Faith reacted instinctively when Buffy collapsed. Grabbing the blonde around the waist, she managed to keep the other Slayer from falling to the floor. "B? B? Come on, damn it!" Buffy's pallor and her pain-filled moans panicked the brunette. What the hell should she do? I need to call Giles, she thought. Dragging her blonde burden to the bed, Faith got the unconscious girl settled and raced back to the phone.
The rogue Slayer was surprised when she noticed her hands shaking as she dialed the Sunnydale High School Library. After a few rings, a smooth British voice stated, "You've reached the Library. Mr. Wyndham-Pryce speaking. How may I help you?"
Fuck. Wes. Why couldn't Giles answer the phone? Faith hesitated, weighing her options. Talking with her former Watcher might help Buffy, but certainly wouldn't make her life any better. She knew something had to be done, as the continued whimpering from the alcove echoed hauntingly.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" Wesley's voice sounded in her ear.
Faith was clear that asking the Council member's help wasn't going to be part of the plan. Yet, she still wasn't sure what her next move should be. She hung up the phone and sat down at the small table.
What the hell am I gonna do? She can't stay here. I don't know what's wrong with her and if the Boss finds out I've got her, he's gonna want me to kill her.
Filled with nervous energy, Faith sprang out of the chair and began pacing. Her thoughts whirled as she tried to find a workable solution to her problem. Despite the size of the apartment, the Slayer soon tired of making circuits around the furniture. She ended her trek by the bed, and stood gazing at the tossing, mumbling blonde. "OK, B, what should I do, huh? You can't stay here, and I can't take you to Giles. We need to get you home so the Super Friends can find out what's wrong.
"Whoa! That's it, B," the brunette said to the other girl. "I'll call your mom." Relieved to finally have a plan, Faith went back to the phone.
It took a few minutes for the gallery's receptionist to put the older Summers on the line. "This is Joyce."
"Hey, Mrs. S. It's Faith, um, Buffy's friend." OK, not exactly true. "Um, Buffy came over to my place, and I – she wasn't feeling very well."
"Buffy's at your place? Why isn't she in school?"
Great. I don't have time to play Twenty Questions with the mom of the year. "Honestly, Mrs. S, I don't know. She just kinda showed up to tell about some demon that's in town. While we were talking, she started acting funny. Said she had a headache. The next thing I know, she's out cold."
"What?! Faith, have you called Mr.Giles?"
"Well, yeah, but he didn't answer."
"OK. Just tell me where you live and I'll be right there."
"Sure." Faith rattled off directions before putting the handset back on the wall. She slowly made her way back the other Slayer. "Your mom's on the way. Now, how do I get you outta here without someone seeing us?"
A quick glance around the apartment didn't provide any clues. "OK, B, guess we'll just take you right out the front door. Boss's got vamps for lackeys; they've got a problem with the sunlight. Maybe I won't need to tell him you were here. What do you think?" Buffy's only response was a pained moan. "Yeah, you're right. Sounds pretty thin. While I'm hauling your ass down to the car, I'll think of something to tell the Boss when he asks about it."
The brunette decided enough time had passed. "Just so you know, I'm not coppin' a feel here. So don't wake up and freak on me, 'kay?" Shaking her head at the one-sided conversation, Faith bent over the bed and scooped up the other girl. Making sure she had the other Slayer securely, she headed for the door. The trip down in the elevator was silent. Faith was too busy thinking up possible excuses to be very talkative with her blonde bundle.
Once at street level, the brunette Slayer extended her senses to the fullest. "Right, B. Seems we have an audience. Hope you appreciate all the trouble I'm gonna be in from saving your pathetic ass. Huh, wonder why I'm even bothering? Boss'd give me a fucking medal if I brought you in." Faith frowned. The idea bothered her for some reason. "Nah. When the time's right, you and me are going to do this up right. I'll prove to you and the rest of your posse that I'm the better Slayer."
She carried the smaller girl outside to the waiting car. Joyce Summers hopped out and ran around the car to open the passenger door. "Oh, my God, Faith. How long has she been like this?"
"Not long. Half an hour or so, I guess." Faith deposited Buffy into the car and stepped back. "Maybe you'll have better luck reaching G-man. I'm sure he and the Scoobs will know what to do."
