Why She Fights (3)
Rona had heard the world ignored Sunnydale. The Hellmouth had hidden a murder rate the size of a West African civil war and all sorts of weirdness. Well, Sunnydale was nationwide now. The TV in the hospital lounge had the town--actually, the crater that had been the town--on every channel from CNN to PBS. Reactions were off the charts. Talking heads said it was one of the biggest natural disasters in the US. Crazies on the left and right screamed that the president had rigged it to declare martial law, or that is was a weapons test gone wrong. The Sunnydale sinkhole even got equal time with the chaos in Los Angeles. Most of the city was rioting over some "Cult of Jasmine" and the panic from the eclipse a few weeks ago. Eclipse? Right! She had heard enough about Willow's field trip to pick up Faith that Buffy's friends there were dealing with some serious shit of their own. Two apocalypses in one year was just unfair! The Governator and White House had declared a state of emergency. Most of the National Guard and army not out of the country was streaming into SoCal. Refugees were everywhere, including Oxnard. Rona and the rest of the Sunnydale survivors were posing as LA refugees to avoid reporters asking them about the sinkhole.
That panning shot of the helicopter flying over the crater flashed on screen again. Rona glanced at Buffy, lying on the opposite end of the couch. She and Rona were the last two Slayers in the hospital. Mr. Giles had taken Nafisah and Gretta to the Sunnydalers' place in a refugee camp at a navy base by Oxnard's port. Kennedy's cash could buy almost anything except a place to stay. Every hotel, motel, and campground within a hundred miles of LA was either full of refugees or soldiers. Rona didn't miss the other two Slayers. Sure, they were nice girls and all. Just not tight the way she was with Vi and, in a way, with Kennedy. Neither had come around. Probably had their own heads to clear and not want to deal with Buffy while doing it. Mr. Wood had been put into intensive care after a second operation. So Rona had spent the last two days with only Buffy for company. The oldest living Slayer was quiet most of the time. Just lying there with that smile Rona couldn't figure out. Happy? Sad? What?
The shot froze. For a moment, Rona could almost see the camera focusing on the house on Revello Drive.
Everything. Buffy had lost everything.
"Must be some drugs you're getting," Rona said.
"Demerol was my friend." Buffy plucked at the IV tube. "I'm just in 'fire bad, tree pretty' mode right now. A lot like after I blew up the high school the first time. Angst later--basking in the fact I'm free of it all for once."
"You blew up your what?" Rona's brows shot up to her dreads. "Getting the feeling not all of Andrew's stories are bullshit! What did you do that for?"
"To blow up the Mayor," Buffy said. "Xander was the one who set the explosives. I lured in Mayor Wilkins after he became the giant snake demon at graduation."
"Snakes? Nobody told me about giant snakes!" Rona leapt up, pacing. "I thought that once we dealt with the First, it'd be maybe a few vamps every night."
"Rona, shhhh!" Buffy hissed. "We're trying to be low-pro here."
"How did you stand it for seven years?" Rona shook her head.
"Not easily." Buffy shrugged. "A lot of times I felt like I was the one girl in all the world. Wait, I was."
"Mr. Giles talked about destiny and all that." Rona buried her face in her hands. "Thing is, my life wasn't much. Kicking around the hood, cutting school and all that. Not much place for a black woman in America living like that. But it was my life. I didn't ask for...for fighting evil like I was Foxy Brown. I mean, yeah, it's cool and all that. Just--I'm scared!"
"I had a life too, before this." Buffy scooted over beside Rona. She leaned forward, elbows on knees. "An airhead cheerleader in LA whose biggest plan in life was winning Homecoming and snagging squad captain in senior year. There isn't a week when I wi--um, bad word. Wonder if I could go back to being that girl who probably would have ended up marrying the quarterback and having the two point five kids while he had sex with his secretary on the side before running off to Spain and could it have killed my dad to call--"
Buffy coughed into a fist.
"Back onto the relevant," Buffy said. "Warning you here, there might be speech."
"Maybe this one time I'll listen," Rona said.
"Here's the big secret: the big moments always come." Buffy smiled sadly. "There's always something. Destiny, prophecy, a brain tumour. You can try to dodge them, or get ready for them. Sometimes you can. But even when you think you're safe, the big moments come."
"What's the point, if you can't change anything?" Rona demanded.
"Didn't say that," Buffy said. "We're not puppets. Not usually, although once we met this demon hunter who-- See, that moment when you think nothing you do matters? That's the exact moment when it matters what you do. It's that decision right after it all happens that's important. It's where you find out who you are."
"I'm fifteen years old. I don't want to die." Rona wiped her eyes. "I haven't even figured out who I am yet."
"You're the girl who walked into the mouth of hell with me," Buffy said, handing Rona a tissue, "totally kicked major ass, and walked right out. Me, thinking that's a good start."
"Might be right, there." Rona blew her nose. "Buff, did I ever thank you for saving me at the bus station, first time?"
"Just my job," Buffy said, hand flicked in dismissal. "I had you penciled in between getting the groceries and picking up Dawn from school."
"Glad I matter," Rona said. "Still, you know, thanks. Even if you did nearly get me killed about half-dozen times."
