And You Know It's No Fun
by DawnBTVS
Chapter 2
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I shove the library door open with my left hand, gingerly holding my right arm as the door closes. Giles glances up, instantly noting my condition. I sigh, taking a seat at the table. I'd been here for three weeks now and it seemed that every third or fourth day, I'd come in with a new injury to try and hide from Giles and Willow. Willow's seated at the table wearing a green t-shirt and blue jeans. She glances at my arm, and then glances at my face. She places both hands on the table, palms down, almost glaring at me now.
"Okay, you show up wincing almost every other day with some new injury. What's going on, Buffy? I've seen you fight, and the vampires don't put up that much of a fight," Willow states. I keep my mouth closed, really not wanting to get into that discussion right now. I glance at Willow who seems to be hell bent on getting to the bottom of my physical appearances over the past few weeks. I sigh.
"I just...fell down some stairs, okay," I answer, wanting to end this. Willow shakes her head vehemently at my request though. I can tell that she sees right through that flimsy excuse that I've already trotted out three times before today. She scowls at me now, knowing that I'm trying to sidestep the eventual turn of our talk.
"Right. Just like you always walk into a door or trip over your feet. You're not clumsy, Buffy. We both know that what your excuses no longer hold any water. Who's hurting you?" Willow asks. She has a look of concern tinged with a tenderness that I only saw when I'd talk to Faith back home. It's striking how similar Willow and Faith are when it comes to me. Giles decides that this is an appropriate time to sidle on over and make this even harder. He's wearing a worried expression but has remained silent thus far on the matter.
"It's...nothing. It's just discipline, okay? I come home late and Mom isn't happy so she lets me know. I shouldn't be out so late anyway," I whisper, cradling my arm against my chest. I feel small now, like I've done something wrong, and am being punished for it. It's funny, you know? That I feel like Giles and Willow are punishing me right now and yet it's my mother who does the punishing.
"Buffy, it's imperative that we get you away from your mother if she is indeed giving you such serious harm," Giles comments. I glance at him, fear in my eyes, thinking about what would happen to me if I were taken away from Mom. She'd probably seek me out and kill me if I ever tried that. I shake my head instantly. There's no way I could do that. It's not an option, no way, no how.
"No way, Giles. She'll kill me," I say in a fit of panic. Willow reaches forward, taking my left hand in both of hers. She gives me a serious look, eyes staring directly into mine.
"She'll kill you if you don't leave too. Just look at yourself, Buffy. You're cradling your arm like it's broken, and for all we know, that could be the case. You can't keep up with the beatings like this," Willow pleads. I cast my eyes to the table, unwilling to tell them they are right. I guess fear can be a stronger motivator than most let on.
"So, what do I do? It's not like I can just pack up my bags," I laugh to hide my concern at doing such a daring action. The fact that I'm even entertaining the notion scares me. Of course Mom has no way of knowing what I'm thinking but somewhere deep, I wonder if she knows what I'm thinking right now.
"I'll go with you when you go home after school. She wouldn't dare beat you up in front of me, right?" Willow asks. I can hear the worry in her voice. I give her a sad smile, knowing my mother would do anything.
"Don't be surprised," I whisper. Willow squeezes my hand in comfort. I pull my hand away and grab my bag, heading out of the library quickly to avoid them catching the tears welling up in my eyes.
~~~BTVS~~~
I play with the hem of my sleeve, standing by my locker. How could Buffy's mother do such a horrible thing? I mean...Buffy fights demons! I get startled out of my thoughts by a laughing Xander. He's leaning next to me, luckily though his flunkies are nowhere to be seen. Even Cordelia is out of sight.
"So, I hear you've targeted the new girl. Guess some of those bruises were your doing, huh?" Xander cracks, grinning the whole time. I give him a derisive snort.
"What, need a woman who likes it rough? Cordelia not up to snuff?" I snap back. Xander's grin falters a little and he gives a slight scowl at me now.
"Watch what you say, Willow. I have connections and I can always force your lifestyle around," Xander growls. I know he means it too, but that comment about Buffy has royally pissed me off. Especially considering I know what the real story is behind the bruises. Who's he to make light of the subject anyway? His father's a drunk and his mother a racist homophobe.
