Title: Direction
Archiving: All you gotta do is ask.
Feedback: Always appreciated. Email me at bookwrm456@aol.com
Thanks to the Buffistas for getting me so obsessed in the first place, and to PMM for the title.
Standard disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
****************
Buffy falls asleep almost instantly, several steps past exhaustion. She's been tired for months, but this feels different from the bone-deep weariness that has plagued her, body and soul, since she came back to the world.
This feels like the tiredness she felt in high school, after some big, world-threatening battle. The battlefield was the inside of her head, this time; the waxy-faced, bug-eyed demon a small challenge compared to giving up sanity, normalcy, and her mom for good.
She's physically and mentally drained, but somehow Buffy knows she will recover. She likes this certainty-- it is a old friend she wasn't sure that she would ever see again.
With it comes another friend who's been missing since her swan dive. Buffy dreams her old confusing dreams, for the first time since she came back. She's seen the heaven she left in her sleep almost every night, but this is a dream like she used to have, nonsensical and frustrating with a glimmer of something not of her own subconscious.
In her dream, Buffy lies awake in bed. Her room is dark at first, but someone pulls up the blinds and floods the room with sunlight. Buffy squints her eyes shut and pulls the covers over her head-- the brightness stings. Slayers are nocturnal creatures, her mind tells her.
A voice makes it through the blankets, gently chiding. "C'mon, B. This place is a mess-- we're nowhere near ready."
Buffy is suddenly standing, fully dressed, at the side of the bed; the transition from almost-asleep to frowning at Faith has been neatly skipped over.
"I though we were done with this. The countdown's counted, and I really need my beauty sleep." She sits down on the bed--or tries to, at least. The room shifts, and she finds herself landing on a chair across the room. "And stop playing games!"
"Don't be such a baby." Faith grins at her. "Christ, B, you look like-- excuse the language-- death warmed over."
Now Buffy feels a little sheepish. "I know I don't look my best. But weirdly enough, I feel better than I have in ages."
"That's why I'm here." Faith smiles her Cheshire-cat smile again. She starts tossing pillows to the floor and straightening the blankets.
"Did you bring a friend?" Buffy stands and walks to the window. Outside, she sees the harsh sunlight of the First's desert, but something's changed. It looks like... springtime. "She can't be happy about all this."
"She's not, but she'll adjust. She always does. That's why she sent me-- to speak for her, and tell you to get your rear in gear already!"
Buffy lends Faith a hand, straightening the bedspread and giving Mr. Gordo a place of honor among the pillows. "Wasn't this supposed to be for Dawn?"
Faith looks up at Buffy, and for the first time Buffy notices the pale scar on Faith's stomach, visible underneath the hem of her belly-baring shirt. It looks old, as if it healed a long time ago. "It was, but that's done with. Like you said-- that clock's ticked down. But you have to keep on going anyway."
Buffy groans. "That wasn't in the job description. Don't I get a map, at least?"
"There's no map for you anymore. I think you get a compass, though." Faith gives the bed a last pat, and turns to the window. "You'll do okay. She thinks so, too, even if she won't admit it yet."
Buffy can deal with that. She's surprised, and she's not at all sure she understands it, but she can deal with that. She still wants to know one thing, though.
"So who's gonna be sleeping here, anyway?"
Faith laughs. "Not my place to tell you, B. We just wanted to give you a heads up, let you know things'll work out."
Faith turns, and is out the door before Buffy can stop her. Without getting up, Buffy knows there is no point in following-- Faith is long gone, and she has taken the green desert with her.
When Buffy wakes up, she is smiling.
Archiving: All you gotta do is ask.
Feedback: Always appreciated. Email me at bookwrm456@aol.com
Thanks to the Buffistas for getting me so obsessed in the first place, and to PMM for the title.
Standard disclaimer: Not mine, just playing.
****************
Buffy falls asleep almost instantly, several steps past exhaustion. She's been tired for months, but this feels different from the bone-deep weariness that has plagued her, body and soul, since she came back to the world.
This feels like the tiredness she felt in high school, after some big, world-threatening battle. The battlefield was the inside of her head, this time; the waxy-faced, bug-eyed demon a small challenge compared to giving up sanity, normalcy, and her mom for good.
She's physically and mentally drained, but somehow Buffy knows she will recover. She likes this certainty-- it is a old friend she wasn't sure that she would ever see again.
With it comes another friend who's been missing since her swan dive. Buffy dreams her old confusing dreams, for the first time since she came back. She's seen the heaven she left in her sleep almost every night, but this is a dream like she used to have, nonsensical and frustrating with a glimmer of something not of her own subconscious.
In her dream, Buffy lies awake in bed. Her room is dark at first, but someone pulls up the blinds and floods the room with sunlight. Buffy squints her eyes shut and pulls the covers over her head-- the brightness stings. Slayers are nocturnal creatures, her mind tells her.
A voice makes it through the blankets, gently chiding. "C'mon, B. This place is a mess-- we're nowhere near ready."
Buffy is suddenly standing, fully dressed, at the side of the bed; the transition from almost-asleep to frowning at Faith has been neatly skipped over.
"I though we were done with this. The countdown's counted, and I really need my beauty sleep." She sits down on the bed--or tries to, at least. The room shifts, and she finds herself landing on a chair across the room. "And stop playing games!"
"Don't be such a baby." Faith grins at her. "Christ, B, you look like-- excuse the language-- death warmed over."
Now Buffy feels a little sheepish. "I know I don't look my best. But weirdly enough, I feel better than I have in ages."
"That's why I'm here." Faith smiles her Cheshire-cat smile again. She starts tossing pillows to the floor and straightening the blankets.
"Did you bring a friend?" Buffy stands and walks to the window. Outside, she sees the harsh sunlight of the First's desert, but something's changed. It looks like... springtime. "She can't be happy about all this."
"She's not, but she'll adjust. She always does. That's why she sent me-- to speak for her, and tell you to get your rear in gear already!"
Buffy lends Faith a hand, straightening the bedspread and giving Mr. Gordo a place of honor among the pillows. "Wasn't this supposed to be for Dawn?"
Faith looks up at Buffy, and for the first time Buffy notices the pale scar on Faith's stomach, visible underneath the hem of her belly-baring shirt. It looks old, as if it healed a long time ago. "It was, but that's done with. Like you said-- that clock's ticked down. But you have to keep on going anyway."
Buffy groans. "That wasn't in the job description. Don't I get a map, at least?"
"There's no map for you anymore. I think you get a compass, though." Faith gives the bed a last pat, and turns to the window. "You'll do okay. She thinks so, too, even if she won't admit it yet."
Buffy can deal with that. She's surprised, and she's not at all sure she understands it, but she can deal with that. She still wants to know one thing, though.
"So who's gonna be sleeping here, anyway?"
Faith laughs. "Not my place to tell you, B. We just wanted to give you a heads up, let you know things'll work out."
Faith turns, and is out the door before Buffy can stop her. Without getting up, Buffy knows there is no point in following-- Faith is long gone, and she has taken the green desert with her.
When Buffy wakes up, she is smiling.
