Faith and I had broken through the emotional barrier just enough to have a casual conversation at the hospital. She had even made a joke at some point, and our laughter seemed inappropriate somehow yet not at all unwelcome. After what seemed like 10 or 15 minutes, Xander came in and joined us, adding his own unique form of comfort. I could tell that they had been spending a lot of time together and for a brief moment jealousy passed through me but I pushed it away, realizing just how selfish I was being. But I couldn't help it.
The three of us went over the facts of this virus, but they were very few and none of us had input that could be considered a revelation by any means. Xander told me that Giles would be calling him with more information from his "research" but it was doubtful he would give any substantial leads. I couldn't help but wonder why Giles would leave the country during a crisis such as the one before us, especially to pursue what seemed like a dead-end. Things had changed since the good old days of "stake-dust, stake-dust, ok you're done for the night" back in Sunnydale.
Before long we were recounting the past months of our lives, filling in the little details. Xander was very vague, and quiet, which was unlike him. Faith, on the other hand, seemed more than willing to share every tiny detail from working nights in a porn shop for two weeks (she left upon learning that it would be her job to wipe down the walls of the video booth), to joining an elite biker club in San Francisco. That too fell through, unfortunately, when they discovered that she didn't actually own a motorcycle or know anything about them aside from the few bits of lingo she had picked up from watching Monster Garage.
It was a quarter past twelve before Xander suggested that we leave to get something to eat. This was the part I had been dreading the most, because leaving Faith's side meant not knowing if she would be turned the next time we saw one another. As if reading my mind, she looked at me warmly and mumbled something about not going anywhere until we returned.
"We'll try to sneak in a quarter pounder for ya' then too." Xander said, walking over to the side of the bed and pulling her into a hug. Their affection was so familiar in nature that I couldn't keep my feelings of jealousy shoved down this time and I actually turned my face away to avoid seeing their embrace. When I turned back again, Xander was staring at me as if to say "your turn, go for it." Believe me, the temptation was there, but I couldn't bring myself to touch her.
"It's good to see you." I managed to say, quite successful in sounding like an idiot, I'm certain.
"You too." Faith replied, her lower lip trembling. I could tell she was about to cry, and I could feel that I was too, but instead of choosing to bury myself in her arms and beg to never be released from them, I began walking around the bed and towards the door.
"We'll be back soon." I casually called out, met with only a slight nod and pleading eyes from my former-lover, eyes that I chose to ignore along with everything else I was pretending didn't exist about her. And once we were in the hallway, I didn't turn back.
Xander and I ate the near equivalent of one whole cow dispersed evenly through 8 McDonald's sandwiches for lunch. We had skipped breakfast so it only seemed natural. However somewhere along the way we forgot to save one of the burgers for Faith so we ended up going through the drive-thru twice. It reminded me of the times when Willow and I were in school and Xander would pick us up and take us out to eat, and we'd always do something crazy like order one thing at a time and wait for the drive-thru attendant to ask "will that be everything?" before adding the next item, or we would put the car in reverse and back through the entire way.
I thought about that, and thought about Anya too, but didn't mention any of it to him knowing that he already had plenty on his mind.
Driving back to the hospital, he turned the radio down and spoke slowly, as if choosing each word with great care.
"I've decided that when we get there, I'll go ahead and take her food up but won't stay." Xander paused to check traffic before pulling out, and took a moment to think before speaking once more. "That way you and I can talk to this friend of mine. He's a science major at OSU but he's staying in town to study the virus, and he thinks it was created by a scientifically minded being, and not something - or someone - using magic."
"Do you think that will help us?"
"I'm not sure, but at least it can get things narrowed down. I know jack shit when it comes to science but I know even less about magic. So how much do you think it's really going to help?" His question was clearly rhetorical. "But any lead is better than nothing."
"Maybe we should start making a list of things we know for certain about this, like certain reactions that people have had once being... infected... and we can see how many of them are the same. Or not the same..." I lost my train of thought completely as we pulled in to the hospital parking lot once again. Fortunately, Xander didn't even seem to notice, as he was probably thinking about the girl inside as well, wondering how long she had. I felt incredibly nauseas once more and reached over to grab his shoulder before he could open the driver's side door and step out.
His eyes stared questioningly at me, frozen in place with one hand on the door handle and the other holding a grease-stained paper McDonald's sack. The only sounds I could hear were the sounds of my own blood rushing through my body and inside my head, and I wondered if I was going to pass out, but didn't feel concerned. All I felt was fear.
