Tried to Make Me Go to Rehab

Author: Myinnerme

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox.

Spoilers: Post Season Seven "Chosen"

Rating: M – Adult Situations, Language

Summary: Someone needs...help? (F/B sort of)

Authors note: Hats off to Amy Winehouse 'Rehab'. I love that song.

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"Fuck No!"

"But you--"

"No fucking way"

"Please, be reasonable. You need to--"

"NO! NO! NO!" I shout out again for the last time as I jump out of the chair, storm towards the door and slam it. Turning around to scream "NOOOO!!" at it one more time for good measure.

"Who the fuck does Angel think he is?" I mutter heading to the elevator. "Telling me what I need. He doesn't know shit." I press the down button so hard it almost pushes right through the hole.

"Fuck", Fuck this. I've got to get out of here. Spinning around, I make a mad dash for the stairs and out the door. Stopping on the sidewalk to breath in some good old fresh air. Squinting my eyes from the bright glare of the sun. "Yeah, that's what you need some sun. Get your pasty ass a good tan." I turn to glare up at the building. Sending an evil eye to the exact spot where his office his. "But I don't see you out here do I" I know he's watching and listening. I feel his condoling stare from five floors up. He knows I love him. But he also knows he's made me angry. Pissed me off. Brining up shit he knows never to mention. "Fucking Vampire" I send him the finger before turning and heading up the street. I need a drink.

Sitting in a dark secluded corner of this cheesy dive, I throw back my forth JD. I motion for the waitress to bring me another. I want to ask her to bring the whole bottle but that shit is just too expensive in a bar. Maybe I should have gone to a liquor store and take it back to my room. Shit no. I kick that thought out of my head. That'll be just the ammunition Angel needs. And I don't need to give him any more bullets to shoot holes in my life. He already freely shot at the one time slip I made to him, like he's some fucking cowboy. Yeah that's Angel, the Dead Gunslinger. I chuckle to myself. Damn, I crack my self up. But I stop laughing when I remember how old Angel really is. He probably was a dead gunslinger. Shrugging my shoulders, I push that shit out of my mind and look around the bar instead.

This place is lame. Decorated for a dark rustic ambiance but it doesn't quite pull it off. Hey maybe that's why I thought about cowboys and stuff. Ah forget. When I feel my thoughts already starting to wander to the words Angel spoke to me. Shaking my head to clear it, I finish my perusal of the bar. Some sorry excuse for music is playing on an old jukebox. I mean, if you're going for a rustic look why would you have an eighties disco jukebox, equipped with flashing lights and all. Go figure. Anyway, the place isn't crowded just a few stragglers. Each one sitting alone at their table trying to look as if the weight of the world rest on their shoulders.

"Fucking losers" I snort. They don't have a clue. I know what it feels like to have the weight of the world resting on your shoulder and that isn't the look. Doesn't even come close to it. The look they're giving off is may be a pebble, nah a grain of sand. Yeah, that's it a grain of sand is resting on their shoulders. Snickering to myself, I watch the waitress approach with my glass of JD. Well she sure is taking her sweet time to walk towards me. Did she just wink at me? No, no lady. We're never going there. You're not my type. Forcing myself not to scowl, well at least until I get my drink in my hand, I try to keep up my grin.

"What's up sugar?" She says as she sashays right up to my table. I just grin stupidly and shrug a shoulder. Hoping the bitch will understand. If I'm not talking to you I'm not interested.

"You kind of thirsty today, eh sweetie?" Guess she can't take hints. My eyes transfix on my drink. I watch as she lifts my glass of her tray. That's right, just put my drink down first. As the glass rest on the table in front of me, my smile disappears.

"I don't want to be rude or anything but I just want to be alone right now." I say as politely as possible.

"You sure you don't want some company, sweetie." She says in what I can only imagine is a sultry voice to her as she brushes her fingers across my arm. Jerking it back, I swallow once to stop the revulsion that flips my stomach. Alright that's it. I've had enough now. I hate when people touch me and I don't want to be touched.

"Listen lady, I'm not interested. You're not my fucking type okay." I spit out through clenched teeth and give her the steely Slayer eyes.

I watch her furiously blink and take a precautionary step or two back away from me. Fear is written all over her face and in the shaky movements she made.

