A/N: so... this is mostly centric on the group home. There's a new love triangle...
There's a lot of swearing, so note that this story is rated M. Okay? Good.
I hope this is funny to someone other than me...
"Dawn!" Buffy called, banging on her sister's door. "Giles is already here to take you to school. You need to get ready."
"Just a minute!"
Buffy sighed and walked away.
"How is your training going?" Giles asked when Buffy returned to the kitchen.
"There's a lot of work to being a security guard," Buffy said wearily. "But after I get my license as a trained guard, the hospital can hire me. It reminds me of a self-defense class. In fact, I think they alternate in the same building."
"I hope you continue to be motivated for this job," Giles said. "And remember to be friendly. Likeable security guards end up having a very good tenure."
Buffy tilted her head thoughtfully. "That's why the hospital has such character."
Kennedy came out of the bedroom she shared with Willow, carrying a bottle of chocolate syrup.
"That went missing days ago," Buffy frowned as Kennedy put the bottle back into the fridge. "Why do you have it?"
"I don't know," Kennedy said, barely bothering to feign innocence. "I set it on the nightstand and forgot it was there."
"Why was it in your room in the first place?" Buffy asked. "Oh, wait. Ohhhh god. Take that out of my fridge right now!"
"Relax, it's sanitary," Kennedy assured her. "I licked the syrup off Willow, not the lid or anything like that."
"TMI! Either t-take it back or throw it away," Buffy ordered. Giles looked uncomfortable while Kennedy took the bottle back.
"Guess I have to pay for this now, huh?" Kennedy asked.
"Is there anything else in the house you defiled with your pervyness?" Buffy demanded.
"Who's a perv?" Dawn asked, pulling back her hair. She saw Kennedy holding the chocolate syrup and scrunched her nose. "You guys stole the chocolate syrup? Heh… That's pretty cool."
"I'll go wake up Willow," Kennedy said to excuse herself, tapping her tongue ring against her teeth and heading out.
"STOP THAT!" Buffy yelled after her, shuddering again.
"What's the malfunction, sis?" Dawn asked laughingly. "Yes, they have sex together."
"Guhh… you shouldn't be talking about that kind of stuff."
"Buffy? I'm almost old enough to have sex," Dawn reminded her, searching around for some cereal bars. "You should be grateful if I'm only talking about it."
"Don't remind me," Buffy groaned. "Then we're gonna have to have The Talk."
"Hate to break it to ya, but I already know where babies come from."
"Who told you?!" Buffy demanded, earning giggles from Dawn.
"WHO THE FUCK PUT THIS HERE?!"
Jenny instinctively flinched away from Galen shouting, and then she fled.
"What's wrong, G?" Rachel asked, humor in her voice.
"You," Galen growled. "You put this in here!"
"Yogurt's good for you," Rachel replied, licking her lips.
"YOGURT IS DISGUSTING!"
"What's the trouble?" Mary asked, coming out of the office.
"I played a prank on Galen and he's taking it like D-day," Rachel grumbled.
"SHE DEFILED MY PUDDING!" Galen yelled, slamming the cupboard shut and then banging his head against the door.
"Calm down, Galen-"
"That's MY pudding in MY cupboard! She's not allowed to touch it!"
"All I did was put in a pack of yogurt," Rachel sniffed. "Your precious pudding cups are in the fridge."
"You TOUCHED pudding cups!"
"SO WHAT? I HATE pudding. There! I SAID IT! Are you happy now?!"
"NO! Are you FUCKING INSANE?"
"Yeah, I'm FUCKING INSANE, but at least I don't get a hard-on over my goddamn snacks!"
"You sick fucking bitch!"
Mary blew a whistle sharply, making them both flinch. "That's enough! Both of you knock it off right now or else. Galen, Rachel already said that your snacks are safe. Rachel, switch them back and keep the yogurt the hell out of his cupboard. Both of you, give each other five compliments and make it up right now or Lights Out will be an hour early tonight."
Rachel and Galen stood in heavy silence for a while being Rachel grudgingly spoke.
"I'm… sorry. I guess."
"That's not an apology."
"I'm sorry that Galen's such a freak."
"Can I hit her?"
"If you want to be kicked out," Mary replied sharply.
Rachel let out a strained sigh and managed to grit out, "I'm sorry I switched your pudding for yogurt."
"Sorry that I called you insane."
"Whatever."
"Now compliments," Mary prompted. "Or everyone's going to bed an hour early."
Rachel grit her teeth, knowing they'd be bitched at for a week if they made everyone suffer. "You're smart. I guess."
