Nineteenth. A storm is swelling.
Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and your worries.
Trouble me on the days when you feel spent.
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and
strong?
Trouble me.
Speak to me, don't mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling;
There's no telling where it starts or how it ends.
Speak to me, why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me when your
silence is my greatest fear?
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and
strong?
Speak to me.
Let me have a look inside these eyes while I’m learning.
Please don't hide them just because of tears.
Let me send you off to sleep with a "there, there, now stop your turning and
tossing."
Let me know where the hurt is and how to heal.
Spare me? don't spare me anything troubling.
Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and your worries.
Speak to me and let our words build a shelter from the storm.
Lastly, let me know what i can mend.
There's more, honestly, than my sweet friend, you can see.
Trust is what I’m offering if you trouble me.
Trouble me, Dennis Drew and Natalie Merchant
Two days after Christmas, Buffy had talked Xander and Willow into helping her get rid of the box containing Riley’s stuff. Together the three of them had wrestled the box into the back of Xander’s car and then piled into the car. Glancing into the rearview mirror, Xander asked, “So Buffster, where to?”
“Riley’s house.” She stared him down, unafraid to meet his eyes.
“Are you sure? Why do you wanna go there?” Xander had swung around to look at her, his expression clearly confused.
Willow was shaking her head, muttering under her breath, “so not good. Why do you wanna talk to him? He’s a big poopyhead. What are you gonna do when you see him? This is not good. Can’t we wait until like never?”
But Buffy was shaking her head at both of them. “Guys, not going to talk to him at all. Don’t wanna even see him. We’re just gonna do a drive by, I swear.”
“This is a bad idea.” Xander turned around and put the car in gear, despite his misgivings.
“Trust me guys, I know what I’m doing.” The two in the front shared a skeptical look, but neither one said anything.
Xander stopped the car half a block away from Riley’s, once more asking Buffy if she was sure she wanted to do this. When Buffy responded by saying simply “keep going Xand,” he did.
Just as they were passing the Finn’s house, Buffy looked at the box of stuff and an idea formed in her head. “Hey, stop the car.”
“Oh no, no no. Buffy this is really not good. Coz, look all the cars and that means someone is home and you don’t want to talk to someone and really, this is such a bad idea. “ Willow was babbling, waving her hands like crazy as Buffy slipped from the backseat.
“Wills, I need to do this.” Buffy leaned back into the car, grabbing one end of the box, pulling it toward her. Xander finally caught on, and with a calming word to Willow, he got out of the car to help Buffy with the box. She shot him a grateful look. “Thanks.”
The two of them dumped the contents of the box on Riley’s front lawn, and Buffy kicked some of the stuff, then marched over to the front door. She rang the bell twice, then without waiting for someone to answer, turned her back on the door and walked slowly back to where Xander waited in the middle of the lawn. Her smile got wider the closer she got to him and he couldn’t help the laughter that just seeing her smile caused.
He was nearly doubled over with it, between the look in Buffy’s eyes and the insane babbling coming from Willow and then, when the front door was flung open and Riley’s shouted outrage sounded in the air, Xander finally lost it. He staggered back to his car, convulsing with laughter. Completely ignoring the shouts and Riley’s looming presence behind her, Buffy passed Xander and got into the back of his car.
Riley was yelling, his face bright red, inches away from Xander’s, and he appeared all set to get into a fight. Xander, however, wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. He straightened away from the car and shaking his head at Riley’s attitude, he circled around him and, just like Buffy, got into the car without a word.
They drove off to the sight of Riley standing in the middle of the street, yelling at the top of his lungs. The three in the car shared a look and then exploded into giggles.
She was beginning to really hate her mother. It was sad to admit that to herself, but really, Buffy was slowly coming to the realization her mother wasn’t always a nice person. And sometimes she was downright nasty and mean. They’d spent the days following Christmas doing nothing but fighting about the money and what Buffy was going to do once the baby arrived.
