A/N: Alright. I gave in. Due to a couple of simple reviews on my supposed
'one-shot' finale dedication fic, I have been inspired to write more. I
don't know what this is going to turn into, nor do I have any promises on
weather I will actually find it in my lazy mind to fully finish my plot,
but an idea dawned on me and I'm willing to go with it. Please drop me a
line if you like it, and urge me to keep it up. After all, I think I owe us
a happier ending =)
~~~~~~
A thin streak of sunlight fought its way through the thick curtains of the cream-tinted hotel room, dancing dully upon a crumbled feminine figure slumped under the covers of a lone twin bed.
With a muffled groan of masked pleasure, Buffy Summers rolled over, greedily clinging to the bed sheets as a small smile lined her lips, the aftermath of a blissful subconscious world were things were as one would have wanted.
"Mmmm."
A wary yawn broke the still silence, as the slayer allowed her eyes to slip open, carelessly taking in the lifeless room; from the shimmering light that broke through the heavily guarded windows, informing her that it was well into the afternoon, to the cream colored walls that reeked of cheap wallpaper, lurking up to the off-white ceiling and finally falling on the bed she lay upon.
Not for the first time in the past 24 hours, Buffy's heart skipped a beat as her mind wandered back through the most recent day's events, and once more, she bid all the painful memories that eased themselves back into her head, to have been one horrid dream.
But then, after a mere few moments of hope and reassurance, a throbbing headache and more then a few sore body parts brought Buffy back to reality. Her worst nightmare had indeed come to play the day before, and she was still all alone to face it.
"Buffy?"
She jumped at the sounding of her name as a strong knock jerked her from another round of mindless thoughts, and she scooted up in the bed, still not fully awake although well aware of the pain spreading through her.
"Buffy? Are you up?"
A familiar British accented male voice, deep and authoritative, called out from behind the thin wooden door of her room. It didn't take much to recognize the edge of worry in the caller's tone.
"Yea, coming."
The reply flowed freely through the awkward silence that followed the question, and the knocking stopped almost instantly. Buffy didn't bother rising from the bed just yet; her eyes murky and hollow as she sat still and inhaled the thick air.
"Buffy? Are you alright?"
And once again her wandering thoughts were interrupted. She sighed and pushed herself off the bed with a wince, knowing all to well that this was one of those things that would not go away if merely ignored.
Stepping over a batch of dirty clothes -bloodied and torn from the previous day's battles, well beyond the line of repair- which she'd not bothered to put away, Buffy aimlessly made her way to the poorly painted door and turned the lock, surprisingly startling herself as it clicked over dramatically, and swung the door open to reveal a middle-aged man with a genuine look of concern and love in his eyes.
"I'm fine, Giles. I must have overslept."
The reply came out on instinct. She was far from 'fine.' They both knew it.
"What time is it? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?"
Buffy urged on, ignoring the look of uncertainty towards her condition in the knowing eyes of her watcher; the closest person she had to a father.
"It's well past 2 in the afternoon, Buffy. And no. I'm perfectly well. It takes more then a few scratches to slow me down."
She managed a slight smile despite of her crappy mood. She expected as much. After withstanding Willow's darkened force last year, Buffy was beginning to wonder if anything could in fact stop Giles in his tracks. And, to god, she hoped she'd never have to find out.
"Really now. What are you doing here? The others might need-"
"Everyone's in the local hospital, in recovery, just a few blocks away, Buffy. And they're all worried about your weel-being. I came to check up on you for my personal relief as well as theirs."
After getting no reaction, he went on.
"That was quite a serious undertaking we went through, and you didn't even allow to be examined by a professional doctor. Yew rarely said much of anything when we arrived, and frankly, it's rather unhealthy for you to drift away in such a time. It tends to end badly."
By this point, a traditional eye roll had taken toll, and Buffy leaned against the door frame bidding her elder to finish. A small flame of anger whirled up inside her, but she tried desperately to hold it in. How could she make him understand that her world was now thrown upside down? How could she even begin to explain to him what they all would refuse to see? Where would she even start?
Once he had stopped to make sure she was keeping up with his rants, she looked up from her own daydreams and wasted no time to jump in and shush him before she'd blow.
"Giles. When have I ever gone to a doctor? Another day or two and I'll be good as new. And last night, I- I didn't feel like talking. I was tired and... I just need some time to, you know, think? Alone."
She falsely attempted a reassuring smile but was unable to hold his gaze for more then a second. Silence sank in and she sighed. It wasn't long before she felt her watcher's protective hand resting on her shoulder.
"We lost a lot of people yesterday."
Her eyes instantly closed and she held her breath in order to keep herself together. She knew what was coming, and the last thing she'd want was to fall apart right then and there.
