EIGHT
* * *
In the room and on the bed you sit.
Sit sitting. Your knees drawn up, your arms close. Because there is danger, always danger, and afraid afraid afraid.
The door is opening in waves of not being of its real I don't understand.
Opening.
Watch it. Look at it.
You do.
Him. The little man balding of the good voice. He is there and he smiles at you and there, floating across the room, are his words. Can you see them floating there?
"Hello, Buffy. How are you feeling?"
Can you say something?
No.
More words.
"You have some visitors today, Buffy."
Open door open door door door open.
Them.
The couch, on the couch, looking up lifeless.
Mom?
There, across the room in an instant. And her face is love and good and oh, God I love you I love you Mom.
"Sweetie?"
The smile, tentative, afraid.
I remember. Goodbye, Mom. You said I was strong. I had to go, Mom, don't you see? I had to save them.
Close, sitting on the bed close. Like remember when you were a little girl and she would read you stories before you went to bed?
And Dad, there. Dad, not in Europe away far away with his secretary.
Her voice; your voice, so close that it is like it isn't your own.
"Mommy?"
"Oh, Buffy .... Oh, my God, sweetie ...."
#
She and Balding Good Voice now, in the office. She had the chair and it was stiff and hard to get comfortable because she kept her knees and legs up close. She had to do this, because of the poison. This was part of the poison and she had to find Willow soon.
He watched her. He wasn't sitting behind the desk, but rather on it, facing her. He wasn't a big man and his legs didn't quite reach the floor.
"Do you know who I am, Buffy? Do you remember?"
She nodded.
"Do you remember my name?"
Balding Good Voice.
She shook her head. Tangles of her hair crossed before her vision, shimmering in waves of infinity.
"I'm Dr. Garrett. Do you know where you are?"
Demon poison land.
Her voice came then.
"You aren't real."
He smiled, took his hands and patted at his chest, his thighs, his shoulders.
"I seem real," he said, and he chuckled slightly. "Why don't you think I'm real, Buffy?"
She shook her head. "Demon poison," she said.
"Demon poison?"
She lowered her head, tugged a bit at her hair. "I need the antidote. Need Willow."
"Willow. Your friend, yes? She will bring you this antidote?"
Buffy nodded, looking up at him from under darkened brows.
"Well," Balding Good Voice Dr. Garrett said, "perhaps until Willow comes with the antidote, we can talk."
Buffy eyed him warily.
In the background she heard someone else talking, their voices a cacophony.
Crazy girl crazy girl crazy girl crazy crazy crazy crazy ....
She moaned and covered her ears.
His voice.
"Can you hear me, Buffy?"
"Yes," she whimpered.
"What else do you hear?"
"Make them stop," she moaned. "Make them stop!"
Crazy crazy stupid stupid girl! Hate your mother hate your father hate everyone lie to everyone hate your school hate your friends hate your sister ....
His voice. "Buffy? I'm right here. I'm not going away. You know your mother and father are close by; they're just outside waiting to see you again. They're very excited to see you. You know that, yes?"
She was crying, suddenly, sobbing into her hands.
"I made them go away .... I made them go .... I didn't want to .... Make them stop! Make them stop!"
Then, suddenly, it was quiet in the room.
His voice, gentle, wary.
"Make who stop, Buffy?"
"Them," she answered. "I don't like them."
"Them? Who are they?"
She tugged at her hair, beat against her forehead with her palm. The world was thick with filthy molasses, and it burned inside her eyes.
"Them," she managed. "The voices."
"They talk to you?"
She nodded.
"Do you know them? Do they have names?"
"No."
"They just talk to you."
She nodded again.
"They aren't your friends? They aren't Willow or Xander or Giles?"
"No."
He paused then, and then he spoke. "I will try to make them stop," he said. "But I will need your help if I am going to try. Can you tell me about your friends, Buffy?"
* * *
In the room and on the bed you sit.
Sit sitting. Your knees drawn up, your arms close. Because there is danger, always danger, and afraid afraid afraid.
The door is opening in waves of not being of its real I don't understand.
Opening.
Watch it. Look at it.
You do.
Him. The little man balding of the good voice. He is there and he smiles at you and there, floating across the room, are his words. Can you see them floating there?
"Hello, Buffy. How are you feeling?"
Can you say something?
No.
More words.
"You have some visitors today, Buffy."
Open door open door door door open.
Them.
The couch, on the couch, looking up lifeless.
Mom?
There, across the room in an instant. And her face is love and good and oh, God I love you I love you Mom.
"Sweetie?"
The smile, tentative, afraid.
I remember. Goodbye, Mom. You said I was strong. I had to go, Mom, don't you see? I had to save them.
Close, sitting on the bed close. Like remember when you were a little girl and she would read you stories before you went to bed?
And Dad, there. Dad, not in Europe away far away with his secretary.
Her voice; your voice, so close that it is like it isn't your own.
"Mommy?"
"Oh, Buffy .... Oh, my God, sweetie ...."
#
She and Balding Good Voice now, in the office. She had the chair and it was stiff and hard to get comfortable because she kept her knees and legs up close. She had to do this, because of the poison. This was part of the poison and she had to find Willow soon.
He watched her. He wasn't sitting behind the desk, but rather on it, facing her. He wasn't a big man and his legs didn't quite reach the floor.
"Do you know who I am, Buffy? Do you remember?"
She nodded.
"Do you remember my name?"
Balding Good Voice.
She shook her head. Tangles of her hair crossed before her vision, shimmering in waves of infinity.
"I'm Dr. Garrett. Do you know where you are?"
Demon poison land.
Her voice came then.
"You aren't real."
He smiled, took his hands and patted at his chest, his thighs, his shoulders.
"I seem real," he said, and he chuckled slightly. "Why don't you think I'm real, Buffy?"
She shook her head. "Demon poison," she said.
"Demon poison?"
She lowered her head, tugged a bit at her hair. "I need the antidote. Need Willow."
"Willow. Your friend, yes? She will bring you this antidote?"
Buffy nodded, looking up at him from under darkened brows.
"Well," Balding Good Voice Dr. Garrett said, "perhaps until Willow comes with the antidote, we can talk."
Buffy eyed him warily.
In the background she heard someone else talking, their voices a cacophony.
Crazy girl crazy girl crazy girl crazy crazy crazy crazy ....
She moaned and covered her ears.
His voice.
"Can you hear me, Buffy?"
"Yes," she whimpered.
"What else do you hear?"
"Make them stop," she moaned. "Make them stop!"
Crazy crazy stupid stupid girl! Hate your mother hate your father hate everyone lie to everyone hate your school hate your friends hate your sister ....
His voice. "Buffy? I'm right here. I'm not going away. You know your mother and father are close by; they're just outside waiting to see you again. They're very excited to see you. You know that, yes?"
She was crying, suddenly, sobbing into her hands.
"I made them go away .... I made them go .... I didn't want to .... Make them stop! Make them stop!"
Then, suddenly, it was quiet in the room.
His voice, gentle, wary.
"Make who stop, Buffy?"
"Them," she answered. "I don't like them."
"Them? Who are they?"
She tugged at her hair, beat against her forehead with her palm. The world was thick with filthy molasses, and it burned inside her eyes.
"Them," she managed. "The voices."
"They talk to you?"
She nodded.
"Do you know them? Do they have names?"
"No."
"They just talk to you."
She nodded again.
"They aren't your friends? They aren't Willow or Xander or Giles?"
"No."
He paused then, and then he spoke. "I will try to make them stop," he said. "But I will need your help if I am going to try. Can you tell me about your friends, Buffy?"
