Bonded

Chapter 12

In the next few hours, time seemed to have no meaning for Buffy; every movement she made seemed to be carried out with a slow precision and exact purpose, executed for a very specific reason with a measurable result to be expected. If she could focus on what it was she needed to do, blocking out all else, then she had reason to keep going, to keep drawing breaths…if she stayed busy, she could somehow continue in this dulled state, could keep from thinking, keep from feeling…

Of course, she did not consciously acknowledge this line of thinking to herself; she was entirely too unaware of thinking of anything beyond her task at hand, whether calling a funeral director or simply walking across the room. It was all that Buffy was capable of then… for only be partially shutting herself down could she keep from breaking down completely.

Things got accomplished, though under what time frame, Buffy couldn't have said. The coroner came and brought with them the police; after questioning and examining Joyce's body and the scene, the cops seemed satisfied with Buffy's vague description of Joyce's having slipped and hit her neck on the counter. Their conviction was probably based more upon Buffy's and Giles's obvious shock and their own stupidity and/or inexperience than the convincing evidence presented… seeing as there wasn't' any. And if any found it odd that there would be four chairs in the kitchen, but no table, they didn't mention it.

The coroner removed Joyce's body from the kitchen when the cops had finished up, taking her to the hospital morgue to determine an official cause of death. But even with her mother's body no longer right there in her sight, even though she as of yet was not a suspect, nor was anyone else, Buffy felt no relief… or any other emotion.

When all outsiders had left, expressing their condolences quietly, Buffy had gone upstairs to check on Faith and Dawn. She had found them both to be asleep, if fitfully; eyes swollen and red from tears even when closed, faces tensed and mottled, the two had been clinging to each other in sleep, facing each other and embracing in such a way that they resembled embryos in a womb. Buffy had backed away from them without exchanging expression, returning downstairs to Giles with neither gladness nor more negative emotions at their ability to find an escape in sleep.

Giles did not look up when she entered the living room. He was seated on the armchair, partly bent over, shoulders slumped as he stared down at the floor. Everything about his posture conveyed his defeated mindset. He did not speak for several moments after Buffy had sat on the 

couch, with the careful rigid posture of a posed mannequin. When he did speak, his voice was so dry it was almost brittle.

"How did this happen?"

Buffy didn't waste words with her reply; she didn't so much as sigh. She only looked at him dully and said without any inflection whatsoever, "Glory. She wants the key…she says she'll do anything to get it. And that was her way of showing us how serious she is."

Giles exhaled slowly, his breath shuddering, and though he did not look up at her, Buffy could tell regardless that there were tears welling in his eyes, fighting to spill over.

"Buffy…I'm… I'm sorry," he nearly whispered, and his voice did break then. It was a few more moments before he spoke up again, his voice faltering.

"We…we will have to tell the others, of course… to warn them…we have to…"

His voice trailed off, and he just shook his heads, suddenly seeming old, weak…defeated.

"What…what shall we do now?" he murmured, and there was a helplessness to his voice, a note that Buffy had never heard before. It was as if he had slipped into the role of the child, leaving her to be the parent…

"Isn't that supposed to be my question to you?" she asked flatly. "You're the Watcher…I'm the Slayer… but you know what? I'll answer your question for you… because the answer's pretty simple. We kill her. Somehow, some way, we kill her…"

And said like that, feeling the way she felt then, Buffy almost could believe that it was that simple. Just kill her… just find her, and kill her, to make it right. Find her and kill her, and maybe she could take this all back, make it like it all hadn't happened. Find her and kill her, and maybe none of this had happened…

But it had… it HAD, and Buffy knew this even as she thought it. But still…if she couldn't undo this, couldn't make it right… maybe by killing Glory, she would finally feel something. Satisfaction, joy, vicious vengeful glee… anything to show her that she herself was still alive.

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They continued to sit in the living room, Buffy and Giles, for nearly ten minutes after Buffy had proclaimed what seemed the obvious- and only- course of action to her. Giles had not replied to her words, and she had not elaborated, or tried to think them through. She had only sat there, letting her mind empty itself out, as a silence fell around them heavily, echoing its blankness inside her.

Eventually Giles had spoke faintly to her again, asking at last, a good fifteen minutes after she had last gone to check on them, if Faith and Dawn were okay upstairs. Buffy's curt nod had been her only reply. Another few minutes went by and Giles tried again, seeming to feel that he should be talking, should be doing something pro-active, if only to keep from shutting down.

"Buffy…it's early, I know… but perhaps, perhaps we should tell the others… they…they'll need to know. To…to be warned…"

And so before the sun had even come up, one by one Buffy had awakened her friends from the peaceful innocence of their sleep, shattering their day before day had even begun. Giles had offered to do it for her, but Buffy had told him that she wanted to. It was just another task to her, one more thing that she could put her focus to… it didn't hurt her now, as it would hurt Giles. Nothing hurt her now… even physically, her senses were dulled.

