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gen_storytellerSeries: We Can Run Away Now They’re All Dead and Gone.
Part One: Things Born of Fire.
Chapter: 4/10.
Author: Aurey09.
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: Ensemble.
Disclaimer: Joss’ world, I’m just visiting.
A/N: Thank you to my beta![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
noandwhere
Part One: Things Born of Fire.
Chapter: 4/10.
Author: Aurey09.
Rating: PG-13.
Characters: Ensemble.
Disclaimer: Joss’ world, I’m just visiting.
A/N: Thank you to my beta
noandwhereBuffy examined her wound in the bathroom mirror. She didn’t think it was healing fast enough, but she stopped herself from prodding at it.
Dawn stepped out of a bathroom stall and washed her hands. The smell of bleach was even worse in here than it was in the rest of the hospital, it reminded Buffy of all the times the two of them had spent inside a hospital. The doctors couldn’t save her mom; Buffy couldn’t save her mom - she hoped Robin Wood and the girls all did better.
Buffy thought she’d seen someone else in the hallway, someone she hadn’t been able to save - Cassie - but then again it could have been some other girl, all she’d seen was the back of her head.
“You should go get that looked at.” Dawn said, shaking water off her hands.
“It’s nothing.” Buffy said and yanked her shirt back over her wound.
“Well nothing looks like it’s about to hemorrhage all over the floor.” Dawn had already told her to get it looked at by a professional; Buffy couldn’t think of anyone more acquainted with woundage than herself but Dawn wasn’t about to give up, Buffy knew this because they were both the same in that respect.
“I’ve taken worse, much worse.” Buffy made her way to the door.
“I just want to take care of you.”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be take care of you.”
“Well you aren’t going to if you’re dead,” Dawn said. “You’re not a good care-giver when you’re dead.” Buffy looked at Dawn, she sometimes forgot that Dawn was so young, with all that they’d been through, Buffy also had to be reminded that she was still young herself.
“Buffy your hand!” Dawn caught sight of Buffy’s burn, she lifted her palm slowly into the light, it would heal. “You need to get it looked at.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “What happened?”
“Got set on fire.” Buffy said, her eyes gradually meet Dawn’s. Dawn seemed to be looking for more of an explanation.
Buffy gave in. She couldn’t deal with the interrogation of the century she knew would come otherwise. “I touched Spike’s hand, our hands ignited.” She paused. “I didn’t let go, straight away.” She didn’t feel comfortable with the conversation. Her feelings were as raw as they had ever been. She wasn’t ashamed that she had loved Spike, it had been love - she’d been sure enough to tell him after all but still she’d never felt comfortable putting that particular word to anything. It was a word so over used, it been burnt to a crisp, much worse than her hand could ever have been.
“I forgave him,” Dawn admitted. “I thought that you should know that.”
“So you didn’t hate him, because all the things you said before were convincing--”
“No, hello former head of the Spike fan club.” Dawn smiled wickedly lighting the mood. “You know I liked him first. You totally stole him from me. Just like RJ at school.”
“That was a spell, plus I‘m the pretty one.” Buffy’s mouth twitched reluctantly into a grin.
“Mom always said I was the pretty one.”
“So, a fake memory, constructed by the monks to make you feel better because I’m hotter than you.”
“You’re just over compensating for your hair.” Dawn said. “You have mom hair!”
“At least I don’t have big bug eyes.”
“I do not,” Dawn blinked in horror. “I missed this.”
“The petty name calling.” Buffy said, knowing exactly what her sister meant.
“A little. I miss us being like real sisters.” She straightened Buffy’s hair around her face. “So let’s make a deal, we both take care of one another.”
Was that how it could work between them?
Giles and Willow took the other Slayers across town, to stay at the cheapest and most apathetic hotel they could find. A group their size would bring up questions Willow knew wouldn’t be easily explained away.
