Chapter 6

Dr. Marshall glanced up from her paperwork to find a student hovering in her doorway. “Buffy? What are you doing here?”

“You have walk-ins today, right?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but… two sessions in two days seems like an awful lot for a girl who didn’t want to come here in the first place.”

“I almost died last night,” Buffy told her.

“Sit down,” Dr. Marshall said, immediately changing her demeanor. “What happened?”

Buffy eased into the chair on the other side of the desk. “I was fighting… I – I got mugged, and I was fighting back and then I just… gave up. And I thought it’d be easier if I just let him…” She shook her head. “A – a friend intervened and saved me. But I almost let him kill me.”

“Buffy, are you all right? You’re not hurt?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I just… hate feeling helpless. And I thought, if there’s nothing I can do… why bother?”

The counselor sat silently for a moment, studying Buffy, before she said hesitantly, “Have you thought about trying to find out who did this to you?”

“How?” Buffy asked doubtfully. “The police can’t investigate if there’s no evidence.”

“I’m not talking about the police. I’m talking about you.”

“What about me?”

“You… have something of a reputation in this town, Buffy.” Rebecca smiled. “You’re apparently quite a resourceful young lady. Maybe it would give you some closure to do a little investigating on your own. At the very least, it might make you feel more proactive and not so helpless.”

Buffy leaned back in her chair, thoughtful. “Closure, huh?”

*****

She knew that if she wanted to find out who had raped her, she would have to start asking questions, which meant she’d probably have to get used to talking about what had happened to her. And the first person who deserved to know was Riley.

She hadn’t seen him since the night she ran out on him, so she was more than a little nervous when she called and asked him to meet her at her dorm room. She’d made sure Willow was at the library, so they would have the privacy they needed.

Hearing the knock on the door, she took a deep breath to steady herself before answering it. “Hi,” she said, peering up at him in the doorway. She stepped aside. “Come in.”

“Buffy –”

“I know,” she said quickly. “I know my behavior was inexcusable, and I’m sorry. The thing is… there’s something I have to tell you.” She gestured for Riley to take a seat on Willow’s bed while she sat down on her own.

“Buffy, what is it?” Riley furrowed his brow, leaning forward earnestly.

“Remember the party at Lowell House?” When he nodded, she asked, “And you remember how I woke up in your room the next day?”

“Yeah… you said you weren’t feeling well, so you crashed there.”

Buffy bit her lip. “That’s not entirely true.” She focused her eyes on her hands in her lap. “I mean, I wasn’t feeling well, and I did stay there, but that night, in your room… someone…” Her voice hitched. “Someone raped me.”

When he didn’t respond right away, she mustered up the courage to look at him, and found his expression unreadable. “Riley? Say something.”

“God, Buffy, why didn’t you tell me? I thought…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” she replied honestly. “That’s why I’ve been acting like this, why I’ve been avoiding you. I just can’t… be intimate with you. I can’t really remember any of it, but every touch reminds me…”

“Buffy, I’m sorry,” Riley said, standing up as though to come over and comfort her, but then thinking better of it after what she’d just said. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Buffy insisted, going to him and putting her hands on his arms. “And – and it’s not my fault, either,” she finished with some effort. “I’m getting counseling, but it’ll take time, so I’m just asking that you… understand.”

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

“I guess there’s no chance you haven’t done laundry since then?” she asked hopefully.

Riley looked at her, confused. “Yeah, I have. Why?”

“If you hadn’t… washed your sheets,” she explained with some discomfort, “they might’ve been able to, you know, get evidence.” She shook her head. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

Hesitantly, Riley ran his hand through her hair. “I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“So do I. But I was afraid of what you’d think of me.”

He fell silent at that, and Buffy couldn’t help wishing for some reassurance that he wasn’t thinking the things she’d feared, but she didn’t want to seem needy by asking him.

Finally, he asked the question she’d been expecting. “Buffy, how could this have happened? I mean, you’re the Slayer…”

“I was drunk,” she said shamefully, “or – or passed out, or…” She trailed off, something about that triggering her memory. “No… wait. I wasn’t drunk. I’d only had a couple of drinks before I started to feel woozy.”

Riley’s expression darkened. “Maybe somebody drugged you. What’s the last drink you remember?”

“The one you gave me… right before you got paged.”

Riley furrowed his brow again, thinking back to that night. “Graham. Graham mixed your drink. Son of a bitch.”

Buffy stared at him in disbelief. “He’s your friend. You don’t think he would…?”

“He better not have.” The muscles in his jaw twitched, and she could tell that he was ready to leave her room and go beat an answer out of his supposed best friend.

She put a steadying hand on his chest. “Riley, let me talk to him.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to do this. I need to figure this out myself, for closure.” Trying to diffuse his anger with some levity, she added, “Also, I don’t want to be responsible for you killing Graham.”

His nostrils flared, and for a moment, she didn’t think he’d let her handle it, but finally he asked, “You sure you’ll be okay?”

Buffy smiled weakly. “As long as he doesn’t give me anything to drink, I think I can take him.”

