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abetterlieMere stopped calling her that when she was three, because I didn't anymore, and she wanted equal sibling rights. Which was totally a Mere thing to do, even at age three. Mom looked sort of wistful. That day, Dad guilt tripped me into calling her "Mommy" again so Mere would have to a while longer, but Mom was on to him and said to stop that nonsense and that she was very proud her children were growing so fast.
So, either none of that happened, or those are someone else's memories they implanted in me; I don't try to think about that too hard, because that means that someone must have died, too. Either way it didn't happen to me. I never called her Mommy, and I wasn't there when her daughter Mere stopped doing that, either. But you know, it doesn't matter. Because here's another memory, just a few years back. After I had killed Sahjahn and gotten my memories back, we left Los Angeles again. I had still some vacation before the next term started, and I was going to spend it at home. Except the moment I entered our home, the moment I saw some family photo, all of us on a beach, me at age 5, it hit me, the reality of it. I was at Quortoth at age 5, learning to kill. And just the past night, I had killed again, some demon who told me I made a good case for free will versus predestination. And I had seen - that's how far I got when I had to throw up.
Now, Mom and Dad had zero idea about the killing Sahjahn thing, let alone anything else. I had told them I had done tests all the night at Wolfram and Hart's, because of the newly discovered superstrength, and that I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I didn't even hesitate before lying to them the moment I saw them again, which I guess says something about me. And while I didn't have any idea yet what I was going to do with two different lives in my head, I knew they couldn't find out. (Make that: I didn't want them to find out. I didn't want them to look at me and see a psycho killer instead of their son.) So here I was, throwing up for no reason as far as they knew, and I had been hyper and cheerful just the moment before. Dad had just spent the night patched up by doctors and dosed with tranquilizers. Mom had spent it at his side, so probably sleepless. Plus no matter what I said to them, of course they were still worried; they were parents. They had been worried since I got run over by a van and had recovered. And did I mention they had nearly been killed by some thugs of Cyvus Vail's early on in the night? Demons?
Mom, Colleen Riley, wasn't a demon fighter. She wasn't a champion. She wasn't anyone's destiny girl or prophecy child, and no special messenger ever came for her. But she didn't have a nervous breakdown. She didn't slap me or shake me; she didn't ask what the hell was going on. She just went to the kitchen, got a wet towel, cleaned my face, and sat with me on the steps in front of our house, silent, her arm around my shoulder.
That was when I knew it didn't matter whether one set of my memories was mostly fabricated. Whether I had ever seen her before the day of my high school graduation - which hadn't happened, either - or not. She was Mom, and I loved her.
I still do.
So, either none of that happened, or those are someone else's memories they implanted in me; I don't try to think about that too hard, because that means that someone must have died, too. Either way it didn't happen to me. I never called her Mommy, and I wasn't there when her daughter Mere stopped doing that, either. But you know, it doesn't matter. Because here's another memory, just a few years back. After I had killed Sahjahn and gotten my memories back, we left Los Angeles again. I had still some vacation before the next term started, and I was going to spend it at home. Except the moment I entered our home, the moment I saw some family photo, all of us on a beach, me at age 5, it hit me, the reality of it. I was at Quortoth at age 5, learning to kill. And just the past night, I had killed again, some demon who told me I made a good case for free will versus predestination. And I had seen - that's how far I got when I had to throw up.
Now, Mom and Dad had zero idea about the killing Sahjahn thing, let alone anything else. I had told them I had done tests all the night at Wolfram and Hart's, because of the newly discovered superstrength, and that I thought it was the coolest thing ever. I didn't even hesitate before lying to them the moment I saw them again, which I guess says something about me. And while I didn't have any idea yet what I was going to do with two different lives in my head, I knew they couldn't find out. (Make that: I didn't want them to find out. I didn't want them to look at me and see a psycho killer instead of their son.) So here I was, throwing up for no reason as far as they knew, and I had been hyper and cheerful just the moment before. Dad had just spent the night patched up by doctors and dosed with tranquilizers. Mom had spent it at his side, so probably sleepless. Plus no matter what I said to them, of course they were still worried; they were parents. They had been worried since I got run over by a van and had recovered. And did I mention they had nearly been killed by some thugs of Cyvus Vail's early on in the night? Demons?
Mom, Colleen Riley, wasn't a demon fighter. She wasn't a champion. She wasn't anyone's destiny girl or prophecy child, and no special messenger ever came for her. But she didn't have a nervous breakdown. She didn't slap me or shake me; she didn't ask what the hell was going on. She just went to the kitchen, got a wet towel, cleaned my face, and sat with me on the steps in front of our house, silent, her arm around my shoulder.
That was when I knew it didn't matter whether one set of my memories was mostly fabricated. Whether I had ever seen her before the day of my high school graduation - which hadn't happened, either - or not. She was Mom, and I loved her.
I still do.
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Date: 2007-05-14 09:24 am (UTC)Sad.
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Date: 2007-05-14 10:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:11 am (UTC)You never made the post you were supposed to. >:-O
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Date: 2007-05-14 10:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:29 am (UTC)... Wow. You're as harsh as Buffy.
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Date: 2007-05-14 10:31 am (UTC)Women are so from another planet.And what did Buffy say? Last time I checked she offered to kick my ass for staking you at Harry's party.no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:43 am (UTC)She said I hadn't done anything to make her smile recently. No one likes me at all recently! It's really disturbing. No wonder I'm a Nigel of the no friends.
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Date: 2007-05-14 10:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 10:48 am (UTC)Nigel. He has no friends.
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Date: 2007-05-14 10:56 am (UTC)Sorry, I guess it's just not my day. I don't get it.
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:07 am (UTC)I HAVE NO FRIENDS BECAUSE I'M PAINFULLY DEPRESSING.
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:16 am (UTC)...also, maybe I finally found a job for you which both pays and you don't hate. Would you be okay with posing for a painter? Not in the nude! It's totally respectable! And he doesn't have any pets, either. Especially not dogs. I asked!
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Date: 2007-05-14 11:26 am (UTC)I made a commitment to the dog lady, I can't just walk out on her NOW. She RELIES on me.
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Date: 2007-05-16 04:09 am (UTC)I remember being puzzled at why Angel was so eager to take you on as a protege, after initially wanting to turn down the case.
You did very well by yourself that day; I remember that much.
I'm not sure I can say the same for myself.
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Date: 2007-05-16 06:03 pm (UTC)*locked*
Sometimes - sometimes I wish you hadn't broken that thing that gave us our memories back. But I get why you did it, and anyway, most times I'm glad you did.
If I couldn't remember my parents would probably still be alive, but I wouldn't have been there to help Angel with that Terminator imitation, and I'd never have seen him and Darla again, and why does it always come down to choices between parents? And I wouldn't be where I'm now, and with whom, and I would never wish that away.