They all bunched together into a tiny room, like sardines or cockroaches - Willow thought she might have seen a cockroach scurry to shadow when they ventured across the parking lot. Willow couldn’t see anyone in charge, or at least with a ‘my name is…’ badge.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Kennedy’s hand pounded on the little bell, waiting for all of three seconds before leaning right over the counter to see if she could spot anyone herself. She caught sight of a motel clerk in her own little world, romance novel in hand. Kennedy coughed and the women looked up annoyance evident on both their faces. The woman's face quickly folded into a smile, as she stood up and strode towards the counter.
The clerk, Gina or so her name tag claimed, looked round at the whole group. “Quite a family you‘ve got?”
“We’re Mormons. You know big with monogamy but to several wives not just the one, more like five.” Willow stammered, the woman gave her a put out look.
“Okay, not asking for your life’s stories.” Gina looked more than ready to go back to her book. “How many rooms do you want?”
She searched the group for someone besides Willow or Kennedy to address, her eyes flicked to Giles, deciding he was the one she get the most sense from. Kennedy took offence to her rejected authority.
“How many you got?” Kennedy asked cutting Giles off.
Buffy sat on her back porch at 1630 Revello Drive for what seemed like hours.
She knew if she was to just go inside she’d find it in the same condition as the porch. There wouldn’t be a single sign of a potential Slayer’s sleeping bag and maybe her mother would be there. She’d be sitting on the couch doing a crossword puzzle or helping Dawn with her homework. It would be home, hers, her mom’s and Dawn’s, there would be nobody else to intrude on them.
Still she couldn’t go inside, the place was only a dead shell. She wanted to be there all the same but all that was a lie, Dawn was never meant to be and her mom was long dead and their home would be nothing more than dust and ash. If she went in there, it would mock her with its beauty and simplicity of years past. She couldn’t face those ghosts; let them be locked in there where they were happy and safe.
The wooden boards groaned under the weight of heavy boots. Spike always showed up when she couldn’t bear the loneliness.
He sat next to her. The faint acidic tang of smoke and old beaten leather followed him. He tilted his head up towards the sky his features bathed in light. The morning was a good look for him.
“Sky seems like it should be cloudy.” She said, looking up with him.
“Doesn’t look it but it is.”
She heard noises from her kitchen, people talking, with voices she once knew. Dawn and her friends; she had stood by them, against them and so much of both, but now what was now?
“It’s not just that they need you, you need them, they’re you’re family.”
“Maybe I don’t want that, not anymore.” She noticed how close his hand was to hers but he didn’t reach towards her.
“World’s at your feet, not on your shoulders, so it’s entirely up to you.”
“I have choice. I was never good with multiple choice questions before.”
He looked away. “You know that I have to--.” He nodded toward where the garden ended and night started, where the neat back-yard ended and thicket of trees sprung. The moon above dampened by mist.
She looked him square in the eyes. “Go? I knew that one.” She signalled him to go-ahead with a swipe of her arm. She let him leave. He stopped for a moment, shoulders tense, but he never looked back at her.
She looked towards her back door. She couldn’t tell what they were saying, it could have been a different language. If she did follow Spike, who’d take care of them but she went anyway.
She moved into a clearing, branches and rotted vegetation gave under foot.
“Your friends aren’t here.” Spike said, and she shrugged.
“Maybe that’s why I’m here.”
She took Spike’s hand in hers, the pain hit and she had to let go like before and his hand slipped from hers.
Buffy turned back to look at the house - the roof and brick holding the warmth within. She shivered.
Her home was closer than she realised it was. She could see through the kitchen window. They were all sat around eating breakfast, a place was set for her.
They’re waiting for me. Do I want that? Her mind was already made for her, the woods and Spike were already gone.
“Buffy.” Dawn said and tugged on Buffy’s arm, jarring her closer to consciousness.
Buffy’s eyelids slid open. Her vision came into focus to be dazzled by the lights of the hospital, she hoped that image wouldn’t be burned on the back of her retinas for all eternity.
“Hah?” Buffy finally gasped.
“You nodded off.” Dawn said.
