Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned here. If I did, the Buffyverse would be in real trouble. Oh, and I’d be a really rich guy, named Joss Whedon, or I’d be 20th Century FOX, in which case I’d kill myself for the betterment of the world at large.
Spoilers: Buffy episode “I Was Meant To Love You” and Angel episode “Reprise”
Writer’s Note: Thanks to Psyche’s Transcripts and Fanfiction (www.studiesinwords.de) for supplying me with transcripts for the end of the episodes.
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Buffy Summers entered her home with a smile. She felt better than she had for days. A little perspective on a relationship gone bad really helped to make things better.
“Hey Mom!” She called out. Her smile grew. Buffy could hardly tell anymore that Joyce had brain surgery four months ago. Everything in her life was starting to fall into some kind of order again. She turned and saw a vase of flowers sitting on the table next to the door. Most likely from her Mom’s date the night before. She carefully removed the card, “’Thanks for the lovely evening. See you soon? Brian.’ Still a couple of guys getting things right.” Buffy added after reading the card.
Buffy wanted to be wary for her Mom. Dating on the Hellmouth was a bad idea. After Joyce’s last... Buffy couldn’t bring herself to say boyfriend, turned out to be a robot who only cared about marrying Joyce, getting her to his “Bunker O Love, ” as Xander had put it, and keeping her there until she died, wouldn’t she get the idea that dating wasn’t a safe thing to do?
Still Buffy couldn’t say anything against her Mom dating. After everything the Summers women had gone through in the past year, Buffy couldn’t begrudge her Mom a little fun.
Buffy replaced the card and called up the stairs, “Hey Flower-Getting Lady! Do you want me to pick up Dawn from school?” Buffy frowned at the silence. Where was Joyce? “Mom?” She called questionably into the direction of the kitchen. Still nothing. “Mom?” She turned towards the living room. “What are you doing?” She questioned her mother’s leg, which is all of her mother she could see from around the couch.
She entered the living room and froze as she got a full view of Joyce. Joyce was crumpled on the couch, wide eyes staring blindly at the ceiling, an arm draped over the edge of the couch. Joyce was still.
“Mom?” Buffy asked quietly, fear entering her voice. “Mom?” She asked again, even quieter. This couldn’t be happening. Everything had been going so well. “Mommy?”
She stumbled forward, hand reaching out for her mother’s arm, tears forming in her eyes. Her fingertips touched her mother’s skin. There was no mistaking the chill. In her destined vocation as Vampire Slayer, Buffy knew what Death felt like, and it covered her mother completely. Buffy jerked her hand back and hugged it against her chest. She backpedaled out of the room, across the entryway and into the dining room. She groped for the phone and punched in the numbers she knew by heart, while being blinded by tears. As the phone began to ring, she backed up into a corner and slid down to the floor.
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