The Appointment

Written By : Big Blue Bunny

Disclaimer : I don't own, don't intend on making any money, and hope no one intends to sue.

Summary : A father tries to deal with the death of his son. Post-Graduation.

Authors Notes : This is the second story in a series I am writing. This series is titled 'Everyone Has A Tale…' wherein I exploit the lifes of the 'common people' of the Buffy universe. These people don't play a big part, if have ever been shown PERIOD on the series. Most will never have met the Scoobie gang. And even some will quite possibly still be naïve about the goings on of their fair city. This is a one shot story, and I don't have any plans to write a sequel, prequel, or anything to this story.

Enjoy

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Paul Walters sat in the waiting room fidgeting with the three month old Psychology Today in his hands. He was a haunted man. His usually bright hazel eyes seemed dull; bags lay low beneath them. In the week since the incident he had lost a total of ten pounds; it was beginning to show in his jowels. The slump in his posture and the wrinkles in his suit gave the man an aura of a defeat.

The images of the previous week played before his tired eyes on the dull white walls that encased him. First the joy, then the carnage.

To be honest, Paul hadn't expected his son to finally graduate this year. He was already a fifth year senior and the chances of him graduating when his first semester came to an end seemed very much against him. But something in his son changed the weekend before his second semester began; he had the sudden urge to learn, live, and make a life for himself. Paul didn't know exactly what had gotten into his son, but he was glad for it. Not only had he kept his grades up for his second semester, but he actually sought out and made up any assignments that were holding him back from graduating. It was quite a remarkable change in his son, Paul thought.

Now he wished his son had never graduated that year.

"Mr. Walters?" The receptionist's kind feminine voice broke him out of his thoughts. He brought his empty gaze upon her face.

Apparently whatever his face was saying to the receptionist was not a very pleasant one; as he looked up, her eyes grew soft and understanding of a pain she was never told of.

She spoke. "Gracie will see you now."

Paul nodded and gathered up his jacket. He then followed the petite receptionist to a door that feigned joy. A cardboard picture showed an overly green field and a smiling sun which gazed down on a farmhouse occupied by a bell toting cow. In a white rectangle in the middle someone had written with a fat felt tipped black marker 'GRACIE' and below it 'Room 9.'

Paul knocked purposely below the picture so as not to disrupt the sun's joy. Some things deserve to be happy, he thought to himself.

"Come in?" a voice from inside called. Paul opened the door and looked inside. There he found Gracie in her chair, smiling at him. The woman before him was obviously in her late fourties. She too had bags under her eyes, but she seemed to wear hers like badges of honor. As if to say she had fought her battles and won. Her graying hair seemed to speak of a woman who wasn't afraid of what others thought of her. Her tie-dye skirt showed both her independence and sense of humor. Yes, she seemed a strong woman. She was obviously born and breed in Sunnydale; unlike Paul and his family.

Paul was raised in Los Angeles, California but moved to Denver, Colorado at the age of twenty-three in hopes of starting a new life away from the rush of Los Angeles. That was where he met his wife Cynthia, or Cyndi as friends called her. They married a year after meeting. Not but a year after that they had their first son, Jimmy. Two years after Jimmy was born they had the twins, Adam and Andrea.

They brought up their children in Denver as a fairly happy family, but weren't without their faults. Jimmy became a problem child at his school as he was entering third grade. He didn't seem to care about learning. He would ditch school, talk back to the teachers, and one time he even threw his backpack at the playground monitor for telling him to give a ball back to the child he stole it from. After a while it became so bad with Jimmy that he was forced to transfer schools.

Then about the time Jimmy was entering tenth grade, Paul was laid off from his job. With the money Cynthia was still earning as a Quick Qopy district manager they were able to live fine. But as time went on, and Paul wasn't able to find a job, money became short.

Then Paul got a call from a cousin of his. Paul's cousin, Ellen, owned a chain of clothing stores that was thinking of branching out. She heard that Paul was running into hard times and asked him if he were willing to run a new store for her in Sunnydale, California. After some discussions with his family, it was decided that he would take the job. Cynthia would take over one of the Quick Qopy stores that had recently lost its owner. And as luck would have it, the Quick Qopy and the store Paul would be taking over were located in the same mall. Thus the entire family transplanted into Sunnydale and their lives would change drastically because of it.

"Come on in, Paul." Gracie smile brightly and motioned him in, breaking him from his thoughts.

Paul nodded and closed the door behind him. He took a seat on a fluffy brown couch that for some reason made him think of that show Blues Clues that his teenage daughter Andrea watched obsessivly. One quick look around and it was easy to figure out this woman was very much into positive thinking. Posters with happy-go-lucky messeges and cute animals, self-help books with titles like 'Yes You Can!' and 'Nobody Deserves Happiness Over Me.'

