The End of a Different World
Summary: Spike reflects on Buffy's death.
Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Joss Whedon.
Spoilers: Up to "the Gift"
Author's Note: Very short little ficlet.
That day wasn't the end of the world. But at the same time it was.
The funeral...her funeral...was held at night. I have a damn strong suspicion that
decision was more for Peaches sake than mine, but still I am grateful that I could be
there for her. I'll never let go of her. Ever. And for a vampire that's saying something.
I had told her that I would protect Dawn. And I will. No matter how hard it gets,
no matter what happens now, I'll keep that promise. I rarely move from this coffin
anymore. Only dragging myself out of the crypt once a night to check on the Bit before
returning here. I'm acting more like the corpse I am supposed to be, now than any
other time in my life.
That day was supposed to be the end. For everybody. For everything. As much
as I care about Dawn, part of me wishes it had been. Because living here without Buffy
is worse. Buffy's gone and that should never have happened. She had evaded death
once already. Fought for good and all that...couldn't the great Poofters That Be do it
again? Let Buffy live, let her be happy, let her and Dawn keep some form of a family in
each other?
I didn't see her death, at least not the moment when everything that was Buffy
went away leaving only a mortal shell...But I felt it. When I saw her body it simply
confirmed what I already knew. And it had nothing to do with being a vampire. I knew
when she was gone, because I loved her more than I had loved, or will love, anything
else. When something happens to the one that means everything to you. The one that
you wouldn't mind enduring hours of Hellgod torture for. You know. You know when
you've lost them, when the life that means more than your own has slipped through
your fingers. And I knew it then. The world came tumbling down when I saw her body,
cold and lifeless...two things that should have never been used to describe her.
No, that day wasn't the end of the world. It was just the end of mine.
Summary: Spike reflects on Buffy's death.
Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Joss Whedon.
Spoilers: Up to "the Gift"
Author's Note: Very short little ficlet.
That day wasn't the end of the world. But at the same time it was.
The funeral...her funeral...was held at night. I have a damn strong suspicion that
decision was more for Peaches sake than mine, but still I am grateful that I could be
there for her. I'll never let go of her. Ever. And for a vampire that's saying something.
I had told her that I would protect Dawn. And I will. No matter how hard it gets,
no matter what happens now, I'll keep that promise. I rarely move from this coffin
anymore. Only dragging myself out of the crypt once a night to check on the Bit before
returning here. I'm acting more like the corpse I am supposed to be, now than any
other time in my life.
That day was supposed to be the end. For everybody. For everything. As much
as I care about Dawn, part of me wishes it had been. Because living here without Buffy
is worse. Buffy's gone and that should never have happened. She had evaded death
once already. Fought for good and all that...couldn't the great Poofters That Be do it
again? Let Buffy live, let her be happy, let her and Dawn keep some form of a family in
each other?
I didn't see her death, at least not the moment when everything that was Buffy
went away leaving only a mortal shell...But I felt it. When I saw her body it simply
confirmed what I already knew. And it had nothing to do with being a vampire. I knew
when she was gone, because I loved her more than I had loved, or will love, anything
else. When something happens to the one that means everything to you. The one that
you wouldn't mind enduring hours of Hellgod torture for. You know. You know when
you've lost them, when the life that means more than your own has slipped through
your fingers. And I knew it then. The world came tumbling down when I saw her body,
cold and lifeless...two things that should have never been used to describe her.
No, that day wasn't the end of the world. It was just the end of mine.