By Julia Anne

AUTHOR'S NOTE: After Joyce's death, Riley comes back to visit Sunnydale and the slayer he left so far behind. It's from Riley's POV.

 

As I drive into my old town I get the feeling that I don't know it anymore. It seems darker, more uncertain. A place where things you thought could never happen. Would never happen. Do.

I should've come sooner. I would have, if I'd known. But news doesn't get to the far ends of the earth very quickly. That was the point of going so far away. To forget about this place. I wasn't ever going to come back. Yet, as soon as Graham told me the news I was on a plane, cursing myself for not getting here faster. I've missed the funeral.

I just can't believe she's dead. Joyce and I were never that close, but she was always nice to me. I never got the third degree or any lectures. You could say she trusted me with her child, except anyone knows that it's impossible to control Buffy. The most absurd thing is, I almost didn't find out she was gone. The only reason I did, is Graham just happened to get a copy of the Sunnydale Paper, from Captain Wallace. He'd had to make a return trip to pick up a new charge and had left it in the back of the chopper. It was about two weeks old when he found it. That was only a day ago, though it seems like much longer. He'd called my name and then pointed to the thick black print, almost unsure it was actually there.

 

Joyce Summers died suddenly on February 25th of Complications due to a brain tumour. She will be sorely missed by daughters Buffy, 20, and Dawn, 14.

 

And that was it. A couple of sentences, lost in the bottom left corner of the printed page. It didn't do her justice. It wasn't fair.

I should've called. But I didn't think to in my numb rush to get here. I haven't been able to think clearly since I read those words. How could this happen? I was there when they said she was ok. Those doctors looked us in the eye, looked Buffy in the eye, and said that she was ok. And now, only a month later, I find myself back where I was, though so much has changed. Back in her driveway. Maybe it's because this is my chance to finally be there for her, the way she was with me. But I don't expect her to just let me take care of her. I guess I really just need to see her. Make sure she's going to be ok. I take a deep breath and walk up to the door. Here goes nothing.

I take the cold, dark knocker into my palm and bang it twice. I remember how I used to feel outside this door, on this step. A rush of excitement would breeze through me. The thought of her scent, her hair, her smile would taunt me until the door would open and I'd get to look into those deep green eyes. I loved her more then anything.

Now all I can do is shudder. I almost hope that no one will be home.

The door creeks open and I am staring into those green eyes. But they aren't Buffy's.

"Hey Kid--." I begin. But, finally, I realise that she isn't a kid. Not now. Not anymore. Her face is pale, her eyes red and puffy. But that's not all. She looks older. Wiser. She's learned how unforgiving the world can be. What it's like to be alone.

She looks me over twice, taking in that it's me standing there and not Giles or Willow or Xander.

"Buf-," she begins to call. I put up my hand and stop her mid syllable. I place my hands on both her shaky shoulders and look into her eyes. She looks like she's trying to glare at me but can't seem to muster up enough emotion. It's all been drained in the past two weeks. I guess now she knows what it's like to have someone leave you. And, in her mind, that's what I did to Buffy. So she hates me. Hopefully not permanently.

"Dawn, I'm so sorry," I say, as if I could possibly understand what it's like to be a fourteen year old girl without a mother. Her glare softens into a tear filled stare.

"Th-Thanks," she stammers. And before either one of can say anything else I see her. Or someone who strongly resembles my ex-girlfriend. She is paler, even thinner then she used to be, and dark circles shadow her eyes. Tear tracks seem to be permanently etched on her cheeks, though I get the feeling she hasn't cried much. They've just appeared, knowing they belong. She looks at me for what seems like an eternity before it registers in her head that I'm there.

"Riley…" she says softly, almost as if it's a question. Our eyes meet.

"Hey man," I hear from beside me. Our gaze is broken and I turn to see Xander, who must've appeared from the kitchen.

"Hey," I reply, and we shake hands and exchange a glance of understanding. I think he always liked my relationship with Buffy. He knew I was safe for her, which matters quite a great deal after you see your friend's heart ripped to shreds by a vampire.

"Dawnster," he says, "what do you say we go for a walk. You could use some fresh air, and ice cream could be involved."

"Ok," Dawn replies quietly. "But I don't think I want the ice cream part. I'm not in the mood…"

"You should eat." Buffy says. Dawn turns almost resentfully to face her.

"It's not like you have--," her voice softens when her eyes meet with Buffy's pleading stare. She's forced to absorb the image of someone else who knows what she feels. The utter agony. "Ok," she says, looking at the floor.

And before I know it Xander and Dawn have disappeared from the room, leaving only me and her.

She looks so young, up there on the stairs. So small and fragile. Like any sudden movement might break her.

"Buffy, I'm…I'm so sorry." I don't know what else to say. I can't make this better.

I look into her eyes and before I know it she's in my arms. She's smaller then she was when I left, but she still fits perfectly. She smells the same, feels the same. I want to relish in this moment of finally having her to myself, but I know I can't. It wouldn't be right. So instead I pull her close to me and kiss the top of her golden head. Lord, I missed her.

