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F E A T U R E D F I C O F T H E M O M E N T
INDEX
BRE'S ARCHIVE
AUTHOR'S ARCHIVE
INTERACTIVE
AUTHOR
SITE
 F A L L I N G T O P I E C E S B Y B R E
Email: Feedback Winner Best Quote/Description at the When The Sun Sets Awards, Round 5
Buffy O’Roarke fitted the key into the top lock, twisting her wrist and causing the sound of a loud deadbolt being unlocked to echo in the hallway. Proceeding to do the same with her doorknob, she pushed the door open, unopened mail clenched between her teeth in her mouth as she quietly shut the door behind her. Her arm shot out to the light switch next to the front door, immediately bathing the long hallway in brilliant light as she dropped her bag to the floor and took the mail from her mouth. Licking her smiling lips and sifting through the mail as she walked, she dodged the small toys littered throughout the front room as she walked through to the kitchen. With the same small, content smile gracing her lips, she set the mail on the large island in her kitchen before moving towards the stove and removing a pot and two pans. Setting them on the counter, she grabbed two wooden spoons from the drawer as she grabbed her cell phone, which she had accidentally left on the counter charging while she had been at work. Tossing the spoons onto the island, she flipped her phone opened and saw she had missed three calls and had three messages awaiting her attention. Smiling when she saw who they were, she pressed a series of buttons and brought the small device to her ear to hear their voices. "Hey, B, it’s Faith! Whenever you get this, call me ‘cause I’m itchin’ for more swimmin’, girl! Maybe when that stud muffin of an ex-husband has the kids or something. By the way, what’s up with you two lately? I know something’s going on..." Buffy grinned at the sing song voice of her stepsister as she opened the refrigerator. "I knew you two weren’t even close to being over! ... Anyway, just give me a call!" Buffy felt her heart blossom as the deep voice of her ex-husband echoed in her ear in the next message. "Hey, Buffy, we’re on our way back. We’ll be there soon... Katie!... Girls, be careful!..." Buffy heard small giggles in the background and chuckled to herself, the smile that had continually grown wider never leaving her face. "We’ll see you soon. And give me a call on my cell if we’re not there before you." Switching the phone to her other ear as she grabbed a bag of celery from the vegetable drawer, Buffy rolled her eyes in good nature when she heard her father’s voice next. "Hello, Buffy, it’s Dad. I was just wondering when I would be able to see my beautiful granddaughters again. Let me know so I can take them out to breakfast. Love you." As the phone told her she had no more messages, Buffy snapped it shut and set it back down on the counter. Quickly removing her jacket and tossing it onto one of the high-backed chairs that consisted of her dining room table set, she rolled her sleeves up and turned on some hot water, the small smile on her lips never leaving. Cleaning her hands as she began humming a soft tune, she dried them off and moved back to the celery. Digging her fingernails into the vegetable, she heard the satisfying crunch as she tore one of the stalks. Turning back to the utensil drawer, she grabbed the large kitchen knife and was about to cut into the hard greenness when the main household phone began ringing. Looking back over her shoulder towards the cordless phone, she grabbed the towel and dried her hands as she grabbed it, answering on the third ring. "Hello?"