"Thank you, Faith." Joyce surprised the rogue Slayer with a brief hug before getting into the car and driving off.
Staring at the departing Jeep in bemusement, the brunette came to a decision. Have to get to the Boss before his boys rat me out, she thought, heading back to the apartment to change clothes.
With a small groan, Buffy slowly opened her eyes. Her mother, Giles, and the rest of the Scooby gang surrounded her bed.
I think she's waking up she heard Willow think.
Hard on the heels of that, Xander commented, She's OK.
Other thoughts trickled in, too, causing Buffy to close her eyes again in a vain attempt to block out the sounds. "Shut up!" she shouted.
Her gathered family stepped back at her outburst. "I'm sorry, I - . Just could you guys not think so loud," she begged. Then, feeling the continued assault of their mental voices, she continued, "Or so much?"
Looking harried, the ex-Watcher gently herded all of the teens from the room. He and Joyce took spots on the bed, one to either side of the Slayer. "It's going to be OK, sweetie." Her mother patted her arm through the blanket. "Can I get you anything? Another pillow? Something to drink?"
Despite the cacophony in her head, the younger Summers noticed how jumpy her mother was. "Mom, I'm fine. Well, OK, maybe not fine fine, but I don't need anything right now." She tried to smile. "Thanks, though."
"No problem, dear. Now, I'll just leave you with Mr. Giles." Joyce headed swiftly for the door.
Buffy watched her in confusion until she was able to isolate her mother's thoughts from all the others.
Great. If I can just get out of here before she hears me thinking about that night with Rupert.
"Mom?" Buffy said, sitting up in bed. "You had sex with Giles? " Then, louder, "You had sex with Giles?"
"Oh, good Lord," the man in question exclaimed. "Buffy-"
He didn't have a chance to finish. Joyce Summers answered for him, facing her daughter with an apologetic expression. "It was the candy. We were teenagers." Unfortunately, thinking about the experience brought the details close to the surface, and right into her daughter's mind.
"On the hood of a police car?" Buffy nearly shouted.
Joyce realized she had to leave the room. Yanking the door open, she mumbled, "I'll be downstairs. You feel better." She was still too slow. The last damning memory reached Buffy.
Feeling nauseous from the pain in her head and the wild thoughts in her mother's mind, Buffy shouted after Joyce's fleeing form, "Twice?" Receiving no answer, she turned on Giles. "I can't believe you had sex with my mother. That's…that's," she couldn't find the words to express her revulsion.
"That's really not an issue right now, Buffy," her Watcher said calmly. "We need to focus on your telepathy and how to help you block out the thoughts."
Glaring at him, the Slayer was unwilling to move past the disturbing revelation. However, the continued chattering in her mind persuaded Buffy that Giles might be right. "Fine. But we will talk about this later."
"Yes, well, you are not the only person to have been infected with this particular Aspect." Giles seemed much more comfortable now that they were back in research mode. "There aren't a lot of details unfortunately."
"There is a way to block out the voices, though, right?" Giles removed his glasses and began to clean them with a handkerchief. "Giles? Come on, you said we needed to focus on blocking out the thoughts. So there's a way to do that, right?"
"Well, Buffy, I believe there is a way. I simply haven't been able to find any documented cases of actual telepathy."
The Slayer stared at the older man in horror. Although the swarm of conversations pounding at her had lessened since her collapse at Faith's apartment, the remaining voices hurt. Forcing herself not to panic, for the moment at least, she lay back against the pillows. "You and Wills are still looking for a solution?" It came out as more of a statement than a question. After two years, Buffy trusted Giles to have her back.
"Of course, my dear," he was quick to reassure her. "I even have Wesley working through channels with the Council to see if they have any useful records."
"Alright. I'll just try and get some rest while you guys keep looking." Buffy hesitated. "I'll be OK. I mean, even if this doesn't go away?"
"You'll be fine." Giles said unconvincingly. "I promise." He stood and moved toward the door.
Buffy curled into a ball on the bed, Giles' unspoken comments repeating endlessly in her head, If this doesn't go away, she'll go insane.