Death Was Her Gift

Thu, 31 May 2001)

crazyevildru <crazyevildru@yahoo.com>

Post ‘The Gift”

-DEATH WAS HER GIFT-

-Comfort-

"We're all going to die."

"No, we're not."

"We are. I can feel it, Xander. We're all GOING to

DIE! The world is going to *end* and we'll all be

tortured. We're all going to Hell tonight, Xander. I

might never see you again and there's nothing,

NOTHING, we can do to stop it. And I don't even like

punch but suddenly I want it and I don't know why

we're even bothering to fight because we're going to

lose anyway an-"

His lips silenced her as his arms wrapped around her

waist. Looking for the Dagon sphere could wait a few

minutes. His girlfriend, and best friend and lover was

upset and *that* upset *him*. She relaxed a little as

his tongue probed her mouth and his hands slipped

under her shirt to caress her back.

"We're gonna be fine." He said reassuringly as he

pulled her closer to him.

She relaxed a little into his chest. "Xander?" She

asked helplessly.

"Yeah?"

She looked up at him and he saw the desperation in

her eyes. He reflected that same look in his own.

"Think we could… ya know… once more… just in case."

"Oh, yeah." He said as he pulled her into the corner.

He felt her stroking him through his jeans, as if he

wasn't already erect. As if he could be in a room with

her and not want her. And if this *was* indeed to be

the last time they'd be with each other, there was no

way he wasn't going to make love to her one last time.

She kissed him fervently as he unzipped his jeans and

pushed them down over his erection. She was panicking.

Blind panic and fear that this would be the last time

she touched him. She ripped his shirt open, ripping a

few buttons as she did, but neither one cared.

"Xander, I love you." She whispered as she took his

face in her hands. She started crying as it dawned on

her that this could be the last time she's able to say

those words.

"I love you too, Anya." He said as he took her face

in his hands. His thumb wiped away the tears from her

cheeks. "Always and forever. Nothing's gonna change

that." He said as he pulled her pants down slowly. He

gently pulled her to the floor and was inside her in

seconds.

He slowly moved inside her as he loved her and he saw

a small tear in her eye. "Hey, it's gonna be okay." He

whispered in her ear. She tried to smile but they both

knew that this was very possibly the last time they

had to be together.

So they just were.

-Letting Go-

"We're not all going to make it. You know this." She

says, but even as she does, the words don't carry

meaning. They can't. She can't think about that. If

she does, she'll surely break down again and she can't

afford that. Not now. Not tonight, when her sister

might bleed.

"Yeah, well, I always knew I'd go down fightin'."

"I'm counting on you," She says and it fills him with

a kind of peaceful bliss that he's never known. "To

protect her." She says in complete sincerity.

"Til the end of the world, even if it happens to be

tonight."

He hands her the weapons and their fingers brush

against each other. It's the closest he's been to her

when they weren't fighting. It sends a shiver up his

spine and he can't remember when he last felt that.

It affects her too but it shouldn't. "I'm gonna go

change." She announces, her eyes on the floor.

"I'll be here." He says as she turns to go upstairs

and he swears she smiled a little for him. Her smile

lights up the sky and her voice is almost heavenly. "I

know you never loved me." He adds. He feels the urge

to tell her, one last time, what she means to him. "I

know I'm just a monster." But he can't, won't, tell

her how he feels. She doesn't need that burden. "But

you treat me like a man. And that's something."

She hesitates for a second. It's so wrong, on so many

levels. But one of them might not make it. The world

might not be here tomorrow and she doesn't care.

"Maybe I could." She whispers and his eyes perk up.

"I've got some weapons in my room. Can you help me?"

She says louder and with that, she turns and

disappears into her room.

She's never asked for help before with carrying

weapons. He knows this and he can't help but hope that

perhaps he could touch her lips once more before he

meets the end. "Sure thing, Luv." He says and follows

her up.

When he gets there, she's got her shirt off to

change. "Oh, I'm sorry." He says and backs out.

"I'm not." She whispers without remembering that

vampires can hear much better than anyone else.

He walks back into the room and her body tingles, as

it has so many other times when he walked into a room.

He take the time to memorize the way the lace is

shaped to her breasts before looking up again. It's

more than he ever hoped for. One glance. A glimmer of

hope.

"I know I never loved you." She says. "But you treat

me like a woman, not a slayer. And that's something."

He walks over to her, half-expecting a stake in the

heart or a slap in the face. Instead, she stands still

as he stands but millimeters away from her lithe body.

He notices her uneven breath and dares to reach out

and caress the swell of her breasts gently. He hears

her heartbeat quicken and looks up at her before he

realizes that her lips are closing in on his.

When they meet, he's more than surprised. He's

shocked. It takes him a minute to kiss her back and

another minute to realize that she's pushed his duster

off. And they both know that there isn't time for any

of it. They both know that they need to get back to

the real world. But she doesn't want to be there right

now and neither does he. He knows she needs to feel

something of hope, of love… of something other than

despair. So he kisses her and she pulls his shirt off.

Her hands run over his pale chest and his body is on

fire, something he's not felt since one night in a

barn in 1880. His hands wrap around her waist and

slide towards the hooks that bind her breasts.

