Broken Revenge

Epilogue 2


Watching Amanda crawl across the floor to the bleach blond man sitting on the floor making little clicking noises with his mouth, I have to think about names. At first, I thought this man's name was Spike, which is a frightening name, and when he first bought me, I followed with my knees shaking. Now I know the truth. The other demon called him William. William means "protector." I remember that from Before. Some things from Before are still fuzzy, but names I know. William fits him better than Spike, and so that's what I call him in my mind.

My daughter uses the coffee table to pull herself up, and then she launches herself toward him, her chubby arms thrown out, and with inhuman speed, he darts forward and catches her with a laugh that makes his blue eyes crinkle shut. Xander who is really Alexander, "protector of men," sits on the couch, leaning forward so that his chest rests on his thighs as he laughs. The two protectors. My two protectors. My daughter's two protectors.

Amanda responds to their laughter by pulling up her knees and then straightening them several times as she makes gurgling baby noises. If her legs were strong enough to hold her weight, she would be jumping up and down, but William is supporting her safely so that only her legs move in that rapid baby motion. I know that image from somewhere, but that's from Before, and I try not to think about Before too much.

Joyce's hand finds my hair, and I rest my cheek on her knee as we watch the boys play. Her name is easy. It means joy, which is a little funny because she's told me all these stories that make me think she hasn't had much joy in her life, but when she does my hair and tells me about Buffy, she tells me that sometimes we have to find joy in what we have and try to let go of the pain of the past. I can't remember what Buffy means. There are days when I feel guilty because I'm glad Buffy is gone because now I'm the one Joyce teaches to make bread while the sunset turns the kitchen orange and red.

Sometimes I think Joyce should be named Ophelia or Sophia. Those mean wisdom. But then again, something tickles the back of my mind, like maybe those women didn't have happy lives, like maybe I know them from Before. So she's Joyce, and sometimes when I curl up at her feet, I think maybe I can make her just a little bit happy.

"You boys are going to spoil her until her she's insufferable," Joyce says in an amused tone that does nothing to discourage either of them, and really I like to see my daughter so very, very spoiled although I would never say so.

"We're just making sure she knows she loved," Alexander says as he gets up from the couch and sweeps down, taking Amanda in his arms and swinging her up into the air until she squeals with joy.

"Aren't we, little one?" he asks as he holds her close, nose to nose. She brings her fat fists up to his cheeks. "Yep, she's just loved," Alexander announces as he brings her over and sets her in my lap. I offer him a small smile as I cradle Amanda in one arm and wiggle the fingers of my other hand until she grabs one in her tiny fingers and holds on tight.

"I think she's getting better," Joyce comments, and I know they mean me. I know they keep waiting for me to talk, but I'm happy now, and if something changes, maybe I won't be as happy. So I just keep focusing on my daughter as I sit between Joyce's legs on the floor.

"Might be. She knows she's safe, and if she wants ta come out, she can," William says as Alexander settles himself on the floor next to his lover so that Joyce is now the only one sitting on the furniture. I watch them curl around each other, limbs tangling on the floor as they both watch me play with my daughter.

"I sometimes wonder if she has a family looking for her," Joyce says as she strokes my hair. Even if I did talk, I wouldn't have an answer for that, but I know why she worries. She's remembering the months of not being able to find her own daughter.

"Could be. Can't rightly say. She might have been born on one of the farms," William points out as he holds Alexander in an affectionate embrace. I know that's not right because I don't think I would learn names on the farms, but I'm not going to say anything.

I'm happy with my daughter and my Joyce and my protectors. In the night, sometimes the dark things from the Before come after me, and I'll crawl in bed between my protectors, feeling Alexander's warm strength curl around me and William's cool power drape over me, and I know that my daughter and I will never go back to the dark place. I worried at first. I worried after I gave birth because they had Amanda. Her name means " precious one" or "beloved." I thought that when they had her, they would send me back to the dark place.

I remember William and Angel coming to buy me from one of the dark things, a thing whispered to me that I would be food. I almost hoped for that, I hoped for an end. But the men took off the chains and promised to protect me. I was confused, especially when William raged from one side of the van to the other, slamming fists into metal walls until Angel had to overpower him, wrap large arms around William's frame and hold him on the ground as he whispered promises. Now I know William was raging over Alexander whom he had lost. He is Alexander's protector, just like Alexander is his.

But I came home from hospital with Amanda, and Joyce still combed my hair and William still whispered poems to me, and Alexander still told me secrets and now Amanda sits in my lap while I make faces for her. She's my beloved too, but William and Alexander named her, and in a way she's theirs more than mine. Joyce won't let me hold her unless someone else is there because sometimes I forget where I am.

William and Alexander named me, too. Trista. It means sorrow. I think it's kinda funny because I'm not sorrowful any more. I know more happiness now than Before. Even though I don't remember much of the dark things or life Before dark things, I know that I'm happier now.

Amanda pulls on my finger until she can shove it in her mouth, her spit running down to my knuckle, and I know that there's something even more important here. Amanda is happy, and with her two protectors, she has a chance to hold on to that happiness. She has a chance to live without having the shadow of Before haunting her dreams. Knowing that makes me happy. Knowing that, I don't want to get better because I don't ever want things to change. Joyce is right, sometimes you have to let go of the past and just focus on the joy in the present. Sometimes I think I should rename myself Renata. It means reborn.