"Sor…sorry. I didn't mean anything by it." She stammers out.

"Look, just give me my bill." I say as I turn from her. I need to calm down. Grabbing my drink, I gulp down my JD in one go.

A few moments pass and she's still on the side of me struggling to steady her trembling fingers to write up my tab. I feel myself getting annoyed all over again. I need to get the fuck out of here. I reach in my pocket and pull out a crisp one hundred dollar bill.

"Does this cover it?" I lookup and ask. Knowing it should more than cover even a whole bottle. She nods. Keeping her head low, I guess she's still afraid to meet my eyes.

"Good" I say. Throwing the money on the table, I grab my jacket and walk out the bar.

Fuck. The sun is still blaring down all its sunshiny goodness. Fishing around in my jacket pocket because I just remembered I have my sunglasses in it. Placing them on to protect my eyes I wondered why the hell do I have my jacket with me in this blazing heat.

Oh yeah that's why. I haven't been back in my hotel room since early evening yesterday. After a very, very late patrol, where I had to wake up a few vamps in their nest. Who were trying to catch some zzzz believing that early morning was a safe time for them, I mean come on. You're a vampire. I'm a Slayer. There is no safe time for you. Unless of course, you're like Angel with a soul and being a good boy, but even then you piss me off enough I might say 'oops' I tripped and my stake accidentally ended up in your heart. Anyway, I'm sidetracking and babbling again. Why do I always do that? I think there should be an official name for this, Willowbabbliousis or something like that.

As I turn in the direction of the hotel, I remember what I was talking to myself about. That's right. Why was I out so early in the morning, drinking no less, rather than curled up in a nice semi-comfortable bed? Angel. Angel was the answer. I had just come back to the hotel, happy and satisfied from my solo hunt. I didn't want anyone to come with me last night. It just didn't feel right. It only feels good when it's the two of us. I know there are like a billion or so slayers out there now. But it feels as if there are still only two of us in the whole world. The Chosen Two. Me and… Pausing in my steps I shake my head. Definitely don't want to go down that road. I focus back on Angel instead because that's where he was trying to force me also. I had just burst through the foyer doors, heading to the elevators when he slings out from a dark corner. I should have known something was up when he couldn't really look me in the eyes and his did a little twitch every now and then. Which only happens when he is really, really nervous about something and that is very rare for Mr. Broody. I've only ever seen that look twice in my life. So I particularly let him drag my ass up to his office, with his pleading looks of wanting to discuss something very important.

And that's where he unloads the world's biggest amount of bullshit I've ever heard. Telling me how he is concerned about me. How everyone is concerned about me. That he's been spying on the aggressive way I have been patrolling and slaying. I tell him, come on Angel I'm a slayer. That's what I do. Knowing he could never win with that angle he tries another approach, saying I've started swearing and drinking more and more. I don't touch the swearing because what the fuck can I say to that it's the truth. But he won't win with the drinking argument. Slayer metabolism Angel, I mockingly raise my eyebrows at him. Alcohol goes through me like water. Sure I've been knocking back a few more that usual for me but still that's why I came here, to unwind. Get away from it all. Feeling all smug that I had won this discussion over in my favor, I had no defense up against the curve ball Angel threw next.

It was then I learnt, never underestimate how big Angel's balls really are. Especially when his back is pressed against the wall and he feels desperate. Sighing deeply, he looked at me and said that he had spoken to Giles and he agrees that maybe I need to talk to someone. I laughed sarcastically and told him isn't that what we're doing now. He shakes is head like he's all disappointed in me. No, he didn't mean him. He meant someone professionally. How they've arranged everything. Now that shit sent my blood boiling. But the last straw that not only broke the camels back but pulverized his sorry ass was when Angel mentioned it would help me deal with her. Get it out in the open. Come to terms with my feelings. And that's where I erupted. They wanted to send me to see some shrink. To talk about her, like I'm some junkie that needs to go to rehab to come to grips with their addiction and turn their life around.

"No fucking way" I say out loud again and get strange looks like, 'look at the looney-toon talking to herself', from passersby on the street. Fighting the urge to make monkey faces at them, I ignore them and return to my inner monologue.

