The phone rings and I run out of the kitchen and into the living room and pick it up. I don't know who'd be calling, everyone's here already. Maybe it's Tara.
"Hello?" I say, flinching a little from the cold headpiece against my ear.
Ohmigod. Giles. I just realized... we never told him. We meant to and then... stuff got in the way. I really don't wanna be the one to tell him. But I guess I'll have to.
"Um. We're not so good, Giles. I think you need to come home."
I know that he's at home right now but it doesn't feel right. His home is with us. With Buffy. And now just with us.
"Um. In a manner of speaking." I think of Buffy, upstairs, hooked up to all those machines and wires, and my throat is all tight.
"But not really." I sink to the floor. I try not to think about her too much, but explaining it all to Giles. And how it's gonna make him feel. And it just brings back the hopelessness and the anger.
And to the rescue I came. Next I'll be savin' puppies and kittens in trees. God, I need a life in the worst way aside from 'work'.
Crouchin' down by Dawn, I waved a pair of fingers in front of her view, "Whoa there half pint. You okay? Ya look like ya need a drink. One of H...and O...and..." What the fuck was the other letter in tha' combination? Fuck it, who cares?
"Ya need some water." She didn't look like she should be on the phone. The look in those sad eyes was clear enough tha' the poor kid went through too fuckin' much in a matter of a year. She had her mom die. Then her sister. Which, I had felt. I knew she was dead. A Slayer sister connection we would always have. Maybe tha's why I felt so damn bad for Dawnie? She was made from B. She was B. Jus' a taller...mini version of her. Tha' make me connected to her, too?
"C'mon. Want me to sit ya in a chair or sommin'?" Better than the hard ass floor.
"H two O," I say automatically as I move the phone away from my ear and hang it up. "That was Giles. He's coming back. I didn't get a chance to tell him..."
I look up at Faith, into her eyes. I guess prison really changed her. She really seems to care now. But I don't trust her. I can't. I'm tired of people that I trust leaving me.
"Do you wanna see her?" I ask. She'll have to eventually. And while Giles got me on the subject. I mean, she's still here. My sister, I mean. I still have to 'live' with her.
I'm still on the floor. I stand up and place the phone back in its cradle. I'm shaking a little but I think I'm okay now. Giles just got me thinking to everything that's happened and how and it wasn't pretty. I just stare at Faith expectantly.
I don't think I heard anything but, "Do you wanna see her?" How could I hear anything else? It was like a blow to the head. Wha' did the half pint mean, see her? Go to the hospital and see her? Uh uh. I was a wanted fugative still. Anywhere in public or in well lit areas would be a red flag and they'd be searchin' this city high and low for my ass. Plus, hospitals and I don't mesh. Especially when I'd be visiting someone in a coma.
"Uh, I'm thinkin' tha' ain't such a good idea. Was hell jus' gettin' over here. Though, Wes gave me a ride. Still, was hard gettin' 'round and goin' there, to see B in a coma, after I was in one for her havin' put me in one...sorta not the bondin' I was lookin' for." Which is true.
And god! Why the hell was I choked up over jus' thinkin' of Buff layin' there all hooked up to wiring and such? My heart broke and I felt like I'd cry. But no! Faith does NOT cry. Mom told me so. It did no good. Memories were embedded in my head with crying. It meant more pain.
I stare at Faith for a minute. Oh. She thinks Buffy is in the hospital. "Yeah, I know. I get that. But... Buffy's here."
I have to look at the floor when I drop the bomb. This is so weird. All weird. And I hate her for making it so weird. I hate her for being weak and selfish. I hate her for putting me, here, now, telling Faith that she's in a coma and we're living in a house where she's just on the other side of the wall the whole time.
B's here. In this house. Under the same roof. Layin' there lifeless. Hooked up to machines. Survivin' not the way we're meant to. But by science. Not magic and not the instinct to live, but by medical breakthroughs. By doctors regulating her diet. Her meds. By technology. Machines monitoring her heart rate. Her brain waves, if she had any at all.
Like me she lays. Does she dream in color? In black and white? Can she hear us? Wha's it like for her? I remember mine. Every dream I had was of, and because of, her. Would she dream of me?
No. Why should she?
She had fam. I didn't. She'd been the closest thing to tha' and I had ruin it. Maybe I partially had responsibility in this? I did. I know I did.
Not maybe. I didPressing my lips together, I bit on my tongue. Feeling this overwhelming sensation to curl up in a ball and wail. B was the tough one. The heroine. I was her shadow and she was the light. I was the bad and she the good. She wasn't supposed to be like tha'! And I needed to tell her
( ... )
"Yeah. Okay." I don't know what's going on inside of Faith but I know she's thinking. I can almost hear the wheels in her brain turning.
... well, not really, I can't. I never got it why people said that. But I kind of get it now. Like her brain's in overdrive. Like I just totally shocked her. Which I guess I did. Just because I've had time to get over my shock doesn't mean that she wouldn't freak out. I mean... Faith and Buffy... had a weird relationship.
"I'll go get dressed. And you can talk to her. Um. If you want." I turn around and walk towards the stairs. The thought of leaving Spike and Xander in the kitchen alone crosses my mind for a moment - not good - but I don't really care. Let them be stupid. As long as they don't break anything it's fine. Whatever.
