dragonyphoenix

Summary: Rewrite of season 1 with Giles as the Big Bad.
Master List for In a Corner of My Soul (previous chapters / scenes)
Scene summary: Buffy's not the one to find her mother after Darla drained her

As Owen climbed the steps to the front door, he hoped it'd be Buffy, and not her mother, who answered. Parents didn't seem to like poets and, granted, he wasn't a poet himself but he seemed to be tarred with the same brush. It wasn't fair. They all just assumed he'd go all Byron on their girls, but Emily Dickinson had been a virgin her whole life and she was as much a poet as Byron. Maybe Buffy hadn't mentioned the poetry to her mother.

Owen knocked on the door. He stood and waited. The lights were on but nobody came to the door. When he pushed on it, to knock again, the door opened. “Buffy? Hello?” Still, no one answered. He stepped into the house, wondering if he shouldn't lock the door behind him. This wasn't a bad neighborhood but still, leaving it unlocked when nobody was around, that didn't seem like a great idea.

He heard a noise, something hitting the floor, from further into the house. As he stepped forward, Owen wished he had a weapon, a bat or something, but that was stupid. This was Sunnydale. Nothing ever happened here.

But when he stepped into the kitchen, something was happening. He saw a guy, a big guy, holding onto a woman. She was sort of draped over the guy's arms. Maybe she'd fainted?

“What's going on?” At Owen's words, the guy looked up and he growled, he actually growled, and there was something wrong with his face. “Hey, are you okay?”

The guy vanished so quickly, leaving the woman – Mrs. Summers? – on the floor, that Owen wondered if he'd imagined it. The blood, however, that wasn't imaginary. He squatted down and put his fingers to the marks on her neck. The blood was still wet. “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.”

Phone. He had to phone, uh, call, um, someone. 911. That was it. He had to call 911. “What is the nature of your emergency?”

Oh God. “There's a woman, she's on the floor. She isn't moving and there's blood, not a whole lot, just a little, but she isn't moving and I'm not sure she's breathing.”

“Could you give me the address.”

Address? Oh God, what was the address? He could go out front, check it, but then he'd have to put down the phone.

“Sir, the address?”

“Hold on.” He left the phone dangling. It was dark outside of the house, hard to see the numbers. He ran back to the kitchen. “1630. It's 1630.”

“Sir? I'll need the street name as well.”

Street name? Oh God, he should know that. He'd just walked past the sign. Think. “Uh, Ravel, um no, that's not it. Raveler? Uh, Revello. Yeah, that's it. 1630 Revello.”

As he waited for the paramedics, he felt dazed, almost lost. He'd found a blanket on the couch and had put it over the woman to keep her warm. He'd checked her breath. He kept checking her breath and then the paramedics were there and they took the woman away.

Owen didn't get in the ambulance. He wasn't family. He didn't know Mrs. Summers. He didn't even know if the woman was Mrs. Summers. “You should find her family,” the paramedic had said. “Send them to the hospital.”

He didn't know where Buffy was. She was supposed to be here. It didn't feel right, being in her house by himself, but she'd said she'd be here. He would wait.

It didn't feel right, waiting in her house. He didn't know where she was. Maybe if he left he would find her.

But he should stay, because she was coming to the house, and she'd want to know about the woman and the ambulance. She'd want to know as fast as possible, which is why he should go to find her. Or maybe why he should stay.