Work Text:
Vacation
by Ragna
(writinggoddess@aol.com)
I'm starting to wonder if Darla left me another mess, or if this is one of my own making.
I love Connor, I suppose. I mean, he is my son. But on the other hand, he's a complete stranger to me. He grew up and I wasn't there, so to be truly honest I missed so much of his life that I barely know anything about him.
There's times I still hate Wesley for that, and there's other times I just struggle to accept what's happened. He was duped; in my mind I know that, but the fact he betrayed me hurts. Even if he didn't realize he was betraying me.
It's all such a mess...
And so now I'm lying here in a cement box on the bottom of the ocean floor. My son, who doesn't act like he's my son, put me here. I spend my time thinking, wondering what life could have been like if none of this had happened.
I've lost track of the days, the hours, the minutes I've been here. I guess this will be how it is forever, my lying awake and not knowing what's happening. When the oceans recede, if the sun isn't shining, maybe I'll be able to escape.
But who's going to be left?
Lorne, maybe, provided a mob doesn't come after him for being green with horns. Spike, if he doesn't get himself killed. Maybe Connor, if the longevity aspect of Darla and my's existence rubbed off on his genetics at all. Though after this I'm not entirely sure whether I should try and love him or just disown him entirely.
For now, it doesn't matter because I'm spending the summer at the bottom of the ocean. We'll all just have to wait and see, I guess. That's if we all live that long.
END