Disclaimers and fic info live at Chapter 1.
"Jesus!" It was the only word she could get out. Didn't know why, it never meant anything to her before, but now it flashed in her brain like a neon sign.
She had leaned against the door without meaning to, searching for some additional support. Slight stumble backward as it closed, but comforting to have something solid against her back. Knees were a bit wobbly. This is what shock feels like.
With visible effort, Buffy stood up straight and took a step forward, hand to her mouth for a moment, prompting words. "Holy God, you're pregnant."
"Can't put anything past you, B. Why don't you pull up a chair? Looks like you need to get off your feet for a minute." Buffy just nodded mutely, moving toward the back wall, grateful to have a small task to propel her into motion.
This was turning out like a bad trip; she had seen this already. Faith lying in a hospital bed, head propped up by pillows, IV dripping, heart monitor… beeping? But it wasn't really the same, was it? Difference of bruises and internal injuries, gaping wounds to the gut. And that heart monitor wasn't beeping, it was thudding, very fast, and it wasn't hers, but the baby's-? The baby's heart beating as she listened. Pregnant. A baby living in Faith's body.
Chair looked comfy, pretty nice considering the rest of this place, so she pulled it closer to the bed and gratefully sat. Pushed hair out of her face that wasn't really there. Hands in lap, ankles crossed. Deep breath.
"There's a pitcher of water if you –"
"No thanks. I'm good." She squirmed a bit in the chair, uncomfortable at her proximity to this girl she hadn't seen in two years. Never been so close to a pregnant person before. Of course, never been to a prison before. Life, version 3.0. Next time she came back from the dead, she'd scale Mount Everest. Just to keep up.
"Not… really sure what to say here." Understatement. Major understatement. One that warranted a smile from the dark-haired slayer.
"I figured. That's okay. I should be doing all the talking anyway."
"Works for me. You go right ahead." Best course of action. Too much strangeness, waiting anxiously to hear what Faith had to say. Couldn't drag her eyes away from that bulging stomach. God, she looked like she was ready to explode. "When are you due?"
"I'm having a C-section on Wednesday."
"Jesus!"
"Expecting him to answer or something?"
"Funny."
"'Cause ya know, when you talk to God, it's called prayer, but when God talks to you, it's called schizophrenia."
That did it. They were laughing. Together. Briefly, lasting only a moment or two, but it happened. And it seemed… perfectly normal. Like it had always been this way. Like things had never gone horribly wrong. Although in their fucked-up lives, what's a little attempted murder between slayers? But this act, this scene? All out of character. That girl, in that bed, could never be a mother. And this girl, sitting here in this chair, shouldn't even be here. Shouldn't be laughing with this girl who… well, the why is fairly obvious. But the anger just wouldn't come. And even if it did, yelling at someone lying in a prison infirmary, positively glowing with pregnancy?
"I really shouldn't laugh. I might piss myself."
"That happen often?"
"Pregnancy does weird things to the body."
"Is… something wrong? I mean, why do you have to have a Cesarean?"
"Slayers were built for battle, not having babies. There's this whole medical explanation thing, hips not wide enough, weak uterine wall-"
"Thanks, I get it. Makes you wonder how the other slayers did it, though. Before surgery."
"They didn't, Buffy. I'm the first."
"What?"
"I'm the first slayer to have a baby."
"How do you know that?"
"If you think about it, it makes sense. We've lived longer than most of them. And I'm probably the only one away from the front lines this long. There were entries in the Watchers' Diaries about slayers having miscarriages, but no one else went to term."
"Who told you this?"
"Quinton Travers."
TBC
"Jesus!" It was the only word she could get out. Didn't know why, it never meant anything to her before, but now it flashed in her brain like a neon sign.
She had leaned against the door without meaning to, searching for some additional support. Slight stumble backward as it closed, but comforting to have something solid against her back. Knees were a bit wobbly. This is what shock feels like.
With visible effort, Buffy stood up straight and took a step forward, hand to her mouth for a moment, prompting words. "Holy God, you're pregnant."
"Can't put anything past you, B. Why don't you pull up a chair? Looks like you need to get off your feet for a minute." Buffy just nodded mutely, moving toward the back wall, grateful to have a small task to propel her into motion.
This was turning out like a bad trip; she had seen this already. Faith lying in a hospital bed, head propped up by pillows, IV dripping, heart monitor… beeping? But it wasn't really the same, was it? Difference of bruises and internal injuries, gaping wounds to the gut. And that heart monitor wasn't beeping, it was thudding, very fast, and it wasn't hers, but the baby's-? The baby's heart beating as she listened. Pregnant. A baby living in Faith's body.
Chair looked comfy, pretty nice considering the rest of this place, so she pulled it closer to the bed and gratefully sat. Pushed hair out of her face that wasn't really there. Hands in lap, ankles crossed. Deep breath.
"There's a pitcher of water if you –"
"No thanks. I'm good." She squirmed a bit in the chair, uncomfortable at her proximity to this girl she hadn't seen in two years. Never been so close to a pregnant person before. Of course, never been to a prison before. Life, version 3.0. Next time she came back from the dead, she'd scale Mount Everest. Just to keep up.
"Not… really sure what to say here." Understatement. Major understatement. One that warranted a smile from the dark-haired slayer.
"I figured. That's okay. I should be doing all the talking anyway."
"Works for me. You go right ahead." Best course of action. Too much strangeness, waiting anxiously to hear what Faith had to say. Couldn't drag her eyes away from that bulging stomach. God, she looked like she was ready to explode. "When are you due?"
"I'm having a C-section on Wednesday."
"Jesus!"
"Expecting him to answer or something?"
"Funny."
"'Cause ya know, when you talk to God, it's called prayer, but when God talks to you, it's called schizophrenia."
That did it. They were laughing. Together. Briefly, lasting only a moment or two, but it happened. And it seemed… perfectly normal. Like it had always been this way. Like things had never gone horribly wrong. Although in their fucked-up lives, what's a little attempted murder between slayers? But this act, this scene? All out of character. That girl, in that bed, could never be a mother. And this girl, sitting here in this chair, shouldn't even be here. Shouldn't be laughing with this girl who… well, the why is fairly obvious. But the anger just wouldn't come. And even if it did, yelling at someone lying in a prison infirmary, positively glowing with pregnancy?
"I really shouldn't laugh. I might piss myself."
"That happen often?"
"Pregnancy does weird things to the body."
"Is… something wrong? I mean, why do you have to have a Cesarean?"
"Slayers were built for battle, not having babies. There's this whole medical explanation thing, hips not wide enough, weak uterine wall-"
"Thanks, I get it. Makes you wonder how the other slayers did it, though. Before surgery."
"They didn't, Buffy. I'm the first."
"What?"
"I'm the first slayer to have a baby."
"How do you know that?"
"If you think about it, it makes sense. We've lived longer than most of them. And I'm probably the only one away from the front lines this long. There were entries in the Watchers' Diaries about slayers having miscarriages, but no one else went to term."
"Who told you this?"
"Quinton Travers."
TBC