Buffy noticed Xander standing to the side of them. On meeting their gazes Xander seemed to yank himself out his obvious grief.
“Nice nap Buff.” He grimaced, something that could have been interpreted as a grin, by somebody who didn’t know him. “You spoiled anyone else's chance to get some rest all that snoring you did.”
“I don’t snore.” Buffy said. She looked at the clock on the wall - Giles would be back soon to pick them up. She needed some air.
Hospitals were not good things, okay they patched people up but Faith knew there were things about a person that could never be fixed.
A nurse had made a crack about her being the doting girlfriend as she sat at Robin’s bedside; Faith had to leave at that point. She doubted the woman would be looking so adoringly on the couple if she’d known one of them was a murderer.
She lit herself another cigarette; it was her last one, she cursed a future when she would be without nicotine. It calmed her nerves, and she needed that. She exhaled.
A door opened behind her before it was closed with care. She turned to see Buffy leaning back against the door with her head tilted back.
“It hurts like hell, right?” Faith speculated aloud. Buffy noticed her for the first time and came over.
“Like something flammable and searing, other than that, I’m 5 by 5.”
“My phrase, what does it mean to you?”
“I’m not sure, which fits.” She finally made eye contact with Faith. “How’s Wood doing?”
“They say fine, but he’s not woken up yet, probably all the drugs they're pumping through him.”
“Wood’s a great guy,” Buffy smiled at her. “Maybe you need that.”
Faith mashed her cigarette on the wall. “Yeah, maybe.”
“You could try and make it work, wacky idea I know.” Faith wondered not for the first time in her life if the entire world was conspiring against her. She’d been told in prison she thought like that too much. But everyone seemed to be pushing the couple angle with her.
“You know me, always up for a challenge.” Buffy sat next to Faith on the wall - neither wanted to speak the next words
“I shouldn’t have left him, Spike I mean.” Buffy confessed. Faith wondered how things might have been different, if she and Buffy had ended up friends, they’d probably never be but it didn’t stop Faith from being able to understand Buffy if only vaguely.
“He wasn’t going to leave.” Faith said. “And he would have wanted you to go on. You know you did what you should, first rule to being a Slayer is not dying.” Faith’s sympathy turned to smugness. “And on last count you’ve died twice, does that make me the better Slayer?”
“Don’t push it.”
Dawn stepped out of a bathroom stall and washed her hands. The smell of bleach was even worse in here than it was in the rest of the hospital, it reminded Buffy of all the times the two of them had spent inside a hospital. The doctors couldn’t save her mom; Buffy couldn’t save her mom - she hoped Robin Wood and the girls all did better.
Buffy thought she’d seen someone else in the hallway, someone she hadn’t been able to save - Cassie - but then again it could have been some other girl, all she’d seen was the back of her head.
“You should go get that looked at.” Dawn said, shaking water off her hands.
“It’s nothing.” Buffy said and yanked her shirt back over her wound.
“Well nothing looks like it’s about to hemorrhage all over the floor.” Dawn had already told her to get it looked at by a professional; Buffy couldn’t think of anyone more acquainted with woundage than herself but Dawn wasn’t about to give up, Buffy knew this because they were both the same in that respect.
“I’ve taken worse, much worse.” Buffy made her way to the door.
“I just want to take care of you.”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be take care of you.”
“Well you aren’t going to if you’re dead,” Dawn said. “You’re not a good care-giver when you’re dead.” Buffy looked at Dawn, she sometimes forgot that Dawn was so young, with all that they’d been through, Buffy also had to be reminded that she was still young herself.
“Buffy your hand!” Dawn caught sight of Buffy’s burn, she lifted her palm slowly into the light, it would heal. “You need to get it looked at.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “What happened?”
“Got set on fire.” Buffy said, her eyes gradually meet Dawn’s. Dawn seemed to be looking for more of an explanation.
