Chapter 7
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
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Hank stormed up the stairs.
From her bedroom, Buffy immediately woke again, hearing her father’s heavy footsteps heading up the stairs, towards her room. Buffy quickly ran to her window and climbed out onto the handy tree that had served as her escape route for many nights. She didn’t bother closing the window after her, because this time she knew that it didn’t matter. Her father would be too drunk to leave the house and go looking for her; it was very late, and a drunk man on the streets would quickly be confronted by the police.
Outside, Buffy realized that a lone girl wandering the streets also wouldn’t get very far. She decided she would just wait here for awhile until her father either fell asleep or passed out. She predicted that he would have a massive hangover tomorrow and while he was in pain, he wouldn’t be able to bother her at all.
Hank slammed open Buffy’s bedroom door. His first thought was that Buffy must have heard him, and was hiding somewhere. “I’ll get you” he whispered, kicking at the furniture in the room and yanking open the closet door. In frustration, he began demolishing her room, shoving the bed aside, ripping the curtains off, and cursing. He punched at the wall and yelled in pain. Holding his bloody hand, Hank calmed down enough to realize that 1), Buffy was not in the room, and 2) the window was wide open, with a cold breeze blowing around the loose papers in the room. The room was a mess. The sidetable had a broken leg and the drawer was hanging out, a locked diary about to fall out. The closet door was hardly held up by the hinges, and clothes had been tossed all over the place. Blankets were on the floor, and a broken lamp was underneath the window. There was a slight dent in the wall by the door.
Suddenly, Hank felt dizzy, and realized he wouldn’t be able to stay standing much longer. He blindly staggered to his room, trying to block out the throbbing pain in his head, and passed out onto the floor next to his bed.
Buffy heard her father cursing and winced as it was followed by loud crashes in her room. After a few minutes, the noise abruptly stopped, and she heard her father leaving the room. After hesitating for only a moment, Buffy decided that it would be too risky to go in through the front door; her father could be waiting for her there. Instead, she climbed up the tree and quietly lowered herself over the window ledge, and dropped down into her room.
Tripping over the broken lamp, Buffy gave a startled cry as she stepped on the shattered light bulb. Stumbling to her bed, Buffy sat and strained her ears, wondering if her father had heard her. She considered slipping out the window again for a little while, but looking down at her foot, realized climbing down the tree would be quite a bit more painful. She had several cuts on her foot already from climbing the tree barefoot, but the broken lamp and light bulb had added some deeper scratches, which were starting to bleed. A short moment later, she heard faint snores coming from Hank’s room, and realized she was safe. Buffy looked around at the devastation of her room, and was slightly alarmed when she saw her diary out of place. Seeing that It was still safely locked though, Buffy gingerly walked around the broken furniture and headed to the bathroom to find some bandages.
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The next morning Buffy woke up much later than usual. Sitting up stiffly, she glanced over, wondering why her alarm clock hadn’t gone off. It wasn’t there. Buffy looked down and realized that the alarm clock was on the floor, unplugged. There was a crack in the glass display. Buffy reached over and plugged in the alarm clock. She was slightly frustrated when the numbers didn’t blink on; the clock was broken. Sighing, Buffy took another look around the room and almost laughed, realizing that all of the broken furniture didn’t even matter. She would have had to leave it behind anyway, since her father had made it clear they would be leaving soon. Accepting the fact that there was no way out of this situation, Buffy dragged a duffel bag over and began to pack, resigning herself to another depressing weekend.
Hours later, Hank finally woke up and almost passed out again, blinded by the stabbing pain in his head. Groaning and sitting up against the bed, Hank squinted at his watch. It was almost noon. What a great start to the weekend. Massaging his head, Hank managed to make his way to the kitchen and quickly downed a handful of Advil with two glasses of water. The pounding headache now slightly dulled, Hank saw the state of his smelly, beer-stained shirt and went to take a shower.
By this time, Buffy had put most of her clothes and a few other belongings into her duffel bag, and she had dumped out her school backpack and put this rest of her belongings in there. She had pushed most of the broken furniture to one end of the room, and swept up the rest into a large trash bag now in the corner of her room. After a quick shower she heard her father wake up. Buffy decided it was as good a time as any to get out of the house. Grabbing her jacket and an apple on the way out, Buffy left the house.
A/N: Sorry if any of you were expecting another big fight between Buffy and Hank. I thought about it, but decided if that happened, the fighting would never end. So this is a relatively calm chapter. I don't want this to drag on, so yes, they will be moving out soon. I might do a short update on what's happening in Sunnydale in the next chapter.
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