Paul broke his eyes away from the walls and focused on Gracie. Gracie sat there smiling, yet at the same time had an aura of concern.

"So." Gracie stated, obviously trying to start up the conversation.

Paul was too afraid to discuss why he was here. He knew he needed to, but he couldn't get himself to. So he did what came naturally to him; he dodged the topic.

"You know your magazines are out of date out there."

Gracie frowned and sighed. "Uh oh.."

Paul looked at her questioningly.

Gracie continued. "I've noticed that when someone has something they want to tell me, but it's affected them so greatly they'd rather avoid it, they talk about the magazines."

"Oh." Paul pouted.

Gracie smiled.

Both sat in silence for a while, then Gracie broke the silence. "We're getting new one's tommorow."

"New what?" Paul asked.

Gracie smiled again, this time a little softer then usual. "Magazines."

"Oh."

Paul and Gracie sat there for a while.

Gracie sighed and her face grew solemn. "I watched the news." She said silently.

Pauls eyes welled up with tears, but he refused them permission to fall again. His eyes burned too much from the previous bouts of crying.

Gracie pressed on. "Your son?"

Paul nodded and brought a hand up to his mouth, having to try harder not to cry. His face scrunched up and turning red from his attempts.

Gracie walked over and knelt in front of him. She sat there for a long time looking into the avoiding eyes of Paul. Before Paul knew it he was in a tight hug.

He gave in to the tears. He let out a yelp which sprayed spittle; the tears rushed forth and flowed down his face. His face, his once happy face, was scrunched up and alien looking as he let himself be carried away by the sadness which had overtaken his life recently.

He and Cynthia bought a watch for Jimmy as a graduation present. They were going to give it to him afterward. They had it enscribed with the simple messege; 'Well it's about time!' They tried to keep the gift a secret from Jimmy, but after a while they had no choice but to give it away; they didn't know if he perfered silver or gold. He picked the silver.

Paul's business was doing well. Despite a few incidences in the mall the store was located in, and a robbery attempt the fall after they moved to town, things were going very well. The twins had adjusted well to their new surroundings. They kept in touch with their old friends via the computer, but had no problems making new ones in this town. The pamphlets he got from city hall were right; people in this town were very friendly.

Jimmy had a fairly hard time adjusting at first, but after a while he found some friends. Unfortuantly these friends were not the best Jimmy could have found. He stayed out late at night, came home drunk on more then a few occasions, and was arrested for petty theft and other minor offences a number of times.

But in the end he pulled through. He seemed happier and was overall better for it. And this day he was going to graduate. That morning was the happiest he had been. But poor Jimmy knew that this day could very well have been his last.

Paul opened his eyes and forced the tears away. Gracie sensed the shift in his emotional state and slowly released him of the embrace. She sat in her chair just opposite of him and handed him a box of tissues. Paul took the box in whole and began wiping his face.

It was Paul who spoke first this time.

"I miss him." He looked down at the ground and tried to count the bumps in the carpet so he didn't have to think about what he was going to say next. "He survived the initial attack. But he didn't make it through the night." He lost count of the bumps after three.

He continued. "He was so happy that morning. He really was, but" he looked up. "he seemed… off."

Gracie picked up her notepad and jotted down a quick note, then looked up and asked. "How do you mean 'off'?"

Paul swallowed. "I'm not sure. He just seemed different; sad maybe. I mean, it was something I didn't pick up on at the time; I was too preoccupied with the graduation to pay attention to something that seemed so small like that." He paused and took in a shivered breath. "I should have noticed it."

Gracie's voice was calm and collected. "There was no way you could have known."

Paul looked up, anger evident on his face. "But I'm his father!" The tears banged against the back of his eyes, but he shut them back. "I should know these things. I should be able to tell. He shouldn't have-" He stopped himself there. He turned his face up as if he had just eaten a sour lemon.

"You couldn't have known." Gracie reminded him. "I know you feel remorse, and it's understandable, but there was no way you could have known something like this was going to happen."

Paul sighed, but didn't open his eyes. "I know." He shivered at the sound of his own voice. He was a defeated man and his voice showed it.

The events of that day were such a blur. First it was a bright cheerful day. He remembered waving at his son as he walked past. The mayor, the man he voted for, beginning his speech. Then the darkness and chaos set in. He, Cynthia, and the twins ran away as fast as they could. Adam got lost at one point, but they did find him. They couldn't find Jimmy. In fact, they didn't see one graduating student outside of the school. They only heard screams of both raging war and wounded people from within the confines of the place that was supposed to be a safe haven.

Finally the explosion. The ear-shattering mind-numbing explosion of the school.

