"I think we should be heading back to Sunnydale shortly. Now that things have gone smoothly. I don't think we need to inconvenience Angel anymore." Giles removed his glasses and wiped them off with his handkerchief.
I for one was ecstatic. I wanted to get as far away from Angel and his possessive hands as I could. "When do we leave?"
"Whenever she's ready? Her own room and all that stuff. I think it'll really help her." Dawn was squirming in her seat at the end of the table, rolling a pen along the smooth surface.
"I'm ready." Buffy hovered above, very unsteadily at the top of the stairs. Her knees were rattling, but I doubted anyone else could hear them. She stumbled a little as she tried the stairs, and held firmly to the banister for balance, knuckles glaringly white. Tiny beads of sweat began to sprout upon her brow.
"Are you sure luv? I would have figured you'd want to stay here a little longer." I wanted to get up and help her, but that wasn't Buffy's way. At least not the old Buffy.
"I'm sure. I need to go home. We all need to go home." Her lips were quaking. "I want to leave tonight. Right now if we can."
"Are you sure, that that's uh wise Buffy? You were, well you were…"
"I was dead Giles, but I'm not anymore. And I'm doing alright I think." As she said the words, her left foot gave way, and she lurched down quickly with her right to avoid rolling downwards.
Xander ran from his seat, and went to assist her down the last couple of steps, but she shooed him away with her free hand. "Let me prove to myself I don't need help, please Xand?" I grinned a little. Still was able to predict her next move.
"Whatever you say Buff, but…"
"No buts. I'll do it if it has to be done. Buffy's motto." She did make it the rest of the way by herself, her barefoot feet carefully feeling their way across the cool marble. "How quickly can we get packed?" She doesn't really wait for an answer, as she stops noticing anyone else standing around her. She looks a little peaked.
It was a little odd, how quickly she wanted to leave the hotel, with that determination in her eyes of doing just that. Not as though she needed it, no one ever says no to Buffy.
"An hour tops. I'm ready to go. What about the rest of you?" Willow asked. Giles' nodded, but the others quickly went to push themselves away from the table and out of chairs. "Dawn, why don't you go put your stuff together. Xander, Anya, you guys can make it quick right?" Everyone headed upstairs, except for Buffy and me.
One of those awkward silences I've grown to know so well floats delicately to encase the two of us. She fidgets; her hands toying with her hair and her weight shifting back and forth from foot to foot. She's not looking at me, or anything it seems, her eyes slowly meandering about the mostly empty room.
"I like your skirt Buffy." Her fingers stroke the fabric, green and long, but she doesn't respond in any other way. Her eyes continue their unfocused spiral. It appears that maybe she's sleeping, or that she's drifted off someplace else. "What's with the whole Lady Macbeth act luv? Going to invoke some darkness, or ask to be unsexed, cause personally I wouldn't mind, but the whole comatose thing is getting a little odd."
I figured she'd laugh, or grant me a puzzled look, but she doesn't seem to even notice that I'm talking to her. Or that I'm there. I try again, hoping that she'll snap out of whatever's wrong with her. "What's with the rush to get out of here Slayer? Figured we'd hang around here a little longer than this. Quality time with some loved ones."
Something flickers behind her lids, and I stop speaking. Stop ruining it for myself. Not that it really matters, if it helps her, I'd shove her into Angel's bed myself. It's all for her, everything I do now is.
I run my fingers through my hair, undoing a good five minutes of combing. The silence returns more noticeable and oppressive than before.
She stops moving entirely, eyes gazing straight ahead, joints locked, one arm slightly higher than the other. "Buffy?"
I move closer to where she is standing; my hand about to touch her when a tiny yelp rips through the air, her body tumbling downwards, limbs all astray across the tile floor. Tears stream down her face unnoticed as she pounds the ground with wayward feet and hands. It stops as suddenly as it started her muscles relaxing as she slowly starts to slip out of the trance. She's still whimpering as I bend down to stroke back her hair.
"No, no, no. Don't take me back. No. Can't do it again. Please, no. No. No." She grabs onto me and pulls herself closer to my chest. "Don't let it. Don't let it be dark."
"Never luv. I swear." We sit there on the floor rocking back and forth, and even though I can feel Willow watching us from upstairs, she doesn't come down. She leaves us there, and I'll have to remember to thank her later.
