Disclaima': Evil J owns 'em. Not I.
Spoilers: Post-I In Team.
Side note: Kind of how Buffy feels after she and Riley do it. That was harsh, forgive me.

She she'd gone home, she was only half right. Home wasn't the dorms, home wasn't with her mother. No, the home she found herself compelled to go to was the Apartment. A place with a thousand memories, only one remaining the most important in her innocence-washed mind.

It didn't take long before she was standing in front of that door and letting nostalgia flow through her. She lifted her tainted hand and knocked, heart sinking at no answer. Then she was pulled back to reality. So she walked in, feeling unwelcomed in an instant as she set foot all the way inside and the door swung shut loudly behind her.

She could almost hear their conversation before everything fell apart.

"She killed you, right in front of me..."

She bit back tears and meandered to the bedroom, moving so slow it seemed like hours before she reached the destination.

"You almost went away today..."

And then she broke down, cradling her stomach as she fell on to the bed wracked with hidden tears and broken promises. The sheets and everything were still there, like He was here keeping everything orderly. But he wasn't, and she knew that. She could feel that, or had she lost herself so much that she'd really learned to forget it all? How to touch, how to feel...everything he taught her that meant the most in life, things that were dear?

No, all that was there was the cold silence never broke by her sobs of pain. She sat up, drying her swollen eyes and began beating the fresh white pillows senseless at ever letting her rest upon them. She didn't deserve this, nothing. Maybe she did get what she deserved, someone that talked down to her and kept her head leveled. Yes, she didn't deserve that kind of real, purific true love that He had always showered her with.

"Meaningless, I'm all meaningless," she cried dizzily to the pillow. "I deserve nothing! You hear me? Nothing!" With another heavy plow to the pillow, she felt all bodily functions leave her and she collapsed into a dream-filled sleep in His bed. . . . .

"I miss you," she cooed gently to the figure watching her from afar. From his look, she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I know," he would say. He knew her so well. What he would say to her now? He'd certainly be flabbergasted, maybe ashamed.Or astounded, presumptious, everything and anything. She felt her legs weighted into place as she gave the thought to run into his arms and let everything go.

Then grimly he shook his head at her, turned his back to her and ambled out of view.

"No!" she cried desperately at him. "I'm lost without you!" She called after him continually, hoping beyond hope he would be there again. He never came. He never would. Not for the creature she'd become.

"No!" Buffy jolted awake, startled to find herself in the Apartment. Then it all came back to her, everything she dreaded. Her subconscious gnawing at every drop of her being. She put forth what energy she had left to stand and force herself from this place.

That Buffy was gone and the door slammed behind her as she walked away.

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