The Wheels on the Bus
Summary: Written immediately after ChosenÖ Andrew is lost in thought on the bus.
I am seriously pissed off. I should not be sitting here, on this bus, with these people. She should be here. He should be here. Not me.
We keep hitting bumps in the road and after the third one I finally realize I probably shouldnít be leaning my head against the window or else Iíll wind up with a huge bump. I sigh and glance around. The silence is making me itch practically. The elation we all shared 30 minutes ago has disappeared into thin air like Obi Wan Kinobi at the end of Episode 4. Xander is sitting by himself across the aisle, his head in his hands. I think the news I had to tell him is just now really sinking in. I know he is crying by how his shoulders are shaking a little (nice, broad shoulders, by the way). Once in a while I hear him whisper her name. "Anya," he whispers. "Anya." It is giving me horrible goosebumps and Iím trying hard not to cry every time he says it.
He doesnít want anyone to talk to him. I told the others about her, too. They went to hug him and he backed off, his eyes going wide with shock. Me, Iím just trying to keep out of everyoneís way. I keep expecting hate glares shot at me, or at least a cutting "Why didnít you die instead of her?" from Kennedy at least, who always speaks her mind. But nothing, nada.
I wish I knew what people were thinking. I wish I could have defended her better. I wish, really wish, it could have been me. I wish we could wheelchair fight one last time.
Buffy still hasnít said anything. She is sitting in the back, by herself. I turn and glance back at her. She still has this strange smile on her face. Sheís a regular blonde Mona Lisa sitting back there, kind of staring off into space. She keeps rubbing her hand, as if it were injured, although it looks perfectly fine (not that Iím a doctor or anything). I donít know if she is thinking about him, but Iím guessing she is. Her expression changed only once, back when we all first got back on the bus and Giles said, stunned, "He saved us all, then." She cried then, but she still had that small, knowing smile on her face, as if she knew a secret she could not share with us. Not that itís any of my business, anyway.
Maybe, with any luck, theyíll haunt us. Not in the bad Warren-taunting-me-to-kill-Jonathan way. More like, visits. I hope I get to see them again.
Dawn plops down next to me. "You okay?"
I nod. "Yes, and thank you for asking, youíre such a sweetheart. How are you?"
"Iím in shock still. And kind of hungry."
I nod. We sit in companionable silence as we continue to drive away.
Copyright Tania 2003-2004
Violators will be forced to ride in the trunk.
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