"I'm not going to lose her" was the only thing I actually realized for certain I was saying, before the severity of my desperation came fully to light and I broke down completely. In that instant Xander's arms were around me, awkwardly holding me with a gearshift between us. He was saying something to me, and I was saying things back to him, but it was as though even though I was talking, I had no idea what I was talking about, all I knew was that I didn't want Faith to die and it hurt more than anything had ever hurt me before. Later I would realize that the pain was so extreme because it was the first time I hadn't been able to block something out and be completely numb. Later I would also realize that losing my mother had been sudden - there was no time to mourn properly or to think about whether or not she could still be saved. But those conceptions would all come long after, and in the car with Xander there was no logic to be had, only raw emotion and only the knowledge of my purest desire.
It could have been an hour or five minutes and I wouldn't have known the difference, all I knew was that eventually my hearing was restored and the blood stopped pounding inside my head. I blinked a few times and everything seemed darker, reminding me of how everything changes color and tone when you glance directly at the sun by accident, then look away. I couldn't even say for certain if I had retained consciousness, because my panic had left me someplace where my mind was unaware of reality.
"You ok now?" Xander whispered to me, pulling slightly away to hold me at arm's length. He studied my face with grave concern and held my shoulders as if afraid that I would spontaneously fall out of the car (disregard the closed and locked passenger's side door obstructing such an event).
"I think so." I replied, quite fazed.
"Do you want to go in and see her?"
I wiped the quickly drying tears from my cheeks, completely indifferent to the possibility of my smeared concealer, mascara, eyeliner, and blush - the kind of thing I was typically preoccupied with. "I don't know if I can... not yet. Just tell me if she's all right, please. Don't make me wait. Please."
Xander solemnly nodded and stretched towards me once more to plant a light kiss between my eyes before popping his door open and practically jumping out of the car. His hasty, long strides carried him across the parking lot in seconds and I watched through the windshield until he was completely in the building and out of my sight then, out of impulse, I began to search the car for cigarettes. I was surprised when I didn't find them, since nearly every person I had known in Detroit always had at least one spare pack in their car regardless of whether they smoked or not. Then I remembered that it was Xander, my soft, moral, good-natured former best friend who found anything unhealthy to be repulsive and then some, unlike Faith who had always insisted "Hey, a slayer dies young, I get what I can get while I'm still kickin'."
I wondered if she would be in the hospital sneaking drags at her unfiltered Lucky Strikes and the image brought a smile to my face.
It's strange how we had broken up because we believed so firmly in the concept that we would be better off apart. I had been totally certain that I was the one making her life miserable and if only she could be without me, she would find happiness and contentment. Although from what I could gather when we broke up, she believed the same to be true only in reverse. Now I found myself wishing it had never happened, wishing that we could have spent the last 10 months together instead of apart; even if we had been angry and fighting and suffering from extreme LBD* at least she would know that I loved her and maybe together we could have already worked out the solution to this virus.
My mind is drifting, wandering into fantasy realms of thought involving my recreated presence in Faith's biker bar experiences which she had recounted to me earlier, and I smile slightly at the image, just as I notice Xander walking up to the car.
"She's all right," he says the instant he opens the door and sits down, "she actually looks better than she did this morning. It might be the burger, but it's probably just you."
I blush. I know that I'm doing it, too, because I can see myself in the side mirror. But I don't care, all I feel is a great sense of relief and hope, wanting to capitalize on the opportunity to find out more and stop this thing now while she is still herself.
At Xander's apartment we close the blinds just enough to keep the obtrusive sunlight out, finding that is proving to be an uncharacteristically bright day for Portland in the winter. Both of us sit on either sides of his rectangular pinewood dining table, studying books that tell of ancient and rare diseases in the low light. It's just like the days back in the Magic Box, and the high school Library before that.
"Here's one," he pipes up, breaking the silence.
We have been reading without a word between the two of us for over an hour, and it will very soon be dusk.
"This says `In 1823 blah blah man discovered superimposed... ok I lost it." Xander stared down at the page in frustration, tracing the words with the tip of his finger. "Oh! Ok here it is. `1678 a strange ailment was reported by the working class of the area ruled under the Chosn dynasty'... blah blah... `now known as North Korea'... `reports of an illness similar to that of dysentery or the influenza virus lasting several days that would result in the dead coming back as evil spirits to haunt the living and cast their spell of death upon all they encountered. Although excused as mere superstition, the frequent accounts of this strange occurrence made the possibility of demon or magic activity all the more realistic. No known accounts of recurrence'."