"I'd like to see you try, Xander. I guess your reputation was hurt when your childhood friend turned out to be a lesbian. Doesn't help your image to the packrats that you hung with a lesbian at one time," I say testily. I catch sight of Buffy behind Xander. She's still favoring her arm as she walks closer, but maintains her position. Xander grabs me by the front of my shirt, slamming me against the locker. I stare at him defiantly, unwilling to let him know that I'm feeling a bit of fear. Suddenly I feel his weight gone and see him flying across the hall, smashing the back of his head into a row of lockers. He grunts, shooting a nasty look at us, before scrambling away. I look at Buffy in shock. "You have a broken...well, hurt arm," I say, flabbergasted. Buffy smirks at me.
"Still have Slayer strength though, Will. Besides, one arm is still useful even if both aren't in complete working order. I think my other arm's coming around too. I can bend it a little, although if I get too pushy, it hurts again. Come on," she says. I smile back, pleased to be rescued by Buffy. I think I'm starting to develop something for her although I wouldn't say anything for fear of scaring her away. It's not like I have a slot machine of friends to pop out with every pull of the lever.
~~~BTVS~~~
We walk up the stone path leading to the wooden front door quietly. I can tell that Buffy's tensing next to me. I link my arm with hers to try and reassure her. The house is a white homely color, though it kind of comes off as bland to me at least. The door opens to reveal Buffy's mother, a blond who doesn't look evil. She's wearing a red apron over a white blouse and a pair of blue jeans. She looks to be in her early to mid forties and reminds me of those mothers from the 1940's and 1950's. She gives me a smile and opens the door wider as we step in. I glance at Buffy, who seems taken aback by her mother's jovial attitude. Buffy tries to hide her surprise though by staring at the staircase. Buffy's mother closes the door as Buffy and I turn to face her.
"Hello, I'm Joyce. Buffy's mother," she says, extending a hand towards me. I eye her hand, amazed at how something so small can do so much damage to a person, to their daughter even. I take the hand and shake it tentatively, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in this situation. I want to yank my hand away in disgust.
"This is Willow. She's been helping me with my schoolwork," Buffy informs Joyce. Joyce nods her head, still smiling. It's getting really unsettling, and I think it's because I know what Joyce has done to Buffy. How can she be so happy? "We'll be upstairs," Buffy comments, grabbing my hand, and swiftly pulling me up the stairs. We hang a left as Buffy pushes me into the bedroom and closes the door. She contemplates locking it but decides not to. With a frown, I can tell why. Mommy probably wouldn't approve. I can feel anger bubbling inside of me that somebody as beautiful as Buffy can be so controlled. She can't even lock her own bedroom door without fear of repercussions. My parents rarely yell at me, let alone touch me in a negative manner.
"Are you okay?" Buffy asks, turning around to face me. I've taken a seat on her bed, swinging my feet. I look at her, not quite sure what to say.
"I guess. It's just...feeling a hand that has hit you and seeing her smile was unsettling. It scares me to think how I would've seen her if you hadn't told Giles and I what she does," I whisper, wrapping both arms around myself. Buffy sighs, taking a seat next to me.
"I know," Buffy says. I glance at her as she rests her head on my shoulder. I tilt my head against hers, wrapping my arm around her shoulders while taking care not to touch her injured arm. "Promise she won't hurt me?" Buffy whispers, and I can hear the tremble in her voice letting me know the tears could be expected shortly.
"Giles and I will put our lives on the line for you, Buffy. I promise, she'll never lay a finger on you again. If she does...I'll have to get violent," I sternly say, earning a soft sigh from Buffy.
"Thanks, Willow. You're like the perfect girl," Buffy whispers, softly. I just smile to myself.
"And you're mine, Buffy," I reply, wiping a few stray wisps of hair from in front of her eyes. She turns her head to look at me, a soft smile on her face. I smile back. *KNOCK* at the bedroom door instantly breaks us apart. I jump my way off the bed, landing hard on my side with a soft yelp of pain. I quickly rise to my feet, catching Buffy's glance of concern at me as she lifts herself into a sitting position on the bed. Joyce opens the door and peers in, a cunning smile on her face as if she knew what we were doing. I make a note of the chill running down my spine.
"Is everything going well?" Joyce asks. Buffy and I nod our heads. Joyce gives a smile that parents must work on to disguise their inner intentions. "Buffy, could we talk for a moment?" Joyce asks. Buffy turns and looks at me, the fear in her eyes so pronounced. I want to step in front of Buffy, protect her but instead I stay where I'm standing. She turns her attention back to Joyce and nods her head. She gets up off the bed, heading out the door. I walk forward on the pink carpet. I look around, trying to find a weapon to grab my hands on. I spot a wooden bat lying beneath the bed. I bend down, grab it, and stand back up. I can hear the yelling in the hallway, mostly by Joyce. I creep closer to the door, opening it quietly. *SMACK* rings through the hallway and I swing the door open, suddenly feeling unbridled rage. I march out, hand gripping the bat so hard that my knuckles are white. Joyce turns to look at me in surprise. Buffy's crumpled on the floor, hand resting on her cheek where the imprint of a hand stares back at me as a memento. I look down at her, but she looks away in shame. That does it. I step in front of Buffy, staring Joyce down.