The lace falls helplessly to the floor as the two

slowly move towards her bed. He feels her fingers at

his zipper. "Buffy…" He whispers. He feels overwhelmed

with emotion, not quite believing that he won't wake

up. Hoping that he'll keep dreaming, at the same time,

because the moment is too perfect to leave.

"Shhh…" She places a finger over his lips. He sees

it, in her eyes, that she doesn't want words. Their

lives are probably about to end and she just needs to

feel something good, for once. He understands and he

kisses her as she unzips his jeans. His fingers take

on a life of their own as they work the zipper of her

jeans.

Soon, the two fall on the bed, with her on top. Her

body is strength and, if he closes his eyes tight

enough, love. He argues with himself, tells himself

that she isn't just using him. Maybe she just can't

say the words because she's been down that path once

before. There has to be love there, he can feel it in

her body.

Suddenly the need for her just takes over. He flips

them over before kissing down her body, over her

nipples and navel to her sex. He's surprised to find

her wet, though he doesn't know why he's stunned,

since he can smell her desire in the air.

She feels his cool tongue at her entrance, teasing

her and licking her. She feels his hands on her thighs

and then his fingers inside her and she cries out in

bittersweet pleasure. And she thinks to herself that

her mortal enemy shouldn't be able to give her such

ecstasy. Her mortal enemy shouldn't be the one that

she counts on.

But the thoughts quickly pass because it seems as

though her mortal enemy is the only one that stays

with her long enough. Her mortal enemy is the only one

who comes back.

He continues to move inside her. Is this really the

girl he came to Sunnydale to kill? Was this the girl

he'd spent hours hunting and studying? Was he really

making love to the girl he heard about in a bar in

Boston? She is the slayer. The Chosen One. He

shouldn't love her as much as he does. He shouldn't be

able to love at all, let alone a slayer. And he

certainly shouldn't love her more than Drusilla. But

he does.

"SPIKE!" She screams as she comes. The sound is true

music to his ears. To hear his name pass her lips when

so many times before he heard her scream 'Riley.'

She needs to feel him now and he needs to feel her as

well. She needs to know a man's body once more. If the

world is going to end, she needs to feel once more,

another's pleasure.

He crawls up her body and she feels him rubbing

against her. His eyes question her and she spreads her

legs to invite him inside. He enters her ever so

slowly and watches her face. He wants to memorize it.

He has a feeling that he should remember this.

She's hot and tight and absolutely beautiful, as he

gently thrusts inside. Her body arches up to meet his

and their lips meet again. He enjoys the taste of her

mouth and the touch of her tongue. He likes her

fingers on his back and her breath on his neck.

She enjoys the way he feels inside her body and the

touch of his lips. She enjoys the purring coming from

his chest and the way his eyes clearly adore her. She

never saw it before. She never realized that it wasn't

just lust. It wasn't just obsession. It was love. Pure

and true. And somewhere in her gut, she knows that

this is the only time she'll ever experience that.

She closes her eyes and concentrates on the feeling.

She ignores the memories of Masters and Mayors, souls

and gypsies. She doesn't want to think about the real

possibility of losing her sister, or worse, having to

kill her. She tries to ignore the agony inside her but

can't. She starts crying, out of joy and sorrow, out

of realizing that love was hers to have, but she

continually pushed him away.

She opens her eyes to find him staring at her with

equal tears and their lips meet sweetly. If this will

be her last chance to experience his adoration, she's

going to experience fully and completely.

So she lives and she breaths and she accepts him into

her, over and over again. She cries out and calls his

name and feels his muscles under her hands. And she's

swept away by the tears in his eyes when they crash

together.

He relaxes beside her for a second before she sits up

and gets out of bed. There's work to be done and what

happened in the room must be left there. They both

understand that. "I never…" He starts to say but

doesn't quite know what he wanted to say. "I…"

She walks over to him and kisses him deeply. "I know."

She whispers.

They stand up and get dressed and walk hand in hand

back the magic shop.

He looks up and sees her body laying limp on the

ground. And he is destroyed.

Glowing ember, burning hot, burning slow

And deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing

for only you

I know I can't be with you, I'll do what I have to do

Oh I know I can't be with you, I do what I have to do

And I don't know how to let you go

-It's In The Stars-

In the dark of a new moon they lay under the stars,

fire holding onto her breath, her air. They two lay

and stared for hours. They had been there since it

happened and neither could bear the thought of going

back to the reality of a life without their friend.

"Will, I...I..." Tara broke the silence with her

small voice.

"Shhh...It's ok, I know. Look at the stars. They

are shining for her."

Two more hours passed and only Willow's tears and

Tara's soft "shhh" broke the silence. She held onto

her fire as she fell asleep, it had only been one day

since they lay Buffy to rest. After everything she

did, she is finally at peace.

Buffy lay on the grass beside them, the stars danced

across her eyes and she listened to Tara comforting

Willow. The first friend she had that wasn't fake.

Up until Wil and Xander she had never known true

friendship. Willow knew who she was and loved her

anyway. "I love you, my little witches. Forever."

He sat on the top step of the stairway, looking down

into "Scooby Central". How many fights had that room

seen. How many late nights had there been three

friends sitting down there at his table pouring over

old dusty books looking for answers. What atrocities

had been thwarted right here in this very dwelling?