Buffy gave in. She couldn’t deal with the interrogation of the century she knew would come otherwise. “I touched Spike’s hand, our hands ignited.” She paused. “I didn’t let go, straight away.” She didn’t feel comfortable with the conversation. Her feelings were as raw as they had ever been. She wasn’t ashamed that she had loved Spike, it had been love - she’d been sure enough to tell him after all but still she’d never felt comfortable putting that particular word to anything. It was a word so over used, it been burnt to a crisp, much worse than her hand could ever have been.
“I forgave him,” Dawn admitted. “I thought that you should know that.”
“So you didn’t hate him, because all the things you said before were convincing--”
“No, hello former head of the Spike fan club.” Dawn smiled wickedly lighting the mood. “You know I liked him first. You totally stole him from me. Just like RJ at school.”
“That was a spell, plus I‘m the pretty one.” Buffy’s mouth twitched reluctantly into a grin.
“Mom always said I was the pretty one.”
“So, a fake memory, constructed by the monks to make you feel better because I’m hotter than you.”
“You’re just over compensating for your hair.” Dawn said. “You have mom hair!”
“At least I don’t have big bug eyes.”
“I do not,” Dawn blinked in horror. “I missed this.”
“The petty name calling.” Buffy said, knowing exactly what her sister meant.
“A little. I miss us being like real sisters.” She straightened Buffy’s hair around her face. “So let’s make a deal, we both take care of one another.”
Was that how it could work between them?
++++
Giles and Willow took the other Slayers across town, to stay at the cheapest and most apathetic hotel they could find. A group their size would bring up questions Willow knew wouldn’t be easily explained away.
They all bunched together into a tiny room, like sardines or cockroaches - Willow thought she might have seen a cockroach scurry to shadow when they ventured across the parking lot. Willow couldn’t see anyone in charge, or at least with a ‘my name is…’ badge.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Kennedy’s hand pounded on the little bell, waiting for all of three seconds before leaning right over the counter to see if she could spot anyone herself. She caught sight of a motel clerk in her own little world, romance novel in hand. Kennedy coughed and the women looked up annoyance evident on both their faces. The woman's face quickly folded into a smile, as she stood up and strode towards the counter.
The clerk, Gina or so her name tag claimed, looked round at the whole group. “Quite a family you‘ve got?”
“We’re Mormons. You know big with monogamy but to several wives not just the one, more like five.” Willow stammered, the woman gave her a put out look.
“Okay, not asking for your life’s stories.” Gina looked more than ready to go back to her book. “How many rooms do you want?”
She searched the group for someone besides Willow or Kennedy to address, her eyes flicked to Giles, deciding he was the one she get the most sense from. Kennedy took offence to her rejected authority.
“How many you got?” Kennedy asked cutting Giles off.
++++
Buffy sat on her back porch at 1630 Revello Drive for what seemed like hours.
She knew if she was to just go inside she’d find it in the same condition as the porch. There wouldn’t be a single sign of a potential Slayer’s sleeping bag and maybe her mother would be there. She’d be sitting on the couch doing a crossword puzzle or helping Dawn with her homework. It would be home, hers, her mom’s and Dawn’s, there would be nobody else to intrude on them.
Still she couldn’t go inside, the place was only a dead shell. She wanted to be there all the same but all that was a lie, Dawn was never meant to be and her mom was long dead and their home would be nothing more than dust and ash. If she went in there, it would mock her with its beauty and simplicity of years past. She couldn’t face those ghosts; let them be locked in there where they were happy and safe.
The wooden boards groaned under the weight of heavy boots. Spike always showed up when she couldn’t bear the loneliness.
He sat next to her. The faint acidic tang of smoke and old beaten leather followed him. He tilted his head up towards the sky his features bathed in light. The morning was a good look for him.
“Sky seems like it should be cloudy.” She said, looking up with him.
“Doesn’t look it but it is.”
She heard noises from her kitchen, people talking, with voices she once knew. Dawn and her friends; she had stood by them, against them and so much of both, but now what was now?
“It’s not just that they need you, you need them, they’re you’re family.”