She had not beat around the bush with her calls, but simply jumped straight to it, reciting what had happened with no inflection. As she listened to their gasps of shock and horror, their shrill verbal denials, their rage and their tears, Buffy could not relate to them and their instant intense feeling, their emotion. She could only listen, and abruptly inform them that she was hanging up.

It had only taken two phone calls, for Anya had already been at Xander's, and Tara was with Willow in her dorm. Both, despite Buffy's telling them that they didn't have to and weren't needed, had insisted on coming over immediately. And so with those phone calls made, Buffy had sat up again in silence, in the same room as Giles, but somehow very distant from him. She sat and she waited once more for the others to come into her home, unintentionally invading the space she had formed around herself…

Before any of them could arrive, however, Faith came stumbling downstairs, Dawn clinging tightly to her arm. She still seemed partly under the influence of the sleeping pills, judging from her dazed expression and half-closed eyes, but obviously not enough to keep her asleep for any 

longer than she had been. She seemed slightly disoriented, as if Dawn's weight on her arm and side were acting as physical as well as emotional anchors, though Dawn probably was not intending this. Entering the doorway of the living room, the two stood there uncertainly, both faces pulled tight with grief and strain.

"You're supposed to be asleep, Faith," Buffy said dully, but Faith did not respond to this.

"It..did it really… is…" Faith asked hoarsely, and her eyes went slowly between Giles and Buffy, weary, mutely pleading for them to tell her what she wanted to hear. Some part of her was still hoping that it had been a dream, a trick, some morbid fantasy… anything but the cold, cruel reality that it was. But the utter lack of humor on their faces must have registered even in her state of mind, for she gripped Dawn tighter against her, beginning to tremble again slightly but noticeably.

"Yeah," Buffy told her shortly, giving a brief nod as she met Faith's eyes. "Yeah, Faith… it happened."

Faith's eyes closed slowly, and she breathed out in a long, shuddery sigh that was almost a sob. She was still quivering, holding Dawn against her side… but though Buffy saw a tear run down her sister's cheek, Faith did not start to cry again. Maybe she simply couldn't anymore.

"Faith… sit down, child," Giles told her softly, though there was a slight tremble in his voice, and he made no move to stand and help her himself. "Dawn…can you, can you help her…"

But Dawn didn't have to; Faith moved by herself slowly, and Dawn in tow, sat on the same couch as Buffy- but a good distance apart. She did not look over at Buffy, nor did Buffy look over at her… she just sat and stared, her shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. Though she was not crying, was making no sounds at all, her silence now seemed to speak her anguish nearly as loudly as her earlier weeping.

Dawn almost instantly sat with her, situating herself in Faith's lap and wrapping her arms around her waist, closing her eyes tightly as another tear leaked out from each. She too was still shaking slightly, leaning her head against Faith's chest. Faith's arms went around her, but she seemed to be moving automatically, rather than because she really felt and recognized fully that Dawn was there. Dawn did not even glance at Buffy, seemed almost afraid to do so… but this did not bother Buffy as it normally would have. In fact, she didn't even notice…



Anya and Xander arrived a few minutes before Willow and Tara; seeing Xander, Dawn instantly burst into tears again, bolting off of Faith and into his arms. Xander held her for a long while, one hand against the back of her head, and rubbed her narrow back as his eyes welled, almost spilling over. When he released Dawn, sending her back to Faith with a gentle push, he hugged Buffy, then Giles, saying brokenly to them how sorry he was. As Buffy allowed him to embrace her, she was aware of the feel of his hands on her back, his chest against her own, but she could not register anything else…only the physical sensation.

As Xander embraced everyone, Anya had hung back in the doorway, twisting her hands together with awkward anxiety. She didn't approach anyone, and for once, didn't say anything.. she just stood there, biting her lip with confliction flashing in her eyes, for once seeming at a loss as to what to do.

After hugging and apologizing hoarsely to Dawn, Buffy, and Giles, Xander had stood, somewhat slowly turning to Faith. She was still sitting on the couch, staring, though her shaking had mostly stopped other than an occasional shiver. It was clear to anyone who had looked at her that she was in shock, that she had been crying heavily, and Xander appraised her awkwardly, trying to meet her eyes. This wasn't easy, since he was still standing, and Dawn had once more burrowed herself into Faith's lap.

"Faith…Faith, I'm…"

He was interrupted by Willow and Tara bursting through the front door, and the flurry of hugs, tears, and choked apologies started all over again. Dawn jumped up once more to fly out at the older girls, and Xander too turned away, distracted. Soon the girls were renewing the hugs Xander had just given, including him and each other in them as well; Tara headed towards Anya as well, but Anya backed up quickly, a look of panic leaping into her eyes. She was hugging her elbows against herself, deliberately removing herself from all the 'human emotion,' as she put it, even as that same emotion glittered in her eyes.

