I was originally going to have this as a chaptered fic, but I decided not too. This ending is fine just to leave it there. But it is left open just enough that if I wasn't to continue, I can.
For anyone waiting for WCHB chapter eight, be patient, it's coming, I promise. Have faith, I won't let you down. It's just I've been really busy with school work, and I finished this a long time ago, and only just now decided to post it.
Anyway, this is a B/S pairing, so, if ya don't like, don't read. It's the end of Buffy, my way. I wrote this about a month and a half before the finale, so none of it was copied, as you can probably tell. This basically has no plot, and it's kinda freaky how one of the deaths ( I won't say who for ppl who haven't seen it) came true. Anyway, here's my story.
Disclaimer: It's not mine. Any of it *sob* _______________________________________________________________________
Butterfly
Buffy Summers stood amongst the rubble. Dead bodies, both human and demon, littered the ground, brown earth turned red by the blood of hundreds. The sounds of moaning could be heard from the wounded, but other than that there was silence.
As Buffy moved, she swept her tired eyes over the group of people that stood wearily in front of her, doing a mental check of who was there. 'Xander, Willow, Faith, Kennedy, Chloe, Molly, Rona, Giles, Andrew, Spike.' She finished her sweep and realised two people were missing.
"Dawn! Anya! Where are they?" Her voice sounded extremely panicked as opposed to her face, which seemed eerily calm. Once again, Buffy swept her eyes across the sea of faces front of her, silently begging one of them to answer her.
No one did, they all stayed silent and almost motionless as they stood staring at their leader and friend.
Buffy looked over at Xander and saw silent tears sliding down his cheeks. The other members of the group all wore somber expressions also.
"Where are they!?" The blonde practically yelled this time; their silence was deafening to her ears.
Not knowing what to do, and still not saying a word, the group moved aside, slowly, allowing the blonde slayer access to see what all her friends had covered up just seconds before.
The body of her sister lay in a crumpled heap behind where the group was standing just seconds before. There was no peace on her young face; her green eyes were wide with horror and pain, her mouth was opened in a terrified scream that would have looked comical if it weren't so horrific. It looked as though her body was broken in several places. That had happened before her death, Buffy was certain of it.
The blonde turned away from the cold accusing eyes of her dead sister, feeling the bile rise in her throat at the sight. Buffy had seen some horrible things in her time as slayer, some too terrible to mention, almost all she had wished she never saw. But this, it was worse than all of that, worse than anything she could imagine. Seeing her sister lying there brought back the painful memories of seeing her mum lying on that couch, not breathing, not responding. Staring at the ceiling, so cold and lifeless.
Taking a deep breath in, Buffy turned back around to face her friends, and keeping careful to not look her dead sister in the eye, she asked the question almost silently.
"Anya?" They had understood what she meant, Buffy knew it, but it seemed just as before; no one was willing to speak the terrible truth. It didn't matter though; Buffy came to her own conclusions.
"Dead, isn't she?" Her voice held hardly any emotion, but her face betrayed her with the amount of pain and grief etched there on her otherwise young and beautiful face.
She knew she was right, deep down she knew what she had voiced was true, but she looked around at her friends, mentally praying that one of them would prove her wrong, tell her it wasn't real, that none of it was real.
It didn't come.
Minutes passed by in deafening silence until Buffy felt she could take it no longer. She was about to speak again when a barely audible voice spoke up. It was Xander who spoke, though probably the most unlikely of the group.
"Her body is one hundred yards away, underneath that tree over there," he paused, sucking in a breath, and Buffy realised how cold his voice sounded, how void of emotion it seemed. "Her head is about fifty yards away from that."
Buffy felt as if she would crumble at what she had just been told, but she forced herself to stand tall, for her friends, both dead and alive. Someone had to.
"Anyone else?" She was so sick to death of asking the hard questions. Buffy was just glad that for once she wasn't giving the hard answers.
"Almost all of the potentials are gone, some are wounded, the rest of the deceased are the opposing team."
There was such sadness is his voice when Giles spoke, as though he felt he was to blame for all the destruction. All of the death.
That was exactly how Buffy felt at that exact moment, and probably how everyone else felt as well. Truth was, it wasn't anyone's fault, especially not theirs, but in a situation such as this, blame was hard to disregard.
