Because I really have no intention of going anywhere.”
Gently putting her hand down, I wrinkled my nose and tried to figure out what other wounds of hers needed tending. Tilting my head, I leaned back on my heels and glanced at the bruises that were visible with a wince. “I suppose if I asked you to undress, you’d hit me. Though, considering the state of your hands, I really must insist.”
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I wanted to yell and scream and hit him cause he didn't get it and he was bein' stupid cause he was gonna get himself killed but I couldn't even make a fist right now so I just turned my face away in frustration feelin' about on the brink of tears and as much as Wes had seen alot of facets of my personality the one that cried wasn't featured all that often.
"He's gonna kill you and then it won't even matter." I said in a defeated voice as Wes continued to look over my various bumps and bruises. I wished he'd stop doin' that. I wish he'd just fucking take me seriously and hop on the next flight to Timbuktu. Had no clue where Timbuktu was but it sounded wicked far away and remote and that was perfect because then Kakistos couldn't get him.
"Fine. If you won't leave...we'll go together." I said suddenly, turnin' around to look at him and as soon as I saw that vaguelly disappointed look in his eyes I felt like total shit again. Because I couldn't run away from this. If I did Kakistos would just keep killin' slayer after slayer after slayer and it would be all my fault.
Takin' a deep breath I let my tongue scrape my top teeth as my eyes met the floor. He wasn't gonna go, I already knew that he wouldn't. Well then...I'd just have to not let him out of my sight. Ever again.
Like that wasn't gonna be all kinds of problematic.
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“Don’t yell at me, Faith,” I murmur, wincing at the bruises I find on her body. She’s a Slayer though, they’ll be healed in no time at all. It’s her hands I’m far more worried about. “He’s not going to kill me,” I say, looking at her seriously. “I wont let him kill me. I’ve just gotten a second chance at living, I’ve no intention of messing it up.” At least, not this early. I’m certain I’ll mess it up along the road one way or another.
Tugging her clothes back, I raise my eyebrow as she seems to slump down a bit in defeat. Her words disappoint me though. I know she’s capable of running away from her problems. But she’s not a coward. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. We just need to come up with a good plan. And since, apparently, we’ve a very good bait, that should be easy.” Just lure him in, snap the trap and kill that bastard. I’m sure I can look the other way, figural speaking, if Angel would like to practice his old torture techniques.
“We need to take care of your hands, Faith. Some of the fingers look already set right, but some need to be set and bandaged. I suppose we can ask either one of the others. Oh wait, not Spike anymore I suppose.” Damn, I’m still getting used to the fact that Spike’s a human now. Well, that makes me feel less of a useless git when it comes to strength.
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He wouldn't let Kakistos kill him. That was really rich comin' from the guy who just got ressurected from the dead. Not like I just let Kakistos' best friends come and drag me off and throw me in a cage. Not like I let him nearly kill me alot. Fuck. I was so out of practice and suddenly my veins were burnin'. I just wanted to jump up and beat the fuck out of something. Kinda like I did with Wesley's shower that one time. Tara probably wouldn't appreciate me beating the shit out of her shower stall and besides, broken fingers.
I glanced from his face down to my fingers as he tugged my clothes back onto me. A couple of 'em were bent at really awkward angles and it was painful just to look at 'em. God damn. It'd been a wicked long time since I felt so much....much. Anything. It was almost a blessing in disguise or whatever the hell you call those things. I could feel sharp throbbing pain radiating from my hands up my wrists and it felt good. Because it was real. Because I was alive.
"My fingers need to be set but I can't set them myself. You have to get Angel to do it." I said firmly enough to leave absolutely no doubt about it. I was not gonna be goin' to a hospital anytime ever. Me and hospital? Unmixy things. They had the tendency to make me wanna tear off my own skin. I'd bleed to death on a sidewalk before goin' into one of those places willingly.
Letting out a burst of air from my lips I pouted a little bit and leaned back against the couch. I wish he'd stop hovering over me, it was kinda makin' me nervous.
Finally I just looked up and met his eyes, the palm of my hand resting against his wrist. How lame was that?
"Wes. Stop. I'm fine."
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But then her hand was on my wrist and I knew that, no, I wasn’t allowed.
“Fine,” I said briskly, hiding the hurt I felt at her words behind my usual mask of indifference. Getting up, I started to gather the things I had hardly been able to use back into the first aid kit. Then I quickly stepped away from her, since she made it so abundantly clear she didn’t want me around. Of course not, she had Angel now. Who had done bugger all in the years we had been stuck in Limbo. The great hero.
Alright, not entirely fair, but still.
“I’ll go get Angel,” I told her, keeping any emotion out of my voice while putting the fist aid kit back where I found it. “And then everything will be jolly good.” Closing the doors, perhaps a little bit to loud, I turned around on the balls of my feet and strode over to the door. “Provided I can find him and he’s not ducked away in the nearest dark hole. Otherwise you‘ll have to make due with Connor or Illyria.”
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Jolly good? Yeah, fucking right. Who was he trying to kid? Obviously not me. I frowned when he mentioned Connor or Illyria to set my fingers. Was that was this was about? Angel? What did Angel have to do with any of this? Maybe because I hadn't even thought about Illyria or Connor. They hadn't even crossed my mind at all. It was always about Angel. Not this time. Not after ten years of nothing. How could I believe in nothing?
Then it occured to me that I'd had nothing for almost a decade. Trapped in Limbo with Wes. I guess with so much nothing you have nothing else to believe in. Okay, that thought was starting to confuse me.
"Okay." Was all I said when I really wanted to ask him what the hell that had meant. I wanted to know why he'd suddenly decided he was pissed off at me again. Like I couldn't tell or something. But instead I just turned my face away from him and looked at the wall like it was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen. All I heard was the sound of the door clicking closed before I turned my eyes back to the door.
Letting out a long sigh I sunk down on the couch.
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