"That's it?"
"Well yeah except for the part about the dynasty, which I skipped, because I don't think it's very relevant."
I had been in Portland almost 24 hours and that was the only factual evidence we had to go from. Needless to say I was disappointed with this lacking information.
"That gives us some place to start," Xander offered optimistically. "At least now we know this isn't the first time something of this nature has happened and we can work off that. Besides, we still have Lonnie to meet with later about the science stuff."
"I'm trying to look at this positively Xan, but I can't help being afraid that we'll be chasing dead ends while the real answer is under our noses and we can't figure it out."
"Doing something is better than nothing."
"But doing the wrong something might make us too late."
His eyes met mine and he slouched down further into his chair across from me. "I know you're scared, but we'll do it in time. We'll beat this."
His words were just comforting enough that I believe them, and buried my nose within another book, certain that I was coming that much closer to the next essential clue.
*LBD: Lesbian Bed Death
October, 1998 Sunnydale, California
"You can come up if you want, but the place looks like shit."
I tried not to allow my nervousness to show, wiping my sweaty hands against my jeans as subtly as I could manage. "Ye-yeah. Sure, you know, we have a lot of slayer-ish catching up to do and there's only one way to do it. Well, two ways to do it. Oh god, not do IT, I mean, to catch up with-" The very instant that I looked into her eyes, all my motivation to speak was destroyed. She was staring with such an obvious lust, an animal desire that I had never before seen in another human being's face, and it took my breath away. Her thoughts and stimulus were totally lost on me, and I hadn't noticed the fact that she had been checking out the finer points of my feminine figure since the moment we met earlier that night.
I did know, however, that I wanted her too, in a way that I had never wanted another girl before. Sure I had always been acceptant of that "it's not the gender, it's the person" ideal which even my mother was supportive of in her own way, but had never found myself attracted to anyone of the fairer sex. Now Faith had waltzed in and claimed Sunnydale, claimed slaying, and claimed me. I hadn't been able to look anywhere except where she was standing for the entire duration of the night... and now that she was so boldly before me I was led closer out of pure captivation.
She must have felt it too, because she moved to where her body was mere inches away from mine and she hesitantly reached out to take hold of my arms, then my sides. The look in Faith's eyes was still full of lust but also question, as if believing I would turn and run away. Part of me wanted to... I was scared to death. But the rest of me glanced down and was filled with need, the need to feel her hard body through her cotton shirt, then to feel plain skin against my fingertips, and to feel her lips, her thighs... her entire body against me with nothing between us. Instinctively my head turned towards her slender neck, breathing in the scent of her cologne and her hair without even realizing it, only knowing that I was closer to her than before and her hands seemed tighter around my sides. We stayed like that for a moment, her hands on my waist, my hands over hers and no other part of our bodies touching. I could feel her breath hot and rapid against my cheek and it occurred to me that being close to her without looking into her eyes made this somehow easier, as if I wasn't admitting that I wanted it because we could have been any two people at that given moment. Any two people but not Faith, not Buffy, the chosen two.
The instant that her lips brushed against my ear, the line had been crossed, and I knew that I couldn't pull away. She softly, tentatively kissed down my jaw one gradual inch at a time and the sensation was inconceivably intense.
"Do you feel t-that too?" I stammered, my own voice bringing me back to the reality of just who we were, and exactly what I was doing while on the street outside of a motel building.
"All I feel is how much I want you."
