full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
 
Chp 21 Mothers and daughters
 
<<     >>
 
Something to Sing About

Chapter : Mothers and daughters


Joyce Summers pulled Buffy close and hugged her. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again! ”

Buffy shut her eyes, feeling the world swirling around her. This was Mom! - the feel of her arms, the smell of her hair and the powder on her face. She was wearing a perfume Buffy didn’t recognize but as the tears began to trickle down Buffy’s face, she realised that she could even feel her mom’s heart beating.

Yes this Joyce was alive and holding her, kissing her cheek and Buffy thought she would die from the combination of grief and happiness.

She couldn’t bear it! Before, when she’d first discovered this reality, a Sunnydale that was so similar and yet different in such vital aspects, Joyce had been away, staying with her sister who suffered from poor health.

Buffy had spoken to her briefly a couple of times on the phone and even that had been weird, but she’d firmly put the fact of having two mothers out of her head.

There had been too much going on – marrying Spike, discovering Cordelia’s nasty little secret, killing Angel, deciding she had to go back although everything in her pleaded to stay here…

But this time it was different because Joyce had died back in the “real” world and a little of Buffy had died too.

Buffy had attempted to cope with the devastation of feeling so alone, bereft, abandoned. She’d even coped with the dreadful anger that sometimes flooded through her, anger towards the mom who’d left her.

She’d tried to look after Dawn, as her mom would have expected. She’d tried. But she still missed her, every single day, as much as ever. And now here was mom, alive and well, wearing an expensive green jacket and skirt that looked marvellous on her. And the house was alive and happy.

Buffy started to raise her arms to hug, then stopped, her hands fluttering like two sad birds in mid air behind Joyce’s back. No, she couldn’t! If she once gave in to the joy, the overwhelming sensation of being loved, if she once admitted that this was her mom, how would she cope if this Joyce died?

Joyce pushed her daughter away a little, holding her shoulders gently and looked at her, frowning, her eyes puzzled. “Hmm, okay, not quite the enthusiastic greeting I’d expected. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The reply was quite automatic; perhaps she’d been making it in both worlds for years. But what was the alternative. “Everything,” would just about sum it up, but her mom didn’t want to hear that. Buffy was certain that Joyce was keen to know that her daughter was fine; that she was happy and leading a fulfilling and worthwhile life.

Not that she was heartbroken and disgusted with her own behaviour. That she had lost the man she loved because she hadn’t trusted in happiness enough to keep going until all hope was finally gone.

“Buffy – you look dreadful and you sound worse. Nothing isn’t an adequate answer.”

“Jeez, you certainly know how to make a girl feel great, Mom!”

Joyce brushed her words aside. “Look, I’m only here in Sunnydale for a flying visit. I have to get back to your aunt. She needs me.”

‘I need you too,’ Buffy thought angrily, turning away, unable to look too long at a face she had thought she would never see again. ‘I needed you when you died. I needed you to look after Dawn and be there for me. You left me all alone. You had no right to die!’

“So – is it Spike?”

“What?” Her husband’s name brought her back to reality.

Joyce sighed. “Buffy, I’ve known you worried to the point of despair about demons and vampires and different apocalypses, but you only have that certain expression on your face when you’ve had a row with Spike.”

Buffy took a jar of pickles from the fridge and fished one out with her fingers. She bit into the juicy acid flesh, relishing the tang of vinegar in her mouth.

Joyce’s eyes widened slightly and her look of irritation turned to puzzled concern. “Look, sweetheart, come and sit down and tell me what’s been going on. The two of you love each other too much to let some silly argument split you up.”

She sat on the sofa and Buffy flung herself onto the floor at her feet, resting her head against her mom’s legs. She felt gentle fingers stroking her head and for a second allowed herself to shut her eyes and pretend that this was really Mommy.
And of course, it was! In this world this was Mom, but as with so much else, the Joyce of this Sunnydale was slightly different. She was a smarter, more elegant version. Buffy knew she’d been a successful businesswoman and had only sold her antique shop when she’d left town to care for her sister.

Buffy took a deep breath. This mom knew all about vampires and Slayers, another reality wouldn’t worry her. “Well, you see, I know it sounds kind of weird, but there’s this other Sunnydale where everything and everyone are alike, but not quite. In that world, time moves really fast, Spike and me are absolute enemies, Willow is gay and in love with Tara and Xander likes this totally old demon girl called Anya. Oh yes, and you’ve got a daughter called Dawn who’s really just a lot of green energy sent for us to look after and I died and came back to life and oh, yes, you’re dead! A couple of years ago, the Willow there opened a portal to this world and Spike and I came through ….”

