Title: Breathe Farewell
Author: silverthorned
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, creator.
Category: Spike/Buffy
Summary: Spoiler "The Gift." When all are gone, what remains?
*
It is a fickle night. The wavering clouds dim the moon. It
persists in its shining, making a valiant effort to drench the
ground with white light. The winds high above care not what
covers the sky, helping and hindering the moon's cause.
The cool breeze flutters the leaves in the trees, setting them
rustling with dizzying grace. The sound of the cricket's chirp is
an ever present hum.
A man walks, his head bowed, and the moon cuts through a cloud to
halo his white hair. He looks up, letting the light bathe his
face, a handsome one, uncommon, though, only in the chiseled
shadows of his cheekbones.
Sometimes he thinks he dreams, that the past ten years are
figments of his imagination, that the young girl's death had not
happened, that the last image he'd had of her sister had not been
her stone face.
She'd been silent with grief and paralysing guilt, and every word
he said was received with an empty stare. He'd caught her in a
moment of solitude. Her friends had not forsaken her, but they
had their own grief to battle. So he'd come, hoping to comfort,
instead he knew he'd simply added to her pain.
So he'd held her hand and did something he would never have dared
unless she'd been alone. He kissed her, her lips against his, and
she had tasted ashen.
He'd said, "Slayer," the epithet hard on his lips and left.
Completely.
He followed their progress, knew when Giles had left, knew when
Willow and Tara moved away, knew when Xander and Anya had gotten
married. They took Buffy in, until she disappeared.
He knew that she was searching for him. He hid from her. Though
there were times she'd been so close he could see her, she'd never
been able to catch him.
He knew when she died. He'd felt it, a sudden prickling of his
skin, and worse, a tearing inside him that forced him to his
knees. In a heartbeat it was over, and he'd longed for death
himself.
Death could not come until he said goodbye.
He walks now, into the cemetery, past the familiar landmarks, his
old crypt, Alpert's large memorial, to a spot he'd visited before,
when her mother died.
He stops in front of, not her marker, but her eldest daughter's.
He kneels, to touch the face of it and he reads what is written
there.
Buffy Anne Summers
1981-2010
Why did you leave?
He weeps and when his tears are spent, he lies down, his face
touching the cold ground. He murmurs into it, words of love,
words of regret, words of farewell.
End.
Author: silverthorned
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, creator.
Category: Spike/Buffy
Summary: Spoiler "The Gift." When all are gone, what remains?
*
It is a fickle night. The wavering clouds dim the moon. It
persists in its shining, making a valiant effort to drench the
ground with white light. The winds high above care not what
covers the sky, helping and hindering the moon's cause.
The cool breeze flutters the leaves in the trees, setting them
rustling with dizzying grace. The sound of the cricket's chirp is
an ever present hum.
A man walks, his head bowed, and the moon cuts through a cloud to
halo his white hair. He looks up, letting the light bathe his
face, a handsome one, uncommon, though, only in the chiseled
shadows of his cheekbones.
Sometimes he thinks he dreams, that the past ten years are
figments of his imagination, that the young girl's death had not
happened, that the last image he'd had of her sister had not been
her stone face.
She'd been silent with grief and paralysing guilt, and every word
he said was received with an empty stare. He'd caught her in a
moment of solitude. Her friends had not forsaken her, but they
had their own grief to battle. So he'd come, hoping to comfort,
instead he knew he'd simply added to her pain.
So he'd held her hand and did something he would never have dared
unless she'd been alone. He kissed her, her lips against his, and
she had tasted ashen.
He'd said, "Slayer," the epithet hard on his lips and left.
Completely.
He followed their progress, knew when Giles had left, knew when
Willow and Tara moved away, knew when Xander and Anya had gotten
married. They took Buffy in, until she disappeared.
He knew that she was searching for him. He hid from her. Though
there were times she'd been so close he could see her, she'd never
been able to catch him.
He knew when she died. He'd felt it, a sudden prickling of his
skin, and worse, a tearing inside him that forced him to his
knees. In a heartbeat it was over, and he'd longed for death
himself.
Death could not come until he said goodbye.
He walks now, into the cemetery, past the familiar landmarks, his
old crypt, Alpert's large memorial, to a spot he'd visited before,
when her mother died.
He stops in front of, not her marker, but her eldest daughter's.
He kneels, to touch the face of it and he reads what is written
there.
Buffy Anne Summers
1981-2010
Why did you leave?
He weeps and when his tears are spent, he lies down, his face
touching the cold ground. He murmurs into it, words of love,
words of regret, words of farewell.
End.