Shivers shot through me hearing her say that, low and calm and breathily against my neck. Maybe I was wrong before, maybe now we had reached that point of no return... but either way I was certain I couldn't change my mind, even if it meant giving a part of me to Faith that I had never given to another girl. My affirmative moan was encouragement enough for her, because in an instant she had stepped away and began walking towards the door, pulling me, gently behind her while holding on to my wrist. I tried, like a `good girl' to `realize the consequences of my actions' or to `reconsider the danger of the situation' and basically talk myself out of something before it even began. But it had begun already. I felt it - I felt HER close to me and the lingering sensation of her lips even when they were no longer on my skin, as we were walking to the door and she was fumbling for her keys. I also felt an arousal so strong that it ached, my blood pounding feverishly and demanding attention between my legs. That I felt even more as she pulled me through the door and slammed it behind me, then led me with no reservations to her bed, gently pushing me back. It all happened so quickly and neither one of us said a thing, it was as though her mind was made up and she didn't even need to ask whether or not I wanted her too. No, the only sound was the door and then the strain of the bedsprings as my weight came against the mattress, followed by a second creaking sound as she crawled over me, wrapping her legs around my waist and leaning down immediately to once again bring her lips to my neck. Faith kissed the same places, only harder now, even biting slightly along my jaw as my hands found their way to her back. It was so fast that I had no time to observe the intimate details of her body on top of mine or notice anything in her room other than our bodies and the bed. The only thing I could even comprehend was the pressure building that I longed so desperately for her to cease, to give me fulfillment that somehow I knew even then would leave me hungry for more.
Her teeth nipped at my earlobe and she pulled just enough to send shivers through me which seemed to stop in one central area, and my hips thrust upward to press against any available part of her. As soon as the contact was made, Faith groaned something incoherent against my shoulder, her breath hot and her voice wilder, lower, and sexier than I had ever heard it before. The contact seemed to make her even MORE impatient, which was hard to believe since barely two minutes had passed since we even entered the room.
Faith's right hand made its way over my shoulder to pull my shirt aside, exposing more of my skin for her to kiss and pull roughly with her teeth. I was certain that she was leaving behind dozens of tiny bite marks, but I didn't care by any means, especially as her hand continued to move lower. She groped quickly at my breast before sliding her fingers directly down to the fly of my pants and stopping there for only a moment. I wanted so badly for her to finish what we had begun, to take me over the figurative edge and allow me satisfaction. But also I wanted it to last for hours and even though we had barely known each other for a day, I was well-aware that once she had taken all she wanted then I would be out the door, and that reality scared me.
Outside the apartments a car drove by, the headlights hitting her window at a perfect angle for only a short second, but it was enough for me to see her eyes and capture the expression on her face. She was paused in time as though unsure what to do, holding her body over mine and staring down at my lips as though about to kiss me, and I wanted to feel her tongue against my own, wanted to lose myself in the intimacy of her mouth pressed warmly to mine. I was so expectant of her kiss to satisfy my need, so certain, that I didn't even notice the waistband of my pants loosening and my zipper being pulled down until her fingertips were pressing at the hem of my cotton panties. It all served to make me feel so childish, so foolish. Of course... why had I expected her to kiss me, when it was only about one thing? Intimacy had little to do with the sex we were having that night.
Still I moaned aloud when her fingers slid past the barrier of my waistband and made contact with my curls. I wondered for a brief second if she was disappointed that I wasn't shaved... there - but she made no indication, in fact, her breath catching seemed to show complete approval.
"Oh god, I need this..." Faith mumbled passionately, biting my neck as I cried out in reaction to the sweet pain her teeth caused, burying into my flesh. The irony of her fetish for biting me in such a way was not lost on me, and I could not deny that it was one we shared.
Suddenly all the sensations caught up to me as fast as I could register them. My nails were digging mercilessly into her back; her mouth nipping, pulling, sucking at every available and exposed area of skin along the left side of my neck; her fingers suddenly lowering to my slit and discovering what I already knew - that I had been wet and waiting for her for most the night.
She dipped her middle finger down just enough to coat the tip of it with my juices and I begged for more.
"Please... fu..." I moaned out in desperation but I was unable to finish. Saying `fuck' just didn't seem right, even though I knew it was what she probably expected. Asking for such a thing was foreign to my vocabulary.
But Faith didn't notice, she merely honored my request. Without hesitating she pushed her finger lower and then inside my pussy as deep as it would go. I cried out in pleasure and surprise, having expected a warning of some sort - after all, with Angel it had been so slow, he was so patient and gentle.
This was anything but gentle, anything but patient.
Her body rocked above me and I could tell that she was pressing the back of her hand into her crotch, grinding through her pants while buried inside me. She added a second finger and I moaned aloud again, this time gouging into her back with my nails unintentionally, not even caring or wondering if I had broken the skin or torn through her shirt.
Her two fingers curled and I felt a wave of pleasure. I knew what was coming... specifically: Me.
Faith could feel it too; feel my inner walls clenching tighter and maybe even feel the pulse of my heartbeat growing faster the way that I could feel hers. I could hear by the way she was gasping for air that she was close, too, and my last thought was how incredibly sexy it was that she could come just by riding the back of her hand while it was inside of me, and then I lost control.