The only bright spot in her whole vacation had been the nightly phone calls from Will. He’d called her every night, usually no later than midnight and they spend hours talking to each other. Okay, so not all of it was spent talking, at least not coherently, but Buffy figured that counted anyway since they sometimes did use words.
So other than that moment when she’d dumped everything of Riley’s back on his front lawn and the phone calls from Will, this Christmas vacation had sucked. Literally. Which explained in a way, why she was looking forward to school starting again.
Her mother was going out for New Year’s, and she was supposed to go to Willow’s but Buffy wasn’t feeling so good. She hadn’t felt good all day, napping from midmorning until early afternoon and that still hadn’t helped much. Buffy was currently hunched over the toilet, her stomach clenching with debilitating cramps. Nothing was staying down and today was the worst she’d ever felt.
The mashed potatoes she’d eaten earlier had long since vacated her stomach and there was nothing she even wanted to be near, except one. But she’d promised herself, when he’d told her he wasn’t going to be in Sunnydale for the holidays, that she wasn’t going to call him and beg him to come home. No matter how much she wanted him too. Right now she wanted to be able to crawl into his arms and rest her head against his chest. To curl up in his arms whenever she wanted to, to feel his strong hands cupping her cheek or brushing over her hair. Buffy wanted. . . she wanted to be beside him out in the open. No hiding. No pretending that this wasn’t real.
She leaned back against the tub, putting her head down on the top ledge, breathing heavily through her nose. Her mind focused on images of Will and what she wanted for the future. She loved him. She could admit it to herself, even if she wasn’t quite ready to say the words out loud, but she wanted to show him. Buffy wanted to give hm everything she could, everything he wanted.
Finally, after long minutes trying to control her breathing, her belly calmed and Buffy was able to stumble from the bathroom into her room. Dropping onto her bed, she closed her eyes and pulled Mr. Gordo and Will’s shirt into her arms and settled into sleep.
For the first time in five years, Will wasn’t enjoying himself at Liam’s and Drusilla’s New Year’s Eve party. By his own choice, he was without a date, and instead of circulating his way though the rest of the guests, Will was sitting in the kitchen alone.
More than one of Liam’s fellow cops or their wives had tried dislodging him from his perch, but Will wasn’t. . . he’d tried to get into the spirit, tried just going with the flow and having a good time, but he couldn’t make it work. He missed her. Times like this he felt like half a person, without his arm or . . . some part of him that was vital, something that kept him going. How the hell did this happen so quickly? He’d never wanted to spend every waking moment with one person before, not ever. None of the girls he’d dated had ever affected him the way she did with just a smile. Or worse, a tear.
She wasn’t the most beautiful of all his girlfriends, but then that wasn’t what drew him to her, although she was absolutely adorable and he could spend hours just watching emotions play over her features. No, it wasn’t her looks that had drawn him in. . . it was her. Everything about her. Her smile, her tears, her strength, her weakness. . . . her tiny little hands. . . . The tilt of her head when she was intent. Her scent. The silkiness of her skin. There wasn’t a part of her that he didn’t . . . love. Will closed his eyes, fighting his sudden need to be near her.
Yeah, right you bleedin’ jackass. Sudden? Nothin’ sudden about this. Been needin’ her for days only now you’re willing to admit it. He jumped visibly when a soft hand touched his arm and he opened his eyes to see Drusilla watching him intently.
“All right, Will?” The concern in her voice was his undoing.
“No. ‘M not all right, pet.” He shook his head, trying to deny his own emotions. “Can’t get her out of m’head tonight.”
Drusilla moved away, getting ice for her drink. “What’s wrong?”
“Christ love, I wish I knew.” He looked away from her steady gaze, unwilling to let her see just how upset he was. Blinking away the tears, Will growled in agitation. “Just feels like part of me is missin’. Like I can’t get a deep breath b’cause she’s not here with me. An’ I feel like a bloody git for feelin’ this way.”