Buffy almost tripped over the large carpet rug in between the sliding doors of the emergency room as she ran into the desolate place, immediately heading for the nurse’s station. "Where are my daughters?... Are they okay?" Buffy’s voice was frantic and the nurse sitting in the rolling chair before slim computer looked up, almost appearing bored. "I’m sorry?" "My daughters," Buffy said loudly. "Where are they?" "If you could hold on one moment-" "Dammit, I just want to know where my fucking daughters are!" Buffy yelled, slapping her hands down against the chilled counter top. The nurse looked startled for a moment, leaning back in her chair before regaining her composure. "Miss, please calm down... what’s their names?" "Katie and-and Amanda O’Roarke... are they okay?" Buffy asked, her voice tinged with hysteria as she attempted to lean over the counter. "Buffy!" The blonde turned when she heard her name called and sighed in relief as her stepsister came through the sliding doors. Falling into her arms, they held each other for a moment before Faith pulled away, running a hand down her stepsister’s face. "What’s going on? Are they all okay?" "I don’t know," Buffy muttered, unconsciously attempting to cover her fear with annoyance as she spoke. "I just got here, but I haven’t heard anything, and oh god... if something happened..." "Shh," Faith said softly, hugging the blonde again. "It’s okay. I’m sure they’re fine. Everything will be okay..." Buffy prayed she was right. "I’m sorry, miss," the nurse said, and Buffy turned around to face her. "Your daughters are in surgery right now. As is the man that was with them." Fear gripped her heart once again and Buffy felt more tears well in her eyes. Angel... "Angel O’Roarke?" "Yes, ma’am." "Oh, God, Faith," Buffy moaned, turning to her stepsister before collapsing into her arms. The nurse looked indifferent as she grabbed a clipboard and a pen. "While you are waiting, if you could please fill out these papers..." Buffy barely heard the words but they seemed to register completely as she slowly pulled herself away from Faith and turned to look at the woman behind the counter. She couldn’t believe how... callous she was acting. "Excuse me? You want me to fill out some... papers," she said, practically spitting out the words, "while my children could be dying in there?" "Miss, please-" "No, fuck you. I’m not going to fill out some useless pieces of paper that mean absolutely nothing while my babies are in surgery, you-" "I’ll do it," Faith said, cutting in and stepping up from behind Buffy to grab the clipboard. The nurse merely shrugged before turning back to her computer. Buffy opened her mouth to continue but Faith grabbed her arm gently and pulled her towards the chairs. "It’s going to be okay, B. Just chill for a while." As Faith pushed her into a chair, Buffy pulled her arm back from her stepsister before crossing them and biting her lip as a lone tear slid down her cheek. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs if she didn’t know what was happening inside that room. She was their mother, for fuck’s sake and she wasn’t even allowed to see how they were doing... A long ten minutes passed of Faith attempting to glean facts from the blonde that she didn’t know about the little girls but Buffy merely glared at her, not opening her mouth. Faith had only managed to fill out the sheets for Katie when a long shadow fell over her papers. Looking up, she saw an older man staring down at Buffy. Chancing a quick glance at her stepsister, Faith stood as Buffy slowly approached the man, her arms crossed over her chest as she awaited what she was so sure was bad news. "Mrs. O’Roarke?" he asked softly, his tone calm and almost monotone. Buffy shivered at the sound as she dug her nails into her skin. Clenching her jaw, she nodded. He looked down at the hands he had folded before him, almost seeming to take a moment. Buffy wanted to step up and rattle him so all his teeth fell out... if that’s what it would take for him to just tell her what was happening. He finally sighed and looked up once more. "Your daughters’ father is still in surgery. He seemed to take the... brunt of the attack and-" Buffy held up her hand and he paused. She took a deep breath as she allowed that news to settle in but she couldn’t help the urgency to know about her daughters. If they were still breathing. "Please," she said softly. "Are... how are my daughters? Can I see them?" Her voice choked with tears as she fought to keep them from falling down her cheeks. "Are... are they... awake?" "I’m... I’m terribly sorry to be the one to deliver the bad news, Mrs. O’Roarke, but..." "But what?" Buffy asked desperately, her voice tinged with hysteria as it grew louder. "They have a broken leg? Arm?" The doctor furrowed his brow as he looked down at her and opened his mouth, almost as if he were speaking to a child, explaining something he knew she wouldn’t understand. "Mrs. O’Roarke, I’m afraid your daughters... they passed away. They didn’t survive the crash." It felt like her entire chest was caving in and Buffy blinked wildly as tears welled up in her eyes. Her vision became blurry as she glanced at Faith, not even seeing her, before looking back. "What?... What?" "They both died of severe brain damage and blood loss. I’m sorry..." His voice seemed to fall into the background and she could no longer understand what he was saying as he continued to explain what had happened. It didn’t matter. All she had needed to hear was ‘died’. Breathing in didn’t seem to help her lack of air and she felt like she was dying right there. She could feel a rush of hotness course down her cheek as she opened her mouth to say something... but she didn’t know what came out. It was... like an out-of-body experience and she was suddenly hanging over the scene, watching sadly as her now empty body roughly pushed Faith away before dropping to the floor and crying. Her hands covered her face and Buffy felt the tears... felt her teeth against the palms of her hands as she wept... felt her nails dig into the skin of her face as she cried at the knowledge that her children were dead. No longer breathing. No longer... able to tie their shoes or drink orange juice and eat the dinner she had been preparing before the dreaded call. She would be burying her children six feet beneath the cold, dead earth. Buffy felt like her heart had just shriveled up and died along with them.