"You touch her again, I'll hurt you," I snarl. Joyce's surprise turns to anger as she steps forward to tower over me. She crosses her arms over her chest.
"She's my daughter. I can do with her what I please," Joyce snaps back. I give her an ice-cold smile as I raise the bat to my side.
"She's coming with me. If you in anyway contact her, I'll kill you," I growl. I drop the bat, rear back, and punch Joyce in the face as hard as I can possibly muster. I feel a crack when my knuckles meet cheek. Buffy's on her feet now but has remained silent except for the gasp when I punched her mother. Joyce hits the floor in shock and pain. I give her a hard kick to the face for added bonus, sending the back of her head into the wall. I stare down at her, contemplating kicking her again should she be thinking about coming after us but she looks like she's knocked out for the time being. I think I broke my hand. I turn and grab Buffy's hand with my free hand, placing her in front of me as we head down the stairs. We exit the house after I grab a steak knife from the kitchen. I enter the open garage, quickly slashing all four tires. I turn to look at Buffy who's looking at me in a mixture of awe, shock, and fear. I tuck the knife in the back of my pants and wrap an arm around her shoulders. I may be the golden child of the Rosenbergs, but I don't mind getting into my fair share of trouble when it's called for. That and who doesn't love the dangerous girl? I fish the cell phone out of my pocket, dial home, and wait for Mom to answer.
~~~BTVS~~~
I was silent in the car. I glance at Willow who's looking at her hand. We're in her bedroom. Mrs. Rosenberg seemed to understand whatever Willow told her, although she gasped a couple times, and looked at me with concern and dismay. I keep flashing back to how angry Mom was and what'll happen to me now. Willow and I are side by side on her bed in pajamas. I borrowed some from Willow. I told Willow she could go to sleep, but she refused, telling me that she wanted to make sure I felt safe. I broke down then. Her hand was wrapped in a bandage with ice underneath. She told me that she bruised her knuckles pretty good. I cautiously take her hand, examining the bandages.
"You hit her," I murmur in awe. I'm still amazed she lived up to her promise. Mom...well, she rarely lived up to any that she made. The exception being the promised ass-whipping coming my way of course because that never went unfulfilled.
"That I did. Seeing you down there in pain was like a knife to my gut. I couldn't stand the thought of you possibly never rising to your feet again," Willow whispers. She turns her eyes to me and I stare into them, the flash of the strong care that she has for me shining through. I give her a half smile.
"I never met anybody who was so protective of me as you are, except for Faith but she's a few years younger than I am. She's back in Boston, apart of an orphanage that my Mom helped run. She got adopted by four families in the span of one month and kept winding back at the orphanage," I explain, recollecting the way Faith was so active to defend me. Although she never stood up to Mom, but I remember she would tell me she would eventually. When she got older.
"I can't imagine why anybody would harm you that way. You're gorgeous in every way. The way your cheeks dimple when you smile, the way you effuse happiness with a laugh, and the way your eyes sparkle, Willow whispers. I blush but she keeps her focus on my face.
"I think I'm falling for you too. At first you were a friend, my best friend. Lately though, it's like this new light has been shining down on you. The way you are so optimistic about life and whatever happens, even when bad does occur. Your intelligence is a definite positive that I admire you for. The way your body just looks perfect, every curve just right..." I finish, trailing off, blushing even more than before. Willow lifts her bandaged hand out of my grasp, gently running her fingers across my cheek. I flinch a little at the initial contact, but find myself melting into it. My eyes widen a little, the both of us holding our breaths. Willow lifts her head closer to mine, our lips just inches apart now. Her eyes are searching mine for any second-guessing. Uh-uh, just wanting now. Our lips meet, softly, barely grazing each other, but just enough for sweet contact. We break apart, breathing slightly harder. I feel a little dazed after that.
"Wow," Willow giggles. I giggle too, feeling a flush of emotions hitting me. Unfortunately, one of them is exhaustion.
"Can we go to sleep? It's just...I want today to end on a happy note and I'm not sure I could get any happier," I explain. Willow smiles, kissing my shoulder a couple times. She nods her head, turning to switch off the lamp, before turning back, and snuggling up against me.