Grieving
Disclaimer: Nope, none of the characters are mine. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Warner Brothers, and anyone else affiliated with the show Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Author's Notes: If you like the character of Buffy, you probably shouldn't read on. Can't blame me if you do. (Extra note: Those of you who hated "A Real Man" probably won't like this either. My sick, moronic sense ofhumor shines through once again.)
Buffy clutched the dress to her chest, tears coursing down her cheeks as she stared at her reflection. "Oh Angel," she sobbed, running her hand across the smooth pink material. "Why did you have to leave?" Her head whipped to the side at the sound of a knock on the door. "Come in!" she called. She wiped at her nose with the back of her hand, catching some stray tears and snot. Groaning, she wiped the gooey mess on the dress, only to cry out in dismay when she realized what she'd done.
"Buffy," Joyce started as she pushed the door open. She stopped suddenly, her mouth hanging open in apparent shock. "Is that my shower curtain?"
"Mom!" Buffy clutched the dress tighter. Her eyes narrowed defensively as Joyce inched closer.
"Buffy, put the shower curtain down."
"He's gone," Buffy sobbed. "He left me."
"I know. Just… give me the shower curtain." Joyce came to a stop at her daughter's side, her expression concerned. "I'm not going to hurt it. I just need to hang it back in the bathroom, honey. I've been getting a draft."
"No," Buffy said, pulling away.
"Buffy, honey." Joyce grit her teeth as she grasped the dress in Buffy's arms. "Let go, now. Give Mommy the shower curtain."
"It's not a fucking shower curtain!" Buffy screamed. She took a step back. "It's my prom dress! All for him! It was all for him and he left me!" Weeping now, the distraught teen threw herself on her bed, the dress still held tightly to her chest.
"You made a prom dress out of my shower curtain?" Joyce asked, bewildered. "How'd you manage that?"
"Scotch tape," came the muffled response.
"Oh sweetie," Joyce cooed, sitting on the bed beside Buffy. She stroked her daughter's hair and gave her a gentle smile. "I knew that kindergarten would pay off. I'm so proud of you." She leaned down to plant a kiss on the back of Buffy's head.
Buffy turned her head to face her mother. "Really?"
"Of course," Joyce replied. "I couldn't live without you."
Buffy sniffed and raised her head a bit, allowing herself a weak smile. "I love you too."
"Good." Joyce extended a hand. "Now give me the shower curtain."
Buffy's eyes widened. Her lower lip started to quiver as she rolled over and sat up, eyeing her mother warily. "I can't."
"Buffy…"
Closing her eyes, Buffy shoved the dress out in front of her. She didn't open her eyes as she felt it being taken from her. She couldn't bear to look now, to watch it go. Joyce tiptoed away from the bed and tossed the dress out into the hall, then returned to her daughter's side. "There you go, Buffy. You can open your eyes."
Slowly, carefully, Buffy did. She grimaced, but let her mother give her another gentle kiss. "Why don't you get some sleep, honey?" Joyce asked, standing. "You've had a long day. You should get some rest and put all of this behind you."
Buffy nodded numbly, then watched silently as Joyce crossed the room, stopping only to blow her a kiss before disappearing into the hall. As the door swung shut, Buffy's tears returned with full force. She lowered her head and let her sorrow consume her. Minutes passed, Buffy's sobbing grew harder and louder. Her face was flushed with her exertions and snot ran freely down her chin.
Still weeping, Buffy glanced up again at the mirror across the room. She stood on shaky legs and crossed over to it. "You left me," she accused it, swiping an arm across her puffy eyes. "You made me love you and then you left me. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" As her voice rose in volume, so did her fury. She lashed out with a fist and threw her head back in wild laughter as the glass shattered.
Lifting her bloody hand to her face, the still weeping teen half-coughed, half-sobbed as heart wrenching sorrow again replaced her rage. A pain shot through her head and she brought her other hand up as well. Clutching her temples, Buffy lurched toward the door. Sobs continued to pound through her pain wracked body.
"Mom," Buffy croaked, lowering her hands just long enough to work the knob on the door. Once in the hall, she brought them up to clutch her head again. "Mom, my head hurts." She stumbled another few steps then fell to her knees. She continued to cry and let out a blood-curdling scream.
Joyce reached the top of the steps just in time to hear Buffy's scream cut off, then she was bombarded, bits of blond hair and Slayer flesh slapping against her face. Seeing what had become of her daughter, she screamed. It was just too much for the distraught woman. Sinking down beside Buffy, she cried in absolute anguish for her lost daughter.
Moments later Joyce moaned and, lifting her suddenly painful head, she too exploded from her grief.