Angel knew he had pushed too far, when he saw the look on my face just before I stormed out of his office. He knew I'd never meant to share any of that stuff with him or anyone else.

I had just arrived at the hotel a few hours before. Pushed into coming to LA for a much needed break. We were catching up on things in his office. I hadn't seen him in almost two years. The last time was when we stayed with him after Sunnydale took the big plunge. I had spoken to him a few times on the phone but nothing major. I forgot how easy it was to talk to him. And when he took and held my hand and asked "Now how are you really doing?" His eyes all filled with concern and love. That's when I lost it. I was hurting so much inside for so long. Never letting anyone in, no matter how hard they tried. I cried on his shoulders like a baby. I told him everything I was feeling inside. How I was in love with her. How I have always been in love with her from we first met and couldn't handle it because it was so consuming. I confessed that even though we are finally friends now, everyday I yearned for her. How I would watch her all the time, when she didn't know I was looking. I loved her smile. I loved her corny jokes. I loved the way she flicks her hair just before she gets ready to tell you something serious. And oh god do I love her body. But I didn't tell Angel that part. I simply told him I loved everything about her. That when she wasn't with me I felt apart of me was missing. In essence, I needed her like the next breath I took. I don't know how Angel was able to take hearing me blubber on like that. It's not that meant to disregard his feelings or bring up an uncomfortable situation. But he asked and I cracked. So we just had to deal from there. Angel being Angel let me finished wailing and soaking up his shirt with my tears. Then gently lifted me in his arms and carried me back to my room and put me to bed. I don't remember anything after that because I passed out with sleep. I guess finally releasing all of that pent-up emotional stuff really wears you out. See if the bad guys were smart, rather than charge at you with a knife they could simply hold out comforting arms and let you talk yourself into exhaustion then slit your throat while you slept on their lap. But I guess that why their bad. Not too bright in the knocker. I stop myself before I'm attacked with another episode of Willowbabbliousis again and stare at the hotel front doors.

I know Angel is aware of me standing here. But he knows I'm not for another round of talks. I'm really tired and kind of cranky. Sighing deeply, I push open the doors and thank heavens no one is around. I don't see Cordy or Wes or anyone else from the team. Rushing to the elevator, because I'm really not in the mood to climb six flights of stairs, I push the button, gently this time. Tapping my foot, I keep scanning the area looking for talkative hostiles. After what seems like forever the door opens. Peaking inside, just to make sure no one is hiding inside trying to trap me in a heart to heart conversation. Seeing no one, I rush in and press the number five button a few times. Just to make sure the elevator understands I would like to arrive quicker than usual without any delays. Finally, getting out of the stubborn elevator which totally ignored my request, I fish in my pants pocket for the key to my room. Quickly but cautiously, I make with slayer speed to reach my room. I know Angel. He can be a sneaky bastard sometimes. Likes to lure you into to false sense of security then prance on you when you least suspect it. Fumbling a few times with the knob I finally make it into my room and lock the door.

Not quite safe yet. I dash around my room checking the closet, the bathroom and even under the bed for him. Like I said I'm not taking any chances. Realizing that he's going to give me my space for now, I strip down out of my clothes and flop on the bed and breathe a sigh of relief.

You would think not sleeping for more than twenty four hours would have me like Goldilocks in baby bear's bed. But no such luck, I'm wide awake. That's what I get for thinking about her again. She always does this to me. The best sleep I ever remember having in my entire life was the night I slept with her. Not literally as in the have sex kind on way, but if she had even hinted about us having sex. I would have ripped the clothes of her body where she stood and worshiped every inch of her. All night and all day long, probably the next night too. We have slayer stamina you know. And even without it, I think I could still pull it off. When you have this much repressed sexual tension and you want someone as much as I want her you would make it happen. See, the last time I had sex was about a year ago. No one really knows this. I still causally date plenty of guys but I don't let them touch me. If things start to look like its heading down that road I make like the Terminator and say "Hasta la Vista Baby". I figured it didn't make sense anymore. All I craved was her touch, her lips, her body. The last person I had been with really got the shitty end of the stick when I cried out her name as I came. He was giving me head at the time. I'd even forgotten he was there. The minute he went between my legs he was substituted. Needless, to say that wasn't a pretty sight when I tried to explain that one. Eventually, I gave up and left his apartment. Suffice it to say, that's how I spent my one and only night with her. She'd found me crying in my room after coming in from patrol.