Demons had broken in, vampires had lain their victims

here, ghosts banished, and all the while there was one

constant - Buffy. He was her watcher, no, he was her

friend and more, Buffy was his daughter. He took on

the job her real father didn't want, and relished every

moment of it. He felt it when she was happy, upset,

hiding something. Giles knew how crazy she thought he

was when she heard about his love for singing and

music. He knew how school was and what she hoped to

do after school. He knew when she lost the battle and

he saw it in her eyes when she won the war. But above

all those things, he always knew she would be walking

through his front door with a new demon to fight or

even just to rave about the sale at the mall. But now

as he took out the song he wrote for her, he had to

face that his door would no longer open on her golden

yellow hair.

Buffy sat on the step beside him and ran her fingers

over the words on the page. No one had ever written

anything about her and now it wouldn't be a tale of

her death that the council would immortalize her for,

it would be her song. Her song her father wrote for

her.

Candles blazed and the fireplace roared, but the only

sound in the apartment was the sound of his crying.

He sat on the floor, curled up in the bend of the

couch and held on to the sweater she had forgotten

there only a week before. It still held onto the

memory of her scent; a bit of lavender, night air and

her shampoo - Pantene. Anya watched from across the

room as Xander squeezed the fabric in his hands, he

cried as he had been for nearly two days now. She

didn't realize he could hurt so much, or that she

could. She had been holding him and had gotten up two

hours ago to try and get him to eat something, when

she came back with the soup she found him curled up

like that on the floor...he didn't even look up

anymore when she spoke his name.

Buffy wrapped her arms around Xander and held him

while he cried, poor Anya, so much death and she

doesn't know how to help him. "Just love him, love

him the way you do."

Her room. It was always her room. No one had to

create it, make it her room when once it wasn't. Her

bed, her books, her clothes - they are all real. She

died and they are still here. Would mine be? Dawn

sat on Buffy's bed surrounded by all her big sisters

blankets and stuffed animals. She had been laying

there reading over her journal entries for the past

year, were they real? When was she "made", when she

flips back in the book, when does the writing stop

being hers and become some bit of fiction that the

monks created? If she had gotten to take her turn and

close the portal the way she wanted it would be her in

that cold dirt. Or would it? What happens to a key

when it is all used up? Would anyone have been

sitting here mourning her, or would it have all been

reversed like a bad deja vu that no one can explain?

"Now I will never know. My sister, my friend, my

beloved Buffy is no more. Your hair, your skin and

bones, they are all gone." Dawn sat and cried into a

picture of the two of them on a beach she had probably

never really seen. "I won't feel your kiss on my

cheek at night and you won't hug me when it hurts to

be me.....You know I love you so."

Buffy watched her transparent hand glide across

Dawn's cheek trying to brush away the tears of pain

that her death had put there. "You know I love you so

much."

In the dark red of his bedroom was where he sat, he

had been there for two days. Two days since he

watched them close the lid over her radiant beauty.

Two days since he sat in the shadows of his car as

they lowered her into the ground beside her mother.

He ignored the first few knocks on his door, he wanted

to be alone, to sit and realize that he had left her.

He had burnt down the bridges between them and drawn a

line and dared her not to cross it. He wanted her to

have so much in life, to have a life at all - and now

it was gone. He had denied her the happiness she had

wanted and for what? He should have jumped in and

swam across for her, she asked him if forever would

work for him, he should have said yes.

She caressed his cheek and ran her fingers through

his hair. "I am still your girl."

The grass had the first fleck of dew forming on it

when he came and knelt before her stone. He had been

numb for days, even double doses of the usual

alcoholic dietary supplements weren't helping. She

never loved him, but it didn't matter, he made a

promise to himself to protect her forever. She was

his shining beauty, the yellow sunlight that couldn't

burn him. She thought it was purely lust, if only she

had known. He tried to save Dawn, to end it before it

began, but he failed and now his light was gone. The

sun would shine no more. He sat there talking to her,

telling her about the stupid trivial things of Dawn's

day. Not that it had been much, little one just

wanted to sit in Buffy's room, but Spike told Buffy of

all the things they talked about. He would never let

her down, he is immortal and with that he promised to

protect Dawn until her last breath, and to himself

promised to take care of any Summers children that

might come from that life. He had even set a resolve

to protect the Red and the witch, Anya and even the

lug Xander. They were all part of Buffy, she

protected them all with her life....for us she bled

herself dry.

Buffy kissed Spike's cheek as he cried. She would be

there listening every night when he came, and she

would be there to witness it all by Dawn's side in the

daylight where he couldn't go. She watched as he got

up to avoid the first rays of light and as he walked

away crying crimson tears she whispered "For you I

bleed myself dry."

"Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

And all the things that you do"

For Buffy

-Her Gift in His Arms-

Two. Two slayers. Two slayers I wished dead. Two

slayers I fought to the death. Two slayers I killed.

Two. And now there are three. Two died by my hands.

One more died in my heart.

I should have wished her dead. I tried so many times.

I lashed out and tried but I failed. And I loved. She

didn't believe me. Why should she have? But I did,

more than I care to admit to anyone but myself.

