The next morning, Dawn went to Buffy's room to wake her up. It was an hour past mid-day, and it was very unusual for Buffy to sleep in so late.
She found Buffy curled up into a ball on her bed. Her sister's sheets were drenched with vomit, and Buffy was half-asleep. Dawn approached her sister cautiously. She was muttering to herself, incoherently.
"Buffy?" She called, in a hushed voice. The brunette shouted for Willow, and in a moment the red-headed girl was standing next to her.
"Oh God, Buffy," she muttered. "Dawn, get me some towels," she instructed, as she rushed to Buffy's bedside. "Buffy, wake up.. Buffy.." Willow shook the slayer gently. Her eyes opened as she stared up at Willow.
"Willow?" Tears welled up in her eyes. "Dawn," she gulped. "Dawn.. Dawn.. Willow where is Dawn?" She began, fear beginning to well up inside her.
"Don't worry Buff, she's gone to get some towels." Buffy wasn't litsening. She staggered out of bed uneasily.
"Dawn!" She called, ambling out of her bedroom. "Dawn! Dawn!" She staggered through the hallway, her legs weak. She found her sister, running up the stairs. Dawn opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but was cut off when Buffy wrapped her into a tight embrace.
"Buffy," Dawn muttered, as her sister whimpered into her shoulder. "Buffy what's wrong? What happened?"
Buffy looked up, and wiped the tears from her face.
Come on Buffy, you're being stupid.. You know you're being stupid...
She groaned and sniffed. "I'm sorry," she tried to think of something, not really itching to tell Dawn of her dream. "I think I was a little out of it last night.."
"Damn right you were!" She heard Willow's comment, snyde but worried. She turned around to see the red-headed witch. "Buffy you're sick. Come on, you're going back to bed," she said. "You can sleep in my bed, me and Dawny will get your room cleaned up."
"I'm not sick, Will," Buffy said. She sounded alot more sure than she felt. She felt queasy, and she was sweating like a pig.
"Buff," Willow said sternly. "This is my resolve face. You've seen it before, you know what it means." Sure enough, Willow had her resolve face on, and there was obviously no arguing. So, she allowed Dawn to lead her to Willow's bedroom and tuck her into bed and give her a kiss on the forehead. In a matter of minutes she was sound asleep.
"Something's wrong with Buffy," Dawn told Willow afterward, as she brought the towels into Buffy's bedroom.
"Yea," Willow scoffed. "No kidding." Dawn glared at her. Usually Willow was the only one that would take her seariously.
"I'm searious. Something's spooked her, and bad," she concluded.
"She's sick, she's not at her best anyway," Willow suggested. "I think she's a bit delirious. Like she said, she was out of it last night." Dawn tried to convince herself that Willow was right, yet somehow it wasn't helping.
Buffy woke up later that evening, hardly remembering the events that had occured earlier that day.
She climbed out of bed, still groggily, and headed to her room. She was dressed and downstairs in a few minutes. The Summers household was a zoo, it was a wonder that she had gotten any sleep at all. Willow typing away at her computer, Potentials fighting over the remote, and giggling like hyenas. The second she stepped onto the stairs, she immediantly wanted to go back to bed, but she forced herself to continue into the circus.
Dawn was sitting on the couch watching TV when she saw Buffy coming down the stairs. She got up and gave Buffy a hug.
"How're you feeling?" She asked.
"Alright," she replied simply. She was trying to remember a dream she had last night, but it seemed to escape her. Like water trickling through her hands, the more she thought about it the more distant the memory became.
Andrew was tied up in the corner of the room. Buffy resisted the urge to laughed at the sight of him, craning his neck to see the TV.
"Can't you.." He groaned, trying to move his chair toward the television. "Can't you watch something better than MTV Cribs?"
Kennedy glared at him. "And what would you suggest?"
"Well.." Andrew said, knowing exactly what he wanted to watch. "Passions is coming on in a minute... I've got a feeling that Beth is going to get caught with Sheridan's baby any day now!"
Everyone in the room rolled their eyes at Andrew's lack of shame. It never ceased to amaze Buffy how Andrew was such a geek, and yet he acted almost proud of it. Like he knew what he was, and what he wanted.
At that moment, Anya came in through the front door, looking very tired. She walked over to the couch, where a young, blonde-haired potential was sitting next to Dawn.
"Excuse me," Anya said. "I want to sit. Please move." The potential gave Anya a look, and scooted over. Anya flopped onto the couch, and lay there, staring at the television set.
"What's up with you?" Dawn asked. It wasn't often that Anya was in a mood. Of course, rarely did Anya remember to use manners, but she was usually up-beat and happy.
"I didn't get any sleep last night." She looked at the potentials, sitting around the living room. "I dreamt that you were all killed, horribly and brutally. It was quite colorful, with many organs. Yet I found it oddly disturbing."
The potentials stared at her, gaping and wide-eyed. She found it oddly disturbing. For Anya, that was something to be proud of.
"Thank you, love.." Molly choked out, attempting to hold down her lunch. Dawn patted Anya's knee affectionately.
"Haven't mastered tact yet, have we?" The ex-demon glared at her as if she were a moron.
"Tact is a waste of time. It causes much confusion, and no-one ever understands what you mean." It was true enough. When Anya said something you always understood what she was trying to say.