Our moans filled the room - so loud they were nearly screams. She cursed aloud as though begging for mercy and simultaneously begged for me to touch her. Without giving it a second thought as I came so near the edge, I lowered my hand and innocently pressed against the front of her jeans where her knuckles had been only a moment before. However it was enough for her, and between her shortened breaths she demanded me to come.
The orgasm washed through me until I felt I could barely breathe, and after several seconds the sound of her moans and cries were drowned out by the blood rushing to my brain like someone pounding a bass drum inside my skull.
And when it was over she couldn't even collapse on top of me... her body was already fully pressed to mine when it went limp and her fingers stayed buried deep inside.
I'm not sure how long we stayed in that position, I fell asleep immediately. I couldn't have stayed awake if the world depended on it because that was just how exhausted she had made me. I must have slept for an hour or two because the next time I opened my eyes the room was lighter and I could tell that the sun would be rising within a matter of minutes. Part of being a slayer is knowing how to think like a vampire sometimes, and I guess in a way, this was one of those times, though not one I will ever be proud of.
She had moved in her sleep and we were no longer in the tell- tale sexual pose that we had been in but now rather she was wrapped around me tenderly. Her face was buried against my neck and her left arm draped over my chest while her legs were intertwined intimately with mine.
For lack of better phrasing; I panicked.
As I pushed her off of me she opened her eyes and mumbled something about how I could stay if I wanted. Then quickly she stopped herself, as though realizing that what she had said would somehow define her as weak, and she told me that I could also go home, because she would be leaving soon anyway.
Later that afternoon upon seeing how crushed she was, I would tell myself that I had only done it because she was going to do it to me first. But the look in her eyes that morning as I pushed her off me and she awoke to embrace a new day and my first official abandonment of her said otherwise. She was ready for the long-haul. She was ready to give a part of herself to me. She was ready to love me then and there.
I just refused to see it.
I refused to see it when I dressed myself without looking at her, laying there on the bed, wondering what to say to me. I refused to see it when I slammed the door and walked back to my house. I refused to see it when she killed Alan Finch. I refused to see it when she tried to kill Angel. I refused to see it when she tried to kill herself... when she went to prison for redemption, for me.
So many times I told myself that she was the slut, the murderer, the rogue. I told myself that if we had tried to make it a relationship, she would end up only cheating on me anyway, so it didn't matter if I just fucked her now and again and then left her out to dry. After all, that's what she would do to me if she had the chance, wasn't it? I kept thinking that she was the one who wouldn't give over her emotions to me when I wanted them so badly, but the more I truly took the time to know and understand her the more I realized that she had been ready and willing from the moment we first laid eyes on each other. Unfortunately it took me years before I discovered the woman she really was... if I ever really did at all even after living with her.
Looking back on that it's no wonder that we couldn't last longer than 10 months once we finally were together. After all how can a relationship last when I'd believed for so long that we would be doomed the moment we began. Maybe it was karma for me treating her so terribly for five years. Or maybe it was me still running away from the happiness that she had to offer me and I continued to fail to accept over and over again.How could I ever be so blind to think that Faith and I were not destined to spend our lives dedicated solely to loving each other?
February, 2005 Portland, Oregon
Faith and I had broken through the emotional barrier just enough to have a casual conversation at the hospital. She had even made a joke at some point, and our laughter seemed inappropriate somehow yet not at all unwelcome. After what seemed like 10 or 15 minutes, Xander came in and joined us, adding his own unique form of comfort. I could tell that they had been spending a lot of time together and for a brief moment jealousy passed through me but I pushed it away, realizing just how selfish I was being. But I couldn't help it.
The three of us went over the facts of this virus, but they were very few and none of us had input that could be considered a revelation by any means. Xander told me that Giles would be calling him with more information from his "research" but it was doubtful he would give any substantial leads. I couldn't help but wonder why Giles would leave the country during a crisis such as the one before us, especially to pursue what seemed like a dead-end. Things had changed since the good old days of "stake-dust, stake-dust, ok you're done for the night" back in Sunnydale.
Before long we were recounting the past months of our lives, filling in the little details. Xander was very vague, and quiet, which was unlike him. Faith, on the other hand, seemed more than willing to share every tiny detail from working nights in a porn shop for two weeks (she left upon learning that it would be her job to wipe down the walls of the video booth), to joining an elite biker club in San Francisco. That too fell through, unfortunately, when they discovered that she didn't actually own a motorcycle or know anything about them aside from the few bits of lingo she had picked up from watching Monster Garage.