Willow was crying a little when she hugged Buffy, her voice breaking as she whispered in her ear. By this point it was all Buffy could do to hug people back, however loosely…words were more than she wanted or had the energy to give. All the while that everyone- other than Anya, of course- was trading hugs and fumbling comforting words, Faith continued to sit, unmoving, wordless, barely seeming aware of what was going on around her. No one approached her at first, perhaps not thinking yet to do so… or maybe they just didn't know how they should go about it.



They all went to Dawn, who soaked up their comfort with needy gratitude, to Buffy, who barely accepted it at all, and to Giles, who, though struggling to be stoic, still looked so utterly lost and helpless…but for a while, no one went to Faith.

It was during an uncomfortable silence that had fallen, where the hugging had slowed and both Willow and Dawn had managed to stop their tears, that everyone seemed to notice Faith all at once, to realize that she too was present…if very still and silent. But it was Willow who approached her… a fact that, given their history, was slightly strange. Buffy would have expected Tara or Xander, had she been thinking about it…which, of course, she wasn't.

The redhead left Tara, who was holding Dawn protectively to her side, and slowly went to stand in front of Faith, looking down at her with unusual concern and softness. Her voice was slightly wavering, nose red from her earlier tears, but she spoke to Faith gently, if hesitantly.

"Faith…are you okay, Faith?"

Faith didn't answer her, didn't look up…she only drew in a sharp breath without releasing it. As Willow looked at her, frowning in concern, she looked like she was debating whether to ask her again, to approach her.

Xander, however, came up next to Willow and bent toward Faith, gently laying a hand on her shoulder and trying to meet her eyes.

"Faith?"

That was all he said, the name questioning on his lips… but somehow, the softness of his tone, the concern in his and Willow's eyes, combined with his hand resting on her shoulder, must have been acting as a catalyst, adding up to too much for Faith. Her head ducking away even further, so that her chin touched her chest, her tangled, still-damp hair covering most of her face, she began to cry again, almost silently this time. Nevertheless, her tears were enough to set her shaking again.

In comparison to her earlier weeping, this was nothing… but to the others, who had never seen Faith cry at all before, this was shocking, unsettling…alarming.



Willow's eyes widened, and she looked around in near panic, not knowing what to do, how to react. Xander too seemed at a loss…

If this had been Buffy, the situation would have been simple for them. If it had been Buffy, they would have hugged her tightly, held her and said what they could to comfort her… they would have emphasized with her as much as she would allow them or needed them to, as they had so many times before. But Buffy was standing apart, erect, her face as blank and emotionless as a doll's…

Xander kept his hand on Faith's shoulder, even squeezing it a little, but he didn't say anything…no one did. And so it was Tara who rearranged everyone in her own firm but quiet way, trying to bring people where she thought they most needed to be.

She had been standing holding Dawn to her, and now she brought her gently over to Xander, transferring her into his arms. Taking Buffy by the wrist, she brought her over closer to Willow, who took her hand somewhat distractedly and squeezed it, as much for her own comfort as for Buffy's. Then Tara sat down herself next to Faith, wrapping her arms around her. Without saying a word, she gently guided Faith's head to her shoulder with one hand and held it there, slowly sifting her fingers through her snarled hair. Looking over toward Giles, sitting in the armchair alone and silent for the past few minutes, she attempted a smile at him. If she could have got him to come sit with her and Faith without making a big deal out of it, she probably would have done this as well.

Faith leaned heavily against Tara, eyes closed even as tears continued to seep through them slowly, wearily; the room was silent, highly uncomfortable as all but Giles and Anya maintained physical contact with another. For a few moments, the only noises made were the very soft sound of Faith's crying, the hitching breaths of Dawn against Xander's chest as she struggled not to start again…

And then Anya spoke up from where she had been hanging back in the doorway, her words sudden and shocking in their shrillness as well as meaning.

"Will you all just STOP it!? Can't you just STOP, just CALM DOWN, can't you just, just be quiet and stop being so SERIOUS, so, so… so DEPRESSING?!"

Six pairs of eyes went shooting over in her direction, stunned and scandalized; even Faith looked over at her blearily, lifting her head a little from Tara's shoulder. Even Buffy, in her numb state of being, dimly recognized, even if she couldn't bring herself to care, that Anya was being highly 

insensitive and wrong. The ex-vengeance-demon's eyes were darting about almost frantically, not focusing on any one person, and in fact seemed to be trying deliberately not to do so; her hands were twisting before herself again, and she seemed strangely agitated.