Slowly Drusilla put her glass down, trying to compose an answer that wouldn’t make him shy away from her. “Will, what you’re feeling isn’t,” she paused, for once at a loss for words. “Its how I felt when Liam left, when his parents took him away. And I’m sorry now, for using you and turning to you but I was just so lost and alone. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest.”
“Weren’t using me pet, we were using each other. I missed him too, you know. Was m’bloody best friend.” He finally turned to look at her and when she saw the tears in his eyes, Drusilla reacted. Pulling him into her embrace, she let him rest his head on her shoulder.
“Oh dear heart, don’t. . . “ soothing him, she pitched her voice low so that no one could hear them. “Now you know, Will. . . She’s all over you, you’re covered with her and you don’t feel right without her. Go on upstairs and call your girl.” Lifting his head away from her, she kissed his forehead, then said, “give her my love, will you?”
Nodding as he moved away from her arms, Will wiped his eyes, looking for all the world like a lonely, lost little boy. Her hand on his arm stopped him from leaving the room. “And Will? No matter what, do not leave here tonight.”
“Dru?” His voice was thick with unshed tears, but he heard the warning, “what is it?”
“Promise me, you won’t leave until the morning. Its not. . . “ her eyes took on a far-away look and she was no longer really in the room with him. “Not safe to leave.”
It had been a long time since he’d seen that particular look or heard that particular ghostly tone in her voice, but he’d learned the hard way not to ignore it.
“Promise.”
“Yeah, pet, I promise.”
Drusilla let him go without another word.
Two hours later, Will was regretting his promise to Drusilla not to leave.
He’d gone almost directly upstairs to his room after leaving her, intent on calling Buffy and spending the rest of the night talking to her. Which is precisely what he’d done. What he hadn’t planned on was the reaction of his girlfriend when he called.
She was crying, had been crying for most of the phone call, when she wasn’t telling him to hold on because she needed to puke. Instead of lying on their respective beds, just talking, Will was up, pacing the floor, while Buffy was sobbing in his ear.
“Sweetheart. Please, take a deep breath and try to calm down.” Her hiccuped breathing sounded loud, and he swore he could almost hear her head shake.
“I’m trying. Its hard. I feel like shit and I can’t stop . . . “ Buffy whined a little, which just edged his agitation higher. He was practically stomping across the floor, caught between Drusilla’s warning and Buffy’s need, with nowhere to go but within the four walls. He felt like every nerve was on edge, his insides being gutted and broiled and he knew he was clenching his teeth, but he couldn’t make himself relax.
His back was to the door, his attention focused intently on listening to his girl weeping and Will missed it completely when Drusilla slipped into the room behind him.
Her hand on his back had him jumping almost out of his skin, but her soft words and concerned expression mollified him a bit. She held out her hand for the phone and he reluctantly turned it over to her.
“Buffy?”
“Who’s this?” Belligerent wariness filled her and Buffy forgot what she’d been about to say to him when the unknown female voice sounded in her ear. “Who are you?”
A soft sigh that ended on a little laugh escaped from Drusilla. “He did tell you about me, didn’t he? Its Drusilla, sweetling.”
“His old girlfriend?” The wariness got more pronounced and Dru relented.
“Very old girlfriend, dearie. I’m an old married lady now. Not good enough for the likes of our sweet William.” She laughed, sticking her tongue out at the subject of her conversation. “So tell me, little pixie, why our prince is all growly and upset.”
Buffy sniffled, then launched into a litany of why she wasn’t happy. Dru listened, not once interrupting until Buffy had stopped crying and was talking calmly. It didn’t take very long, since all Drusilla did was listen and not try to talk her out of her mood or cut her off. She waited until the words were trickling down to a standstill, instead of the torrent they’d started out as, and she finally said, “just so you know dearie, the first months of pregnancy are horrible. Everything inside is topsy-turvy and there’s no one to explain why. When you’re feeling better, you’ll have to come have a tea party with the girls and I. We’d love to have you, princess, and you can bring Mr. Grouchy with you.”