"You're welcome." Buffy settled back in the pillows.
Rona played with her Game Boy. Tetris only. She couldn't stand anything with fighting in it right now. She ignored the TV. Just too depressing. Although, every so often, she looked up at Buffy who still had that little goofy-assed grin. Lost everything? Maybe not. Home, stuff, yeah. Only she'd brought most of her friends and the people she had protected the best she could. Seven years. No, eight, Buffy had gotten started in LA. Eight years. Ninety six months. How many days, Rona couldn't figure out offhand. Fighting and hurting and even dying, which was a story she'd ask Buffy about. Had to be a head-spinner. All that time, saving people.
Saving her.
Can I do that? Can I?
Can I be that strong?
+++
Punch kick block.
Dodge roundhouse knee strike jab jab.
Clinch elbow strike push away go for the low line--
"Hey, Rona, are you coming?"
"Keep your damn panties on, Buff!" Rona shouted. "I'm finishing up in here."
Rona whipped out the last few moves in her shadow sparring in the deserted therapy room. A backpack stuffed with her new clothes and other things waited by the door. Moving day. She and Buffy were finally leaving the hospital. Buffy wasn't finished healing up yet, but Mr. Giles was worried the doctors might notice how fast it was happening. Shouldering her pack, she headed for the front. Cast was still on. Mr. Giles had told her they'd chip it off at the camp. Nah, screw that. Rona tore off the cast. Yeah! Finally, she could scratch it as much as she could. Yuck, it was all smelly. A quick wash in the bathroom next door fixed that. Gingerly, Rona tested her right forearm. It really was alright, healed up like the rest of the claw wounds and bites. Good thing too, since a body like hers was way too pretty for scars.
Mr. Giles was already pushing Buffy in her wheelchair through the elevator doors. Rushing to catch them, she saw Xander in an empty examination room. A flipped-open cell dangled in one hand Damn, he looked so tired. In Sunnydale, he had always been the one who had always been around to handle problems. Usually running his mouth while handling five different brands of craziness at once. Not to mention kicking Andrew's ass in gear when he needed it. Even after Caleb-- Rona waved the senior Slayer and the Watcher off. Quietly, she tiptoed into the exam room. Rona jerked her head away when she saw Xander's patch was up; he was kneading the skin around his socket. She had a brief glimpse of black--just black--through the half-open eyelid.
"Don't worry, it's back down," Xander said.
"That? Nah, that's no big thing." He had pulled down the patch, much to her relief. "You okay?"
"Just dealing with the massive busy tone that is LA's phone system." Xander ran his fingers through shaggy hair. "Things have to be bad. Deadboy is probably still figuring out that you don't crank a cell before dialing. Cordy not answering? Now that's a sign of the apocalyse."
"Aw, man, do we have to go three for three now?" The names were ones Rona didn't know. Probably the Scooby's friends Willow had visited.
"I think we're up to quota on those." Xander rolled his shoulders. "Hey, c'mon, let's get you back to Camp Crystal Lake, where you can trade hospital food for the yumminess of MRE's."
"Anything's better than the crap they serve here," Rona said, as they headed for the elevators
"I'm going to write that down," Xander said, "and when you taste one, I'll make sure to provide the ironic laugh and mocking gestures."
"Wonderful." Rona hunched down. "I heard about Anya. Sorry. You okay?"
"I've had my heart ripped out before," Xander said. "Literally. Let me tell you, First Slayers? Not morning people. This isn't anything new. We've lost people before. I'll deal."
"It's just--" Rona hunched down further. "I tried to block them off, really. Only I think one got past me--"
"Okay, stop," Xander said. He shook his head. "There's only one steering wheel in the Guiltmobile, and today I'm the designated driver. Ahn knew the risks. We both knew it...it might be the last. My girl. Always doing the stupid thing."
"Why stupid?" Rona asked. "Sounds to me she went out a hero."
"That's the heroic part." Xander beamed. "The first apocalypse Ahn was around for as a human, she ran for the hills. Even invited me along, who knows why. I didn't give that good prom. When she came back--every time she should have done the smart thing, did the opposite. Always chose the stupid thing, right down to the end. Trying to be human, fighting with us."
Xander laid his head on the steel elevator doors. His chest hitched.
"Loving me. Cordy could have told her that. The stupidest thing."
"Xan?" Rona used a little of her strength to hold him up. "We're taking the stairs now, okay?"
"Good idea," Xander replied, following her. "All of a sudden I need some bracing. Uh, exercise."
Xander seemed to get better as they went down the stairs. Seemed. Rona wasn't fooled. Funny thing, Xander might be all smiles on the outside. But she knew he'd been fronting Mr. Cheer when he had come home with one eye gone. Outside, Buffy and Mr. Giles waited in one of the back seats of a Hummvee driven by a man in a navy uniform. Buffy darted a worried look at Rona. Rona gave a quick head-shake in answer. She guided Xander into the back seat, crowding him close to Buffy. The blond slayer curled her arm around his as his head tipped back. They'd won against the First Evil. Put it right into the ground. Dammit, the cost was high. Nobody should hurt this bad.
As they drove to the port, Rona made a decision right there.
She was going to do the stupid thing.