Title: Childhood Trauma

Author: Jeanny

E-mail: jeannygrrl@hotmail.com

Rating: PG

Spoilers: None

Distribution/Archive: Go right ahead, if you like, just let me know where it's going. Like all my stories, it's archived at https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/crazymeltyland.

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series and all the characters that appear on the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, The WB, UPN, Mutant Enemy, Inc. and any one else with a legal binding claim to the shows and/or characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

Feedback: Would be much appreciated.

Summary: What if at age seven Buffy was already having prophetic dreams? And what if she was brought to a special dream therapy program...in Sunnydale?

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Buffy watched through the glass as her parents talked softly to the doctor. She pretended to be absorbed in watching the other children, and in a way she was. It was the biggest room Buffy had ever seen; no amount of cheerful drawings and shelves of books and toys could make it seem totally comfortable because of its size. It had to be big, because there were a lot of children. More than Buffy could count, and she was good with her counting. Some were playing together, but most were strangely solitary, coloring or reading or staring into space. Almost all of them looked sad, and it made her want to cry. Well, even more than she already did. Buffy bit her lip and steeled herself. She wasn't a baby and she wouldn't cry. Crying is part of what got her here in the first place.

"I'm just not sure," her mother fretted, and Buffy tuned in carefully while still scanning the room of children.

"I know this is hard," the doctor answered, and Buffy heard the sympathy in the woman's voice for what it was: completely fake. "But from everything you've told me, I really think Buffy will benefit from our program. We've helped a lot of children here, Mr. and Mrs. Summers. Children like your daughter."

"There sure are a lot of them in there," Hank said with a shaky laugh. "I had no idea this problem even existed. I mean, bad dreams...everyone has them."

"Yes, of course," the doctor answered, and Buffy shivered at the brief iciness in her tone, "Nightmares aren't uncommon. But from what you and your wife have told me, Buffy's nightmares have begun to affect her behavior. You said that she's become more withdrawn, moody, her schoolwork has suffered."

"She won't talk about it," Joyce confirmed. "She started to, once, but what she was saying made no sense..."

"Dr. Ephor, we just want to do what's best for our daughter," Hank said, and Buffy had to bite her lip harder at the tremor she heard in her father's voice. Her daddy sounded like he was going to cry. Her parents were worried about her, a lot. She knew that, but she still wished they hadn't found out about this place.

Buffy didn't like it here. Not in this building, and definitely not in Sunnydale, California. On the trip over, her mother had joked about moving here, it seemed so inviting, and Buffy had nearly burst into tears. Only fear of having to explain herself had kept the tears at bay. There was no way for her to explain that Sunnydale looked like a good place, but it wasn't. Buffy could tell. She'd always been able to do that, and she'd always known somehow that her parents couldn't, and that she shouldn't tell them. Buffy shivered again, and the three adults suddenly seemed to remember she was there. She felt her mom's gentle touch on her shoulder and she looked up at her.

"Are you cold, sweetie?" her mom asked, and Buffy nodded. She wasn't, of course, but it was a better explanation for the shiver than the truth, certainly. She felt bad telling lies to her parents, but the truth was...simply impossible for a seven year-old to explain. The nightmares were about real things that either had already happened or were going to happen. Things Buffy couldn't possibly know about, but did. And it was all real, not make-believe. Buffy didn't know how she could be so sure of that, but she was. Her mother helped her slip on the sweater and button it, her eyes bright with sudden tears.

"Do you want to go in and play, Buffy?" the doctor asked with false sweetness. Buffy stole a glance back at the woman, repressing another shiver. The doctor wasn't a good person, she knew that much. All adults look gigantic to a child of seven, but Dr. Ephor towered over even Buffy's dad, making him seem small by comparison. Her mousy brown hair was drawn back into a bun, and her thin lips curled into what was supposed to be a comforting smile, but her eyes glittered coldly. They were so dark they were practically black, and Buffy was scared most of all by the understanding that she'd seen those eyes before. Those eyes were part of the reason she was here.

Doctor Ephor was terrifying, but Buffy's parents didn't seem to find her scary, taking comfort in her assurances. Buffy frowned at her parents. Her mom and dad were holding hands, looking so lost and frightened that Buffy was reluctant to leave them. She looked back into the room of children, and her eyes were drawn to a far corner she hadn't looked in before. There were two children sitting there, a boy and a girl, at a table they had drawn as far away from the others as they could. The girl seemed so small and frail that initially Buffy had thought she might still be a baby, but watching her stick her tongue just slightly out of her mouth as she colored so carefully, she realized she was older, Buffy's age even. The girl's long copper hair was pulled into a ponytail that the boy played with idly, earning himself a small smile and a shooing hand from her before she returned to her drawing. The boy was definitely older, and bigger. His dark hair fell across his forehead like a mop as he glared at anyone who dared come near them, not that anyone did or cared. When she wasn't looking in his direction he was watching his friend, his expression full of concern. Unlike the other kids in the room, who seemed to be trying to avoid contact with each other even when they were playing together, these two were trying to stay as close as possible. Buffy could see they were holding hands, and she had the feeling they hadn't let go the whole time they were there. Suddenly the girl looked up and met her gaze steadily. Buffy subconsciously took a step back.

"Buffy?" she heard her mother call uncertainly. Buffy ignored her, the haunted look in the girl's eyes was too compelling. A moment later the girl's lips moved, and despite the distance Buffy knew exactly what she had just said. It was like she'd heard it in her mind at the moment the redheaded girl spoke.