From where he was standing, Will could hear the pain and grief leaving her voice and when Dru extended the invitation to come and visit, he swore he could see her smile. Drusilla drifted closer, letting him listen to their next exchange. “You should know, dearie that the girls insist on dressing up for tea, so you’ll need to find a very big hat.”
Her tentative laughter sounded softly and the tension running through his muscles eased. They traded a few more words, but Will hadn’t paid attention, so he was briefly startled when Dru handed him back the phone and waltzed from the room, all the while humming some Disney tune under her breath.
“Hello love.”
“She sounds nice Will.”
He laughed, thinking of all the times she’d nearly killed him, and said “only sometimes, sunshine, the rest of the time she’s a bloody nightmare.”
She was running late. Too late. And because she was running late, the entire world was conspiring against her. Buffy had woken up late and been unable to get up right away because the nausea had returned with a vengeance. She’d spent too much time huddled over the toilet both before and after her shower. It had taken almost all her willpower to drag herself downstairs and as she was getting something to drink, Joyce decided that was a good time to start in again about the money.
“Have you thought any more about the Finn’s offer?” Buffy leaned her head against the refrigerator door, exhaustion and defeat flooding her spirit.
“Mom. I really don’t feel good. Can we not do this?”
“Buffy.” Joyce slammed her cup down on the counter, her temper gone. “No. We are not going to do this later. We are going to discuss this now. And you are going to listen to me.”
“Why should I listen to you Mom? You don’t ever wanna listen to me. You don’t give a damn about what I think or what I want. So you know what Mom? I don’t care what you think or want either.” Buffy faced off with her mother, neither woman willing to budge.
“Young lady, you need to change your attitude. You will listen to me and we will contact the Finn’s to accept their offer.” She was wagging a finger in Buffy’s face and her daughter finally snapped. She pushed away her finger, snarling and shaking with anger.
“My attitude? I’m not the one setting down impossible rules and its always do as I say not as I do. God Mom, you are such a bitch!”
Joyce loomed over her, her face inches away from Buffy. “Don’t you speak to me like that. I’m your mother, young lady and you will treat me with respect.”
“Yeah sure, Mom, whatever. I’m going to school.” Buffy started to walk away, when Joyce grabbed her upper arm, swinging her around to face her.
“We are not done her, missy. Don’t you dare walk away.”
Pulling her arm out of Joyce’s bruising grasp, Buffy snapped. She pushed her away, knocking her mother back against the counter and she stood there, gasping and shaking with hurt and anger. “Leave me alone. I can’t stay here and talk about this at all Mom, I have to go pretend to be normal in school.”
Joyce reacted without thinking, pushing herself away from the counter, she raised her hand and slapped her right across the face. “Don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me ever again.”
“Don’t touch me!” Buffy raised her hand to the stinging side of her face and tears slipped from her eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me. You’re the one who’s causing all these problems. Why can’t you just be normal like other kids?” Both Summers women were screaming now, and Buffy pushed away from her mother, heading for the back door.
“God, you have no idea how I wish I was normal. But I’m not Mom. I’m seventeen years old and I’m gonna be a mom. I won’t ever be normal.”
“Don’t you dare walk out that door. We are not done here.” Joyce caught Buffy’s shoulder in a tight grip, preventing her from walking out the door. “If you walk out that door now, don’t . . . just don’t you dare walk out that door.”
“Let me go Mom. I have to go to school. I’m already late.” Buffy pulled away from her and without a backward glance she left the house.
Buffy was about a half a block away from school when the final bell rang, signaling the start to the school day. She thought about just blowing it off and heading back home, but her mother was probably still there, stewing about the damn money and she couldn’t face that. She had no choice but to go forward. Chances are, Snyder won’t be hanging around and I’ll be able to sneak inside to my first class. Hopefully. With some kind of luck.