…..“And so Spike obviously prefers Faith and I’ve lost him and it’s all my fault!” Buffy ended the story on a wail of pure grief.

There was a long silence. Joyce let the news that she had died in another life swim to the front of her brain for a few seconds, then she resolutely pushed it away. Not her problem. Nor was any of the vampire business. She’d learnt many years ago, when Buffy was first called, to compartmentalize her life.

She left the vampire world to her daughter whom she knew was superb at everything to do with Slaying, but when it came to relationships, Joyce knew Buffy still had a great deal to learn.

She got up and poured Buffy a glass of milk, watching keenly as her daughter drank it down without pausing. “So why didn’t you just tell Spike that you thought this Ben had killed him when you got back here and found him alive?”

Buffy hugged her knees to her chest, scratching at the dirt encrusted in the grain of the denim. “I’m not sure. I – well – I suppose I just thought I could tell him once I’d got him better again.”

“Or did you hope he’d never find out?”

“I don’t know. It’s all so complicated.”
Joyce smiled. “Nothing new there, then. Come on, Buffy. Is this a Slayer problem, or a Buffy problem?”

Buffy took a deep breath. “How can you separate the two? Aren’t they both me?”
“No, they’re chalk and cheese. My Slayer daughter knows exactly what to do and when to do it. She’s brave, clever and determined. She follows her head and doesn’t often make a wrong decision. My Buffy daughter follows her heart, doubts herself too much and, what is worse, doubts those that love her most.”

Silence filled the room for a while, then Buffy said quietly, “I reckon Slayer Buffy and Daughter Buffy have ended up with a skanky chalky cheesey mess somewhere along the way. I made what I thought were the right decisions to save Gracie from Ben – I’m not sorry about that - but why didn’t I just come straight back once the baby arrived? Why did I believe Spike was dead, without even checking?”

“You thought there was no chance he was alive.”

Buffy laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Oh, so if you believed I was in mortal danger, you’d just accept it and go on with your life without finding out one way or the other? I don’t think so! I abandoned him, Mom! I just couldn’t – couldn’t – “

“Accept that he had gone? Perhaps all the time you were in this other Sunnydale, even though you told yourself he was dead, there was some little part of you that never truly accepted it. So you couldn’t come back because then you might have discovered the final truth.”

Buffy got to her feet, wishing she didn’t feel so tired. “The final truth? About me and Spike? That’s something I don’t think I will ever know. Well, Buffy the wife has made a complete mess of her life but at least Buffy the Slayer can get on with her job.”
Joyce sighed. “Buffy! You make me so cross. You’re doing exactly the same thing again! Stop running away from the truth. You still don’t know for sure that Spike is with Faith now or how he feels about what happened. Why won’t you believe that he loves you? You’re forgetting, I’ve known Spike as long as you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

Buffy bit her lip, then turned and pulled her tangled hair off her face and tied it as tightly as she could, welcoming the pain as it tugged at the skin on her temples. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.

Joyce picked up the empty milk glass and carried it into the kitchen. She felt she’d failed to make any impression. The stubborn expression on her daughter’s face was far too familiar to mistake. “So, what would your other mom have said to you?”

“What?”

“Your other mother, the me who died in that Sunnydale. What advice do you think she would she have given you about Spike?”

Buffy flinched at the brusqueness of Joyce’s remark. She knew the voice would have been the same, but she was certain the tone would have been softer, more sympathetic, warmer. Or would it? Her mom in the other reality had liked Spike, too. Which was mega weird because in that world he wasn’t part of the family set up. He was detested by her friends, an annoying vampire they put up with because he could be useful.

But there was no denying that her mom had liked him. Buffy felt a little smile flicker across her face as she recalled mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows.
“Pretty much the same as you,” she admitted ruefully. “But what do you want me to do? Go running after him, like some lovesick kid? Beg him to leave Faith and come back to me? I can’t do that, Mom. If he prefers her to me, then – “

She jumped as the glass in Joyce’s hand smashed against the side of the sink and shattered. “Buffy Summers! Stop it! A lovesick kid is just what you’re acting like right now! Stop worrying about your stupid pride, or what he’ll think or any of the hundred and fifty other excuses I’m sure you can come up with. And if you want to know what to say to him, how about telling him that you’re having a baby!”

tbc








 
<<     >>