It had taken almost an hour for Faith to finally pick Buffy up from the floor and help her sit in a seat. And now all she did was stare at the wall. The large divider of rooms that sat there every single day and saw every possible thing a hospital of death could order. It saw friends die, it saw parents die... it saw children die. Buffy felt like punching it until her knuckles bled and were completely raw. The blonde didn’t react as someone gently touched her shoulder. She didn’t even feel it until they grabbed her and shook her. She jerked and spun to see who it was. It was the same nurse who had been so short with her just a short hour ago. Buffy felt like she should have been angry or something but there really wasn’t anything left in her. She had nothing left to give to the world except her pain. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted to give that away. The nurse smiled down at her patiently. She held a large red bag that was slightly bulging around, making it look a lot like Santa’s little bag of presents. Buffy wanted to be sick. Her babies would never again know Santa. They had died knowing that it was he who had given them their bikes last year. They had died believing in the Easter bunny. They had died believing in a lot of things. "Some of your daughters’ belongings," the woman said gently, setting the large bag beside the distraught mother. She didn’t say another word and turned around. Buffy merely stared at it before turning to look at Faith who was staring at her. Buffy could see the red blotches around her eyes and she looked like she had been crying for hours on end. Buffy wondered for a moment if she looked the same. They were interrupted as the doors from the emergency area swung open once again. Faith was the first to look and all it took was the slight recognition - the uncontrollable hate towards the person who had been given the burden of giving such horrible news - to know who it was. She looked up slowly. "Mr. O’Roarke is awake now. If you would like to see him, please follow me." Buffy merely blinked before nodding. She stood, ready to follow before turning and grabbing the red sack and pulling it up to her chest, almost cradling it as she followed the doctor to where her ex-husband lay. They stopped in front of a large wooden door and the doctor merely opened it for her. She didn’t look at him as she stepped inside slowly, turning to watch as he closed the door behind her. They were alone. Buffy turned to look at the floor, afraid to look and see what had happened to the man she still loved. A small sound of pain was all it took for her eyes to dart to where he lay and she felt her tears returning in a huge rush. He was... broken. Covered in white gauze and bruises and cuts... he looked... like she felt. She didn’t say a word as his dark eyes turned to look at her. Buffy felt her heart shattering into even smaller pieces at the horrible look in his eyes. She saw pain, guilt, horror... A sob fell from her lips at the thought that she knew only their children would have been able to cheer him up so completely. He looked away, staring at the shuttered window that hid the darkening night. "I’m so sorry," he said softly, so softly Buffy barely caught it. But she did and she dropped the sack as her arms went limp. She didn’t notice that none of the contents spilled from the bag as she stumbled towards his bed, her eyes wet. Buffy felt like her entire body was ready to give any second as he turned, painfully slow, away from her. She felt her throat almost tear with her next sound of her cries as she climbed onto the bed behind, mindful of his injuries and not paying heed to his silent command to leave him alone. She needed him. He couldn’t turn her away. She gently wrapped her arm around his waist and he lifted his hand to cradle it against his damaged body. "Buffy-" "Why?" she asked, her breath heavy against the back of his neck. "Why, Angel, why our babies?" His shoulders shook with his own tears as he said, "I’m sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry..."
The washer was open and ready to be filled as Buffy slowly opened the sack of her dead babies’ last belongings. A cigarette shook in her trembling fingers as she slowly pulled the bag open. Her face was completely blank as she stared down at the bloody clothing. Some of it was torn. Some wasn’t even close to being dirty. But she barely comprehended that as she reached in and grabbed one of the t-shirts. The purple one. Katie’s. There was a splash of dark red at the collar and Buffy fingered one of the sleeves gently as she held it before her eyes. It was still soft, just like it was when she had pulled it out of the dryer just the other day. Buffy swallowed as she placed it into the opened washer before turning back. She grabbed a pair of light blue jeans. There was blood almost all over the front of them. Barely taking a moment to look them over, she tossed them into the washer. She paused as she stared at a little red sneaker sitting, ready to be taken in next. She felt her heart constrict as her hands began to tremble a little bit more. It was Amanda’s. Her beautiful little five-year-old. There was a small black spot on the tip but the rest was almost just as dirty. Probably from her playing in the leaves that the trees always rained down in the fall. Running a finger of the black spot, she almost smiled as her fingers swiped across the bright blue shoelaces. They didn’t match. At all. Buffy had promised to buy her red shoelaces so they would match, but she never had. She had been promising it for months and now... she never could. Her daughter would never have red shoelaces to go with her red sneakers. Buffy’s throat was dry and her eyes ached horribly but it didn’t stop her from clutching the shoe to her chest and sobbing once more.
