(no subject)

Beth's eye opens just a crack against the offending ray of sunlight filtering in through the stained glass window above her mattress and onto her face.

She didn't sleep well.

There's no big bed.

No big body pillow.

No Spike.

Fuck you.

Almost feeling too tired to move, she manages to flop over onto her other side and then lets that eye close again once her face is turned away from the sunlight.

But it's too late, and try as she might, sleep's not coming back to her.

The need to pee is, though, so she sits up and turns as if to stand and then realizes with a slump of her shoulders just how fucking hard it's going to be to get up from this mattress on the floor now.

Stretching her legs, she hooks the nearby stool with her foot and pulls it a little closer, then carefully uses it and the wall to help herself up.

As she shuffles through the church to the bathroom, she doesn't let herself think that maybe today the bathroom door will take her right back to the bar.

She doesn't let herself think that maybe today any of the doors will take her back to the bar.

She'll still try them all anyway.