Buffy nodded, her stomach still tied up in knots. Running an eye over her friends once again, the slayer checked this time for any visible signs of wounds. The last person she ran her eye over was Spike, and she finally noticed a huge gash across his stomach he was trying unsuccessfully to hide from her. He had been sitting on the ground for some time, and had made it hard for her to see the wound if she wasn't already looking for one.
Reaching his side, she carefully pulled his hands away from his stomach, blood coating his palms as he hastily tried to wipe it away. He was shaking by now, not much, but enough for her to notice; he was no longer able to control it.
"It's nothing," he muttered with a faint smile when he registered her concerned expression and Buffy almost felt like slapping him for his stupidity. Even if it were nothing, she would never leave him.
"It's not nothing," she whispered gently but forcefully, trying to keep calm. "Spike, you're human now, you're not going to heal with a good nights rest and a bottle or bourbon." She checked his wounds again, and heard the soft yet unmistakable sharp intake of breath from the vampire - 'ex-vampire', Buffy reminded herself with an internal shake of her head, she'd never get used to that.
"You need a doctor."
"Like hell," Spike cursed; looking none too pleased at the thought of a doctor poking and prodding at his insides, trying to put him back good as new. He had experience with doctors, most couldn't be trusted. Just look what happened with Ben.
"Look around luv, there are people much more worse off than me here. Take them to the hospital."
When it looked like she might argue, he placed a soft finger to her lips, silencing her.
"Pet, don't worry about me, I still have my strength, my super healing, or had you forgotten that?"
Actually, Buffy hadn't realised he had kept his strength. So many thing had happened during that fight, it had all started to bleed together.
'Well,' Buffy thought bitterly. 'At least the First's plan to take a warrior out of the cause didn't work out quite as well as the damn thing had hoped.'
But the First was gone now, sent back to whatever dimension it had come from. Buffy realised it would be a long while before they heard anything of the First again.
And that's when it hit her, really hit her. The apocalypse was actually over. The one beast Buffy had doubts that she would ever be able to defeat was gone, it had been driven back. They had won.
But it had cost dozens of girls their lives. It had cost her the life of a dear friend. It had cost Buffy her sister.
Buffy stood back up, standing tall amongst the wounded and the tired. She did the only thing she knew she was good at; she gave orders.
"Giles, Willow, split of into two teams and get everyone who is wounded to a hospital, anyone who can move, get them to help." She stared at her friends standing around, unsure.
"Please, go," her voice was quiet, but sure. She knew why they wouldn't leave; they didn't want her to be left alone, out here.
"What about you?" Willow spoke for the first time. The question was unsure, but she kept eye contact.
"I'll take care of Spike." At her words the Scoobies breathed a sigh of relief, she only wanted to spend time with her boyfriend, it was acceptable to them.
As the group headed off in a different direction, almost all of them carrying some wounded, Buffy turned back to the man still sitting on the ground, clutching his stomach. Her official job was now over, but she still had the unofficial job of girlfriend taking care of boyfriend when said boyfriend was hurt or injured.
"Are you okay? Can you move?"
Spike nodded his answer, and Buffy helped the man up, resting a hand around his waist.
"Are you?" He asked the almost inaudible question after Buffy paused, momentarily, to look at her sister, cold, dead on the ground, the life having been cruelly drained from her. "Ok, I mean?"
Wow, what a question. What a stupid question more like. Still, Buffy answered.
"No," she decided on the truth, she kept no secrets from him, not anymore at least.
Spike nodded, not saying a word. Even if he knew the right thing to say, he'd just end up making it worse for her anyway, and she was in too much pain as it is.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
What a sight it must have been for any passersby, if there were any at five in the morning that is.
A slayer holding a vampire up right, trying to get home ritualistically before the sun rose, both forgetting that it wouldn't be a problem anymore.
As they turned onto Revello Drive, Spike turned and looked the blonde slayer in the eye. They had been silent for most of the walk home, and he had been studying her for most of that time. Only just now did she look up and met his gaze. Her eyes were cold, it seemed no emotion layed in their depths, and he shuddered at what it looked like. He couldn't remember a time when she was this hurt.
She was in so much pain, both physical and mental, he could see that, and yet she was the one helping him, despite her numerous cuts and bruises too.
"What?" Buffy finally asked after moments of silent pondering.
"How do you do it?" He answered the question as he sometimes did, with another question.