It was a quarter past twelve before Xander suggested that we leave to get something to eat. This was the part I had been dreading the most, because leaving Faith's side meant not knowing if she would be turned the next time we saw one another. As if reading my mind, she looked at me warmly and mumbled something about not going anywhere until we returned.
"We'll try to sneak in a quarter pounder for ya' then too." Xander said, walking over to the side of the bed and pulling her into a hug. Their affection was so familiar in nature that I couldn't keep my feelings of jealousy shoved down this time and I actually turned my face away to avoid seeing their embrace. When I turned back again, Xander was staring at me as if to say "your turn, go for it." Believe me, the temptation was there, but I couldn't bring myself to touch her.
"It's good to see you." I managed to say, quite successful in sounding like an idiot, I'm certain.
"You too." Faith replied, her lower lip trembling. I could tell she was about to cry, and I could feel that I was too, but instead of choosing to bury myself in her arms and beg to never be released from them, I began walking around the bed and towards the door.
"We'll be back soon." I casually called out, met with only a slight nod and pleading eyes from my former-lover, eyes that I chose to ignore along with everything else I was pretending didn't exist about her. And once we were in the hallway, I didn't turn back.
Xander and I ate the near equivalent of one whole cow dispersed evenly through 8 McDonald's sandwiches for lunch. We had skipped breakfast so it only seemed natural. However somewhere along the way we forgot to save one of the burgers for Faith so we ended up going through the drive-thru twice. It reminded me of the times when Willow and I were in school and Xander would pick us up and take us out to eat, and we'd always do something crazy like order one thing at a time and wait for the drive-thru attendant to ask "will that be everything?" before adding the next item, or we would put the car in reverse and back through the entire way.
I thought about that, and thought about Anya too, but didn't mention any of it to him knowing that he already had plenty on his mind.
Driving back to the hospital, he turned the radio down and spoke slowly, as if choosing each word with great care.
"I've decided that when we get there, I'll go ahead and take her food up but won't stay." Xander paused to check traffic before pulling out, and took a moment to think before speaking once more. "That way you and I can talk to this friend of mine. He's a science major at OSU but he's staying in town to study the virus, and he thinks it was created by a scientifically minded being, and not something - or someone - using magic."
"Do you think that will help us?"
"I'm not sure, but at least it can get things narrowed down. I know jack shit when it comes to science but I know even less about magic. So how much do you think it's really going to help?" His question was clearly rhetorical. "But any lead is better than nothing."
"Maybe we should start making a list of things we know for certain about this, like certain reactions that people have had once being... infected... and we can see how many of them are the same. Or not the same..." I lost my train of thought completely as we pulled in to the hospital parking lot once again. Fortunately, Xander didn't even seem to notice, as he was probably thinking about the girl inside as well, wondering how long she had. I felt incredibly nauseas once more and reached over to grab his shoulder before he could open the driver's side door and step out.
His eyes stared questioningly at me, frozen in place with one hand on the door handle and the other holding a grease-stained paper McDonald's sack. The only sounds I could hear were the sounds of my own blood rushing through my body and inside my head, and I wondered if I was going to pass out, but didn't feel concerned. All I felt was fear.
"I'm not going to lose her" was the only thing I actually realized for certain I was saying, before the severity of my desperation came fully to light and I broke down completely. In that instant Xander's arms were around me, awkwardly holding me with a gearshift between us. He was saying something to me, and I was saying things back to him, but it was as though even though I was talking, I had no idea what I was talking about, all I knew was that I didn't want Faith to die and it hurt more than anything had ever hurt me before. Later I would realize that the pain was so extreme because it was the first time I hadn't been able to block something out and be completely numb. Later I would also realize that losing my mother had been sudden - there was no time to mourn properly or to think about whether or not she could still be saved. But those conceptions would all come long after, and in the car with Xander there was no logic to be had, only raw emotion and only the knowledge of my purest desire.
It could have been an hour or five minutes and I wouldn't have known the difference, all I knew was that eventually my hearing was restored and the blood stopped pounding inside my head. I blinked a few times and everything seemed darker, reminding me of how everything changes color and tone when you glance directly at the sun by accident, then look away. I couldn't even say for certain if I had retained consciousness, because my panic had left me someplace where my mind was unaware of reality.