"You have nice hair," Galen mumbled.
"You have good clothes."
"You're clean."
"You're organized."
"You're witty."
"You're a good… person."
"You play cards well."
"You're pretty cool."
Mary paused, mentally counting the compliments. "Alright. Now both of you have just volunteered yourselves for dishes duty. I don't want to hear any more arguing."
Rachel forced a small smile until Mary went back to the office, then scowled at Galen.
"Asshole."
"Miserable bitch," he muttered quietly, because the office was directly connected to the kitchen. "Get your shit out of my fucking cupboard."
"Yes, master," Rachel snarled under her breath, going to the fridge to retrieve the pudding cups and set them on the counter. "What's your pudding fetish?" Rachel asked as she began to put the yogurt back in the fridge.
"None of your fucking business. Whore."
"I was only asking, assface."
The insult didn't hurt him as much as it jogged a memory, but the memory was too vague and it faded before he could grasp it at all, leaving behind an uneasy feeling.
"It was the only stuff worth eating in the hospital. Butterscotch, cheesecake, fudge, vanilla, tapioca, I like it all. It's safe food."
"Guh. I hate tapioca. That's why I hate pudding, I think. It was the only stuff I ever had."
"Shame. I still wonder what all the little lumps are made of."
"Fish eggs," Rachel replied. "Hey, as long as we agree that I'm a bitch-slut-whore and you're an asshole-fucktard, can we go somewhere a little more private? I need to ask you a question."
"This question better be worth my time, or you can burn in hell and get shafted by demonic goat for the rest of eternity."
"Likewise, cream puff."
"Good morning," Fred said cheerfully as she stepped off the stairs.
"Good morning, Fred," Wesley greeted.
Fred smiled at him. "How're my guys doing this morning?"
"Angel is in a cleaning mood," Wesley said. "Gunn is currently being held hostage. I'm hiding."
"Ah," Fred tried not to smile even more. "Is it dust bunnies, or crusted blood on blades?"
"Both, apparently," Wesley grimaced.
"This is really Cordelia's fault," Fred said heavily, both looking over to Cordelia, who was now glaring at them.
"How is this my fault?"
"You're supposed to have sex with Angel," Fred said. "To keep him from noticing when the swords get a little crusty. To keep him happy. But not too happy!"
"It's not my fault the PTB gave me a mother of all headaches," Cordelia complained. "Really, the headaches are supposed to go away. At least my head hasn't exploded."
"There's coffee and sandwiches," Wesley offered Fred.
"Hm. Sounds tempting," Fred smiled. "And coffee's always good. I'll go get some, to help me wake up."
Cordelia snorted, "Caffeine is the last thing you really need."
"What is it?" Galen asked when they were in a corner of the living room, far away from Eamon and Addison, who were playing poker at the game table.
"I was just wondering, do you think Eamon's a fag or something? And for that matter, are you a fag, too? Not that I care or anything, but I'd like to know for sure."
"I don't need to listen to this crap-"
"Stay here. Do you want him to notice?" Rachel asked, glancing over at Eamon. "If you ask me, you and him have been getting a little cozy."
"Therefore I'm a fag? No one asked you in the first place."
"I'm not stupid, fucktard," Rachel hissed. "Plenty of nights I'll be lying awake and hear his door open and shut and then your door open and shut. I know damn well he's been in your room after hours, so don't even deny it."
"Yes, he's been in my room," Galen said, annoyed. "That doesn't mean anything."
"What are you doing in there?" Rachel asked, a teasing tone in her voice. "Does he kiss you first, or does he skip through all that foreplay crap?"
Galen flushed with embarrassment. "We don't…."
"You don't stop for foreplay?"
"We don't do that stuff," Galen hissed.
"Yeah. Right."
"Why are you lying in bed at night listening anyway?"
"Because a lady needs to get off, too, moron," Rachel retorted. "It sucks balls being in here, and I'm not going to go without. I know you must do the same."
"I don't."
"Lying bastard," Rachel sniffed. "All guys masturbate, unless there's something wrong with you. I was thinking, maybe Eamon was skipping all that and getting his rocks off with you."
"No. He speaks to me…."
"He talks dirty to you?"
"Would you lay off of it? That's not what goes on. We've only talked. I wouldn't even know what to do if he'd want that."
Rachel gave Galen the most sympathetic look she could manage. "Your head injury really fucked you up, didn't it, sweetie? Because there's no way you're a virgin. Of course, logically speaking-" she giggled because logic generally left her out in the cold "-virginity is all in the head. No wonder you're so shy," she ran a hand over his chest, purposefully brushing across his nipple and laughed again when he trembled. "You can sneak into my room anytime, and I'll show you the ropes. I've never been with a virgin before, but I think it'll be really cute. I'd love to see what you're hiding under all these silly clothes."