"I'm sorry," I say again, "I would've come sooner, but I didn't know. I only found out yesterday."

"It's ok."

We separate and I take her hand and guide her to the couch. I remember sitting here, across from her, in happier times. I wish I could rewind.

I watch as she trembles. Has she been shaking like that this whole time? I brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Buffy…"

She looks down, her eyes filled with tears, which appear as though they may fall at any second.

"Tell me about the jungle," she whispers dazedly.

"What?"

"The jungle. What's it like?"

"Well," I say, finally understanding. She doesn't need to talk about her mother. That's probably all she's heard about and thought about for the last two weeks. She needs a story. Something to keep her insides alive. To keep the demons out from within her head. Just for a little while.

"The trees are so tall that you'd think they'd go on forever. Right up into the clouds."

"Mmm hmm," she utters delicately.

She looks so tired.

I guide her head to my lap and begin to stoke her hair.

"There are about a hundred different kinds of birds, all different colours. Purple, pink, yellow, orange, blue, sometimes mixed. And they all sing. But each one has it's own special song."

"Wouldn't it get kinda noisy?" she whispers faintly. I smile.

"A little. Except all of the songs fit together to form this symphony. Everything just….works. As one…."

I can feel her breathing even out. She's fast asleep. I bend down to kiss her head. My angel.

I scoop her up in my arms and carry her upstairs. Feel her limp in my grasp. Completely trusting. I can't believe she could still trust me after what happened. What I did.

But it's my turn, and I want a shot. For once, I'm taking care of her.

*******************************************************************

When I get downstairs I see that Xander and Dawn are back. Dawn is sitting on the couch staring blankly at the TV, while Xander shuffles things about in the kitchen.

"How's she doing?" he asks. I sit at the counter.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Well, I guess you could say that Buffy isn't at her greatest. Then again, who can tell? She's so blank it's scary."

"Tell me about it."

Some dishes clatter. I hear Dawn rise from her seat and creep up the stairs.

"So," he says. "You gonna stay?"

That one strikes me like a pile of bricks. It hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Um…I..I don't..--."

"There's something you should know."

"What?" I ask. What else could there be.

"Buffy, she went after you the night you left." My eyebrows shoot up."I guess she decided a little too late…I mean I saw her run after you, but then morning came and there was no you, so I just assumed she didn't make it in time."

"Yup.." I say, shocked. She came after me? It makes me feel a little better, for some odd reason. Thinking that maybe she hurt over me. At least I know she felt something towards me. But does it change anything? I feel awful. If I'd stayed I could've been here for her when her mother died. But would she have opened up to me? To anyone? I doubt it. But what about fate? Maybe she was supposed to miss me. We needed to be apart. It hurt me like hell, but I just didn't think she'd ever really love me. She never said it. Not through that whole year. But maybe she couldn't. The clanging of a plate hitting the floor causes me to come out of my confused daze and look back at Xander, who has managed to find more things to shuffle around in the kitchen. He picks the plate up, which is surprisingly in one piece.

"You gotta love these new-fangeled plastic dishes," he says, "Who thought that up cause they should be president."

He is joking but his voice falls flat. I look at him more closely. He's also different. Well, mainly his eyes have changed. They go deeper, they conceal more now. True pain and regret. I'd forgotten how long he'd known Joyce. This must be hard for him, which explains the constant fruitless busy-work. I guess he needs to feel like he's helping Buffy in someway, if she won't talk to him. I know that feeling.

"I'm going to go check on her." I say.

With that, I climb the stairs once more.

As soon as I reach her bedroom door I know something isn't right. I can hear crying coming from inside. I push the door open a little, just so I can see in. I'm surprised by what I see.

Buffy is sitting on her bed leaning against the headboard. The quiet sobbing isn't coming from her, but from Dawn who is curled up on the bed, her head in her big sister's lap. I watch as Buffy runs her hand through Dawn's long brown hair and repeats over and over; "Shhh, Baby. I know. Shhh." When she leans down to kiss the top of her head, I notice the tears that are forming in her own eyes. The ones that have been waiting so long to come out. And they stream down her cheeks. Like tiny little rivers of bungling sadness.

She doesn't sob. She only cries. As Dawn lifts her head and sits up, she looks at her sister, obviously not used to seeing her cry like this. And pulls her into an embrace, whispering the almost same words that were said to her. "Shhh. I know. Shhh."

As I close the door, I know it's time to go. I write down the number from which I can be paged and give it to Xander to give to Buffy. I know she won't use it. At least not for a while. What was true remains true; we need to be apart right now. I don't know if we'll be together again, but at least I feel a little more resolved and fulfilled. This time I made the decision to go. I didn't let it rest on some little, insignifigant ultimatum. I know it's going to take her a long time to get through this. But she can, she's always been strong.

As I drive away from Sunnydale I turn my rental car radio up to full blast, to try to block out the memories that are creeping into the corners of my mind. As guitar chords meet my ears I realise that although I've never heard the song before, I know it quite well.

I knew by the time on the stove
That you were no longer mine alone
I guess we're all just out alone
And everybody is only their own.

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