His voice was deep and compassionate, trying to be polite for he knew that his slayer's relationship with one such bleached vampire had grown immensely over the past few months. But despite his own gratitude and recognition for what Spike had done in order to save them all, Giles was far from approvingly any aspect of Buffy's feelings towards the late vampire, and he would under no account allow her to waste away any more of her life mourning for him.
"I know it's hard. Buffy, but being with your family and friends, who all need you as much as you need them, it might be of help in. moving on past this."
The last thing she wanted now was to be around her people. It would only make things more complicated. She didn't want company. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to move on.
The watcher didn't know anything. None of them did.
"I said, I'm fine, Giles."
Buffy shot back with such force that even she was caught off guard by her urge to stop this conversation. The man recognized that daring hint in her voice, and knew when to back down. With a sigh, this time from him, the supportive hand left her shoulder and Buffy looked up apologetically, but found herself unable to speak.
Again, a moment of silence passed, before Giles broke it.
"Angel's here."
That shouldn't have surprised her, seeing as her 'former' lover did live in LA, where she'd asked him to remain, but her eyes instantly flared with emotion.
"You were planning on telling me this, when exactly?"
Once more, her tone was stone cold, and Giles felt a chill run down his spine, but he held his stand.
"That was the other reason I came. To get you. He's over at the hospital; came late yesterday looking for you. He stayed the night, knowing you'd need your rest, and hoping his services could be of any us to us."
"How considerate." She muttered under her breath, but Giles caught on to it, but continued.
"He wants to talk to you. But s'alright if you're not up to it. I'll tell him you were still sleeping or-"
"No need. Let me just change and I'm coming." Buffy's mind had again wandered to the conversation with Angel the day before the big battle had gone down, and a gleam of a growing idea was present in her eyes.
He was the one who'd brought her that amulet, the one that Spike wore to his death, and he was to try and dig up more information on it. There were some questions that she needed answered now. Maybe there would be a way to change things. Maybe, there would be something she could do and-
"Buffy?"
She looked up, not having moved from the door since she first opened it, and met a pair of determined eyes.
"He's gone. You have to move on."
With another flare of anger, she swallowed hard and grabbed the doorknob.
"I'll be a minute."
Her voice was cold and harsh, matching the glare in her eyes. The door slammed shut with just a little more force then needed, right in the watcher's face. It was a scene all too familiar.
An eerie silence drifted down into the hotel hallway. Giles lifted his clenched fist to knock and try to give an apology, but he chose against it. He sighed once more and leaned back on the wall to wait her out.
It was the least he could do now.
~~~~~~
A thin streak of sunlight fought its way through the thick curtains of the cream-tinted hotel room, dancing dully upon a crumbled feminine figure slumped under the covers of a lone twin bed.
With a muffled groan of masked pleasure, Buffy Summers rolled over, greedily clinging to the bed sheets as a small smile lined her lips, the aftermath of a blissful subconscious world were things were as one would have wanted.
"Mmmm."
A wary yawn broke the still silence, as the slayer allowed her eyes to slip open, carelessly taking in the lifeless room; from the shimmering light that broke through the heavily guarded windows, informing her that it was well into the afternoon, to the cream colored walls that reeked of cheap wallpaper, lurking up to the off-white ceiling and finally falling on the bed she lay upon.
Not for the first time in the past 24 hours, Buffy's heart skipped a beat as her mind wandered back through the most recent day's events, and once more, she bid all the painful memories that eased themselves back into her head, to have been one horrid dream.
But then, after a mere few moments of hope and reassurance, a throbbing headache and more then a few sore body parts brought Buffy back to reality. Her worst nightmare had indeed come to play the day before, and she was still all alone to face it.
"Buffy?"
She jumped at the sounding of her name as a strong knock jerked her from another round of mindless thoughts, and she scooted up in the bed, still not fully awake although well aware of the pain spreading through her.
"Buffy? Are you up?"
A familiar British accented male voice, deep and authoritative, called out from behind the thin wooden door of her room. It didn't take much to recognize the edge of worry in the caller's tone.
"Yea, coming."
The reply flowed freely through the awkward silence that followed the question, and the knocking stopped almost instantly. Buffy didn't bother rising from the bed just yet; her eyes murky and hollow as she sat still and inhaled the thick air.
"Buffy? Are you alright?"
And once again her wandering thoughts were interrupted. She sighed and pushed herself off the bed with a wince, knowing all to well that this was one of those things that would not go away if merely ignored.
Stepping over a batch of dirty clothes -bloodied and torn from the previous day's battles, well beyond the line of repair- which she'd not bothered to put away, Buffy aimlessly made her way to the poorly painted door and turned the lock, surprisingly startling herself as it clicked over dramatically, and swung the door open to reveal a middle-aged man with a genuine look of concern and love in his eyes.
