UnExpected

Chapter 1

Everything had fallen apart.

Her friends were hurt.

Her mother had kicked her out.

And she had murdered the man she loved.

There was nothing left now. Nowhere to turn that wouldn't cause a stabbing pain to flow through her heart. She hadn't felt like this since...well, it's been a while.

Everything was quiet, deceptively normal as she walked down the familiar, residential street. She tried not to the let excruciating reminder of why the world kept on turning with its blue skies and golden sun break her down. There would be time for that later. Right now, all she wanted to do was get away. To leave this place and never come back.

Slowly, she came to a halt, eyeing the house she had called home for the past two years as it loomed over her. Wondering if after this moment she would ever see it again. Ever walk through the front door and be welcomed by her mother with open arms. The thoughts caused tears to stray down her cheeks, and sniffling, she wiped them away. She didn't have time for that now. She needed to get in and out before there was any chance she would change her mind.

Effortlessly, Buffy climbed up the familiar tree, the one she had climbed up and down so many times to save the world, the one he had climbed so many nights to see her. Pushing memories aside, she hopped off the last branch and onto the sloped roof, grateful she had left her bedroom window open – not a very smart move in a town like this, but the last few days hadn't exactly given her time to think straight.

Slowly, she slipped through the windowsill and into a bedroom she once considered her safe haven. A bedroom that wasn't as empty as she thought it would be.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, with a cup of cold tea in her hands, her mother watched her. She looked tired, exhausted...sad. She looked like she hadn't slept all night. And still wearing the clothes from hours before. The hours when Joyce found out the truth about her daughter. The hours when she let fear take over and kicked her own daughter out of the house. The hours Joyce spent in agonizing worry if Buffy was alive, if she would come back...

Buffy couldn't move, couldn't breathe, waiting nervously for her mother to speak.

They tried, boy did they try, but it just wasn't in the cards. Joyce Summers worked hard at it, but it seemed the fates had other ideas. It had been a rough adjustment at first, but eventually they adjusted. Now everything had changed with Buffy's confession and she knew what they had to do.

"I think it's time we go back," she said.

And with those simple, concise words it felt as if the world had fallen off her shoulders and Buffy breathed deeply in relief. It was the answer she needed. The one she had been hoping for, for years. It was the balm that would ease her wounds, the rips in her spirit.

"W-when?" she stuttered, praying it would be soon.

"Tomorrow."

Tears of relief, of joy, of exhaustion and sorrow immediately welled themselves up in her eyes and Joyce felt them in her heart. Rushing to her daughter, she wrapped the broken girl tightly in her arms as she cried.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered between sobs.

"I know, baby. I know."

Stroking her head lovingly, Joyce comforted her daughter and hoped that with going back all the damage could be repaired.

*****

Closing the suitcase with a final snap, Buffy looked around her nearly empty room. They were all packed and ready to go. Ready to leave this Hellmouth and all the pain it had brought.

There was no time for words – for goodbyes. And she wasn't sure if she would've been brave enough to voice them given a chance.

So, Buffy wrote them down. She wrote letters to Giles, Willow, and Xander, explaining her leaving – at least as much as she was allowed to. After everything they've been through, after everything they had done for her, it was the least she could do. She left her written words in their mailboxes in the early morning hours. Too early for them to be awake. They would be hurt and angry, but hopefully they would understand. This town, this life, was tearing her apart. It was becoming more than she could take. She didn't want to be the Slayer; she wanted to be Buffy again. She wanted to go home.

However, she did worry for their safety; it was Sunnydale after all. Demons and darkness galore. But they were smart, resourceful, and had patrolled with her so many times that they might be able to have their own routine – if they chose to. In any case, they would be getting a new slayer soon. After all Kendra was...dead – and that meant a new slayer would be called. Hopefully someone that loved to be the Chosen One, who lived for the fight, because Buffy felt as if all of hers had gone, drained from every ounce of her soul.

"Ready?"

Turning around, Buffy saw her mother waiting by the doorway.

"Yeah," she answered, and let her eyes wander around the room one last time.

Joyce walked over and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"Don't worry, honey, it's all gonna be ok," she said, and gave her daughter a loving kiss on the top of her head. "We should get going."

Nodding, Buffy picked up her trunk and headed downstairs. Looking around the now empty house, she finally admitted how it never really felt like home. It was just a place to sleep and eat. Something to shield them from the rain. A false sense of security from the nightmares that roamed the streets of the town.

As they stopped by the fireplace, Joyce picked up a small, red bag from the mantel. "Still remember?"

"It's only been two years, mom."

"Well, I just wanted to make sure. Don't want you ending up in some dark alley," she said, opening the bag and holding it out. "Teenage-ladies first."

Buffy reached in and grabbed a handful of powder. After performing the appropriate rituals, she stepped into the illuminated gateway, trunk in hand, and smiled reassuringly at her mother.

"Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," she instructed, and with a blink, amongst the dancing green flames, Buffy was gone.