I had finally sat down and was honest with myself. See, it wasn't the first time I had cried out her name at the pinnacle of my few sexual encounters in the months prior and I was sure it wouldn't be the last if I continued. Despite myself, when the chips was down or should I say when I was naked and exposed, my body knew exactly who it wanted and it would never let me forget it. No matter how much I fooled myself that I didn't mind just being only friends with her. After that little reality check, I cried my eyes out because of two things. One, I only wanted to have sex with her. And two, I may never have sex again because I only wanted to have sex with her. When she came into my room and asked if I was okay. I couldn't get a word out amongst the tears and the snot draining out of my nose. How do you tell the object of your desire, they are the object of your desire when they'll never see you like that way. And they were presently looking at you with snot dripping out your nose. Gross. But she never asked or said another word again that night. Even though she had never seen be broken like this before. Never seen me vulnerable, I was always the strong one. She just took of her shoes and crawled into bed with me and held me close to her. All night her hands stroked my back. I wanted to purr like a kitten. Just before I drifted asleep was when she tilted my head up to hers and stared me deeply in the eyes. I swear she must have seen straight to my soul. Her eyes held so much love in them I thought I could look into them forever. Then she kissed me softly on my cheeks. I even moaned a little when I felt her soft lips and the heat from her breath. I think she ignored it because she drew back slowly with her eyes closed and just cradled me again in her arms and continued stroking my back until I fell asleep.

When I finally opened my eyes the next afternoon she was already gone. I replayed that moment in my mind over and over again until my stomach finally said enough of that shit, we need food. Thinking maybe I finally stood a chance with her. I mean I saw the look in her eyes. I knew she loved me. All my hopes were smashed with a big fucking anvil when I saw her later and told her I had broken up with Mr. Noname and she tried to set me on a double date with her new boyfriend to cheer me up. Fuck that. There's no way in hell, I was spending the night with some guy pawing all over her when I wanted to be the guy well you know what I mean. I wanted to be the one pawing all over her. So I backed out of that shit. But then after our night together, I had to endure months of her treating me like her new found bestfriend. Although Mr. Pawy didn't last too long, I had to sit through at least a few more jokers just like him. Granted, she was spending most of her time with me and I loved it. It still wasn't easy. I loved that she was talking and we were sharing things together but I wanted so much more. And it was getting harder and harder not to slam her up against a wall or wherever the fuck we were, I really didn't care, and devour her lips. Sometimes when she would be talking, I found myself in a daze just watching her lips move. Thinking of all the things I could do to it and all the things she could do to me with it. Shit, I'm getting horny just thinking of it. Anyway, it would take her calling my name for a really long time or what she has recently picked up the habit of doing, that's really annoying, was hit me on the shoulders. I mean what the fucks up with that. She forgets sometimes that she is a Slayer and mystical or not I'm still flesh and bones.

So like I said, for the last couple of months we were doing our girly thing. Everyone was happy we were finally getting along. We had buried the hatched on our little angst period. But the happier she and everyone else was getting about our friendship, the more miserable I became. This was not the way I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Yes I want to spend the rest of my life with her. Who would have thought I wanted forever. There was a time I didn't plan my life for anything beyond what I could see and especially not with someone like her. But what could I say I love and she changed me.

After the big bang that was Sunnydale, we had all moved to Cleveland, because they had a hellmouth there. I'd say more like a helltooth than hellmouth. Compared to Sunnydale this was child's play. With all those Slayers and a big mojo witch on our side we had that thing closed in a no time, which was great news for the rest of us. Who were tired after all these years of fighting the big fights of good versus evil. We decided to take up permanent residence there for a while. Giles had purchased an enormous mansion. We each had our own bedroom. Really huge bedrooms with private bathrooms that looked more like apartments. We all kicked backed, worked a little on tracking and training the new slayers. Did some minor slaying nothing major, because it's just in you blood to do. But what we all did was just hung out together. I think we were all a little surprised how comfortable we were with each other. We started fresh. Gave each other a clean slate and a chance and it really paid off. That is until I started to freak out a few weeks ago. I had everyone getting a little nervous wondering if I was going over the edge. Fuck. Let them go slaying and not have sex as long as I have and see everyday the only person in the world you wanted to do the nasty with and couldn't touch and see how sane they'll be.