"ANYA," Xander said in shock, his horror and disgust with her obvious in his tone as he continued to hold Dawn to his chest. "You don't SAY things like that, how many times do I have to tell you-"

"What the hell is your problem?!" Willow snapped furiously, turning to her; she was still holding Buffy's hand, squeezing it harder now in her anger. "Mrs. Summers is DEAD, Anya, did you not understand that?! They watched her DIE, they watched Glory KILL her, and all you care about is you and your dislike of noise-"

"Of course I understand that!" Anya shot back, her voice even shriller now, almost a scream. "I know what dead is, Willow! I was a vengeance demon, I killed people every day! I don't even know how many people I've seen die, how many people I caused to die! But that was other people…. That was men, people I didn't know, people who deserved it, people I didn't care about. That wasn't…that was different, THIS is different, this is too much, and I can't take it, I hate it! This is…it's just wrong, everything's wrong! WE'RE not supposed to die…not any of us…but especially not her, especially not Mrs. Summers! She didn't deserve it, she didn't' do anything to deserve it! It's…it's not fair, it's just not right… it's all wrong, everything's all wrong! Everyone's so upset, everyone's wrong, and I don't' like it, I don't understand, nothing's like it's supposed to be! Everyone's supposed to be so strong and know what to do, and you don't, you DON'T! Faith is crying and Giles is just sitting there and Buffy looks like a zombie, and no one is saying what to do, and it's all wrong, it's just WRONG!" Anya finished, her voice cracking badly. She was crying too now, her shoulders hunching in on themselves as tears ran down her face.

Letting out a little sob, she sucked in a deep breath as she went on in a small voice, "It's just wrong, and it hurts… she didn't deserve it. She didn't…"

Once again the room went silent, only the sound of Anya's crying breaking the wordless period. Both Dawn and Faith's tears had stopped; while Dawn was staring at Anya, however, stunned, Faith's eyes were still closed, her face partly hidden against Tara's shoulder. She looked very small and young with Tara's arms around her, even younger, perhaps, than Dawn…

No one said anything to Anya…no one quite knew WHAT to say. Both Willow and Xander's eyes sparkled with unshed tears too, and as Anya drew in a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes angrily, she suddenly looked more human to them all than she ever had before.

"Anya…why don't you come sit down," Giles said finally, surprising them, for it had been some time since he had spoken or displayed more than vague awareness of his surroundings. But now he was looking at his employee with a stir of softness in his gaze…

Sniffing, avoiding everyone's eyes, Anya did as he suggested, sinking down on the couch next to Faith and Tara. Still keeping one arm firmly around Faith, her finger absently moving soothingly across her skin, Tara put her other hand on Anya's arm gently. Though there was grief in her own eyes for Joyce, it was outweighed by her concern for the others. Anya didn't say anything, didn't acknowledge Tara's kindness toward her, but neither did she protest or move away.

As Buffy watched everyone dully, her hand limp and unresponsive in Willow's, her dulled state suddenly vanished, replaced instead by an itchy need, a restlessness, a desire to leave everything and everyone. She needed to leave, she needed…she needed to fight, to feel the adrenaline, the rush of power and strength once more surging through her veins. She needed to feel… she needed to kill.

Standing up abruptly, she disentangled her hand from Willow's, pulling away and turning toward the doorway. Everyone looked over at her, startled and somewhat anxious.

"Buffy? Where are you going?" Willow asked worriedly, starting to trail after her. "Are you okay…do you need…"

"I'm fine," Buffy said shortly, not glancing back at her. "I'm going out."

"Out? But out where- why? Buffy-"

"I'll be back later," Buffy called, but Xander caught up with her, taking her by the shoulders and making her stop and look at him. His dark eyes were showing his concern very clearly, his brow furrowed as he looked into her eyes.

"Buffy…you can't just leave like that, without saying why or where you're going…you, you don't need to be alone right now…"



"Yes, Buffy…" Giles said faintly, looking up at her with a tiredness she didn't often witness in him. "Please… that's, that's not advisable right now… the coroner may call, he may need you…you're needed HERE. Please… it's just not safe right now…"

Buffy turned her gaze slowly in his direction, meeting his eyes… when she answered, her voice was very quiet, but the fierce edge in it made everyone in the room feel momentarily chilled.

"Oh yeah, Giles… well when has it ever been safe for me? When has it ever been safe for any of us? We're all going to die eventually… why even care about something that's inevitable?"

She shrugged Xander's hands off her then, ignoring Dawn' shrill call for her to come back, to not leave her… she even ignored Faith's hoarse, cracking calling of her name. It was the softest voice addressing her that gave her pause, that made her slowly turn to face them one last time… the voice of the girl still holding Faith, attempting to give Buffy's girlfriend the comfort Buffy could not.

"You can't fight her and win, Buffy… not now…"

"Well," Buffy said roughly, lifting her chin defiantly after a moment's pause, "I can damn well try."

And with that she was turning, heading alone out the front door and into the night.