Just Human; Chapter 5: ARE YOU STILL MY FRIEND?

Buffy felt like crap the next morning - physically. She had cried until well
after midnight and then fell asleep right on the living room floor, where
she'd found herself in the morning. Her hair was standing up all in
different directions so that she had to wash it again. It was just as well.
After the neglect of the last six months it could use another styling.

But she felt better than she had in a long time too - mentally. Yesterday after
she'd cleaned her apartment she had thought she felt good, but today after
all her misery, grief and guilt had broken through, initiated by Angel's
visit, she felt somehow lighter. She hadn't allowed herself to cry in a long
time, and now she realized how wrong this was.

In fear of breaking down the moment she let her emotions surface she had
drowned them in alcohol. Feeling numb had been better than feeling pain. And
she felt that pain last night. It had been pouring out of her with each
tear, with every sob and that adding to the exhaustion she'd already been
feeling from all the cleaning and washing had let her fall into a dreamless
sleep. For the first time since Riley died there had been no nightmares.

She stepped from the shower, again wrapped in fluffy towel and bathrobe, and
her eyes darted to the still untouched bottle of liquor on the table. She
still hadn't touched it. Two and a half days and she hadn't touched it. She
licked her dry lips, trying to find a taste for it. And failed.

She didn't even try to stop the gasp that came from her lips. It was like a
lightening shock. A good shock, but still a shock. Two and a half days and
she still had absolutely no urge to drink. She shook her head in disbelief.
She was hungry though, and thanks to Angel and the emotional turmoil his
visit brought she'd completely forgotten about food.

Pulling the towel from her hair she walked back into the bathroom to comb
and dry it. She headed to the bedroom to search through her drawers and
closets for clothes only to realize that nothing fit anymore. She'd grown so
thin that even the trousers that had been bought to fit tight only eight
months ago were hanging loosely. Oh well, it had to do since there was
nothing else she could wear. To prevent the pants from slipping down she
used a leather belt she found in Joyce's room. Wasn't the baggy look
fashionable anyway?

She even found her purse after a quick search and stuffing her keys into her
pocket she left the house, and smiled at the California morning sun. She had
really missed it and also remembered the shocking lack of tan on her face
this morning. She had decided to see Willow - and talk to her, maybe even to
her children. It was Saturday and they would be at home. Well, Joyce and Ben
would. Marlie was probably still in the hospital.

At the thought of her youngest child, Buffy experienced a sharp pang of
guilt. The picture of Marlie lying alone and frightened in a hospital bed
hadn't let go ever since Willow had told her about it. Buffy took a deep
breath. It was something she couldn't change. She couldn't turn back time
and change the fact that she'd been a horrible mother to her child. All she
could do was try to make up for it.

Reaching Willow's house she took a deep breath to steady herself, but her
fingers were still trembling as she reached for the bell. She heard loud
footsteps running towards the door and then she was looking into her
daughter's smiling face.

"Hi, Joyce."

The moment the girl realized it was her mother standing in front of her, her
smile was replaced by a sarcastic smirk, "Mom?" she raised a questioning
brow while her eyes ran inquiringly over her mother's form, "What happened?
Did you run out of money for booze?"

Buffy swallowed an angry retort. She would accomplish nothing by shouting at
her daughter. Joyce was angry, and up to a certain extent she even had a
right to be. So Buffy's voice was calm when she said, "I'd like to come in
to talk to Willow and Tara if that's possible."

Joyce shrugged, "Sure. It's not *my* home," she said emphasizing the word
my. "But Tara left an hour ago with the brats, so it's just Willow and me."

"Joyce, who are you talking to?" came Willow's voice from the inside.

The girl sighed, "Well, come in then." She stepped back and her mother moved
past her towards the living room.

Buffy saw Willow's eyes widen at the sight of her, "Buffy?" the redhead
asked in utter shock.

"Hi, Will," the blond replied with a sheepish smile.

"If you need me, I'm in my room," Joyce said from behind them and was
already running up the stairs.

The redhead wanted to call her back, but Buffy held up a hand, "No, let her
go. She's angry right now and I suppose it's partly my fault. I
came to talk to you, anyway."

Willow eyed her friend a long moment, and then raised a brow, "So?"

The blond laughed self-consciously, then combed a hand through her hair,
"Well, I guess the best start would be to say I'm sorry although that
doesn't begin to cover it. But maybe it's a start?" she asked, anxiously
waiting for Willow's reaction.

The redhead bit her lower lip as if considering her words, and then nodded,
"Alright. Go on."

"I know I... behaved terribly the last months, but..." she stopped, shook
her head, then started again, "No, there are no buts, no excuses. I behaved
terribly. Period."

"I couldn't agree more," Willow said dryly and crossed her arms. "But why
are you telling me that, Buffy? Is there a point to all your...
self-knowledge?"

Now it was for Buffy to chew her lower lip, "Angel came to see me
yesterday."

"Oh," the redhead raised her second brow. "I see."

"No, you don't," the ex-slayer replied, then shook her head, "or maybe you
do. I don't know. He said he talked to you in the morning."