"He had so much promise now!" Paul shouted as he grinded his teeth. "He was turning his life around! He was doing well in school, he went to the prom, and he was planning on going to college after graduation!" Paul found himself standing up and pacing the room. "He was talking about how he wanted to be a psychology major! Him, the boy that's put himself through so much crap, said he wanted to help other people!" He pointed at Gracie. "He wanted to be like you. And I was never so happy in my life." He punched the wall then put his head against it as he ran out of energy. "He wanted to do something with his life."

Gracie stood up and put her arm around him again. Paul turned around and started crying holding onto her as if she was a lifeline.

They finally found Jimmy being taken to an ambulance by a girl. Paul would remember that girl for as long as he lived because this was the girl that saved his life. She had blonde hair and seemed pretty petite. But she was obviously pretty strong if she could help Jimmy to the ambulance. She never asked for any thanks. But Paul and his wife wouldn't let her leave without finding out her name; Sarah Greene.

Jimmy told his parents later that night that he was knocked across the quad by a giant monster, something his parents would have believed was a hallucination if they hadn't seen the creature themselves, and that if Sarah hadn't found him he would have been blown up along with the school.

After a while Paul grew tired of his embrace with Gracie and shrugged her off. He took a spot back on the couch put his head in his hands.

He looked up Gracie and asked, "How much time do we have left?"

Gracie looked at her watch, then back at Paul. "Fifty minutes."

Paul swallowed and thought for a second. "I think we should cut this short."

Gracie's eyes grew worried. "Are you sure?"

Paul thought about it for a second more, then nodded. "Yes, I'm certain."

Gracie nodded. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. "If you feel the need to talk, you have my number."

Gracie opened the door and led Paul out into the hallway. Paul reached behind him to pull out his wallet so he could pay Gracie for her time, but she placed a hand on his arm. Paul looked up questioningly. "No," she said. "No charge." and smiled.

Paul smiled back at her, then his face shifted back into his previous dead expression.

As Paul began walking toward the front door Gracie called out. "Do you want me to research some support groups for you?"

Paul didn't bother looking back, but put a hand up in an affirmative gesture and continued walking on.

He walked past the pretty receptionist, the old magazines, out the door, and into the blinding sunlight outside. For some reason the sunlight didn't make him feel safe anymore.

He walked the short distance to the parking structure he had left his car parked in. After a short climb up some stairs and a quick search, he found his car and got in.

He sat by his sons hospital bed holding his hand. Cynthia had the other hand while the twins sat next to each other near his wife. Jimmy's was breathing shallow. He suffered from broken ribs, a caved in lung, and other internal damages Paul couldn't begin to pronounce.

Paul looked up at his wife but she continued looking into the pale face of their eldest son. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she showed the same resiliance against them as the rest of the family had.

After a minute longer he stood up. He couldn't take the tension in the room any longer so he decided to get some coffee.

He stood at the machine down the hall from his sons room rumaging for quarters in his pockets. The clinking of the coins in his pockets was a welcome change from the beeps of machines.

As he dropped the second coin into the machine he suddenly heard footsteps. He looked to his left and saw a doctor and two nurses running his way. He inched closer to the machine to let them pass. As they ran past he looked to his right to see whose room they were running off too. He felt his heart sink as he realized his sons room was in that direction.

He felt his heart hit the ground the moment he saw them turn into Jimmy's room.

Everything seemed to go into slow motion at that moment. He let the coins fall out of his hands and clatter onto the floor as he began his mad dash towards his sons room. Each step he took seemed to take him further away from his destination rather then towards it. After what seemed like an eternity in hell he reached the doorway. Inside he saw the nurses and doctor frantically working over his son, trying to revive him. He saw Adam and Andrea holding their mother away from the bed as she frantically tried to reach out for her son. He barely even felt the second doctor push him out of the way as they made their way into the room and too the bedside. He just plain ignored the nurse as they ran out to get the dephibulators in an attempt to restart the teenage boy's heart. The only sound that filled Paul's ears was the long sickening beep of the life support machine.

Each fist Paul brought down on the steering wheel of his car was harder and more frantic then the last. The car responded with what could have been mistaken for a yelp of pain from the savage beating it was receiving. Paul ignored this and focused on trying to ignore his thoughts.

But to no avail.

Images of his son's funeral the previous day played out on the dashboard of the car. The bright sun of that day did nothing to relieve the family of its pain and sorrow. The earth still wet from being soaked down to make the ground easier to break so that they may dig what would soon be filled with another teenage boys body. Another life taken away from another family. Another Sunnydale family had lost a son.

Paul sat in his car and did nothing. He felt to numb to bother moving his limbs. All he felt was the rage and sorrow bubbling inside of him. Soon the bubbling became a rumbling. Then the rumbling became a torrent of screams as Paul opened his mouth. The screaming continued for what seemed like an eternity and didn't show any sign of ceasing. Paul didn't want it to stop either, so he only took in another breath and continued it.

His angst ridden scream could have woken the dead; if only they could be awakened.