I don't have a soul. It was gone for two hundred

years. But I think maybe it came back again, for a

short time. Perhaps she was my soul… maybe I was just

never cut out to be a killer. But now she's gone and

my soul disappeared, again, along with her. She'll

never get to know how much I really did love her.

She'll never know my love or devotion.

I hurt and I bleed and it kills me inside, a little

more, every second. I don't understand why I feel this

pain. I should be happy. I should be jumping on her

bloody grave, screaming and taking credit for the

death of the greatest slayer in history. I should be

anywhere but weeping at her grave, holding her little

sister.

Blood tears soak the ground above where Buffy Summers

rests, finally in peace. Finally having figured out

that death is her gift. That's what she said. Death

was her gift.

I keep thinking that perhaps her death was somehow a

gift to all of us. *Her* gift. Dawn was her gift to

us. Nibbler is strong and brave. She carries a bit of

the slayer inside her, not just in her blood, but also

in her soul. Death was her gift. Hardly seems

appropriate though.

It was no gift. Certainly not for Nibbler. Not for

anyone.

I've contemplated, in the past two days since her

death, staying out in the sun. I've wondered what it

would be like to kiss the sun one final time. I wonder

if it would hurt half as much as she hurt when she

said her final goodbyes to the world.

But I made a promise. I promised that I would protect

her sister until the end of the world. And the world

still goes on. And so do I.

-My Gift-

"BUFFY!" I shrieked. But it didn't do any good and by

the time I got down there… *I* did it. *I* killed my

sister. Her body was broken. She looked sad and in

pain and *I* did this. She seemed to have a smile on

her face, or at least a look of peace and I didn't

understand why. Didn't it hurt? If it hurt me, it had

to have hurt her.

Summers blood. That's what she said. Mine was the

same as hers. "It's just like mine." That's what she

said. I guess she was right. One Summers is good as

another. Except I'm not real and it's not fair that

she's gone and I'm here.

I slept at Willow and Tara's place last night but I

don't need their pity. The night before, I was at Anya

and Xander's. The night before, at Giles'. But none of

it does me any good. I should be dead. It should be

*me* down… there… beneath Buffy.

But apparently this is a gift. Hers to me. But I

don't want it!

Buffy always said that no matter what she bought me

for my birthday, I always wanted to return it. She

said I was impossible to shop for because she never

knew what I wanted. She said I was the perpetual

returner and the annoying sister.

What I wouldn't give to hear those words again!

Because I don't want this… gift. So I guess I am what

she said.

"Oh, Buffy…" I whisper. "Why'd you do that? It was

*my* job."

"It won't matter soon enough." I turn around and look

up. Vampire. But I don't try to run or scream. Let him

come. Let him drink the key right out of me. Maybe

it'll bring Buffy back. Maybe then I won't be the key

and she'll be alive. Maybe she'll forget all about her

sister and be able to move on with her life.

"Sad little girl." He says as he grabs me. I don't

fight. I don't care. I'll die over Buffy's grave. Even

if she doesn't come back to life, at least we'll all

be together again, right? All three of us Summers

women, the way it should have been.

"DAWN!" I hear him scream and before I know it, the

vampire is dust and I'm on the ground. "What are you

doin' out here, Luv? It's dangerous. There are too

many demons." I look at his eyes. He's scared for me,

petrified. But I don't care.

"Let them take me."

"Don't say that." He says as he puts his hand out.

"What's the point? Nothing matters."

"You do."

I look up at him and say, "No, I don't. I'm a key!

For destruction! To end the world! I don't matter! I

kill people!" I scream as I stand up. I look over at

him but he just stares back at me and I sigh. "You

wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't I?" He asks. "I’m a killer, Nibbler. A

vampire. Also built for destruction. But there's a

difference between us, Luv. I didn't matter! *You*

did. Big Sis gave up her life so *you* could have

yours, because you matter to her. You think she'd want

you to die to some lowlife vamp? On her grave,

nonetheless?"

I see his eyes start to get red. Spike's going to

cry. "You really loved her." I say.

"That didn't matter. It doesn't matter. I know she

never loved me. I know she never could." He pauses for

a moment and for just a brief moment, I wish I could

lie to him. I wish I could tell him that Buffy *did*

love him, just to give him that. But we both know it'd

be a lie. "But it doesn't matter," he continues. "All

that mattered was you. You know what she said? She

knew she wasn't going to make it. She told me to

protect you and I said I would, with my life, until

the end of the world and I'm going to do that."

"Why? She's dead. You could kill us all. There's no

slayer to stop you."

"I made a promise. Sometimes things happen and you

can't change them. You can't stop them and you just

have to deal. Sometimes, doing what's right hurts the

most. Picking up the pieces and moving on is where

it's at, Luv."

"But I've got no one left." I whisper, tears flooding

my eyes.

"Bullocks!" I feel his hand lift my chin and I can

tell he's fighting back the tears. Spike cries. That

entire idea is as foreign to me as the idea of Buffy

being truly dead. "You've got Rupert and the witches

and the little boy and ex-demon. And you've got your

dad… and you've got me."

"You?"

"Until the end of the world, Kiddo." He smiles a

little. "Now let's get you some grub. I think ice

cream is appropriate tonight." He extends his hand and

I take it.

