Author: Gabrielle Collins (Gabby Spike, Elizabeth Wilde)
Title: Taste Death
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks me, my site
[.net/wilde]
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Buffy peeps, much as I'd absolutely love to!
'Ship: Buffy/Riley-ish stuff, but no strong 'ship
Classification: ANGST
Summary: Riley can't take it anymore.
Rating: R for creepiness
Spoilers: Through the beginning of Season 5
Feedback: to wilde at biteyourtongue dot net if you love me
Notes: This was written about a week before I saw "Into the Woods," and in some ways, I like my take better, though certainly it isn't the ending I'd like to see for Riley. I like the guy. But I like angsty fic even more.
There was a bright light
But it was an off white
I'm caught in a landslide
I'm caught in a joyride
As my blood
Begins to thin...
Well you had a hard day
Of pushing me away
Please don't push
I fall easily
It's not like I care
It's not like I'm bleeding
Or numb everywhere
It hurt a little at first. Just a little. Not as much as the first time. A pang, then the pull of having my life drained. It hurt, but it was amazing. There was pleasure in the pain. The physical feeling of self-destruction. I wanted it. I welcomed it. I needed it.
Then the pleasure ebbed and the pain grew. I didn't stop. I didn't want it to stop. The cold, voluptuous body on top of mine was so strong but so fragile. With a flick of my wrist, I could have plunged a stake through her heart and ended her life. Instead I invited her to end mine with my submission.
There was so much pain inside. Everyone I held so tight to, depended on to keep my own sanity, seemed to be gone. Professor Walsh dead, the same of so many I knew, so many friends. Forest dead by my hand. My post lost because I couldn't conform anymore, my future gone with it. Buffy lost in her mother, in Dawn, in learning who she is. I worried that she didn't love me. I know now. I know she doesn't watch me the way I watch her or worry for me like I do.
I'm not sure how long I've been doing this. It's blurring together. There is no distinction in time any longer. Feverish days spent weak and half-aware at Buffy's side followed by nights like this one.
But not like this one. This is the last night. I decided that before she ever came up to me. I knew she would be the last, and I knew I wasn't strong enough mentally or physically to fight anymore. The last one. I knew as the pain grew to unbelievable intensity, the puncture wounds in my neck gaping maws of torture. I could feel the pull deepening. Or maybe it was growing weaker along with me.
I felt her moving away and would have protested if I had any voice left. I would have reached for death. A voice next to my ear whispered, "Do you want eternity? I can make you immortal..."
I think I managed a derisive laugh. But I might just have wanted to. I can't be sure. I knew life was the last thing I wanted, eternity be damned. Using any strength I had left in the effort, I whispered, "I don't even want now. Finish." And she did.