She found Buffy curled up into a ball on her bed. Her sister's sheets were drenched with vomit, and Buffy was half-asleep. Dawn approached her sister cautiously. She was muttering to herself, incoherently.
"Buffy?" She called, in a hushed voice. The brunette shouted for Willow, and in a moment the red-headed girl was standing next to her.
"Oh God, Buffy," she muttered. "Dawn, get me some towels," she instructed, as she rushed to Buffy's bedside. "Buffy, wake up.. Buffy.." Willow shook the slayer gently. Her eyes opened as she stared up at Willow.
"Willow?" Tears welled up in her eyes. "Dawn," she gulped. "Dawn.. Dawn.. Willow where is Dawn?" She began, fear beginning to well up inside her.
"Don't worry Buff, she's gone to get some towels." Buffy wasn't litsening. She staggered out of bed uneasily.
"Dawn!" She called, ambling out of her bedroom. "Dawn! Dawn!" She staggered through the hallway, her legs weak. She found her sister, running up the stairs. Dawn opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but was cut off when Buffy wrapped her into a tight embrace.
"Buffy," Dawn muttered, as her sister whimpered into her shoulder. "Buffy what's wrong? What happened?"
Buffy looked up, and wiped the tears from her face.
Come on Buffy, you're being stupid.. You know you're being stupid...
She groaned and sniffed. "I'm sorry," she tried to think of something, not really itching to tell Dawn of her dream. "I think I was a little out of it last night.."
"Damn right you were!" She heard Willow's comment, snyde but worried. She turned around to see the red-headed witch. "Buffy you're sick. Come on, you're going back to bed," she said. "You can sleep in my bed, me and Dawny will get your room cleaned up."
"I'm not sick, Will," Buffy said. She sounded alot more sure than she felt. She felt queasy, and she was sweating like a pig.
"Buff," Willow said sternly. "This is my resolve face. You've seen it before, you know what it means." Sure enough, Willow had her resolve face on, and there was obviously no arguing. So, she allowed Dawn to lead her to Willow's bedroom and tuck her into bed and give her a kiss on the forehead. In a matter of minutes she was sound asleep.
"Something's wrong with Buffy," Dawn told Willow afterward, as she brought the towels into Buffy's bedroom.
"Yea," Willow scoffed. "No kidding." Dawn glared at her. Usually Willow was the only one that would take her seariously.
"I'm searious. Something's spooked her, and bad," she concluded.
"She's sick, she's not at her best anyway," Willow suggested. "I think she's a bit delirious. Like she said, she was out of it last night." Dawn tried to convince herself that Willow was right, yet somehow it wasn't helping.
Buffy woke up later that evening, hardly remembering the events that had occured earlier that day.
She climbed out of bed, still groggily, and headed to her room. She was dressed and downstairs in a few minutes. The Summers household was a zoo, it was a wonder that she had gotten any sleep at all. Willow typing away at her computer, Potentials fighting over the remote, and giggling like hyenas. The second she stepped onto the stairs, she immediantly wanted to go back to bed, but she forced herself to continue into the circus.
Dawn was sitting on the couch watching TV when she saw Buffy coming down the stairs. She got up and gave Buffy a hug.
"How're you feeling?" She asked.
"Alright," she replied simply. She was trying to remember a dream she had last night, but it seemed to escape her. Like water trickling through her hands, the more she thought about it the more distant the memory became.
Andrew was tied up in the corner of the room. Buffy resisted the urge to laughed at the sight of him, craning his neck to see the TV.
"Can't you.." He groaned, trying to move his chair toward the television. "Can't you watch something better than MTV Cribs?"
Kennedy glared at him. "And what would you suggest?"
"Well.." Andrew said, knowing exactly what he wanted to watch. "Passions is coming on in a minute... I've got a feeling that Beth is going to get caught with Sheridan's baby any day now!"
Everyone in the room rolled their eyes at Andrew's lack of shame. It never ceased to amaze Buffy how Andrew was such a geek, and yet he acted almost proud of it. Like he knew what he was, and what he wanted.
At that moment, Anya came in through the front door, looking very tired. She walked over to the couch, where a young, blonde-haired potential was sitting next to Dawn.
"Excuse me," Anya said. "I want to sit. Please move." The potential gave Anya a look, and scooted over. Anya flopped onto the couch, and lay there, staring at the television set.
"What's up with you?" Dawn asked. It wasn't often that Anya was in a mood. Of course, rarely did Anya remember to use manners, but she was usually up-beat and happy.
"I didn't get any sleep last night." She looked at the potentials, sitting around the living room. "I dreamt that you were all killed, horribly and brutally. It was quite colorful, with many organs. Yet I found it oddly disturbing."
The potentials stared at her, gaping and wide-eyed. She found it oddly disturbing. For Anya, that was something to be proud of.
"Thank you, love.." Molly choked out, attempting to hold down her lunch. Dawn patted Anya's knee affectionately.
"Haven't mastered tact yet, have we?" The ex-demon glared at her as if she were a moron.
"Tact is a waste of time. It causes much confusion, and no-one ever understands what you mean." It was true enough. When Anya said something you always understood what she was trying to say.