The End
by
Disclaimer: Not mine. Joss Whedon, WB, Mutant Enemy, etc, ie, everyone who's not me, owns them.
Summary: During the beginning of 'Into the Woods', the events that lead to the demise of the Buffy/Riley romance. 1st person Riley POV.
Rating: PG-13
I don't know why I do it. I don't know why I was so itchy in the bed with Buffy, whom I love with all my heart. Why I couldn't lie still, and await for morning to waken us, the sun shining down on her face, which I knew, from experience, would look nothing like that face she showed to the Scoobies later in the day. I could have been happy with her.
But I wasn't. And I don't know why. What I do know, is that I'm sneaking from her house long before the sunrise, moving carefully so as not to awaken the Slayer. As I walk from the house, I know where my feet are taking me, and something inside me shivers with delight at the thought of the heady, spinning sensations I get when I allow myself to be sucked.
Something much deeper inside me, something in the very core of my being, is yelling at me to stop, telling me that I have something beautiful with Buffy Summers, and that I don't need to have my blood sucked by vampires on a regular basis to get my kicks. But it's buried too deep, and the rest of me can easily ignore it.
I allow my feet to take me to the seedy, warehouse district of Sunnydale, in a semi-trance, not really thinking about anything, as though a car on auto-pilot. I'm only halfway aware of my surrounding, but my senses kick in as I near the door where the vampires hide during the daylight hours. Most will be out hunting now, but a few is more than enough.
I turn sharply as I hear something in the background, maybe a pebble under someone's shoe, but I see nothing. Besides, there is next to no-one who would know what I'm doing here, even if I ran into one of Buffy's friends. And if they came inside, well, let's just say they'd be hard-pressed to get to me through the vamp mobs.
Satisfied that there was no one there, and that there is no need to be paranoid even if there was, I slowly open the door, anticipating the rush of ugly-faced demons that block my path as soon as it is open.
I hold up my hands in surrender, and they growl, low-down in their throats. Suddenly the vampire who usually sucks me cuts through the mobs, and reaches me. "You got money?" She asks me. I nod silently, and she turns sharply to the others.
"Bugger off!" They retreat reluctantly, and I follow her silently up the stairs.
She leads me to a small room, and pushes the door closed behind us. I roll up my sleeve, and push my other hand into my pocket, seeking the bills. The female vampire offers nothing until I pull the green paper from my jeans, and hand it over.
I sit down in the corner of the room, propping myself up. I know that I will need it to support me once she is done.
She stuffs the money into her pocket, and I tuck my sleeve together, so that it stays up around my elbow. The demon girl morphs, but I feel none of the innate fear that usually accompanies such a change. Her eyes turn yellow, her forehead broadens, and her long fangs grow, clearly eager for my blood.
I turn my head away, not able to watch as I allow myself to be bitten like an animal. But I cannot resist, could not leave, even if she would let me. Because I'm like a small boy with one of his father's magazines, I'm not sure if I'm ready for what's coming, but I'm insatiably curious. Except that now, I'm no longer just curious. I'm addicted.
The fangs sink deep into my arm, and I bite back the urge to scream. Clenching my teeth, I drop any semblance of posture, giving up any hint that I have control over my muscles, and allowing myself to go completely slack. The familiar heady rush comes quickly, and my world is rapidly spinning, blurring and undulating as it does so.
I sit there only a few minutes, and the pain has dulled within my arm. I am regaining my senses, and I look up for only a split second, ignoring the door which I hear open downstairs. I assume it's the vampires, returning from their hunt.
"Harder," I breathe. She complies, and the pain reawakens, sending me shooting back to the land where nothing is what it seems. Colors blur, and the walls of reality and what's being made up by my oxygen-deprived brain begin to fuzz. It sends a rush of disgusting pleasure through my body, and that something deep within me fights once more. I ignore it.
The door smashes open, and I see the last thing that my blood-loss-weakened self expected. My girlfriend, soon to be ex, if I read her expression correctly, is standing in the doorway, accompanied by Spike, who, no doubt, brought her here to discover me in order to make her single once more, and earn brownie points towards his own seduction of my girl.
At least I know that will never happen.
I can do nothing. I'm caught, fair and square, and Buffy's gaping. The vampiress retreats from my arm, and I want to do something, but I can't, my body no longer under my control as some fail-safe mechanism kicks in, and forces it to use my energy towards manufacturing more blood, and won't allow me to waste it on movement.
I have a bad feeling that this is the end of whatever I shared with Buffy Summers.