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Lying Still

Title: Lying Still
Words: 800
Rating: PG-13 for language
Setting: BTVS S3/S4
Character: Faith

Month 1
Nurse Elaine noticed that the girl in room 172 never received visitors. Not friend nor family. The room contained nothing but the shell of a girl and the monotone blips marking each beat of an abandoned heart echoing off the walls.

She wondered, if that girl ever woke up, would she have someone to wake up for- someone to see when she opened her eyes. Or would she wake up to a cold, sterile hell?

The next day, Elaine brought some fresh flowers, a focal point beyond the withering girl in the bed.

Faith dreamt of the Mayor.

Month 2
The news played silently in the waiting rooms, captions on the screen displaying those with the presence of mind to care. New DNA evidence was found linking a new suspect to the murder of Lester Worth. The nurses saw the face of the killer on screen- the girl in room 172.

The cops came by again, with their little note pads asking questions about their suspect, the girl who would never wake up. The words didn’t deter them. They came back, time and time again as the media clamored over the turn.

Faith dreamt about the deputy mayor.

Month 3
No one went in room 172 anymore, not unless they had to. The task of checking on the status of the girl who would never wake up became a task bet at card games in the lunch room.

Sure, it had to be done, it was their job to do it. They were paid to do it. They were paid to make sure a killer lived. Wasn’t working in a hospital supposed to be about helping people? Not saving murderous bitches who took them?

The rotting flowers sat in the vase by her bed.

Faith dreamed about Wesley.

Month 4
A lot of things drew attention in hospitals, but none so much as the young blonde woman standing outside room 172. The door was open, but she showed no inclination to move from the spot. The nurses murmured softly as they watched.

They merely saw her from the back, they couldn’t see her eyes. Eyes dead emotionless, yet brimming with tears that refused to fall. They were the eyes of a woman confronting possibilities, choices. Infinite in the future and finite in the past.  The eyes of someone looking in a dark mirror.

Faith dreamt about her mother.

Month 5
The nurse was new, foreign. With traces of a British accent that she tried to hide. But well trained, she knew exactly what she was supposed to do. Probably better than the rest of them.

New meat, the other nurses thought. Shoved the task of checking on the girl who would never wake up on her. She didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to take great care in monitoring her status.

Words buzzed like bees, she heard them all, and saw the strange looks as she left the room. She merely smiled.

Faith dreamt about slaying.

Month 6
It had to have been the power surge that caused it. The machines in room 172 must have gotten messed up somehow. The readings could not possibly be right. All signs were indicating that the girl who would never wake up was recovering, and recovering at a rapid rate. Too rapid for any human being.

The machines must be fixed… no… not fixed. Replaced. Something was seriously wrong, and they did not have the time to deal with that right now. Just a little switch and there would be nothing to worry about.

Faith dreamed about past boytoys.

Month 7
“Why do you watch her so closely?”

“Because… I’m sure one day, we’ll all be in for… quite a surprise with this one. I need to be here when that happens.”

“I wouldn’t want to be here when that monster wakes up. But she won’t. It’s impossible. I can’t believe we’re still keeping her on life support, but that’s what the cops want.”

“Wrong do-ers can be rehabilitated… or at least controlled.”

“I don’t know about that. Stuff like that’s ingrained at birth.”

“You really have no faith, do you?” The new nurse smiled.

Faith dreamt of Buffy.

Month 8
There weren’t dreams anymore. The peaceful recesses of the back of her mind were slipping away. The place where she lived in the past, the old Faith who fucked and ran, who knew who she was, who had control.

Now there were only nightmares, the darkness that was now. Her mind was assaulted with images of blood, of murder, of betrayal, of loss. She lost herself in that darkness, it bubbled up inside her and her mind screamed and writhed lost in the helpless shell in the hospital bed. This could not be happening.

And Faith woke up.

Comments

( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
shinodabear
Sep. 9th, 2007 02:31 pm (UTC)
I absolutely LOVE the style. Pulls you right in.
rayruz
Sep. 9th, 2007 02:45 pm (UTC)
=D Thanks. I'm pretty darn proud of it myself
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )