Interlude: The Chair





“Come on, Buff. It can’t be that bad…I added a lift in the hallway. No more pesky stairs when you’re totally schnookered…and hey - getting around’s gonna be so much easier with the-“ He was trying but…



“Don’t say it!” Buffy snapped, her eyes flashing angrily. She watched dispassionately as the boy dropped back a couple of steps, a weary sigh escaping his lips as he inched closer to the door.



Closer to the escape she knew they all wanted from her.



It was Xander this time. He was the week’s third attempt, in what she envisioned would be a long line of irritation.



“Don’t you think you should at least try it?” Xander squeaked out, jumping as Buffy growled and swung her limp legs over the side of the bed so that she faced the window.



And so that her back was to him; shutting him out.



In the cold…along with her mum, sister and her Watcher.



Buffy rolled her eyes, barely noticing the tears as they slid down her heated cheeks, when she heard the door close behind the whelp.



He left in silence – left her in silence. They couldn’t handle it…they just expected her to bounce back. Fuck the fact that her body was irrevocably broken, that her world was gone. She’d ignored her pain in the past; pushed aside her inner turmoil to make them happy for another day.



They just couldn’t contemplate the fact that maybe, just maybe, this time her mind had been screwed with once too often…



She’d given up so much.



But they didn’t care – the world just kept on taking. But in such a way that she was never offered that sweet release she’d been promised.



They took her world, her identity, her time…her body.



There was nothing left, but they just couldn’t accept that. They just kept on trying to take more, even though she was way past empty.



Buffy wasn’t sure who ‘they’ were. But she knew they didn’t care.



Her fists clenched once again as she recalled her mother’s cavalier anger at her attitude.



“Why can’t you just try?! This isn’t just happening to you – it’s on all of us! We’re trying to help, damnit!”



“Bullshit…” Buffy had hissed, her fists clenching. “It’s all happening to me. Just like it always happens to me! Time after time I save the world…for what? Nothing! Angel’s in LA…a demon for hundreds of years; he’s murdered millions of people…but the fucking Power’s That Be safeguard him. What did I do to deserve this?”



Her mother had had no answer.

The following day Giles hadn’t known how to answer….knowing that he had no answer. How often in the past couple of months had he asked himself that very question? Hundreds? Thousands?



Buffy snorted, flinging a hateful look at the metallic object in the corner before resigning herself to lying down on her bed. There was nothing else she could do.



No-where else she could go.



---



“We could dress it up. I-I-I mean, if you wanted us to. I promise I won’t use any orange felt.” The Witch tried to smile, but the movement couldn’t quite be forced upon her melancholy features.



Buffy said nothing, instead letting out a scornful laugh as she glared at the red-head, safely in the arms of her lover.



*Yup, score two for lesbian lovers. Just show the invalid how alone she really is!*



Willow shuddered, sinking back into Tara for comfort, as the look her best friend shot her send her flying back to her High School days, when she’d been nothing more powerful then the school nerd; being picked on day in and day out.



“B-Buffy, Willow’s j-just trying to help.” Tara put in quietly.



“Yeah!” Buffy stated scornfully. “There’s one thing she could do to help…but noooo, she can’t do that! How many times have I saved her ass? I never asked for so much as a thank-you…but she doesn’t wanna even try to help me.”



Buffy turned away from them as best she could. “Some friend you are.”



“I tried, Buffy!” Willow cried, falling out of Tara’s embrace to land on her knees close to the Slayer. “I begged the Gods to help…I prayed-“



“Prayed!” Buffy rolled her eyes at the inadequacy of such a gesture. “Well, thank god for that!” She exclaimed sarcastically.



Willow was crying by this point, but Buffy didn’t seem to notice or care. The Wicca continued to babble apologies but all the Slayer heard were excuses.



A few moments later, Tara came forward. She gathered her lover up to her feet, and gently led her out of the room, murmuring to Buffy. “We’ll come visit you tomorrow.”



“Whatever.” Buffy spat violently. She heard the door shut, and flung a pillow from her bed at the offending wood. Her eyes stared at the wall as she listened to the sound of her mother apologising to Willow, and the red head apologising to Joyce.



It was only when she heard Tara’s car pull away from their drive did she allow the tears to fall. It was only now, while she was allowed this reprieve that she could grieve for her actions.



She knew what she was doing wasn’t fair to her friends and family. But she couldn’t let them continue to grow attached to her. This way was better.



She knew the plan by heart; had thought of it and not much else since she was told the truth about her limbs.



Eventually they’d leave her alone.



Eventually they’d forget her.



And then…and only then could she take the release that she so longed for…but one that she had been denied.



But she was still the Slayer at heart.



Faith’s words returned to her.



Want. Take. Have.



Well, she wanted death.



And soon she would take it.





TBC ASAP in.... CHapter Five :: Therapy?

A/N: Just wanted to say a big thanks for my lovely reviewers fallen_angel, vladt, Lou, slaymesoftly, Spikes Slayer2!

I hope everyone enjoyed this little interlude. I'm afriad I'm without internet access for a little while, but as soon as it's back I'll be back with hopefully a swift update!