"I'm fine, Giles. I must have overslept."
The reply came out on instinct. She was far from 'fine.' They both knew it.
"What time is it? Shouldn't you be in the hospital?"
Buffy urged on, ignoring the look of uncertainty towards her condition in the knowing eyes of her watcher; the closest person she had to a father.
"It's well past 2 in the afternoon, Buffy. And no. I'm perfectly well. It takes more then a few scratches to slow me down."
She managed a slight smile despite of her crappy mood. She expected as much. After withstanding Willow's darkened force last year, Buffy was beginning to wonder if anything could in fact stop Giles in his tracks. And, to god, she hoped she'd never have to find out.
"Really now. What are you doing here? The others might need-"
"Everyone's in the local hospital, in recovery, just a few blocks away, Buffy. And they're all worried about your weel-being. I came to check up on you for my personal relief as well as theirs."
After getting no reaction, he went on.
"That was quite a serious undertaking we went through, and you didn't even allow to be examined by a professional doctor. Yew rarely said much of anything when we arrived, and frankly, it's rather unhealthy for you to drift away in such a time. It tends to end badly."
By this point, a traditional eye roll had taken toll, and Buffy leaned against the door frame bidding her elder to finish. A small flame of anger whirled up inside her, but she tried desperately to hold it in. How could she make him understand that her world was now thrown upside down? How could she even begin to explain to him what they all would refuse to see? Where would she even start?
Once he had stopped to make sure she was keeping up with his rants, she looked up from her own daydreams and wasted no time to jump in and shush him before she'd blow.
"Giles. When have I ever gone to a doctor? Another day or two and I'll be good as new. And last night, I- I didn't feel like talking. I was tired and... I just need some time to, you know, think? Alone."
She falsely attempted a reassuring smile but was unable to hold his gaze for more then a second. Silence sank in and she sighed. It wasn't long before she felt her watcher's protective hand resting on her shoulder.
"We lost a lot of people yesterday."
Her eyes instantly closed and she held her breath in order to keep herself together. She knew what was coming, and the last thing she'd want was to fall apart right then and there.
His voice was deep and compassionate, trying to be polite for he knew that his slayer's relationship with one such bleached vampire had grown immensely over the past few months. But despite his own gratitude and recognition for what Spike had done in order to save them all, Giles was far from approvingly any aspect of Buffy's feelings towards the late vampire, and he would under no account allow her to waste away any more of her life mourning for him.
"I know it's hard. Buffy, but being with your family and friends, who all need you as much as you need them, it might be of help in. moving on past this."
The last thing she wanted now was to be around her people. It would only make things more complicated. She didn't want company. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to move on.
The watcher didn't know anything. None of them did.
"I said, I'm fine, Giles."
Buffy shot back with such force that even she was caught off guard by her urge to stop this conversation. The man recognized that daring hint in her voice, and knew when to back down. With a sigh, this time from him, the supportive hand left her shoulder and Buffy looked up apologetically, but found herself unable to speak.
Again, a moment of silence passed, before Giles broke it.
"Angel's here."
That shouldn't have surprised her, seeing as her 'former' lover did live in LA, where she'd asked him to remain, but her eyes instantly flared with emotion.
"You were planning on telling me this, when exactly?"
Once more, her tone was stone cold, and Giles felt a chill run down his spine, but he held his stand.
"That was the other reason I came. To get you. He's over at the hospital; came late yesterday looking for you. He stayed the night, knowing you'd need your rest, and hoping his services could be of any us to us."
"How considerate." She muttered under her breath, but Giles caught on to it, but continued.
"He wants to talk to you. But s'alright if you're not up to it. I'll tell him you were still sleeping or-"
"No need. Let me just change and I'm coming." Buffy's mind had again wandered to the conversation with Angel the day before the big battle had gone down, and a gleam of a growing idea was present in her eyes.
He was the one who'd brought her that amulet, the one that Spike wore to his death, and he was to try and dig up more information on it. There were some questions that she needed answered now. Maybe there would be a way to change things. Maybe, there would be something she could do and-
"Buffy?"
She looked up, not having moved from the door since she first opened it, and met a pair of determined eyes.
"He's gone. You have to move on."
With another flare of anger, she swallowed hard and grabbed the doorknob.
"I'll be a minute."
Her voice was cold and harsh, matching the glare in her eyes. The door slammed shut with just a little more force then needed, right in the watcher's face. It was a scene all too familiar.
An eerie silence drifted down into the hotel hallway. Giles lifted his clenched fist to knock and try to give an apology, but he chose against it. He sighed once more and leaned back on the wall to wait her out.
It was the least he could do now.