"Thanks, Squirt." I whispered and followed her to the stairs. Pausing with my hand on the banister. This was it. I mean...I know she'd come to see me the first time I was in the hospital, and somethin' told me tha' she came there after. Small and short lived visits, though they might've been; she came. Never to check up on me. I know. I think deep down, she was worried f'me. Like I am f'her
( ... )
"In her room." I pause at the door to Buffy's room. Not really her room anymore, but still hers. Does that make any sense? First it was the Buffybot in there with all of the wires, then it was the real thing. But I didn't ever want to sleep next to the real Buffy. Because this time she left us for a different reason.
We keep the door closed, but not locked. I push on the door and it swings open. It's kind of dim in there, not dark, but not really bright. We don't want it to look all depressing and stuff.
I take a step back and look at Faith. Surprisingly, I can sympathize with her. She's feeling what we all felt. And it makes me feel better that she can feel that about Buffy. I feel better about Faith.
"She's in there," I say simply, then turn around and dash into the bathroom.
"Hello?" I say, flinching a little from the cold headpiece against my ear.
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"Um. We're not so good, Giles. I think you need to come home."
I know that he's at home right now but it doesn't feel right. His home is with us. With Buffy. And now just with us.
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"But not really." I sink to the floor. I try not to think about her too much, but explaining it all to Giles. And how it's gonna make him feel. And it just brings back the hopelessness and the anger.
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Crouchin' down by Dawn, I waved a pair of fingers in front of her view, "Whoa there half pint. You okay? Ya look like ya need a drink. One of H...and O...and..." What the fuck was the other letter in tha' combination? Fuck it, who cares?
"Ya need some water." She didn't look like she should be on the phone. The look in those sad eyes was clear enough tha' the poor kid went through too fuckin' much in a matter of a year. She had her mom die. Then her sister. Which, I had felt. I knew she was dead. A Slayer sister connection we would always have. Maybe tha's why I felt so damn bad for Dawnie? She was made from B. She was B. Jus' a taller...mini version of her. Tha' make me connected to her, too?
"C'mon. Want me to sit ya in a chair or sommin'?" Better than the hard ass floor.
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I look up at Faith, into her eyes. I guess prison really changed her. She really seems to care now. But I don't trust her. I can't. I'm tired of people that I trust leaving me.
"Do you wanna see her?" I ask. She'll have to eventually. And while Giles got me on the subject. I mean, she's still here. My sister, I mean. I still have to 'live' with her.
I'm still on the floor. I stand up and place the phone back in its cradle. I'm shaking a little but I think I'm okay now. Giles just got me thinking to everything that's happened and how and it wasn't pretty. I just stare at Faith expectantly.
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"Uh, I'm thinkin' tha' ain't such a good idea. Was hell jus' gettin' over here. Though, Wes gave me a ride. Still, was hard gettin' 'round and goin' there, to see B in a coma, after I was in one for her havin' put me in one...sorta not the bondin' I was lookin' for." Which is true.
And god! Why the hell was I choked up over jus' thinkin' of Buff layin' there all hooked up to wiring and such? My heart broke and I felt like I'd cry. But no! Faith does NOT cry. Mom told me so. It did no good. Memories were embedded in my head with crying. It meant more pain.
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I have to look at the floor when I drop the bomb. This is so weird. All weird. And I hate her for making it so weird. I hate her for being weak and selfish. I hate her for putting me, here, now, telling Faith that she's in a coma and we're living in a house where she's just on the other side of the wall the whole time.
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B's here. In this house. Under the same roof. Layin' there lifeless. Hooked up to machines. Survivin' not the way we're meant to. But by science. Not magic and not the instinct to live, but by medical breakthroughs. By doctors regulating her diet. Her meds. By technology. Machines monitoring her heart rate. Her brain waves, if she had any at all.
Like me she lays. Does she dream in color? In black and white? Can she hear us? Wha's it like for her? I remember mine. Every dream I had was of, and because of, her. Would she dream of me?
No. Why should she?
She had fam. I didn't. She'd been the closest thing to tha' and I had ruin it. Maybe I partially had responsibility in this? I did. I know I did.
Not maybe. I didPressing my lips together, I bit on my tongue. Feeling this overwhelming sensation to curl up in a ball and wail. B was the tough one. The heroine. I was her shadow and she was the light. I was the bad and she the good. She wasn't supposed to be like tha'! And I needed to tell her ( ... )
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... well, not really, I can't. I never got it why people said that. But I kind of get it now. Like her brain's in overdrive. Like I just totally shocked her. Which I guess I did. Just because I've had time to get over my shock doesn't mean that she wouldn't freak out. I mean... Faith and Buffy... had a weird relationship.
"I'll go get dressed. And you can talk to her. Um. If you want." I turn around and walk towards the stairs. The thought of leaving Spike and Xander in the kitchen alone crosses my mind for a moment - not good - but I don't really care. Let them be stupid. As long as they don't break anything it's fine. Whatever.
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We keep the door closed, but not locked. I push on the door and it swings open. It's kind of dim in there, not dark, but not really bright. We don't want it to look all depressing and stuff.
I take a step back and look at Faith. Surprisingly, I can sympathize with her. She's feeling what we all felt. And it makes me feel better that she can feel that about Buffy. I feel better about Faith.
"She's in there," I say simply, then turn around and dash into the bathroom.
(Faith, if you want to make a new post... :D)
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My world had just gone very dark, and silent. Nothing could penetrate it.
I called and made arrangements to leave as soon as possible. And I packed.
I don't think I could have told anyone what I put n the suitcase, because I don't know myself.
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