Reading the Signs

We need to move, I know that now and that means that I have to find a way to deal with Dawn. I can't tell her what's going on, it's not my place, but I do know that unless I can provide her with some sort of explanation she is not likely to acquiesce. Moving for her will mean breaking her last connection to her mother so I know I can expect her to fight me on this. I'm not sure how I'm going to handle that. During these past few months Dawn missed her sister terribly but right now she's having a hard time adjusting to the reality of the changes that she sees in Buffy. She wants her sister back --her old sister-- and she's unwilling to accept that we may never get her back. Maybe Spike will be able to convince her that moving is the best thing for Buffy, but I doubt it.

I don't think Willow and Tara will be a problem. I am pretty sure that by now they have both realized that there is something seriously wrong with Buffy, so hopefully they'll understand. If they don't then they can easily move back into the dorm, though getting a room mid term may prove to be difficult.

As for Buffy, I do know I have a couple of arguments I can use without tipping my hand if I have to. I can say that I can't keep sleeping on the couch for much longer --which would be true if I were actually sleeping there-- or I can mention her financial situation --right now the soundest strategy for her would probably be to rent the house, use that income to cover the mortgage payments and move in with me. Either one of those would probably be enough to convince her, but I don't think they will even be necessary. Ever since she came back Buffy has been obedient in a way that she had never been before and it worries me deeply. She never says 'no', she never argues... even when Angel came, she recoiled like a terrified animal, but she didn't say anything. It is unnatural and I know it, just one more symptom of what she's been through, just one more reason for me to get her out of here and into a place in which maybe she'll finally be able to start believing that she is safe.

The problem is that --even though I have a very general idea of what she went through-- I'm still mostly trying to guess the reasons behind her reactions. I see her flinch, but I'm never sure as to why. She knows I'm aware that she's been using my heartbeat to ground herself but we haven't really talked about it, and the fact that she won't say 'no' means I have to be extremely careful. I know she wouldn't fight me if I were to try and confront her --if I were to ask her outright about what she's been through-- but I could do a lot of damage by pushing too hard. She needs to trust me on her own but she's been hurt and part of her is just waiting to be hurt again... and the fact that at least one of those doing the hurting wore my face is not helping matters either. My heartbeat may provide her with some comfort but it's not even enough to get her to voice even the most basic requests.

The only bright spot is the fact that --even though she's still not ready to refuse anything verbally-- at least physically she is expressing her will to a certain extent. I am still trying to guess why she flinches ninety percent of the times, but --even if she's not ready to talk about it-- the fact that she can flinch, the fact that she did recoil when Angel came to visit after having the fight so completely beaten out of her is actually a good sign, as is the fact that she keeps actively seeking the reassurance of my heartbeat.

When I first saw her she was afraid of me --I know that now-- and yet back then she never tried to get away. At the time I took that to be a good sign, now I know better. She endured my touch because she felt trapped, because she felt that fighting it would have made matters worse. She endured it because she had been conditioned to endure it. It may seem strange but the knowledge that she now seems to be visibly coming apart is oddly reassuring. It tells me that at least a small part of her may finally be starting to realize that she's safe. The fact that some instinctive reactions are emerging tells me that her conditioning may be starting to crack. She still has a very long way to go, I'm not going to deceive myself about that --and I know things will probably get a lot worse before they get better-- but now I know that there's still some hope and that's why we are moving

In my mind I go over what we'll need in our new home. It must be somewhere nice and quiet --a place that will help her heal-- and it must also be big enough to accommodate us all. We will need at least four bedrooms and a basement --seeing how Spike has pretty much taken up residence with us-- preferably with a privacy fenced back yard large enough for her to train in. I'm not sure if she'll ever be able to go back to her training room in the Magic Box, I hope she will but I'm realistic enough to know that it won't happen soon, if at all. The whole point of moving is to get her away from the memories and the Magic Box probably has as many memories as this house.

As for me, luckily there's nowhere else I have to be. Anya has been doing a great job in the store and she will actually be relieved if I stay away from it ...and for once I'm grateful for that. Spike has agreed to take care of patrolling for as long as it takes, which is good because Buffy is in no shape to go out there. Her hold on reality is still tenuous at best and right now the slayer is not my concern, Buffy is.