"Can we go home, tonight?"

"Sure thing, Luv."

We walk down the street towards Revello Drive, my hand

in his. Some of what he said makes sense, some is

still sinking in. Buffy *did* sacrifice her life so I

could have one. Perhaps he's right. I shouldn't throw

that in her face. I shouldn't waste mine because I'm

the only Summers left.

Maybe for once, I should prove that I'm not the

annoying little sister she said I was. I'm the key.

I'm living energy and I'm filled with Summers blood.

So I guess in a way, Buffy lives in me. Maybe that's

the real gift.

And I wouldn't wanna return that for anything.

-Having Her Back-

I know what she feels because I feel it too. We all

feel it; and although our grief is painful, our joy is

strong. She opens the bathroom door and I watch as her

face lights up. I've lit candles all around the room.

Tonight is special. It should be treated as such. And

even as our pain fills and consumes us…

"Tara, it's beautiful."

"You're beautiful." I say with a smile. I love her

robe with the kittens on it. Only Willow could make a

flannel kitten robe look so sexy.

"I was so worried I'd never hear you again." She

confesses. "I was afraid you were lost forever."

"Never. I'll always come back to you." I say and she

sits on the bed beside me.

"I was so scared, I…" Her eyes fill with tears and I

pull her into my arms and she sobs for what seems like

hours. Her best friend is dead and she shouldn't be so

happy. I understand. I feel the same way.

"Shhh, Sweetie. It'll be okay. It'll get better."

"Oh, Tara." She whispers through her tears. I pull

her face up to mine and brush her lips with mine

sweetly. I hold her face in my hands and kiss her

until she kisses me back and her robe falls open.

She's bare underneath and I catch a glimpse of her

pale perfect skin. She moans softly when I sneak my

hands inside and I moan as I feel her hands on my bare

back and in my hair. I've missed this. I've missed

her.

She pushes me back and lays on top of me. I can feel

her skin on mine and our breasts pressing against each

other, before I feel her fingers slowly caressing the

outside of my lips. "Willow…" I whimper.

"I've missed that sound." She says and I completely

understand.

She kisses down my body slowly before licking my

outside. I feel her tongue lapping at my sticky heat

and I whimper and moan, as she loves me with her

mouth. Goddess how I love her mouth! How I love her!

She's my Willow. She's mine. She told me so, several

times. She's mine.

"WILLOW!" I cry out, as I come harder around her

tongue. She kisses her way up my body and I feel her

fingers inside me.

"Come on, Tara. Come for me."

I whimper and she moans as I start fingering her as

well. "Come *with* me." I whisper and she smiles as we

kiss again. I can taste myself on her sweet tongue and

I'm so glad she found me. A lifetime without Willow

would be an eternity.

"I love you." She whispers, before screaming her

release.

She's beautiful as we lay together in bittersweet

bliss surrounded by candlelight. We've lost such a

dear friend, but I have Willow back and that counts

for something. I'd like to think that Buffy is smiling

down on us tonight.

-Louder Than Words-

"Someone should tell Angel." The words shatter me, as

I realize the words he'll hear will shatter him.

"I'll go." I volunteer. And I don't know why. But I

do and so I drive. Maybe it's because he's my sire and

he loved the slayer just as much as I do. Maybe it's

because I need him now. Maybe it's because he'll need

me. Perhaps we'll need each other.

Since that morning, I haven't let anyone see me cry.

I've held it in. I was strong, like what she would

have wanted. I held Nibblet as she cried and pounded

me with tiny fists. I held witches and ex-demons. I

hugged and made arrangements, when watchers couldn't.

No one said anything. No one said thank you and no

one held *me*. Maybe that's why I'm going. Because I

need my sire right now.

"Wait! Let m-" I look down at the peroxide-blond heap

on my stoop. Something's not right. "Spike?" I ask.

"Will?" I say and he looks up. His eyes are red and

swollen and little drops of blood are starting to

form. He's shaking and sobbing and I know. Like sire,

like childe. And now, Buffy's dead.

I have this intense need to heave my guts out or rip

my guts out. But my legs just give out or give up

instead, I'm not sure which. It's like they can't hold

the truth or can't support the weight that comes

crashing down over my body. So I fall to the cement

and I scream. I cry and I pound my fists against the

pavement. I breathe when I don't have to and I pant

for air I don't need. I cry until there's blood oozing

out of my pores and beyond.

She's gone. She's gone. Buffy's dead. Buffy is not

falling in love. Buffy is not getting married. Buffy

is not having children or making love. Buffy is not.

Somewhere, in the pain and agony and fits of rage and

explosions of red in my mind and eyes, I feel his

hands and I pull him close to me. We hold each other

because we have nothing else to hold onto.

I can smell her on him, on his clothes, on his heart

and artificial soul. I want to devour that. I want to

keep that part of her forever but she is no more. He

cries and he screams in my ear and he cries some more

until he's got blood oozing out of his pores and

beyond.

He cries because he never knew her love. He never

knew her lips or smile. He didn't taste her or touch

her. He cries because he never had a chance to make

love to her or touch her breast. He cries because he's

holding onto me when he wants to be holding onto her.