"Do what? Get my friends and family killed all the time? It's easy really, after a few gos, you can practically become pro."
"You know that's not what I meant pet. What I did mean, is how do you stay so strong, even when you've lost so much?"
"Practice?" Buffy shrugged. They were both stepping into dangerous territory right now. Buffy didn't want to deal with everything that had happened tonight, she could deal with that tomorrow. When she would come to collect the bodies.
Spike was about to say more when he finally read the pain in her eyes. He quieted right down, to the relief of a grateful Buffy, and they walked the rest of the block in silence.
They got to the house right before sunrise, and were both about to enter, when Spike thought of something.
"Buffy, luv," he started, causing the slayer to stop.
"What is it Spike?" She couldn't help the worry that crept into her voice.
"Can I....I mean, this will be my first sunrise since I was turned. Do you think, maybe..." Buffy shushed him by placing a finger over his lips, of which he kissed lightly. He didn't need to say anymore, she knew what he wanted.
Taking him around the back to where they would have a better view of the sunrise, they both sat down on the little seat-ee located on the porch.
Forgetting his injuries, Buffy sat next to Spike on the seat, placing herself so her back was touching his chest, her head placed in the crook of his neck. Here, with him, right now, made Buffy feel more safe than any time in her whole life. Here, with him, she let her thoughts drift away, listening to the steady thump of his newly aquired heartbeat as she shared with him Spike's first sunrise in over one hundred and twenty years.
Forgetting his injuries, Spike wrapped his arm protectively around the strong young girl in his arms. With her, he was safe, safer than he had been in a long time. Just being with her, feeling her touch, feeling her warmth matching his own, made him feel more alive than his new heartbeat ever could. With her, Spike could be himself. With her, he was totally free. And so he sat there, and shared with her his first sunrise in over one hundred and twenty years.
_______________________________________________________________________
I know the title doesn't fit at all with the story, that's because it was going to be longer, and I can't be bothered to change it now.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed that, I enjoyed writing it :D drop me a line sometime, tell me how much it sucked :D Also, for ppl wishing to email me, for any odd reason, my email address is in my bio thingy ;) I love it when new ppl email me, and I'm looking forward to hearing from you all.
Have a good day, God Bless
Ciao for now
Em
For anyone waiting for WCHB chapter eight, be patient, it's coming, I promise. Have faith, I won't let you down. It's just I've been really busy with school work, and I finished this a long time ago, and only just now decided to post it.
Anyway, this is a B/S pairing, so, if ya don't like, don't read. It's the end of Buffy, my way. I wrote this about a month and a half before the finale, so none of it was copied, as you can probably tell. This basically has no plot, and it's kinda freaky how one of the deaths ( I won't say who for ppl who haven't seen it) came true. Anyway, here's my story.
Disclaimer: It's not mine. Any of it *sob* _______________________________________________________________________
Butterfly
Buffy Summers stood amongst the rubble. Dead bodies, both human and demon, littered the ground, brown earth turned red by the blood of hundreds. The sounds of moaning could be heard from the wounded, but other than that there was silence.
As Buffy moved, she swept her tired eyes over the group of people that stood wearily in front of her, doing a mental check of who was there. 'Xander, Willow, Faith, Kennedy, Chloe, Molly, Rona, Giles, Andrew, Spike.' She finished her sweep and realised two people were missing.
"Dawn! Anya! Where are they?" Her voice sounded extremely panicked as opposed to her face, which seemed eerily calm. Once again, Buffy swept her eyes across the sea of faces front of her, silently begging one of them to answer her.
No one did, they all stayed silent and almost motionless as they stood staring at their leader and friend.
Buffy looked over at Xander and saw silent tears sliding down his cheeks. The other members of the group all wore somber expressions also.
"Where are they!?" The blonde practically yelled this time; their silence was deafening to her ears.
Not knowing what to do, and still not saying a word, the group moved aside, slowly, allowing the blonde slayer access to see what all her friends had covered up just seconds before.
The body of her sister lay in a crumpled heap behind where the group was standing just seconds before. There was no peace on her young face; her green eyes were wide with horror and pain, her mouth was opened in a terrified scream that would have looked comical if it weren't so horrific. It looked as though her body was broken in several places. That had happened before her death, Buffy was certain of it.