Willow nodded, "He called. I met Cordelia a few days ago. We were talking
and she mentioned Angel. They've been in Washington the last ten years," she
laughed suddenly, "she's married to Wesley, can you imagine?" Buffy had to
shake her head and laugh as well. But the redhead sobered instantly, "I told
her to give Angel my love, but his phone call yesterday took me by surprise.
I hoped he would call, but I hadn't expected it so soon."

"It took me by surprise as well, believe me." Buffy shook her head again and
frowned. "Willow do you believe in ghosts?" she asked suddenly.

At that the redhead grinned, "You're talking to a witch. I think that's a
rather unnecessary question. Besides, you were a slayer. Of course I believe
in ghosts. They are real. Most people just deny their existence. Why?"

The blond took a deep breath, "Maybe I should start at the beginning. I got
drunk on my birthday," she started and when she saw Willow raise a brow she
sighed, "yeah, I know. Nothing new there. But then I... uh... saw my
mother's ghost."

Willow did a double take, "You what?"

"Uh-huh," Buffy nodded on another sigh, "That's exactly what I thought. And,
of course, that I was so drunk that I just saw a hallucination. We talked.
The ghost and I. The next morning I forgot about it. My mother... the
ghost... she attacked me, not physically, but she accused me of letting go,
of giving up. Anyway. In the morning it was forgotten.

"Then Spike came for his monthly cup of coffee. I was already half drunk
when he arrived and he shouted at me too. When he left I drank even more and
woke in the morning with a killer-headache. Then you came."

"And shouted at you," Willow said with a half-grin, slowly understanding
where this was going.

"Yeah, and shouted at me," Buffy agreed, "But the difference was, I was
sober when you came. And I felt bad. For a moment I felt bad because of
Marlie, but I turned around and there was that self-pity again, that life
was unfair, you know. And then my mother... her ghost... returned."

"You saw her twice?" the redhead asked, curiosity rising in her.

"Yeah," the blond confirmed, "And she told me some things I didn't want to
hear. At first I tried to ignore her, but that didn't work. So I listened. I
think for the first time in six months - or rather in years - I listened to
things I didn't want to hear. Didn't want to face. And then I went into
action, I cleaned the house, I washed all my clothes, I washed me-"

"I noticed that," Willow interrupted with a grin. "You smell a whole lot
better now. But you have to gain some weight."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "I had to look in Joyce's room for a belt, mine were
all too long," she admitted on a little laugh, that almost turned into a sob
out of relief. God, maybe she was able to live again. Maybe she would be
able to conquer all her fear and guilt. Maybe... "Anyway," she took a deep
breath, "I had just ordered a pizza and was about to eat it when Angel
suddenly stood on my doorstep. But that wasn't all. He didn't just stand
there. He... he's human, Will."

The witch did another double take, "He's what? Oh my God."

"Exactly my reaction. And - oh God, Willow, it was horrible. He... I
couldn't face him. I couldn't even look into his eyes. All the shame I felt,
all the guilt, it overwhelmed me. I threw him out."

"You threw him out?"

"Yeah," Buffy confirmed with a single nod. "I couldn't face him. When I saw
him there, standing in the sunlight, I couldn't stand it. He left and I
broke down. I bawled my soul out almost all through the night. But I feel
better now. Not well, you know, but better. And," she added with pride, "I
didn't drink for two whole days."

"That's great," Willow said enthusiastically and Buffy had to smile. Trust
Willow to push your self-esteem. "And he just left? Just like that?"

"No, not really," the blond admitted, "he left his card. He said I should
call him, that he wanted to meet the kids and... that if I didn't call him,
he would be back. You should've heard his voice. He meant it Willow."

"Well, good for him," the redhead said with a nod.

"Willow!" Buffy stared at her friend in confusion.

"Yeah, well," her friend, replied, "It was time that someone forced you to
face reality. And I don't care if it is your mother's ghost or a human
Angel..." she stopped and seemed to consider it, "A human Angel," she mused,
"I always wondered how he would look in the sunlight."

"He looks great," the blond said, and then grinned sheepishly at her friend.
When Willow grinned at well, Buffy let out a little laugh, "He really does,
you know. He doesn't look a day older and... God, he's so handsome. I'm
forty years old, and he doesn't look a day older than twenty-six."

A little knowing smile appeared on Willow's lips and Buffy held up her hand,
"Don't even go there, Willow. I know what you're thinking."

"Thinking?" the witch's face was all innocence, "What would I be thinking?
I'm thinking nothing. Absolutely nothing. So he's still handsome, huh?"

Buffy gave her the evil eye, but let it go, "Yes, he's still handsome. But
that's *so* not the point. The point is that I'm finally seeing what I was
doing to myself and that I'm going to try to... make amends, I suppose."

"Oh, Buffy", Willow said, half-laughing, half-crying, she stood up and was
about to embrace her friend.

But the blond held out a hand, "No, don't. It's been only two days. No need
to celebrate yet. Let's wait a little bit longer. But I would like to see
Marlie, Willow. How is she? Is she all right? Would you come with me?"

The redhead's smile was warm and she hooked her arm under Buffy's, "Of
course I'm going with you. Marlie will be thrilled. She's doing great. She's
a tough little girl. So no worries. But first of all I'm going to get you
something to eat. You're so thin, a breeze would blow you away."

The two women laughed and made their way to Willow's kitchen, unaware of the
fact that a seventeen-year-old girl had heard every word of their
conversation.

... to be continued