But she's gone and we can't do anything about that; so

we cry because it's too late for either one of us.

Our slayer is gone and we grieve together; because,

only with each other, can we still be strong now. And

perhaps if we hang onto each other, we can survive the

ecstasy of grief and not be hollow, empty rooms.

-The News-

Spike left a little over two hours ago after we

spilled all the tears we could. It's still not real to

me. I don't think it can be. Buffy is gone. Buffy

died. I take a deep breath and maintain my composure.

I have work to do. There are more people who don't

know. I must spread the news.

Most days it doesn't bother me, being here, that is.

Most days it's like a comfortable blankie on a cold

day. Strangely enough, this cell is comfort to me.

Surely it's better than the Hell I created inside

myself. I can escape that Hell by pissing the guards

off and taking a beating. I can escape the Hell inside

by not eating for a week or scratching myself up until

they take me to the infirmary and giving me drugs.

Then are some days when I have to return to that

place. It's the only way I can remember why I'm here

and why I don't fight my way out. Those are the days

of scratching and screaming and crying for everything

I've done to myself. Those are the days spent crawling

up the walls and banging my head against the cement

wall behind my bed. Those are the days that I remember

what I did to deserve this. I hurt B. I hurt the only

person who ever gave a damn about me. I chained her up

and tried to steal her boyfriend. I plotted to kill

her and all her friends. And I was happy doing it.

Those are the days when forgiveness and hope

disappear completely.

Those are the days I call Angel.

Today is one of those days.

I'm happy when they come to get me and take to me the

visitors center. I need to hear his voice. He's the

only one who can truly understand. He's the only one

who hurt B more than I did. He's the one who gives me

hope that one day B might be able to forgive me.

I see her before she sees me. She's got new scratches

on her arms and a bruises on her face. I often wonder

if she doesn't purposely goad the guards into beating

her. I think she thinks that she deserves it.

She calls me on days that she needs help making it.

She called this morning and left a message. We weren't

back yet. But now we are and I have to tell her that

the hope of forgiveness that gets her through these

days is completely gone.

I reach our booth and look up at him and Gods his

face! His eyes! I scream and crumple to the floor

crying. He doesn't have to say anything. I know. B is

dead.

-Replacement-

She's gone and I'm not really sure how to react to

that. She's gone and I'm not sure if I'm happy, sad or

indifferent. She was my sister, even if only for a

brief time. I open the door to find them all there.

They look up and I don't find pity. Good. I don't want

it. I don't need it.

But their expressions are still too much for me to

handle and I run out. I just run and run and I'm not

sure where I'm going because I'm not sure what I

should feel right now. I find myself in front of her

grave instead.

Buffy Anne Summers.

"B?" I ask, as if I'm expecting an answer. "I don't

know what to do here, B. Angel told me that you died

and that they need a slayer on the Hellmouth. And I'm

it. And I'm scared." I don't know why, but I start to

cry.

"I can't be half the slayer you were, B. I'm no good

at it. The title of hero was never mine to have. You

wore it too well. But they expect me to be here and

your friends hate me."

"Hello?" I spin around and find myself looking into

the sad and red eyes of William the Bloody. "Who the

bloody hell are you? You a vampire come to destroy her

grave?" He growls at me and shows fang.

"Relax. I'm Faith. You probably don't remember me."

"Faith?"

"Vampire slayer. The crazy one. We met in the Bronze

while I was in B's body."

He thinks for a minute until I see recognition. "They

sent you for the Hellmouth?"

"Yeah. I was just… there was a lot of bad blood

between B and me. There was a lot unsaid."

"Tell me about it." He looks so sad as he kneels down

beside me and places a rose over her grave.

I'm curious to ask why a vampire would be placing a

rose on a slayer's grave. But I don't. He's near tears

and he obviously has a good reason and it would be

wrong of me to ask. It's none of my business. We all

have issues with B's death. Apparently even the

vampires do.

After a few minutes he stands up. "There's a meeting

tonight."

"Yeah, I was there but I left. I'm not really

welcome."

"Well, lets go together. They don't like me much

either."

We walk in silence and I'm thankful that there aren't

any vampires or demons to fight on the way. It's been

a long time since I used my supernatural strength and

I'm not sure I want to. I wish B were here.

He opens the door to the magic shop and they all look

up before looking back down. All except Dawn. She

walks over to him and he holds her for a few minutes.

He whispers something to her and he sits down before

she crawls into his lap. There's a girl on Xander who

I don't know. The blonde with Wills looks familiar. I

think I met her in the Bronze, wasn't particularly

nice to her, if I remember right.

No one looks at me so I just stay by the door. I

didn't expect a warm welcome. I look around. It's

nice, Giles' shop. "Ah, Faith, you're here." I turn

around and Giles walks in. "Angel called and said you

were on your way."

"Yeah…" I look to the floor. I can't look at him. I

failed him.

"Have you done any slaying recently?"

"Not since I left… before…"

"Then we'll start training again tomorrow afternoon.

Come sit." I follow him and sit down on a crate near

the register. I shouldn’t be near them after I've hurt

them so much.

"Why don't you sit here, Luv?" I look up and Spike's

moved over on the bench. I shake my head but he points

to the bench and his eyes are insistent.

