Been Awhile. Decided to continue.

Dear Diary,

I haven't seen my mother in ten years. I was allowed to see her once, a long time ago, but then, after that, I couldn't go anymore. Neither could Dad. She couldn't have visitors anymore because she was "unstable". But they're the ones who did that to her. They make her swallow handfuls of pills day and night and then call her "unstable". But her sentence is finished now. No, sorry. Not finished. A good friend, someone named Angel, ironically I think, is getting her out. I think he's a lawyer, or works for a firm or something. All I know is he has power to get a murderer out of jail early. She killed someone once. It was a long time ago though and I don't think it really matters anymore. She's coming home today.

&&&&&

There's this… hole, a void where there should be something. Quiet when there should be sarcastic jokes, playful innuendo and banter. Or, no there's something there. She's in there, she is there, but there was something in the way. Something was stopping her from completely resurfacing, because God, Buffy wasn't even this bad when she was resurrected.

This feels old. Me, taking care of Faith. Like bringing her back home after a long night at the Bronze. We've always taken care of each other. Not just me on her. Strangely, it's never been like that. She's always backboned the both of us.

It's like an hour drive, Stockton back to Sunnydale. And, I know she's still sedated, or… relaxed, or whatever the hell they did to her, but I still expected more. She's said like… one word. Hey. When we first saw each other today I hugged her, I cried, I kissed her and she stood still. Her eyes were just pockets, just holes in her head and nothing seemed to see out of them. I lead her by the hand, I smiled into her neck, and only when we had gotten into the car and were halfway down I-45 did she mumble towards my direction, "Hey."

She looks the same, I knew she would. Still tall, thinner now than usual though, still beautiful, but everything she does seems decided for her. She just sat in the passenger's seat, staring out the windshield, and I didn't know what to say.

Lena's going to be disappointed. That much I know already. I think the inner 'six-year old missing her mother' has emerged in her a lot more than usual lately. She probably expected to meet someone completely new today. She would be waiting at home on the couch for this hero to step through the door and back into her life and be the girl I've always told stories about.

Gosh I don't want to see her face when Faith comes home. I don't want to look into her eyes, I don't want to see her bet let down once again. I don't think I could handle it.

We've been sitting in the idle car for a few minutes. I've been trying to explain the basic, most general things about Lena. Age, favourite foods, biggest fears in life, and the like. None of this is really necessary. I just want her to say something, to look alive. She nods every few words, and then there's silence again.

"Maybe we should … save seeing Lena for later. You look… tired." She turns her head to look at me and expression slowly takes over. It's weak, but clearly states just how tired she is, and how much she agrees with me. I nod back to her, remove my keys from the ignition, and step out of the car. Faith follows suit, standing in one spot before I approach her again and lead her towards the front door.

The bedroom is close by and without stopping I direct her to it. With my intentions in her head, she wordlessly takes a seat on the edge and for the first time looks straight up into my eyes. I smile, bend down, and went about to slipping off her shoes. Like a child, like she needed to be taken care of, she lie down on her side and strangely, if I remember her insomnia-like sleeping pattern, slipped quickly off to sleep.

I left her alone, turning off the lights and shutting the door. And Lena seemed to be waiting.

A head from the top of the stairs poked down the entry way. She smiled a standard grin, as if nothing of excitement was happening these days, and waited for me to speak. I waited for her, smiling back. "So…." She started—

"She's sleeping." I finished. "Tomorrow. I promise."

….

"Can I just… take a look? I want to see her."