Half & Half
Chapter Three: The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows
the angel from my nightmare
the shadow in the background of the morgue…"
—Blink-182
"Now stay asleep," Harrison commanded of the small, limp young dog as he placed him gently in his makeshift bed. It was a fairly large cardboard box for a computer or something like that, and lined in warm, old blankets for the feisty little pup to chew on, tear up, and sleep on. He stared down at the small little thing. He'd tried to figure out what to call it for the past hour, since Tru had left for work earlier than usual, but that was for Tru to decide. Rain splattered on the windows in his sister's small apartment; there was a huge thunderstorm rocking the city outside.
His eyes finally left the juvenile canine in its environment to the overused couch splayed in the living room's center. Harrison flopped on its soft, ancient cushions, grabbing hold of the remote.
The door whined open.
Harrison sat up, and then got off of it completely as he met the new visitor. "L-Lindsay?" he managed to stammer. And indeed it was the glorious young woman who held his heart (metaphorically speaking, anyway) in her clenched fists. She nodded silently, covered from head to foot in dripping water. Her pallid face was especially wet, but Harry noticed it wasn't the rain outside that had dampened her features; it was tears. With puffy, red, crying eyes, she looked at him for two seconds, and then wrapped her arms around him, burying her face and sobbing loudly into his shoulder.
And as much as Harrison wanted to ask why, as much as he'd like to know her purpose here, he knew that her presence was far better than any explanation.
8
"Who the fuck are you?" Faith snarled, returning the question with far more hostility. She fumbled for the stake in the back pocket of her jeans, then clenching her fingers around it with the Slayer's iron grip. With her other hand, she grabbed Tru's shoulder, slamming her into a wall, then pinning her against it.
"Do you always steal your victim's identities and looks before you murder them?" Tru snapped through the throbbing pain radiating from her spinal cord.
"I'm not a serial killer. I don't kill… humans." Faith thought about this sentence for a moment with hesitation, an emotion she wasn't quite familiar with.
"Oh, and the pointy stick your gonna jab at me totally says you're not a killer. And if you don't kill humans, what are you? Some freaky animal killer?" panic was coursing through Tru's voice, but she didn't want her to know it. She searched her white jacket pocket for a knife, scissors… anything. Finally, a cold, metallic, sterile knife used for Y-incisions in autopsies slipped into her grasp.
Faith smiled slightly, "You wanna know the truth?" she asked the rhetorical question, her voice almost a bit hoarse. "I kill vampires. Demons. Drive a stake through their hearts just like on all of the horror movies that haunted your daydreams and nightmares." She added a bit a of sarcasm, knowing that this evil clone or whatever the hell she was wouldn't believe her in a million years.
Great, Tru thought. She's crazy and she's got a stake. But suddenly, the dreams flooded through her mind, brief flashes. The girl. This was the dead girl. The girl in the back of the truck. Tru attempted to squirm away from Faith's grasp. "Who are you?"
"I'm Faith," she informed her. "And you are?" she said this with a drawl, and it was almost hostile.
"Tru Davies," she answered with equal threat in her identical vocals. Faith… that was the girl… in my dream… oh my God… "Buffy," Tru began. "Do you know her? She's blonde and—"
"What the hell do you want from me?" her already merciless grip tightened.
"I don't want anything!" Tru shouted into Faith's face, a shimmer of dust showering from the plaster on the ceiling. Faith suddenly let go, and she started to back away.
"What's your birthday?" she asked suddenly.
"July 13th. Today." Tru replied, a bit shaken as she continued to grip the knife in her pocket if the need be.
"W-Where were you born?" for the first time in her life, Faith stammered.
"Southern Boston…" Tru's voice seemed to be distant.
"Oh my God…" Faith's eyes widened as her knees buckled and she fell to the floor. "I… this explains it…" she looked up at Tru with wide brown eyes. "Tru… Tru, I think we're… sisters…"
"Twins."
Dawn peered from behind the texts filled with ancient Medieval Italian manuscripts. "Buffy?" she piped up quietly, closing the thick book.
"Yes?"
"It's happening."
The teenage boy sprinted away from his attackers, running faster than he ever did in P.E. But they loomed closer, grabbing the back of his shirt and slamming him into the earth. The taste of dirt and grass lingered in his mouth, giving a gritty texture in his mouth. He groped blindly for his glasses, which had been knocked off of his bloody nose. His hand finally found them, but it was crushed under the shoe of Chuck Kruger, ringleader of the bullies and jocks (they were basically under the same category in his high school). "Lookin' fer somethin', Ronniekins?" Chuck asked sardonically, picking up the ruined glasses. The group around him laughed in union with Chuck.
"L-L-Leave me al-alone!" Ron demanded.
"Oh, who's gonna stop us, freak?"
Suddenly, a deep drone of a voice rang in their ears, except it didn't… it was in their heads!
Leave him!
Chuck backed away suddenly, then ran with his friends, shouting. "Jesus, Ron, you are a freak!"
Ronald, open your eyes. Ron had his eyes clenched closed, but opened again. His sight was clear. Get up. He did, looking into the woods beyond his school. There was a piece of the woods that seemed out of place. Like a distorted image.
Come to me, Ronald. Come to me, and come to everything you desire.
Author's Note: Ah! That ended with a slightly 10th Kingdom-ish feeling, don't you think? Like when the evil stepmother is luring Virginia's mother into the nine kingdoms to finish her work? Uh… never mind…
Next Chapter: 'The Two Halves'; Lindsay and Harrison spend some time with Tru's puppy (the Lindsay/Harrison section will be a LOT longer, too); Davis shows up late for work, and totally freaks out when he sees Faith and Tru; and… I can't tell you everything –winkwink-