But the fates were still conspiring against her, because Snyder was standing at the doors of the school, apparently just waiting for her or any other latecomers so he could get his own cheap thrills out of punishing the students.
The grin covering his troll-like features made his face look like a caricature of some insane alien species that preyed upon human emotions like despair and sadness and Buffy knew her day just went from bad to worse. It wasn’t even worth bantering with him over, because she knew he’d warned her he was going to do this. He was taking far too much delight in her progress up the steps toward him.
Buffy glanced up in time to see Mr. Giles open the door behind Snyder and, at his quick glance in her direction, she had a feeling he was going to try and intervene on her behalf. He started speaking, but Snyder waved him off, saying, “not now, Mr. Giles. I’m about to do something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.”
Turning his attention to her, Snyder’s grin got wider, a feat Buffy had previously thought impossible. “Such a good morning, Miss Summers. First day back from vacation and the weather is nice again and, look, you finally decided you’d come to school today. Did our schedule interfere with a previous engagement?”
With a deep breath, she raised her eyes to his, defiance and false bravado swimming in the hazel depths. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was upset about this. She wasn’t going to let this little prick see her cry. “Good morning Mr. Snyder. Wow. I must be really early since no one else is around.”
She wasn’t playing dumb, she was more intent on needling the little monster as a way of getting a bit of her own back.
A sadistic sound pretending to be a laugh emerged from Snyder’s throat. “Oh no, Miss Summers. The truth is you are very late. And apparently you decided to disregard my warnings about being late, so now you give me no choice but to punish you.” His hands were practically rubbing together, the only other outward sign of his intense pleasure over what he was about to say. “Miss Summers, please accompany me to my office so I can suspend you.”
“Do we have to? I mean if you’re going to suspend me, why not just get it over with and do it out here?” Buffy’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Snyder, but he chose to ignore her and the presence of Giles behind him.
“Have to do the paperwork Miss Summers. Besides, you have nothing else to do but sit around. Doesn’t really matter where you do it.”
Ignoring the presence of his Assistant Principal, Snyder turned his back, ushering Buffy inside.
Giles watched them go, wondering when, or even if, Snyder was going to notice the slight bruising on Buffy’s left cheek and arm.
Well, that’s that. I have now officially reached bottom. Snyder suspended me because Mom picked this morning to go all Mommie Dearest on me and hey, at least I can go home. Yeah. Right. Home. To face more of the wrath of Ghengis Mom. Maybe I can skip that? Buffy shook her head, refusing to let any evidence of her current emotions surface.
I must have been a real shit in my last life.
Closing the door on Snyder as he was gloating about her suspension, Buffy stilled the childish urge to slam it.
She walked toward the outer offices, intent on getting out of the building as quickly as possible. To add further insult, Snyder had insisted she carry her own suspension orders to the attendance office. She waited patiently while the secretaries were talking. Off in her own little world, Buffy didn’t realize what they were discussing until she heard one of them say, “apparently she’s in his English class.”
“So how did they get caught?” Was the query from the second, slightly older secretary.
“Not sure. I heard two different stories. Someone said they’d gotten a picture of them in his house, but I’m not sure I believe that.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s just too easy. The other story is that, well, someone saw them at a truck stop during the Thanksgiving break.”
“So what’s gonna happen?”
“Well, he’s gonna get suspended from his job and he won’t be allowed to teach or have any interaction with students. But I thought I heard they were going to arrest him before school this morning.”
“So he’s an English teacher?”
“Not any more he’s not.”
Oh god. . . . Buffy listened, absolutely horrified by what she was hearing. No. . . oh my god. She dropped her paperwork on the desk and numbly walked away. No . . . no. . . no. . please god. . . not this. Not Will.
Her heart in her throat, and tears streaming unchecked from her eyes, Buffy fled from the school.
I know, I know. . . but I warned you all. . . . hell, Drusilla warned you. . . . So, let me know what you think, be kind and leave a review.