Summary: What if Buffy was the screwed up one?
Spoilers: General spoilers for Btvs seasons 1 - 3
Disclaimers: I don't own Btvs nor do I make any money out of this; no
copyright infringement is intended.
A/N: A big, fat thank you to Holly and Kat who were willing to beta-read
this fic for me!=)
Sister of Night
It's been 24 hours now.
Twenty-four hours ago I sat with Thomas in his apartment and he made
breakfast for me. I know, two o'clock in the afternoon isn't exactly
breakfast time but you just don't get me out of bed earlier. He'd made
fresh orange juice and I had to drink it, as always, and I moaned and
bitched about it, as always. But you wanna know a secret? Breakfast just
isn't the same without him forcing that damn stuff down my throat.
Anyway. I'll never have to drink it again and that thought almost makes me
But me, I don't cry, haven't since I was a kid. I don't plan on starting
now. God, this bus is uncomfortable.
I wiggle in my seat and my arm accidentally brushes against the window.
Ouch. Can this slayer healing just kick in already? My arms are full of
cuts and burns; I'm a walking bruise and it hurts like hell. Big ouch. If
he'd be there, he'd have bandaged me up by now, tucked me into bed despite
my protests and given me some painkillers. But he isn't; he's-
I don't think I'm ready to use the d-word yet. It's quite funny, isn't it;
after that kind of night you'd think I'd learn my lesson and stay away from
the whole saving the world business. No more demons, no more vamps, just me
trying to survive without the person who's been my family for the last five
But no, instead of escaping the hell I've lived in, I'm heading straight
for another one, and quite literally to boot. Finally, I've reached my
destination as the bus passes a big sign:
Welcome To Sunnydale