"You ok now?" Xander whispered to me, pulling slightly away to hold me at arm's length. He studied my face with grave concern and held my shoulders as if afraid that I would spontaneously fall out of the car (disregard the closed and locked passenger's side door obstructing such an event).
"I think so." I replied, quite fazed.
"Do you want to go in and see her?"
I wiped the quickly drying tears from my cheeks, completely indifferent to the possibility of my smeared concealer, mascara, eyeliner, and blush - the kind of thing I was typically preoccupied with. "I don't know if I can... not yet. Just tell me if she's all right, please. Don't make me wait. Please."
Xander solemnly nodded and stretched towards me once more to plant a light kiss between my eyes before popping his door open and practically jumping out of the car. His hasty, long strides carried him across the parking lot in seconds and I watched through the windshield until he was completely in the building and out of my sight then, out of impulse, I began to search the car for cigarettes. I was surprised when I didn't find them, since nearly every person I had known in Detroit always had at least one spare pack in their car regardless of whether they smoked or not. Then I remembered that it was Xander, my soft, moral, good-natured former best friend who found anything unhealthy to be repulsive and then some, unlike Faith who had always insisted "Hey, a slayer dies young, I get what I can get while I'm still kickin'."
I wondered if she would be in the hospital sneaking drags at her unfiltered Lucky Strikes and the image brought a smile to my face.
It's strange how we had broken up because we believed so firmly in the concept that we would be better off apart. I had been totally certain that I was the one making her life miserable and if only she could be without me, she would find happiness and contentment. Although from what I could gather when we broke up, she believed the same to be true only in reverse. Now I found myself wishing it had never happened, wishing that we could have spent the last 10 months together instead of apart; even if we had been angry and fighting and suffering from extreme LBD* at least she would know that I loved her and maybe together we could have already worked out the solution to this virus.
My mind is drifting, wandering into fantasy realms of thought involving my recreated presence in Faith's biker bar experiences which she had recounted to me earlier, and I smile slightly at the image, just as I notice Xander walking up to the car.
"She's all right," he says the instant he opens the door and sits down, "she actually looks better than she did this morning. It might be the burger, but it's probably just you."
I blush. I know that I'm doing it, too, because I can see myself in the side mirror. But I don't care, all I feel is a great sense of relief and hope, wanting to capitalize on the opportunity to find out more and stop this thing now while she is still herself.
At Xander's apartment we close the blinds just enough to keep the obtrusive sunlight out, finding that is proving to be an uncharacteristically bright day for Portland in the winter. Both of us sit on either sides of his rectangular pinewood dining table, studying books that tell of ancient and rare diseases in the low light. It's just like the days back in the Magic Box, and the high school Library before that.
"Here's one," he pipes up, breaking the silence.
We have been reading without a word between the two of us for over an hour, and it will very soon be dusk.
"This says `In 1823 blah blah man discovered superimposed... ok I lost it." Xander stared down at the page in frustration, tracing the words with the tip of his finger. "Oh! Ok here it is. `1678 a strange ailment was reported by the working class of the area ruled under the Chosn dynasty'... blah blah... `now known as North Korea'... `reports of an illness similar to that of dysentery or the influenza virus lasting several days that would result in the dead coming back as evil spirits to haunt the living and cast their spell of death upon all they encountered. Although excused as mere superstition, the frequent accounts of this strange occurrence made the possibility of demon or magic activity all the more realistic. No known accounts of recurrence'."
"That's it?"
"Well yeah except for the part about the dynasty, which I skipped, because I don't think it's very relevant."
I had been in Portland almost 24 hours and that was the only factual evidence we had to go from. Needless to say I was disappointed with this lacking information.
"That gives us some place to start," Xander offered optimistically. "At least now we know this isn't the first time something of this nature has happened and we can work off that. Besides, we still have Lonnie to meet with later about the science stuff."
"I'm trying to look at this positively Xan, but I can't help being afraid that we'll be chasing dead ends while the real answer is under our noses and we can't figure it out."
"Doing something is better than nothing."
"But doing the wrong something might make us too late."
His eyes met mine and he slouched down further into his chair across from me. "I know you're scared, but we'll do it in time. We'll beat this."His words were just comforting enough that I believe them, and buried my nose within another book, certain that I was coming that much closer to the next essential clue.
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