*****

Buffy plunked her tray down on the cafeteria table next to Graham, causing both him and Forrest to look up at her in surprise. “Hi, guys,” she said with false cheer.

“Well, if it isn’t Supergirl,” Forrest replied in a sardonic tone, and Buffy had to resist the urge to wipe the smirk off his face. Forrest had seemed to take an immediate disliking to her as soon as she and Riley had started dating. She tended to think that he was intimidated because a teeny tiny girl could kick his ass.

Graham just gave her a half-smile and a “Hey, Buffy.”

Hmm. She’d been hoping for a bit more sinister of a reaction, but maybe that would be too obvious. “Hey, Graham, I need to talk to you about something. Think we could get a minute alone?”

“Sure,” Graham replied, exchanging a glance with Forrest, who shrugged disinterestedly.

“I’ll be back at the house,” he said, clearly not feeling like he was missing out on spending time with Buffy.

“What’s up?” Graham asked, once they were alone at the table. “Something going on with Riley?”

“Remember the Lowell House party a couple of weeks ago?” Buffy started, abandoning any pretense of small talk.

“Yeah…”

“Somebody drugged me. You want to ’fess up, or am I gonna have to kick your ass?”

Graham let out a nervous laugh and said dismissively, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You mixed me a drink. Rum and Coke. It’s the last thing I remember. Care to fill in any details?”

“Look, Buffy –”

“No, no ‘look, Buffy.’ Just tell me – did you do it or not?”

“Yeah, okay,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze. “I slipped something into your drink. It was supposed to loosen you up.”

“So you could rape me?” Buffy asked, a hysterical tinge to her voice.

“No! I didn’t touch you!” Graham insisted, looking appalled at the very suggestion. “The drugs… it was Forrest’s idea. We were just trying to help Finn out, get him laid. But then we got stuck down in the Initiative all night, so I guess it was a waste anyway.”

Buffy clenched her fist at her side, resisting the urge to pummel him. “So you drugged me in order to get me more willing to sleep with my boyfriend, is that it?”

“Yeah. Look, it’s not a big deal. We just thought –”

“Somebody raped me,” Buffy gritted out. “While I was unconscious from the drug you gave me.”

Graham’s eyes widened. “Riley never said…”

“He didn’t know.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “What did you give me? Roofies? GHB? What?”

“Hydracin-12.”

“What the hell is that?”

He just gave her a cryptic look. “Ask your boyfriend.”

Buffy stood up, about to walk away, when finally her anger got the better of her. She hit Graham with a good dose of slayer strength, punching him hard enough to send him flying out of his chair and into the next table over, which broke in half under the force and collapsed. Every head in the room turned to stare at her as the students sitting at the now-damaged table started a commotion. Without acknowledging any of them, Buffy calmly picked up her tray, disposed of her lunch, and walked out of the dining hall.

*****

Buffy’s head was spinning after her talk with Graham. She thought about going to Forrest to get him to corroborate the story, but she didn’t exactly relish the idea of laying out all her insecurities for a guy who clearly hated her.

Instead, she focused on what Graham had told her. Was it possible that Riley had been complicit in the drugging? Would he actually have given his friends permission to do this to her?

He couldn’t have – he’d been furious when Graham’s name had come up, and he wasn’t that good of an actor. But then, why would Graham have said to ask Riley about Hydracin-12, whatever that was?

She didn’t think she could stomach confronting Riley about it, so she avoided him for the rest of the day. I’m getting really good at that, she reflected as she gathered up stakes for patrol. Maybe too good.

Opening up to Riley about the rape was supposed to make things easier, but instead it had only thrown suspicion on him. God, if Riley’s the reason this happened to me…

She dropped to her knees and vomited on a gravestone.

Just as she was wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she heard Spike’s voice behind her say in a mocking tone, “Slayer. Good to see you’re doing better.”

She scrambled to her feet to find him watching her, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Shut up, Spike.”

“What’s the matter? Eat some bad shrimp?”

“What happened to being sympathetic?” she grumbled, falling into step with him.

“Here,” he replied, holding out a flask. “Soothe your stomach.”

Buffy just stared at him for a moment. “Unless that’s Pepto Bismol in there, I don’t think so.”

“Suit yourself.” He took a deep pull from the flask before pocketing it again. “So, there a reason you booted on Mrs. Jamison’s grave, or did the bint just have it coming?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Spike shrugged. “Right, then. I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.” At the sound of her voice, he paused, and she looked at him uncertainly. “Stay?”

“What for?”

“Talk to me.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk about it,” Spike replied, cocking an eyebrow.

“I don’t,” she said. “Talk to me about something else.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Tell me what you did today. Tell me about the latest rumors in the demon world. Tell me what’s happening on Passions. Talk about anything – talk about the weather.”

Spike’s eyebrows arched even higher. “You wanna talk about the weather?”

“Yes! No… I don’t know.” Buffy let out a sigh. “Look, I’ve spent all week talking about this – with my counselor, and Riley, and his stupid friends… I just want to talk about something normal, okay? Something that has nothing to do with being raped.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah, all right.” He took a deep breath. “Well, Tabitha got turned into a goldfish, see, and Timmy’s tryin’ to turn her back…”