Disclaimer: I/We own no part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No infringement of copyright is contemplated or intended. (No resemblance to anyone living, dead or undead is intended either).
Outside... It's a Dark and Stormy Night.
The storm had moved in from the west shortly after midnight, the roiling clouds quickly obscuring the night sky and the disk of a full moon. Now, reaching 3am, the wind had risen dramatically, flinging rain against the window, smearing the lights of the city which occupied the increasing width of the valley below.
The sudden flare of a lightning strike forced her enhanced eyesight to adjust automatically, even as she counted in an old habit. 'One One-thousand, Two One-thousand, Three One-thousand, Four One-thousand, Five One-thousand... Feeling some relief that the storm was moving on, she relaxed slightly; the rattle of wind-driven rain on the glass not yet allowing of rest...
All the time growing up, if it was dark outside, she had hated the sound of rain rushing against the glass of any room she happened to be in. Even being Called as a Slayer had not diminished the anxiety engendered by those circumstances, but at least now she knew why...
Her actions in Sunnydale could have so easily resulted in an epithet of 'Death by Stupidity'. Instead the almost nine-months of coma which actually occured as a result of her decisions had changed something fundamental within her.
Of course, unaware at first, she had gone back to reacting in remembered ways, but her temporary stay in Stockton had given her the time to decompress after the shit-storm of her life up to that point; which ended, ironically enough, in a rain soaked alley in Los Angeles.
The Slayer was nothing if not adaptable to changing circumstances and she had become a voracious reader of the surprisingly eclectic prison library; earning her GED and prepping for college courses which caught her eye. Court mandated psychiatric sessions had been there to be taken advantage of, and she had used the first few sessions to assess the woman in the chair opposite her...
Knowing that remaining uncommunicative wasn't the way to go, she'd expressed her fear to see what she would say.
Self analysis had never been her forte, and using the ideas the woman had thrown out there for her to think about, she knew the memory of her trauma was buried deep, more than probably before her personality had developed to full awareness at age seven or so.
It had taken quite a few weeks of using the meditation techniques Diana had tried to instil in her, but eventually she had worked her way back through her life to that one defining moment. It had been such a simple thing, but she had come back to the real world to find herself palming tears from her cheeks.
Now she was here. Standing vigil. Bound and determined that such a thing would never happen again. Would never scar a delicate young psyche again.
As the sound of thunder rumbled past her condo, she heard a small whimper behind her. Turning as quickly as her gravid belly would allow, she made her way over to the single bed against the wall, using a well remembered maneuver to lower her bulk to the comforter below. Small arms slid around her neck and a voice whispered in her ear, "I'm scared."
She hugged the young girl, her grip strong and gentle. "It's okay, baby. Mama's here."
The End.