“Maybe I don’t want that, not anymore.” She noticed how close his hand was to hers but he didn’t reach towards her.
“World’s at your feet, not on your shoulders, so it’s entirely up to you.”
“I have choice. I was never good with multiple choice questions before.”
He looked away. “You know that I have to--.” He nodded toward where the garden ended and night started, where the neat back-yard ended and thicket of trees sprung. The moon above dampened by mist.
She looked him square in the eyes. “Go? I knew that one.” She signalled him to go-ahead with a swipe of her arm. She let him leave. He stopped for a moment, shoulders tense, but he never looked back at her.
She looked towards her back door. She couldn’t tell what they were saying, it could have been a different language. If she did follow Spike, who’d take care of them but she went anyway.
She moved into a clearing, branches and rotted vegetation gave under foot.
“Your friends aren’t here.” Spike said, and she shrugged.
“Maybe that’s why I’m here.”
She took Spike’s hand in hers, the pain hit and she had to let go like before and his hand slipped from hers.
Buffy turned back to look at the house - the roof and brick holding the warmth within. She shivered.
Her home was closer than she realised it was. She could see through the kitchen window. They were all sat around eating breakfast, a place was set for her.
They’re waiting for me. Do I want that? Her mind was already made for her, the woods and Spike were already gone.
++++
“Buffy.” Dawn said and tugged on Buffy’s arm, jarring her closer to consciousness.
Buffy’s eyelids slid open. Her vision came into focus to be dazzled by the lights of the hospital, she hoped that image wouldn’t be burned on the back of her retinas for all eternity.
“Hah?” Buffy finally gasped.
“You nodded off.” Dawn said.
Buffy noticed Xander standing to the side of them. On meeting their gazes Xander seemed to yank himself out his obvious grief.
“Nice nap Buff.” He grimaced, something that could have been interpreted as a grin, by somebody who didn’t know him. “You spoiled anyone else's chance to get some rest all that snoring you did.”
“I don’t snore.” Buffy said. She looked at the clock on the wall - Giles would be back soon to pick them up. She needed some air.
++++
Hospitals were not good things, okay they patched people up but Faith knew there were things about a person that could never be fixed.
A nurse had made a crack about her being the doting girlfriend as she sat at Robin’s bedside; Faith had to leave at that point. She doubted the woman would be looking so adoringly on the couple if she’d known one of them was a murderer.
She lit herself another cigarette; it was her last one, she cursed a future when she would be without nicotine. It calmed her nerves, and she needed that. She exhaled.
A door opened behind her before it was closed with care. She turned to see Buffy leaning back against the door with her head tilted back.
“It hurts like hell, right?” Faith speculated aloud. Buffy noticed her for the first time and came over.
“Like something flammable and searing, other than that, I’m 5 by 5.”
“My phrase, what does it mean to you?”
“I’m not sure, which fits.” She finally made eye contact with Faith. “How’s Wood doing?”
“They say fine, but he’s not woken up yet, probably all the drugs they're pumping through him.”
“Wood’s a great guy,” Buffy smiled at her. “Maybe you need that.”
Faith mashed her cigarette on the wall. “Yeah, maybe.”
“You could try and make it work, wacky idea I know.” Faith wondered not for the first time in her life if the entire world was conspiring against her. She’d been told in prison she thought like that too much. But everyone seemed to be pushing the couple angle with her.
“You know me, always up for a challenge.” Buffy sat next to Faith on the wall - neither wanted to speak the next words
“I shouldn’t have left him, Spike I mean.” Buffy confessed. Faith wondered how things might have been different, if she and Buffy had ended up friends, they’d probably never be but it didn’t stop Faith from being able to understand Buffy if only vaguely.
“He wasn’t going to leave.” Faith said. “And he would have wanted you to go on. You know you did what you should, first rule to being a Slayer is not dying.” Faith’s sympathy turned to smugness. “And on last count you’ve died twice, does that make me the better Slayer?”
“Don’t push it.”
++++