"I don't want to have sex with you. I hate you."
"So you admit you'd rather fuck Eamon?" Rachel asked, her eyes flashing with equal interest and she laughed at him again when he looked confused. "If nothing else, you need to figure out if you like me, or if you like Eamon. Then you can let me know, because as nice as it would be to have you between my thighs, it's just as hot thinking about you and Eamon getting it on. And I'd want to watch sometime."
Galen thought of all of this happening while maintaining the silence necessary to keep the orderlies from knowing and began to laugh. "You're insane, Rachel."
"Well, at least you could give me the details-"
"No and no," Galen said firmly, walking away. "Leave me alone."
"Can I talk to you, Giles?" Willow asked.
"Yes," Giles said quickly. "Certainly. How did you get here?"
"Kennedy dropped me off," Willow explained. "I was thinking I could catch a ride back, or just walk. It's not that far."
"What brings you to my humble home?"
"I want to help with the Potentials," Willow told him. "I know I've been kind of strict on the magic use, but I can scry for the new slayers far better than an entire coven."
Giles smiled a little, removing his glasses to clean them. "Yes, I have to agree there. What caused the change the heart?"
"I can't stand being a house girlfriend," Willow shuddered. "I need to do something. It'd be different if Dawn was home during the day, but she isn't. Besides, the thought of Andrew leading the slayers makes me want to kill someone."
"I share those feelings," Giles admitted. "Although I haven't had much luck convincing any girls to follow. The Potentials that didn't die left after the last apocalypse, and show no interest in following Buffy's leadership again."
"Of course not. Buffy doesn't want to be a leader and they don't want to die," Willow said, taking a seat on Giles' couch. "The ones that were willing to fight went other places, to slay evil and find new slayers."
"The trouble is, we have no organization," Giles sighed. "I want to put the Council back together again, with new control, but it's quite difficult. Apparently a collection of watchers in England are stealing my thunder."
"Aw," Willow pouted. "Darn thunder-stealers."
"What I'd really like to know is how the spell worked," Giles said. "The one that activated all of the slayers."
"I told you, Giles," Willow frowned. "Kennedy kept me grounded and I used the scythe."
"Yes, but how did it work," Giles continued, moving to the large map hanging on his wall. "There are hundreds of Potentials at any given time, but we don't know exactly how the slayer comes to be. Is being a Potential like being born with a certain gene, or are Potentials also chosen at a certain age? For that matter, is there a certain limit to the number of Potentials that can exist? And where the spell comes in, does this mean that girls can be born slayers, or will they become slayers as opposed to becoming Potential slayers?"
"So many questions," Willow mused, clasping her hands together. "And I don't know any of the answers."
"So the letter A is represented by a single dot in the top left and B is like A with another dot directly below it," Fred explained.
"'Kay."
"And the letter C is like A with another dot beside it," Fred said, letting Galen trace his fingers over the three letters. She had used a blank piece of paper and a sharp pencil to make the ridges. On the paper she'd put the written letters above the Braille form, with small bumps to show that there were eight possible dot locations, and larger bumps where a dot would actually be.
Using the paper meant she did everything backward, but it worked.
Fred watched Galen for a moment, frowning at him. Usually he was very pleased to be learning things, and would smile when she gave him something new to examine with his finger tips.
"What's wrong? You look like you're not listening."
"I'm listening," Galen assured her.
"Spill," Fred said, pushing the paper aside. "Is it the doctors stressing you out?"
"No," Galen fidgeted.
"Well come on, then. You can tell me," Fred encouraged. "I'm your friend now."
"It's Rachel."
"Who's Rachel?"
"Rachel is a girl at my group home," Galen said, resting his head in his hands. "She thinks that I'm gay. Am I gay?"
Fred blinked and then sat up, trying to think of what to say. "Uh…ummm… That's really not even something I can answer. I mean, that's a really personal thing and only you can tell if you're, um, homosexual."
"Okay," Galen said. "How do I tell?"
"Well, sexual desire for men is a dead giveaway," Fred replied nervously.
"Like how?"
Fred decided to remain professional about the matter, scientific.
"Like when a guy engages in sexual activities, his partner is either or a man or a woman, or maybe he imagines being with a man or a woman."
"I don't."
Fred paused. "You don't think of either a man or a woman?"
"No, I don't engage in sexual activity. Is that weird?"