The blonde turned away from the cold accusing eyes of her dead sister, feeling the bile rise in her throat at the sight. Buffy had seen some horrible things in her time as slayer, some too terrible to mention, almost all she had wished she never saw. But this, it was worse than all of that, worse than anything she could imagine. Seeing her sister lying there brought back the painful memories of seeing her mum lying on that couch, not breathing, not responding. Staring at the ceiling, so cold and lifeless.
Taking a deep breath in, Buffy turned back around to face her friends, and keeping careful to not look her dead sister in the eye, she asked the question almost silently.
"Anya?" They had understood what she meant, Buffy knew it, but it seemed just as before; no one was willing to speak the terrible truth. It didn't matter though; Buffy came to her own conclusions.
"Dead, isn't she?" Her voice held hardly any emotion, but her face betrayed her with the amount of pain and grief etched there on her otherwise young and beautiful face.
She knew she was right, deep down she knew what she had voiced was true, but she looked around at her friends, mentally praying that one of them would prove her wrong, tell her it wasn't real, that none of it was real.
It didn't come.
Minutes passed by in deafening silence until Buffy felt she could take it no longer. She was about to speak again when a barely audible voice spoke up. It was Xander who spoke, though probably the most unlikely of the group.
"Her body is one hundred yards away, underneath that tree over there," he paused, sucking in a breath, and Buffy realised how cold his voice sounded, how void of emotion it seemed. "Her head is about fifty yards away from that."
Buffy felt as if she would crumble at what she had just been told, but she forced herself to stand tall, for her friends, both dead and alive. Someone had to.
"Anyone else?" She was so sick to death of asking the hard questions. Buffy was just glad that for once she wasn't giving the hard answers.
"Almost all of the potentials are gone, some are wounded, the rest of the deceased are the opposing team."
There was such sadness is his voice when Giles spoke, as though he felt he was to blame for all the destruction. All of the death.
That was exactly how Buffy felt at that exact moment, and probably how everyone else felt as well. Truth was, it wasn't anyone's fault, especially not theirs, but in a situation such as this, blame was hard to disregard.
Buffy nodded, her stomach still tied up in knots. Running an eye over her friends once again, the slayer checked this time for any visible signs of wounds. The last person she ran her eye over was Spike, and she finally noticed a huge gash across his stomach he was trying unsuccessfully to hide from her. He had been sitting on the ground for some time, and had made it hard for her to see the wound if she wasn't already looking for one.
Reaching his side, she carefully pulled his hands away from his stomach, blood coating his palms as he hastily tried to wipe it away. He was shaking by now, not much, but enough for her to notice; he was no longer able to control it.
"It's nothing," he muttered with a faint smile when he registered her concerned expression and Buffy almost felt like slapping him for his stupidity. Even if it were nothing, she would never leave him.
"It's not nothing," she whispered gently but forcefully, trying to keep calm. "Spike, you're human now, you're not going to heal with a good nights rest and a bottle or bourbon." She checked his wounds again, and heard the soft yet unmistakable sharp intake of breath from the vampire - 'ex-vampire', Buffy reminded herself with an internal shake of her head, she'd never get used to that.
"You need a doctor."
"Like hell," Spike cursed; looking none too pleased at the thought of a doctor poking and prodding at his insides, trying to put him back good as new. He had experience with doctors, most couldn't be trusted. Just look what happened with Ben.
"Look around luv, there are people much more worse off than me here. Take them to the hospital."
When it looked like she might argue, he placed a soft finger to her lips, silencing her.
"Pet, don't worry about me, I still have my strength, my super healing, or had you forgotten that?"
Actually, Buffy hadn't realised he had kept his strength. So many thing had happened during that fight, it had all started to bleed together.
'Well,' Buffy thought bitterly. 'At least the First's plan to take a warrior out of the cause didn't work out quite as well as the damn thing had hoped.'
But the First was gone now, sent back to whatever dimension it had come from. Buffy realised it would be a long while before they heard anything of the First again.
And that's when it hit her, really hit her. The apocalypse was actually over. The one beast Buffy had doubts that she would ever be able to defeat was gone, it had been driven back. They had won.
But it had cost dozens of girls their lives. It had cost her the life of a dear friend. It had cost Buffy her sister.
Buffy stood back up, standing tall amongst the wounded and the tired. She did the only thing she knew she was good at; she gave orders.