I sit next to him. "Thanks." I play with my thumbs

beneath the table.

"All right." Giles says, taking his place at the head

of the table. "We're all aware of Faith's presence. I

think we should get our feelings out on the table;

because Faith is the slayer and she'll need our help."

No one moves. No one says anything. I briefly look up

and find Xander's hateful eyes looking at me.

"I don't…" I cough and clear my throat. "I don't

wanna cause trouble. I don't even wanna be here."

"Then leave." He says coldly.

"Xander." Giles warns. "As much as we would like

things to be different, they aren't. And we need a

slayer on the Hellmouth."

"Fine." I say. "I'll slay and find an apartment or

something and stay out of your way. I know you all

hate me. I don't blame you. Maybe if I'd been here, B

would still be here."

"No sense being all noble now, Faith." Xander snaps.

I'm about ready to leave when I feel a hand on my

shoulder. I turn to face the person who dares touch

such filth. It's Dawn. B's little sister. The one that

I scared numerous times. The one that watched me punch

their mother. "It's not your fault." She says. "I'm

happy you're here. I think Buffy would like that. And

you can stay with me at the house."

My eyes fill with tears and I look away. She stands

up and hugs me.

I don't know what to do. I don't think anyone has

ever really hugged me.

"All right. Spike, can you patrol tonight?"

"Sure thing, Rupe's."

"Faith, I want you to get some rest. We'll start

training tomorrow."

I nod and everyone stands up. Xander just walks out

the door with the girl I don't know. I stand awkwardly

by, waiting for Dawn. I won't disrespect her when she

treated me like an actual person.

"Faith?" I turn around ready to take some new comment

up the ass but I find Willow looking at me with a

smile. "I wanted to introduce you to my girlfriend,

Tara."

"Pleased to meet you." I shake her hand and they seem

to have forgotten how I was completely rude to them.

But I haven't. "Look, I'm sorry about…"

"Don't worry about it, Faith." Willow says. "We were

going to get some pizza, Tara and I. You and Dawn are

welcome to join us."

"Good." Dawn says.

"I *am* kinda hungry." I say quietly.

"Great."

I'm walking Dawn home. I escorted Willow and Tara

home. Dinner was actually pleasant. I mainly listened

and answered questions they asked. But it was nice.

We're almost there when a pair of vampires jumps out

in front of us. One grabs Dawn and I scream and lunge

at it. I tackle it to the ground and punch it a few

times. I don't have a stake. Shit!

I hear her scream again and look back. The other has

her, ready to bite. "NOOOOO!" I scream and snap the

neck of one I'm on top of before making my way for the

other one. I kick it twenty feet and Spike stakes it

when it lands. He throws the stake to me and I stake

the one on the ground.

"Are you okay?" I ask Dawn.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"You alright, Luvs?" He asks us both.

"Yes. Faith saved me."

"I didn't have a stake." I say. "I'm so stupid."

"No. You're not." She says. "I'm tired."

We all get to her house and she says goodnight to

Spike. She kisses him on the cheek and runs upstairs.

He turns to me and I hand him the stake back but he

doesn't take it. "Keep it. Consider it as a gift."

"Thanks." I put it in my coat pocket and watch as he

flops on the couch after pulling the curtains closed.

"Make yourself comfy." He says.

"I shouldn't stay. I… I shouldn't be here."

"Sure you should. You're the slayer. *I'm* the one

who shouldn't be here, but I promised the Sla-Buffy."

"Why?" I ask as I sit down in front of the couch.

"Cause I loved her." He says and I don't say

anything. "You and me, we gotta protect her friends.

We gotta take care of Nibblet. For Buffy."

I lean my head back and turn my head so I can look at

him. For some reason, I feel close to him. Maybe cause

we both don't belong. Maybe cause we're both sorry

replacements for the best person we ever knew.

-Visitor-

The winter here's cold and bitter

It's chilled us to the bone

Haven't seen the sun for weeks

Too long, too far from home

I haven't been here yet. I haven't been able to face

the very real reality of it. But I can't ignore it

any more. Gods how I want to ignore this sinking

feeling every time I hear the words or even think

them. Buffy's dead. Buffy's not swimming or laughing

or loving. She's not anything. She's rotting beneath

my feet even as I stand here.

I didn't leave her to die. I didn't leave so she

could die. I left so she could have a life and love

and a life without demons. But it didn't work out that

way. I left, she lost her 'normal boyfriend', she

couldn't get free of the demons. I wasn't there to

help her fight, so she died. And that's all my fault.

I was supposed to protect her. I failed and I'll

never forget.

That's what she said. She said she'd never forget. I

can't help but wonder that in those few seconds it

took her to die, if she remembered. But I guess I'll

never know.

I wonder if she remembered making love all day with

me, because it's all I have of her now. It's all I

have.

I sink to the ground and run my fingers over the

words: Buffy Anne Summers. Beloved sister. Beloved

friend. She saved the world a lot. "OH BUFFY!" I cry

and I claw for solid ground but I can't stop the

undertow from dragging me down. And at times like

these, when I feel my chest caving in, I don't think

my body understands that I don't need air because I

pant and gasp for it, but it never comes and I die.

Buffy's dead.