"Well, I… I mean, you do live in a group home, so I can't imagine you'd have the privacy-"
"Rachel told me that all guys masturbate unless there's something wrong with them. But I don't. Maybe there's something wrong with me."
"Maybe you just don't feel the urge to, which is fine. I mean, I can't imagine that all guys always feel the urge to do… stuff."
"But everyone makes it seem like it's the most important thing in the world. But I don't even think about it, and I don't do it. Even when Rachel brought it up, so I obviously had to think about it, I still didn't want to do it. I just don't care at all."
"Maybe you should ask your doctor about this kind of stuff," Fred said uncomfortably.
"So there is something wrong with me."
"That's not what I said! It's just that, given the fact that you're on a lot of medication, it might be possible that this… lack of interest is a side effect."
"You think so?" Galen asked, sounding more hopeful.
"Yeah. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's what it is. Or maybe being blind kind of stalled you, because guys usually check out girls, and you haven't adapted to it yet. I'm going to shut up now, because I can't possibly be helpful anymore. Do you want to continue with the Braille alphabet?"
"Yeah. Sorry I brought this up."
"N-no, it's okay. I mean, if you don't ask, how are you going to know?" Fred shrugged.
"I'm just confused," Galen sighed a little.
"Teenagers are often confused, before they discover themselves," Fred noted. "I'm really surprised, though, that you've somehow lost your sexual identity as well as your memories. Maybe you were ambiguous?"
"I was what?"
"Bisexual. Undetermined, both ways, or simply nonchalant about gender."
"Or I'm asexual."
"Or you reproduce asexually," Fred said, in a strange, teasing way. "And if that's the case, I'd really like to document that, because that's not what humans are designed to do."
"You pickin' on me?"
"Yup. Want to learn the letter D?"
"Yes, please."
"It's almost lights out," Brenda called out. "Time to take medication."
Jenny just about skipped over, somehow always looking like an eager child.
"I think I'm coming down with a cold, Brenda."
"Do you need cough syrup?"
"Is it grape flavored?"
"Cherry," Brenda replied.
"No thank you."
"Here's yours, Jenny," Brenda said, giving Jenny a little plastic cup with her nighttime medication.
"I need water," Jenny said, scurrying to the sink where Rachel was wiping her hands of sink water.
"Let me get yours for you, Galen," Rachel said in a husky voice, picking up two small cups and filling them with enough water to down their medications.
"Thanks," Galen said hesitantly. Of the five residents, Addison and Eamon did not have to take medication. Of course, even Tylenol was monitored by the supervisors, because Rachel and Jenny would be especially prone to abusing any form of pills.
Galen and Rachel were both given their tranquilizers, where Rachel noticed his prescription was very different from hers. Probably because hers was made to control the voices in her head.
Rachel put the pills on her tongue and took a swig of water, swallowing with a faint gulp. The two pills were kept under her tongue.
Galen did about the same trick, except that he couldn't help making a face from the disgusting taste as the pills' casings started to dissolve in his mouth.
Brenda was too busy making sure Jenny swallowed all of her pills, which kept her semi-sane and also sedated her so she could sleep. By the time Jenny finished taking them one-by-one, Rachel was already calling out goodnights and Galen was brushing his teeth so he could spit out the pills along with a mouthful of foamy toothpaste.
I want to remember everything.
The thick haze Galen usually experienced was pitch black now as the lights were all shut off, the front door locked, the office and medicine cabinets completely secured.
For the first time in… forever, he could not fall asleep.
His mind kept racing, about nothing, about everything. He felt like it was the afternoon when the medication used to be weaker, and was wearing off, and he could actually think. It was a breath of crisp air on a hot, muggy day.
The time went by quickly, eleven at night, midnight, one in the morning. He was already sitting up, cross-legged on his bed with spiders crawling through his vision when he heard the familiar creak of a door opening and shutting.
He could barely stop from giggling aloud. This was a little bit worse than the tranquilizers, which made everything slur together.His door opened, as anticipated, and Galen fancied he could hear Eamon's heart beating.
"Hello."
"Hello yourself," Eamon replied, waiting only a moment and then he was on Galen's bed, joining the other man in sitting cross-legged. "Did you skip your meds?"
Galen thought for a moment, but he was too suspicious of Eamon. "No… I chickened out and swallowed them anyway."
"Oh," Eamon sounded very disappointed. The silence was harder when Galen was this awake. "I take it you'll be dozing off soon, then."
"I'm not so sleepy tonight," Galen ventured. "I can talk for a while."
"Alright," Eamon shifted, leaning back on his hands and unfolding his legs, so he was more comfortable.