"Giles, Willow, split of into two teams and get everyone who is wounded to a hospital, anyone who can move, get them to help." She stared at her friends standing around, unsure.
"Please, go," her voice was quiet, but sure. She knew why they wouldn't leave; they didn't want her to be left alone, out here.
"What about you?" Willow spoke for the first time. The question was unsure, but she kept eye contact.
"I'll take care of Spike." At her words the Scoobies breathed a sigh of relief, she only wanted to spend time with her boyfriend, it was acceptable to them.
As the group headed off in a different direction, almost all of them carrying some wounded, Buffy turned back to the man still sitting on the ground, clutching his stomach. Her official job was now over, but she still had the unofficial job of girlfriend taking care of boyfriend when said boyfriend was hurt or injured.
"Are you okay? Can you move?"
Spike nodded his answer, and Buffy helped the man up, resting a hand around his waist.
"Are you?" He asked the almost inaudible question after Buffy paused, momentarily, to look at her sister, cold, dead on the ground, the life having been cruelly drained from her. "Ok, I mean?"
Wow, what a question. What a stupid question more like. Still, Buffy answered.
"No," she decided on the truth, she kept no secrets from him, not anymore at least.
Spike nodded, not saying a word. Even if he knew the right thing to say, he'd just end up making it worse for her anyway, and she was in too much pain as it is.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
What a sight it must have been for any passersby, if there were any at five in the morning that is.
A slayer holding a vampire up right, trying to get home ritualistically before the sun rose, both forgetting that it wouldn't be a problem anymore.
As they turned onto Revello Drive, Spike turned and looked the blonde slayer in the eye. They had been silent for most of the walk home, and he had been studying her for most of that time. Only just now did she look up and met his gaze. Her eyes were cold, it seemed no emotion layed in their depths, and he shuddered at what it looked like. He couldn't remember a time when she was this hurt.
She was in so much pain, both physical and mental, he could see that, and yet she was the one helping him, despite her numerous cuts and bruises too.
"What?" Buffy finally asked after moments of silent pondering.
"How do you do it?" He answered the question as he sometimes did, with another question.
"Do what? Get my friends and family killed all the time? It's easy really, after a few gos, you can practically become pro."
"You know that's not what I meant pet. What I did mean, is how do you stay so strong, even when you've lost so much?"
"Practice?" Buffy shrugged. They were both stepping into dangerous territory right now. Buffy didn't want to deal with everything that had happened tonight, she could deal with that tomorrow. When she would come to collect the bodies.
Spike was about to say more when he finally read the pain in her eyes. He quieted right down, to the relief of a grateful Buffy, and they walked the rest of the block in silence.
They got to the house right before sunrise, and were both about to enter, when Spike thought of something.
"Buffy, luv," he started, causing the slayer to stop.
"What is it Spike?" She couldn't help the worry that crept into her voice.
"Can I....I mean, this will be my first sunrise since I was turned. Do you think, maybe..." Buffy shushed him by placing a finger over his lips, of which he kissed lightly. He didn't need to say anymore, she knew what he wanted.
Taking him around the back to where they would have a better view of the sunrise, they both sat down on the little seat-ee located on the porch.
Forgetting his injuries, Buffy sat next to Spike on the seat, placing herself so her back was touching his chest, her head placed in the crook of his neck. Here, with him, right now, made Buffy feel more safe than any time in her whole life. Here, with him, she let her thoughts drift away, listening to the steady thump of his newly aquired heartbeat as she shared with him Spike's first sunrise in over one hundred and twenty years.
Forgetting his injuries, Spike wrapped his arm protectively around the strong young girl in his arms. With her, he was safe, safer than he had been in a long time. Just being with her, feeling her touch, feeling her warmth matching his own, made him feel more alive than his new heartbeat ever could. With her, Spike could be himself. With her, he was totally free. And so he sat there, and shared with her his first sunrise in over one hundred and twenty years.
_______________________________________________________________________
I know the title doesn't fit at all with the story, that's because it was going to be longer, and I can't be bothered to change it now.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed that, I enjoyed writing it :D drop me a line sometime, tell me how much it sucked :D Also, for ppl wishing to email me, for any odd reason, my email address is in my bio thingy ;) I love it when new ppl email me, and I'm looking forward to hearing from you all.
Have a good day, God Bless
Ciao for now
Em