I look up. I can sense the sun. I could always feel

it in my bones. I wonder if she can feel it now. She

used to. She used to curse her body for letting her

feel and sense things that no other human knew about.

I guess she's free of those curses now. Still, I can't

help but wonder. I look towards the east. It's coming

soon. I feel like letting go. I don't want this life

anymore. I don't want this pain.

Like I said, it's not the demon in me that needs

killing. It's the man.

If all of the strength and all of the courage come and

lift me from this place

I know I could love you much better than this, full of

grace, My Love

"Angel?"

I turn around and see her standing there before me,

basking in a light of an intensity that I've never

seen. "Oh god, Buffy." I scramble over to her but fall

through her legs to the ground.

"It's better this way." She whispers. "I'm in a

better place now, Angel. I have love and a life

without demons."

"Not this way." I say. "It wasn't supposed to be like

this."

She puts her hand to my face and I can feel the heat

radiating from her glow. "It was time."

"Buffy… I can't do this. I can't go on without

knowing you're alive somewhere."

"I am alive somewhere, Angel. I'm alive in all of

you."

"I'm not strong enough."

"Yes you are, Angel. I can see it, inside you. I can

see all the good that's there. I can see all the love

you have to give. I need you to be strong for me. You

*have* to be strong."

If all of the strength and all of the courage come and

lift me from this place

I know I could love you much better than this

I know I could love you much better than this

"No. I won't let you leave. Stay with me."

"I'm always with you, but you need to be strong. You

need to help Faith and the others. You need to be

strong for Spike and Dawn."

"I miss you so much."

"I'm always with you, Angel. Always." I watch as she

starts to fade.

"BUFFY!"

"It's better this way, Angel."

"Buffy! Are you still my girl?"

"Always. I love you."

-Job's Done-

I remember falling. I remember feeling my blood

boiling and being torn apart. I remember feeling

completely weightless and unimportant. And the last

thing I remember is a feeling of peace, of finally

knowing that it was over.

That *I* was over.

And I remember standing up and seeing my body, limp

and broken on the ground. I can still see the tears in

Willow's eyes and pain in Xander's. I remember looking

over and seeing Dawn flying down the stairs, only to

fall to her knees and shriek.

I can still see the trees as I followed them back to

the house. I watched as they cried. I can see Dawn

walking upstairs with a vacant look in her eyes as she

shook. She fell to the floor in the hallway and I can

see Spike taking her in his arms and stumbling into

her room.

He held her there, all day and all night. And I

watched as they wept together.

He's beautiful. I've watched him for so long. I've

watched him train new slayers and I've watched him

fight by their sides. I watched him be strong for

everyone, while he crumbled inside. And I've loved

him.

I'm not sure when it happened. Maybe it was when I

saw his eyes as they laid me to rest. Perhaps it was

as I watched his blood tears falling upon my grave

every night at midnight, for seventy years. Perhaps it

was when he held my baby sister's hand as she passed

away painlessly in the night, or when he walked her

down the aisle. I'm just not sure. There have been so

many moments. So many days sitting by his side,

touching his face, running my fingers effortlessly

through his hair. And in some way, I think he knew I

was there. I think he knew, when I would lay beside

him and whisper his name.

And now he's here, again. Shedding tears for us both.

"Slayer," He whispers. "I thought that you should

know that Dawnie is gone. She's on the other side of

your mum. She didn't feel any pain, I don't think." He

pauses as his tears fall upon the crimson circle in

the ground. He's cried so many times that the ground

is blood red.

I touch his shoulder as I have for years. "Spike." I

whisper.

"Buffy?" He whispers before turning around. "Buffy!"

His eyes light up with joy.

"Can you see me?" I ask him in disbelief.

"Yes!" He reaches out but his fingers pass right

through my body and the light in his eyes disappears.

I'm not real and it hurts him. He pulls away and looks

at me. "You came back."

"I've always been here." I tell him. "Every night."

"I know." He nods his head a little and flashes me a

small smile.

"I know you did." I smile back.

"Dawn… she…" I can see tears start to form in his

eyes. He hurts for me and Dawn.

"She's with me, with us… Mom and I."

"Oh. Good." He seems content at that and looks down

before saying, "Slayer… I…" But he can't continue. He

just looks up at me with tears in his eyes. I know

what he wants to say.

I extend my hand to him and whisper, "Let's dance."

He looks almost relieved as he takes my hand, like

he's been waiting to die, finally. He seems peaceful

with the knowledge.

I pull him towards me and by some miracle; his arms

are able to hold me close. He inhales deeply, his nose

in my hair. "God, I love you so much." He says, but I

already know.

"I love you too, Spike."

"What?" He looks at me and I can't believe that all

these years, he knew I was there and didn't know how

much I love him. He still doesn't believe me. Maybe he

doesn't want to admit it to himself because it would

mean that his death will separate us. I press my lips

against his gently as I plunge the stake into his

heart. He turns to dust in my hands and I watch them

fall upon the tears he's cried.

I turn around and see him standing there. "Your job's

well done." I say. "It's time. Dawn's waiting for us."

I extend my hand to his and smile.

"Oh Buffy!" He whispers before taking my hand. We

leave this Earth behind.

=====