Title: Drowning
Series: Cry
Author: Sarah K.
Email: TwirlGirl2008@bolt.com
Disclaimer: Joss's
Timeline: After Becoming pt 2, kind of an alternate Anne
Spoilers: Up to Becoming 2
Summary: Buffy's in really bad shape after Becoming part 2, living in LA,
when suddenly Angel shows up.
Distribution: Want it? Take it. Just email me.
Feedback: PLEEEEEEEEASSEEEE!
Rating: If you can watch the show, you can read this so I guess PG, PG13
I felt like I was drowning. The tears just kept coming. I couldn't stop them. It didn't matter how hard I tried, how tough my resolve was, how many declarations I mumbled to myself. I couldn't stop crying.
And maybe it was wrong to. Maybe I would be wrong to stop. Last night, after sobbing and shaking and trembling my way to fretful sleep, I awoke with fresh tears on my pillow. I cried even in my sleep. I couldn't help it. But now I felt sick. It had been so long since I had had a decent sleep, anything more than a nibble to eat. Bile rose up in my throat and I only got to lean over the edge of the bed before I was throwing up.
Then I was frustrated at myself. *Why the hell am I acting like this? Get a grip!* I decided right there to stop crying, mostly because I didn't want to throw up again. *I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.* I chanted it stupidly, as if it would help.
But it did. Amazed at myself, no tears fell down my cheeks for almost a half of an hour. I watched the seconds tick by on my clock and thought it was over. The intense mourning. The grief. The loss. Maybe even the pain.
Pain. I wanted it to be over. But it never would be. Unless he came through that door and wrapped his arms around me and told me it was okay and that he forgave me, the pain would never be over. Never. And I deserved that pain. Because he was going through even worse pain than I was right now. He was being tortured, probably mercilessly. Why? Why was my beautiful Angel, the most caring, passionate, amazing creature to ever grace this world, being hurt? Me. Because of me. Wasn't it always me? I caused him so much pain. I sent him to Hell.
One mention of his pain and I was sobbing again.
I was drowning. Dying because of my grief and guilt and loss. Drowning in my own tears.
I felt like I was drowning. The tears just kept coming. I couldn't stop them. It didn't matter how hard I tried, how tough my resolve was, how many declarations I mumbled to myself. I couldn't stop crying.
And maybe it was wrong to. Maybe I would be wrong to stop. Last night, after sobbing and shaking and trembling my way to fretful sleep, I awoke with fresh tears on my pillow. I cried even in my sleep. I couldn't help it. But now I felt sick. It had been so long since I had had a decent sleep, anything more than a nibble to eat. Bile rose up in my throat and I only got to lean over the edge of the bed before I was throwing up.
Then I was frustrated at myself. *Why the hell am I acting like this? Get a grip!* I decided right there to stop crying, mostly because I didn't want to throw up again. *I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.* I chanted it stupidly, as if it would help.
But it did. Amazed at myself, no tears fell down my cheeks for almost a half of an hour. I watched the seconds tick by on my clock and thought it was over. The intense mourning. The grief. The loss. Maybe even the pain.
Pain. I wanted it to be over. But it never would be. Unless he came through that door and wrapped his arms around me and told me it was okay and that he forgave me, the pain would never be over. Never. And I deserved that pain. Because he was going through even worse pain than I was right now. He was being tortured, probably mercilessly. Why? Why was my beautiful Angel, the most caring, passionate, amazing creature to ever grace this world, being hurt? Me. Because of me. Wasn't it always me? I caused him so much pain. I sent him to Hell.
One mention of his pain and I was sobbing again.
I was drowning. Dying because of my grief and guilt and loss. Drowning in my own tears.