*Help us.*

"I wanna play, Mommy," Buffy said hastily, giving her mother and father each a quick hug and kiss.

"Okay, honey," her dad said, bewildered as she bounded into the room. She was heading straight for the girl and her friend in the corner, but then something stopped her. She looked back and saw Dr. Ephor watching her, her lip curling unpleasantly. Buffy saw an unused coloring book and crayons on a nearby table and settled down, her back to the door and the prying eyes of the doctor. She began to absently color a picture, still feeling those eyes on her back. Then just as surely she knew that they were gone. Probably her parents with some more questions or fears. It didn't matter, as long as she could talk to the red-haired girl that needed her help. She approached cautiously, as the boy turned his baleful eye upon her.

"Go 'way," he growled, like a lion protecting its cub. The girl didn't look up, her face turned down to her drawing.

"Why?" Buffy asked, and the question seemed to surprise him. He considered her for a moment.

"'Cause," he finally said, seeming to be satisfied with his answer. Buffy shrugged.

"I don't wanna," she said, hands on hips. She saw his grip on the redhead tighten.

"She don't want you here."

"You're a liar."

"Nuh-uh!" the boy cried, outraged.

"Uh-huh," Buffy countered. "Liar, liar, pants on fire."

"You leave us alone," he hissed. "I can make you."

"Why you 'fraid of me?" she asked teasingly and he blinked in surprise.

"Am not 'fraid of you!" he insisted.

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

At this the girl finally looked up. To Buffy's pleased surprise, she shook her head and rolled her eyes, giving them both a small smile. Then she motioned to the empty chair in front of her. Buffy immediately sat, giving the boy a smug look, including a quick sticking out of the tongue for good measure. The boy looked at his friend in surprise, and she met his gaze steadily. They said nothing, yet Buffy thought it looked like they were fighting, and the girl was winning. Finally he shrugged.

"Fine. You can sit with us, but you better be nice."

"Okay," Buffy agreed cheerfully. "I'm Buffy."

"I'm Xander," he said, still a touch sullenly, "and she's Willow." Willow looked up and gave her a quick sunny smile, gone so fast Buffy thought she might have imagined it. Buffy's brow furrowed.

"Why'd ya talk for her?"

"Willow don't talk to nobody but me." Willow gave him a reproachful look, and he said to her, "You do so talk to me! Just cause it's not in words and..." She continued to stare at him and he caved. "Fine. She just don't talk." Willow gave him a raised eyebrow, and he hastily amended, "Doesn't talk."

"Why not?" Buffy asked, addressing the question to Willow. The girl looked up at her and shrugged, then glanced at Xander. Buffy looked at him as well. "Can't she talk?"

"Of course she can," Xander bristled. "Willow's smart. She just don't wanna no more."

"Oh," Buffy said, unsure what to do now. She had come over sure that this girl needed her, but she had no idea what she needed her to do. Willow grabbed Xander's arm and jerked her head towards Buffy, nodding so vigorously that Buffy thought her head might come off. Xander seemed surprised.

"She wants me to tell you," he said in a stage whisper, and Buffy instinctively drew herself closer. "Willow don't talk cause she's scared. And cause when she told they sent her here. Nobody believes her. Nobody but me," he added, throwing an affectionate and possessive arm around the girl's shoulder.

"I'll believe her," Buffy said, and she knew it was true. Willow eyed her hopefully. "What'd she tell? What's she so 'fraid of?"

"The monsters," Xander said, as Willow solemnly slid her drawing forward. Buffy looked down at Willow's drawing. It was two men, men with yellow faces and dark eyes and large pointed teeth like walruses. "They think she dreamed 'em, but she's seen 'em. They're real." Buffy looked up, her face white. She slid the paper back, her hand trembling slightly.

"I've seen them too." At this, Xander reached out and grabbed her hand as well, concern and fear knitting his brow.

"Where?"

"I did dream them. I dreamed them, and that doctor lady...and other stuff, too. That's why I'm here." Xander jerked his hand away suspiciously.

"You're making fun!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

Willow stopped this one by slamming her palm down on the picture angrily and shaking her head at both of them. Xander sighed.

"She doesn't want us to fight," he said. Off of another pleading look from the redhead, he added, "She says she believes you, too." Willow's other hand crept towards Buffy, and she took it. Then she reached out her free hand towards Xander. He stared at it for a long moment, then to her surprise he grabbed hold. He stared at her with a strange fixed concentration that made her feel funny, like he was really looking at her for the first time.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"You've got pretty hair," Xander said softly, turning red and looking down at the table. Buffy blushed and smiled, and he smiled back. Willow squeezed his hand to get his attention and nodded at Xander. "Will thinks so too."

"It's not as nice as Willow's," Buffy said. Willow smiled shyly. Buffy frowned at Xander. "How come you're here? Bad dreams too?"

"I said so. I lied. Will needed me," he said simply.

"You faked nightmares?" Buffy asked, remembering the look on her mom's face when she awoke screaming. Xander's expression became tight and sad.

"My mom and dad wouldna...I told the school nurse I had them." Willow gave him a reproachful look and he sighed. "And I kinda threw a fit. The school made my mom and dad bring me."

Willow gave him a grateful smile, then let go of Buffy's hand to point at her drawing again. She looked at Buffy questioningly.

"Right. Monsters. Tell me about them?" Buffy asked. Willow looked down at the table, biting her lip, and Xander frowned.

"You should tell her, Will." Under the encouraging gaze of her friends, old and new, Willow opened her mouth-

"Well, how are we doing over here?" Dr. Ephor's voice sounded loudly with false cheer, and the children froze.

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