Huffing, I turn over and look through the crack in the curtains. Shit it's already night fall. How long have I been rumbling on? I'm hungry but I know if I leave back out that door Angel will be waiting for me. I spring out of bed and make a slayer dash to my carryon bag when I remembered I had stashed a chocolate bar before my flight. I didn't take the private jet here because Giles hates it when we hop in it to zip around the place. And I think I had already worn on his last nerve just before this trip, hence the forced suggestion to take it. So I caught a commercial flight. He can be so English when he is ready. Laughing out loud, I hold up my spoils like the torch at an Olympic game and do a little dance. "Suckers" I know if anyone of them could see me now, they'd have my ass committed so fast my head would spin.

Resting up against the headboard I eat my Oh Henry, like it's a piece of Grade A steak. I take my time with it. Savoring and moaning with every bite. I know it won't completely satisfy the hunger but the alternative is definitely a no, no. When it's all done, I chuck the wrapper on the nightstand and lay back down to go to sleep. I really should brush my teeth before I go sleep. Nah fuck it. I'm on vacation. And if my teeth are that fragile they can't survive one night without brushing then they need to pack their shit up and get out of my mouth. Mmm, would she love me toothless? See how everything always comes back to her. I know I'll love her toothless. I'll love her anyway I can get her. Sighing, I sink into the pillow and close my eyes.

Two hours later, I'm still staring at a small beam of light on the chair arm that's coming in through the slit in the curtain from the moon. I'm restless and I can't sleep for two reasons. Firstly, being a slayer my body is reacting to the call of the night. It wants to get up and hunt but I'm no fool. A sleepy slayer equals a dead slayer. One false move. One little distraction because I tried to count another wooly sheep hopping over the fence and I'll be dead. So I ignore my body's natural urges to slay. Secondly, I have to ignore my body's natural urges again. This time it's for her. Everything in me misses her. See when I came, uhm was forced, on vacation a week ago. I decided to go cold turkey. I haven't talked to her since I left. I turned off my cell phone and I delete all her voice messages so I don't hear her voice. Hey, if it was an emergency Angel would have told me by now because I know she's spoken to him a few times since I've been here. And since our talk he knows I can't handle talking to her right now so he always tells her I'm out partying or slaying. Having a great time. Nothing like the truth. That I mope around all day and sleep then when night comes I kill anything evil I can get my hands. He's a good friend like that. Never thought we would have been so close after all that drama that was Sunnydale. Anyway, so right now I'm craving her, like I'm craving slaying. The Chosen Two. One day I really have to build up the courage to ask Giles his opinion on this connection we share. About there being two of us when there should have only existed one. Maybe we're just halves trying to make back up a whole. Because I'm pretty sure I'm addicted to her. I want to hear her voice so bad, but I fool heartedly deleted the message she left me yesterday. I wouldn't talk about my need to see her. The only thing I'll say on it is if she were to walk through that door right now, Angel and the rest of them would need air plugs because I'd have her coming harder than she's ever come before and she'll be screaming my name the whole time. Okay this isn't helping.

Well, that shower was a waste of time. I even played with myself a little in there but it's never the same. Sure it feels good imagining her hands all over me but I need the real thing. And that's the crust of why I have everyone on edge. I've been moody, broody and every other oody out there. I can't not love her. Believe me I've tried. And I can't have her. Well I've never really tried to get her before. I don't think I can take it if she rejects me. I can't bare the thought of losing her or her friendship. Then what if everyone else finds out. They'll feel all sorry and shit for me and look at me like I'm some pitiful freak. And I'm no fucking freak. I punch the pillow and reposition it. You see why I've never tried to tell her before. Even when I'm talking to myself about it I get too worked up. I don't know if I'll ever have the balls to talk face to face about it.

Maybe Angel is right. Maybe I need to talk to some one about her. Maybe I need to go to rehab or something. Work all this shit out. Nah fuck it. Closing my eyes already feeling the pull of sleep, where I know I'll dream about her as always I mumble "The only thing I need is Faith."