"Why do you keep coming to see me like this?" Galen asked.
Eamon looked at him for a while, entranced by the other man's eyes, although they could not see him.
"Because your guard's not up," Eamon replied. "You can be yourself. And that includes the glasses. Can't sleep with your shades on, and I like being able to see those beautiful eyes."
"They can't be beautiful," Galen said, feeling confused again. "They're all broken."
"You ever miss it? Being able to see?"
"Every day," Galen replied immediately. "I can't read, I'm not allowed to go anywhere by myself, and I don't even know what I look like."
"You're a very handsome man," Eamon assured him. "If you had to choose, would you rather be able to see, or be able to remember who you are?"
"I don't know. I think I'd rather remember who I am."
They both heard another door open and close. A moment after that, Rachel entered the room.
"What are you doing here?" Eamon demanded, as Rachel climbed, unwelcome, onto Galen's bed.
"Seeing what you're doing here," Rachel replied.
"We were talking," Galen said.
"Yeah," Rachel snickered, "Like little girls at a slumber party."
"You're the one in the PJs," Eamon pointed out. "Why don't you go back to your room?"
"No way," Rachel refused, "I either want to see you two make out, or he's fair game."
"What?"
"She's crazy," Galen reminded Eamon. "Did the voices in your head tell you to do this?"
"I'm not allowed to speak for the voices," Rachel retorted. "Like you're not fucked up, either."
"Is that what you wanted?" Eamon asked Galen. "To make out with me?"
"No," Galen replied nervously. "That was Rachel's fantasy world."
"Then it's settled," Rachel declared. "Galen is mine."
"What do you mean he's yours?" Eamon snapped. "I was here first."
"If anyone should reintroduce our sweet little friend to the world of sex, it should be me," Rachel said. "I am female, after all, and I'm very experienced. He already said he doesn't want to do it with you."
"That's not what I said," Galen paled, not wanting to be owned by Rachel.
"That's not what he said," Eamon repeated.
"So you do want him?" Rachel asked.
"Galen is the only eligible person in this hell hole," Eamon replied. "Jenny has the mind of a hyper-active six year old, Addison is a brat, and you're a slut."
Galen grew even paler. "You're gay?"
"'M not gay, I'm bisexual," Eamon corrected.
"He's also an alcoholic," Rachel reminded Galen. "You want me."
"I'm fine if I lay off the drink," Eamon scowled. "Like you really want a psychotic hussy who's just as likely to shag your best mate."
"It's not about commitment, it's about escaping the pain," Rachel said. "Galen's a bit of a virgin now, so I can be his first with no strings attached. I can teach him a whole new way to use his hands, among other things."
"You're not offering anything I can't dish out," Eamon snorted. "But I won't be so demanding of you, Galen. She doesn't even pronounce that beautiful name correctly."
"Is this what you want, Gaaaay-len?" Rachel pronounced his name properly, dragging out the first syllable mockingly. "You want him over me?"
I don't want either of you, Galen groaned in his mind, feeling a headache coming on."I'm better suited for him," Eamon stated.
"I've got pussy," Rachel said, as though that was all that mattered.
"More like a gaping abyss," Eamon muttered.
Galen sighed and fell backwards, letting his head hit his pillow.
On second thought, he was completely wiped out. Sleep was good.
"I can still pleasure him better," Eamon added. "I can pleasure anyone better. If this is really his metaphorical 'first time' then it should be good for him."
"If you're so good at pleasuring, you'd better prove it," Rachel challenged.
"How would you suggest I go about doing that?"
"Simple," Rachel said. "We'll have an old-school kissing contest. Whoever Gay-len chooses as the best gets to fuck him."
"How would that even work? You might cheat and try to slip your hands into his pants at the same time."
"Then we'll have rules," Rachel decided. "Tongue is completely fine, hands stay above clothes."
"How about above the belt as well?" Eamon suggested.
"Fine," Rachel looked at Galen, her eyes demanding agreement or suggestions, but he was already asleep on his pillow (or at least pretending to sleep).
"Damn," Eamon muttered.
"Should we wake him up?"
Conscious
"No. He took his tranquilizers tonight. He'll only fall asleep again while one of us is kissing him. Let him sleep and we'll try again tomorrow night."
"Make sure he skips his fucking meds tomorrow night," Rachel snapped at Eamon as she got off of the bed and went back to her room.
Eamon glared after her as she left, then watched the other man sleep for a while before he finally retreated as well.
When they were both gone, Galen sighed in relief.
Great, now they both want to kiss me and have me choose. This is gonna suck.