Three Months Later She hadn’t seen him since the funeral. Since their daughters had been lowered into the ground and buried together. Since they had received more cards expressing condolences than she had ever seen and more than enough flowers to fill her entire living room. None of it had helped. Either of them. This was the first time she would see him. She wasn’t even nervous. She didn’t know what to feel. She was empty, as she had taken to being since the worst night of her life at the hospital. She knocked gently and waited patiently, staring at the little hole that allowed the occupant of the apartment to see who it was. A moment later, he opened the door, looking down at her solemnly. She tried to smile. He merely turned, leaving the door open in a silent invitation. She watched as he disappeared, the darkness swallowing him up as he headed for his bedroom. Buffy stepped in, slowly closing the door behind her. She followed him. She found him laying on his bed, his feet hanging off one end as he curled around a pillow, his eyes riveted on the large screen television that sat before the bed. He was watching some woman selling jewelry and as Buffy turned to look at him, she knew he wasn’t really watching. He was looking, but his mind was elsewhere. "Angel," she said softly and she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. She clenched her hands before her. "How are you?" Eternity could have rolled by and Buffy wouldn’t have noticed as she waited for his answer. He finally sat up, turning to sit on the edge of the bed as he turned on the bedside table lamp and looked at her. Buffy didn’t react to his appearance because he looked exactly how she did when she looked in the mirror every morning. He was haggard. He had dark circles under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t slept decently in months. Which she imagined he hadn’t. "Fine. You?" Buffy bit the inside of her lip as she walked over to sit next to him. He barely reacted. She sighed. "Okay." An awkward silence filled the air as neither spoke. What was there left to say? Nothing. There really was nothing. More than a couple of months ago, they would have had thousands of things to say to each other. But now... it felt like they had nothing in common anymore. Buffy finally looked over at him. From far away, he didn’t look much different. Tired, yes, but physically he was the same old Angel despite the massive weight loss. But close up... Buffy gasped. A long, ragged scar jutted up from underneath the collar of his worn t-shirt and she reached out to touch it but he jerked away from her, whether because of her unfamiliar touch or because he didn’t really wanting her touching him, she didn’t know. She allowed her hand to hover in mid-air before dropping it to her lap. "Angel-" "They’re my reminders," he said softly, reaching a hand underneath his shirt to touch his chest and stomach, running his fingers over the rough skin that now decorated his body. Buffy felt her throat tighten. Moving slowly, she reached for the bottom of his shirt. His own hand stilled as she slowly gripped it, pausing before tugging it upwards. He was passive as he allowed her to work the shirt off before she dropped it to the floor. A wet gasp fell from her lips and she unconsciously reached to smooth of his skin. They were everywhere. Scars... big and small. You could look nowhere and still see them. Buffy felt her own skin tingling as she continued to explore his ravaged body through touch, a tear slipping down her cheek. Buffy didn’t see his own throat working to keep his tears at bay as he said, "I don’t understand." It was a whisper and Buffy slowly looked up to meet his eyes. "I don’t understand why it wasn’t me. Why... why they had to die when I lived. God, it’s... it eats me alive everyday I sit here... and I still don’t understand why they are gone... and I’m still here." More tears feel from her eyes as he said, "I’m sorry. I’m sorry it wasn’t me and I’m so sorry that they aren’t here instead. God..." Buffy felt the back of her throat burning as she touched his cheek gently before leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. They sat there for a moment before desperation took them. Despite their pain for their loss, their only comfort was each other and after denying themselves that, they couldn’t help the intense rush of emotion that overcame them as they opened their mouths and kissed out of sheer despair. The thought that they needed to breathe simply wasn’t there and Angel pulled Buffy to him before rolling her over onto the bed and resting against her. Cradling her face between his hands, he attacked her mouth, almost trying to pour his pain into her - or possibly pull her pain into him. Neither of them understood what was happening inside but they didn’t care. If a few hours together could relieve the pain and the horrible emptiness that ached... Buffy gasped as Angel pulled away. He closed his eyes and Buffy felt something inside her break as one of his tears slid down and splashed against her cheek. She swallowed as he opened his wet eyes to look down at her. Buffy felt the emptiness come crashing back as he said, "I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t do this." Buffy watched in shocked pain as he pulled away from her roughly and practically stumbled into the bathroom that sat across from his bed. He slammed the door shut and she closed her eyes as a large thud echoed in the room. A small sob broke free from her lips as she heard him slide to the floor, his own cries filtering from underneath the door. Turning, she curled around his pillow as his sobs echoed her own. Fin l be kind, rewind l back to top l
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