Buffy thought of when she had first met Willow.
A young girl. Flowing, red, beautiful hair, usually held in braides, parted slightly to the side. Wardrobe consisted of plaid skirts, white blouses, white pantyhose, and leather Mary Janes. This young girl was looked at as the 'school nerd' by society, but none of them knew the sweet, loving, bright, and funny girl behind the mask of shyness and hiding. She had let people walk all over her, tell her what to do, and she would give them little or no lip. She hated just about no one. Maybe Cordelia Chase, but that changed as soon as her best friend started to date her. She was the teacher's pet. Hell, she was a teacher at one point in time.
Then, Buffy had moved to Sunnydale. For Willow, it was a whole new experiance. Buffy was someone who didn't look down on her. She taught Willow to speak up for herself. Not to let people walk all over her. She showed Willow new things, besides vampires, demons, and the Hellmouth. She helped pull her out of the shell she had been cooped up in for so long. Helped her get over Xander and move on, which soon got her a boyfriend. Even though she soon became gay.
Buffy looked at Willow now. What she had become. A young woman. Short, black hair, worn straight and free. Her, usually, glowing orbs had now become black pits that filled their sockets. Her wardrobe, instead of the usuall soft, but pretty, attire, had become black, tight, leather pants, knee-high boots, a short leather jacket over a tight, black, stomach- showing shirt. She had Majiks running through her veins. She was out for vengence and death. She had killed the killer of her lover. She had skinned him alive and burnt his body to ashes. She had hated the world and everything in it with passion. Then, she had almost killed her friends. She faught her best friend for six years. She hurt the people she loved the most. She almost destroyed the world.
That sweet, quiet, smart young girl, had almost burnt the Earth to a crisp in her fury, because, in her mind, the world had so much pain and death in it, she had to put everyone and everything out of it's misery. If it had not been for her best and longest friend, Xander, breaking her down.
Then, Buffy thought what it would be like if she had never came to Sunnydale. If she had never been called, never became the Slayer. Willow would have never had her there to show her the way past her days of shyness and hiding behind her long, red hair. She might still be that shy girl. Then, again, she might have had something horrible happen to her and she would be dead right now, but that's not the point. The point is, she could be living a happy life somewhere. Maybe England, considering that is where she might have gone to college if Buffy hadn't had to stay inside the zip- code. See, another thing that would have changed if Buffy hadn't come. Willow might have a very successful life-style. Somewhere in England, maybe she'd have a girlfriend. It wouldn't be Tara, cause she would have never met Tara if she had gone to another college. Then, she would have never learned about Magic. She would have never had to endure the pain of being addicted to Magic and hurting everyone she loved because of it. She would be happy-Willow.
Not this sad woman sitting on her bed, crying her eyes out over her lost lover. Her now-red hair messed up and in her eyes. Not this small form on this bed in front of Buffy, shaking violently, her eyes puffy and red. The bed is soaked with her tears. A carpet lay over the blood stains on the floor left by the girl that died there.
None of this would have happened. No one would be in so much pain. So much mourning and sorrow.
If Buffy had never come to Sunnydale.
Willow looked up at Buffy, noticing her staring at her.
"Buffy?" she asked, barley above a whisper. She wiped her tears. "What's wrong?"
Buffy stared for a second longer. Then, she choked back a sob.
"Oh, Will. I'm so sorry." Her face crumbled up she collapsed on the bed next her.
Willow looked at her. Crying her eyes out for who-knows-what reason. Willow slowley reached her hand out and softly stroked the back of Buffy's head as more tears streamed down her face. She layed her head back down on the wet pillow and slowly cried as she stroked Buffy's head.
A young girl. Flowing, red, beautiful hair, usually held in braides, parted slightly to the side. Wardrobe consisted of plaid skirts, white blouses, white pantyhose, and leather Mary Janes. This young girl was looked at as the 'school nerd' by society, but none of them knew the sweet, loving, bright, and funny girl behind the mask of shyness and hiding. She had let people walk all over her, tell her what to do, and she would give them little or no lip. She hated just about no one. Maybe Cordelia Chase, but that changed as soon as her best friend started to date her. She was the teacher's pet. Hell, she was a teacher at one point in time.
Then, Buffy had moved to Sunnydale. For Willow, it was a whole new experiance. Buffy was someone who didn't look down on her. She taught Willow to speak up for herself. Not to let people walk all over her. She showed Willow new things, besides vampires, demons, and the Hellmouth. She helped pull her out of the shell she had been cooped up in for so long. Helped her get over Xander and move on, which soon got her a boyfriend. Even though she soon became gay.
Buffy looked at Willow now. What she had become. A young woman. Short, black hair, worn straight and free. Her, usually, glowing orbs had now become black pits that filled their sockets. Her wardrobe, instead of the usuall soft, but pretty, attire, had become black, tight, leather pants, knee-high boots, a short leather jacket over a tight, black, stomach- showing shirt. She had Majiks running through her veins. She was out for vengence and death. She had killed the killer of her lover. She had skinned him alive and burnt his body to ashes. She had hated the world and everything in it with passion. Then, she had almost killed her friends. She faught her best friend for six years. She hurt the people she loved the most. She almost destroyed the world.
That sweet, quiet, smart young girl, had almost burnt the Earth to a crisp in her fury, because, in her mind, the world had so much pain and death in it, she had to put everyone and everything out of it's misery. If it had not been for her best and longest friend, Xander, breaking her down.
Then, Buffy thought what it would be like if she had never came to Sunnydale. If she had never been called, never became the Slayer. Willow would have never had her there to show her the way past her days of shyness and hiding behind her long, red hair. She might still be that shy girl. Then, again, she might have had something horrible happen to her and she would be dead right now, but that's not the point. The point is, she could be living a happy life somewhere. Maybe England, considering that is where she might have gone to college if Buffy hadn't had to stay inside the zip- code. See, another thing that would have changed if Buffy hadn't come. Willow might have a very successful life-style. Somewhere in England, maybe she'd have a girlfriend. It wouldn't be Tara, cause she would have never met Tara if she had gone to another college. Then, she would have never learned about Magic. She would have never had to endure the pain of being addicted to Magic and hurting everyone she loved because of it. She would be happy-Willow.
Not this sad woman sitting on her bed, crying her eyes out over her lost lover. Her now-red hair messed up and in her eyes. Not this small form on this bed in front of Buffy, shaking violently, her eyes puffy and red. The bed is soaked with her tears. A carpet lay over the blood stains on the floor left by the girl that died there.
None of this would have happened. No one would be in so much pain. So much mourning and sorrow.
If Buffy had never come to Sunnydale.
Willow looked up at Buffy, noticing her staring at her.
"Buffy?" she asked, barley above a whisper. She wiped her tears. "What's wrong?"
Buffy stared for a second longer. Then, she choked back a sob.
"Oh, Will. I'm so sorry." Her face crumbled up she collapsed on the bed next her.
Willow looked at her. Crying her eyes out for who-knows-what reason. Willow slowley reached her hand out and softly stroked the back of Buffy's head as more tears streamed down her face. She layed her head back down on the wet pillow and slowly cried as she stroked Buffy's head.